When Ye Chengxing regained consciousness, she had no idea how much time had passed. She forced her eyes open with effort.
The pain in her body hadn’t eased in the slightest, so even though her eyes were open, it took a while for her vision to focus.
“Sister, you’re awake,” came a deeply familiar voice by her ear. “Did you rest well?”
Ye Chengxing recognized it as Li Jia’s voice.
Propping herself up with a hand on her aching head, she sat up and meant to ask what time it was. But before she could speak, Li Jia gently asked, “Do you want some water?”
This time, Li Jia didn’t wait for an answer. She picked up the cup from nearby, took a sip herself, then pinched Ye Chengxing’s chin and pressed her lips to hers.
Some of the water trickled down from the corner of her mouth, wetting her skin with a cool trickle.
Ye Chengxing had still been feeling a bit groggy, but this kiss snapped her fully awake. She pulled back a little and coughed softly. “…I can drink it myself.”
But as soon as she dodged, Li Jia gripped the back of her neck and pulled her right back in, their lips meeting again.
Ye Chengxing had sensed it during their last kiss: Li Jia kissed fiercely, without holding anything back. It was a kiss brimming with unmasked affection and desire—not just to make her feel the intensity, but almost to drag her into the flames with her, to burn together, to fall together, entangled beyond separation.
The pain in her body vanished unnoticed under that onslaught.
Ye Chengxing felt that if they kept kissing like this, things were bound to escalate. She pushed Li Jia back with some force.
Even so, they weren’t far apart—close enough that their breaths mingled.
She still had unresolved matters to discuss with her. If they kept going, they’d probably end up tumbling into bed, and talking would be impossible then.
After a brief hesitation of two seconds, Ye Chengxing reached out and placed her hand lightly in front of Li Jia’s lips, creating a flimsy barrier that offered no real distance.
Looking at Li Jia, worried that her action might upset her, she softened her tone. “Um… you’ve fed me the water. Can we sort out what we didn’t finish talking about earlier?”
Ye Chengxing hadn’t covered Li Jia’s mouth directly; her hand hovered there without touching.
Yet the next second, the Omega grasped her wrist.
“I wasn’t planning to just give you water,” Li Jia said, holding her wrist and guiding her hand to her own lips. Her gaze never left Ye Chengxing’s—not even when she tilted her head slightly to brush her lips against her palm. “Sister, I want to kiss you. Can’t you tell?”
Her voice was soft as she nuzzled her cheek against Ye Chengxing’s palm, her eyes unwavering.
Ye Chengxing felt the spot where Li Jia’s lips had grazed ignite with endless heat. It spread from her palm straight to her heart, scorching her so thoroughly that for an instant, she froze, even her blinking halting.
“No, I…” Ye Chengxing parted her lips to respond along the same lines, but she quickly realized Li Jia had derailed the conversation again.
Catching on, afraid of being led astray once more or of Li Jia cutting her off, she blurted out in a rush, “Earlier, when I tried to leave, it was because I misunderstood and didn’t ask for clarification.”
Meeting Li Jia’s gaze as she delved into the specifics of her misunderstanding, she found it almost too embarrassing to voice, but she pressed on. “It was… because I thought you and Wen Qingxi liked each other. That day, I saw you two so close and intimate. The ring she wears—she never lets anyone touch it—but you just took it off, and she even smiled…”
At first, Ye Chengxing was only explaining the reason, but as she went on, she unwittingly spilled her innermost thoughts, including the emotions she’d felt at the time. By the time she wanted to stop, it was too late; she’d said everything, appropriate or not.
“Anyway, that’s how it was.”
Ye Chengxing wrapped it up abruptly. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to face Li Jia again. Even with that buffer, her cheeks still burned.
…How had she let that slip out?
The heat on her face peaked when she noticed Li Jia hadn’t spoken for a while, yet a smile curved her lips.
Beating her to the punch, Ye Chengxing let out a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. “No other reason. Pretty silly, right?”
“No, I’m not laughing at that. And there’s nothing between Wen Qingxi and me. That situation wasn’t intimate at all—it was tense, like swords at each other’s throats. Her ring had a disruptive shielding device inside, and she paraded it around you every day wearing it. So I just took it off and wrecked it.”
Ye Chengxing listened to her explanation, delivered in a tone that felt both clarifying and coaxing. After a long moment, she murmured, her face growing even redder, “Ah, so that’s what happened.”
Li Jia recalled the rush of words Ye Chengxing had just poured out, along with the obvious emotions hidden beneath them. The more she thought about it, the wider her smile grew.
So, she had been jealous?
“I won’t let Sister feel jealous again. I only love you.” Her tone rang with utter sincerity.
Now it wasn’t just Ye Chengxing’s cheeks—even her ears turned red.
For a moment, she couldn’t tell which words or phrases in particular made her heart race and her face flush, or if it was all of them.
Her heartbeat pounded faster than during their earlier kisses.
Looking at Li Jia, her pulse racing so wildly that she nearly stumbled over her words, she said, “I love you too. Only you.”
“Oh, right—was I scary before?” Li Jia’s gaze followed her fingertips along her skin as she kissed downward, her voice taking on a soft, coquettish note of reconciliation. “When I found out you were leaving, I just couldn’t accept it. But you’re here with me now, so I won’t act like that again.”
Ye Chengxing felt the warm breaths Li Jia scattered across her skin with each word.
Li Jia might not have brought it up if she hadn’t. Now that she did, the memories flooded back.
After seeing Li Jia in that state and now beholding her current gentleness, it was impossible not to feel the jarring contrast.
Ye Chengxing had once thought she understood Li Jia well, but now she realized she’d never truly known her. All she’d grasped was the side Li Jia chose to show.
Looking back, so many inconsistencies made sense in hindsight—things she’d subconsciously refused to believe.
Li Jia had been watching Ye Chengxing closely and didn’t miss that momentary daze.
“Are you afraid of me now, Sister?”
Ye Chengxing snapped out of her reverie at the sound of her voice, shaking her head quickly. “No.”
It was the truth. Ye Chengxing felt no fear, no breakdown over being unable to return home. Though she missed it, her sudden death back there had been her body giving out. Without encountering the System, she wouldn’t have had a chance to live in this world at all.
And she had feelings for Li Jia—Li Jia was her bond here.
She loved Li Jia.
She would stay in this world.
That realization brought something to mind that she’d overlooked, stalling her thoughts.
…Did Li Jia know?
She could block the connection between Ye Chengxing and the System, so she must know how her body was weakening day by day.
But since Ye Chengxing couldn’t offer her true eternity, she’d give her the forever of her remaining life.
Looking at Li Jia, Ye Chengxing tamped down those emotions and repeated earnestly, “I’m not afraid of you.”
Li Jia let out a soft sound of acknowledgment as she continued kissing along her skin, one after another, until she reached Ye Chengxing’s ear.
Feeling those kisses, Ye Chengxing found her own suppressed feelings hard to contain.
She thought that although they’d essentially confirmed their relationship, she hadn’t formally given Li Jia a bouquet, hadn’t properly confessed. She should cook a delicious meal, prepare everything else, and do it all properly once more.
In the future, they could go see the sea together, watch sunrises and sunsets, even raise a cat.
But some things needed to happen soon. She knew her body was growing weaker, though she wasn’t sure how long she had. Better to act quickly, just in case.
Ye Chengxing began planning in her mind, only to realize how much there was to do.
So she looked at Li Jia, her eyes bright with anticipation for their future life together. “Then, later… shall we go out—”
But before she could finish, she felt the breath by her ear pause.
“Go out?”
Ye Chengxing turned to meet Li Jia’s gaze, which had darkened in an instant.
Without warning, Li Jia nipped at her earlobe, sending a tingling sting through it. The smile vanished from the Omega’s face.
Then she laughed again. “Ha… Were all those words just now to placate me, Sister? So you could get out? Or did I seem too accommodating earlier, giving you the illusion that leaving is an option?”
Ye Chengxing stared in stunned silence at the sudden shift in her expression.
“No.”
She denied it and tried to explain, but in that instant, a sour ache welled up inside her.
That bitterness nearly drowned her in a heartbeat.
The explanations stuck in her throat.
She’d thought they’d talked it through, even begun planning their life ahead—but in truth, nothing had really changed.
Her lips parted and closed repeatedly before she managed, voice thick, “You just said you wouldn’t act like that anymore.”
Li Jia replied without pause, “But I didn’t say anything about leaving here.”
“Don’t you like life like this now, Sister? Isn’t it great? It’s just us here—no one else. Whatever you want, I can give it to you.”
As she spoke, she leaned in to kiss her again.
Ye Chengxing turned her head away. She wanted to say something, but felt whatever it was would fall on deaf ears.
Li Jia paused, as if noticing something, then said abruptly, “…You’re trembling.”
“Why are you trembling? Are you still a little scared after all?”
It was only then, hearing Li Jia’s rapid-fire questions, that Ye Chengxing realized she was indeed shaking.
She took a deep breath to steady herself and was about to insist it wasn’t fear when Li Jia suddenly pulled back a little.
They’d been so close that Ye Chengxing hadn’t noticed until now: a pale golden chain linked between them.
A pale golden chain extended from the handchain on her left wrist, connecting into the collar around Li Jia’s snow-white neck. The collar’s original adjustment clasp had been modified; as the distance between them gradually widened, the chain tightened, pulling straight from its dangling state.
Seeing that Ye Chengxing had noticed it, Li Jia did not stop her retreating steps. “I won’t hurt you. Don’t be afraid of me.”
The Omega wore a pure white dress that day, its hem falling just above her knees. Her long hair cascaded softly around her shoulders, making her resemble the first white camellia to bloom by the window, still glistening with morning dew.
“I’ve modified this collar,” she continued. “If the chain keeps tightening, it will constrict even more. And the control lies right in your hands, Sis.”
The pale golden chain did indeed grow tauter with each passing moment.
Li Jia watched as the expression on Ye Chengxing’s face shifted from bewilderment to sudden realization. Then the Alpha quickened her pace, nearly running to her side before pulling her forcefully into a tight embrace—
“I’m not going out anymore. We’re not going anywhere. I promise you—we’ll stay right here.” Even her voice began to tremble.
Li Jia’s retreating footsteps came to a halt.
She lifted her arms to return the embrace, a smile curving her lips. In a voice soft and lingering, she murmured words of love that pierced to the marrow, syllable by syllable: “…I love you, Sis.”
