Chapter 23 Part 3

Caught off guard, Chi Yumo was pushed away by Shi Youwan’s suddenly chilling gaze.

“Xiao Mo, what has made you so brazen? What gave you the idea that I, the president of Shifeng Group, could be manipulated at will?”

Her fair palm pressed against Chi Yumo’s chest, and Shi Youwan used every last ounce of strength left in her body to shove Chi Yumo away. She fastened her belt and stood up.

As she walked, she continued, “The marriage alliance is already set. Stay or leave—it’s your choice.”

Shi Youwan stopped in front of the bedside table and bent down to retrieve a strong suppressant from the bottom drawer.

Then, right in front of Chi Yumo, she slowly injected it into the back of her neck.

This wasn’t her heat period’s feverish passion, and while Chi Yumo’s pheromones tempted her, they also had a soothing effect. One shot was enough.

From birth, she had been burdened with great expectations, tasked with inheriting Shifeng Group.

This mission superseded everything else in her life.

She was a merchant steeped in the stench of money, but one who hadn’t lost her humanity. She adhered to the principle of minimizing sacrifices.

Thus, she restrained herself, cultivated her virtue, composed herself, and kept her emotions hidden.

Until Chi Yumo had drawn her into a sea of desire. She indulged in indescribable pleasure, unable to extricate herself.

From the start, her plan had been to wait until Chi Yumo built her own career, gained more experience in society, and recognized the cruelty of reality—then let her decide for herself whether she still wanted to stay by her side.

To follow in obscurity, to trail while hiding.

But now, she had stepped prematurely on Xiao Mo’s moral bottom line.

Forcing Xiao Mo to choose.

Some things were inevitable. Rather than endless entanglement and torment, it was better to cut ties decisively.

Besides, deep down, she didn’t want Xiao Mo to abandon her bright future for her sake.

The faint lotus scent gradually dissipated, leaving behind a room filled with cloying coconut aroma—like headless flies buzzing chaotically—making even Chi Yumo nauseous.

She had cried, she had begged.

Her shoulders hunched like a kite’s wings, her knees buckled like a lamb’s. She had trampled her last shred of dignity, only to be discarded like a worn-out shoe.

Of course. Without her, Shi Youwan still had inhibitors and the next lover.

One willing to be Shi Youwan’s mistress.

Shi Youwan had never been hers alone; she had mistaken charity and pity for “true feelings.”

Shi Youwan was no different from anyone else.

To Shi Youwan, she was just playing the game of sugar daddy and caged bird—summoned at will, dismissed at whim.

What face did a discarded caged bird have to cling on?

For Shi Youwan’s sake, Chi Yumo didn’t question whether she preferred Alphas or Omegas, nor ask if she was someone’s stand-in. Compared to Shi Youwan marrying someone else, whether she was a stand-in or a plaything didn’t matter anymore.

She could accept being a stand-in, a lover—but not a morally bankrupt mistress, tumbling in bed with someone else’s wife.

Because then, there would always be one more person between them—Shi Youwan’s legal wife.

Even their entanglements would no longer be called lovemaking.

But adultery.

At this thought, Chi Yumo let out a bitter laugh. Her last sliver of fantasy shattered.

As the two women stood in tense standoff inside, Chen Han knocked on the door to remind them, “Eldest Miss, Second Miss is back. She’s already in the courtyard.”

In the past, Chi Yumo would have tactfully hidden in the room during such situations, but today she didn’t want to hide.

Before Shi Youwan could speak, Chi Yumo brushed off her clothes. Without a single word of farewell, she strode to the door, opened it, and headed downstairs.

Chen Han, who had reached the foyer a few steps ahead, stood there wringing her hands.

Not long after Chi Yumo arrived, she had received a call from Qiao Ke asking if Miss Mo was at the Old Mansion—and also informing her of President Shi’s engagement to Miss Yin.

For a moment, she was utterly distraught.

Shi Youran entered the house faster than Chi Yumo exited. After changing into slippers and stepping into the living room, she saw a tall, elegant girl approaching with a cold expression.

The girl didn’t stop, brushing past her. She moved so quickly that Shi Youran didn’t even get a clear look at her features—only sensing an aloof, extraordinary aura.

“Shi Youran.” Shi Youwan had also come downstairs. “You’re pregnant—don’t wander around at night so much.”

Shi Youran’s gaze, which had followed the girl, snapped back. She chuckled cheerfully, “When people are happy, their spirits soar. My sister, that old iron tree who’s been celibate for over thirty years, has finally blossomed. How could I not come congratulate you?”

Neither she nor her mother, Shi Yan, cared why Shi Youwan had suddenly decided to marry, or who the partner was—as long as it was Shi Youwan’s choice: a healthy, not unattractive, upstanding S-Level Alpha who could bear children with her.

Of course, one from Peak Group would be even better.

The front door was still open, allowing a cross-breeze of cold and warm air that perfectly dispersed Chi Yumo’s pheromones.

After changing her shoes, Chi Yumo walked out—and didn’t forget to close the door behind her.

She left her hat and mask on the cabinet without taking them.

Hearing the door close, the clear-headed Shi Youwan sat down unhurriedly on the sofa. “Aunt Han, could you please see her off personally?”

“Yes, Eldest Miss.”

Chen Han was worried about Chi Yumo herself. Upon hearing the instruction, she grabbed the car keys and hurried out after her.

Shi Youran shook her head and sat across from Shi Youwan, clicking her tongue repeatedly. “Impressive. You put on clothes and suddenly don’t recognize people anymore? So heartless to your little lover.”

Shi Youwan glanced sideways at her.

“Don’t look at me like that. Did I say something wrong? The pheromones intertwined on both of you—anyone with a nose could smell it.” Shi Youran rubbed her legs, feigning a sigh.

“Such a pretty, young, vigorous little Alpha, and you’ve wrecked her—left her heartbroken, utterly drained of spirit.”

Her hazy first impression of the little lover had been stunning—better than Yin Man.

“Lost your interest in the little Alpha and want a change of flavor? Or did Yin Man have some dirt on you and force the marriage? Spill it.”

Shi Youran looked at Shi Youwan meaningfully. She respected, feared, and loved this sister.

But Shi Youwan, heartbroken to her core, had no energy to discuss it. Her composure was merely a facade she was forcing.

“Mom’s death anniversary is approaching.”

Shi Youwan brought up their late Omega mother out of nowhere, leaving Shi Youran puzzled.

She knew Shi Youwan loved their deceased mother most, and they had never used her to pressure Shi Youwan into marriage.

“I haven’t forgotten.”

Her sister’s vacant, profound gaze unnerved Shi Youran. She stood, circled around, and sat beside Shi Youwan.

“Sis, you…”

“Youran, do you know?” Shi Youwan leaned against her sister’s shoulder, revealing a vulnerable side.

“I’ve always envied you—envied how you can be carefree, follow your heart. Envied you and Mu Nian, made for each other, in perfect harmony.”

Shi Youran wasn’t oblivious to the “misery” of her sister as Shifeng Group’s president. But Shi Youwan had always shouldered it well before. Why now…

In the half-month since they’d last met, Shi Youwan had accumulated much negativity.

Sorrow, fragility, helplessness, powerlessness, and loneliness.

She wrapped her arms around Shi Youwan, comforting her with familial embrace. That body, frail as willow floss, seemed like a strong gust could scatter it.

“Sis, responsibility is unavoidable, but love is a choice. Pick who you like, whoever she is—I’ll support you.”

…

Leaving the Old Mansion, Chi Yumo wandered alone in the night like a lost soul, adrift and forlorn.

Just as when she arrived, she ran desperately, desperately. But no matter how fast she ran, she couldn’t catch the pristine moon embedded in the night sky.

Chen Han drove after her, honking the horn.

She ignored it.

Chen Han didn’t dare get too close, fearing she’d hit her if she slowed down. She rolled down the window and shouted loudly from behind.

“Xiao Mo! Xiao Mo, get in the car—I’ll take you back.”

“Xiao Mo, it’s too far—you can’t run all the way. Listen to Aunt Han, okay?”

“Xiao Mo, even if you won’t listen to me, think of your grandma!”

“Grandma’s watching you from heaven. If she sees you running like this, disregarding your health, won’t her heart break? How can she rest in peace?”

Chi Yumo finally stopped.

She squatted by the roadside, hugging her knees and sobbing loudly.

Her cries came like a torrential downpour, instantly drowning out all surrounding sounds. Her body trembled uncontrollably, each tear telling of her inner agony and sorrow, tearing at her heart and lungs.

She had nothing left.

The harbor of Shi Youwan, which had sheltered her from wind and rain and which she had come to see as home, had withdrawn without mercy to welcome someone new.

She was just a homeless stray dog—how dare she dream of entering a grand household?

Chen Han pulled over, got out, and held Chi Yumo in her arms. “You’re a good child with a long life ahead…”

“Aunt Han, stop—please stop…”

“Okay, I won’t say anything. Cry it out—it’ll be better.”

Even the longest road has an end.

The car entered the Old Street District and stopped downstairs at the old house. Chi Yumo’s face was deathly pale as she endured the pain wracking her body and got out.

“Thank you, Aunt Han.” Not wanting Aunt Han to see her face twisted in agony, she didn’t look back.

Chen Han got out too and called after her, “Xiao Mo!”

The figure who had run a dozen steps halted. They both knew this night might be their last meeting.

Chi Yumo paused for a few seconds, then turned and ran back to hug Chen Han. “Aunt Han, take care of yourself.”

“Mm, you too—be well.” Chen Han hugged her back, lips quivering, eyes brimming with crystalline tears.

“Don’t forget what you promised—that once your career takes off, you’ll invite me to your performance. Xiao Mo, I’ll always wait for your invitation, waiting to see you shine on the Capital Drama Theater stage.”

Tears fell like beads, stirring the heartstrings of parting, playing the finale of farewell.

Parting must come.

Emotions and possessions not hers could not be forced to stay.

Why torment herself?

“Aunt Han, those things I used at the Old Mansion aren’t mine—throw them out.”

The promise she had made so confidently last time, Chi Yumo couldn’t bring herself to reaffirm now.

The Capital Drama Theater was a distant dream.

Shi Youwan had been her wings.

With wings, she brimmed with drive and confidence—three years, five, ten, one day she’d reach for the stars.

Without wings now, ten or twenty years might not lift her from the Provincial Drama Troupe.

Or perhaps she’d leave Yinzhou City, go somewhere she couldn’t see or hear Shi Youwan, scraping by in mediocrity.

Maybe she was fated to wander the world alone, living unattached—heedless of time’s pace, encounters or farewells.

Because the one first met and the one last parted from would both be fleeting clouds.

After two days of intense emotional blows, Chi Yumo was utterly exhausted in body and soul.

Back upstairs in the room, she clutched her grandma’s photo and collapsed on the bed. With a heart like dead ashes, she stared at the scarred ceiling, her vision shifting from clear to blurry, then back again.

Between her and Xiao Yi, Shi Youwan had chosen Xiao Yi. Between her and Yin Man, Shi Youwan had chosen Yin Man.

What about next time?

If conflict arose between her and family, Shi Youwan would never choose her.

No matter who it was, Shi Youwan wouldn’t choose her.

In Shi Youwan’s lofty world, she would forever be a mere shadow in the dark, unworthy even of speaking of “love” with her.

Xiao Yi was right—it was time for her to exit the stage.

She turned on her phone, tears streaming, hands trembling as she tapped out the message word by word.

[I was honored to be President Shi’s lover for two years. But I won’t be a mistress.]

[Shi Youwan, it’s over between us. I choose to leave.]