Jiang Sixian noticed her expression and softened her gaze. “Jiang Yi, I don’t think blood relations would affect anything between us. As long as we don’t have children, it’s nobody else’s business.”
Jiang Yi thought Jiang Sixian’s perspective was incredibly progressive and bold. She sucked in a breath through her teeth and thrust her thumb in Jiang Sixian’s face. “True love conquers all—you’re really avant-garde!”
Jiang Sixian chuckled and scooted closer. “This game has a two-player mode. Want to share a controller with me? I’ll play with you.”
Jiang Yi glanced up at her, puzzled. “Does Jiang Yi play games too?”
Jiang Sixian paused, then nodded. “She does. And she’s really good at it.”
Jiang Yi felt like the logic finally made sense—Jiang Sixian probably wanted to relive the feeling of playing games with the original Jiang Yi.
She handed over the controller, unplugged her headphones for external audio, and said, “Alright, let’s play together. I’m usually alone at home anyway, so it gets pretty boring.”
After all, Jiang Sixian was the closest person to her in the past six years, aside from Grandma and her comrades-in-arms. Now that Jiang Yi had confided her secret about this world to Jiang Sixian, she felt an inexplicable closeness to her.
She was the first person to know her secret, the first omega whose pheromones didn’t repulse her, the first to share an intimate night with her, and the first to make her feel less lonely in this world.
So Jiang Yi didn’t resist Jiang Sixian’s closeness, even though she knew the person reflected in Jiang Sixian’s eyes wasn’t truly her.
Jiang Sixian sought warmth from her, but after revealing her secret, Jiang Yi realized she was also drawing comfort from Jiang Sixian—something to ease her own loneliness.
They played for a while, and after the game ended, they headed to the bathroom.
Jiang Yi had initially refused to shower together, but Jiang Sixian whispered something about what had happened between them a few days prior, leaving her no choice but to reluctantly agree.
After freshening up, Jiang Yi handed Jiang Sixian a set of pajamas, and they lay side by side in bed.
The curtains were left open, allowing the city’s restless glow to spill through the window and pool at the bedside. Jiang Yi stared at the ceiling, inexplicably unable to sleep.
The thought of meeting Jiang Sixian’s parents tomorrow unsettled her.
Restless, Jiang Yi tossed and turned, shifting constantly. The movement didn’t go unnoticed by Jiang Sixian, who turned onto her side to study Jiang Yi’s profile.
“Can’t sleep?” she asked softly. “Are you feeling unwell?”
In Jiang Sixian’s understanding of alphas, they were typically driven by desire. During her teenage years, she’d researched extensively and learned that alphas were physically honest creatures—pure in public, unrestrained in private, often preferring bold omegas who could match their intensity.
Some alphas struggled with self-control, growing restless if they went even a day without release.
But Jiang Yi wasn’t like that. She had remarkable restraint—unless she was truly overwhelmed, or unless Jiang Sixian made it clear she wanted it, she wouldn’t indulge.
Thinking this, Jiang Sixian reached out, cupping Jiang Yi’s cheek and turning her face toward her. “If you’re uncomfortable, tell me. If it’s something I can help with, I don’t mind you using me to solve it.”
Jiang Yi turned her head slightly, silently studying Jiang Sixian. In the darkness, Jiang Sixian’s eyes reflected the city lights, bright and mesmerizing.
Her heart skipped, and she suddenly wanted to kiss her. But she resisted, instead taking Jiang Sixian’s hand from her face and holding it.
“I have a question for you,” she said.
Jiang Sixian’s gaze softened. “Ask me anything. I’ll answer.”
Jiang Yi hesitated before finally mustering the courage. “Can you tell me about your family? Yours… and Jiang Yi’s?”
She didn’t dare imagine what parents who had lost a child would look like. Ever since arriving in this world, she’d spent countless nights wondering how her own parents had reacted upon seeing her corpse in the morgue.
Even though they had another daughter, they had loved her just as much.
Because she knew they loved her, the guilt over her death weighed even heavier. If she hadn’t saved that child that day, maybe she’d still have a bright future ahead of her. Her parents would have been proud of her growth, spared the grief of burying their own child.
She regretted it sometimes—but never the act of saving that child. Because if that child had died, another set of parents would have been left heartbroken.
And now, tomorrow, she would face grieving parents who had lost their daughter. She had taken over their child’s body, giving them false hope of a resurrection.
Since she’d already agreed to this, Jiang Yi figured she might as well go all the way—comfort these parents, mend their shattered hearts.
At the very least, it would be a way to honor the original owner of this body.
Jiang Sixian hadn’t expected this question. After a pause, she decided to share.
“My family… my mom divorced my birth father early on. She and your mom knew each other since childhood, so they stayed close even after the divorce. Around the time I was twelve, they started dating…”
She hesitated before continuing. “And you… you were raised by another mother, not Jiang Mom. It wasn’t until you were fifteen that Jiang Mom even found out you existed.”
Jiang Yi blinked. “Was Jiang Yi… illegitimate? What about the other mother? The one who raised her?”
Jiang Sixian met her gaze steadily. “She passed away. Before you turned sixteen. Cancer.”
A sharp pain lanced through Jiang Yi’s chest, and tears she didn’t understand spilled from her eyes.
It hurt. It hurt so much—as if she herself had lost a mother, grief so overwhelming she couldn’t stop crying.
Jiang Sixian saw the tears glistening on Jiang Yi’s face in the dim light, her own heart aching. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Jiang Yi’s damp eyelid.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have told you something so painful.”
Jiang Yi had forgotten everything—this sorrow should have been erased too. But Jiang Sixian couldn’t help telling her, because she knew how deeply Jiang Yi had loved her mother.
Jiang Yi blinked, exhaling shakily. “It’s fine. I asked. I just… didn’t expect Jiang Yi to have gone through that. I thought she grew up as pampered as you.”
Jiang Sixian shook her head. “She was loved. Jiang Yi’s mother adored her.”
Jiang Yi swallowed. “I know. I just meant… I assumed she was born with a silver spoon.”
She sniffled, changing the subject. “What about your birth father? Where is he now?”
Jiang Sixian’s voice turned cold. “He’s a murderer. In prison.”
Jiang Yi hadn’t anticipated that. She reached out, patting Jiang Sixian’s back in comfort. “You’ve had it rough too.”
The daughter of a killer must have endured plenty of whispers growing up. Both she and Jiang Yi came from fractured families—maybe that shared pain was what drew them together.
This teenage romance seemed oddly fitting.
Jiang Sixian nestled into Jiang Yi’s arms, resting her head against her chest. “Can you hold me tonight? Like you did before. I miss Jiang Yi’s embrace.”
Her voice was so pitiful that Jiang Yi couldn’t refuse. She wrapped an arm around Jiang Sixian, murmuring, “Sleep. I’ll sleep too.”
“Okay.”
The night passed peacefully. The next morning, Jiang Yi woke to her internal clock and slipped into the bathroom to take care of her body’s needs.
When she stepped out, the doorbell rang. Puzzled, she went to answer it and found several beta women in black suits and sunglasses standing outside, looking intimidating.
For a second, Jiang Yi thought she’d been tracked down by some shady organization—until they introduced themselves as Jiang Sixian’s bodyguards.
The leader handed her a garment bag. “These are Miss Jiang’s clothes for today. Please pass them along.”
Baffled, Jiang Yi took the bag and returned to the bedroom to wake Jiang Sixian for breakfast.
At ten in the morning, they set off for the airport. The entire ride, Jiang Yi fidgeted nervously.
Jiang Sixian noticed, resting a hand over hers. “It’ll be okay. Don’t be scared.”
Despite the reassurance, Jiang Yi’s anxiety didn’t fade.
Standing side by side at the arrivals gate, they drew curious glances from passersby. Jiang Yi felt like an exhibit at a zoo.
She scratched her cheek. “Are they here yet?”
Jiang Sixian squeezed her hand. “They’ve landed. They’ll be out soon.”
Just then, a tall woman in a beige blazer and sunglasses appeared, supporting another woman as they walked out.
Jiang Sixian tightened her grip on Jiang Yi’s hand. “Your mom’s here.”
Before Jiang Yi could react, the woman in the blazer froze, her gaze locking onto her.
Jiang Yi blinked. “Where?”
Then the woman rushed forward, calling out, “Jiang Yi!”
In seconds, she had Jiang Yi in a crushing embrace, sobbing uncontrollably. “You… you’re… my baby… you’re okay… I’m so sorry…”
Jiang Qionghua clung to her miraculously returned daughter, overcome with emotion. Jiang Yi felt her own eyes sting and hugged her back, mustering the courage to say, “M… Mom?”
Jiang Qionghua pulled back, tearing off her sunglasses to reveal red, swollen eyes. “You… you called me Mom?”
Wait, was that wrong?
Jiang Yi glanced at Jiang Sixian, whose eyes were also wet, silently asking, Is this your mom?
Confused, Jiang Yi turned back to Jiang Qionghua and tentatively tried, “Auntie?”
Surely she couldn’t have messed this up too.
If you’d like to read ahead and support me, you can request extra chapters or get the full novel as an EPUB.
