A Sweet Soft Alpha and a Psycho-Beauty Go Viral Online (GL) - Chapter 3

Yu Wanyin was learning how to make coffee under Sister Han’s guidance. Every day, Qiao Sanghe needed her coffee — made exclusively with Colombian beans. From the ratio of water to beans, to the grind, brew time, and precise temperature — every step had to be exact. Any deviation in detail could ruin the entire flavor.

She followed each instruction carefully, memorizing every step down to the smallest detail. After a review, Sister Han gave a rare nod of approval.

“Didn’t expect you to pick it up this fast. Not bad. No wonder she chose you.”

“Huh?”

Yu Wanyin blinked, slightly puzzled. Was there something unusual about her being hired? And who exactly was “she”?

Sister Han’s expression shifted slightly. “Never mind. Just be meticulous when you’re dealing with the boss. She’s extremely particular about everything. Don’t say I didn’t warn you — if you mess up, the consequences won’t be light.”

Yu Wanyin nodded solemnly. It seemed her boss had quite the temper. She’d have to be especially cautious. Even though she hadn’t met the woman yet, a strange pressure already loomed in her mind.

The work itself wasn’t complicated. Most of the day was spent practicing coffee brewing and memorizing the boss’s personal dos and don’ts. According to Sister Han, there was a list of things she absolutely loathed, and Yu Wanyin was told never to violate them. She was also tasked with learning Qiao Sanghe’s full daily routine, organizing it into reports and spreadsheets for review.

Overall, it wasn’t a hard job — just… unnervingly tense. The longer she worked, the more she sensed something off, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. Everything just felt… strange.

Curious about her employer, she looked up “Qiao Sanghe” online. The search results showed an almost ethereal beauty — striking and elegant. There was something oddly familiar about her.

Yu Wanyin stared at the screen, her heart racing. A vague, intimate memory stirred. Had they… met before?

A flash of a long-forgotten night on the cruise ship — blurred images, burning cheeks, a heartbeat pounding like a drum.

She shook the memory away. There was no time for daydreams. Rent was due. She couldn’t afford romantic fantasies.

Qiao Sanghe’s schedule was fixed: coffee at 7 a.m. and 8 p.m., with an additional cup at noon on rest days. The temperature had to be adjusted according to the weather. It was now November — the air cold, the coffee needed to be hot.

Yu Wanyin carefully prepared a cup, following every rule she’d learned. She had brewed many failed batches throughout the day, to the point her tongue had gone numb. Still, she did her best with this one.

She poured it into a violet ceramic cup etched with ornate European patterns — the kind that whispered luxury and taste. Even the coffee set was some obscure high-end brand from France. Every item in this house screamed money.

Carrying the cup, she headed upstairs. Her heart began to race — probably from the nerves of finally meeting her boss in person.

The bedroom door was ajar. From inside, she could hear running water — the sound of a shower.

She knocked lightly. “Boss? I’m your new assistant. I brought your coffee.”

No response. Just the splash of water behind the bathroom door. She was about to knock again when a cool, elegant voice called out:

“Come in.”

Yu Wanyin entered cautiously. The bedroom surprised her — minimal, neat, almost sterile. Black and white tones dominated, and the decor was sparse but tasteful. It gave off a cold, lonely vibe.

She moved to place the coffee on the table — then suddenly the bathroom door swung open.

The sight that met her eyes almost made her drop the cup. Her breath caught. Her fingers tightened instinctively — remembering Sister Han’s warning about never making a mess in the boss’s room.

But still — this scene…

A tall, slender girl with flawless, pale skin walked out — completely bare, not a single stitch of clothing to cover her.

Yu Wanyin froze. Her face flushed deep red, her mind blank. She had no idea where to look. Her eyes darted away. She was terrified she’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to — afraid she’d be fired on her very first day.

It didn’t matter how breathtakingly beautiful Qiao Sanghe was. Or how her presence ignited something deep and instinctive. She didn’t dare glance again. Worse — her pheromones were stirring. She clenched her jaw and tried not to move.

Qiao Sanghe, in contrast, looked completely unfazed. Like this was just another Tuesday.

Her long lashes fluttered as she spoke again in a voice as chilly as ever.

“Why are you just standing there?”

“O-oh! Sorry, boss. I brought your coffee.”

Yu Wanyin stumbled over her words, avoiding eye contact entirely.

Qiao Sanghe gave a short, amused snort and casually wrapped a towel around herself. Her delicate shoulder peeked out, and a soft scent — like warm milk candy — lingered in the air. It didn’t match the iciness of her voice at all.

“Bring it here.”

Yu Wanyin handed her the cup, her heart pounding. Why was she this nervous? Her hands brushed against Qiao Sanghe’s as the cup changed hands, sending a jolt through her fingers — like a feather drifting across her palm.

Qiao Sanghe took a sip. The temperature was right — but the taste? Bitter, acidic, and flat. The aroma was gone, overpowered by an overly high brewing temperature. No complexity, no finish. It was terrible.

She barely stopped herself from spitting it out. Her beautiful face twisted with displeasure. The already cold tone of her voice dropped even lower.

“This is awful. Undrinkable. How hard is it to make one decent cup of coffee?”

Then, without warning, she tilted the cup and poured the entire contents over Yu Wanyin’s head.

Warm, bitter liquid soaked her hair, ran down her neck, and clung to her clothes. Sticky. Uncomfortable.

Yu Wanyin lowered her head. “…I’m sorry.”

She probably looked pathetic right now.

Qiao Sanghe looked at her for a moment — then chuckled.

She could tell this girl was afraid of her. She reached out, delicate fingers gently brushing the soaked strands of Yu Wanyin’s hair, and asked softly:

“Are you scared of me?”

“N-no. I just… I messed up the coffee. It’s my fault. I’m really sorry.”

Yu Wanyin was already ashamed — such a simple task, and she had failed. With a salary like this, she couldn’t afford to be incompetent.

Qiao Sanghe arched a brow. “Then why haven’t you cleaned it up yet? Didn’t Sister Han teach you anything?”

It was only then that Yu Wanyin noticed the coffee had dripped onto the floor. She scrambled to clean it, taking off her stained shirt and hurriedly wiping the floor with it.

Qiao Sanghe’s eyes darkened.

Her gaze lingered on Yu Wanyin’s lean, muscular arms — strong, defined — and suddenly a memory flickered. That night. That body. That heat.

Watching this beautiful Alpha on her knees scrubbing the floor…

It stirred something inside her.

A slow, sly smile curved her lips.

“Yu Wanyin,” she called softly. “Come here. It’s dirty over here too.”

As Yu Wanyin moved closer, Qiao Sanghe sat down languidly on the edge of the bed. The towel shifted slightly, revealing a long, flawless leg. She reached out, trailing her finger over Yu Wanyin’s shoulder and down her toned back.

“Did Sister Han ever tell you what happens… when you make a mess?”

Yu Wanyin’s heart nearly exploded. “Boss, I—”

But Qiao Sanghe let her towel slip, revealing her delicate calf — dotted with brown droplets of coffee.

The faint scent of vanilla rose into the air.

“Get on your knees,” Qiao Sanghe said, her voice low and dangerous.

“Lick it clean.”