Chapter 5

Ye Chengxing hadn’t slept.

A little while after taking Li Jia’s temperature, things had still seemed fine. But an hour and a half later, signs of fever reemerged on the Omega. She bit her lip, thin beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her brows furrowed, and the corners of her eyes flushed a deep red, as though she were trapped in a nightmare.

Though she was clearly asleep, she curled her body up slightly instead—a self-protective posture, tense and uneasy.

Ye Chengxing fetched a towel, wrung the water out of it, and carefully wiped the sweat from Li Jia’s forehead. She noticed how hard the Omega was biting her lip, nearly drawing blood, and gently pried the tender flesh free with her fingertip.

Even though Ye Chengxing’s touch was feather-light throughout, it still jolted Li Jia. Her sleeping body shuddered violently.

In that moment, Ye Chengxing suddenly felt she knew exactly what nightmare Li Jia was having.

Even if she showed little reaction on the surface, some wounds had already carved themselves into her heart—inescapable nightmares haunting her in the dead of night.

Before transmigrating into the book, Ye Chengxing had specialized in surgery, not psychology, but she had picked up some knowledge in that area.

She had sensed it even when selecting this task: healing Li Jia would be a grueling, endless process, with no guarantee of success.

If revival was her only goal, the first task would have been quicker, with better odds.

But given another chance, Ye Chengxing would choose the healing mission all over again.

She was already dead. Without this twist of fate from the task, she would have faded into oblivion entirely. Every moment she had now was borrowed time she had no right to.

Ye Chengxing’s family life before transmigrating had been much like the original host’s—cherished and spoiled by everyone around her. But her personality had developed in the complete opposite direction.

Too much malice surrounded Li Jia. Even if this task ended in failure, Ye Chengxing hoped her presence could offer the Omega at least a sliver of warmth.

…

Li Jia felt as though she’d endured an excruciatingly long nightmare. But amid the endless torment, a pair of impossibly gentle hands had appeared. They wiped away the sweat beading on her skin and soothed her patiently at her ear. Each movement carried a faint, pleasant oolong tea scent.

When she opened her eyes, daylight streamed through the windows. The ward was empty and cold, just as it had been so many times before when she awoke.

But… how long had it been since she’d slept so deeply?

A trace of bewilderment lingered in Li Jia’s eyes. She could hardly believe she’d drifted off—and slept well, at that. From before her rebirth to after, even with medication, it had been ages since she’d managed a rest like this.

Reality dawned on her a moment later. She let out a silent scoff deep in her heart.

Li Jia closed her eyes briefly, suppressing the flicker of emotion within them.

Her good sleep was probably just exhaustion from the rebirth catching up to her.

She couldn’t suppress an inward sneer.

The only Alpha nearby with oolong tea-scented pheromones was Ye Chengxing.

Li Jia repeated the name silently in her mind. A surge of nausea hit her from the emotional churn, and she bolted upright. She rushed into the en-suite bathroom, stripped off her hospital gown, and cranked on the shower, desperate to rinse away the oolong tea scent that still seemed to cling to her skin.

Icy water poured down her body, splashing into tiny blooms on the tile floor and sending chills racing through her—like a blast of minty toothpaste flooding straight into her lungs and gut.

Yet the sensation left Li Jia feeling utterly refreshed. The Omega tilted her head back, letting the spray choke into her mouth until she erupted into violent coughs.

Her body was already pushed to its breaking point, trembling from the coughing fit. But her mind reveled in the relief, craving even more.

Through the rising steam, Li Jia’s gaze lifted to the disposable razor blade sitting on the counter.

She stared at it, flashes of images crowding her vision. A hazy crimson tinted her eyes. Her fingertip slowly tore open the packaging, lifting the blade. But just as it hovered over her skin, the sensor on the ward door pinged at an approaching figure and slid open.

A gentle Alpha voice filled the room, laced with sudden tension.

Ye Chengxing clutched the breakfast bag and water cup tightly, her eyes sweeping the empty space. Panic gripped her for real. “Li Jia?”

She called the Omega’s name.

The bloody haze in Li Jia’s eyes ebbed away. She shut them for a moment, dried off, and slipped into a fresh hospital gown. She resealed the blade’s edge and clenched it tight in her fist.

After her unanswered call, Ye Chengxing pressed her lips together and moved to check the hospital cameras. But the moment she pulled open the door, Li Jia stepped out of the bathroom.

Relief washed over Ye Chengxing at the sight of the Omega, her skin still damp with mist.

For a split second, she’d feared Li Jia had jumped from the building—or that someone had come and taken her away again.

She knew no one else could enter the room, but seeing it empty had filled her with dread anyway, dark possibilities crowding her thoughts.

She set the breakfast bag and cup on the nearby table. “Ah, so you were in the shower.”

Li Jia’s condition really wasn’t ideal for bathing right now. But taking in the Omega’s silent demeanor, Ye Chengxing understood the compulsion behind it. She recalled a detail from the early original plot: after every ordeal, Li Jia would scrub herself obsessively, almost pathologically. So it had already begun…

Ye Chengxing parted her lips but swallowed the words on the tip of her tongue.

The blame never lay with Li Jia. She was innocent—utterly blameless—yet she bore all the pain, the accusations, the abuse.

A sting pricked at Ye Chengxing’s nose. She drew in a slow, deep breath and let it out.

Right now, Li Jia was fragile as a glass figurine. Ye Chengxing didn’t dare speak rashly. From a modern psychology standpoint, moments like this called for time, the right approach, and utmost gentleness—to avoid retraumatizing her. Even words spoken with the best intentions could wound in an instant.

So Ye Chengxing paused before speaking. “I got you some breakfast and warm water… But first, we should dry your hair so you don’t catch a chill. I’ll grab the hairdryer and do it for you, okay?”

Li Jia listened to Ye Chengxing’s words. This woman really had changed from her previous life. Her acting used to be so amateurish—even with that mild smile plastered on her face, the malice in her eyes shone right through. But this time around, it was like she’d gone back to school for a crash course in deception. She deserved an Oscar.

A smile curved Li Jia’s lips. Fresh from the shower, she looked like a flower glistening with morning dew. Her voice came out soft. “Okay.”

Ye Chengxing retrieved the hairdryer.

Li Jia’s hair fell in gentle waves to her waist, like rippling water or the finest satin.

Fearing she’d tug and hurt her, Ye Chengxing kept her motions whisper-soft.

This world’s hairdryers were a far cry from the ones back home—the biggest difference was efficiency. Hair this long dried in just minutes here; in her old world, it’d take half an hour at best. Ye Chengxing couldn’t help marveling at it.

Still, it saved time.

She set the hairdryer aside and unpacked the breakfast bag. Steam still rose invitingly from the food. The water was perfectly tempered—warm from mixing hot and cold—not scalding, just right to soothe an empty stomach.

“Have some water and a bite to eat.” As she spoke, Ye Chengxing crossed to the window and drew back the curtains.

Sunlight flooded the room in an instant, brightening everything before Li Jia’s eyes.

She glanced at Ye Chengxing’s silhouette against the light. The Alpha toyed with the curtain tie, frowning slightly as if stumped on how to make it look prettier.

Li Jia watched for a moment before looking away.

In that brief span, after this woman’s arrival, the sterile, lifeless ward had transformed. Warm sunlight spilled across the floor in long, golden streaks. Steam curled from the breakfast on the table, infusing the space with the comforting scent of everyday life—as if it had yanked Li Jia back into the human world.

Unseen, Li Jia tightened her grip on the blade in her palm.

How alien, how it all felt.

Reborn once, and this pervert’s tactics had leveled up. Now she was deploying that so-called “charm.”