Chapter 57

Li Jia’s leg injury wasn’t too serious. According to the doctor, a few days of quiet rest would see it mostly healed, and as long as she avoided strenuous activity, there shouldn’t be any further issues.

Since Li Jia couldn’t run or jump while recuperating in the hospital, Ye Chengxing worried she might get bored. Recalling how engrossed Li Jia had been the last time they’d watched a movie together, Ye Chengxing pulled up a TV series and hit play.

Once it started, Ye Chengxing sat beside her and peeled some fruit. When she finished, she glanced at the screen.

The drama had reached the part where the first heroine’s family secretly tracked down the second heroine. They acted all high and mighty, declaring that the first heroine was about to marry her wealthy fiancé. They told the second heroine to wake up and stop dreaming the impossible—if she knew what was good for her, she should just leave on her own.

The second heroine felt deeply insulted and slipped away that very night without a word.

Ye Chengxing: “…”

She really should have checked it first. What kind of show was this?

Ye Chengxing arranged the fruit on a plate and was about to ask if Li Jia wanted to switch when she noticed Li Jia’s expression cool ever so slightly. “Why did she leave?” Li Jia said. “Those people dared to say that—they should pay the price for speaking out of turn.”

Seeing how seriously Li Jia was taking the plot, Ye Chengxing swallowed her question. But no sooner had she done so than Li Jia paused the playback.

The Omega turned to her, the chill on her face melting into a sweet smile, her eyes and brows curving sweetly. “This one’s no good, Sister. Let’s watch something else?”

Ye Chengxing thought Li Jia’s earlier demeanor was quite rare, especially those words she’d uttered while immersed in the story. At first listen, they had a real villainous edge to them. But only at first—in this life, Li Jia probably wouldn’t end up as the villain.

Her gaze drifted to Li Jia.

Meeting her eyes, Li Jia scooted closer. The Omega wrapped an arm around hers, her coquettish plea flowing with effortless charm. “Sister, change it. Change it, please. I don’t want to watch this one.”

Ye Chengxing felt her heart turn to a soft, fluffy puddle.

Real villains were terrifyingly fierce and icy, the kind who left people too scared to speak. Which villain’s family produced someone this adorable, sweetly calling out “Sister” like candy? She was a little angel, plain and simple.

Ye Chengxing coughed lightly, willing her heartbeat to calm. “Alright. Whatever Xiao Li wants—we’ll switch.”

And so they did—one, two, three… until it dawned on Ye Chengxing.

She felt she’d cracked Li Jia’s tastes: sweet and satisfying stories, no frustrating injustices, and the two heroines had to end up together. Even if it meant dying, they’d die as one.

With that figured out, the dramas she selected next didn’t need changing nearly as often.

They spent the morning like that, watching TV series side by side. Then Ye Chengxing decided to head home and make lunch—the hospital only stocked nutrient liquid, after all.

She’d originally planned to deal with some Ye Family business that morning, but when she checked, there was nothing left to handle. Everything had been taken care of flawlessly, without a single trace. If not for the phone call she’d received the night before, it would look from the outside like the Ye Family had brought disaster down on themselves and reaped today’s bitter harvest.

That said, the fear in the caller’s voice had been all too real. Ye Chengxing suspected it tied back to that mysterious person, but she had no idea who—or what—they were. She’d run through everyone she knew, and none fit the bill for such an existence.

Perhaps they simply held a grudge against the Ye Family?

Unable to puzzle it out, she decided to let it go. She wasn’t one to chase every truth; better to handle what was within her power. Business intrigue wasn’t her forte anyway. The present came first.

Though Li Jia’s injury hadn’t reached the bone, Ye Chengxing still simmered a pot of soup. While it cooked, she prepared the rest of the meal.

By the time the soup was nearly done, everything else was ready too.

Ye Chengxing sorted the lunch into neat portions and stowed them in the portable intelligent storage device. Then she drove back to the hospital.

The facility where Li Jia was staying boasted top-tier privacy and security, ensuring no paparazzi could sneak shots or troublemakers stir problems.

The entire place was remarkably serene.

With her caregiver access card, Ye Chengxing entered Li Jia’s room, portable device in hand.

An electronic screen flickered in front of the Omega, still playing a drama. It looked like she’d binged all the ones Ye Chengxing had queued up earlier and moved on to new ones.

The roaring voices from the screen rang out crystal clear:

“Can’t you show some sense? Stop messing with my work! Anyone would burn out like this! I’m done! All you do is cling—who could stand someone like you?!”

Hearing the door, Li Jia glanced over. Her eyes dropped to the portable intelligent storage device in Ye Chengxing’s hands.

She looked from the screen to Ye Chengxing, then down at her own injured leg. Suddenly, she sounded forlorn. “Sister… am I getting in the way of your work too?”

The characters onscreen were still snarling at each other face-to-face.

Ye Chengxing quietly hit pause.

She unpacked the lunch from the device, arranging it neatly. “No,” she told Li Jia. “You’re injured, and I can make time for these few days.”

“Besides, that character botched her own problems and took it out on her partner. No lessons there.”

Li Jia let out a soft “oh.” “So if she fixes the work stuff, she’ll like her forever?”

Ye Chengxing set out the utensils and paused to think. “Not necessarily. Too many variables at play.”

Li Jia nodded thoughtfully. “I see.”

The stalking incident seemed to have left a deep mark on Li Jia. At night, she couldn’t sleep without holding hands. She’d jolt awake from nightmares in the small hours, trembling until held and soothed for a good while. So fragile, so delicate—Ye Chengxing simply couldn’t bear to leave her side.

Thus, aside from popping home to cook the three daily meals and ferry them over via the portable intelligent storage device, she left sales to Xi Yue and the others. The rest of her time, she stayed right there with Li Jia.

And over these past few days, beyond the Ye Family drama, one other thing had cropped up.

LS Consortium had reached out to Ye Chengxing’s business account.

They inquired whether she had plans to expand her stores or launch a chain. They dangled an enormous investment, along with staff support—employees or apprentices, selected at her whim. Trial periods allowed swaps if they didn’t measure up. Everything, per her vision.

Ye Chengxing was stunned when she saw the message.

Gourmet chefs commanded premium treatment in this world, and her business line had fielded offers before. But those always came loaded with strings and demands. This was the first time the terms were this lavish, with virtually no catches.

If it weren’t the official LS Consortium account, she’d have pegged it as a scam.

She’d been in Li Jia’s room when the message arrived, and seeing her curiosity, she’d shared the details.

Li Jia hummed thoughtfully. “Aren’t you short-staffed anyway, Sister? Reply and see—no harm in it.”

Ye Chengxing agreed. Besides, Li Jia’s entertainment company fell under the LS umbrella, so her impression of them wasn’t bad.

She replied on a whim, testing the waters. To her surprise, the next day they had staff and apprentices lined up for interviews. It all felt a touch surreal.

LS Consortium—the juggernaut that trampled rivals to claim the heights—was this accommodating? Something felt off, inexplicably strange.

Still, it solved her staffing woes. Store expansions and chains moved to the front burner. Renovations kicked off on Gourmet Street, and Xi Yue and the team handled the oversight on locations and hires, knowing Ye Chengxing had hospital duty.

Suddenly, with Li Jia the lone exception in her hospital bed, Ye Chengxing found little else demanding her attention.

The gourmet stores were booming. No staff headaches. Money flowed in whether she lifted a finger or not. Life turned suspiciously serene, as if an unseen hand swept every obstacle aside, leaving her a clear path ahead.

Just like with the Ye Family—they’d crumbled before she could even act.

Ye Chengxing pressed the back of her neck. The approach of her susceptible period had brought faint, prickling pains to her gland at random moments, souring her mood. But spending every day with Li Jia had dulled those sensations.

Li Jia’s injury had healed nicely with rest. Tomorrow’s checkup should clear her for discharge, barring surprises.

Ye Chengxing gazed at the little sparrow on the windowsill and sprinkled a bit of the prepared millet in front of it.

Over these days, she’d casually tended the local small animals while at the hospital. They’d come to recognize her, growing unusually tame and responsive.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Yes, life really was improving.

But why, when everything pointed toward the better, did she feel this faint, inexplicable unease stirring inside?

No evidence to pinpoint it—just a baseless sense of discord.

As if things shouldn’t feel this effortless.

Yet this strangeness was hers alone. Voicing it would only make others think she was the odd one.

The sparrow finished its millet and fluttered to her fingertip. Ye Chengxing’s lips curved faintly.

But a second later, it took flight in sudden terror.

Ye Chengxing sensed the shift and turned. Sure enough, Li Jia had slipped from the bed.

The Omega embraced her gently from behind.

These past days, Li Jia had been especially clingy. Fearing it might leave scars on her psyche, Ye Chengxing indulged her fully.

“Did I wake you?” Since the hug came from behind, Ye Chengxing reached back sideways to ruffle Li Jia’s hair.

Li Jia adored the gentle touch and the soft words that followed. The Omega contentedly narrowed her eyes. “No. I’ve been awake for a bit.”

As she spoke, her gaze drifted out the window. “Does Sister like that little bird so much? We could get a pretty cage for it. Then you could see it every day.”

Ye Chengxing couldn’t help but chuckle at that, teasing, “No wonder cats and birds scatter running or flying the moment they see you.”

“You can’t just lock up a creature like that and try to keep it,” she said, shaking her head.

Li Jia let out a soft hum in response.

A long moment passed before she heard her own disguised voice piping up in agreement. “Yeah, you can’t keep it locked up.”

The next day, after the routine checkup, the doctor declared that her leg injury had fully healed.

Ye Chengxing wasn’t in any rush to discharge Li Jia from the hospital. The film crew had told Li Jia to rest well and return only when she was ready.

Li Jia agreed that the crew could wait a bit longer. “But there’s an exam at school tomorrow.”

Ye Chengxing hadn’t expected that to be Li Jia’s reason for insisting on leaving the hospital.

Still, she had only made the suggestion; the final decision was Li Jia’s. Since Li Jia wanted to go take the exam, then they would. After all, the wound had healed without any complications.

Ye Chengxing went downstairs to handle the discharge paperwork.

The following morning, she personally drove Li Jia to school. As the Omega got out of the car, she gave Ye Chengxing a sweet wave. “Sis, I’m off to my exam!”

Ye Chengxing smiled and waved back, mouthing the words “You got this!”

After dropping Li Jia off at school, Ye Chengxing turned around and headed to the Gourmet Store.

She no longer needed to use the disguise potion either going to the store or leaving it, which still felt a little strange to her.

But the thing she found hardest to get used to was… Li Jia not being by her side.

The storefront expansion had been completed. Ye Chengxing stopped by to answer some questions from the new apprentices and spent a while chatting with Xi Yue and the others.

In a brief lull, Ye Chengxing pressed a hand to her chest and frowned.

There was no reason for her to feel upset or irritated—nothing bad had happened. So why did she have this inexplicable sense of unease nagging at her?

Li Jia truly hadn’t been to school in quite some time.

Whether she attended classes or not, these exams posed no challenge for her, nor did they hold any real meaning.

But she wanted to hear Ye Chengxing praise her. She wanted the other woman to ruffle her hair and call her “Xiao Li” in that fond way.

Something meaningless to her had gained significance simply because of Ye Chengxing.

She finished the morning exam paper quickly and handed it in early.

Once submitted, students were free to leave the classroom, though they couldn’t return once they did.

Li Jia stepped out, planning to find a quiet spot to call Ye Chengxing.

…They had only seen each other that very morning—she had even driven her here herself. Yet this brief parting already had her missing her.

Li Jia unlocked her phone. At the thought of Ye Chengxing, a shimmering smile melted into her eyes, like ice thawing under spring sunlight.

Her fingertip hovered lightly over the screen, about to tap the call button, when her movement froze.

At the same time, the laughter faded from her eyes. She lifted her gaze to the approaching figure.

“Fuck, finally caught you. You put my uncle in prison, and you still have the nerve to smile here?”

About ten male Alphas closed in on her, surrounding her completely.

The exams were still underway across campus, leaving the area deathly silent.

Their leader had a broad forehead and deep-set eyes. He spat out his cigarette as he spoke and ground it viciously under his heel.

He turned his gaze on Li Jia and let out a sinister chuckle. “Gotta thank you for picking such a secluded spot. Otherwise, my boys and I wouldn’t have an easy time jumping you. Blame that damn bitch Alpha of yours if you want—why’d she have to go poking around where she wasn’t wanted…”

He kept spewing curses, but suddenly he met the Omega’s eyes.

Her stare was laced with bone-chilling cold, utterly devoid of the fear he’d expected. Instead, it sent a shiver of horror down his spine.

Realizing he’d felt a flicker of cowardice, Lin Xuan bellowed even louder, his voice dripping with scorn and mockery. “What’re you staring at me like that for? Did I say something wrong? That Alpha of yours, Ye Chengxing, is trash too. If I catch her, I’ll…”

He was still crowing smugly when several agonized screams erupted around him the next instant.

“The hell are you idiots doing? I didn’t say to jump her yet—this young master wants to torment her personally!” Lin Xuan snapped in irritation. But then it hit him: the screams didn’t seem to be coming from Li Jia’s direction.

He swallowed hard and realized the Omega who’d been standing right in front of him moments ago had vanished.

His body’s instincts screamed danger—run. He didn’t care about his brothers staggering and collapsing around him; he bolted.

But he’d barely taken a step before a kick sent him slamming into the wall.

Lin Xuan spat out a mouthful of blood. Meeting Li Jia’s gaze, terror seized him, his whole body trembling as he realized what a colossal mistake he’d made.

Snot, tears, and blood smeared across his face in a mess. He begged incoherently for mercy, the pain so intense he nearly dropped to his knees to kowtow and plead for his life. But she grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up.

The Omega slammed his head against the wall, her voice icy. “You dare utter her name?”