A White Cloud (GL ABO) - Chapter 11

“Will you marry me?” Shen Zhiqing asked.

Tomb Cheng froze for a second, then her face darkened completely, saying, “No.”

She walked toward the entrance to see her out.

Shen Zhiqing sat on the sofa, watching her movements, and said, “It’s fine if you can’t.”

Tomb Cheng turned back to look at her.

The woman matched her memory’s image, but her recent words and actions were completely contrary to the past, making Tomb Cheng suspicious.

“What did you say?” Tomb Cheng asked.

Shen Zhiqing met her gaze, twirling the ends of her curled hair with her fingertips, saying, “I said it’s fine if you can’t.”

“What does that mean?” Tomb Cheng asked, looking at her as if she were a stranger.

Shen Zhiqing stood barefoot and walked to her.

One stood on the entrance platform, the other below, narrowing their height difference.

Shen Zhiqing only needed to tilt her chin slightly to meet Tomb Cheng’s eyes.

“Does it mean we can be like before?” Shen Zhiqing asked.

Tomb Cheng’s throat felt dry.

She wanted to ask what “like before” meant—was it what she thought?

Shen Zhiqing considerately clarified her confusion.

She hung her coat on the rack, stepped on Tomb Cheng’s feet through her slippers, stood on tiptoes, and kissed Tomb Cheng’s chin, just like she used to reward her.

“Is that okay?” Shen Zhiqing asked, her voice soft and melodic, like a spring breeze washing over Tomb Cheng’s heart.

Tomb Cheng’s hands clenched nervously, her throat swallowing hard as she looked at her.

Her limbs felt heavy, like lead, but she still managed to hold Shen Zhiqing’s waist to prevent her from falling.

Tomb Cheng’s body had already answered more honestly than her words.

Shen Zhiqing wrapped her legs around Tomb Cheng’s waist, and Tomb Cheng lifted her, carrying her weight.

Back in the bedroom, before reaching the bed, Shen Zhiqing was pinned against the door.

The Alpha murmured softly, “Zhiqing…”

The cherry wine scent intoxicated Tomb Cheng, her thirsty body erupting with endless desire, all marked with Shen Zhiqing’s name.

Seeing the Alpha consumed by passion, Shen Zhiqing didn’t have time to despise herself before the Alpha stripped away her coverings.

“Zhiqing…” Tomb Cheng called again.

The Alpha’s exhaled breath was too hot, scorching her body, igniting deep-seated desires within.

“Senior Sister…” Tomb Cheng said.

Shen Zhiqing’s pheromone concentration overwhelmed, fully occupying the Alpha’s senses.

Each breath carried the sinful allure of desire, laced with the pain of cherry wine.

Bang.

Sweat beaded on Tomb Cheng’s forehead, her eyes revealing unmasked panic and fear.

She had nearly bitten Shen Zhiqing’s gland, only stopped by the electric pain shocking her scalp, suppressing her body’s restless urges.

“Get down,” Tomb Cheng said through gritted teeth, her body radiating coldness.

Shen Zhiqing trembled in fear, clung tightly to her shoulders, and refused to move, saying, “No.”

Tomb Cheng’s fist slammed into the wooden door, leaving a dent like a skull’s eye, mirroring the gaping wound in her scalded heart.

Shen Zhiqing had just used her pheromones to manipulate her, nearly forcing her into heat.

This loss of bodily control hadn’t happened in nearly ten years.

Veins bulged on Tomb Cheng’s clenched fist, her voice trembling with anger as she spoke clearly, “Has Senior Sister forgotten her own words?”

Had she forgotten the cruel, fearless words that tore apart Tomb Cheng’s sincerity?

Her anger surged, amplifying her emotions.

The restless urges churned her pheromone pool into chaos, but the coursing electricity suppressed the disorder.

Tomb Cheng pinched her palm to regain her rationality.

Shen Zhiqing sensed the abnormality in her, jumped off her body, turned, opened the door, and vanished from Tomb Cheng’s sight.

Seeing her leave, Tomb Cheng exhaled in relief.

Good, she’s gone. Her lingering will reminded her not to hurt Shen Zhiqing.

As Tomb Cheng stepped out to close the door, Shen Zhiqing rushed back from across the hall, saying, “Wait.”

She was breathless from her speed.

Tomb Cheng saw her clutching something but couldn’t speak before Shen Zhiqing pulled her back into the room and slammed the door shut.

Shen Zhiqing pushed Tomb Cheng to sit on the bed’s edge and touched the gland on her neck.

Tomb Cheng tried to pull away, but Shen Zhiqing scolded sharply, “Don’t move!”

The reprimand awakened Tomb Cheng’s ingrained obedience.

She sat upright, head high, as if awaiting inspection.

As expected, the gland on her neck appeared abnormal.

Shen Zhiqing’s brows furrowed tightly after confirming with her eyes.

Normally, a gland matched the skin’s color, but when pheromones destabilized, signaling early disorder, the gland turned slightly transparent, visibly showing the fluctuating pheromones within.

Tomb Cheng’s gland matched that state, slightly paler than her skin, with faintly rebellious pheromones visible underneath.

Shen Zhiqing applied a soothing agent around the gland, calming the not-yet-fully-disrupted pheromones.

The electric current in her body faded, and Tomb Cheng sighed in relief inwardly, though her heart raced with anxiety.

Shen Zhiqing, sharp and a doctor, clearly understood her condition.

“When did this happen?” Shen Zhiqing asked, discarding the used soothing agent and wiping her hands with a tissue.

Facing her question, Tomb Cheng felt like she was on pins and needles.

“Is this why you came back?” Shen Zhiqing asked again.

A damaged gland could lead to countless unknowns, with no guarantee against accidents.

Only such a reason could explain Tomb Cheng’s return from the military.

Retiring honorably due to injury was better than any worse scenario.

Tomb Cheng adjusted the watch on her wrist, saying, “Hmm.”

A single word confirmed all of Shen Zhiqing’s suspicions.

A thunderclap sounded, followed by a flash of lightning outside.

Huajing’s first spring rain poured down, blanketing the city.

The sharp rain, like a panicked deer, pattered chaotically against the glass.

Shen Zhiqing suddenly crouched before Tomb Cheng, resting her face on her knees, rubbing against them fondly.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Whether for just now or for the hurtful words she said in the past, she didn’t clarify.

But when hot tears soaked into Tomb Cheng’s pants, she couldn’t bring herself to blame her.

Tomb Cheng lifted her onto her lap, wiping her tears gently, her tone soft as if nothing had happened, saying, “It’s not your fault.”

Her injury stemmed from a wrong command in combat.

Joining the military was her own escape from unwillingness.

Shen Zhiqing did no wrong; she simply didn’t like her.

The Omega, fragile as a kite with a broken string, fell into Tomb Cheng’s arms.

Tomb Cheng comforted her, wondering why she was crying.

Was it sadness for her injury, or relief that she posed no threat?