Her Pheromones Smell Like Sparkling Water (GL) - Chapter 10

What was so “coincidental” about this? This was her house!

Even though a storm was raging inside her heart, Shang Ranzhu forced herself to stay calm and politely asked, “What brings you here, Ms. Shen?”

“After trying your soda water yesterday, I thought it was really good. So I came by today to grab a few more bottles,” Shen Tingjun replied honestly. She’d originally just wanted a quiet place to clear her head—she hadn’t expected to run into Shang Ranzhu.

Ranzhu looked at the plain soda water on Shen Tingjun’s table and figured that someone like Shen Tingjun, an actress pushing thirty, probably wouldn’t touch greasy or high-calorie food to keep her figure. So she teased, “How come you’re not trying our fried chicken or hot pot? Not a fan of high-cal food? That’s too bad—I was hoping to eat with you.”

Unexpectedly, Shen Tingjun narrowed her eyes with a hint of a smile. Then, right in front of Shang Ranzhu, she picked up the sleek leather jacket hanging behind her seat, casually draped it over her shoulders, and walked straight over.

“I couldn’t possibly turn down such an invitation.”

Damn this mouth of hers!

Shang Ranzhu should’ve known—Shen Tingjun never played by the rules.

Without bothering Ranzhu any further, Shen Tingjun turned to Chen Ming and asked naturally, “Where are you two sitting? I’ll join you.”

“Over here,” Chen Ming replied, instantly switching sides like the hardcore CP (coupling/pairing) fan she was. She led Shen Tingjun toward the booth that she and Ranzhu had claimed as their “exclusive” spot.

And so, Ranzhu could only watch as Shen Tingjun pulled out the chair diagonally across from Chen Ming and sat down. Then she turned to Ranzhu, shot her a look, and beckoned her to come over. Cool and flirtatious.

Shen Tingjun definitely did it on purpose. Of all the places to sit, she just had to pick the seat that made things awkward.

That was her seat, for one.

And now, no matter where she sat, she’d be in the same frame as Shen Tingjun.

Either face-to-face or shoulder-to-shoulder.

“Chen Ming, let’s switch seats.” Ranzhu leaned into the booth and tugged at Chen Ming’s arm.

But Chen Ming, top CP fan that she was, refused immediately, her voice trembling as she said, “I—I’m used to this spot.”

Ranzhu’s nostrils flared in frustration. In a fit of resolve, she dragged a chair over from another table and placed it at the narrow end of theirs, then sat down.

Perfect. There was no direct eye contact or shoulder-to-shoulder contact with Shen Tingjun.

I’m a humble little genius at breaking deadlocks.

Just as Shang Ranzhu was reveling in her clever solution, Liu Lihua burst into the shop wearing her apron. Her eyes were scanning the place like she was looking for someone. Finally, her eyes landed on the trio’s table.

“I thought you left! Turns out you came here to hang out with Ranzhu?” Liu Lihua beamed warmly at Shen Tingjun. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

“We just met, actually. She invited me to try some food from your shop, so I decided to join them,” Shen Tingjun replied with perfect manners.

Shen Tingjun, with her polite tone and gracious attitude, embodied the epitome of a model child.

And of course, Shang Ranzhu knew: this was exactly her mother, Liu Lihua’s weakness.

“But Auntie,” Shen Tingjun added, her voice soft, eyes glancing at Shang Ranzhu with a hint of grievance, “I don’t think Ranzhu’s very happy about me joining them.”

On her aloof, icy face, that subtle pout was downright lethal.

Anyone witnessing it would feel compelled to strike out at the person responsible for their goddess’s sadness.

Liu Lihua and Chen Ming both turned to stare daggers at Ranzhu. Heck—even Ranzhu herself felt like punching herself.

Liu Lihua kicked at the leg of Ranzhu’s chair. “What did you do to upset Tingjun?”

“I didn’t!” Ranzhu immediately jumped into damage control. “She’s overthinking it. I didn’t say she couldn’t sit with us.”

“Then why are you sitting out in the aisle?” Shen Tingjun asked softly, like she’d truly been wronged.

“Yeah, why?” Liu Lihua added, glaring again. Sitting apart like that only made it look like she was avoiding her. Not good.

“Move in.” Liu Lihua rapped her knuckles against Ranzhu’s chair and pointed to the open seat next to Shen Tingjun.

“I’m fine right here.” Ranzhu’s voice was firm. She was glued to her chair, determined to defend her personal boundary.

Liu Lihua smiled gently, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes—the same look she got whenever she made bamboo shoots with pork. “Tingjun’s here. Don’t make me smack you.”

Ranzhu swallowed, hard. She quickly weighed the cost: losing face by sitting next to Shen Tingjun or losing more face by being smacked in front of her.

She stood, moved the chair back, and surrendered to Madame Liu.

“That’s more like it.” Liu Lihua gave her a satisfied smile, then tugged her daughter over to the booth, giving her a firm push. “Go on, sit.”

The booth barely had room for one person. Two would be uncomfortably close. Before Shen Tingjun could even stand to make a space, Liu Lihua had already shoved Ranzhu in beside her.

Ranzhu was wearing a knee-length skirt, and her bare legs pressed directly against Shen Tingjun’s black satin wide-leg pants—seamless contact, not an inch of space.

Liu Lihua looked on with great satisfaction, then turned and walked away like a legendary matchmaker, hiding her accomplishments.

My dear daughter, this is as far as your mother can help you.

Shang Ranzhu’s awkwardness didn’t go unnoticed. Shen Tingjun gently placed her hands on her waist, steadying her as she slid into the booth.

A jolt of electricity shot through her, soft and tingly.

Warmth and coolness intertwined.

It was only a short squeeze into the seat, but to Ranzhu, it felt like an eternity.

By the time she was finally seated beside Shen Tingjun, her whole face was burning red.

Shang Ranzhu was not the kind of person who blushed easily.

But across from her, Chen Ming was too busy losing her mind over this real-life CP interaction to notice such a minor detail.

Shen Tingjun, on the other hand, glanced at the girl with her head down—and gave a soft chuckle.

“What are you laughing at?” Shang Ranzhu asked with a knowingly teasing tone.

Shen Tingjun took a small sip of her sparkling water and replied softly, “I’m laughing because kids are just thin-skinned.”

There it was again—“kid.”

Shang Ranzhu huffed in protest.

Shen Tingjun added, “And they get angry easily, too.”

“I’m not angry,” Shang Ranzhu muttered with a frown.

Shen Tingjun stayed calm. “I never said you were a kid.”

Shang Ranzhu turned her head slightly, giving Shen Tingjun a fierce glare. But she saw that Shen Tingjun was still resting her chin in her left hand, watching her with a warm smile.

When Shen Tingjun smiled, her eyes curved into gentle crescents, and her long lashes fanned out, catching the light and reflecting the soft glow in her gaze—soothing, gentle, and impossible to resist.

The fierceness in Shang Ranzhu’s eyes faded instantly. She turned her head away quickly.

Kids really do blush easily.

Watching the whole exchange, Liu Lihua couldn’t help smiling like a proud aunt. “What do you two want to eat?”

Shen Tingjun wasn’t familiar with the food around here. She nudged the still sulking Shang Ranzhu. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Me?” Shang Ranzhu was surprised to be included, staring at Shen Tingjun with wide eyes.

The afternoon sun at 2 p.m. was still shining strong, and golden rays lit up Shen Tingjun’s amber eyes, making them seem even more enchanting.

Shang Ranzhu almost lost focus but forced herself to stay calm. “Army stew. Xiao Ming wanted to try it.”

“Alright, I’ll go get it ready for you.” Liu Lihua nodded happily and left with the satisfaction of a matchmaker who’d just scored her first win.

“Xiao Ming?” Shen Tingjun softly repeated Chen Ming’s nickname, resting her chin in one hand while idly twirling the straw in her glass with the other, giving Chen Ming a curious look.

Her gaze was calm, like still water. However, Chen Ming felt uncomfortable under such close observation. She quickly responded, “Yeah?”

“How long have you known Shang Ranzhu?” Shen Tingjun asked.

“Almost twenty years. We grew up together,” Chen Ming answered.

“Oh…” Shen Tingjun lowered her long lashes and nodded thoughtfully.

Chen Ming had just relaxed a bit when Shen Tingjun asked again, “Childhood sweethearts?”

“Yeah, our families even arranged a marriage for us when we were kids,” Shang Ranzhu chimed in casually, treating it like a joke.

Chen Ming glanced at Shen Tingjun. She looked indifferent on the surface, but Chen Ming couldn’t shake the feeling that the calm in her eyes was just a facade—like a still lake that could swallow you whole.

Chen Ming forcefully swallowed. “But now, we’re merely allies.” Pure and solid.”

Shen Tingjun nodded, then leaned down to sip from her glass through the straw. That seemed to be the end of Chen Ming’s interrogation.

Soon, Liu Lihua came back carrying a beautiful Korean-style hotpot platter, full of all kinds of ingredients. She cheerfully directed Shang Ranzhu, “Come on, turn on the stove.”

Shang Ranzhu dropped the topic and went to help. “Okay,” she said, placing the hotpot on the induction stove in the center of the table. She reached under the table in front of Shen Tingjun.

Shen Tingjun leaned back cooperatively, pulling in her legs and watching curiously as Shang Ranzhu found the switch without even looking. She effortlessly turned on the stove and adjusted the heat.

Her hands were well-shaped, delicate, and pale. Her nails were painted a bright, glossy red—vivid and bold, just like her personality.

Shang Ranzhu noticed Shen Tingjun’s gaze on her hands. She caught Shen Tingjun lounging like a pampered lady waiting to be served and got annoyed. “What are you staring at? Never seen it before?”

Shen Tingjun shook her head. “Nope. Never.”

“You really are a rich girl, Miss Shen,” Shang Ranzhu muttered.

Shen Tingjun replied, “Not exactly rich.”

“Oh? I thought all the tabloids said your family owns mines in the Northeast.” Shang Ranzhu teased as she expertly fished out some half-softened instant noodles from the broth.

“We don’t have mines,” Shen Tingjun said absentmindedly, eyes still fixed on the bubbling hotpot full of colorful ingredients. It was her first time eating something like this—she was curious and intrigued.

Shang Ranzhu wasn’t surprised. After all, so many personas in the entertainment world were just PR packaging.

Looks like Shen Tingjun was no exception.

“But we do own a few oil fields. Pretty big ones,” Shen Tingjun added while picking up a piece of cheese rice cake and dropping it into her bowl.

“Cough—” Shang Ranzhu nearly choked on her noodles.

So the gossip mags had actually understated it?

Shen Tingjun passed her a glass of sparkling water and gently patted her back. “Slow down.”

Her touch was soft and careful. It instantly made Shang Ranzhu feel better, and she handed the glass back to Shen Tingjun.

Shen Tingjun took it without a word and calmly set it back on her side of the table. Only then did Shang Ranzhu realize—she’d drunk from Shen Tingjun’s cup again.

And just like that, the comfort vanished.

This incident marked the second indirect kiss they had in just two days.

Flustered, Shang Ranzhu quickly picked up her own glass of Coke and took a few big gulps, even crunching on a piece of ice to try to physically cool herself down.

Shen Tingjun watched the whole thing unfold, saying nothing, then quietly poured herself another glass of sparkling water.

Fresh mint leaves floated up through the dense bubbles, rising gently with the water level.

*****

The next day, the weather wasn’t great. Thick clouds blotted out the sun. It had drizzled a bit in the morning, but then the rain just stopped, leaving a heavy, stuffy pressure in the air. Even at noon, the sun looked worn out and dull.

Shang Ranzhu pulled into the parking lot just as a black Cayenne SUV also arrived.

She thought it was lucky to bump into a crew member right at the entrance. She honked twice in greeting. In the rearview mirror, the Cayenne blinked its headlights back, equally friendly.

In a good mood, Shang Ranzhu parked neatly beside the big SUV. Something about the Cayenne’s size made her feel oddly reassured.

She got out of the car and politely greeted the person stepping out, “Are you here alone too? Want to go find the director together?”

The owner of the Cayenne stepped out slowly. First came a head of silky, jet-black hair—which already gave Shang Ranzhu a bad feeling. Then Shen Tingjun’s ever-familiar face appeared.

She tilted her head and looked at Shang Ranzhu. Her mist-blue satin dress hugged her figure perfectly. She leaned lightly against the car door, exuding charm. A sly smile curled at the corners of her eyes.

“Sure,” she said. “Just give me a second.”