After Differentiating into an Alpha, I Marked My Love Rival - Chapter 6

Xie Yangqing said, “I’ll send Jiang Zhiluo’s information to your email as soon as possible.”

 

Ji Yongshu nodded and rubbed the back of her neck again. She wasn’t sure if it was because the secondary differentiation was affecting her body, but she kept feeling her gland itching and burning.

 

Noticing her movement, Xie Yangqing reminded her, “You might experience discomfort during this period—gland inflammation, physical weakness—it’s all normal.”

 

In truth, these symptoms had persisted for a while, but Ji Yongshu had assumed it was just her body preparing for an approaching estrus cycle.

 

She never expected it to be the effects of secondary differentiation.

 

At this thought, Ji Yongshu couldn’t help but let out a long sigh. “Omega suppressants might not be useful anymore.”

 

Xie Yangqing nodded. “Your body is in a delicate state right now. Omega suppressants won’t be very effective—you might need to pair them with alpha suppressant patches.”

 

Ji Yongshu was still using omega suppressant patches, but they were no longer very effective for her. Even Xie Yangqing, a beta, could smell her pheromones.

 

“The doctor prescribed some medication for you. I’ll explain the dosage and usage later.”

 

Ji Yongshu nodded, and Xie Yangqing suddenly remembered something. “Oh, and during this time, it’s best if you avoid physical contact with omegas.”

 

Ji Yongshu’s heart tightened. She suddenly recalled that last night, she hadn’t just been in contact with an omega—she had been intimating with one.

 

Could that be why her body was feeling even more discomfort now?

 

“What if…” Ji Yongshu hesitated before asking tentatively, “What if I’ve already had close contact with an omega? What would happen?”

 

Xie Yangqing didn’t think much of it. After all, Ji Yongshu had always been an omega before this, and omega friends often liked to stick close together. It was perfectly normal for her to have interacted with omegas.

 

That was precisely why Xie Yangqing had to remind her.

 

As the eldest daughter of the Ji family, Ji Yongshu frequently attended omega gatherings, and there was always a chance she might get too close to someone.

 

“The other person’s pheromones might have some effect on you.”

 

But just how significant that effect would be, even the doctor couldn’t say for sure.

 

Cases of secondary differentiation were rare to begin with, and individual differences varied greatly. The doctor could only advise Ji Yongshu to be cautious.

 

For some reason, Ji Yongshu had a bad feeling about this. She nodded absently, keeping her worries to herself.

 

Surely, she couldn’t be that unlucky, right?

 

With something like this happening, Ji Yongshu couldn’t hide it from her family. So, in the afternoon, instead of going to work, she packed up and returned to the Ji residence.

 

The news of Zhou Yi’s change of heart had only spread among the younger generation—no one dared to bring it up to the elders yet. Ji Yongshu’s parents were still unaware.

 

Ji Yongshu’s mother was a petite, gentle omega named Bai Yingying, from a scholarly family, exuding an air of refined elegance.

 

Not seeing her mother in the living room, Ji Yongshu headed straight for the study and, sure enough, found Bai Yingying reading by the floor-to-ceiling window.

 

“Mom.”

 

Bai Yingying jolted awake from her book and turned to see her daughter standing at the study door, eyes slightly red as she gazed at her.

 

Startled, Bai Yingying quickly set the book aside, removed her glasses, and stood up to approach her daughter. “Yongyong, you’re back. Why didn’t you call me?”

 

As she drew closer, she noticed the unmistakable exhaustion on Ji Yongshu’s face, and her own eyes welled up with worry. “What’s wrong?”

 

Bai Yingying had always been the most cherished youngest daughter in her family. After marriage, her husband spoiled her endlessly, and her daughter had been obedient and sensible since childhood, never causing her any trouble. Bai Yingying had lived a life free of hardships, her personality still somewhat naive and sentimental.

 

She looked even more aggrieved than Ji Yongshu, tears quickly pooling in her eyes, her face unable to conceal her anxiety. “Yongyong, say something!”

 

Ji Yongshu sighed silently and squeezed her mother’s hand. “Mom, don’t worry. I’m fine.”

 

She was just exhausted—her legs, still in high heels, were trembling slightly.

 

“Come in and sit down first.” Bai Yingying wiped her tears, realizing she had overreacted. “Tell me everything.”

 

Ji Yongshu pondered how to downplay the situation. Just seeing her fatigue had made Bai Yingying tear up—how would she handle the truth?

 

“You might… have an alpha daughter now.”

 

Bai Yingying froze for a moment before tears rolled down her cheeks, though her voice was oddly calm. “Did your father cheat?”

 

Ji Yongshu nearly choked on her own saliva and quickly shook her head. “No, no!”

 

She realized her earlier statement had been ambiguous—no wonder Bai Yingying misunderstood.

 

“It’s me. I might be undergoing a secondary gender differentiation into an alpha.”

 

This time, Bai Yingying fell silent for much longer, staring wide-eyed at her daughter as if trying to discern whether this was a joke.

 

Though she had once wondered if life would be easier for Ji Yongshu as an alpha, Bai Yingying had never thought being an omega was a disadvantage.

 

The Ji family had the power to overcome any obstacle and establish Ji Yongshu as the next heir.

 

Ji Yongshu herself had the ability to win over the board of directors—her omega status had never been a hindrance.

 

Bai Yingying had never imagined the day her omega daughter would become an alpha.

 

“I-Is it true?”

 

Her tone held little joy, only deep concern and confusion.

 

How could a secondary differentiation happen so suddenly?

 

“Did something happen?”

 

Though Ji Yongshu remained close to her family as an adult, she had her own secrets. Bai Yingying didn’t know if her daughter had suffered in ways she couldn’t see.

 

She had heard of secondary differentiations—there were many precedents, but it wasn’t something that happened to everyone.

 

The medical community generally believed that secondary differentiations were often triggered by trauma.

 

Bai Yingying dreaded the thought that Ji Yongshu might have endured something painful.

 

Her thoughts were transparent, all her emotions written plainly on her face. Ji Yongshu could read her mother’s mind at a glance.

 

“Mom, nothing happened. I just haven’t been feeling well lately, and the hospital tests showed I’m undergoing secondary differentiation.”

 

“The differentiation is progressing steadily and should complete its transformation this month.”

 

As Ji Yongshu spoke, she took out the medical report from her bag and handed it to Bai Yingying.

 

Bai Yingying carefully examined the report. Though she couldn’t understand some of the professional data, she could still conclude from the report that Ji Yongshu’s condition wasn’t serious.

 

Bai Yingying heaved a deep sigh of relief, “Have you told your father yet?”

 

Ji Yongshu nodded, “Xie Yangqing has already informed him.”

 

Bai Yingying held her daughter’s hand, her worried expression lingering, “How do you feel about this?”

 

She feared her daughter might struggle with the gender transition. After all, Ji Yongshu had lived as an omega for twenty-five years. Suddenly becoming an alpha wouldn’t just mean a gender change—it would alter many habits and lifestyle aspects.

 

Ji Yongshu, however, appeared remarkably calm. From the moment she received the news, apart from brief initial confusion, she had quickly composed herself.

 

Truthfully, she didn’t care whether she was an alpha or omega. Secondary gender could only influence her life to a certain extent—it wouldn’t change her goals or aspirations.

 

Whether alpha or omega, she was destined to be the next heir of the Ji family.

 

So, hearing her mother’s concern, Ji Yongshu actually comforted Bai Yingying instead: “Mom, being an alpha or omega makes no difference to me. I’ll always be your daughter.”

 

Seeing her daughter calmer than herself, Bai Yingying finally relaxed.

 

Her greatest fear had been Ji Yongshu’s inability to accept the transformation.

 

“Being an alpha isn’t bad,” Bai Yingying stroked her daughter’s head, “At least we won’t have to worry about you being bullied anymore.”

 

This world remained unfair to omegas.

 

Bai Yingying had always worried her daughter might face mistreatment. Before agreeing to the Zhou family’s marriage proposal, she had thoroughly investigated Zhou Yi, only consenting after confirming the woman’s good character.

 

Yet even she hadn’t anticipated Zhou Yi would betray their trust so quickly.

 

The thought of the arranged marriage resurfaced Bai Yingying’s worries: “How should we explain this to the Zhou family?”

 

When the marriage was initially arranged, the Zhou family had explicitly stated that while Ji Yongshu and Zhou Yi didn’t need romantic feelings, they must produce a child.

 

The Zhou family needed an heir.

 

Bai Yingying had consulted Ji Yongshu’s opinion at the time, only agreeing after receiving her daughter’s consent.

 

Ji Yongshu hadn’t overthought it then—with no one she loved, the partner’s identity mattered little.

 

She admitted there was some self-abandonment in her thinking: since she couldn’t be with the one, she wanted, anyone else would be a compromise—Zhou Yi was as good as any.

 

This remained her perspective until Zhou Yi’s infidelity.

 

Even without secondary differentiation into an alpha, she likely wouldn’t have married Zhou Yi.

 

Loyalty was fundamental to marriage—even without emotional foundation, infidelity remained unacceptable.

 

Though now, Ji Yongshu couldn’t claim complete moral high ground either.

 

Although the other party was indeed at fault first, she had also been taken advantage of by another omega while unable to resist. This could barely be considered as putting a cuckold’s horns on Zhou Yi.

 

What’s more, she was about to differentiate into an alpha.

 

Ji Yongshu pondered the matter in her mind while verbally responding to Bai Yingying, “I’ll find a way to break off the engagement with the Zhou family.”

 

Bai Yingying sighed, “That seems to be the only option.”

 

Fortunately, it was only an engagement, and the marriage formalities hadn’t been completed yet.

 

Ji Yongshu hadn’t told Bai Yingying about Zhou Yi’s infidelity yet, but she later mentioned it to her father.

 

Ji Yongshu’s father, Ji Fengchu, was an S-class alpha. Years of holding a high-ranking position had given him an imposing and authoritative demeanor, with a face that commanded respect even without anger.

 

In front of his daughter, however, his expression softened considerably.

 

“Zhou Yi cheated?”

 

Ji Fengchu mulled over the matter, glancing at Xie Yangqing beside him. Seeing the other’s calm and composed expression, he guessed that Xie had already known about this.

 

It seemed Ji Yongshu had deliberately kept it from him.

 

Ji Yongshu nodded. She reclined on the sofa, holding a cup of warm milk and sipping it slowly.

 

“I met that omega, but we barely spoke.”

 

She omitted the chaos of catching them in the act yesterday, only briefly mentioning it.

 

Ji Fengchu contemplated for a moment. “Since Zhou Yi was the one at fault, we naturally don’t need to concede.”

 

The key now was to find evidence of Zhou Yi’s infidelity.

 

Ji Fengchu immediately thought of the omega who had come between his daughter and Zhou Yi.

 

“That omega—”

 

Ji Yongshu suddenly interrupted him. “Dad, leave this matter to me.”

 

“Don’t interfere.”

 

As she spoke, an image flashed through Ji Yongshu’s mind—a face as delicate as a lotus bathed in rain, those tear-filled eyes seemingly etched into her heart, making her recall last night’s events over and over.

 

It was actually the first time she had been taken advantage of like that, the first time she had been so intimate with someone.

 

Hearing her words, Ji Fengchu looked surprised. He stared at Ji Yongshu for a few seconds before nodding. “Alright.”

 

Yongyong seemed to be protecting that omega.

 

No, perhaps “protecting” wasn’t the right word—she simply didn’t want him to take action against that omega.

 

If Ji Fengchu handled this, his methods would undoubtedly be forceful and direct, aiming to resolve the matter as quickly as possible.

 

Ji Yongshu intended to gather evidence of Zhou Yi’s infidelity, but she had no plans to target an omega. In her view, Zhou Yi bore the greater blame.

 

She had people monitor Zhou Yi around the clock, determined to obtain proof of the affair.

 

Ji Yongshu knew it was only a matter of time before Zhou Yi’s misdeeds were exposed, but she hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

 

Due to the effects of her secondary differentiation, Ji Yongshu hadn’t been going to work recently. Instead, she stayed at the Ji residence with nothing to do, spending her days accompanying Bai Yingying in reading and admiring flowers. Her life had become so leisurely that she was practically growing moss.

 

She rarely lived so idly. Back in school, she had been busy with various tutoring classes and learning different skills. After starting work, she was constantly traveling and attending social engagements—when did she ever have time to enjoy life?

 

Seeing her daughter’s pale complexion day after day, Bai Yingying learned to prepare various nourishing soups, hoping to fatten her up a little.

 

Ji Yongshu wanted to refuse but couldn’t, hiding from Bai Yingying every day to avoid being forced to drink soup.

 

Curled up in her room, her soft body sprawled on the sofa, she was watching TV on her tablet when her phone suddenly rang.

 

Ji Yongshu picked it up—it was Xie Yangqing calling.

 

“Did something happen at the company?”

 

Though she hadn’t gone to work, she still needed to handle tasks remotely.

 

Xie Yangqing’s voice came through the receiver, “The company’s fine. It’s about Miss Zhou Yi—there’s been a development.”

 

Ji Yongshu sat up straight on the sofa, her back rigid, her voice lowering slightly as if afraid she might mishear.

 

“Zhou Yi went to see Jiang Zhiluo?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Ji Yongshu couldn’t quite define the emotions in her heart. After a few seconds of silence, she exhaled deeply. “Keep a close eye on her.”

 

Zhou Yi—was she really that impatient?

 

It hadn’t even been that long, and she was already seeing Jiang Zhiluo again.

 

Ji Yongshu recalled that faint, elegant tea fragrance, and to her surprise, she felt a twinge of regret.

 

What a shame. Such an omega—why did she have to go and seduce someone else’s fiancée?

 

——

 

Zhou Yi hurriedly pushed open the car door. Before entering the private restaurant, she glanced around, feeling as though someone was watching her.

 

She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, but lately, she’d often felt eyes on her—yet every time, she found nothing amiss.

 

Zhou Yi rubbed her temples, chalking it up to exhaustion from overwork.

 

She had asked Jiang Zhiluo out many times, and only now had the other woman reluctantly agreed to meet—at a location Jiang Zhiluo had chosen.

 

Truthfully, the last time at the bar, Zhou Yi had rushed over after hearing Jiang Zhiluo was there. But that night, they had only exchanged a few words before everything else became a blur.

 

Zhou Yi suspected her health was deteriorating from overwork and resolved to schedule a medical checkup.

 

Why would she faint for no reason?

 

The sound of running water reached her ears, pulling her back from her thoughts. She quickened her pace, walking inside without looking back.

 

When she reached the reserved room, she spotted two bodyguards standing at the door from a distance.

 

Her expression darkened instantly.

 

Jiang Zhiluo was always on guard around her, bringing bodyguards every time they met—as if Zhou Yi were some kind of man-eating monster.

 

She just liked Jiang Zhiluo. Even if Jiang Zhiluo didn’t reciprocate, Zhou Yi had never done anything inappropriate. Why the need for such precautions?

 

Despite her irritation, Zhou Yi forced a smile. Once the bodyguards opened the door, she adjusted her clothes and stepped inside with a bright expression.

 

“Zhiluo.”

 

Jiang Zhiluo sat at the table, leisurely brewing tea. The air was filled with the scent of tea leaves—bitter, with a hint of sweetness.

 

Zhou Yi had once caught Jiang Zhiluo’s pheromones by chance—this same light, delicate tea fragrance.

 

She took it as a subtle hint from Jiang Zhiluo, and the displeasure she’d felt upon seeing the bodyguards vanished. Her heart felt drenched in honey, her smile growing even brighter.

 

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

 

Jiang Zhiluo didn’t respond. She didn’t even glance up, continuing to brew her tea with delicate fingers wrapped around the porcelain-white cup—so pale it was hard to tell which was whiter.

 

Zhou Yi didn’t feel awkward at all as she sat across from Jiang Zhiluo, propping her chin on her hand while leisurely watching the other woman brew tea.

 

A beauty was pleasing to the eye no matter what she did.

 

Just by looking at Jiang Zhiluo, Zhou Yi felt her heart gradually settle, growing calmer amidst the fragrance of tea.

 

How could there be someone like this—someone who made her heart race with just a single glance?

 

The first time she saw Jiang Zhiluo, Zhou Yi had felt as if she had known her for eternity.

 

Even though this woman had never shown her a friendly expression and had consistently rejected her advances, Zhou Yi still believed it was only a matter of time before they got together.

 

Jiang Zhiluo would eventually accept her pursuit—after all, there was no alpha more outstanding than her by Jiang Zhiluo’s side.

 

Jiang Zhiluo was fully aware of her thoughts but gave no indication of acknowledgment.

 

And so, they remained locked in this stalemate.

 

Time passed indeterminably before Jiang Zhiluo finally poured a cup of tea—only for herself, ignoring Zhou Yi completely as she took a sip.

 

Zhou Yi rubbed her hands together. “No share for me?”

 

Jiang Zhiluo lifted her eyes briefly to glance at her before replying slowly, “How could I dare serve tea I brewed to Miss Zhou?”

 

Hearing that soft, delicate voice, Zhou Yi’s heart melted into a puddle. “But I want to drink the tea you made.”

 

Jiang Zhiluo ignored her. Seeing that the other woman wouldn’t pour for her, Zhou Yi had no choice but to sheepishly pour a cup for herself.

 

Jiang Zhiluo didn’t stop her.

 

After taking a sip, Zhou Yi fell silent for a moment before asking, “Why did you agree to meet me today?”

 

In the past, if she managed to get Jiang Zhiluo to agree to an outing once out of ten attempts, it was already a miracle.

 

Jiang Zhiluo lowered her gaze, concealing the thoughts in her eyes. “Because you’re too annoying.”

 

Rather than being offended, Zhou Yi actually laughed at the insult.

 

Jiang Zhiluo had always spoken to her like this—never sparing her any courtesy—but in Zhou Yi’s eyes, it only proved how comfortable Jiang Zhiluo was around her.

 

“It’s not that I want to annoy you—I just can’t help myself.”

 

As she spoke, warmth rippled in her eyes, her tone dripping with affection as she gazed at Jiang Zhiluo with unmistakable love.

 

Unfortunately, Jiang Zhiluo didn’t even bother to look up at her.

 

Zhou Yi continued unprompted, “I want to see you every day. Outside of work, I spend all my time thinking about you.”

 

No matter how tenderly she spoke, Jiang Zhiluo’s expression remained indifferent—neither interrupting her nor responding.

 

Only after Zhou Yi finished did Jiang Zhiluo finally raise her eyes to meet hers. “But you’re already engaged.”

 

Those words instantly shattered the tenderness on Zhou Yi’s face.

 

Frowning, she studied the girl across from her, searching for any trace of jealousy on that composed face.

 

Yes, she must be jealous.

 

Otherwise, why would she care so much about the engagement?

 

“Didn’t I already explain this to you? It’s just a business alliance. I don’t like Ji Yongshu.”

 

“That kind of spoiled young lady—domineering and overbearing, nowhere near as beautiful or gentle as you.”

 

In front of the one she loved, Zhou Yi disparaged her fiancée, hoping Jiang Zhiluo would let the matter go.

 

Though she adored Jiang Zhiluo, she wouldn’t break off her engagement with Ji Yongshu for her.

 

Was an engagement really that important?

 

As long as her heart belonged to Jiang Zhiluo, wasn’t that enough?

 

Jiang Zhiluo’s fingers tightened around the teacup. She closed her eyes, refusing to look at that detestable face across from her.

 

Some people obtained what others could only dream of with such ease, yet they scorned it without a second thought, utterly unaware of its worth.

 

How could Zhou Yi possibly deserve it!

 

A wonderful person like my sister deserves a better partner—it doesn’t have to be me, but it absolutely cannot be Zhou Yi!

 

Jiang Zhiluo took a deep breath internally, suppressing the urge to throw tea in Zhou Yi’s face. She opened her eyes and curled her lips into a faint smile. “I’ve told you before—I won’t be your secret lover.”

 

Zhou Yi grew impatient. “It’s not like that! Ji Yongshu and I have no emotional connection. Even if she knew about us, she wouldn’t say anything.”

 

“Our marriage is purely a business alliance—just a partnership between our families. What right does she have to control me?”

 

Jiang Zhiluo couldn’t hold back a cold smirk. Fortunately, Zhou Yi was too blinded by desperation to notice, mistaking it for jealousy.

 

“Zhou Yi, how can you say such things without shame?”

 

Jiang Zhiluo leisurely set down her teacup, her voice dripping with icy disdain. “I’ll give you two choices.”

 

“Either break off your engagement with Ji Yongshu, or stop bothering me.”

 

Zhou Yi didn’t want either.

 

How could she possibly end things with Ji Yongshu?

 

Unless she wanted to forfeit her inheritance.

 

But Jiang Zhiluo’s stance was firm—if Zhou Yi refused to choose, she would never see her again.

 

To placate her, Zhou Yi reluctantly agreed, “Fine, I’ll call off the engagement with Ji Yongshu.”

 

She paused, then added, “But not right now.”

 

Jiang Zhiluo’s lips curved almost imperceptibly as she gave Zhou Yi a rare smile. “Fine. I’ll wait for that day.”

 

The day you, this scumbag, leave my sister.

 

Zhou Yi exhaled in relief. “Then you won’t reject me anymore, right?”

 

Jiang Zhiluo lifted her gaze. “That depends on your actions.”

 

Too elated to notice the indifference in her tone, Zhou Yi left in high spirits.

 

Only after she was gone did Jiang Zhiluo bend down and retrieve a small voice recorder from beneath the table.

 

She would make sure Ji Yongshu knew—Zhou Yi was no good.