After the Top Idol Omega and I Started Living Together - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The world at night had long lost the clamor of the day, with the sound of cicadas hiding in the leaves.

The night was unusually quiet, making the sound of a heartbeat stand out distinctly.

This was not a particularly difficult sentence to understand, with simple words that were easy to grasp.

But Sheng Jingyu just stared at it, her expression shifting repeatedly.

Her body always expressed itself before her reason, so candidly it made her ears flush.

The chat window stayed quiet for a while before Cheng Xin sent a new message: [Although you differentiated into an Omega over a decade ago, your body has been closed off all these years. It was this Alpha’s pheromone that awakened you, so your desire for her will be intense.]

She explained word by word, analyzing carefully for Sheng Jingyu: [Your current state is like that of a newly differentiated Omega. You will feel an unknown longing for the Alpha’s pheromone and be overly sensitive to changes in her pheromone field. Don’t be nervous. Once you gradually get used to the Alpha’s presence, it won’t be like this.]

The slightly absurd desire was gradually masked by rational explanation, and Sheng Jingyu’s gaze returned to calm.

She thought, this was for the best.

She wouldn’t peek into someone else’s world because of this, nor would a second person intrude into her own. Even if her desire for this pheromone was strong, she could control herself.

But just as Sheng Jingyu let out a slight breath of relief, Cheng Xin’s message came again: [Since you’re already living together, I suggest you appropriately increase contact with her. This is the best way to maintain your body’s balance before the reagent is developed.]

[Ah Yu, your body can’t withstand a second surgery.]

Sheng Jingyu paused as she looked at the words.

Cheng Xin’s first sentence was as her family doctor, offering advice to maintain the patient’s best condition for now.

The second sentence was a warning from a friend.

Her long hair dampened the skin behind her neck, and her gland faintly ached.

Last month, her gland suddenly fell ill, and she underwent five surgeries, big and small. Several times, Sheng Jingyu nearly didn’t make it back from the brink of death.

She had already prepared for death.

But that night, she caught Lu Zhao’s scent.

The cicadas’ chirping suddenly surged, breaking the night’s silence.

It was like restless resistance.

Sheng Jingyu tapped the screen, asking: [What’s the specific method?]

[Of course, it’s a temporary marking.] Cheng Xin replied quickly, her tone light, as if it were a trivial matter.

But as Sheng Jingyu looked at those words, her calm eyes couldn’t stay calm any longer.

The so-called marking referred to an Alpha injecting their pheromone into an Omega’s gland to claim ownership.

A temporary marking’s imprint would fade, unlike a permanent one, making it safer than a permanent marking.

The summer night’s heat was stifling, and that dream flashed in Sheng Jingyu’s mind again.

In the dim light of the bar, she leaned forward, nearly touching that hidden gland.

Although Omegas couldn’t temporarily mark Alphas, they could perform a similar act.

The night deepened, and tree shadows swayed in the wind, like desires rippling and spreading in the darkness.

The scent lingering in her memory dripped a few drops of seawater into the air, like lychees falling into water, sparkling and translucent.

Her thoughts were drawn deeper, most likely to lose control in the heavy night.

If she could touch that gland in reality…

[But I don’t recommend a temporary marking.]

It was like a gasp for air.

Just as Sheng Jingyu was once again led by desire, Cheng Xin rejected the idea.

She analyzed from the other side of the phone, giving Sheng Jingyu a better suggestion: [Ah Yu, your gland is fragile and might not withstand a temporary marking. Although close proximity or appropriate physical contact has a shorter effect, since you live under the same roof, this will do.]

The cicadas chirped restlessly, leaping high and low in the night.

Sheng Jingyu quickly regained her usual aloof and restrained demeanor, but the dripping ends of her hair had already soaked most of the collar behind her neck.

It was like uncontrolled pheromones.

Even if controlled afterward, the traces couldn’t be hidden.

.

The next day, the sunlight was bright, and the sun scorched the earth.

The cicadas cried tirelessly, one wave louder than the next. Lu Zhao lay in bed, eyes tightly closed, brows furrowed.

But it wasn’t the noisy cicadas that bothered her; she was trapped in a dream.

The small hall, thanks to yesterday’s move, now held a piano again. Memories were never quiet, always stirring and ready to act.

Lu Zhao had chaotic dreams all night—good and bad, all jumbled and thrown at her. She had no chance to dodge, caught in the whirlpool of memories, unable to struggle, dragged deeper.

“Buzz buzz buzz…”

The sudden vibration of her phone was like a lifeline, pulling Lu Zhao from the nightmare.

Woken abruptly, her head throbbed painfully. She fumbled blindly with her eyes closed and answered the phone: “Hello…”

“Ah Zhao! I bought breakfast! All your favorites!”

Unlike Lu Zhao’s weak voice, Chenchen’s was brimming with enthusiasm early in the morning, her loud voice filling Lu Zhao’s head.

Her head hurt more.

Lu Zhao held the phone farther away, expressing her displeasure: “Chenchen, your voice is such a waste not singing high notes. My ears are nearly deaf from you.”

“Next time, I’ll be careful, next time,” Chenchen said, embarrassed, lowering her voice. She reminded Lu Zhao: “I’m almost home. Come downstairs quick. These soup dumplings are best hot; they’re not good cold.”

For pulling her out of the nightmare, Lu Zhao didn’t complain further.

She rubbed her head and slowly sat up from the bed: “Got it…”

The summer’s scorching light fell on the glass, only to be pushed back by the central air conditioning’s cool air.

Lu Zhao walked down the stairs, yawning long, her slender legs swinging in loose cartoon pajama shorts.

“I wonder what good food Chenchen prepared this time.”

Anticipation and hunger arose together, quickening Lu Zhao’s steps.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the kitchen emitted the scent of sizzling oil, fragrant and enticing.

Thinking Chenchen had arrived, Lu Zhao hurried over but saw an unfamiliar figure.

Morning light passed through the window, softened by the glass.

Curly long hair brushed over an arm, neat sleeves rolled above the elbow. The white shirt, the color most permeable to light, faintly outlined the person’s slender, tall frame.

Those downcast eyes were calm and focused, with slightly curled lashes adorned with just the right amount of light.

The sun favored her, making it all look like a scene cut from a movie.

Lu Zhao’s movement down the stairs paused. She stood there, holding the railing, staring blankly at the person.

As if sensing something, the person set down the knife and turned to look.

The sunlight dazzled slightly, and silver-gray eyes were calm and clear.

Her unruffled demeanor was as if she truly belonged here.

And indeed, she did.

Lu Zhao suddenly remembered that her house had finally been rented out yesterday, and she had begun at least a year of co-living with Sheng Jingyu.

Their eyes met, and out of courtesy, Lu Zhao greeted first, friendly: “Good morning, Miss Sheng.”

Sheng Jingyu returned the courtesy, nodding slightly: “Good morning, Miss Lu.”

Lu Zhao smiled at Sheng Jingyu. The sound of the front door being pushed open broke the unfamiliar calm between them.

Chenchen entered, carrying a big box of breakfast, her voice loud: “I’m here, Ah Zhao!”

They say good food brings a good mood for the day, and Chenchen looked especially bright and sunny.

She walked toward the dining room, not forgetting to greet Sheng Jingyu: “Good morning, Miss Sheng. Have you eaten breakfast? I bought buns; want to join us?”

Sheng Jingyu never liked getting close to people, even those she’d inevitably spend time with, always keeping her distance.

She picked up her freshly made sandwich, politely declining.

“Okay,” Chenchen said, originally hoping to bond with Sheng Jingyu but now feeling a bit disappointed.

The steaming aroma of soup dumplings filled the dining room but couldn’t break the strange silence at breakfast.

Three people sat at different sides of the table, the space filled with unfamiliar quiet.

Lu Zhao was the first to break the silence.

Half-full and regaining some energy, she looked up at Chenchen across from her: “So, what’s the plan today?”

Chenchen was slightly surprised by Lu Zhao’s confident tone. Before Lu Zhao could ask more, she spilled: “How did you know I wanted to drag you into something today?”

“When have you ever come to me early in the morning for no reason?” Lu Zhao said familiarly, picking up another bun.

“True,” Chenchen giggled, then got to the point: “Ah Zhao, do you know you haven’t been active for almost half a month? You were busy with your thesis defense earlier this month, but you’re free now.”

“Ah Zhao, it’s time to market your beauty!”

Even if Chenchen hadn’t said it, Lu Zhao had thought of it.

She had zero resources this month. Without some marketing, her fans would leave.

“You’ve got a plan?” Lu Zhao looked at Chenchen, who had come to her主动, her tone certain.

Chenchen nodded happily, sharing the plan she’d thought about all night: “Yesterday, I saw the white camellias blooming behind the mansion. We don’t need to go anywhere else; that spot is perfect for photos!”

Lu Zhao squinted slightly at Chenchen, who was earnestly planning everything, then put down her soup dumpling: “Alright, I’ll go upstairs to find some clothes.”

She knew Chenchen was the only one who truly considered her interests and was willing to follow her lead unconditionally.

“Great, great!” Chenchen nodded eagerly.

She’d been imagining it since last night and couldn’t help but remind Lu Zhao as she left: “Ah Zhao, go for white tones, something dress-like, not too formal, light and airy.”

Chenchen described it in detail, sounding a bit like a worried mom.

Lu Zhao, holding the stair railing, turned to Chenchen, a bit helpless but drawling: “Okay—I got it.”

As Lu Zhao went upstairs to change, Chenchen wolfed down her breakfast.

She skillfully pulled over a chair, took a large ceramic bowl from the top cabinet, and filled it with water.

The dining room fell into a different kind of quiet, with the spotlight casting shadows, leaving only Sheng Jingyu eating her breakfast slowly.

It was as if it was in her nature—Sheng Jingyu had always disliked excessive contact with others since she was young.

She lingered at the edge of the world, calm as still water, never offering polite gestures like asking if someone needed help.

Chewing slowly, Sheng Jingyu finished her last bite of breakfast.

Then she picked up the cup beside her. Milk passed her lips, and the plain white skirt’s hem caught the light refracted by the glass, spilling down from the stairs.

“Chenchen, will this do?”

Lu Zhao, changed into new clothes, came down the stairs.

She held the pure white skirt’s hem in her hand, which fluttered lightly in the breeze, revealing her striking legs without restraint.

Thanks to dancing, those legs weren’t monotonously flat; the raised lines were full of an Alpha’s unique strength.

Without the stage’s harsh, direct light, the sunlight fell softly on Lu Zhao’s fair skin, blending with the warmth of her bl00d, showing a layer of warm, porcelain-white pink.

It was unrestrained freedom.

It was a spring garden that couldn’t be contained.

Sheng Jingyu suddenly felt she could smell lychees, with sea breezes curling through her long hair, making her vision flicker.

In a daze, Sheng Jingyu recalled what Cheng Xin had told her last night.

—This Alpha’s pheromone awakened you, so your desire for her will be intense.

“Perfect!” Chenchen, momentarily dazed, nearly spilled the water from the bowl she held.

But a slender, strong hand steadied it.

Sheng Jingyu stood up, casually tapping her phone toward Chenchen: “Need any help?”