Chapter 16

Ye Chengxing… had actually hired a lawyer to help her terminate her contract with Starflash Entertainment?

Li Jia couldn’t help but recall the other woman’s hurried appearance and the obvious look of deep thought on her face. She had imagined every possible thing Ye Chengxing might do, but she had never once considered that all that frantic rushing around was for her sake.

The Omega stood by the roadside, staring fixedly at the bandage wrapped around her palm. Her heart was in utter turmoil.

Just then, her phone chimed again. She pulled it out and saw that Ye Chengxing had transferred another substantial sum of money to her.

Only then did Li Jia belatedly remember the excuse she had used—that she was going out to browse some books and pick out test papers.

Her heart tightened. She glanced at the various shops along the street and deliberately chose a bookstore as far as possible from the lawyer’s office. She quickened her pace and stepped inside, randomly selecting a few books before finally sending her location to Ye Chengxing, as if she had only just noticed the message.

Ye Chengxing arrived quickly.

Seeing the Omega standing at the bookstore entrance with books clutched in her arms, she thought to herself that she really needed to be more attentive from now on.

Once Li Jia got into the car, Ye Chengxing spoke up. “Tell me directly if there’s anything you need. I’m afraid I might not always think of it myself.”

Li Jia was in the middle of transferring the money back to her when she heard this. Her movements paused, and she replied, “No need, Sister… I still have some savings from before.”

She couldn’t explain the source of the money in too much detail and could only brush it off like this. But when Ye Chengxing saw it, she promptly sent the money back—and even added quite a bit more. “Li Jia, no need to feel shy about it. After all, you’ve called me Sister. This amount is nothing.”

Li Jia stared at the number on her screen, her inner panic growing even worse.

She had always thought it didn’t matter whether Ye Chengxing’s kindness toward her was genuine or fake, though deep down she had leaned toward the latter.

Yet in this moment, she couldn’t help but truly wonder—

Was this real? She didn’t know.

But if it was real… what was she supposed to do?

She had grown so accustomed to malice that the discovery of genuine kindness left her utterly helpless.

She even felt an urge to ask Ye Chengxing outright.

Why hadn’t she taken and humiliated her like all the others, but instead carried her to the hospital? Why arrange a school and a tutor for her? Why send her so much money, and why quietly hire a lawyer to help her break her contract… and why be so good to her?

Did she truly understand the situation and still want to help her terminate things with Starflash Entertainment, even though it would bring so much trouble?

Li Jia gazed at the string of zeros on her screen—an astonishing number—and lowered her lashes. Finally, she asked directly, “Sister, why are you so good to me? That earlier reason was just an excuse, wasn’t it?”

Ye Chengxing wasn’t surprised at all that Li Jia had seen through it. She had never been very good at lying in the first place, so it was only natural.

But how was she supposed to explain?

Leaving aside whether she could tell Li Jia about the System—even if she wanted to, the System wouldn’t allow it.

She pondered for a long while before letting out a soft sigh. “I don’t know how to explain it…” Then she continued, “But Li Jia, I came for you.”

She couldn’t reveal the System’s existence, but this got the general idea across well enough.

Li Jia’s lashes trembled sharply at these words.

She recalled how she had once wanted to trade for that precious concern, even if it was fake. But now that she realized this kindness and care were truly real, her heart suddenly felt so chaotic that she wanted to push it away.

She had come for her?

Did Ye Chengxing even know what she was saying?

The Omega gripped the books in her hands tightly, her fingertips turning pale from the pressure.

“Ye Chengxing, do you think that if you’re good to me, I’ll thank you?” Her voice was hoarse as she spoke, no longer using the word “Sister.”

With those words out, the rest seemed to come more easily.

She had gripped the books too hard, and Li Jia could feel the faint scrape of paper against her bandage. She could almost recall the expression on Ye Chengxing’s face as she had bandaged her wounds.

As those words hung in the air, the car fell silent. Li Jia spoke again, almost sneering. “To be honest, I won’t thank you. I won’t trust you. I’ll find you disgusting no matter what you do. So put away that savior complex of yours. Is it worth it? Is it necessary? It’s like seeing a badly injured bird on the road—the bird itself might not even care anymore. Who gives a damn?”

Why be good to her? Why even try to help her terminate her contract with Starflash Entertainment? Did she really want to pull her out of the swamp of her past? But what was the point? Don’t save her. Don’t pull her out. If she were truly the person she had been in her previous life at this point, maybe she could have been pulled free. But it was too late now. She was like this already. She didn’t want to be pulled up by anyone.

Ye Chengxing shouldn’t be good to her anymore. She should criticize and despise her like everyone else. Li Jia could accept fake affection from her, but if it was real, then forget it. She didn’t need anyone to truly care about her.

So what if she pulled her out? Li Jia wouldn’t be grateful anyway.

Looking at the now-silent Ye Chengxing, Li Jia suddenly felt a strange sense of discomfort. She had said such hurtful things, yet she didn’t want to see her hate her.

But whatever. Ignoring her was the best outcome.

Perhaps encountering someone so different from her past had made her strange too.

These past few days spent with Ye Chengxing, bathed in the gaze of that Alpha—gentle, dotted with specks of starlight—had nearly deluded her into thinking she actually deserved to be treated this well. She had almost forgotten: she wasn’t that kind of person. The real her was moody, irritable, hurtful, unlikable.

Even Ye Chengxing wouldn’t want to be good to her after hearing this, would she? There might never be anyone else as good to her as Ye Chengxing had been. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. She didn’t need it.

She even wanted to help her terminate the contract. Did she know how Ye Chengxing had learned about it? Or maybe she hadn’t seen the contract at all and just wanted to help. But did she know what kind of person Lin Que was, and who was backing him? The young miss had always had things go smoothly for her, pampered by others. Did she know how vicious people could be? Did she think pulling her out would solve everything? This rotten mess should rot with her alone. Why should Ye Chengxing get involved?

She didn’t owe her anything. On the contrary, she owed her a great deal these past few days.

She really… hated good people the most.

The car came to a stop. Ye Chengxing still hadn’t spoken. Li Jia looked out the window.

The sunlight had faded, and dusk had fallen. But it was time, and the streetlights flickered on. With the light from them, it wasn’t truly dark.

Just then, she heard Ye Chengxing finally speak.

“Li Jia.” She called her name, her voice carrying none of the anger, disappointment, or other pained, uncomprehending emotions Li Jia had imagined.

The car interior was a bit dim, but light filtered in from outside, preventing total darkness.

In the darkness, there was always light.

“I’m actually pretty glad to hear you say you don’t trust me.” Ye Chengxing’s voice was calm—even her usual self—with a soft, breathy chuckle trailing at the end.

That laugh made Li Jia’s heart twinge, throwing it into even greater chaos.

It was this attitude again.

She turned her gaze back to Ye Chengxing.

Why be good to her? She had said such hurtful things—how could she still look at her so gently?

“You’re right. Worth or not, who cares,” Ye Chengxing met Li Jia’s gaze. Perhaps it was the light reflecting from the car window, or something else, but her eyes seemed to shine with a brilliant new radiance. “Maybe that bird really doesn’t care anymore. But Li Jia, I do.”

In the not-quite-bright light, Ye Chengxing saw Li Jia’s eyes. She saw the knuckles of her fingers, clenched white around the books, and her lashes trembling like a butterfly poised to take flight.

So she repeated softly, “Li Jia… I care a lot.”

At those words, the Omega’s lashes quivered even more violently. Hearing no response from Li Jia, Ye Chengxing continued anyway. “I’ve probably never said it, but to me, you’re not some wounded bird that can’t flap its wings anymore and needs saving.”

Her voice wasn’t loud, and her tone was gentle, but beneath her words lay a vibrant power—like spring winds thawing frozen earth, sweeping over hillsides, coaxing tender green buds from withered branches.

“If I had to say,” she went on, “you’re more like a butterfly.”

“The kind that emerges from its cocoon, reborn.”