After the Top Idol Omega and I Started Living Together - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Lu Zhao’s slender fingers held a small white piece high, sunlight blazing brightly.

The thin material fell under the glaring light, emitting a lingering scent downward.

The calmed sea water cradled Sheng Jingyu’s body, drifting endlessly.

She lay on the bed like this, staring at the small piece for a while, then slowly recalled the lackluster aftermath at the bar last night.

The Alpha lady realized Sheng Jingyu was an Omega, immediately apologized for her behavior, then stood and left.

Sheng Jingyu didn’t lose control and grab the other’s wrist.

Nor did she lean toward the other’s unprotected gland, losing restraint.

The full, grape-like gland was merely her imagination.

Spilled liquor flowed on the table, reflecting gold in the bar’s dim light.

The abandoned white piece floated quietly on it, then a pair of hands picked it up.

On impulse, Sheng Jingyu put the thing in her pocket.

Sheng Jingyu thought she was calm enough, but her subconscious wove a dream of losing reason.

Absurd yet real, it carved a new world in her wilderness.

She didn’t know whether to call it luck.

For twenty-nine years, Sheng Jingyu smelled an Alpha’s pheromone for the first time.

Fierce and sharp.

Yet gentle and tender.

“…”

The damp feeling was hard to ignore; Sheng Jingyu silently tidied the messy quilt to one side.

She yanked the wrinkled bedsheet down, balled it up, stuffed it into the bathroom’s washing machine, then opened the window to air out, destroying evidence.

“Knock knock.”

At that moment, a knock sounded in the quiet room.

A flash of panic crossed Sheng Jingyu’s eyes, then she regained calm, raised her hand, and signed to the servant: “What is it?”

Her sign language was deft, even carrying a leisurely elegance, not at all like someone newly mute.

The household servant understood sign language and replied: “Miss, Doctor Cheng is waiting for you in the second-floor small parlor.”

Two months ago, Sheng Jingyu’s gland suddenly mutated, only recently stabilized; her family doctor, Cheng Xin, came regularly to check on her.

This person, an A-grade Alpha, grew close to Sheng Jingyu over time, becoming her friend.

Sheng Jingyu glanced at the clock, saw it was nearly noon, understood why the servant knocked, and signed: “Prepare a caramel pudding for Doctor Cheng; I’ll be down soon.”

“Yes.” The servant nodded slightly and left.

The door’s closing stirred a cool breeze; a thin layer of sweat clung to Sheng Jingyu’s silk camisole nightgown.

Sheng Jingyu noticed the sticky dampness that even central air couldn’t dispel, knew she couldn’t meet anyone like this, stepped over the washing machine’s hum, and soaked herself in the bathtub.

The strange flush faded; her elbow, slipping through the sleeve, carried a faint pink from the steamy heat.

Compared to the bar’s strappy long dress last night, Sheng Jingyu changed into a simple outfit; the topmost shirt button, fastened, exuded a distant coldness.

This was her usual self.

Pushing open the small parlor’s door, Sheng Jingyu saw the person by the window, moving unhurriedly: “Kept you waiting.”

“I came early,” Cheng Xin smiled, her tone familiar. “Your servant said you came back late last night; sleeping in is reasonable.”

Sheng Jingyu nodded, subtly circling behind Cheng Xin.

The breeze from the window brought warmth, no extra scents.

A trace of melancholy flashed in Sheng Jingyu’s eyes.

—She couldn’t smell the Alpha’s scent again.

The room was unusually quiet; Cheng Xin was long used to Sheng Jingyu’s silence.

She didn’t notice her change, quickly ate the last bite of pudding, and began the routine checkup.

The machine’s sound hummed regularly; Sheng Jingyu calmly watched the needle pierce her arm, bl00d flowing back, filling the tube.

She was used to this, calmly noticed Cheng Xin’s expression shift from calm to delighted, then interrupted by a furrowed brow.

“What’s wrong?” Sheng Jingyu signed, her expression indifferent.

“Strange,” Cheng Xin looked puzzled, placing the report before Sheng Jingyu. “Your pheromone levels reached the minimum normal standard for an Omega; the gland’s restless factors are suppressed.”

Sheng Jingyu: “This is good.”

Her expression remained indifferent.

As if good or bad results didn’t matter to her.

But Cheng Xin cared, her excitement intense: “How did you do it? It’s only been half a month since the last check!”

“Logically, only an Alpha’s pheromone can calm an Omega,” Cheng Xin stared at the machine’s data, seeking answers. “Remember what I told you? If you find a perfectly matched Alpha, your gland issues could be resolved.”

“Then your vocal cords could recover, and you could sing again, my Jing Yuan!”

Cheng Xin’s excited voice echoed in Sheng Jingyu’s ears, as if vibrating her constricted throat and vocal cords.

Subtly, Sheng Jingyu’s tongue brushed her teeth; the grape-like scent turned the dry sea water turquoise, surging toward her layer by layer.

Sheng Jingyu didn’t know if this was a real scent she smelled or a trace in her memory.

.

The long, silent corridor glowed with dim lights; a fierce tune muffled through a door padded with soundproof cotton.

Lu Zhao was rehearsing the group’s fourth album choreography.

Her loose black T-shirt lifted with her movements, her collarbone peeking through the open neckline, rising and falling with her breaths.

Though the inhibitor patch clung tightly to her nape, her Alpha pheromone seemed to seep through the curve of her collarbone.

The intense music peaked and stopped; Lu Zhao knelt on one knee, striking the group’s pose before the mirror.

Her gray-black pupils reflected the falling light, deep and sharp.

Lu Zhao’s face held little smile; her frozen pose was crisp and straight, amplifying her Alpha presence to the extreme; a silver necklace grazed her neck, as if each breath was designed, each one rolling the silver light.

The dance teacher watched from behind, eyes fixed.

She, also an Alpha, was captivated by Lu Zhao’s aura.

But the aura didn’t last; two seconds after the pose, Lu Zhao collapsed to the floor.

Her sweat-soaked hair sprawled on the ground, carefree without any idol burden.

Just moments ago, she was the group’s ultra-Alpha in the mirror; now, she was a hapless puppy.

The dance teacher, seeing Lu Zhao’s stark contrast, grabbed an ice water and walked over: “You danced so Alpha just now, but the music stops, and you’re weak.”

“Headache,” Lu Zhao, always carefree, took the water and placed it on her forehead.

She drank heavily at the bar two days ago, her mind a chaotic mess; after a day’s rest, she still hadn’t recovered.

The dance teacher laughed: “Your teammates would feel bad hearing that; you dance so well despite a headache.”

“They won’t mind,” Lu Zhao said trustingly, then her eyes dimmed as if recalling something. “The one who minds, no matter what I say, she’ll mind.”

Having coached the group for two years, the teacher sensed the group’s dynamics.

She knew Lu Zhao’s situation but was powerless, so she lightened the tone: “It’s noon; go eat. You had a slice of bread this morning; skip lunch, and you’re not far from starving.”

She ruffled Lu Zhao’s hair, teasing: “The group’s top Alpha starving to death would be so embarrassing.”

Lu Zhao smiled, drawling lazily: “Okay—I’ll go after lying here a bit.”

The person on the floor didn’t move; footsteps faded, and the rehearsal room quieted.

Lu Zhao turned to see herself in the mirror; her breathing had calmed, her slim frame lying on the floor.

She hadn’t moved past Jing Yuan’s retirement announcement; her hair was messy, a bit wild and desolate.

Lu Zhao wondered if she took the wrong path from the start.

If she chose another road, would she be closer to Jing Yuan, maybe even meet her in person.

Light fell on Lu Zhao’s eyelashes; her gray-black pupils dimmed.

“Buzz buzz buzz…”

A sudden phone call broke Lu Zhao’s thoughts.

She flipped over, walked to the chair with her bag, and saw “Agent Zhang” flashing on the screen.

Though Lu Zhao was a minor idol, she owned a historic mansion in the city center.

Her talent show-formed girl group was nearing its disbandment; her resources plummeted, income dropped sharply, so she planned to rent out the mansion to balance finances and get by.

For complex reasons, Lu Zhao couldn’t fully rent the house, only co-rent with a tenant.

But those interested in historic mansions didn’t want to co-rent; they wanted to enjoy the estate alone, not share with a landlord.

Lu Zhao knew finding such a co-tenant was a stroke of luck and wasn’t in a rush.

But the agent was eager.

The house’s location was prime, its past renovations well-maintained.

Selling it would be even better.

So every half-month, Lu Zhao got a call from Agent Zhang, citing recent rejections to persuade her to sell.

This time, Lu Zhao thought the same.

She answered slowly, expecting another failure, but the agent brought good news.

“Miss Lu, good news! A lady wants to rent your mansion and agrees to your conditions! Are you free this afternoon? Let’s meet?” Agent Zhang’s voice was unprecedentedly excited, like she was about to defeat a tough boss.

Lu Zhao realized this was a rare chance, shedding her earlier laziness: “Good, set a time with her; we’ll meet at the mansion this afternoon. If she’s okay with it, you can sign the contract with her!”

Weekends were traffic-heavy; from the third ring to the second, cars formed a long line.

Lu Zhao didn’t call her assistant, drove to the city center fully geared, but was still a quarter-hour late.

The heavy black gate slowly opened inward, a garden of spring colors bursting forth, red brick roofs peeking above.

Lu Zhao parked expertly and walked to the agreed-upon garden.

Wisteria hung over the stone corridor, dense green leaves shielding the early summer heat, casting a flickering shadow on a distant, slender figure.

Sunglasses’ cool tones softened the midday summer heat; faint cicada hums under the shade sounded like post-rain.

As the distance closed, the figure grew clearer.

Lu Zhao saw a woman in a white long dress standing under the wisteria pavilion.

Unlike the colorful hair Lu Zhao was used to, this woman’s hair was pure black.

Untouched by bleaching or dyeing, her thick, heavy hair cascaded like a waterfall down her straight back, sketching a slim, elegant silhouette in a few strokes.

Lu Zhao’s breathing slowed instinctively, her footsteps softening for the beautiful scene.

But her steps were noticed.

The woman turned slightly, looking back.

Sunlight filtered through the wisteria vines, tinting her beautiful eyes a cool silver-white, calm as a still pool, unforgettable with one glance.

So Lu Zhao recognized her instantly.

The woman who would live under the same roof as her was the Omega lady she met at the bar that night.