Redeeming That Beautiful, Strong, and Tragic Omega [Transmigration] - Chapter 15

After much persuasion, He Lan reluctantly agreed to let Xu Ruozhou try again.

 

As they approached the practice room, the melodious strains of a violin drifted through the open window.

 

Xu Ruozhou was playing Vivald’s violin concerto, titled—

 

Winter

 

Through the window, Wen Yan observed the Omega’s focused silhouette as he practiced.

 

A cascade of raven-black hair cascaded down his back, his sharp jaw pressed against the violin. Though his shoulders were slightly stiff, his right hand drew each note with precision.

 

The music was exquisite and resonant, every note perfectly placed. Yet…

 

“He’s not suited for the violin,” the violinist standing beside Wen Yan suddenly declared, condemning Xu Ruozhou’s musical path to a life sentence.

 

Wen Yan remained silent.

 

He Lan turned to her, surprised. “Aren’t you going to ask why?”

 

In terms of technical proficiency, this Omega, who had never touched a violin before, could almost rival seasoned professionals who had been playing since childhood.

 

To the untrained ear, his flaws were imperceptible.

 

“I think I know,” Wen Yan replied calmly. “Why you believe he’s not suited for the violin.”

 

“Oh?” He Lan raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Then tell me…”

 

Wen Yan turned aside, clearing a path for the violinist to the practice room.

 

“She’s just starting out, so naturally there will be imperfections. Emotional depth accumulates gradually; even prodigies require conscious training.”

 

“Professor He Lan, please don’t abandon such a talented student over a minor emotional flaw.”

 

Wen Yan unleashed her trump card: “I believe if your wife were still alive, she would want you to give Ruo Zhou another chance. I’m confident you’ll reconsider.”

 

“……”

 

The practice room door swung open.

 

The resonant music abruptly ceased. Xu Ruozhou stood holding his bow, his forearm trembling from the exertion. His amber eyes flickered with surprise as he glanced up.

 

After a moment’s gaze at the eccentric violinist, Xu Ruozhou’s gaze settled on Wen Yan’s gentle face. His grip tightened unconsciously on the bow.

 

“Wen Yan, what are you doing here?”

 

“How do you plan to make me change my mind?”

 

Xu Ruozhou and He Lan spoke simultaneously, both addressing Wen Yan. Their voices collided, causing both to pause in surprise, but Wen Yan remained composed.

 

Wen Yan stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the Omega’s waist from behind. Xu Ruozhou was startled at first, but quickly realized—

 

This sudden embrace wasn’t the Alpha flirting with her beloved Omega.

 

Wen Yan’s warm hand completely covered Xu Ruozhou’s right hand, which held the violin bow, while her other hand pressed down on the strings near the instrument’s neck.

 

Xu Ruozhou readjusted her posture, subtly sensing the coiled strength in the warm hand covering hers.

 

All surrounding sounds seemed to vanish, leaving Xu Ruozhou only able to hear the increasingly frantic pounding of her heart against her fifth rib on the left side.

 

“Focus.”

 

The calm voice snapped Xu Ruozhou back to reality. Her right hand, guided by the Alpha’s movements, slowly drew the bow across the violin resting on her shoulder.

 

The bow glided across the strings, and a resonant, sustained note suddenly rang out.

 

The surrounding environment dissolved rapidly with the music.

 

She found herself standing on the cold, hard earth of Siberia, witnessing a melancholic violinist braving the icy wind and blizzard as he drew his bow across the strings.

 

The music grew increasingly somber.

 

The bugle calls of charging soldiers were buried deep beneath the overwhelming snow, while corpses lay scattered at her feet.

 

The eyes, refusing to close even in death, spoke of longing for distant loved ones. Curses, sobs, and clenched fists intertwined, becoming the fragile swan song of a life easily shattered.

 

Xu Ruozhou closed his eyes, feeling the rims gradually moisten. Just as tears threatened to spill, a clear, sustained note shattered the entire scene.

 

The biting winter wind was replaced by the gentle caress of spring, brushing across his face as seasons shifted.

 

Newly sprouted green shoots emerged from the pristine white snow, swaying in the breeze. The cries of newborns washed away the last glint of cold steel from the fading battlefield.

 

The music ended.

 

A moment of silence hung in the air before thunderous applause enveloped the hall, pulling the dazed Xu Ruozhou back to reality.

 

His amber eyes turned toward the source of the sound.

 

There stood the usually stern violin prodigy, his face flushed with excitement, the veneer of composure stripped away, revealing the fervor of a mad artist.

 

He Lan grabbed the Alpha’s sleeve, her voice trembling with emotion. “When did you learn to play?”

 

“Why haven’t I ever heard of you before?”

 

“……”

 

Xu Ruozhou had never seen such an expression on Wen Yan’s face before.

 

Despite having just performed a piece that would have stunned even the most renowned violinists, Wen Yan’s clear black eyes remained utterly calm, as if she had merely completed an ordinary task.

 

Seeing He Lan tugging at the Alpha’s sleeve, Xu Ruozhou frowned slightly and was about to intervene when a hand settled back on the back of her hand. She glanced sideways to see the tall Alpha once again holding the hand that gripped the bow.

 

A gentle voice brushed against her ear: “Wife, when you practice, you need to visualize the music. Your fingers on the strings should…”

 

Wen Yan patiently guided her through the passage several times. Xu Ruozhou, mimicking her earlier performance, played the piece again, imitating her movements.

 

He Lan neither praised nor criticized, but her gaze toward Wen Yan burned even more intensely.

 

On the drive back to the villa, Wen Yan held Xu Ruozhou’s hand the entire way, the chauffeur following behind.

 

“Wife, there are so many people around…” Wen Yan glanced left and right, a hint of shyness in her voice.

 

Since leaving the practice room, they had encountered numerous acquaintances along the way—some returning from the golf course, others walking their dogs.

 

The teasing look made Wen Yan’s face flush. “Wife, should we just link arms instead?”

 

Waaah, holding hands is way too intimate!

 

Before transmigrating into this novel, Wen Yan had never been in a relationship. She’d never even held her sister’s hand, let alone intertwined fingers.

 

“Oh?” Xu Ruozhou tightened her grip, stroking Wen Yan’s smooth fingertips. “Why?”

 

Wen Yan’s cheeks flushed deeper. “There are too many people. I’m a little embarrassed.”

 

“Heh.” Xu Ruozhou chuckled softly, sending a shiver down Wen Yan’s spine. Those reddish-brown eyes turned to her, filled with a hint of scrutiny. “You’ve already marked me. Why are you still so easily embarrassed?”

 

“That day at the hotel, with so many people around, you bit me so deeply, so…”

 

A pair of hands, faintly scented with Du Zisong cologne, nervously covered her mouth. Wen Yan clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture. “Mmmph, Wife, I’m sorry.”

 

“Keep your voice down. These people are such gossips.”

 

Xu Ruozhou gazed at her, her eyes dark and unfathomable.

 

Wen Yan sighed. She didn’t really care what people said; she spent most of her days at home and wouldn’t hear the rumors anyway. But Xu Ruozhou was different.

 

The Original Owner and Wen Yan were both business-illiterate fools, but Xu Ruozhou was not. Standing at the very edge of the storm, any misstep could unleash a tidal wave that threatened to engulf her.

 

Wen Yan refused to let Xu Ruozhou become the subject of gossip.

 

After a long silence, Xu Ruozhou lowered her lashes and said in a low voice, “I understand.”

 

By the time they returned to the villa, night had fallen.

 

Wen Yan hadn’t realized the day had passed so quickly. She had simply spent the time in the practice room, accompanying Xu Ruozhou as she rehearsed a few violin concertos.

 

Completely drained of energy, Wen Yan was so tired she could barely climb the stairs. Before she could even push open her bedroom door, a pair of icy hands gripped her forearm from behind through her pajama sleeve.

 

Why is the female lead in my bedroom?!

 

“Ruo Zhou?” Wen Yan asked, surprised. “Didn’t you go back to your room? Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

 

Wen Yan noticed Xu Ruozhou was barefoot. Xu Ruozhou retrieved a pair of clean slippers from the room, knelt down, and warmed Wen Yan’s feet—as cold as her hands—in her palms before slipping the slippers onto her feet.

 

“Wife, you’ll catch a cold if you don’t wear slippers.”

 

Xu Ruozhou paused. “I don’t like wearing them.”

 

“Then tomorrow I’ll have Lin X order custom carpets to cover every corner of the house. That way, we can walk around barefoot whenever we want!”

 

With that, Wen Yan slipped off her slippers and hopped barefoot onto the icy floor.

 

“…Mm,” Xu Ruozhou murmured. “I’ll do as you say.”

 

Wen Yan looked at her curiously. “Wife, did you need something from me?”

 

Xu Ruozhou’s room was on the third floor, east wing, while Wen Yan’s was on the second floor, west wing—separated by a full floor and the greatest possible distance.

 

Unless Xu Ruozhou needed something, Wen Yan couldn’t imagine any reason for her to run all the way here barefoot.

 

Xu Ruozhou paused. “…Nothing.”

 

What’s with the female lead today?

 

Wen Yan’s eyelids grew heavy, making it hard to think clearly. She said softly, her voice tinged with affection, “Then I’m going to sleep now, Wife. If you need anything, just text me anytime. I’ll be here.”

 

“…Okay.”

 

“Then… good night?” Wen Yan tilted her head.

 

“…Good night.”

 

Wen Yan closed the door and collapsed onto her soft, oversized bed, falling asleep instantly.

 

The steady rhythm of her breathing drifted through the crack under the door, reaching the ears of the Omega who lingered outside, unable to leave.

 

On the way home, Xu Ruozhou had held Wen Yan’s right hand—the one holding her violin bow—their fingers tightly intertwined.

 

She could feel that the Alpha’s fingertips were completely free of the calluses typically left by training.

 

These were hands that had never known hard labor, yet they effortlessly produced a stirring melody that would have astonished even the greatest masters.

 

The mysteries surrounding Wen Yan seemed to deepen with each passing day. Xu Ruozhou couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift to the worst possible scenarios.

 

If Wen Yan wasn’t truly “Wen Yan,” then who had drugged her—the former self or the latter?

 

And if it was the latter who had drugged her, then…

 

Xu Ruozhou lowered his lashes, her icy feet still retaining the warmth of the Alpha’s palm.

 

If it was the latter who had drugged her, then… could the “love” she had expressed in the hotel have been a lie as well?

 

The next morning, Xu Ruozhou dragged Wen Yan out of bed before she was even fully awake, insisting she accompany him to class. She had assumed it would be another violin lesson, but the moment she opened her eyes, a horse’s nose was pressed against hers.

 

“Neigh!”

 

The sudden bellow nearly startled Wen Yan’s soul out of her body. She hastily patted the horse’s head in reassurance, glancing around frantically for Xu Ruozhou.

 

“Wen Yan.” The familiar voice came from behind. Wen Yan turned to see who it was, her pupils widening slightly in awe.

 

Xu Ruozhou was dressed in full equestrian attire: a fitted black double-breasted riding jacket, white breeches, and black Chelsea riding boots.

 

Wen Yan glanced down at her own outfit: a cartoon-print short-sleeved shirt, loose capr pants, and ordinary leather shoes. She looked less like she was here to practice riding and more like she was here to lead the horses for the resident princesses and princes.

 

“Wen Yan, get on,” Xu Ruozhou said sternly.

 

Only then did Wen Yan notice the other magnificent, dark-skinned horse standing beside the female lead’s mount. Its nostrils flared as it caught her gaze, and it let out a long, piercing whinny.

 

Oh, wow, that’s a fine horse.

 

Too bad it has such a bad temper.

 

Xu Ruozhou lowered his lashes, concealing the probing look in his eyes. The equestrian coach standing nearby wore an undisguised expression of concern.

 

This was the finest horse in the training arena, but also the most temperamental. To this day, no one had managed to tame it.

 

Those who had ridden this horse had either been thrown off, landing dazed and disoriented, or ended up in the hospital.

 

Remembering that President Wen had never ridden before, the coach couldn’t help but advise, “Perhaps you should switch…”

 

Before he could finish, the Alpha had already swung into the saddle.

 

The moment her foot touched the stirrup, the wild horse bolted forward like a runaway train.

 

“Wen Yan!” Xu Ruozhou knew the horse was difficult to tame, but he never imagined it would charge off without even letting her settle into the saddle.

 

The riding instructor scrambled to his feet and mounted his own horse. “Madam, don’t panic! I’ll chase after her right away and ensure President Wen’s safety…”

 

“…Huh?”

 

Why was President Wen’s wife charging off too?!

 

Xu Ruozhou yanked desperately on the reins, the white horse beneath him whinnying in pain as its forward momentum accelerated.

 

Gazing at that receding, blurring figure ahead, Xu Ruozhou dared not pause for a moment.

 

Faster.

 

Even faster!

 

She felt like she was chasing a fragile, iridescent bubble that could shatter at any moment. Even though she knew the bubble contained lies and deceit, she stubbornly refused to pierce it.

 

She wanted Wen Yan to stay by her side, just a little longer, a little longer…

 

Xu Ruozhou’s grip on the reins nearly snapped the white horse’s neck, but the horse’s strides grew slower with exhaustion, and that fading silhouette was about to vanish from her sight.

 

“Wen Yan!!!”

 

The omega’s heart-wrenching cry pierced through the wind, reaching the ears of the figure ahead, who was reining in her horse and galloping across the grassland.

 

The receding figure suddenly halted, the taut reins jerking the black horse around. It galloped back toward Xu Ruozhou.

 

The white horse came to a stop.

 

“Wife, Wife, what’s wrong?”

 

Tears welled up in Xu Ruozhou’s eyes, two clear streams tracing paths down his pale cheeks.

 

Wen Yan was bewildered, her hands fluttering helplessly. “Wife, I didn’t know you were following me. This horse runs so fast, I was too focused on taming it to notice you behind me.”

 

“Don’t cry, Wife. I’m perfectly fine, not a scratch on me.” Wen Yan patted the horse’s head, and the black horse let out a disgruntled whinny. “See how obedient he is?”

 

The riding instructor’s eyes widened at the sight.

 

Is this the same stubborn horse I feed every day? he thought. Why is it acting like a well-trained dog?!

 

And hasn’t the Wen Family’s useless Alpha always been unable to ride?

 

Wen Yan wiped the tears from Xu Ruozhou’s cheeks, preparing to say something funny to cheer him up. But before she could speak, a soft body crashed into her arms.

 

Wen Yan froze, her hands suspended in mid-air, unable to move. She stammered, “…W-Wife?”

 

“Wen Yan, I don’t care why you approached me. From now on, you’re not allowed to leave my side, not even for a moment.”