“I’ve probably been a bit tired these past few days,” Li Jia said, withdrawing her gaze.
As she spoke, she turned to Ye Chengxing, her fingertip lightly hooking into the other’s palm.
The omega, still wearing her mask, lifted the corners of her beautiful eyes just as Ye Chengxing looked over, a faint smile playing on her lips. “But it’s all right. Thinking about how my big sister feels sorry for me makes it seem not so bad.”
Ye Chengxing coughed sharply at Li Jia’s words, surprise flickering across her face. “Why so suddenly…?”
She still couldn’t make sense of Li Jia’s earlier distance during the day, that inexplicable pulling away. And now, Li Jia had slipped right back into her usual self.
Li Jia let out a soft “Hm?”
“What’s sudden about it?”
Ye Chengxing’s right hand was still clasped with Li Jia’s. After hearing the question, she lifted her left hand, pressing the back of it to her lips to swallow the rest of her words. “It’s nothing. I just misspoke.”
…It seemed like today, only her own emotions had been on a rollercoaster.
But then again, that made sense. There wasn’t anything that could really sway Li Jia’s moods, and in the end, those events had only been her own speculations.
She hadn’t been someone who overthought things before—her emotions rarely got rattled like this. But now…
Ye Chengxing took a deep breath, then sighed it out quietly.
Working with the crew really was exhausting, especially since Li Jia had come straight to her after wrapping up and stayed late at the villa.
She should be more considerate and let Li Jia get some proper rest.
Li Jia gazed at Ye Chengxing, noticing that the alpha had zoned out again. Though their hands were linked, a complicated look lingered in the alpha’s eyes.
“What are you thinking about?” Li Jia asked.
Snapped from her thoughts, Ye Chengxing refocused on Li Jia. She hesitated, parting her lips, but after sorting through her mind, she realized none of it was something she could say aloud. She shook her head. “Nothing. Just trying to remember where I parked the car.”
Even Ye Chengxing herself found the excuse unconvincing, but statements like that usually signaled something she didn’t want to share.
Sure enough, Li Jia didn’t press. Ye Chengxing let out a relieved breath, only to feel a pang of guilt. She feigned a thoughtful expression and patched it up. “I think I remember now… You’ve had a long day too, Xiao Li. Make sure you rest well when we get home.”
Li Jia’s eyes narrowed slightly at Ye Chengxing’s words, but on the surface, the omega simply smiled and agreed in a soft, slow voice. “You too, big sister.”
With so much weighing on her mind, Ye Chengxing couldn’t quite settle. And the source of her unease was sitting right beside her.
Once they got home, things were much the same as usual. Both their rooms were on the second floor, and without knocking, they wouldn’t exchange much.
After her shower, Ye Chengxing still felt her emotions in a tangle. She logged into Star Net with the Risheng Gourmet Shop account and did her routine promotion post. Once sent, the system auto-returned to the homepage. Just as she was about to log out, something on the homepage caught her eye.
It wasn’t anything special—just a recommendation for romance movies.
Ye Chengxing didn’t usually watch romance films, but she stared at the suggestion, hesitated, then screenshotted and saved it. She opened her streaming app, ready to pick one.
The list had a good variety, including both happy endings and bad ones.
Logically, given her mood, she should pick a sweet happy ending to unwind…
In theory.
After a moment’s thought, Ye Chengxing selected a bad-ending film and hit play.
For some reason, she felt the need to get used to that bitter feeling in advance.
She had just started the movie when, before she could put on her headphones, there came two knocks at her door.
Only she and Li Jia lived in the villa, so it had to be Li Jia.
Ye Chengxing paused the screen as she rose and went to open the door.
“What’s up, Xiao Li?” Though her mood wasn’t fully sorted, whenever facing Li Jia, Ye Chengxing wore only a relaxed smile, hiding all other traces of her feelings.
Li Jia looked at her, her gaze dropping to the phone and headphones in Ye Chengxing’s hands.
A pure smile bloomed on the omega’s face. “I noticed you seemed worried about something, so I brewed a cup of calming tea and made some little pastries. They’re both great for better sleep.”
Ye Chengxing had been so focused on Li Jia that she hadn’t noticed what the other woman held.
Now, glancing down, she saw it: the tea and pastries neatly arranged on a tray.
Warmth bloomed in Ye Chengxing’s chest.
She hadn’t thought she’d shown much, but Li Jia had picked up on it anyway.
She opened her mouth to speak, but before a word escaped, Li Jia continued. “It doesn’t look convenient with things in your hands. Let me bring it in for you.”
With that, the omega smiled at her. “Big sister, can I come into your room?”
Ye Chengxing felt a touch embarrassed, but refusing seemed rude. If she took it herself, she’d have to set everything down and come back—too deliberate.
Besides, Li Jia had only offered out of thoughtfulness because of the items…
Nodding, Ye Chengxing said, “Thanks, Xiao Li.”
Li Jia nodded and stepped inside with permission. She casually shut the door behind her, then turned to Ye Chengxing. “You always tell me not to thank you, but it looks like you’re saying it plenty too.”
Ye Chengxing blinked for a second, then chuckled and shook her head. “True enough. It slips out before I know it. Guess I don’t have much ground to stand on telling you not to, since I can’t stick to it myself.”
Li Jia set the tray on a nearby table. “How about this, then? We make a rule: if either of us accidentally says ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’ or anything like that, we have to hug the other for ten seconds.”
Imagining the scene, Ye Chengxing’s expression turned awkward. “Well… not that I’m against the idea, but it feels a bit…”
She groped for the right word, only for Li Jia to supply it. “A bit embarrassing and awkward, right?”
The omega pressed on. “That’s the point. We’re too used to saying thanks, so after a few slip-ups and hugs, we’ll stop wanting to say it.”
It did make a certain sense.
Ye Chengxing nodded. “All right. I’ll work on not saying thank you either.”
The omega blinked sweetly at her. “Me too. We’ll keep each other in check.”
Her gaze flicked to the phone and headphones again, curiosity lighting her face. “Were you planning to watch a movie, big sister?”
Realizing what she’d done, she added quickly, “Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to peek at your screen. I just caught a glimpse from the corner of my eye and couldn’t help asking…”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Ye Chengxing laughed.
As the laugh faded, she remembered—Li Jia had just said “sorry.”
Not even a minute since proposing the rule, and she’d broken it already. Ye Chengxing’s gaze sharpened, a bold suspicion forming.
…Was it on purpose?
Her heartbeat quickened uncontrollably at the thought.
Ye Chengxing drew a quiet breath, then realized something else.
If Li Jia had done it deliberately, what was she after? Just the ten-second hug?
Recalling Li Jia’s reactions during the day and her own emotional ups and downs, Ye Chengxing dismissed the idea.
Probably not…
She looked up at Li Jia, who wore an expression of helpless chagrin. “Haah, I can’t believe I broke the rule first. Talk about shooting myself in the foot.”
Ye Chengxing smiled along with the joke, though inwardly she knew it.
A strange sense of loss settled in.
She’d hoped, for a moment, that Li Jia had done it on purpose—made the rule, broken it knowingly, all for a hug.
Li Jia studied her, hesitated for two seconds, then stepped closer. Closer still, murmuring softly as she approached. “Hugs like this do feel pretty awkward.”
Seeing Li Jia’s slow movements, Ye Chengxing figured it would take ages at this rate. She stepped forward instead.
Clearing her throat lightly, she averted her eyes from Li Jia’s, trying not to look too eager. With a prompting expression, she said, “Come on, then. It’s only ten seconds.”
Li Jia’s eyes dimmed at Ye Chengxing’s get-it-over-with attitude, the earlier triumph souring.
Without another word, the omega lunged forward, wrapping Ye Chengxing tightly in her arms.
Ye Chengxing had been debating whether to initiate or if that would seem improper—her thoughts weren’t entirely innocent—when Li Jia pulled her close.
It wasn’t a gentle embrace. Ye Chengxing felt the girl’s cool strands of hair brush her cheek, leaving a ticklish, feather-light tingle.
In that hold, she caught the scent of the omega’s pheromones.
Perhaps it was her imagination, but the white peach aroma seemed sweeter than ever, laced with a faint bitterness.
Just like the complex mood of its owner.
Ye Chengxing wondered if the hug had gone on too long—surely past ten seconds by now.
As the thought crossed her mind, Li Jia’s voice sounded by her ear. “Big sister, I forgot to count. Did you?”
Ye Chengxing admitted, “I didn’t either.” Though she suspected it had exceeded the limit.
After a pause, instead of saying so, she murmured, “I’ll start now, then.”
She hugged Li Jia back and began the countdown. “Ten, nine…”
“Eight…”
As Ye Chengxing counted down, she couldn’t help blushing furiously. She’d lost control of her emotions moments ago, and by the time she’d realized it, she’d deliberately drawn out the hug. She hoped Li Jia wouldn’t notice—let this be her selfish indulgence, greedily claiming these ten seconds for herself.
“Seven, six…”
The Alpha’s countdown continued until Li Jia suddenly murmured softly, “Let me count instead. After all, I’m the one who broke the rules.”
Ye Chengxing fell silent for a beat, then heard Li Jia take over.
Compared to her own pace, Li Jia seemed to be counting just a touch slower.
Ye Chengxing’s first thought was relief that Li Jia couldn’t see her face right now. Otherwise, she’d spot the deep flush burning across it.
Was she really slowing down? Or was that just Li Jia’s natural speaking rhythm?
Ye Chengxing knew it was probably wishful thinking, but she couldn’t stop hunting for these tiny hints that Li Jia might harbor feelings for her too.
As the final second fell and Li Jia’s arms loosened, Ye Chengxing darted to the side and switched off the light. Fortunately, the switch was nearby.
She knew the move was abrupt, but it was far easier to explain than letting Li Jia catch her blushing.
With that in mind, the Alpha exhaled quietly in relief and voiced the excuse she’d already prepared. “Xiao Li, you guessed right earlier. I was just about to start watching when you knocked. Now I want to get back to it, and the dark room sets a nice mood.”
With the bedroom light off, the room plunged into dimness—not pitch black, but shadowy enough that shapes were only faintly visible.
Ye Chengxing figured this meant Li Jia definitely couldn’t read her expression.
And indeed, Li Jia couldn’t make out Ye Chengxing’s face at all.
The reaction had been unnaturally abrupt, and…
Was she trying to get rid of her? Had Ye Chengxing picked up on something during the hug and wanted her out fast?
Li Jia let out a soft laugh. Her feet shifted, but not toward the door—instead, she walked straight toward Ye Chengxing. “What movie are you planning to watch, sis? I want to see it too. Mind if I join?”
Ye Chengxing watched Li Jia approach and instinctively wanted to step back, but she realized that would look even more suspicious and held her ground.
…Her cheeks were undoubtedly still burning. The room was dark, yes, but if Li Jia got any closer, she might notice.
Who blushed this hard from a simple hug? She absolutely couldn’t let that happen.
Ye Chengxing unlocked her phone—the screen had dimmed automatically during the embrace—and turned it toward Li Jia. “This one. Seen it before, Xiao Li?”
Look at the screen.
Don’t look at me.
Please don’t look at me.
Li Jia’s gaze shifted to the screen as Ye Chengxing angled it her way, and the Alpha breathed a sigh of relief.
The romance flick looked pretty well-known, and the reviews raved about it. If Li Jia had seen it already, that would give her the perfect out…
But before Ye Chengxing could pin down her plan, Li Jia shook her head. “No, I haven’t. What kind is it?”
She hadn’t seen it?
Ye Chengxing paused, then realized it made perfect sense. Given how controlled Li Jia’s life had been before, she might not have had many chances to watch movies. Lately, she’d been buried in studies, and now she was tied up with filming every day.
Maybe her surprise showed too clearly, because the next moment, Li Jia’s voice turned wistful. “I haven’t really watched many movies, especially not like this—or with anyone else. Am I prying too much…?”
Ye Chengxing caught the cautious note in the Omega’s words, and her chest tightened with sympathy. Linking it to Li Jia’s past of constant control only deepened the guilt and heartache.
“How could that be prying? I haven’t seen it either. Let’s watch it together.” She tugged Li Jia onto the bed and positioned the screen so they could both see, then activated Holographic Projection Mode.
Realizing she still hadn’t answered the genre question, she added, “It’s a romance movie.”
Li Jia let herself be pulled down, looking both thrilled and a little nervous. In the projection’s soft glow, Ye Chengxing saw her eyes curve into happy crescents as she nodded solemnly. “A romance movie, got it.”
Ye Chengxing hummed in agreement. “The reviews say it’s good, but since I haven’t watched it, I can’t say for sure.”
As she spoke, she stood to fetch the Calming Tea and Little Pastries Li Jia had prepared. Snacks made a movie feel complete.
There was only one serving of each, though—Li Jia hadn’t planned on them watching together in the bedroom.
Ye Chengxing set them down and glanced at Li Jia. “I’ll grab a bit more. Won’t be long.”
She’d barely turned toward the door when Li Jia’s fingers gently caught her wrist. “The movie’s already starting. We could pause it, but let’s not. Can we just keep going like this?”
Hope threaded through the Omega’s voice.
“One serving’s plenty. These were meant for you anyway, sis.”
Ye Chengxing stopped short, her heart turning utterly soft at that plea.
She sank back beside Li Jia, her tone as gentle as could be. “All right. We’ll do it your way—no going anywhere.”
“Sis is the best.” Li Jia blinked up at her, then continued happily, “Getting to watch a movie with you feels amazing. I’m so thrilled.”
Ye Chengxing murmured a soft agreement. “Watching with you makes me happy too.”
She reached out to ruffle Li Jia’s hair, then tucked a fluffy pillow behind the Omega. “Lean on this—it’ll be comfier.”
Li Jia savored the gentle touch atop her head and nuzzled into Ye Chengxing’s palm. “Yeah, it really is comfy.”
That little gesture from the Omega sent fresh heat rushing back to Ye Chengxing’s cheeks.
…So adorable.
Ye Chengxing cleared her throat, relieved she’d ended up in a novel world rather than a manga. Otherwise, she’d be a blushing mess with steam pouring from her head.
The bedroom was dark, though the holographic glow softened the shadows—but Ye Chengxing didn’t notice that Li Jia hadn’t actually leaned against the pillow when she’d said that.
Taking it as praise for the pillow, Ye Chengxing nodded. “Right? Super comfortable.”
Somehow, they’d drifted so close that they were all but pressed together.
By then, the opening credits had wrapped up, and the main story began.
Ye Chengxing had seen from the reviews that it was a BE, but the early scenes brimmed with warmth and sweetness.
She didn’t watch movies often and rarely romances, but she could lose herself in any genre.
The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the projection’s luminous white light bathing the two viewers.
The plot was simple enough. It opened on a high school campus with two female leads: one an Alpha, the other an Omega.
The Alpha was a delinquent with dismal grades, spending her days brawling or sleeping— a problem child everyone had given up on. After her mother left, it was as if she’d taken the girl’s heart with her, leaving only the stench of her drunken mother’s binges.
The Omega was her polar opposite: a transfer student and academic star from a prestigious family, adored by all.
At first, the Alpha took an instant dislike to her, while the Omega kept a polite distance. Then chance exposed their rawest vulnerabilities to each other, igniting their bond.
From delicate cinematography to heartfelt storytelling, the film beautifully evoked the awkward thrill of young love and the solace of mutual redemption.
Ye Chengxing was enjoying it so far. She stole a sidelong glance at Li Jia, who was utterly engrossed, eyes locked on the screen.
The school setting kept things tame early on—no real intimacy between the leads. The closest was on graduation night: a fleeting, dragonfly-on-water kiss by the seaside in the night breeze.
The film’s unhurried pace dwelled on everyday moments, from classroom antics to farewell ceremonies. Before long, the protagonists had stepped into adulthood, working in different cities. Busyness pulled them apart, quarrels multiplied.
On a frigid winter day, the Omega ended it, her voice raw with pain. “I don’t know why… but I just don’t love you anymore.”
The fiery romance of their youth flickered out.
In the finale, the Alpha arranged for flowers to reach the Omega on her wedding day, while she herself boarded a train bound far away. The screen darkened with the receding rails.
And that was the end.
Ye Chengxing stared at the black screen. “…”
The conclusion felt hasty, yet oddly realistic.
Still, it hardly qualified as good—the second half was so rushed compared to the first, it was like night and day.
Total bait-and-switch.
After a moment, Li Jia spoke softly. “I don’t like this ending.”
Ye Chengxing nodded vigorously. “Yeah, the back half of the plot was ridiculously abrupt.”
Li Jia asked, “Didn’t the Alpha like the Omega?”
Ye Chengxing thought back. “She did—but maybe not enough. Actually, she loved her deeply.”
“Then why break up? And send flowers to her wedding… Didn’t it hurt? How could she bear it?”
Ye Chengxing turned to meet Li Jia’s eyes. The Omega looked genuinely baffled, questions tumbling out.
Ye Chengxing hummed thoughtfully before replying. “If it were me, I’d probably do the same. Even with deep love, sometimes letting go is the kindest choice.”
She gave a rueful smile and shake of her head. “I might even wish them happiness.”
Li Jia blinked slowly. “I get it now.”
…
No, she couldn’t understand it at all.
Why let go?
If it had been her, she would have used every means at her disposal, every trick she could think of.
Anything, so long as she could keep the other person by her side.
