Chapter 29

Ye Chengxing’s claim of urgency wasn’t entirely an excuse to dodge Li Jia. She hadn’t told her about the whole affair earlier because the investigation had dragged on too slowly. Now, though, they finally had some leads, and it truly warranted a face-to-face.

The sooner they wrapped it up, the sooner Li Jia could break free from Lin Que and the company’s grip.

After getting ready, Ye Chengxing skipped calling a driver and drove herself.

Even so, for all her show of haste, time wasn’t actually that tight. It wasn’t a complete fabrication, but deep down, she was still avoiding the girl a little.

Only after pulling away from the villa—more precisely, once Li Jia was out of sight—did Ye Chengxing let out a quiet breath of relief.

She truly had no idea how to face her right now.

All this time, she’d treated Li Jia like her own little sister. Then came that dream out of nowhere, stirring up feelings too tangled to put into words.

She didn’t want to dwell on why she’d dreamed such a thing. The moment her assistant’s message came through about the meeting, she’d gone straight to Jiang Lubai instead. Lin Que had racked up too many misdeeds over the years. Grab one loose thread, and pulling it would unravel a whole tangle of filth.

The shadowy figures behind him weren’t entirely invisible either; they’d all left faint traces amid the mess.

Ye Chengxing had been running herself ragged for days on this, slipping back to the villa only for meals—and always picking times when Li Jia was deep in her tutoring sessions. She deliberately staggered their schedules.

She’d cook up a quick spread, pack the extras to sell at the Gourmet Store, then dash off again without so much as a proper chat.

It was as if only in this frenzy of busyness could she shove those lingering touches—and that dream—out of her mind.

Ye Chengxing wasn’t sure if Li Jia had picked up on her evasion, but she couldn’t keep dodging forever.

Most crucially, the Lin Que business was nearly sorted. All that remained was the final piece: she’d hired tech experts to plant a hidden program. The moment he tried to retaliate by leaking those photos and videos, it’d intercept and shred them.

She wanted to share the news with Li Jia.

The villains were about to get their due punishment.

It was good news—long overdue good news.

But…

Ye Chengxing leaned against her car.

She could’ve headed home earlier today, but that nagging awkwardness had her lingering on purpose until nightfall.

Under the heavy veil of darkness, she lifted her gaze. The villa lay just ahead, its windows aglow with warm light that spilled into the distance and caught in her eyes.

She hesitated.

The mere thought of facing Li Jia made her want to bolt.

Especially after these past few days of avoidance. Confronting her now felt even harder to handle calmly.

Logically, it was just a dream—one that most people forgot within a day or two, often before their feet even hit the floor in the morning. But not for her. Bizarrely, the longer time passed, the sharper the memory grew.

This absolutely could not get back to Li Jia. It made her feel low, but… she couldn’t bear the thought of being hated.

Ye Chengxing patted her cheeks, rehearsing in her head what she’d say upon walking through the door.

Right—first, a casual “I’m back.” Then ask about her studies these past few days, show some care. Follow up with the contract termination news.

Perfect. Flawless.

She mapped out the script in her mind, drew a deep breath, and reached for the car door. That’s when a soft “Sis” rang out from behind her.

A lovely female voice.

These days, the word “Sis” alone yanked Ye Chengxing’s thoughts straight to Li Jia. Somewhere along the line, it had become her special way of addressing her.

Her fingertips twitched at the sound.

She froze for all of two seconds, realizing it wasn’t Li Jia’s voice, before turning around. “Were you calling me?”

The speaker was an Omega girl. She must have hurried over; her cheeks were faintly flushed, her breaths coming uneven. The instant her eyes met Ye Chengxing’s, she stumbled back a few steps. “I… Miss… You haven’t reached out in so long.”

Her gaze flicked nervously over Ye Chengxing’s face as she twisted the hem of her clothes between her fingers. “So I… I came on my own. I’m sorry, Sis…”

Ye Chengxing’s brain short-circuited for a moment. She’d only skimmed the original host’s memories so far; a lot still required digging on the fly. After a beat, it clicked.

Another mess left by the original owner.

These past days, she’d been so swamped—head spinning from it all—that she’d clean forgotten some of those lingering loose ends.

Her transmigration timing had been spot-on, but even if the original hadn’t sunk to outright atrocities yet, the damage was done. The host’s playbook was textbook: swoop in when the target was most desperate, bask in their gratitude, then twist that debt into control and cruelty for her own twisted thrills.

And the Omega standing before her now—Bai Tang—was one such victim.

…

Ye Chengxing paused, schooling her delayed reaction into something natural. “Oh, it’s you. What’s going on?”

At her words, the Omega seemed even more on edge. She blinked, and tears spilled down her cheeks. “N-nothing… It’s just, Sis hasn’t contacted me in ages. I messaged you, but you’d blocked me. I got scared…”

Hearing that jogged Ye Chengxing’s memory of the batch of shady contacts she’d mass-blocked early on. She hadn’t bothered sorting through them, just hit delete on the lot—the friends, the creeps, everything. Probably snagged the wrong ones in the frenzy.

Crying always threw Ye Chengxing off balance. On instinct, she fished a tissue from her pocket and murmured some comforts. Big mistake: Bai Tang only sobbed harder. Sniffling her thanks as she took the tissue, the Omega’s tears kept flowing unchecked.

No helping it. Ye Chengxing inwardly cursed the original host as a total scumbag once more, then pulled out her phone. In a gentle tone, she said, “Must’ve been a glitch on my end when I cleared things out. Want to re-add each other?”

Bai Tang lifted her tear-streaked face. She wore a flowing long skirt, her black hair like drifting mist, her eyes brimming with sorrow—she looked like a living portrait. Ignoring the offer, she clutched Ye Chengxing’s sleeve. “Sis.”

Something about being called “Sis” by her felt profoundly off, even though it was Bai Tang saying it. Another face swam into Ye Chengxing’s mind instead.

“Alright, let’s add, then. After that, I’ll drive you home. It’s late; must’ve been tough getting here. Where do you live?” Ye Chengxing tried to ease her sleeve free without drawing notice, but Bai Tang’s grip only tightened.

The Omega clung to her sleeve with one hand while unlocking her phone screen with the other. “After we add… promise you won’t block me again? I’m so scared…”

Ye Chengxing’s head throbbed.

From this brief exchange alone, she could tell Bai Tang’s mental state was fragile. To her, “Ye Chengxing” was a lifeline.

With a mental sigh, Ye Chengxing stopped tugging at her sleeve. “Okay, I promise. Won’t block you.”

The original host had made this mess, true—but she was “Ye Chengxing” now in everyone’s eyes. And Bai Tang had suffered enough. Helping one person was a good deed; helping more was better. Lending a hand where she could had always been her creed.

With that resolve, Ye Chengxing pulled out her phone.

She’d barely finished re-adding Bai Tang when another “Sis” sounded from her side.

She whipped her head toward the voice—and there stood Li Jia.

It was a blind spot from her position. Ye Chengxing had no clue when Li Jia had slipped out of the villa or how long she’d been lurking there.

The Omega’s features blurred into the shadows, the dim light making it impossible to read her expression.

Ye Chengxing heard only Li Jia’s faint voice drift over again. “Sis… who’s this beside you?”

A faint crunch followed—the sound of a dry fallen leaf crumbling underfoot.

Li Jia stepped into view from the side, her starry eyes fixed on Ye Chengxing, a smile playing on her lips pure and guileless. “Or is she like me—someone else who needs your help, Sis?”

They weren’t far apart, but it felt like an invisible chasm had yawned between them, carving the space into stark halves.

Li Jia’s face held a smile, yet her eyes grew steadily icier.

What a disgusting sight. The Alpha and Omega stood so intimately close; she even let the girl cling to her sleeve, speaking to her with such tenderness. And all the while, these past days, Ye Chengxing had barely exchanged ten words with her. A surge of jealousy and possessiveness crashed through Li Jia in an instant, scorching every nerve.

But she had no right to feel that way.

No moment had ever hammered the truth home harder: Ye Chengxing didn’t belong to her.

Her kindness, her smiles, her warmth—they weren’t hers alone.

That was just who Ye Chengxing was: innately good and generous. Swap in anyone else, and she’d extend the same grace.

The thought goaded Li Jia until the corners of her eyes flushed with a sickly, feverish red.

Ye Chengxing blinked, caught flat-footed. Her carefully rehearsed words shattered under the surprise, useless now.

She gazed at the still-smiling Li Jia and felt an inexplicable chill—like staring at a beautiful, silent volcano, poised to erupt in brilliant, devastating flames.

Ye Chengxing parted her lips. “Li Jia…”

But Li Jia cut her off before she could finish, her voice low and edged with frost.

“Sis. Come here.”