After Differentiating into an Alpha, I Marked My Love Rival - Chapter 30

Ji Yongshu finished watching the video with her headphones on, including the footage of her using pheromones to attack Zhou Yi at the back door.

 

It was illegal for an Alpha to attack someone with pheromones if it caused serious injury, but the state did not explicitly prohibit Alphas from using pheromones to threaten each other.

 

In other words, as long as no one was severely injured or killed, it was permissible.

 

Ji Yongshu’s actions tonight had gone beyond ordinary scuffles. If Zhou Yi really wanted to press charges, Ji Yongshu’s behavior could already be deemed illegal.

 

But Zhou Yi would absolutely never do that.

 

Once she exposed this incident, it would mean the humiliating scene of her being cornered would also become public knowledge.

 

Zhou Yi cared deeply about her reputation—she would never allow a fourth person to know she had been in such a sorry state.

 

Ji Yongshu hadn’t acted purely on impulse when she struck.

 

However, after this incident, there was likely no chance of reconciliation between her and Zhou Yi anymore. Zhou Yi must despise her now.

 

But that suited Ji Yongshu just fine—she loathed Zhou Yi just as much.

 

After all, it was Zhou Yi who had attacked her with a weapon first. Whether that wooden rod had landed on her or Jiang Zhiluo, it had filled Ji Yongshu with immense fury.

 

She had thought Zhou Yi would at least cling to some semblance of dignity, but she hadn’t expected the woman to be so shameless.

 

That wooden rod definitely hadn’t been picked up from the ground on a whim—meaning Zhou Yi had already prepared to attack an Omega with it, even without knowing Ji Yongshu would follow her outside.

 

Ji Yongshu felt that tonight’s kick had been too lenient. If circumstances had allowed, she would have returned that blow with the rod in kind.

 

Unsurprisingly, Zhou Yi would soon have someone delete this footage. But thanks to Ji Yongshu’s past favor with the bar owner, they had willingly handed her a copy in advance.

 

With this in hand, Zhou Yi probably wouldn’t dare cause trouble in front of her for a while.

 

Ji Yongshu saved the video, keeping it as leverage in case she and Zhou Yi ever reached a point of no return.

 

She removed her headphones and looked up at the sleeping Omega. Perhaps from crying so much earlier, a faint redness still lingered at the corners of Jiang Zhiluo’s eyes.

 

The anesthesia in her arm was gradually wearing off, and the Omega’s brows were tightly furrowed, her sleep restless.

 

Recalling the doctor’s words, Ji Yongshu knew Jiang Zhiluo would likely develop a fever tonight. Once the anesthesia fully faded, the worst of the pain would set in.

 

No matter what, Jiang Zhiluo had been injured protecting her. By both reason and sentiment, Ji Yongshu shouldn’t leave now.

 

And she had no intention of leaving.

 

That night, Jiang Zhiluo slept poorly. Sure enough, she developed a high fever by midnight, murmuring incoherently in her delirium.

 

Ji Yongshu, already a light sleeper, was roused by her soft, tearful whimpers. She got up from the cot and pressed a hand to Jiang Zhiluo’s forehead—burning hot.

 

She quickly rang the call bell, then hurried to the door to instruct the bodyguard stationed outside to fetch a doctor.

 

Jiang Zhiluo, lost in some unknown dream, suddenly began crying. Her sobs were quiet, just silent tears streaming down.

 

The Omega’s face was flushed red, streaked with tears, looking especially pitiable.

 

Jiang Zhiluo was already delirious from the fever, unable to recognize where she was or identify Ji Yongshu beside her.

 

She just whimpered and cried, fingers clutching tightly at the blanket covering her, lips continuously parting and closing. Only when Ji Yongshu leaned in closer did she hear the words:

 

“It hurts…”

 

“Sister, it hurts so much.”

 

Ji Yongshu’s jawline tensed. Without hesitation, she reached out and gently patted Jiang Zhiluo’s body, as if soothing a child to sleep: “I know it hurts. The doctor will be here soon.”

 

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll stay right here with you. I won’t go anywhere.”

 

Jiang Zhiluo whimpered incoherently, completely unable to understand Ji Yongshu’s words. Her hands flailed briefly in the air before being firmly grasped by another’s.

 

Ji Yongshu slowly interlaced their fingers, patiently comforting her: “Don’t cry, Zhiluo. Sister is here with you.”

 

Whether Jiang Zhiluo understood these words or just recognized the term “sister,” she gradually opened her eyes from the chaotic dreams, her eyelids feeling as heavy as if weighed down by a thousand pounds.

 

Everything before Jiang Zhiluo’s eyes seemed hazy, her mind a muddled mess from the fever that robbed her of all ability to think. She could only stare blankly at Ji Yongshu, her burning red cheeks still wet with tears.

 

The usually gentle and dignified Omega was uncharacteristically dazed, even forgetting to close her slightly parted lips as she gazed at Ji Yongshu with vacant eyes, her fingers still tightly gripping Ji Yongshu’s hand.

 

Ji Yongshu found nothing amusing about the situation. She wanted to wipe the sweat from the Omega’s face, but her more convenient hand was held captive. Forced into an awkward position, she gently wiped away the moisture on Jiang Zhiluo’s face.

 

The on-duty doctor arrived quickly.

 

Jiang Zhiluo’s fever was caused by the wound on her arm. Ji Yongshu had been mentally prepared for this, but seeing the Omega in such pain, her guilt and heartache far outweighed any panic.

 

While the doctor was present, Ji Yongshu couldn’t conveniently hold Jiang Zhiluo’s hand, yet the Omega refused to let go. The moment Ji Yongshu tried to pull away, Jiang Zhiluo, who had been lying quietly, immediately began to struggle.

 

After several attempts, Ji Yongshu relented.

 

She knew Jiang Zhiluo’s reactions were purely instinctive—the fever had clouded the Omega’s mind, making it unlikely she was acting this way intentionally.

 

Ji Yongshu had a restless night as well. By morning, she woke with a dull headache and faint dark circles under her eyes.

 

After freshening up briefly, she checked Jiang Zhiluo’s forehead one last time. Confirming that the fever wasn’t as severe as during the night, she quietly opened the hospital room door.

 

Outside stood Jiang Zhiluo’s bodyguard and Ji Yongshu’s driver. Ji Yongshu eyed the bodyguard for a moment before casually asking, “Why are you here today?”

 

This was actually her first time seeing this particular bodyguard—usually, it was the silent, burly man who accompanied Jiang Zhiluo.

 

The bodyguard hesitated, then cautiously asked, “What do you mean…?”

 

Ji Yongshu said, “Previously, it was always that tall, sturdy man with a black mole at the corner of his eye who followed Zhiluo.”

 

When the bodyguard arrived at the hospital last night, Ji Yongshu was already by Jiang Zhiluo’s side. Knowing that this Miss Ji was someone his employer trusted deeply, the bodyguard didn’t conceal anything:

 

“He seems to have taken leave.”

 

Ji Yongshu let out an ambiguous chuckle but didn’t inquire further.

 

She had a press conference today and couldn’t stay with Jiang Zhiluo for long. After giving a few brief instructions, she hurried back to the Ji residence.

 

She returned quite early, finding Bai Yingying and Ji Fengchu having breakfast at the dining table.

 

“Yongshu’s back.” Bai Yingying beckoned her over. “You mentioned a friend was injured last night. Is she alright?”

 

Ji Yongshu set down her bag. Having been unable to shower properly last night, she was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, now carrying traces of the chaotic scents from the bar—something she found rather unpleasant.

 

Yet there wasn’t any particularly offensive odor. The warm, sweet peach fragrance of an Alpha had overpowered the jumbled smells, leaving only a faint hint of peach wine lingering about her.

 

“She’s still in the hospital, but her condition has stabilized.” Ji Yongshu headed upstairs as she spoke. “I’m going to shower first.”

 

Today’s press conference wasn’t particularly challenging—just a straightforward announcement about her secondary differentiation into an Alpha. The media outlets invited were long-term collaborators who wouldn’t ask any awkward questions that might embarrass Ji Yongshu.

 

After a hot shower, Ji Yongshu changed into comfortable clothes. As she sat at the vanity applying skincare, her scent gland at the nape of her neck inexplicably began to feel warm.

 

Drying her hands, she pressed her fingertips against the gland. It wasn’t her imagination—the skin there was noticeably hotter than elsewhere.

 

Due to physiological factors, an Alpha’s scent gland would gradually degenerate, lacking the sensitivity of an Omega’s.

 

Yet when Ji Yongshu touched her own gland, she distinctly felt a wave of weakness wash over her body.

 

The sensation somewhat resembled how she’d felt before her differentiation, when she was about to experience a heat cycle.

 

But she had already completed her secondary differentiation. Logically, she shouldn’t be experiencing an Omega’s heat cycle anymore.

 

Ji Yongshu mentally calculated—this wasn’t even the time when her heat cycles used to occur.

 

An Omega’s heat cycles were relatively fixed in timing. Unless influenced by external factors, the cycle generally wouldn’t change arbitrarily.

 

After pressing for a while, the soreness in her gland gradually faded, and the abnormal warmth at her nape subsided.

 

Checking in the mirror, aside from a faint redness from prolonged pressure, there was nothing unusual about that spot.

 

Ji Yongshu temporarily set the matter aside, planning to schedule a thorough medical checkup when she had time later.

 

Both Bai Yingying and Ji Fengchu would be attending the press conference.

 

Though the number of media representatives present wasn’t large, they were all reputable industry professionals.

 

When Bai Yingying appeared with her daughter, even though everyone had been forewarned, the sight of the exquisitely beautiful and aloof Ji Yongshu still left them momentarily stunned.

 

Many of them had seen Ji Yongshu numerous times, some had even interviewed her before. They were extremely familiar with this woman who took over the Ji family as an Omega.

 

Including the fact that she had recently called off her engagement with her Alpha fiancée—everyone knew about it, and they also knew it was because her Alpha fiancée had cheated.

 

At the time, many found it hard to understand. Apart from being slightly colder than the average Omega, Ji Yongshu was practically perfect in every way. What more could her Alpha fiancée possibly want?

 

After the news broke, people had been secretly keeping an eye on Ji Yongshu, curious about who the next lucky person would be.

 

Who would’ve thought the woman would differentiate into an Alpha just like that?

 

The reporters’ feelings were complicated, but they didn’t forget their jobs in the end.

 

The press conference went smoothly. When the articles written by the journalists were published that day, they sparked massive discussions online.

 

The topic of Ji Yongshu’s secondary differentiation also trended on social media.

 

Everyone’s first reaction was disbelief.

 

As everyone knew, Ji Yongshu was an SS-grade Omega.

 

In this world, even an S-grade Omega was already incredibly rare, let alone an SS-grade one.

 

After all, the number of Omegas was far fewer than Betas to begin with, especially high-grade Omegas.

 

Ji Yongshu not only possessed a high grade but was also the sole heir of the Ji family. She garnered immense attention in every aspect, with everyone wondering who such a high-grade, wealthy, and beautiful Omega would eventually choose to marry.

 

It had to be at least an S-grade Alpha, right?

 

In fact, when Ji Yongshu first announced her engagement to Zhou Yi, a small portion of netizens felt it was beneath her.

 

They believed Ji Yongshu should have been with an SS-grade Alpha.

 

Otherwise, it would be a waste of her genes.

 

As everyone knew, the higher the grades of the Alpha and Omega, the more intelligent their child would be.

 

Zhou Yi’s grade wasn’t low, but it still couldn’t compare to Ji Yongshu’s.

 

After Ji Yongshu announced the end of her engagement with Zhou Yi, discussions had long since begun online about who her next fiancé would be. The most talked-about candidates were all S-grade or higher Alphas.

 

Everyone was waiting for news from Ji Yongshu’s side. When it finally came, it left them utterly shocked!

 

“This can’t be real, can it? Is secondary differentiation that simple?”

 

“So she went from an SS-grade Omega to an SS-grade Alpha??”

 

“Hahaha, as expected of my wife! Whether as an A or an O, she’s the best!”

 

“Hey, you up there, lay off the drinks! But speaking of which, isn’t that person from the Zhou family going to be fuming?”

 

People loved drama and couldn’t resist mocking Zhou Yi, even tagging her and the Zhou family’s official accounts to make sure they saw it.

 

Think about it—your former Omega fiancée, whom you cheated on and broke up with, suddenly differentiates into an Alpha with a higher grade than yours. Who wouldn’t feel bitter?

 

Who knew how Zhou Yi would react to this news, but the netizens were certainly having a blast.

 

“Thank you, thank you, I’m thrilled. This is literally the best way to get back at a scumbag Alpha!”

 

“I thought Miss Ji would find an Alpha of a higher rank than Zhou Yi to humiliate her, but it turns out my vision was too narrow!”

 

Of course, aside from skepticism and support, many also questioned the timing of Ji Yongshu’s differentiation.

 

However, since cases of secondary differentiation are rare and each individual is unique, no one could definitively say how long Ji Yongshu’s differentiation process had taken.

 

Ji Yongshu paid no attention to these online comments, but Zhou Yi, in a self-destructive manner, read through them for a while before smashing her phone in fury.

 

Last night, she had lain in that alley for over ten minutes before her bodyguards found her. The sheer humiliation of that moment was something Zhou Yi never wanted to recall again.

 

All the bodyguards who had witnessed the incident had been fired, and Zhou Yi had even forbidden them from staying in S City. She couldn’t bear the sight of them, as they served as constant reminders of her most disgraceful moment.

 

Although Zhou Yi had swiftly destroyed the bar’s surveillance footage afterward, and the owner had sworn no one else would ever know about it, she still couldn’t shake her unease.

 

Who knew if Ji Yongshu had kept backup evidence?

 

She was so agitated she hadn’t slept all night, wishing she could erase everyone who knew about the incident from the face of the earth—especially Ji Yongshu and Jiang Zhiluo!

 

Yet, right now, she was powerless against them.

 

Zhou Yi stared at Ji Yongshu’s cold, aristocratic face on her phone screen, gnashing her teeth with hatred, wishing she could tear through the screen and rip that hypocritical face apart.

 

Scrolling through the mocking comments below, her expression twisted with rage.

 

She had never suffered such humiliation in her life!

 

Born into wealth and having differentiated into an S-rank Alpha, Zhou Yi had always lived a charmed life—never before had she been ridiculed by so many people.

 

And now, she couldn’t even retaliate.

 

Zhou Yi was starting to believe Ji Yongshu had been born just to torment her.

 

She had planned to deploy her own online army to suppress the mockery, but before she could act, Xie Xi tore into her over the phone.

 

“Didn’t I warn you last night? Ji Yongshu is at the peak of her influence right now—we can’t afford to clash with her!”

 

Zhou Yi hastily agreed, but her expression darkened further. Listening to Xie Xi’s stern reprimand, she clenched her jaw so tightly it ached.

 

This was exactly why she resented Ji Yongshu.

 

Ji Yongshu had no siblings—she was the sole heir of the Ji family, never having to worry about inheritance battles.

 

But Zhou Yi? Despite being the nominal heir of the Zhou family, she was constantly controlled by her parents. She couldn’t even mobilize her own online army to drown out the ridicule.

 

Worse, she had to worry about her brothers exploiting this situation.

 

Zhou Yi felt like nothing had gone right for her lately. First, her well-matched engagement fell through, then the Omega she loved abandoned her, and now her carefully cultivated image was on the verge of collapse.

 

Meanwhile, her ex-fiancée was thriving, basking in the spotlight.

 

Zhou Yi dug her nails into her palm. Her bad luck wouldn’t last forever, and Ji Yongshu’s triumph wouldn’t either. The wheel of fortune would turn—just wait and see!

 

——

 

After the press conference, Bai Yingying took Ji Yongshu’s hand and cautioned her, “Too many eyes are on you right now. You need to be extra careful.”

 

Ji Yongshu was indeed in the spotlight, with countless eyes watching her every move. There was absolutely no room for carelessness.

 

Ji Yongshu nodded slightly. “Mom, I know.”

 

Bai Yingying sighed and rubbed her temples. “Are you still going to the hospital later?”

 

Seeing that Ji Yongshu had handed all the documents to Xie Yangqing behind her and seemed to have given some instructions, Bai Yingying guessed that Ji Yongshu still didn’t plan to go to the company.

 

“Yes, I might need to check on things at the hospital.” Ji Yongshu couldn’t rest easy. Jiang Zhiluo didn’t have many friends in S City, and staying alone in the hospital meant she had no one to talk to.

 

At the very least, Ji Yongshu wanted to make sure Jiang Zhiluo had something to do when she got bored.

 

Moreover, she had just given the Omega a temporary mark yesterday. An Omega lacking a sense of security would especially need her company at this time.

 

Bai Yingying nodded understandingly and didn’t press further. “By the way, your Uncle Chen’s youngest daughter recently fell off a horse and injured her leg. She’s also in the hospital. You should visit her while you’re there.”

 

Ji Yongshu’s expression shifted subtly. “Are you talking about Chen Qiuyun?”

 

Bai Yingying gave her a reproachful look. “Weren’t you two good friends back in school? Why are you asking me that?”

 

But then she remembered—somehow, Ji Yongshu and Chen Qiuyun had later had a falling out. Once the closest of friends, they ended up acting like mortal enemies.

 

Ji Yongshu cleared her throat, unwilling to dwell on the matter in front of her parents. “Alright, I’ll go see her later.”

 

Bai Yingying patted her shoulder. “I know you’re not thrilled, but we can’t neglect courtesy. At least buy a fruit basket for her.”

 

She didn’t know why Ji Yongshu had cut ties with Chen Qiuyun, but she still had a good impression of the Chen family’s daughter—a lively and polite young girl.

 

Recalling the past events, Ji Yongshu felt a cold sweat break out on her back. She nodded perfunctorily, afraid Bai Yingying might say more, and quickly turned to leave.

 

On the way to the hospital, Ji Yongshu bought the cheapest fruit basket she could find at a fruit shop. As she turned to walk back to the car, she noticed a flower shop next door.

 

Her steps paused, and she turned toward the flower shop instead.

 

About twenty minutes later, she got into the car with a smile, carrying the fruit basket in one hand and a carefully wrapped bouquet in the other.

 

Standing at the hospital entrance with her purchases, Ji Yongshu hesitated for a few seconds. Realizing the flowers wouldn’t keep, she decided to visit Jiang Zhiluo first.

 

She tossed the fruit basket to the driver waiting by the car and asked him to wait outside the ward. Then, holding the beautifully arranged bouquet, she entered the room.

 

Jiang Zhiluo had woken up once in the morning but only drank a little water. After last night’s fever, her lips were painfully dry, and she couldn’t even speak properly.

 

After drinking, she drifted back into a drowsy sleep. The bodyguard urged her to at least have some plain congee, but Jiang Zhiluo refused.

 

When her stubbornness flared up, not even ten oxen could pull her back. The bodyguard didn’t dare to force his boss, so he stood guard at the door with a pained expression—until he saw Ji Yongshu, as if spotting a savior.

 

“Miss Ji, Miss Jiang hasn’t eaten anything just now. If possible, could you persuade her to get up and eat something later?”

 

Ji Yongshu frowned slightly and nodded. She knew Jiang Zhiluo wasn’t refusing to eat because she wasn’t hungry—her wounds were simply too painful, leaving her with no energy for food.

 

But by the time she entered, Jiang Zhiluo had already fallen asleep again.

 

The Omega was sleeping restlessly, her brows tightly furrowed. Her nose was blocked, making it impossible to breathe, so she could only part her lips slightly. Her face was flushed red from the fever.

 

Ji Yongshu first wiped her fingers clean before reaching out to feel Jiang Zhiluo’s forehead. She noticed the Omega’s temperature seemed to have risen again, though not as alarmingly as the previous night.

 

Ji Yongshu then called the doctor back for another examination. Whether from exhaustion or something else, Jiang Zhiluo didn’t wake despite all the commotion, only murmuring a few incoherent words.

 

The doctor told Ji Yongshu, “The patient’s heat cycle has just ended. Since she received a temporary mark from an Alpha, I recommend having the marking Alpha use pheromones to soothe her.”

 

Ji Yongshu pressed her lips together. “Understood. Thank you.”

 

After everyone had left the room, Ji Yongshu slowly took Jiang Zhiluo’s hand. Warm, sweet peach fragrance began to permeate the air, enveloping Jiang Zhiluo like an impenetrable net.

 

Far from feeling uncomfortable, Jiang Zhiluo let out a contented sigh, her tightly knitted brows gradually relaxing.

 

Ji Yongshu dared not release too much, only letting out small amounts of her pheromones each time. When the Omega finally fell into deep, relaxed sleep, she slowly withdrew her pheromones.

 

Ji Yongshu tucked Jiang Zhiluo in, then after a moment’s thought, removed her coat and placed it beside the Omega. Though the coat carried little of her pheromones, it was better than nothing. She’d be back soon anyway—perhaps even before Jiang Zhiluo woke.

 

After straightening her appearance, Ji Yongshu squared her shoulders and exited the room, closing the door softly behind her. She took a fruit basket from the driver. “Wait here. No need to come up with me.”

 

Carrying the basket alone, she found Chen Qiuyun’s room using the number Bai Yingying had provided. Two black-suited bodyguards stopped her at the door. “This is a private ward.”

 

Ji Yongshu gave a slight nod. “I’m here to see Chen Qiuyun. Tell her my surname is Ji.”

 

Moments later, the bodyguards respectfully ushered her in.

 

Chin lifted, Ji Yongshu strode into the room in her high heels.

 

The standard VIP hospital room was now filled with all sorts of items—computers, gaming consoles, everything imaginable. Ji Yongshu even spotted a gaming chair by the computer desk.

 

Her lips twitched. “Didn’t you break your leg? How can you sit in a chair playing games?”

 

The Omega reclining on the bed cursed under her breath. “Ji Yongshu, can’t you say anything nice? It’s not broken—just slightly injured!”

 

Ji Yongshu made no comment, placing the fruit basket on the bedside table. “Brought you some fruit.”

 

Chen Qiuyun glanced at it and nearly laughed—not a single fruit she liked. There was no way this infuriating woman didn’t know her preferences. She’d clearly bought these to annoy her.

 

Gritting her teeth, Chen Qiuyun said, “You’re pettier than a needle’s eye.”

 

Ji Yongshu sat boldly by the bed, even crossing her legs. “Now that’s just unfair.”

 

“If I were really that petty, would I have specially bought fruits to visit you?”

 

Chen Qiuyun noticed the alpha sitting beside her casting a faint glance at her injured leg, as if regretting that she hadn’t injured both legs.

 

She spat out, “You’re such a sore loser.”

 

“So what if I confessed to you? Was it really necessary to ignore me for all these years?”

 

Ji Yongshu’s smile faded slightly. Just as she was about to say to leave the past in the past, Chen Qiuyun continued:

 

“Do you think I don’t read the news? You’re not the sweet, soft omega I liked anymore.”

 

“I have zero interest in stinky alphas!”

 

Her tone was full of disdain and contempt.

 

Ji Yongshu’s lips twitched. “Thanks a lot.”

 

She’d almost forgotten—Chen Qiuyun was a hardcore omega/omega shipper.

 

She would never know just how deep a psychological scar she had left on Ji Yongshu back then.

 

Chen Qiuyun snorted, about to speak, when she suddenly pursed her lips and frowned. Propping herself up with her arms, she leaned closer to Ji Yongshu, sniffing around her.

 

Ji Yongshu held her breath and leaned back. “What are you doing?”

 

Could there really be some scent on her?

 

After sniffing for a while, Chen Qiuyun’s eyes suddenly lit up. If not for her injured leg, she might have jumped up and grabbed Ji Yongshu’s shoulders to shake her violently.

 

“Ji Yongshu! Yongshu, my dear sister!”

 

Ji Yongshu instantly felt a chill down her spine—that old sense of being controlled was back. This was exactly how Chen Qiuyun had traumatized her!

 

Being confessed to by an omega wasn’t a big deal. What mattered was that this person was her friend, extremely clingy, and always did the most unexpected things.

 

Back then, young and naive, Ji Yongshu had been thoroughly frightened by Chen Qiuyun.

 

For years afterward, she couldn’t understand omega/omega relationships.

 

It was precisely because Gu Yiyi knew about this trauma that she had never dared to let Ji Yongshu discover her feelings.

 

Hearing Chen Qiuyun speak like this now, Ji Yongshu had the sudden urge to stand up and leave. But she wasn’t that 14- or 15-year-old girl anymore. Despite the momentary panic, her expression remained calm.

 

“Speak properly,” she said firmly.

 

Chen Qiuyun stared at her with shining eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll speak properly!”

 

“Can you tell me who the owner of this omega pheromone on you is?”

 

Her voice trembled with excitement, her eyes fixed intently on Ji Yongshu. Her throat moved unconsciously—she was actually salivating.

 

Ji Yongshu frowned and raised her wrist to her nose, lightly sniffing. Sure enough, there was a faint, elegant tea fragrance.

 

Probably left from when she was taking care of Jiang Zhiluo earlier.

 

For Chen Qiuyun to detect such a faint scent—was she part bloodhound?

 

A bad premonition flashed through Ji Yongshu’s mind. She pressed her lips together. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Just tell me, please!”

 

Chen Qiuyun was beyond excited. “This is literally my dream omega’s scent!”

 

Ji Yongshu’s fingers on her lap tightened slightly.