The Amnesiac Omega Who Reels Me In Every Day – Chapter 88

Capture Plan

“I know where your mother is being hidden!”

Lu Jing drove off into the distance. Jiang Jinyi stood alone in place for a long time, wiping the tears from her eyes, staring blankly at the villa before her.

            

Empty and utterly desolate.

Completely different from how it had felt at first glance.

It truly hurt so much she could barely breathe.

            

Was Jiang Youwan really moving out?

If Youwan was not moving, why would Lu Jing have come to take luggage out of the house?

The door required a passcode and a fingerprint. How could Lu Jing possibly have known either?

            

Youwan must have told her—or Youwan had unlocked the door for her.

Jinyi remembered how, during those recent weeks of mutual torment, she had repeatedly told Youwan to get out.

She had said it so many times, hurled so many cruel words, so many terrible things.

            

Every single time, Youwan had stayed. But now, she was moving out.

A chill crept up from the soles of Jinyi’s feet, spreading through every limb and bone, seeping into her marrow until her body trembled.

An Alpha, gouging out her own gland¹ right in front of her omega—there was no act more ruthless, more devastating, more calculated to shatter someone’s hope.

            

She had gouged out her gland, abandoned her for two months without a single word or visit, left her to endure the most agonizing and vulnerable period entirely alone.

And now Youwan was leaving, while Jinyi herself wanted nothing more than to find her.

Wanted to find her and explain everything. Wanted to tell her that her mother was not dead.

            

Wanted to tell her that she no longer had to hate her, that they could figure it out together. Wanted to say that they still had a chance to be together.

But did any of those thoughts still mean anything now?

Jinyi began to doubt.

            

Abandoned for two months, waiting for two months, disappointed for two months—had Youwan’s heart already gone cold?

Anyone would have given up by now.

Not everyone would keep revolving around her. Once enough disappointment piled up and enough pain was endured, people left.

            

No one would wait forever.

Jinyi was devastated—utterly, unbearably devastated. She stood rooted to the spot, motionless. The Fu family driver, worried she would catch cold, urged her back to the car several times, but she did not budge. She pulled out her phone to call Youwan, typing in the string of numbers she had long since memorized.

But pressing the call button took real courage.

            

Whatever courage she had was already more than half shattered by what Lu Jing had said, now barely holding together.

She was genuinely terrified of hearing Youwan echo the same words Lu Jing had spoken.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed down anyway.

            

The phone rang about three times before a mechanical voice colder than the winter wind came through: “Hello, the number you have dialed is currently powered off…”

Time seemed to freeze for a long moment. Jinyi raised a hand and wiped her tears with the back of it.

The Fu family driver, noticing her state was wrong, got out and half-persuaded, half-pulled her back into the car.

            

Jinyi did not struggle. She leaned against the seat, tilted her head back in anguish, and closed her eyes.

The driver turned up the heat in the car and asked nervously, “Miss, are you all right?”

Jinyi felt wretched.

            

But she did not want to say a single word right now.

The driver took her back to the Fu Residence.

By the time she arrived, her condition had deteriorated badly—she could barely stand on her own.

            

Fu Mingyue had already gone to the company, and Grandmother Fu was out enjoying herself. A servant came to ask if she was all right; she shook her head, thinking she was simply sleep-deprived from a long night and had caught a chill.

After drinking a bowl of ginger soup, her mind was still a tangled mess, but the moment she lay down on the bed, she fell into a deep sleep within minutes.

That evening, when Fu Mingyue returned and heard from the servants that Miss Jiang had not seemed well all day, she went upstairs immediately to check on her. She found Jinyi curled up asleep under the covers, her face flushed. Fu Mingyue pressed a hand to her forehead and realized she was running a fever.

            

Fu Mingyue was deeply worried. She patted Jinyi’s cheek, trying to wake her. Jinyi half-opened her eyes, consciousness blurred, her head throbbing, her body utterly miserable.

She stayed awake for only a second or two, barely managing to answer one of Fu Mingyue’s questions before drifting back to sleep.

When the doctor arrived, she took Jinyi’s temperature—just over thirty-seven degrees, not a high fever. She gave her fever-reducing medication and advised observation for the time being.

            

Fu Mingyue stayed awake through the entire second half of the night, taking Jinyi’s temperature every hour. The readings fluctuated, rising and falling, and by dawn, her fever had climbed to nearly forty degrees.

Fu Mingyue rushed her to the hospital at once. It was a viral cold, and she was put on an IV drip.

Because her gland was damaged, Jinyi’s immune resistance was simply too weak.

            

Just like this—catching a chill was enough to trigger a cold and fever.

And her temperature kept fluctuating, never stabilizing, making it extremely hard to recover.

Jinyi was miserable. Her head throbbed, she had no appetite, no strength. She could not even look at her phone—the moment she tried, her eyes stung unbearably.

            

Fu Mingyue stayed by her side. Grandmother Fu kept her company too. Xu An and Ji Xiaoqin came to visit her. But during her waking hours, she still spent most of her time staring blankly at the ceiling or the window.

It was agonizing. She did not want to be awake. But she had already slept so long—she could not stay asleep even if she wanted to.

People always became fragile when they were sick, longing desperately for the one person in their heart.

            

But she could not see her.

Youwan would not come to visit her—just as she herself had not gone to see Youwan for that entire month and more.

That call that never went through was never returned, either.

            

Yet she did not recoil from the feeling. Instead, she leaned into it, because she knew that what she was experiencing now was less than a ten-thousandth of what Youwan had already endured.

This bout of illness lingered for nearly a week before showing even the slightest improvement. Fu Mingyue was thoroughly spooked by now and forbade her from going out in the short term—no stimulation, no excitement. She had to nurse her body back to health first.

Jinyi knew Fu Mingyue was worried about her, and she did not want to cause her any more concern, so she stayed home to recover.

            

Every day, she asked Secretary Song for updates on her mother’s whereabouts.

Another half-month or so passed. By the eve of Spring Festival, Jinyi’s health had improved considerably—bundled up warmly, she could stay out for longer stretches without discomfort.

But compared to an ordinary person, she was still frighteningly fragile.

            

Jinyi figured Youwan must have finished moving by now.

Where was she living now? She did not know. But Youwan surely still worked at Jiang Corporation—even without knowing her address, going to the company would give her a chance to see her.

She still did not want to leave any regrets. She needed to tell Youwan face-to-face about her mother, lay everything out in the open, and then have a proper conversation—reach some kind of resolution.

            

Whatever the outcome, Jinyi felt she could accept it.

It was deep winter now, colder than before. Luo City rarely saw snow—it had not snowed in over a decade—but this year, fine flakes drifted through the air.

Jinyi wore a thick lamb’s-wool coat, a scarf, and a mask. After walking a short stretch from the car, her hair was already dusted with snowflakes. A layer of crystallized sugar seemed to coat her eyelashes, making her peach-blossom eyes look even more tender and sweet.

            

Today was Monday, a workday. Youwan was busiest on Mondays—there was a high chance she would be at the office.

And even if she was not… Jinyi thought, she would shamelessly ask someone for her address. Either way, she was going to see Jiang Youwan.

She had made up her mind.

            

She stepped into the company. As expected, everyone immediately began buzzing with whispered discussions. She was not angry—she simply asked the receptionist, “Is… is my jiejie here?”

The receptionist quickly masked her surprise and replied politely, “You must mean President Jiang. President Jiang is in—she should be in her office. Shall I connect you?”

Jinyi nodded. “Mm.”

            

The receptionist dialed Youwan’s number. Jinyi could faintly hear Youwan’s familiar voice on the other end. Her heartbeat quickened, nerves tightening as the hand hidden inside her coat sleeve clenched into a fist.

“Chairman Jiang, the Second Miss has come to the company. She would like to come up and see you now—would that be convenient?”

After the receptionist asked, the line went silent.

            

The silence stretched for several seconds. In those few quiet moments, Jinyi desperately wanted to know what Youwan was thinking, what she was feeling.

The silence stretched on—so long that her heartbeat felt ready to burst from her chest. Suddenly, Jinyi’s phone rang. She instinctively moved to decline the call, but glanced down and saw the caller was Secretary Song. Every nerve in her body tensed even tighter as she pressed answer.

Secretary Song’s voice and Youwan’s response through the receptionist’s phone reached her ears simultaneously—but Jinyi only caught what Secretary Song said.

            

She said, “Xiao Jin, I know where your mother is being hidden. Come back now—we are setting out immediately, not a moment to lose!”

They found her mother’s location?

Jinyi froze for half a second, then quickly pocketed her phone, stepped forward, and seized the receptionist’s hand. Urgent and deadly serious, she said, “Tell her I have an emergency and have to go first. When I come back, I will come find her again!”

            

“And I will explain everything then!”

Seeing the receptionist staring blankly, Jinyi shook her by the shoulders and raised her voice: “Did you hear me?”

The receptionist nodded in a daze. “Y-yes, yes!”

            

“Thank you!” With that, Jinyi practically sprinted out through the Jiang Corporation entrance, climbed into the car, and told the driver to go find Secretary Song.

The receptionist watched Jinyi leave, thoroughly bewildered. She stood stunned for a while until a colleague from the next desk sidled over, pulling her into another round of gossip. Only then did she remember she needed to relay Jinyi’s message to Youwan. She raised the phone back to her ear and realized—the line had never been disconnected.

The receptionist wanted to die of embarrassment. She swallowed hard and stammered awkwardly into the phone, “Hello? President Jiang, the Second Miss said—”

            

Before she could finish, Youwan cut her off. “I heard everything.”

“Oh, okay…”

Youwan said nothing more and hung up.

            

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“Did you notice? President Jiang’s tone was so cold just now—cold enough to freeze solid. I almost felt chilled on the Second Miss’s behalf…”

“Of course it was cold. After everything the Second Miss has done, what more does she expect from President Jiang?”

“Who knows what she came back for this time. The way she looked—she had something to say? Wants to get back together?”

            

“Wants to get back together but does not even bother showing any sincerity. Look—she ditched President Jiang and ran off again.”

The two were gossiping with great enthusiasm when one of them suddenly noticed something and nudged the other. “Hey, hey, hey, shh—!”

Jiang Youwan had come down from the top floor at some point—so quickly that it must have been the very instant she hung up the phone.

            

Her fox-like eyes half-narrowed as she strode past the trembling receptionist and walked out through the entrance, gazing in the direction Jinyi had gone.

As though committing a prey’s scent to memory, her mind already formulating a capture plan.

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The author has something to say:

            

This capture plan does not use ordinary methods.

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