After the Top Idol Omega and I Started Living Together - Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Sunlight passed through the window, generously filling the room.

Floating strands of hair cast a hazy golden edge, unable to conceal the raised eyes, their gazes intertwining.

No distance existed.

One second, Lu Zhao still lingered in a gentle dream; the next second, she opened her eyes.

An Alpha’s vigilance was always strong, and Lu Zhao woke with some caution.

But then, Sheng Jingyu’s presence softened it.

As if startled by her sudden awakening, Lu Zhao saw ripples surge on Sheng Jingyu’s ever-calm face.

The body approaching her instinctively retreated slightly, and though anyone would have gasped at this, Lu Zhao’s ears heard only silence.

Time slowed amid the cicadas’ hum.

Light fell impartially on Sheng Jingyu’s face. Like yesterday, she wore her long hair loose, its softness carrying a hint of just-woken disarray. Her pupils shimmered faintly below, gray-silver like gemstones, almond-shaped and slightly upturned, with long, dense lashes fluttering like a deer straying into the woods.

Prey.

The air in the room hadn’t fully cleared, faintly entwined with the scent of grapes, ambiguous and elusive.

Lu Zhao moved her dry throat, restraining herself as she put some distance between her and Sheng Jingyu, reminding her, “Miss Sheng, do you know that it’s dangerous for an Omega to get so close to an Alpha?”

Lu Zhao’s voice was calm, but the scent she emitted wasn’t as approachable as usual.

Sheng Jingyu gazed at the person before her, her heart suddenly skipping a beat.

In her long past of not sensing pheromones, Sheng Jingyu had passed by every Alpha calmly.

She never felt the distinct sensation her friends described when an Omega faced an Alpha, but now, in Lu Zhao’s presence, she felt her Omega side.

She thought she now understood.

She knew this person was dangerous to her.

Yet she still wanted to get closer.

Sheng Jingyu’s pupils shifted slightly, and Lu Zhao saw it clearly, though she assumed her words had startled her. Her voice softened further, “Don’t do this in the future.”

Both scolding and reluctant to scold, Lu Zhao changed the topic and asked about Sheng Jingyu’s condition, “Miss Sheng, how do you feel now? Any discomfort?”

The eyes that had just woken were pure, clear, and untainted.

No one could bear to deceive such a person, yet such a person was easy to deceive.

Sheng Jingyu looked at Lu Zhao, thinking herself despicable.

She didn’t want Lu Zhao, but the scent on her.

Something seemed to settle in Sheng Jingyu’s heart. She lowered her eyes, shook her head, and gestured to Lu Zhao, “Thank you for your help last night, Miss Lu. Shall we go downstairs for lunch?”

“It’s already noon?” Lu Zhao said with some surprise.

Then, as if recalling something, she said to Sheng Jingyu, “I have a gift I want to give you, Miss Sheng. You can have it as a dessert after lunch.”

Sheng Jingyu paused at her words.

She vaguely remembered Lu Zhao holding something when she opened the door yesterday.

Gift-giving often involved too much effort and meaningless social interactions.

Sheng Jingyu didn’t like receiving gifts and didn’t understand why Lu Zhao wanted to give her one. She gestured, “Why do you want to give me a gift, Miss Lu?”

“To thank you for your guidance,” Lu Zhao said earnestly. “Because of your advice, my recording yesterday went smoothly, the first time in years it went so well.”

Sheng Jingyu showed no change at her words, only saying, “It was a small effort, Miss Lu. No need for special thanks.”

Unlike the enthusiasm in Lu Zhao’s voice, Sheng Jingyu’s gestures were silent.

A faint breeze slid between her arms, stirring a wisp of coolness, her words carrying distance.

She thought it best if neither owed the other.

She thought it best if they were just ordinary roommates.

Lu Zhao sensed Sheng Jingyu’s rejection, her eyes dimming briefly.

But then, as if catching some detail, she said to Sheng Jingyu, “But since you invited me to eat downstairs, let’s go and try the cake. That shop’s cake is especially delicious. You’ll regret not trying it, Miss Sheng.”

Lu Zhao stood up from the sofa, her amber eyes landing squarely on Sheng Jingyu’s.

Bright and radiant.

Yet also sly and sophistic.

For a moment, Sheng Jingyu couldn’t tell if Lu Zhao had noticed her earlier stolen glance and was playing along.

Or if she genuinely just wanted her to try the cake and share the joy.

Sheng Jingyu found herself trapped by her own words.

It seemed one shouldn’t lie.

Nor be driven by one’s desires.

Lu Zhao opened the room’s door, and a breeze swept in.

The flowing air stirred the lingering scent in the room. Watching Lu Zhao rise, Sheng Jingyu’s mind flashed to last night’s scene.

Her hand had almost touched this person’s neck…

A lychee fell into the rippling sea. What would the peeled fruit taste like?

Descending the stairs, Lu Zhao didn’t notice the complex gaze cast from behind.

She quickly reached the kitchen, taking a small cake from the fridge that she’d placed there last night.

“This is from the cake shop I often visit. Their cakes are low in calories but not bland at all. When a few of us are craving something, we buy one. One bite doubles the happiness!”

Lu Zhao carefully unwrapped the packaging, sharing and recommending something she liked to Sheng Jingyu.

Her words were light, her self-mocking manner carefree, exuding a vibrant generosity.

Sheng Jingyu rarely saw such people.

Perhaps because of yesterday, she inexplicably didn’t want to dampen Lu Zhao’s enthusiasm now.

The delicate cake sat elegantly on a tray. Sheng Jingyu picked up a spoon from the side.

The warm air mixed with the coolness from the fridge, turning white, the cake glowing with a faint pale pink under the light.

Sheng Jingyu didn’t mind the color. She took a small bite, and her expression paused.

A faint coolness entered her mouth with the cake, the condensed sweetness melting into a burst of mixed fruit fragrance.

You couldn’t tell what flavor touched your taste buds at that moment—honeyed, refreshing, not cloying, melting instantly in the mouth, spreading quickly across the tongue.

Was it peach, lime?

Or lychee.

The flavor was too delicate; Lu Zhao never bothered to distinguish it when she ate.

She watched Sheng Jingyu’s movements, asking eagerly, “Is it good?”

The eager voice landed by her ear, and Sheng Jingyu’s gaze paused.

The heat that had subsided last night stirred restlessly, the flavor in her mouth suddenly intensifying.

For a moment, Sheng Jingyu couldn’t tell if her racing heart was from nervousness at Lu Zhao’s question or the taste lingering on her tongue.

For the first time, she realized it wasn’t just pheromones that could make one’s ears flush with sensitivity.

A similar taste could do the same.

The questioner still awaited her answer.

Lightly pressing her tongue, Sheng Jingyu discreetly set down the spoon, giving a measured response, “It’s not bad, not too sweet.”

Her gestures were natural, her expression showing no anomaly. Lu Zhao had no chance to notice the slightly reddened earlobe hidden behind her long hair, only deducing her eating habits from her words, “So you don’t like sweets.”

Seeing she’d fooled Lu Zhao, Sheng Jingyu relaxed for a moment.

She nodded faintly, saying, “Sweets aren’t good for the throat.”

The statement seemed ordinary; Lu Zhao usually watched her intake too.

But on Sheng Jingyu, it felt silencing.

Sheng Jingyu cherished her voice.

Yet she had lost it.

Lu Zhao sank briefly, saying, “It’s not just the throat. Too many sweets can cause cavities, weight gain, and diseases. For health, eating less is right.”

A clean breeze blew through the window, odorless yet seeming to carry some scent.

The listed examples were like seawater rushing ashore, diluting the meaning of her saying she didn’t eat sweets.

Sheng Jingyu listened, understanding Lu Zhao’s intent.

Truthfully, losing her voice didn’t bring her much grief.

It was just her life; she’d known since childhood this day would come.

She didn’t care, but others did, consoling her, “You don’t need to live that dull life to protect your voice anymore. You can eat these things now. You’re free, Jingyu.”

Sheng Jingyu knew they meant no harm and would nod politely at such words.

But she’d turn and toss that “freedom” into the trash.

If she abandoned her past, what would remain?

Sheng Jingyu disliked these words and thought Lu Zhao would say the same.

But today, this person gave her a different perspective.

Lu Zhao didn’t ask her to change.

Instead, she offered another excuse, letting her continue being herself without stirring memories.

For the second time recently, the thought crossed Sheng Jingyu’s mind.

This Alpha before her seemed truly different from others.

The breeze rustled through the pavilion, light spilling into Sheng Jingyu’s eyes.

Though she wasn’t saddened by memories or redefining habits, she acknowledged the comforting words for the first time, “Yes, indeed.”

A faint distance seemed to vanish, and Lu Zhao’s eyes curved.

.

The sound of instruments hummed slowly in the room, incandescent light meticulously outlining the person lying below.

The overly empty room carried the scent of disinfectant, gently settling on the bare collarbone and neck before a coat covered it.

Sheng Jingyu sat up unhurriedly from the testing equipment, satin ribbons of her dress cascading down her legs.

In the flowing light, her slender, straight legs crossed, faintly tracing a balanced line.

Cheng Xin checked the results in the outer consultation room, her eyes fixing momentarily as she looked up.

Sheng Jingyu casually adjusted her long hair pressed under the coat, the incandescent light casting a gentle, beautiful hue on her face, though she was usually calm, aloof, and world-weary.

This was an Omega one wanted to reach out and save.

The thought flashed through Cheng Xin’s mind. Seeing Sheng Jingyu approach, she resumed her professional demeanor, “The results show your body has no issues.”

“Yesterday’s fever wasn’t a gland problem but a normal Omega physiological cycle,” Cheng Xin analyzed for Sheng Jingyu. “Your body, influenced by this Alpha’s pheromones, is gradually cycling like a normal Omega.”

“It seems your Alpha roommate is quite the gentleman, not taking advantage,” Cheng Xin teased with a sigh.

The scent of alcohol always held some similarity, and her words stirred a resonance with a memory’s scent.

A slender arm quietly rested on a shoulder, warm breath lingering on Sheng Jingyu’s lips, her lost eyes reflecting Lu Zhao’s surprised face.

Indeed, Lu Zhao hadn’t taken advantage.

The one who nearly did was herself.

Fragmented memories came at an inopportune time, and Sheng Jingyu’s gaze paused.

Her expression remained unchanged, cool and restrained, nodding to Cheng Xin.

She didn’t reveal the ambiguous memory.

Nor did she show any joy at her condition improving.

Honestly, after all these years, Cheng Xin still couldn’t fathom Sheng Jingyu’s thoughts.

The result was good, yet this person’s face showed no joy. Cheng Xin didn’t know what could change her expression.

Unable to read her, Cheng Xin sighed.

As Sheng Jingyu’s friend and doctor, she took out her phone to send the usual precautions.

But this time, the words at Sheng Jingyu’s ear weren’t the familiar advice.

Holding her phone, Cheng Xin’s voice carried surprise, “Jingyu, it seems your Alpha roommate has gotten into trouble.”