Queen O's Timid Fugitive A - Chapter 3

3

That night,

Bright white streetlights stood tall throughout the garden, illuminating the winding paths paved with cobblestones and the dense flower beds along the way. Though shadows lingered in the corners, it hardly mattered—few would venture into such dark places.

Jiang Ciqing wandered aimlessly among the trees, her steps unhurried and without direction.

Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. The dim yellow crescent moon was veiled by thin clouds as a few dark bird silhouettes flapped their wings in haste, flying past the bustling heart of the capital. The small houses on the outskirts had long since fallen into slumber.

After all, not everyone could afford electric lights. For ordinary folks who had to stretch every penny, it was far better to sleep early and rise with the first rays of the free morning sun than to linger under the dim glow of oil lamps.

The lively music drifted intermittently from the mansion. Judging by past experience, this dance party wouldn’t quiet down until midnight. Liang Anchen’s residence had already prepared guest rooms for those who wished to stay overnight. Unless they had urgent matters, most would choose to rest here.

As for Jiang Ciqing, who lived in the mountains outside the city, traveling back and forth was far more troublesome than for others. So, before coming, she had already prepared to stay the night. However…

The excruciating pain in her left hand, which had been ruthlessly pinched earlier, still hadn’t subsided. That Omega dancing inside had shown no mercy, and even now, Jiang Ciqing hadn’t fully recovered.

The hem of her pants brushed against a branch, startling it into a sway.

Pursing her lips, her dark, glistening eyes wandered aimlessly, lost in thought. Her slender figure looked somewhat desolate.

She raised a hand to touch the gland at the back of her neck—an inconspicuous flesh-colored blocker patch. The rough texture pricked her fingertips, leaving behind a trace of the rich, intoxicating scent of strong liquor.

This was the scent of Xu Fusheng’s pheromones.

A marked person would carry the scent of their marker, like a dog wearing its owner’s tag—a warning to those with ill intentions: She belongs to me.

However, this kind of possessive marking usually only existed when an Alpha marked an Omega. After all, in the public’s perception, Alphas were naturally dominant and fierce, while Omegas were delicate and in need of protection.

If people knew that an Alpha like her had been marked by an Omega…

Jiang Ciqing shook her hand, letting the scent dissipate in the wind.

Irritation surged in her chest, her mind turning into a muddled mess. She exhaled sharply, then abruptly turned and strode toward the gate.

Never mind. Even if it meant enduring Aunt Sun’s nagging, she would leave the prince’s residence tonight and hurry back home.

The faint gray shadows blended with the darkness of the corner, and crimson petals drifted to the ground.

Her hurried footsteps suddenly halted, her slender back tensing as if sensing danger in advance.

The person hiding in the blind spot of the shadows immediately acted. A sharp whistling sound cut through the air as a hand, like an iron shackle, seized Jiang Ciqing’s wrist and yanked her forcefully forward.

In that split second,

Her dark eyes turned icy. The muscles beneath her white shirt bulged like a beast’s, instinctively resisting the pull. But just then, a familiar, potent liquor scent wrapped around her senses. Jiang Ciqing frowned, and before she could react, she had already relaxed her strength. The next moment, she was dragged into the darkness by an overwhelming force.

“Mmph…” The slender figure was slammed hard against the rough wall, a pained gasp escaping her lips.

Before she could do anything, a soft body pressed against her. In the next second, both wrists were firmly pinned, as if shackled, leaving her utterly powerless.

Jiang Ciqing had hit the back of her head earlier. The blinding pain left her vision white, and it took a while before she could see clearly again.

Silver hair cascaded loosely, and those beautiful peach-blossom eyes were now frost-covered. The rare crimson irises glowed like dazzling gemstones. Jiang Ciqing instinctively averted her gaze, not daring to look too closely.

Misinterpreting her reaction, the other’s expression grew even colder. The fingers gripping her tightened, as if venting dissatisfaction.

Jiang Ciqing refused to yield. Her spine, straight as bamboo, pressed against the wall as she was trapped in the thick darkness, enduring the pain without a sound.

A child who didn’t cry would only be beaten harder. Xu Fusheng attributed all of this to rebellious defiance.

The Alpha who had once groveled at her feet had now grown a spine of pride, thinking she could break free just by discarding her collar.

Xu Fusheng made no effort to conceal the gloom in her eyes. The stunning beauty that had captivated everyone at the banquet now seemed even more obsessive and unhinged. The straight collarbones, barely held by the slipping shoulder straps, seemed ready to pierce through thin skin and stab into the other.

Her fingers tightened relentlessly, like an enraged wolf king viciously clamping down on a subordinate’s throat, demanding submission.

Jiang Ciqing didn’t even need to look down to know her wrists were already bruising. If Xu Fusheng applied any more force, they might even fracture.

Both were waiting for the other to back down—one using brute force, the other stubborn silence.

At the same time, both were restraining themselves, suppressing their psychic energy to avoid detection. After all, this was someone else’s territory, and neither wanted to cause a scene.

From the dimly lit path nearby, voices murmured. Perhaps a pair of enamored men and women had sneaked away from the crowd to flirt in seclusion.

The bone-deep pain in her wrists sent cold sweat dripping from her forehead. Dazed by the agony, Jiang Ciqing inadvertently recalled the past.

Getting close to Xu Fusheng hadn’t been easy. She had tried every means possible before finally kneeling before her as a captive. True to her reputation for despising Alphas, Xu Fusheng had sat on her high seat, cast a single disdainful glance, and waved them away. Fortunately, someone had mentioned that the Xu residence needed servants, and Jiang Ciqing’s group had been spared.

It was almost laughable. Back then, she had schemed tirelessly just to catch a glimpse of Xu Fusheng. Now, it was Xu Fusheng who sought her out, resorting to brute force to make her submit.

Jiang Ciqing suddenly let out a low laugh, laced with mockery.

The already furious Xu Fusheng exploded like a lit powder keg, her aura terrifyingly oppressive. She abruptly released Jiang Ciqing’s hands, but before the other could catch her breath, she clamped her fingers around the slender neck, her thumb pressing into the hollow of the throat. The soft flesh yielded beneath her grip, far more satisfying than the bony wrists.

Jiang Ciqing’s chin was forced up, her laughter trapped in her throat like a lodged pebble. She wanted to cough it out but was stifled, made worse by the relentless pressure cutting off her air. Her freed hands clawed at the wall behind her, using it as leverage to endure.

Outside, the couple continued whispering, bursting into laughter over something.

Gradually suffocating, Jiang Ciqing’s limbs weakened. Originally half a head taller, she now had to tilt her head up slightly to meet Xu Fusheng’s gaze, her lips trembling and pale from being pressed together.

It was clear just how much force the other was using.

Xu Fusheng’s other hand pinned Jiang Ciqing’s shoulder, preventing her from sliding further down. Now, she finally calmed, her crimson eyes like dazzling gemstones yet devoid of light, her emotions complex and inscrutable—impossible to tell whether she was pleased or enraged.

After Jiang Ciqing’s escape, she had spent countless sleepless nights imagining how to punish her—flaying her flesh, torturing her with salt and chili water, anything to make her suffer as much as she had, to leave her writhing in pain every night, unable to close her bloodshot eyes.

She regretted letting her guard down, regretted allowing Jiang Ciqing to get close, and most of all, regretted letting her slip away. But of all the things she had thought of, she had never considered the possibility of not marking her.

Whether marked or marker, once a mate was chosen, resistance to suppressants developed. Without a mate’s comfort, one could only endure the excruciatingly sensitive period alone—an agony beyond words. Many who lost their partners would rather risk half their lives to remove their glands than endure the torment. Some, fearing suppressants would fail, even chose never to mark anyone for life.

And yet, the two of them had stubbornly endured this torment for three years.

Finally, the couple in the distance left, laughing and teasing each other.

Xu Fusheng loosened her grip slightly, sparing the one on the brink of death.

Gasping desperately for air, Jiang Ciqing had never found the cold night so precious. Her lowered hands had dug into the brick wall.

Suddenly, the rich scent of liquor drew closer, warm breath brushing against her earlobe.

Someone called softly, “Eleven.”

The voice was low, hoarse, and filled with longing.

Jiang Ciqing pretended not to hear, panting heavily and refusing to respond.

The lowest of servants didn’t deserve names. Lined up and counted off by the steward’s pointing finger, Jiang Ciqing happened to be the eleventh. Thus, “Eleven” became her name.

Xu Fusheng wrapped her arms around Jiang Ciqing’s waist, calling relentlessly, “Eleven, Eleven…”

The moonlight was cold, and the music had long since stopped. The surroundings were silent.

Regaining some semblance of composure, Jiang Ciqing forced out stiffly, “I don’t understand who you’re calling.”

Stubborn to the core—the phrase flashed through Xu Fusheng’s mind.

Unwilling to give up, Xu Fusheng tried one last time, “Eleven…”

Jiang Ciqing simply turned her head away, ignoring her.

Deeming herself to have already humbled her pride, Xu Fusheng let out a mocking laugh, her lips curling in derision. Her eyes were as cold as ice, reflecting the unyielding defiance of the person before her.

“Pretending not to know me, huh…” The words were ground out between clenched teeth.

Her smirk was icy as she scrutinized Jiang Ciqing from head to toe. Her bone structure, her features—nothing had changed except for a newfound air of delicate nobility. She was exactly the same as the person in her memories.

Jiang Ciqing, knowing she was in the wrong, let her gaze drift. The corners of her eyes still glistened with involuntary tears, and the bruises on her neck were stark against her skin. Paired with her disheveled, half-unbuttoned shirt, she looked pitiful and vulnerable—nothing like an Alpha. Even the most delicate Omega would call her “sister.”

Xu Fusheng took a slight step back, letting the cold wind rush into the newly created gap.

“Pretending not to know me, huh?” she repeated.

Without waiting for Jiang Ciqing to muster another excuse, she yanked her wrist and pulled hard. A blur of light swept past Jiang Ciqing’s eyes as she was torn from the wall, only to be flipped around and slammed back against it face-first.

This position was even more humiliating than before. Pressed fully against the wall, her cheek scraped against the rough surface, her hands forced above her head. Xu Fusheng bent one knee, pressing it against the back of Jiang Ciqing’s legs, cutting off any chance of resistance.

“You—!”

Jiang Ciqing’s mind screamed warnings. The loosened tie around her neck had slipped from its original position, resting against the bruised skin like a dog’s collar.

—Rip!

One hand pinned her wrists while the other grabbed her collar and yanked upward. The thin white shirt was pulled over her head, cutting off Jiang Ciqing’s words mid-sentence. She struggled violently but was immediately subdued again.

Xu Fusheng’s eyes darkened as she took in the sight before her, more thoroughly this time.

Jiang Ciqing’s shoulders were not as frail as they appeared when clothed. Tense muscles flexed slightly, her pronounced waist dipping inward. Perhaps from the earlier friction, faint red marks streaked across her fair skin, stark against the visible contours. Her shoulder blades trembled like wings, but the most jarring sight was the pale scar running from her left shoulder to her right waist—deep, jagged, and horrifying.

The chilly, damp air licked at her exposed skin, making Jiang Ciqing shiver. She struggled again, only to be pressed down harder, a stifled grunt escaping her lips.

Xu Fusheng fell silent, her expression dazed. She didn’t immediately punish Jiang Ciqing for resisting, instead staring at the scar with complex emotions.

Xu Fusheng, who had survived in a world where life was as cheap as grass, was not one to be softhearted or indecisive. She trusted no one easily and tolerated no betrayal.

The only reason she had repeatedly lowered her pride and indulged Jiang Ciqing was because of the tangled mess of love and hatred she felt—and because of the life-threatening knife Jiang Ciqing had taken for her in the treacherous desert after being betrayed by her subordinates.

This horrifying scar was the result.

It was only after this incident that she had let her guard down and willingly marked Jiang Ciqing.

Cool fingertips traced the jagged scar, eliciting shivers.

Xu Fusheng chuckled softly, leaning closer. “Still going to deny it?”

Jiang Ciqing pressed her lips together, refusing to speak. She deliberately twisted her arms, making one last futile attempt to break free.

Outside, the rustling of clothes grew louder. A servant called out loudly, “Miss Xu! Miss Xu!”

Then, murmuring to each other, “Where did Miss Xu go? His Highness has been waiting for her.”

The two in the shadows froze. The sound of footsteps drew nearer.

Jiang Ciqing yanked herself free and shoved the motionless Xu Fusheng away, hastily pulling her clothes back on. “Go back,” she said coldly.

In her current state, she couldn’t afford to be seen by anyone.

Xu Fusheng, the instigator of this mess, understood the gravity of the situation and didn’t protest. She obediently stepped forward.

“Miss Xu, what are you doing here?!” The servant’s voice was a mix of relief and complaint as they hurried over.

Not wanting them to see what was happening behind her, Xu Fusheng blocked their path. “I was just admiring the garden and wandered down this path.”

“I see. His Highness was worried something had happened to you…”

Xu Fusheng exchanged a few perfunctory words before following the servant back to the ballroom. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at the dark corner.

Jiang Ciqing had already slipped away without a trace.

The woman smiled, rubbing her thumb over her fingertips. The warmth lingering there still carried the faint, sweet scent of bamboo, slowly dissipating in the wind.