After Differentiating into an Alpha, I Marked My Love Rival - Chapter 8

Ji Yongshu was genuinely quite hungry. She hadn’t eaten much for breakfast and had been holding out until now. Although she’d drunk a bottle of milk on the way here, it had already been digested by this point.

While Ji Yongshu had deliberately chosen this location, she had also reviewed the private kitchen’s menu beforehand. Most of today’s dishes happened to be her favorites.

Under the table, Ji Yongshu subtly rubbed her stomach, her gaze unconsciously drifting toward the door. Coincidentally, the waiter arrived with their dishes just then, the aroma of food filling the air. Ji Yongshu didn’t realize how her eyes had brightened slightly at the sight.

Jiang Zhiluo, sitting across from her, noticed this and couldn’t help curling her lips into a smile.

How adorable sister is.

Ji Yongshu intended to put Jiang Zhiluo in her place. After all the dishes were served, she reached out with her chopsticks and placed some greens in Jiang Zhiluo’s bowl.

“Try this.”

Jiang Zhiluo was pleasantly surprised, her eyes brimming with undisguised delight. Just as she was about to speak, Ji Yongshu added:

“Zhou Yi really likes this stir-fried lettuce.”

The smile immediately faded from Jiang Zhiluo’s face. Looking at the vibrant green lettuce in her bowl, she felt her own complexion must be turning equally green.

Ji Yongshu observed the change in her expression and nearly laughed aloud.

In truth, she had no idea what Zhou Yi liked to eat—they’d barely shared meals together, and she’d never paid attention to Zhou Yi’s preferences anyway.

Who cared what that scumbag alpha liked?

Jiang Zhiluo took several deep breaths before picking up her chopsticks and eating the lettuce. She didn’t dislike vegetables, but this was the first time they tasted so bitter, leaving her tongue numb.

Meanwhile, Ji Yongshu happily helped herself to several servings of her favorite dishes. The restaurant’s spare ribs were particularly good—maybe she’d come back with Meng Chuyu next time.

When Jiang Zhiluo looked up and saw Ji Yongshu quietly focused on her meal, she couldn’t suppress another smile.

Never mind. As long as sister is happy.

Since Ji Yongshu had served her first, Jiang Zhiluo reciprocated by using serving chopsticks to place a spare rib in Ji Yongshu’s bowl—she’d noticed how frequently Ji Yongshu had reached for that dish.

Ji Yongshu glanced at the sudden addition to her bowl, then wordlessly set down her chopsticks. After wiping her mouth with a napkin, she showed no intention of continuing.

“Aren’t you going to eat more?” Jiang Zhiluo asked, puzzled.

Ji Yongshu smiled. “One shouldn’t overeat.”

But you’ve barely had anything.

Before Jiang Zhiluo could voice this thought, she realized—Ji Yongshu wasn’t full; she simply refused to eat what Jiang Zhiluo had served.

Sister truly detests me deeply.

Jiang Zhiluo’s entire demeanor drooped. Though she remained silent, an aura of dejection radiated from her.

This reaction left Ji Yongshu bewildered. She’d meant to humiliate Jiang Zhiluo—shouldn’t the woman feel insulted? Why did Jiang Zhiluo instead resemble a puppy denied its owner’s affection, even her imaginary wagging tail now limp?

Ji Yongshu shook her head, thinking herself mad for likening Jiang Zhiluo to a dog.

Seeing that Ji Yongshu truly wouldn’t eat more, Jiang Zhiluo listlessly set down her own chopsticks. She turned to the man beside her. “You may leave first.”

The man said nothing, turning to leave and closing the door behind him.

Ji Yongshu watched her quietly as Jiang Zhiluo bit her lip and glanced at Xie Yangqing.

“Miss Ji, could you ask your secretary to step out as well?”

Ji Yongshu leaned back in her chair, smiling at her. “He won’t say anything out of turn.”

Xie Yangqing, hearing this, simply lowered his head and stood beside Ji Yongshu, pretending to neither hear nor see anything.

A faint blush rose on Jiang Zhiluo’s cheeks, her eyes shimmering with a hint of shyness. “I wanted to talk to you about that night.”

Ji Yongshu’s expression shifted. Xie Yangqing, still looking down, clearly saw his boss’s gently swaying legs freeze—her entire body seemed to stiffen.

That night? Which night?

Before Xie Yangqing could figure it out, Ji Yongshu spoke. “Yangqing, step outside for now.”

It seemed the upcoming conversation wasn’t meant for his ears.

Xie Yangqing was now even more certain—something had happened that he didn’t know about.

He left just as the man had, pulling the door shut behind him. The man was still waiting outside, unsurprised by his exit, not even lifting his head.

Only after the door closed again did Ji Yongshu shift her posture, her feet swaying slightly in the air as she folded her hands in her lap. “What did you want to say?”

Jiang Zhiluo didn’t answer. Instead, she suddenly stood and walked toward Ji Yongshu.

Ji Yongshu’s back stiffened, an inexplicable urge to flee surging through her.

She took a deep breath inwardly, reassuring herself: Don’t panic. You’re practically half an alpha now, and she’s an omega—she won’t do anything to you.

Fortunately, Jiang Zhiluo didn’t seem intent on anything. She simply sat beside Ji Yongshu, close enough that Ji Yongshu could catch a faint, delicate tea fragrance from her.

It didn’t smell like pheromones—more like perfume.

Who would wear a perfume that mimicked their own pheromones?

After all, in the eyes of most, pheromones were considered deeply private.

If someone asked another, I want to smell your pheromones, it would be seen as outright harassment.

Ji Yongshu, for one, avoided anything peach-scented.

Though lately, her own pheromones seemed to have changed slightly—shifting from a purely sweet peach fragrance to something more like a fruity liquor.

Amid the sugary peach aroma, there was now a subtle hint of alcohol, intoxicating if lingered on for too long.

Ji Yongshu couldn’t help but let her gaze settle on Jiang Zhiluo’s face. That night, she hadn’t gotten a proper look, but now she realized Jiang Zhiluo’s skin was truly flawless—porcelain-smooth, without a single visible pore.

Jiang Zhiluo wore light makeup, her brows finely drawn like two delicate willow leaves, perfectly framing her jade-like face with just the right balance of depth and softness.

Her lips held a natural, faint red hue, untouched by rouge or lipstick.

From the photos, Ji Yongshu had assumed she had a sweet, docile appearance. But seeing her in person, she realized Jiang Zhiluo carried an air of gentle composure.

Her features seemed meticulously crafted, pleasing to the eye. The refined tea scent lingering in the air somehow worked like a miracle, calming Ji Yongshu’s nerves.

This woman certainly had what it took to make Zhou Yi fall for her.

While Ji Yongshu was sizing up Jiang Zhiluo, Jiang Zhiluo was also gazing at her with infatuation.

In truth, she didn’t have much interaction with Ji Yongshu—it was just her one-sided affection that had lasted over two years.

The first time Jiang Zhiluo saw Ji Yongshu was at an art exhibition.

She had gone at a friend’s invitation, but in the middle of admiring the displays, someone bumped into her, knocking her handbag to the ground. The place was crowded, and before she knew it, someone had snatched it up.

The thief bolted, and Jiang Zhiluo, realizing her important documents were inside, immediately chased after him with her friend.

That day, she hadn’t brought any bodyguards. Two petite young women—how could they outrun a tall, long-legged man?

Though people around them shouted to catch the thief, the venue was noisy, and the commotion didn’t carry far. Those farther away had no idea what was happening.

Jiang Zhiluo was panting heavily, on the verge of giving up, when two security guards suddenly approached, dragging a man between them. “Miss, is this your bag?”

Jiang Zhiluo was stunned. “Yes, it’s mine. How did you—?”

One of the guards replied, “Our boss was here and happened to see this man steal from you.”

Following his gaze, Jiang Zhiluo spotted a woman in a tailored suit standing on the second floor, looking down at her from a distance.

Her expression was cool and detached, like snow that never melted, and those dark eyes swept over her briefly before she gave a polite nod and turned away.

Jiang Zhiluo thought Ji Yongshu probably hadn’t even gotten a clear look at her face.

Yet, she had remembered this woman ever since.

Fate worked in strange ways. Jiang Zhiluo had never believed in love at first sight before. She’d met plenty of attractive people, and many omegas had shown interest in her, but she’d never felt this kind of heartbeat before.

She had fallen for an omega.

It was only later, when she had someone investigate Ji Yongshu, that she learned she was an omega.

She had always assumed Ji Yongshu was a high-ranking alpha—her presence was so commanding that even alphas hesitated to speak in front of her.

But Jiang Zhiluo wasn’t disappointed. Ji Yongshu’s secondary gender didn’t matter. She loved the person, not the label.

She spent a long-time learning about Ji Yongshu, and the more she discovered, the more she realized just how extraordinary this omega was.

Yet, the more she saw of Ji Yongshu’s brilliance, the more she dared not approach her.

She knew the Ji family wanted Ji Yongshu to marry an alpha.

Because the vast Ji empire needed an heir.

But Jiang Zhiluo wasn’t an alpha—she was an omega too. She couldn’t give Ji Yongshu a child.

Omega-omega relationships were already difficult, let alone for someone of Ji Yongshu’s status and family.

For over two years, Jiang Zhiluo’s love remained hidden, her admiration silent. She followed Ji Yongshu to many places and even sent her gifts through indirect means.

But Ji Yongshu likely never knew they were from her.

Jiang Zhiluo didn’t know if Ji Yongshu could ever love an omega.

When she first fell for Ji Yongshu, she hadn’t even graduated from university yet.

Her father asked her, “You’re still young and don’t understand how difficult it is to be with an omega.”

“Putting everything else aside, how will you get through their heat cycles?”

Jiang Zhiluo had countless solutions to these problems, but her father simply looked at her and said, “Will her family accept an omega?”

Jiang Zhiluo didn’t know.

She was too timid—she hadn’t even taken the first step.

Her father gave her a deadline: “Give yourself three years.”

“If after three years you still like her, then go after her.”

How many three-year periods does a person have in life?

Jiang Zhiluo thought her father probably didn’t believe she could last three years.

She wanted to try, too.

But before those three years were up, Ji Yongshu got engaged to someone else.

Jiang Zhiluo calmly investigated that alpha and finally tossed the documents into the shredder.

To hell with three years—if she waited any longer, her beloved would belong to someone else!

If Ji Yongshu truly loved Zhou Yi, or if Zhou Yi was an alpha loyal to family and marriage, Jiang Zhiluo would have silently wished them well.

But neither was the case.

Ji Yongshu didn’t love Zhou Yi, and Zhou Yi was far from a good person.

So why should she stand by and watch Ji Yongshu end up with a scumbag alpha?

Jiang Zhiluo steeled her resolve—Zhou Yi wasn’t worthy at all!

Her sister was so wonderful; she deserved someone who genuinely loved her.

Someone like herself.

Jiang Zhiluo blushed slightly, gazing affectionately at the woman before her with only one thought in mind.

She would become Ji Yongshu’s wife.

Ji Yongshu felt a chill run down her spine under that gaze, as if a venomous snake had set its sights on her.

Clearing her throat, she asked, “Miss Jiang, what exactly happened that night?”

Jiang Zhiluo snapped out of her reverie, blinking rapidly. “I’m sorry, I went into heat that night. It was my own carelessness that caused trouble for you, Miss Ji.”

Trouble was an understatement.

A cold glint flashed in Ji Yongshu’s eyes. “You’re an intelligent woman, so I’ll be blunt.”

“You and Zhou Yi aren’t suited for each other.”