Chapter 17

Yan Qingqiu trotted upstairs.

Song Qingre lingered in the car for a long while, her hand gripping the latch beneath her to recline the seat. The scent inside the car had faded, yet it was like a faint flame that had ignited a long fuse, leaving her body in a restless state.

A moment later, she got out and greeted the butler. “Dong Shu.”

The butler nodded in response, and Song Qingre added, “By the way… how’s the doctor you scheduled last time coming along?”

“All arranged. We’ll take you straight to the hospital when the time comes—top specialists from home and abroad.”

Song Qingre asked, “Any gland specialists? My gland’s been acting up lately. Could you give me a number first? I’d like to ask about it.”

“Of course,” the butler said. “I’ll send you the email later. A gland issue is serious business—you should get it checked out properly.”

Song Qingre thanked him.

The butler lowered his voice and asked, “You and Miss seem closer now—looked like you two were having fun earlier.”

Song Qingre said, “It’s all right.”

The butler beamed and nodded. “Then a check-up is definitely in order, since you’re both alphas.”

Song Qingre paused briefly, then gave a casual smile. “Don’t tell her about this yet. She’s proud, and she’s easily embarrassed.”

“Understood,” the butler added. “Even if I know, I’ll pretend I don’t.”

The two exchanged veiled words, and Song Qingre entered the house, heading up to the second floor. She reached for the door handle, but the lock inside was firmly engaged.

Song Qingre retreated to her own room and took a shower, leaning against the wall to let the coolness ease the heat in her body. She stared downward, mulling things over.

Last time she’d helped Yan Qingqiu calm down, she hadn’t smelled any pheromones. Actually, ever since Yan Qingqiu had differentiated into an A, she’d never smelled her pheromones at all—because between two alphas, it was normal not to detect each other’s scent.

But that wisp earlier—that was omega pheromone.

The last few times, she… had also induced it.

The two had eaten out, then gone back to their rooms and not come out again. Song Qingre did step out a few times, testing the door lock beside hers. Yan Qingqiu kept it dead-bolted, and who knew what she was doing in there.

Yan Qingqiu had no choice either. During the day it was fine, but at night she couldn’t help it—she felt lonely and restless, and she’d keep slipping into the bathroom.

At 9 p.m., Song Qingre sat at her computer, reading the email the butler had sent. She typed away at the keyboard.

·

In the morning, Yan Qingqiu was listless and drained.

She pulled out her phone, searching for information, and reported her condition to the doctor.

The doctor replied with careful precision: 【You’ve entered the second stage. Your gland has begun to grow and secrete pheromones, and your bodily fluids will carry omega pheromones… But this is also good news—with the right approach, symptoms can be gradually alleviated.】

Yan Qingqiu’s face flushed. She ran downstairs, sat in the living room for a while, and touched her neck. It felt worse now—the bump at the back was more prominent. She glanced at the doctor’s message again.

She rubbed her gland a couple of times, then looked up and saw Song Qingre on the stairs.

Who knew how long the woman had been standing there, dressed in a black dress and half-hidden in the shadows, so hard to spot. Song Qingre walked down, lifted her chin, and asked, “What’s wrong with your neck?”

Damn it—she’d been so startled she’d forgotten to pull her hand away.

Yan Qingqiu moved her fingers up an inch and casually scratched the back of her head. “Oops, looks like I’m growing a brain.”

Song Qingre chuckled softly. “Qiu Qiu, you’re so amusing.”

Scared the life out of me.

Yan Qingqiu went for a stroll in the courtyard to clear her head, and only returned to eat once she felt fully comfortable.

Song Qingre was cutting the food on the table with elegant motions. “Qiu Qiu, what do you plan to do today?”

Yan Qingqiu’s original plan was to visit Su Xingjie, but given the shock she’d given her sister yesterday, it wasn’t the right time to meet. She was just about to say she’d stay home and do nothing when the doorbell rang. Outside stood a delivery guy on an electric bike, with two bouquets of flowers on the back seat. “Is this the Yan residence? There are flowers for Miss Yan.”

“Xing Xing’s so thoughtful.”

Yan Qingqiu got up to sign for them. She’d just written the first two characters of her name when she sensed something off. She pulled out the card inside and asked, “Who sent these?”

“A gentleman placed the order.”

Yan Qingqiu pushed the flowers back. “No thanks—take them away.”

“But the client insisted they be delivered…”

“I said no, and I mean no!” Yan Qingqiu clapped her hands in disdain. “Why is he so annoying? So low-class. He didn’t want it when I offered it, and now he’s lost his mind harassing me?”

She’d seen too many of Fu Ye’s kind—people who’d call and send flowers to string you along, but never actually meet you. If asked, they’d say they didn’t dare face you, when in reality they just wanted you to keep chasing, to become a moth to the flame again. “She” had been foolish before, but now she’d grown a brain.

Yan Qingqiu told the butler beside her, “From now on, if he sends flowers again, step on them right in front of me.”

Song Qingre came out from the living room and watched the delivery guy take the card out. She read it aloud: “tu es la lumière de ma vie.”

“You are the light of my life?” Song Qingre tore the card straight down the middle. “Last time he wrote me ‘est-ce que je peux voir ton ombre aujourd’hui?’”

“What does that mean?”

Song Qingre tossed the torn pieces from her fingertips and said without changing expression, “Whether I can make love to you tonight.”

The butler pursed his lips, wanting to say something but holding back.

“He’s so disgusting.” Yan Qingqiu frowned, catching the innuendo.

“I just received a payment of three million, and I can pay you back five hundred thousand. Want to come to the office with me?” Song Qingre was dressed formally, looking ready for work. Yan Qingqiu was about to refuse, but Song Qingre said, “What if he comes looking for you? He chased me all the way abroad before.”

Yan Qingqiu thought that was fair.

Song Qingre grabbed her car keys, noticed the butler give a slight nod, and shielded Yan Qingqiu as she led her to the car.

Once in the car, Song Qingre handed her a box—it was a perfume bottle.

Yan Qingqiu was puzzled. Everyone was giving her gifts today, it seemed. She spritzed some on her wrist, but only caught the scent of the perfume she’d sprayed that morning. “Why is there no smell?” she asked.

Song Qingre frowned. “That can’t be—this is an alpha soothing spray. Any alpha should be able to smell it.”

Yan Qingqiu’s heart jumped. She raised her wrist and sniffed again—still nothing. She said seriously, “It smells wonderful. So wonderful it’s made my sense of smell go numb.”

“It shouldn’t be that strong. Let me see—I remember…” Song Qingre took the bottle, sprayed it, and said, “Ah, wrong one. This is just tap water I filled recently.”

Yan Qingqiu: “…”

Are you insane?

“You fill a pretty perfume bottle with tap water? Are you that broke?”

Song Qingre said, “Not exactly. This is actually a mist bottle—I’m an artist, so I have to design artistic bottles. The weather’s been humid lately, so I kept the mist in the car.”

With that, she opened the glove compartment and took out an unopened perfume. Yan Qingqiu warily sniffed it first—this time there was a scent. She glanced at Song Qingre, then checked the ingredients, but still couldn’t make sense of them.

She was playing an alpha now; what if she couldn’t smell things meant for alphas? From now on, she’d have to be careful with anything anyone handed her.

“What’s wrong, don’t you like it?” Song Qingre asked.

“I’m just calculating how much it costs…” Yan Qingqiu started estimating the price. It did smell really good—she sniffed it a few times and felt more comfortable.

“It’s a gift.”

“Absolutely not. Tell me how much you paid and deduct it directly.” Yan Qingqiu was serious about settling accounts.

“You decide.”

Yan Qingqiu estimated in her head: “…Three thousand!”

Song Qingre nodded.

A thought struck Yan Qingqiu: she could get Song Qingre to pay off her debt faster by just grabbing the expensive-looking things from her office. That would settle it in no time.

Song Qingre started driving, and Yan Qingqiu pulled a small palm-sized notebook from her pocket. Song Qingre slowed down. “Write it later—don’t poke yourself in the eye.”

Yan Qingqiu carefully jotted down: 【Paid off 200k. 9/3, one perfume, three thousand】

Song Qingre waited until she finished writing, then remarked, “You didn’t pay off 200k yesterday. The painting and the kiss are still owed.”

Yan Qingqiu kept writing. “I’ll count those as owing. Anyway, there’s something I need to make clear. Drive first—I’ll say it when we get there.”

Song Qingre nodded.

The lights were all green on the way; it took half an hour to reach the company.

Once there, Song Qingre led her upstairs. “Should I close the door?”

“Yeah, close it tight—don’t want anyone overhearing.” Yan Qingqiu waited for her to shut it firmly, then tested it herself to make sure it wouldn’t accidentally open. She began scanning the office for valuables, observed for a long while, and finally sat in the boss’s chair, saying, “…From now on, you can’t talk about our relationship in public.” If people found out, she’d be the one embarrassed—and worse if they thought she was the one being kept.

“And then!”

Song Qingre was taking serious notes. “Go on.”

“If anyone finds out, you can’t say what you said yesterday. You say it’s all a misunderstanding—that we’re just in a contract. Your finances hit a snag, and I kindly helped you fix it. Don’t call it anything like a mistress—call it a proper business partnership.”

Yan Qingqiu’s eyes were full of calculation as she crossed her long legs. The office was decorated well enough—miscellaneous items adding up to roughly a hundred thousand, enough.

Song Qingre noticed her little moves and leaned against the desk. “Go on.”

More?

Yan Qingqiu felt a sudden surge of irritation at her composed demeanor. Song Qingre looked like she was saying, “Keep talking—I’ll do it again next time,” without a shred of sincerity.

“Could you at least look at me and take this seriously?”

Suddenly, Song Qingre leaned forward, her eyes fixed on her, leaving only a hair’s breadth between them. “Is this serious enough?”

Yan Qingqiu quickly reached out to cover her lips.

Song Qingre parted her lips, brushing against Yan Qingqiu’s fingers—a ticklish, tingly sensation that made Yan Qingqiu want to scream. Worse, her bones were about to melt.

Song Qingre didn’t argue. Her eyes, deep as a pool, were gentle. “I’ll listen to you.”

Yan Qingqiu felt even more embarrassed.

Song Qingre inched closer, the distance between them shrinking.

Yan Qingqiu wanted to bite her.

“If you bite the finger off, I can’t paint anymore.”

Song Qingre saw through her, smiling as she asked, “How much was it just now?”

“One yuan!” Yan Qingqiu gripped the armrest and tried to retreat, but Song Qingre was quick and pulled her back, looking her over.

“One thousand… that’s the most.”

Yan Qingqiu’s tongue was tied; she could barely speak.

Yan Qingqiu knew what she was staring at. Her mind was filled with the doctor’s words: a secondary-differentiated omega gradually grows a gland.

Song Qingre was merely looking at her neck, yet Yan Qingqiu felt unbearably uneasy, as if a hand were gripping her throat—the throat of fate.

Oh no—if she secreted pheromones and Song Qingre discovered her secondary differentiation secret, she didn’t dare imagine it!

“Huh… what’s this?” Song Qingre asked softly, sounding puzzled. “Qiu Qiu’s alpha rear gland looks so strange.”

Yan Qingqiu looked up at Song Qingre, her lips parting slightly.

No way—she was about to lose control and release pheromones…