After the Top Idol Omega and I Started Living Together - Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Green lushness crowdedly covered the frosted glass, tightly shielding this space.

Water flowed continuously, and the pool rippled layer upon layer, as if it were a restless sea surface.

As the susceptible period approached, an Alpha’s emotions became more easily provoked.

The earlier confrontation and the blazing sun pushed Lu Zhao’s physical condition close to the susceptible period’s threshold. Collapse came quickly, like a volcanic eruption, fiercely arriving overnight, with bl00d rushing like magma in her body.

Cold floor tiles pressed against Lu Zhao’s legs, yet her body temperature rose degree by degree.

Sweat slid down her forehead, and cicadas screeched sharply from the treetops.

Lu Zhao’s thoughts were completely interrupted by the sudden onset of her susceptible period. She heard approaching footsteps but couldn’t discern who was behind the door.

Was it Chenchen…

Or Sheng Jingyu…

But no matter who it was, Lu Zhao knew her current state was unsuitable for direct contact.

The susceptible period made an Alpha’s sensitivity to the outside world skyrocket. The higher the rank, the more sensitive they became, even showing intense hostility toward their own kind, let alone an Omega, who naturally attracted Alphas.

It would be best to lock the door and have the person outside pass her a suppressant.

Lu Zhao thought with her dwindling rationality, attempting to stand from the floor.

But she lacked strength, her boiling bl00d crashing against her bones and muscles.

Lu Zhao propped herself up with her arms, trembling faintly, appearing utterly powerless.

“Squeak—”

Lu Zhao’s attention focused entirely on her struggle, unaware that the approaching footsteps had already stopped.

They stopped at this door.

Light squeezed through the opened door crack, dazzling and brilliant, falling into Lu Zhao’s line of sight.

She looked up dazedly toward the door and saw a familiar figure standing in the interplay of light and shadow.

Sheng Jingyu’s hand rested on the doorknob, her simple skirt fluttering with the hot air surging from the room.

Her gray-silver eyes remained calm as always, yet a trace of confusion flickered in them for a moment.

Sheng Jingyu had come out upon hearing someone return.

She was more vigilant than anyone but less guarded than ever.

The sea breeze roared past, and the scorching air carried the vibrant scent of lychees.

Sheng Jingyu’s throat involuntarily moved, her hand on the doorknob tightening suddenly.

Then she heard Lu Zhao’s strained voice say to her, “Leave quickly, my susceptible period has come.”

That voice lost its usual lively vigor, heavy with swollen heat.

Sheng Jingyu almost instinctively chose to avoid the risk and obey, but she suddenly realized something, her steps halting, “Do you have a suppressant here?”

Lu Zhao’s thoughts froze. She stared at her arms propped on the floor for a while before finally shaking her head, “No, there is…”

“The suppressant is in the bedroom?” Sheng Jingyu tapped her phone.

The mechanical female voice sounded utterly calm, but her typing hands were not steady.

The sea breeze grew fiercer, her fingers gripping the phone tightly, restrainedly waiting for Lu Zhao’s response.

She saw Lu Zhao kneeling on one knee, the pale back of her hand showing raised veins.

Time passed excruciatingly slowly, and after what felt like centuries, Lu Zhao finally nodded to Sheng Jingyu, “Hmm…”

Sheng Jingyu quickly said, “Wait for me.”

But the word “wait” felt endlessly long.

The open door made the narrow space less confining, and sunlight scattered over Lu Zhao’s kneeling legs.

The circulating air didn’t ease her discomfort. The heated light, pushed by the wind, burned her skin, her excessive sensitivity trembling along her nerves, every part aching.

Lu Zhao had experienced susceptible periods before, but never had one felt as unbearable as today.

Time moved without measure, and she had no sense of how long had passed. The already fragile sense of safety peeled away from her layer by layer.

Her heart pounded heavily, and her pheromones wreaked havoc.

Lu Zhao desperately wanted to escape this unbalanced feeling.

Desire crept into her rationality.

She didn’t just want a suppressant; she craved an Omega’s pheromones.

This thought surged unprecedentedly in Lu Zhao’s mind, seizing her rationality inch by inch.

At that moment, a mechanical female voice rang out timely above Lu Zhao’s head, “Lu Zhao, suppressant.”

Five simple words.

Lu Zhao heavily raised her head and saw Sheng Jingyu holding a suppressant, standing at the door.

Her tall figure blocked the light streaming through the doorway, faintly outlining in Lu Zhao’s vision.

This person was an Omega.

As a reminder, this thought flashed through Lu Zhao’s mind.

She sat on the floor, weak and despicable, her powerless hand almost beckoning Sheng Jingyu to come closer.

Closer.

If she could just grasp her wrist…

Her amber eyes hid in the light, and Lu Zhao’s gaze on Sheng Jingyu was like that of a predator eyeing prey.

She wanted to call her over, but her rationality restrained her.

“Put, put it on the floor…”

With effort, Lu Zhao slightly curled her outstretched hand toward Sheng Jingyu, redirecting it to point at the floor.

To ensure absolute purity, most suppressants on the market used glass syringes.

Lu Zhao’s suppressant in the bedroom was the same.

Sheng Jingyu looked at Lu Zhao, barely able to sit up, and couldn’t help but worry whether she could hold the suppressant steady enough to inject it.

Glass was too fragile. A shattered syringe would be a minor issue, but fine shards cutting the skin and embedding in a wound would be more troublesome.

Sheng Jingyu hadn’t expected her defective gland could allow her to bypass many limitations.

She thought since her pheromones were too weak to affect an Alpha, she could safely help Lu Zhao inject the suppressant and repay the favor from last time.

There would be no problem.

At the bar, if Lu Zhao hadn’t noticed the suppressant patch on her neck, wouldn’t she have failed to recognize her Omega identity code?

To Sheng Jingyu, everything seemed like a balanced transaction. She calmly gripped the suppressant and stepped forward.

But her lowered arm bore a subtle red mark, vividly indicating artificial restraint.

When she opened the fridge in Lu Zhao’s room to retrieve the suppressant, Sheng Jingyu had injected herself with one too.

It was as if she anticipated Lu Zhao’s state would prevent her from self-administering and feared losing control herself.

Losing control to that scent.

Water splashed against the porcelain basin, scattering onto Lu Zhao’s arm. She waited with her hand lowered for a long time, then heard the mechanical female voice and footsteps together, “I’ll help you inject.”

Those emotionless words made Lu Zhao raise her head.

The footsteps tapped on the tiles, resonating clearly in the chaos.

Sheng Jingyu walked into Lu Zhao’s chaotic gaze against the light, pushing away the heat, as if she were her savior.

Was she really about to be saved…

Her pale knees half-knelt on the cold tiles.

Sheng Jingyu unhurriedly approached Lu Zhao’s side, the sea breeze enveloping her. She remained unaffected by the wind, her fingers deftly unbuttoning Lu Zhao’s shirt cuff.

Everything seemed to be calming perfectly.

But sudden calm on the sea was never a good sign, only a prelude to a storm.

Clouds piled layer upon layer in the sky, heavily suppressing the summer’s searing heat.

Sheng Jingyu’s shadow loomed over Lu Zhao’s head. She realized she wasn’t struggling alone, barely drawing oxygen from the scorching heat.

The breeze passed through the hair of the person beside her, landing on Lu Zhao’s nose.

The air wasn’t monotonous; the tartness of unripe grapes and the bitterness of wormwood liquor flooded Lu Zhao’s nostrils, a complex scent faint yet distinct.

Thump, thump.

Lu Zhao’s barely calmed heart began to pound restlessly again. She saw grapevines sprawling across her heart’s wilderness.

The sprawling grape leaves seemed to suppress her body’s restlessness, but the liquor poured along the vines into the raging flames.

Lu Zhao caught the scent of Omega pheromones near Sheng Jingyu’s neck.

The scent she had desperately craved when alone.

Sheng Jingyu didn’t notice her own vulnerability, still kneeling beside her, preparing.

Her long hair fell over her neck as she lowered her head, the delicate strap tracing a graceful arc between her neck and shoulder, her dark hair contrasting with her snow-white skin.

The moment the needle was about to pierce Lu Zhao’s arm, her hand, resting on the floor, suddenly rose.

Before Sheng Jingyu could react, Lu Zhao abruptly pinned her to the ground.

The glass syringe shattered with a crisp sound in Sheng Jingyu’s ears. Her fingers grasped at the fleeting coldness, the liquid slipping through her fingers, staining Lu Zhao’s knuckles as she gripped her wrist.

A storm seemed to loom heavily.

Clouds absorbed moisture, rekindling the heat, filling the narrow space with restless warmth.

The tiles were cold.

Pressing against Sheng Jingyu’s lower back, the chill climbed her spine, colliding with the hand gripping her palm, making her calm body tremble uncontrollably.

Their eyes met, and Lu Zhao’s shadow from above blocked the ceiling light.

Her amber eyes burned like fire in Sheng Jingyu’s gaze, her scent the slyest and fiercest invader.

The sea waves, carried by the wind, swirled into a vortex on the horizon, with Sheng Jingyu at its center.

The wind swept lychees into her mouth, and the walls built by her earlier suppressant injection crumbled with a single touch.

An Alpha’s pheromones in the susceptible period were sharp, their potent scent making Sheng Jingyu feel the air was thin. Yet the lychees were sweet, brushing her cold lips, faintly tinting them pink.

Sheng Jingyu’s pupils trembled, her calm breathing unable to resist the heavy fate encroaching.

An Omega couldn’t resist an Alpha’s strength, especially one in a susceptible period, nearly beast-like.

Lu Zhao gazed at the person she controlled, her scattered hair framing a coldly beautiful face. Sheng Jingyu’s gray-silver eyes reflected the tiles’ cool light, clear and pure, like unmelting mountain snow.

So she wanted to taste the snow’s melting flavor.

A drop of wormwood liquor fell into Lu Zhao’s mind, the curling grapevines snapping her last thread of rationality.

She despicably thought, last time Sheng Jingyu was the one unclear, so she couldn’t act. But now, with her own mind clouded, could she claim this scent for herself?

Unprecedentedly, Lu Zhao’s susceptible period spiraled out of control, her entire being a chaotic mess.

She didn’t know what magic this scent’s liquor held, but she craved it.

The sea breeze carried grapes, and someone said fruit with salt tasted sweeter.

Others said in moments of loss, the mind’s purest commands surfaced.

Overheated air passed through Sheng Jingyu’s hair. She felt something soft and damp brushing toward her.

It seemed harmless but brought a sharp, rapid sting to her neck.

Sheng Jingyu’s eyes widened suddenly. She saw a mischievous smile spread from the corner of this person’s mouth.

“Got it.”

Lu Zhao said with a sly smile, slowly sitting up.

Sheng Jingyu’s eyes flickered with confusion, then a white patch suddenly appeared in her vision, fluttering with Lu Zhao’s fingers.

What Lu Zhao “got” was her suppressant patch!

This person had reached over and peeled off her suppressant patch!

Sheng Jingyu slightly opened her mouth, as if silently calling Lu Zhao’s name.

But Lu Zhao didn’t notice, instead twirling the patch and saying to Sheng Jingyu, “Teacher, want to make a trade? I give you my pheromones, you give me yours.”

She seemed delirious, yet knew the person before her was her teacher.

But if she was lucid, her words were ambiguously unbearable.

Her loose hair draped over her slim shoulders, sweat-soaked and languid, falling on her slightly raised neck.

Her voice, naturally magnetic, was deliberately lowered, filled with seductive allure, her fingertips shimmering with fragmented light under the lamp.

Clear or not, Lu Zhao’s rationality had long snapped.

Her uncontrollable susceptible period intensified, the patch on her neck thoroughly soaked.

The sea surged, peeled lychees carrying sweet fruitiness.

It too wanted to know the taste of grapes.

Heat rose in white mist, burying rationality bit by bit in the seawater.

Sheng Jingyu never thought she’d actively crave anything; her world was always filled with calm tones.

But Lu Zhao’s scorching pheromones hit her nose, and raw, primal thoughts kept her from wanting to break free of the hand gripping her wrist.

Her pupils grew lost, the clear gray-silver turning increasingly chaotic.

Sheng Jingyu felt drunk, her mind clouded yet acutely aware of Lu Zhao pressing her neck, her breath drawing near.

Rationality shattered by the sea breeze, chaos urged its master to give in to this scent and abandon resistance.

So Sheng Jingyu didn’t resist.

Exchanging scents with this Alpha didn’t seem wrong, especially since she needed this scent.

Calm rationality became an accomplice to indulgence.

Summer’s warm air layered in the space, Lu Zhao’s hand resting on Sheng Jingyu’s waist, her jaw raised due to their height difference under the light.

Ambiguity peaked.

Even without an answer, it was already written on paper.

But Lu Zhao wasn’t satisfied with the silence. Leaning close to Sheng Jingyu, she asked, “Why don’t you speak?”

“Why doesn’t Teacher respond to me?”

The searing heat was like flames over paper, burning it to the brink.

Lu Zhao’s words weren’t obsessive questions but an inner query about something unknown, her mind occupied by some memory.

“Am I just not worth it?”

The hand holding Sheng Jingyu’s wrist wasn’t forceful, the raised veins controlling its strength.

She used no coercion, only stubborn persistence, as if chasing a vital answer, relentlessly demanding a direct response.

But Sheng Jingyu was destined to give Lu Zhao no answer.

Cold wind brushed her waist along the tiles, cruelly driving out the warmth that had just enveloped her.

The fluorescent light cast their shadows on the wall, their gazes ambiguously cruel.

The sea breeze swept them, tossing them into their respective fated swamps.

“Ah Zhao! Just now, Chen Idiot came asking about Miss Sheng. How did they know you have a vocal teach…”

A sudden voice came frantically from the door. Chenchen’s voice appeared, then stopped abruptly.

She realized the room’s scent was off—not from her over-sprayed blocker perfume but from the pheromones of these two.

The light met the window’s sunlight at a point, and Chenchen saw Lu Zhao and Sheng Jingyu with their fingers interlocked.

What was happening?

Weren’t they an Alpha and an Omega?

Chenchen’s mind filled with countless question marks, then, as if realizing something, they turned to exclamation marks.

She stammered, wishing to flee, “I-I-I-I…”

“Get out!”

Before Chenchen finished, Lu Zhao hurled a single, ferocious word.

She froze, her chaotic thoughts dissipating.

Even if she interrupted something, Ah Zhao wouldn’t act like this.

Chenchen didn’t “get out.” Instead, she stood firm, looking into the bathroom.

The light reflected scattered fragments, like shards of something.

A suppressant?

“Ah Zhao, are you in your susceptible period?” Chenchen exclaimed.

“I’m not!” Lu Zhao denied, her amber eyes filled with hostility.

An Alpha in their susceptible period was far more hostile to their kind.

Perhaps Lu Zhao recalled a past where her nest was stolen. Though Chenchen’s interruption wasn’t pleasant, Lu Zhao stood, shielding Sheng Jingyu behind her.

That was her Omega; she couldn’t let this Alpha take her.

No one knew what nightmare the susceptible period dragged Lu Zhao into. Her eyes brimmed with violence, wary of the Alpha before her, “Get away from me, you hear? This isn’t your place.”

Chenchen stood bewildered, overwhelmed by the sea breeze pressing her down, “Ah Zhao, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t need you!” Lu Zhao responded shakily, her strained arms showing effort.

Unlike the body’s undeniable instincts, Sheng Jingyu gradually regained clarity during their confrontation.

The chaotic indulgence and harsh reality were suppressed by her awakening mind. She calmly, restrainedly shifted her gaze and attention from Lu Zhao’s protective back, her fingertips digging into her palm.

It wasn’t just that scent that nearly made her break her restraint.

“Ah Zhao, calm down…”

Chenchen’s anxious voice reached Sheng Jingyu’s ears again.

And in Sheng Jingyu’s mind, a second prohibition arose.

—She couldn’t let Lu Zhao hurt her friend while irrational.

—When she sobered, she’d regret it.

For the first time, Sheng Jingyu stepped out of her isolation to consider another.

The sea breeze was sharp, and Lu Zhao warily watched Chenchen.

She seemed to seek a chance to drive this intruding Alpha from her territory. But suddenly, a pair of hands covered her eyes.

Darkness was more unsettling than chaos, and Lu Zhao was no exception.

Before she could struggle, she caught a familiar scent, light and warm, pressing against her back—a pure, pristine scent.

The grapevines hooked her heart, not seductive but comforting, like summer shade.

The surroundings were hot, with heavy breaths brushing her ear, gently landing on her restless neck.

No sound; the world was quiet.

The wild beast rampaging in Lu Zhao’s body crashed into the grapevines, the dangling grapes brushing its fur.

The fear of being invaded and possessed was instantly soothed.

Lu Zhao felt herself firmly embraced, chosen with unwavering resolve.

She wouldn’t be taken.

Nor abandoned.

Trembling, Sheng Jingyu suddenly felt a dampness in her palm.

She thought she’d misjudged for a moment.

“Miss Sheng, suppressant.”

Chenchen, amazed at Sheng Jingyu’s swift control, pulled a spare suppressant from her bag, cautiously signaling to avoid startling Lu Zhao.

The riot calmed, the beast sleeping under grapevines laden with fruit.

Lu Zhao sank into the gentle quiet, a sting in her arm.

Sheng Jingyu moved deftly, taking the suppressant Chenchen rolled over and injecting it into Lu Zhao’s arm.

The cold liquid fully entered her veins, and the hand shielding her eyes was removed.

Exhaustion surged from all directions, and as she teetered, she saw Sheng Jingyu’s face in the final second before closing her eyes.

Sheng Jingyu was as calm as ever, her gray-silver eyes reflecting the purity Lu Zhao felt in the darkness.

Her crumbling rationality flickered back.

It was Teacher…

She really waited for me at home…

The grape scent lingered in her throat, bittersweet and soothing.

Heavily, Lu Zhao closed her eyes, reassured and weary, collapsing into Sheng Jingyu’s arms.

Like when Sheng Jingyu fell toward her last time.

The rain outside finally fell, pattering against the windows, not chaotic.

The room’s quiet returned to a gentle atmosphere. Chenchen looked at the sleeping Lu Zhao, her heart easing.

She sighed in relief, politely apologizing to Sheng Jingyu, “Sorry for troubling you again, Miss Sheng.”

But Sheng Jingyu shook her head.

She lowered her eyes to Lu Zhao, asleep on her shoulder, feeling no trouble, only an indescribable sensation.

Chenchen approached to carry the unconscious Lu Zhao to her room but couldn’t lift her.

Not for lack of strength, but because Lu Zhao’s dangling hand clung tightly to Sheng Jingyu’s, unconsciously refusing to let go.

Chenchen fretted, “What do we do?”

This time, Sheng Jingyu didn’t pull her hand away indifferently. She silently mouthed and gestured to Chenchen, “I’ll do it.”

Sheng Jingyu moved lightly, appearing frail yet steadily carrying Lu Zhao.

Chenchen watched, astonished, then followed Sheng Jingyu’s long strides upstairs.

Compared to the cramped bathroom, Lu Zhao’s room was far more spacious.

The open window let in the afternoon’s hot breeze, the air free of excess scents.

Chenchen helped Sheng Jingyu settle Lu Zhao. Seeing her hand still clinging, she sheepishly spoke for Lu Zhao, “Sorry for making you sit here, Miss Sheng. Ah Zhao’s susceptible periods were never like this. It must be her grandma’s birthday today, plus my sudden Alpha presence, that triggered her.”

“Miss Sheng, just wait a bit. She’ll let go soon, don’t worry.”

Sheng Jingyu sat by the bed, her back straight.

She noted Chenchen’s words but remained distant, nodding and typing with one hand, “Go handle your things. I’ll call if needed.”

“Sure!” Chenchen nodded eagerly, promising, “Miss Sheng, don’t worry. If my phone rings, I’ll come up immediately.”

As the door closed, Lu Zhao’s bedroom became a private space.

Sheng Jingyu sat, her gray-silver eyes calmly and deeply watching the sleeping figure.

Lu Zhao slept, her body wracked by the susceptible period’s chaos, utterly exhausted.

She lay on the pillow, her small face framed by loose hair, no longer wild but inexplicably docile.

Like a ferocious beast reverting to harmlessness.

Her shallow breaths rose and fell, the source of her reckless pheromone release hidden under her hair.

Yet the lingering seawater scent spread faintly with the breeze, no longer aggressive, softly lingering in the room.

Sheng Jingyu calmly, discreetly shifted her gaze from Lu Zhao.

She had nearly—or perhaps already—accepted Lu Zhao’s proposal.

Exchanging pheromones meant temporary marking.

Cheng Xin had mentioned and dismissed this act to Sheng Jingyu.

She never thought temporary marking would allure her.

But without Chenchen’s interruption, she might have succumbed to Lu Zhao’s seduction, marked temporarily.

Could her gland even accept a temporary mark now?

She could smell Omega scents normally, but she wasn’t a normal Omega.

Sunlight slanted into the room, casting her shadow straight as bamboo, proud and unyielding.

Sheng Jingyu calmly, haltingly raised her hand, her fingertips brushing the hair falling over her neck.

Her gaze darkened.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her hand.

Her sinking thoughts snapped back. Wincing, she followed the pain and saw Lu Zhao’s brow furrowed, looking anguished.

Her exposed arm lacked reassurance, faintly clutching the thin blanket, as if trapped in an inescapable nightmare.

The room was quiet, only the air stirring uneasily.

Lu Zhao remained silent, her eyes tinged with red, her tightly bitten lip showing stubborn defiance, as if resisting someone.

Sheng Jingyu realized belatedly that the dampness in her palm wasn’t an illusion.

Lu Zhao was crying.

Why was she crying?

Sheng Jingyu didn’t know her past and rarely pried into others.

But her mind couldn’t help questioning.

If Lu Zhao’s pursuit of her was a normal Alpha response in the susceptible period, why did she react so violently to Chenchen’s arrival?

Her aggression, as if fearing something being taken, wasn’t typical for a susceptible Alpha. It seemed like a reflex from a psychological wound.

Lu Zhao bore a deep scar, etched into her bones.

She seemed bound to this house, entangled, unable to leave.

Chenchen had mentioned her grandma when excusing her.

So, when Lu Zhao visited the grave at noon, did something happen?

Sheng Jingyu’s brows furrowed slightly, her gaze lingering on Lu Zhao.

She felt her hand gripped tighter. It was hard to imagine someone who withstood public scrutiny could be trapped in a dream.

The summer sun blazed, yet no one thought it could dim.

Sheng Jingyu, used to solitude, never comforted others.

She wondered if she should do something for Lu Zhao but didn’t know what. So she sat, as calm and quiet as the breeze outside.

Since she’d entered Lu Zhao’s nightmare, she’d wait with her until it passed.

Lu Zhao slept poorly, dreaming of the past.

Perhaps clinging to the beauty before it shattered, she saw through the dream’s mist Lu Xu dancing with Qin Xiyue under the moonlight.

The small hall’s bay window framed a beautiful moonlit scene, their skirts swaying in the breeze, their interlocked fingers brimming with love.

Lu Zhao hid behind the stairs, her eyes full of longing.

Then Qin Xi keenly noticed her, smiling gently and beckoning, “Little Zhao, want to dance with Mother?”

“Hmm.”

Even in a dream, Lu Zhao nodded again.

The piano’s beautiful notes flowed under Qin Xi’s hands, dreamlike and enchanting.

She played masterfully since childhood, and Lu Zhao learned piano from her.

Her dance, however, was honed under Lu Xu’s guidance.

“Little Zhao.” Under Qin Xi’s accompaniment, Lu Xu took Lu Zhao’s hand.

Her smile remained warm and loving, and Lu Zhao looked up, dazed.

The dream grew turbulent, the piano’s sound twisting. Lu Zhao danced lightly with Lu Xu, then turned to face Si Yuyun and Si Liaoliao.

Her gaze shifted from looking up to level.

Her small frame grew into a tall Alpha.

The beauty shattered.

In the new house, Si Yuyun moved into a prepared bedroom, and broken arguments echoed from the study.

Lu Zhao stood on the stairs, listening. Si Liaoliao walked down the corridor, smiling with a host’s demeanor, “We meet again, Classmate Lu. We’ll not only study in the same class but live together.”

Many things had foreshadowed this past.

Lu Zhao looked at Si Liaoliao’s familiar classroom smile, feeling only disgust.

Before she could retort, Qin Xi’s voice interrupted as she stormed out, “Let’s go, Little Zhao.”

Lu Zhao’s hand was gripped tightly by Qin Xi, and the world behind her began to crumble.

Desperately fleeing the turmoil, Lu Zhao’s steps quickened, but Qin Xi couldn’t keep up.

Coughing sounds rose, the breaths beside her laced with broken wind.

Lu Zhao turned, frantically trying to hold her mother’s hand, but no matter how she reached, Qin Xi slipped over the collapsing edge.

Lu Zhao’s mother held on, passing away after her eighteenth birthday.

It was a snowy night, the world blanketed in white. Qin Xi, born proud, came and went cleanly.

“Little Zhao, since Little Xi passed, this big house is empty. You’re rarely here, so let Mother manage it.”

“Come back with me. If your mother knew you were messing around, she’d leave uneasy.”

“What more do you want? Inherit the company, play music however you like, I won’t stop you. Don’t think pursuing your dreams as a livelihood is good. It’ll only make you resent it.”

Countless voices piled in Lu Zhao’s ears, defeating and negating her. The already crumbling world collapsed further.

Images of Lu Xu and Si Yuyun’s happy family flashed around her. Lu Zhao didn’t want these loathed things to consume her. Carrying Qin Xi’s share, she ran desperately.

“Little Zhao, live well… for your dreams…”

Live.

Dreams.

Tears filled Lu Zhao’s eyes, her amber gaze like shattered glass.

She didn’t want to fail Qin Xi’s hopes, nor could she.

After running endlessly, Lu Zhao had no strength left.

The blazing sun scorched, and as she ran parched, near death, she saw grapevines weaving a canopy above.

“Miss Lu, this is Madam Lu’s will, to be announced when Miss Lu Zhao comes of age. Madam Lu’s mansion and all its assets go to her only direct granddaughter, Lu Zhao. Madam Lu never acknowledged Miss Si Liaoliao’s identity.”

“Congratulations, Lu Zhao, for becoming the seventh member of received seven!”

“Miss Lu, good news. A lady intends to rent your old mansion and agrees to your terms!”

“I’ll be Miss Lu’s future resource, how about it?”

Different voices sounded in her ears, rare good news in this collapsing world.

The scorching sun blanketed a burning desert, but the vine-covered trellis blocked the surging heat.

It had been so long since Lu Zhao found a safe haven.

Green vines bore plump, juicy grapes.

Lu Zhao reached out, cradling a cluster of grapes, their sweet aroma filling her mouth, though a bitter note lingered at the core, dry on her tongue.

But it didn’t matter.

Lu Zhao didn’t need much sweetness. Wormwood liquor, with its cool touch, slid down her throat, like melted mountain snow, unforgettable, worth holding onto.

She’d felt this scent before.

Her thoughts didn’t clear before sinking into sleep.

Lu Zhao didn’t know how long she slept, only that the room was dark when she woke, rain pattering against the glass outside.

The bedside lamp glowed faintly, illuminating the room.

Lu Zhao’s thoughts were sluggish, unable to recall what happened.

“Awake?”

Still dazed, Lu Zhao heard Chenchen’s voice beside her.

Seeing Chenchen’s anxious concern, Lu Zhao moved her dry throat, “Did I sleep long?”

Chenchen nodded vigorously, “Almost three hours, my treasure!”

Looking at Lu Zhao’s confused eyes, she asked, “Did you know your susceptible period hit?”

Lu Zhao vaguely recalled.

Perhaps because of it, her body felt unprecedentedly heavy. Shifting her head dully, she seemed to remember something, “In the bathroom?”

“Yeah.” Chenchen’s tone held lingering fear, “I was terrified when I arrived. You were so fierce.”

Lu Zhao’s memory hadn’t fully loaded. She only recalled hearing footsteps as she sat collapsed on the floor.

Somewhat relieved, Lu Zhao sighed, “So it was you.”

Chenchen didn’t understand, “What was me?”

“I remember when my susceptible period hit, someone was coming to the bathroom. If it wasn’t you, it’d be Teacher.” Lu Zhao explained, patting her chest in relief, “Almost committed a grave offense.”

Hearing this, Chenchen’s eyes glinted with mischief.

Propping her chin, she looked at Lu Zhao on the bed, “Didn’t expect our Ah Zhao to respect her teacher so much?”

Lu Zhao sensed something in Chenchen’s tone, retorting, “Why not?”

“It’s fine.” Chenchen nodded approvingly, then shifted, “But someone seems inconsistent.”

Lu Zhao frowned, “What do you mean?”

Lightning flashed outside, and Chenchen’s voice struck like thunder, “Ah Zhao, don’t you know, you, so respectful, pinned your teacher down!”