After Being Bitten By Top-Tier O, Flop A Went Viral - Chapter 14

14: Is It as Sweet as in Dreams?

When Qin Que arrived at the cafeteria, everyone else was already there.

Like the dormitory, the exterior of the school cafeteria maintained the old, uniform style, but the interior of the first floor had been completely renovated, divided into two windows selling dishes and staple foods.

Yan Yuzhen sat at the long table in the center of the cafeteria, vigorously stabbing the radish in her plate as if it were the head of an enemy.

In the corner, Jin Shuo stuffed rice into his mouth bite by bite, as if trying to choke himself to death.

Still not reconciled, huh?

Qin Que glanced at the other pair. Nie Sijun and Dai Yuchen were sitting together, but the atmosphere between them was palpably tense even from a distance.

Qin Que walked to the window where Yan Qing had already gotten her food.

The woman’s eyes scanned the dishes, probably choosing her favorites, and didn’t notice her arrival.

Is that enough to eat?

Qin Que looked at the clump of rice in Yan Qing’s plate, smaller than her own fist, and thought distractedly.

She noticed Yan Qing’s gaze linger briefly on the dish at the far edge of the counter.

It held a few pieces of golden, crispy fried pork chops. Just looking at them, one could imagine the sensation of biting through the crispy exterior to the tender meat inside.

But Yan Qing ultimately looked away and ordered a serving of shrimp with corn instead.

Then she glanced indifferently at Qin Que, didn’t greet her, and walked away, sitting across from Yan Yuzhen with a smile. “No matter how much you stab that radish, it won’t turn into a rose.”

Yan Yuzhen let out a pitiful “hmm” and finally ate the radish she had mangled beyond recognition.

Qin Que: “…”

She had definitely noticed me earlier.

The rice was free, but the dishes were outrageously expensive.

Calling it an overpriced college cafeteria would be an understatement—it was more like the prices in a tourist spot in a bustling area.

Qin Que ordered a simple dish of tofu and greens, and her campus currency was nearly halved.

For the first time in her life, having grown up without financial worries, she felt the preciousness of a meal through the lens of money.

“Anything else, classmate?” The girl at the counter asked patiently when Qin Que didn’t move.

Qin Que’s gaze fell on the plate of fried pork chops.

Even without pheromones, she could tell her aloofness had made Yan Qing unhappy.

Should she apologize?

But what then?

She still hadn’t figured out how to interact with Yan Qing.

If she apologized only to repeat her behavior, wouldn’t Yan Qing be even angrier?

After much deliberation, she didn’t buy them. Nor did she dare to sit near Yan Qing, choosing instead a table behind Jin Shuo.

Jin Shuo glanced back at her. Though his face was expressionless, Qin Que sensed a hint of camaraderie in his eyes.

After dinner, as dusk fell, Yan Yuzhen dragged Yan Qing for a walk on the playground. Qin Que returned to the dorm alone.

Then she was speechless at the sight of the water heater and washing machine, which required campus currency to operate.

She had thought 80 campus coins would last a while, but now it seemed they wouldn’t even cover two days.

Hot water flowed over her body, and Qin Que’s brain, which had been hyperactive since Yan Qing’s appearance, finally began to relax.

One hand braced against the faucet, she pushed her wet hair back from her face.

Took a deep breath. Held it.

In the brief, stifling suffocation, even the sound of her heartbeat seemed to vanish, leaving only the patter of water in her ears.

She recalled Yan Qing’s face—the woman’s fingers brushing her arm, the slap on her lower back, the tap on her hand.

A tingling sensation pierced through her skin, striking her brain.

The familiar heat coiled around her again. The alpha’s knuckles whitened as she gripped the faucet tightly.

The faucet twisted off-center under her force.

Icy water needled her skin. She exhaled sharply, gasping for air.

“Hah… hah…”

Still not enough.

Frustrated, she crouched, watching the water swirl down the drain.

Just thinking about Yan Qing made it impossible—impossible to think straight, to function normally.

She couldn’t treat Yan Qing like any other omega she’d met before.

She wanted to clasp that slender hand—so small it could easily be enveloped in her palm—and imagine its softness.

She wanted to get closer, to hold Yan Qing tightly, bury her face in that pale neck, and breathe in the intoxicating pheromones.

Even more shamefully, she wanted to know if the omega’s lips were as sweet as in her dreams, sweet enough to die for.

This was undoubtedly not love.

She had loved Yan Qing’s movies and once fantasized about meeting her.

But none of that had anything to do with her current desires. At least before that bite, her feelings for Yan Qing had been pure admiration and respect.

If she had met Yan Qing back then, she could have interacted with her guilt-free. Even playing lovers would have been an honor.

But now, she was just a despicable alpha controlled by her instincts, driven by pheromones, harboring ulterior motives.

Without love, desire led only to one outcome—she had seen it before.

Alphas reduced to beasts, omegas destroyed for no reason.

If Yan Qing knew what she was thinking, how would she see her?

She would surely be disgusted.

The cold water continued to beat down on her. After numbness, a faint warmth emerged.

Qin Que blinked, feeling a drop of warmth fall from her eyes, vanishing instantly into the cold stream.

When Yan Qing returned to the dorm, the pungent smell of medicine hit her.

Qin Que had already showered, dressed in gray button-up pajamas, one hand holding an open bottle of medicine as she rolled up her pant leg to reveal a bruised knee.

Hearing the door open, the alpha instinctively looked up, then quickly lowered her head and turned away upon seeing her face.

The dorm was much warmer than outside, but Yan Qing felt like she could see dark clouds hanging over Qin Que’s head.

How had things gotten worse in such a short time?

Yan Qing sighed softly.

She really didn’t like comforting people—most of the time, others comforted her.

But if left alone, who knew how long it would take for Qin Que to figure things out?

She didn’t mind, but she knew fans wouldn’t stand to see her treated so coldly.

If emotions flared and Qin Que got dragged onto trending topics, her good intentions would backfire.

Qin Que had expected Yan Qing to continue ignoring her, but the scent of wine-like pheromones suddenly enveloped her.

She looked up in confusion, meeting the woman’s gentle eyes.

There was a hint of helplessness, as if Yan Qing didn’t want to talk much, but she still reached out and took the medicine bottle from Qin Que’s hand.

“Let me do it.”

“No need!”

Qin Que refused without thinking.

But Yan Qing just looked at her calmly, unmoving.

The astringent note in the wine scent intensified, stinging Qin Que’s throat.

She knew Yan Qing was angry but had no way to explain.

Yet she instinctively avoided the consequences of refusing again and hung her head in defeat. “Then… thank you, Teacher Yan.”

Teacher, teacher, teacher—did she look that old?

Suppressing her irritation, Yan Qing pulled a chair over and sat across from Qin Que. Pouring some medicine into her palm, she pressed it firmly onto the bruised knee.

The warm knee trembled—it must have hurt—but didn’t pull away.

“Bear with it,” she said flatly, softening her touch to spread the medicine evenly.

The freshly showered body radiated heat. When Yan Qing’s fingers, chilled by the night air, touched her, Qin Que couldn’t help but flinch.

Yan Qing grabbed her knee and looked up. “Why are you pulling away?”

Her indigo eyes, clear as the sea under the light, seemed to see through all her filthy thoughts.

Her tone was gentle, but Qin Que heard an accusation.

If you had nothing to hide, why pull away?

“Sorry.”

Qin Que gripped the edge of the chair, tensing her body to stay still.

No one spoke again as the medicine seeped into her skin, soothing the ugly bruise.

From the live broadcast, it looked like a heartwarming scene.

The tall alpha sat obediently on a chair too small for her, looking down at the person tending to her with eyes full of guilt, grievance, and a barely perceptible heat.

The seemingly petite but strong omega focused on her knee, slender fingers massaging the injured area.

Only the two involved knew the truth.

Every time Yan Qing’s fingers brushed the taut muscles of Qin Que’s calf, the alpha’s breathing above her grew ragged.

Their wine-like pheromones intertwined, distinct yet inseparable.

The faint milky scent was pushed to a corner, nearly vanishing.

Yan Qing’s minor irritation faded in the strangely intimate atmosphere, leaving room for teasing.

She almost felt like she was bullying Qin Que.

But really, it was Qin Que’s fault for ignoring her first.

When she finished, Yan Qing shamelessly pinched the firm muscle she envied, making Qin Que jolt.

“All done. I’m going to shower.”

Cheerfully withdrawing her hand, she glanced at Qin Que’s flushed face and clenched fists, humming as she walked away.

Qin Que sat frozen for a long time before shakily pulling her pant leg down.

In the bathroom, the hot water was ready, and the room still carried traces of steam and the alpha’s scent.

Yan Qing disliked sharing private spaces but found the milky scent laced with wine oddly pleasant, making it easy to adapt.

Curled under the covers, Qin Que found no solace in the warm darkness. She listened as the shower stopped, the door opened, and Yan Qing walked out, settling at the desk to fiddle with small trinkets.

Finally, she couldn’t resist peeking out from under the blanket.

Yan Qing wore a pink-and-white short-sleeved nightgown, her damp chestnut hair gleaming like satin under the light.

Why didn’t she dry her hair?

Qin Que had been taught since childhood to dry her hair after showers to avoid shoulder pain.

She wanted to remind her but hesitated, retreating under the covers.

She didn’t dare provoke Yan Qing right now.

At exactly 10 p.m., the lights went out, plunging the room into darkness. The camera’s red light dimmed, its lens covered.

Qin Que heard Yan Qing climb into bed.

Time to sleep.

But she couldn’t.

Glancing at her phone, it was already 10:30.

Yan Qing’s side of the room was silent—probably asleep.

Qin Que turned over carefully, controlling her movements.

“Can’t sleep?”

The faint creak of the bed coincided with Yan Qing’s voice. Qin Que froze, then slowly peeked out to see Yan Qing sitting up.

“Good timing. Let’s talk.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Do you… have feelings for me?”

It clenched sharply, aching.