The Crematorium While Chasing an Alpha Was Intercepted by a Flirtatious Omega Senior Sister [Rebirth] 8

Chapter 8:

Mu Sixue returned to her seat. The faint sound of her typing on the keyboard settled Yan Qinghe’s uneasy heart.

So it was just a dream. Thank goodness…

Suddenly, a sense of loss washed over her. If only Qianqian could be like her senior.

Soothing her heart, not making her tremble with fear, not like quicksand that, just as she longed to hold it tight, would slip through her fingers.

During her years at UE, there was that graceful figure who would always appear unexpectedly.

Mu Sixue.

Initially, Yan Qinghe was in an unfamiliar place, and her A-language wasn’t very fluent. She struggled to string together a few sentences, and the local accent she couldn’t shake stifled the expressive desire that had already been muted by her rebirth.

Winter in A-Country was quiet and peaceful. Pedestrians came and went, some holding hot drinks, others with books tucked under their arms, all in a hurry. Yan Qinghe pulled up the high collar of her trench coat and rubbed her hands together, blowing warm air on them.

The tall palm trees stood with bare branches. A few fallen leaves were rustled by the wind. With a crunch, they were stepped on, crushed into fine powder.

Yan Qinghe playfully stepped on the leaves, letting her feet move like fish hiding behind a reef, seeking a small moment of happiness amidst her tedious studies.

Crunch~ Yan Qinghe stepped down and heard an echo of the sound behind her. A few seconds later, a pair of slender high-heeled boots and long legs strode over.

She was being imitated. Someone was on the same path, stepping on the crushed leaves, playing a childish and silly game.

A beautiful woman walked gracefully behind her, her clear eyes as calm as the sea, her face coolly beautiful.

Her brows were like dark ink, her delicate chin held high in a cold, proud manner. Her gaze was even cooler than the cold winter day.

Yan Qinghe turned around. The salon party… her name is Mu Sixue? A faint memory. The other woman curved her lips, the frost melting into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

“You’re very cute.”

She’s cute? Yan Qinghe’s cheeks flushed. This was only the second time someone had used such a word to describe her.

When she was a child, her mother, Yan Manxing, would only scold her harshly. “Yan Qinghe, stand up! Don’t slouch. Do you think you can avoid things just by lowering your head?”

A young master from a prominent family had thrown a small coin into Ji Qianqian’s wine glass at a banquet. She had stopped him, but the young master arrogantly refused to admit his mistake.

“I’ll tease the great Miss Ji every time I see her!”

No one can bully Qianqian! Yan Qinghe immediately cornered him as he came out of the restroom and gave his head a few hard knocks.

The little boy’s family was a business partner of the Yan Corporation. When Yan Manxing found out, she was furious. She ordered her to take off her thick cotton socks in the dead of winter and stand in the bleak winter wind in the garden, her bare feet on the cold marble floor.

She hugged herself, her cheeks turning purple from the cold, her lips trembling with a “da-da” sound.

It wasn’t until her Little Aunt, Xi Zhaowan, came home that she was led by the hand, her heart aching for her, back to a warm room.

Pain! Aunt Wan pressed her warm hand to her stiff cheek. “Qinghe, this isn’t your fault.”

“Little Aunt, does my mother really hate me that much?”

As long as she could remember, Yan Manxing had never smiled at her. She never had the bedtime stories or patient teachings that other children enjoyed. It was only when she was older that she learned that because her grandfather, Yan Jue, favored alphas over omegas, her omega mother, Yan Manxing, would have no right to inherit the Yan Corporation if she didn’t give birth to an alpha heir.

To prevent the Yan Corporation from being divided among Yan Jue’s illegitimate children, Yan Manxing gave birth to Yan Qinghe at the age of eighteen. After getting a report that confirmed a 99% chance of her differentiating into an alpha and slapping it on Yan Jue’s desk, she had washed her hands of her, leaving her to be raised by Xi Zhaowan, who was like a sister and a friend to her.

Whenever she made a mistake, she was subjected to a suppressive style of education, belittled until she felt worthless. “Second-generation wastrel! Useless good-for-nothing! How did I give birth to a bastard like you!”

The day she returned to the house from the cold winter, she hung her head. But Xi Zhaowan cupped her cold face with her slender fingers, her gentle eyes focused, and told her it wasn’t true.

“Our Qinghe isn’t hateful at all. She’s very cute!”

Xi Zhaowan’s words and Mu Sixue’s “You’re very cute…” overlapped. Yan Qinghe shyly lowered her eyes and bit her lip. When she was about to respond, the other woman had already drifted away like a willow catkin.

Her figure was graceful, her winter trench coat cinched at the waist, accentuating her slender figure. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

Perhaps because a childhood memory had been touched, Yan Qinghe had a long dream that night. After that dream, she became even more careful in managing her interactions with Mu Sixue.

Not too close, not too far, maintaining a friendship that was slightly better than that of an ordinary friend.

In the dream, she returned to her childhood, walking through a dense, withered forest on a carpet of maple leaves, until she reached the lake of the goddess of the Seine. Beside it was a small wooden cabin, reminiscent of the one by Walden Pond in Thoreau’s book.

The cabin was dark. She wanted to go closer but was hesitant. Xi Zhaowan took her hand. “Qinghe, I’ll take you to the cabin to play.”

She obediently let Xi Zhaowan’s small finger trace hers, and Xi Zhaowan held her hand in return, reassuring her.

When they reached the cabin door, Xi Zhaowan’s figure vanished the moment she turned. She was startled. The winter around the cabin disappeared. As she walked further in, a winding path led to a vibrant and beautiful world of colorful flowers.

“Little Aunt?” Aunt Wan?

Her height grew with each step, becoming taller and taller.

Purple wisteria and other nameless, delicate vines grew wantonly. She walked around the vines and saw a woman in a low-cut, cream-colored sweater, her back to her, seemingly gazing at the distant scenery from a railing.

Her wavy, chestnut-brown hair cascaded down over the peach-fuzz sweater, long and beautiful.

“Qianqian?” she held her breath, completely forgetting the grievances and burdens of her past life.

She wrapped her arms around the girl’s waist, resting her chin on the fuzzy sweater on her shoulder, holding her in her embrace. Everything returned to how it was when they first met.

So happy!

Her fine nose nuzzled the other’s smooth neck. Her tongue trembled as she bit the woman’s gland.

The woman’s slender body trembled like a willow branch. Yan Qinghe closed her eyes and kissed the red lips that turned towards her. The other was a bit shorter than her, and kissing for a long time with her neck bent was uncomfortable.

Yan Qinghe lifted the other’s round, perky bottom, wrapped in a skirt, onto the railing. Using this leverage, she pressed her red lips against her own, swallowing her fragrant breath.

Is it Qianqian? Yan Qinghe cupped her hand, her fingers curled, unable to get a full grasp. It didn’t quite feel like her.

The other let out a soft moan from the kiss and suddenly blocked her increasingly bold…

Interrupted, Yan Qinghe opened her eyes. Mu Sixue’s usually cold eyes were shimmering with moisture, her face flushed a delicate red, like a red plum blossom blooming in the winter sun, swaying gracefully in the wind.

A charm she had never seen before.

Yan Qinghe’s heart pounded in panic. How could Mu Sixue be here! Isn’t it Qianqian?

“Put me down,” the other said, her dark brows furrowed. Yan Qinghe, seeing her lazily outstretched arms, prepared to lift her down.

I mistook her for someone else, Yan Qinghe thought with a bitter smile, already prepared to be scolded and humiliated.

Mu Sixue wrapped one arm around Yan Qinghe’s neck, her high heels stepping on the yellowed leaves. The crunching sound overlapped with the one from the day.

Yan Qinghe supported her round, firm bottom and, after she had landed steadily, was about to let go.

“Senior, you’re stepping on the fallen leaves,” Yan Qinghe reminded her. The carpet of leaves was thick; she had to be careful not to slip.

The other pulled her closer, her red lips breathing the fresh scent of truffle and white tea as she whispered in her ear, “Where are the fallen leaves?” The end of her sentence was hooked with a soft, alluring tone, making Yan Qinghe’s ear tingle.

“Under your feet, Senior,” Yan Qinghe answered honestly.

The fallen leaves were under Mu Sixue’s feet.

“Where is Summer?”

“Here.” Yan Qinghe lowered her eyes and her body slightly, bringing her pretty face down a few centimeters, making it easier for Mu Sixue to slap her.

Mu Sixue let out a soft “mm.” The light tap on her face was more of a caress that ended at the corner of her lips. Yan Qinghe was forced to lift her head.

Mu Sixue pinched her chin. Seemingly wanting a more satisfactory answer, she corrected her in a soft voice, “Summer is in Sixue’s heart…”