Chapter 51: Fifty-One

In the bathroom, Li Yuanxi seemed oblivious to the cold. The wind seeping through the cracks didn’t bother her.

She washed her hair and body, then rushed out with a flushed face. Wei Shu wrapped a blanket around her immediately, leaving the water bucket behind.

She took Li Yuanxi by the hand and hurried back to the cave. Sitting by the warm fire, Li Yuanxi wore a silly grin, as if her facial muscles were uncontrollably pulling up.

Wei Shu dried her hair, sealing the cave door tightly. She added more wood to the fire to raise the temperature.

Everything felt floaty to Li Yuanxi. It was like sitting on a cotton candy, about to take off. She felt awful, nauseated.

A dry heave startled Wei Shu. She grabbed the trash can and held it for Li Yuanxi. Li Yuanxi retched bitter stomach acid, looked at Wei Shu through teary eyes, and curled into a ball.

Wei Shu gave her hot water to rinse her mouth, then more to drink and sweat. They had no medicine, only their own immune systems to rely on.

Expressionless, Wei Shu helped Li Yuanxi lie down, wrapped her in the blanket, and filled two glass bottles with boiling water, screwing the lids tight. She wrapped them in cloth and placed them at Li Yuanxi’s feet and against her chest.

The two bottles provided extra warmth. Li Yuanxi curled up, hugging the bottle close. She watched Wei Shu busily moving around, then drowsed off.

Wei Shu sat on the bed’s edge, feeling Li Yuanxi’s forehead. She hadn’t started a fever yet, just a chill.

Firelight filled the cave, warmth circulating. Wei Shu got up and opened the small window block on the wooden door to let in fresh air.

Li Yuanxi felt like she was back in the ocean, the undulating waves giving her no solid ground. She floated, sinking as she lost her balance.

“Cloud Wave Mountain’s sea of clouds is a grand sight. Especially Golden Blade Summit. When the sun shines, it’s like a golden sword standing between heaven and earth.” An impassioned male voice spoke, filled with longing. Li Yuanxi couldn’t see who was speaking.

She tried to move toward the voice. Who was talking?

“Golden Blade Summit? I’d rather see the Golden Blade Waterfall, known as the waterfall cut by heaven.” A clear female voice sounded in her ears.

Whose voice was that? So familiar.

In a thick, white fog, an invisible force pushed Li Yuanxi down. She fell involuntarily, terror surging as she plunged from a height.

Suddenly, a blinding white light flashed. Li Yuanxi raised her hand to shield her eyes. When the light faded, she saw where she stood.

She was wearing a pink cold-weather jacket and climbing gloves, fully equipped at a mountain peak. Li Yuanxi took off her climbing sunglasses.

She saw the breathtaking scenery around her. Golden sunlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating the entire peak.

Sunlight gilded Golden Blade Summit. The golden blade, spanning heaven and earth, stood sharp, ancient, and commanding. The golden radiance gave it incomparable splendor.

Blinded by the light, Li Yuanxi put her sunglasses back on and looked around. Again, an unexpected shove sent her falling off the cliff.

She saw who pushed her—the teacher who had guided her into this career, the person she respected, who had recommended she climb this Golden Blade Peak.

She had no time to ask why. She only heard the wind rushing into her eardrums, painfully loud, like they would burst from the pressure.

When her body hit the ground, she escaped that fatal scene.

Li Yuanxi looked at her former self, long forgotten. She’d forgotten what she used to look like.

Then memories blossomed. She saw her disgust and self-loathing toward the new parts of her body.

She also recalled many neglected memories: every time she played basketball and her body changed, the irritation and nausea she thought she’d hidden well.

But she’d ignored that everyone around her had eyes and cared about her, especially Wei Shu, always behind her.

Li Yuanxi watched the back of someone carrying her for a slow walk. She reached out, wanted to say something, but vanished before the words came.

A profound, lost confusion filled her soul and body. Her head spun, and she opened her eyes.

Her throat was painfully raw, her body weak. She struggled to sit up for water. Wei Shu entered the cave, plastic sheeting draped over her, her hair dripping.

Wei Shu removed her rain gear, went to the bed, and felt Li Yuanxi’s forehead—it was hot. She was sweating cold. Wei Shu quickly poured a cup of hot water, added a few grains of salt, and brought it to Li Yuanxi’s lips.

Li Yuanxi drank greedily with her eyes closed. Halfway through, she stopped, pursed her lips, turned her head. “Too… salty…”

Wei Shu touched her forehead. Her hand was cool and felt good. Li Yuanxi nuzzled against it, making pleased humming sounds.

“You, I told you not to go out, but you wouldn’t listen.” Wei Shu rested her chin on Li Yuanxi’s head. Li Yuanxi lay in her arms, then felt uncomfortable again, moving away with a whimper.

Wei Shu stood, wrung out a wet cloth to wipe her down, then changed her clothes with effort. Dressed in dry clothes, Li Yuanxi was comfortable. She drowsily opened her eyes, grabbed Wei Shu’s hand, and said, “Little Shu, do you really not mind that I’m an alpha?”

“Huh?” Wei Shu frowned in confusion. “What are you dreaming about? When have I ever minded you being an alpha?”

She didn’t know Li Yuanxi’s real heartache. In her previous life, Li Yuanxi had liked girls, but her crushes had always been unrequited and fruitless.

She’d been a girl for over twenty years on Earth, never expecting to become an alpha that made her feel inferior.

She kept wondering why, when she reincarnated, she hadn’t drunk the Meng Po soup, to become a true alpha.

Her innate respect and protection for girls weren’t limited to omegas or alphas. Rumors said she wasn’t discriminating, and that she liked alphas because she was an incomplete, defective alpha.

All sorts of absurd rumors circulated, until Li Yuanxi had few alpha friends left, mostly betas.

Her respectful, protective attitude toward omegas, even empathizing with some of their unspoken struggles, earned her the nickname “friend of omegas.”

But none of that mattered now. Li Yuanxi had gradually let it go. She just wanted to stay with Wei Shu, marry her, and maybe have two babies.

She’d braved the rain to hunt this deer because a cold snap was coming. She’d calculated that in two days the temperature would drop at least ten degrees.

She needed another deer hide to make their quilt big enough.

Their clothes were also insufficient. The two suitcases they’d found only contained one autumn coat and pants each; the rest were thin clothes, useless near freezing.