Sparrows frolicking on the branches were startled, flapping away toward the horizon in a flurry of chirps.
Shu Qingyou remained motionless for a long while, the scene appearing frozen in time.
Lin Xu sneezed again. Perhaps the wind had drowned out her voice, for Shu Qingyou didn’t seem to hear it.
Lin Xu had slept quite peacefully the night before. In her hazy dreams, she seemed to have been holding Shu Qingyou. The woman was soft and fragrant, like a freshly baked pastry—utterly delectable. If she could have such erotic dreams every night, she wouldn’t mind the lingering sense of dissatisfaction they left behind.
Her stomach, lacking any sense of decorum, chose that moment to rumble. Lin Xu’s face twisted as she let out a soft “ow,” hunger finally hitting her hard.
The irony of her situation caught up to her quickly. Wondering if Shu Qingyou had prepared breakfast, she threw on a jacket and dashed into the living room.
Shu Rong was sitting obediently on the rug, slowly scooping out egg custard with a spoon. Her mommy had told her that eating while watching TV could “choke her belly,” so she was focused on finishing her food.
The dining table, however, was empty and spotless—no trace of breakfast for Lin Xu.
“Rongrong, did I sleep too late? Did your mom not leave any food for me?”
It wasn’t even that late; the wall clock showed just after seven-fifteen. Shu Rong was using her dedicated little bowl—partly for hygiene, and partly because she was possessive of her own things. When Lin Xu tapped the table twice, Shu Rong had no choice but to interact with the “annoying big sister.”
“Can you even finish all that?” Lin Xu asked.
Lin Xu’s eyes were fixed on the layer of fragrant oil floating atop the egg custard. The pale yellow custard was warm and springy, perfectly matching the color of Shu Rong’s corduroy hoodie. The girl looked exactly like an obedient little milk rabbit.
Shu Rong lifted her chin. Sensing a glint in Lin Xu’s eyes that she couldn’t quite understand, a sense of crisis began to bloom in the little girl’s heart. If there had been too much food, Mommy wouldn’t have put it in her small bowl anyway. To prevent any “accidents,” Shu Rong wrapped her arms protectively around her bowl and shook her head vigorously.
Lin Xu lowered her brow and lectured the child with mock solemnity. “So young and already so protective of your food? No one will want you when you grow up.”
At least Shu Qingyou was generous, Lin Xu comforted herself, not realizing how deeply those words would cut. Tears immediately began to well up in the girl’s eyes.
The phrase “no one will want you” was a heavy blow to Shu Rong. A tear plopped into the bowl, mixing with the custard. The color didn’t change, but Shu Rong’s appetite vanished instantly.
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”
Lin Xu panicked, her pupils dilating. She hurriedly pulled a tissue from the box and began messily wiping the tears from Shu Rong’s face.
“I was just teasing! Big Sis shouldn’t have been eyeing your breakfast. I’m sorry, okay? Even if no one else wants you, your mommy always will.”
Unexpectedly, this made Shu Rong cry even harder.
As Lin Xu floundered in a panic, the door creaked open. Shu Qingyou had returned. Lin Xu whipped her head around, guilt written all over her face.
Shu Qingyou brought in the chill of the morning wind, the scent of tobacco lingering on her along with her unique, sweet fragrance. As she drew near, Lin Xu inhaled deeply. It would be better to crash into her like tender tofu, Lin Xu thought. Her gaze briefly skimmed over the woman’s chest before she shrank back guiltily, kneeling on a soft cushion on the floor.
Shu Qingyou glanced at the crumpled tissue on the table and her daughter’s reddened face. The little girl was clutching her bowl as if terrified it would be snatched away. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who the culprit was—Lin Xu had already bowed her head in shame.
People really could be driven to madness. Piecing together small incidents like this, Shu Qingyou finally understood the weight of that truth.
Lin Xu used to attack her with arrogance and disdain—what people nowadays call “gaslighting.” Though Lin Xu had only done it occasionally to vent or manipulate her, it had plunged Shu Qingyou into prolonged self-doubt, eroding her personality until she was no longer independent.
In fact, this was a classic Alpha tactic: a deep “Marking” via pheromones, followed by verbal blows to shatter an Omega’s mental defenses. Total possession. Lin Xu was unusual only in that when she adopted this domineering attitude, she became infected by her own toxicity, leading to endless “cold wars” between them. Ultimately, Lin Xu would resolve these conflicts with sex. Over time, it had pushed Shu Qingyou to the brink of collapse.
Slowly and methodically, Shu Qingyou helped her daughter finish her meal and coaxed her until she was calm. Finally at peace, Shu Rong ran off to play with her toys, completely absorbed.
A few minutes later, Shu Qingyou patted the sofa. She tucked her hair behind her ear and propped her chin on her hand.
Taking this as a signal that she could stop kneeling, Lin Xu had the nerve to try and sit right beside her. However, right under her nose, Shu Qingyou shifted to the farthest spot on the sofa.
Lin Xu pursed her lips. Her eyes drifted to the red cord wrapped around Shu Qingyou’s wrist, which looked like congealed white jade.
Lin Xu’s heart fluttered, but Shu Qingyou simply curled her lips into a mocking smile. She untied the red rope and tossed it onto the tea table. The festive red thread lay there, limp and bent.
This wasn’t the one Lin Xu had given her. Red ropes faded—just like people of flesh and blood.
Shu Qingyou hadn’t slept all night. Away from Lin Xu’s presence, her thoughts had churned with scenes from their past. When they first met, Lin Xu had been so considerate. Even though it was a contractual “sugar” relationship, Lin Xu had acted like a perfect girlfriend, taking her to scenic spots across the country.
Lin Xu had been the ideal Alpha. They would intertwine fingers, rubbing soft fingertips together. Their kisses had been delicate back then, almost devoid of lust. One was never enough; their eyes would meet, and Lin Xu, eyes shimmering, would lean in for more.
“I like being with you,” Lin Xu had once whispered. “If you don’t want to go out, we can nest at home, watch movies, or play the games I’ve prepared.”
Back then, Lin Xu’s voice was soft, her posture humble. She would bury herself in the crook of Shu Qingyou’s neck, her breath ghosting over Shu Qingyou’s scent gland. That irresistible passion had always made Shu Qingyou tremble.
Because she seemed so different from other Alphas, Shu Qingyou had stopped agonizing over the fact that it was a paid arrangement rather than a “normal” romance. She had fallen into the emotional swamp, moving from shallow curiosity to a passionate, heart-baring devotion.
Even when playing games—knowing Shu Qingyou suffered from 3D motion sickness—Lin Xu would still show off her skills on “Hell Difficulty.”
In love, Shu Qingyou had also chosen Hell Mode.
It had taken her years to slowly peel away the painful scars. She had relied on medication and had even suffered from physical somatization that temporarily made it impossible for her to continue her professional work.
Coming back to the present, Shu Qingyou smiled faintly, without a trace of disgust.
“Lin Xu, how are you feeling?”
“I’m great—well-rested, warmly dressed… just starving.” Lin Xu patted her stomach. Around Shu Qingyou, she forgot to be guarded; she just wanted to bare her soul. Her memories clearly hadn’t returned—it was like a fleeting moment of clarity, but it was enough for now.
“Then shall we go out to eat later?”
“Of course!” Lin Xu nodded vigorously, struggling not to scoot closer.
Shu Qingyou chuckled. “So obedient?”
Lin Xu bobbed her head like a pecking chick, practically wagging an imaginary tail. “Definitely. If Sister Shu tells me to go east, I wouldn’t dare go west.”
To Shu Qingyou, it sounded hollow. Lin Xu had ordered her to do plenty of body-wrecking things in the past. Now, leveraging her amnesia, she was acting like a different person. Shu Qingyou dismissed the promise with a smile.
“You can probably guess our relationship wasn’t ordinary,” Shu Qingyou said.
Realizing this was leading somewhere serious, Lin Xu held her breath.
“It was a relationship that didn’t need to be stated plainly,” Shu Qingyou continued. “The only thing I can say for certain is that afterward, our relationship hit rock bottom. It reached a point where… whenever you saw me, you wanted to commit violence against me.”
Lin Xu opened her mouth to retort. No matter how awful she might have been, she didn’t feel like the type to use her fists. But then she realized: with no memories, she had to take Shu Qingyou’s word as gospel.
She stewed in frustration but tried to defend herself. “That was the old me. Now I’ve been reborn.”
“What’s changed? Your looks? Or the arrogance in your bones?” Shu Qingyou paused. “Lin Xu, are you just making excuses to avoid facing what you did?”
Lin Xu felt a stab in her heart. She twisted her hands, unsure what Shu Qingyou wanted from her. “It’s not avoidance. I just… I’ve changed. When I look at the photos of myself on your phone, I don’t even recognize that person.”
Shu Qingyou’s brow furrowed. She shifted, resting her palms flat on her thighs. “That is an illusion. Perhaps it’s a self-protection mechanism from deep within your mind. The reason you aren’t going home is likely due to a fierce family dispute. Regarding that, I’ve asked my mentor to look into it. There should be an answer soon.”
Lin Xu blinked, wanting to deny it but having no evidence to the contrary. She was confused—she felt like she was missing a key point.
“And then? Once you figure out my family situation, you…” She trailed off, afraid to finish the sentence.
Shu Qingyou gazed deeply at her, searching for any sign of impending rage. It was quiet, save for the faint clink of Shu Rong’s toys. As winter approached and the temperature dropped, Shu Qingyou always remembered the cold indifference with which Lin Xu had once kicked her out.
Lin Xu had truly been a “scumbag Alpha.” Shu Qingyou was simply glad she could now face her with a smile.
“I won’t wait until everything is settled to send you back,” Shu Qingyou said calmly. “I have no obligation to take responsibility for you, Lin Xu.”
Lin Xu’s palms sweated in panic. Her nose stung, and her eyes welled up. Anticipating the reaction, Shu Qingyou leisurely pushed a tissue toward her.
Lin Xu felt as though her heart were a pool of water overflowing: She won’t even reach out to hand me the tissue herself.
“Thanks,” Lin Xu whispered. She buried her face in the tissue, her eyes rimmed with red.
These past few days had revealed every side of Lin Xu, but Shu Qingyou felt nothing—even as Lin Xu practically begged for a crumb of affection.
“You don’t have to grovel,” Shu Qingyou said rationally. “I’m not going to do anything to you.”
“But earlier… you said you were going to kick me out.”
Shu Qingyou neither denied nor affirmed it. Instead, she rephrased: “Perhaps you should just think of this as a temporary stay in a hotel.”
“A hotel…”
The coldness of the word drew a sharp line between them. At the thought of being a mere guest in Shu Qingyou’s life, Lin Xu finally broke into sobs.
