After Differentiating into an Alpha, I Marked My Love Rival - Chapter 12

Jiang Zhiluo’s hand holding the milk bottle trembled slightly before she quickly steadied herself. The little puppy in her arms whimpered at the movement, prompting Jiang to rock it gently like a baby—a motion she performed somewhat awkwardly.

The puppy quieted down and resumed its noisy suckling.

A drop of goat milk dribbled down its chin, which Jiang hurriedly wiped away with a tissue.

Ji Yongshu didn’t rush her. Instead, she rested her cheek against her knuckles, watching Jiang quietly as she waited for her response.

Only after the puppy in her arms settled did Jiang finally look up at Ji through the screen, her voice soft but firm: “Director Zhou and I are just friends.”

This answer didn’t surprise Ji.

After meeting Zhou Yi earlier, Ji had carefully reconsidered the nature of Zhou and Jiang’s relationship and realized she might have misunderstood things from the start.

According to the initial investigation reports from Meng Chuyu, Jiang had only ever been slightly closer to Zhou, while it was Zhou who had relentlessly pursued Jiang with fervent enthusiasm.

Ji had jumped to conclusions, influenced by Zhou’s infatuated and reckless attitude, assuming Jiang felt the same way.

How could she have guessed that this might just be Zhou’s one-sided obsession?

Though Ji had only met Jiang twice, her judgment told her Jiang wasn’t the type to shamelessly meddle in someone else’s relationship.

Ji thought perhaps Zhou had been telling the truth—that she and Jiang had never officially been together, and on the surface, they were merely friends.

The only uncertainty lingering in Ji’s mind was whether Jiang harbored feelings for Zhou.

Subconsciously, Ji didn’t want Jiang to fall for a scumbag alpha like Zhou.

If Zhou could become so infatuated with Ji in such a short time, even breaking her promise to Jiang for her, could that really be called true love?

No—it only proved Zhou was an irresponsible, irrational, and unrestrained scumbag.

If she could betray Jiang for Ji today, she could just as easily betray Jiang for someone else tomorrow.

Ji firmly believed that cheating, once started, would happen countless times.

She wanted to know Jiang’s true feelings, not out of any ulterior motive, but simply because she didn’t want to see Jiang deceived.

Unfortunately, Jiang’s earlier response had been vague, and Ji couldn’t decipher the emotions in her eyes, leaving her unsure of what Jiang truly thought.

They might only be friends now, but once Ji and Zhou called off their engagement, that could change.

At this thought, Ji couldn’t help but sigh deeply. She warned, “Zhou Yi might not be someone worth entrusting your heart to.”

Ji disliked speaking ill of others or meddling in their affairs. She had always lived by the principle of minding her own business.

But in this moment, perhaps it was the tenderness in Jiang’s slightly lowered gaze or the adorable puppy in her arms that made Ji say more than she intended.

Realizing this, she sighed again. “Forget it. Pretend I never said anything.”

She must be out of her mind!

Who was Jiang Zhiluo?

The very person Zhou Yi was obsessed with—and quite possibly the one who had lured Zhou into cheating!

Of all people, Ji was advising her not to fall for Zhou’s deceit.

Ji felt like the biggest fool of all.

Before she could explain further, Jiang Zhiluo on the screen leaned closer, her features becoming clearer in Ji Yongshu’s view.

Jiang Zhiluo curved her lips slightly, strands of hair naturally framing her face, giving her a gentle and refined appearance. “I understand. Thank you for caring about me, sister.”

Ji Yongshu parted her lips as if to say something, but in the end, she remained silent, merely rubbing her temples wearily. “I’ve said all I needed to say.”

“Take care of yourself.”

She hung up the call.

Jiang Zhiluo stared blankly at the ended chat interface for a moment.

The puppy in her arms had already fallen asleep after drinking its fill of milk. Coming back to her senses, Jiang Zhiluo carefully placed it back into the box.

She had lined the box with a thick blanket, and the puppy slept soundly, its round belly looking soft and pudgy.

Jiang Zhiluo gazed at the little pup for a while before gently poking its tiny paw pads with her fingertip, murmuring softly, “You must prove yourself worthy.”

No sooner had she spoken than her phone on the coffee table suddenly rang.

Turning her head, Jiang Zhiluo’s smile faded slightly when she saw the caller ID.

It was Zhou Yi.

——

When Ji Yongshu stepped out of the car, her legs nearly gave way beneath her. Fortunately, Bai Yingying had been waiting at the entrance with help.

After the bodyguard steadied Ji Yongshu, Bai Yingying stood nearby with reddened eyes, hesitant to touch her. “Yongyong…”

Ji Yongshu grasped her mother’s hand briefly to soothe her unease, but soon let go.

Her body was so exhausted that even a simple handhold felt taxing—she couldn’t let Bai Yingying notice.

Especially now, with her unstable pheromones threatening to spill over at any moment.

Bai Yingying wiped her tears and quickly ushered everyone inside.

Seeing Ji Yongshu’s pale, drained expression, she was visibly shaken.

Ji Yongshu rarely showed such vulnerability. Mature beyond her years and always composed, even during past ruts, she had seldom worried Bai Yingying.

When had Bai Yingying ever seen her in such a state?

Ji Yongshu had been forcing herself to stay alert, but by the time she reached home, she was barely holding on. As she was helped into bed, her eyelids drooped heavily, even the effort to keep them open proving too much.

After that, Ji Yongshu remembered nothing. She slept deeply, only waking as evening fell.

The blackout curtains in the room blocked the sunset outside, leaving only a small bedside lamp to dimly illuminate the space.

Rubbing her temples, Ji Yongshu inhaled sharply before pushing herself up with her arms.

The persistent headaches these past two days were likely another effect of her secondary gender manifestation.

After freshening up in the bathroom, she studied her pallid reflection in the mirror, pinching her cheeks to coax some color back into them.

Recalling Bai Yingying’s concern earlier, Ji Yongshu sighed silently. She hoped this secondary manifestation would pass soon—she was tired of feeling so weak.

When she went downstairs, Bai Yingying and Ji Fengchu were in the living room, deep in conversation. Hearing her approach, Bai Yingying stood immediately.

“Yongyong, you’re awake.”

She hurried over, pausing briefly when she noticed the faint flush on Ji Yongshu’s face.

“Mom, is there anything to eat? I’m a little hungry.” Ji Yongshu forced a smile, deliberately rubbing her stomach in a childish, dependent manner to keep her mother from worrying.

“Yes, yes, it’s still warm in the kitchen.” Bai Yingying lowered her head unnaturally. “I’ll go get it for you.”

The moment she turned away, her eyes finally reddened.

Ji Yongshu sensed something was wrong.

Bai Yingying had never been good at hiding things—her emotions were always written plainly on her face.

Could there have been an issue with the test results from this afternoon?

Suppressing her thoughts, Ji Yongshu walked over to Ji Fengchu. “Dad.”

Ji Fengchu gave a quiet hum, gesturing for her to sit before speaking. “The test results from this afternoon are in.”

So that was it.

Ji Yongshu wasn’t panicked. She had already noticed something off with her body—she just didn’t know the exact cause.

“Were there any problems with the results?”

“You could say that.” Ji Fengchu sighed softly, taking a sip from his teacup before continuing. “The doctor said your current condition closely resembles an alpha’s rut.”

Ji Yongshu froze. No wonder she had been struggling to think clearly lately, acting purely on instinct and saying things she normally never would.

Like earlier, when she had misspoken while talking to Jiang Zhiluo.

If this was indeed a rut, then all her recent behavior could be explained.

“Yongshu.” Ji Fengchu set the teacup down, the clink against the table crisp and clear.

He looked at his daughter, suddenly realizing she had fully grown into an adult.

She had her own secrets now.

Ji Yongshu felt inexplicably tense, as if whatever her father was about to say would be crucial for her.

“You’ve been affected by an omega’s pheromones.”

Ji Yongshu stared blankly. “An omega’s pheromones?”

Ji Fengchu’s expression remained calm, his tone steady. “You know that alphas in rut require an omega’s pheromones for relief.”

Ji Yongshu nodded. This was basic knowledge taught in physiology classes before differentiation—common sense everyone had to learn.

“You’re undergoing secondary differentiation, and your pheromones are unstable.” Ji Fengchu looked at his daughter, his voice tinged with resignation. “You’re fluctuating between alpha and omega traits—affected by both alpha and omega pheromones.”

“Right now, you’ve entered a rut.”

Ji Yongshu stayed silent. She had a vague idea of what her father was implying.

Sure enough, the next moment, Ji Fengchu said plainly, “You need that omega’s pheromones to get through it.”

Her heart sank. The only omega pheromones she had encountered during this time were Jiang Zhiluo’s.

That faint scent of tea still lingered at the edges of her senses even now.

She had thought it was just her imagination—but perhaps it was her body’s way of reminding her that she needed an omega’s pheromones.

Why did it have to be Jiang Zhiluo?

Ji Yongshu pressed her fingers to her temples, frowning in frustration.

How was she supposed to get Jiang Zhiluo’s pheromones?

Pheromones are a private matter for everyone, not something to be casually revealed, let alone handed over to someone else. Unless it’s an extremely intimate relationship, no one would typically do such a thing.

Ji Yongshu didn’t consider her relationship with Jiang Zhiluo to be that close.

Besides, she was now an alpha—would Jiang Zhiluo really give her pheromones to an unfamiliar alpha, one who could even be considered a romantic rival?

Unless she had lost her mind.

Ji Yongshu had a throbbing headache.

Ji Fengchu watched her distressed expression, his tone still unhurried, as if this weren’t a big deal at all.

He asked, “That omega…”

“Who is she?”