Her Pheromones Smell Like Sparkling Water (GL) - Chapter 1

It was already the month of August, and the skies over City A were taken over by thick, heavy clouds. Rain fell day after day, and the sun could barely squeeze a few golden beams through the gaps in the overcast sky. One of those rays slipped through the car window and landed gently on an impossibly beautiful face.

Sharp brows. Crimson lips. 

Beneath that sharpness, there was a dangerous kind of allure—like an enchantress capable of bringing a nation to its knees.

Shang Ranzhu leaned lazily against the seat, one perfectly shaped leg draped diagonally across it. Her legs were just soft enough to feel inviting without being out of proportion, and anyone would naturally be drawn upward along those smooth lines. 

She was wearing one of DRE’s new season “Witch Series” dresses, which wrapped tightly around her body. The dress was originally designed with a plunging V-neck, but she’d cinched it tightly with an oversized belt.

Her waist was so slim, it looked like you could wrap a single hand around it.

The temperature difference between the inside and outside of the car had caused a thin layer of fog to form on the windows.

It felt just like that day.

Shang Ranzhu suddenly remembered something unpleasant. She raised her hand. Her fingernails were painted a deep red—wanting to wipe the fog from the window. But just then, the driver hit the brakes. She was pushed forward, slamming into the leather seat in front. Her fair knee hit the bumpy floor mat and quickly turned red.

The lipstick she had just carefully applied smudged across the back of the seat, leaving a messy streak across the corner of her lips—fuzzy, chaotic, and far from glamorous.

“Shang Shang, are you okay?” Her manager, Chen Ming, asked from the front seat, rubbing her forehead while glancing back with concern.

“What do you think?” Shang Ranzhu snapped, pointing at the lipstick streak on her cheek.

“What happened?” she demanded, patting the driver’s shoulder.

The driver winced from the pat and replied while rubbing his shoulder, clearly annoyed. “A kid ran out all of a sudden. Just our luck.”

Shang Ranzhu didn’t care about appearances at all. She braced herself between the two seats and leaned forward to look through the windshield. A young mother stood frozen in front of the car, clutching a child tightly in her arms. The child looked scared, curled up in her embrace. Their umbrella had flown off somewhere in the storm. The rain soaked them, leaving the two looking utterly pitiful.

But Shang Ranzhu didn’t have much patience. She rolled down the window and shouted, “Hey! Can you not block the road?”

Chen Ming quickly reached out to tug on Shang Ranzhu’s skirt, whispering nervously, “Shang Shang, let me handle it.”

“I’m sorry! We didn’t mean to,” the woman apologized, rushing to the side of the road with her child in her arms. Her eyes shimmered with tears, and a strange scent drifted into the car—like soap diluted in water.

Shang Ranzhu’s expression changed. The woman outside was an Omega.

And worse, she might’ve entered her heat because of the shock.

“Do you have an inhibitor?” Shang Ranzhu turned to Chen Ming.

“Sis, I’m just a Beta,” Chen Ming said helplessly.

“I’ve got one,” the driver said, raising his hand to show a small pale-yellow vial.

Just that tiny dose could pull an Omega back from the edge of losing control.

Shang Ranzhu took the vial and, without a word, grabbed an expensive umbrella from the side. She leaned halfway out of the car and handed both the inhibitor and the umbrella to the woman. “Here. Take this umbrella and this shot. Go find somewhere to use it. Quick.”

Her tone was still cold and a little intimidating, but the woman clearly warmed up to her. She clutched the items tightly and thanked her over and over again. Shang Ranzhu simply waved her hand dismissively and sat back down in the car.

But when she sat, she brought a whole puddle of rainwater in with her. The back seat was completely soaked. Chen Ming winced at the sight of her soaked leather seats but was more worried about Shang Ranzhu. She quickly turned on the heater and aimed the warm air right at her.

“My god, couldn’t you at least hold an umbrella if you’re going to play the good Samaritan?” Chen Ming scolded gently.

Shang Ranzhu didn’t seem to care. She took the towel Chen Ming handed her, drying her hair as she looked out the window. Only after the woman and her child disappeared into the storm did she nod at the driver to start the car again.

“How did you know she was in heat? You could smell it?” Chen Ming asked curiously.

“In this kind of heavy rain, I couldn’t smell anything,” added the driver, who was also an Omega. He sounded surprised.

“Of course I could. No Omega’s scent can escape this nose of mine,” Shang Ranzhu said proudly, boasting about what she knew was a fairly useless talent.

“I’m really curious what those pheromones smell like. Poor me, a Beta—I can’t smell a thing,” Chen Ming joked.

“Betas have it easy. They don’t have a peculiar anatomy, they don’t become susceptible to heat, and they don’t have to fight their instincts, and yet here you are, still complaining,” Shang Ranzhu scoffed.

She claimed that Betas were fortunate, but in reality, she never harbored any envy for them.

Ever since she was little, Shang Ranzhu had dreamed of becoming an Alpha. And under the hopeful care of a mother who had always wished for an Omega daughter, she had successfully differentiated—into an Alpha.

That day, even through the pain of her secondary gender awakening, Shang Ranzhu had been so thrilled that she climbed over the wall to share the news with her best friend, Chen Ming. Her cream-scented pheromones had spread across the entire courtyard.

Meanwhile, her mother collapsed into her father’s arms, sobbing like Shang Ranzhu had died young.

Shang Ranzhu couldn’t help but smile triumphantly every time she remembered that scene.

After her differentiation, she became exactly the kind of Alpha she had hoped to be—stronger and more agile. Climbing walls became effortless, and her height shot up to 172 cm. In a crowd, she looked like a lone crane standing tall above the rest—dignified and untouchable.

In her mind, her appearance was what a top-tier Alpha should be: someone who gave off a sense of security.

Not like Shen Tingjun—frail, aloof, like some untouchable flower on a mountaintop. Why would an Omega be someone like that?

And yet, somehow, Shen Tingjun had the largest female Omega fanbase in the entire entertainment industry.

Unbelievable.

Just thinking about it made Shang Ranzhu’s emotions spike.

The rain outside seemed to echo her mood, falling harder and messier, like it was determined to punch holes into the pavement.

It felt even more like that day.

Last year’s Golden Palm Awards.

Shang Ranzhu and Shen Tingjun weren’t exactly close. Shen Tingjun had already debuted by the time Shang Ranzhu was still an undifferentiated little girl. Back then, she felt a genuine admiration for the elegant big sister on TV who was holding up a trophy. She even told young Chen Ming once, “Wouldn’t it be great if I could marry someone like her?”

Chen Ming had mercilessly laughed at her.

With a teasing grin, she’d said, “Your dear Shen Tingjun is an Alpha. And you want to be an Alpha too. Do you really think she’d like you?”

Shang Ranzhu had puffed up in outrage, hands on her hips with flushed cheeks. “Why not? Two Alphas can be together too!!”

What she never expected was that the actress she once admired would one day become the biggest thorn in her acting career.

After finally winning both the Best Newcomer and Best Actress awards at the Golden Palm, Shang Ranzhu was hit with a pointed question from a reporter—one that came up at nearly every award ceremony where Shen Tingjun wasn’t present.

“Miss Shang, do you believe your victory today could have been a mere coincidence?” After all, Miss Shen wasn’t competing this year.”

Following Chen Ming’s advice, Shang Ranzhu took a deep breath and chose to ignore the question.

But the reporter didn’t back down. “Miss Shen won similar awards when she debuted. Can we start calling you ‘Little Shen Tingjun’?”

Shang Ranzhu’s face turned black on the spot. She slapped the mic away and walked off.

She was an Alpha—a young, fiery, prideful Alpha.

Because of that incident, #ShenShangFeud shot to the top of the trending list. Fans of both sides tore each other apart online. Nobody showed any mercy. 

For days, gossip-hungry netizens had a feast.

The whole ordeal left Shang Ranzhu bitter—and made her dislike the otherwise-innocent Shen Tingjun even more.

She started believing there could never be two Alphas in one spotlight. When two Alphas crossed paths, a showdown was inevitable.

All that talk about childhood admiration or “I’m an alpha, and she’ll love me too” was childish nonsense.

She was determined to outshine Shen Tingjun—to crush every criticism against her. One day, she would win Best Actress again, but with Shen Tingjun also in the running. And she’d take that crown right in front of her.

The black Maybach slowly pulled into a large estate. Iron fences were wrapped with blooming roses, pale pink and white flowers glistening under the rain, blooming freely among the greenery.

This was the screen test location for Director Xu’s Republican-era dual-female-lead film, Moonlight. Shang Ranzhu was auditioning for one of the lead roles as Chun Ming—a spy disguised as a servant to the Gong family heiress.

When she first received the audition invite, Shang Ranzhu had actually felt a little insulted.

After all, she wasn’t the director’s first pick. The original actress cast as Chun Ming has been rejected by the actress who will play the Gong family heiress. It was only then that they reopened the auditions.

Shang Ranzhu had been about to turn down the role—until Chen Ming informed her that Shen Tingjun was playing the Gong heiress.

Shen Tingjun.

She agreed immediately.

She didn’t care about the role. She just wanted to face off against Shen Tingjun—and beat her.

The rain outside poured harder, almost like it wanted to wash the whole world clean.

Raindrops pelted the rose bushes at the entrance, battering the delicate petals into a drooping, pitiful mess.

By the time Shang Ranzhu’s Maybach reached the villa, a white van was already parked in front. She didn’t need to guess whose car it was.

Her competitive spirit surged once more, prompting her to open the car door immediately after it stopped. She stepped out, her red stiletto heels striking the water-covered pavement with determination. The hem of her black dress quickly became soaked, spreading out like a blooming flower.

She didn’t care about the curious stares around her. She only turned her head to look at Shen Tingjun, who was already walking towards the venue.

Shen Tingjun wore a white tailored suit, her figure straight and crisp. Her signature abstinent style was on full display, with every button of her shirt fastened all the way to the top.

Beneath the slim-fit blazer were delicate silver heels, wrapped around graceful feet. The cold wind brushed against her pale, almost translucent skin, causing soft pink hues to bloom like flowers on snow.

You couldn’t help but want to look again.

A staff member held a large black umbrella over her, shielding half her face. Her lips were painted with a subtle orange-red, tightly pressed together—a picture of restraint and self-denial.

It made people want to rip that mask off and watch the color rise in her cheeks.

“Shang Shang, let’s go,” Chen Ming called, circling around from the other side of the car.

“Yeah, let’s,” Shang Ranzhu replied with a nod. Her voice, though sharp, was softened slightly by the sound of the rain.