Her Pheromones Smell Like Sparkling Water (GL) - Chapter 14

Tonight’s rooftop hotpot gathering felt a little different.

Director Xu Yiren, who was usually the most unrestrained, had suddenly become very well-behaved. There was no drinking and no jokes. Director Xu Yiren demonstrated good behavior.

Shen Tingjun and Shang Ranzhu were seated directly across from him. Either of them just needed to throw a glance in his way, and he’d be shaking in his boots. If he got drunk and accidentally let slip what he saw earlier, or maybe even just joked about it, there would be a bit of trouble for him.

This time next year would probably be the one-year anniversary of his untimely death.

“Hey, why are you so quiet today, Old Xu?” The assistant director suddenly slapped his bony shoulder with a heavy hand.

Xu Yiren cleared his throat and explained, “I’m trying out a new calm and mature vibe.”

“Oh, get out of here with that! Calm and mature? This morning you were bouncing around like a monkey on caffeine. “Mature’ my ass,” the assistant director snorted and shoved a cup of alcohol into his hand.

“What are you doing? I said, I’m not drinking today.” Xu Yiren tried to protest, but the way he was eyeing the cup totally gave him away.

His actions were both pathetic and hilarious.

The assistant director burst out laughing. His belly was wobbling as he clutched it. “Man, just drink it if you want to! Why all the drama? You’re killing me here.”

Xu Yiren cursed inwardly a thousand times.

Bro, we’ve known each other for years, and you still can’t tell when I’ve got a reason for acting weird? Even if you don’t know why, can’t you just play along when I’m obviously off?

He was about to be force-fed with the drink when Shen Tingjun set her chopsticks down and said calmly, “Director Xu is in his sensitivity period.”

“Didn’t you just finish your sensitivity period last week?” the assistant director asked in surprise.

“Well…” Xu Yiren knew Shen Tingjun had thrown him a lifeline, so he quickly caught it. “This time it’s unusually long. My hormones are really unstable.”

“Jeez, forty and your hormones are already out of whack?” the assistant director said with exaggerated pity.

“Maybe it’s an age thing,” Shen Tingjun added.

“Oh man, Xu, you’ve been holding it in too long,” the assistant director teased. “I told you already—let that one go. Omega cuties are everywhere these days!”

Xu Yiren’s eyes twitched. So this wasn’t a lifeline—it was a trap. He rushed to salvage what little dignity he had left. “What do you mean ‘holding it in’? Don’t talk nonsense.”

“Hey, you said it yourself, you’re still a vir—” The assistant director had definitely had too much to drink. He didn’t care that there were ladies and Omega staff at the table—he was ready to blurt out everything.

But Xu Yiren was fast. In the nick of time, he lunged over and slapped a hand over the guy’s mouth, forcing him to swallow that last syllable.

Everyone around the table could guess what he was about to say, and the moment turned into an explosion of laughter. The atmosphere that was a bit subdued earlier, instantly lit up.

Shang Ranzhu remembered the last time Xu Yiren got drunk and rambled about the “little O” in his dreams. A little tipsy herself now, she suddenly tugged on Shen Tingjun’s arm, leaned in close to her ear, and whispered, “Do you know what his dream Omega looks like?”

Her breath was hot from the alcohol and brushed softly against Shen Tingjun’s ear, making her skin tingle and her heart skip. Shen Tingjun instinctively flinched and leaned slightly away, then asked in a gentle voice, “What?”

“He’s…” Shang Ranzhu paused for dramatic effect, eyes curving into a mischievous smile. “Tall, skinny, pale and soft—just like you.”

“Like me?” Shen Tingjun raised an eyebrow, amused.

Shang Ranzhu nodded, then as if struck by a sudden realization, added seriously, “Oh no, Shen-laoshi, you’d better be careful. He might transfer all that affection to you.”

“But I’m an Alpha,” Shen Tingjun reminded her.

Shang Ranzhu, now with her cheek resting in her palm, gave her a sideways glance, voice slurring slightly with drunken arrogance, “Yeah, but you’re a super weak Alpha.”

Definitely drunk now, Shang Ranzhu was saying whatever came to her mind.

Shen Tingjun’s face turned serious. She didn’t even bother replying to Ranzhu. She just poured herself a drink and gulped it in one go.

“Aww, don’t get all moody. Don’t ignore me,” Shang Ranzhu whined while tugging at her arm. “Didn’t I just say? I’ve got your back for life.”

Something warm and soft wrapped around Shen Tingjun’s heart. She looked at Shang Ranzhu’s earnest expression, and although part of her told her that this was just the rambling of a drunk kid—

This time, she wanted to believe it.

Shang Ranzhu straightened up, sitting tall and proud like a boss, and declared, “Call me jiejie (sister). Come on, say it!”

“Jiejie?” Shen Tingjun didn’t look annoyed at all. In fact, there was a glint of amusement in her eyes and her lips were curving in a teasing smile.

“Yeah, jiejie.” Shang Ranzhu knew she was being a brat, but she was dying to hear Shen Tingjun call her that.

Shen Tingjun licked her lips, the slight shimmer making them look like translucent cherry jello. Then, under Shang Ranzhu’s eager gaze, she leaned in. Her cool fingers brushed aside the hair covering Shang Ranzhu’s ear.

Her fingertips accidentally grazed Shang Ranzhu’s earlobe, sending an electric shiver through her body. Her heart pounded wildly, faster and faster, and suddenly the crowd around them disappeared—only Shen Tingjun remained in her vision.

Leaning close, Shen Tingjun’s breath was soft and warm against her ear and she whispered:

“Jiejie.”

And just like that—

The entire game changed.

Shang Ranzhu felt like she’d just been struck by lightning. Her heart pounded wildly, thudding against her chest with no rhythm—loud, heavy and chaotic.

Her earlobes turned a deep red, almost as if they were about to bleed. Shen Tingjun was clearly amused. She brushed her fingers lightly over them in a casual, offhand gesture—as though she hadn’t just set off a firework in Shang Ranzhu’s entire nervous system.

A tingling numbness spread through Shang Ranzhu’s ear. She didn’t know what Shen Tingjun was about to do next—nervous and anxious, afraid that she was about to get teased again.

But she also didn’t want to avoid it. In fact, a part of her was hoping Shen Tingjun would do something.

Anything at all.

Shen Tingjun glanced sideways at Shang Ranzhu. There was a smile flickering in her eyes, before reaching over and swapping out the alcohol near Shang Ranzhu’s elbow for a bottle of sparkling water. “No more drinking,” she said softly. “Jiejie can’t handle your pheromones.”

Shang Ranzhu flushed even harder. What on earth had she been expecting just now?

She was twenty years old, for heaven’s sake—how could she still get this flustered over a little pheromone tease?

Feeling mortified, she discreetly raised her wrist to sniff it, but couldn’t detect any sign of a scent leak. Confused, she looked up at Shen Tingjun. “But I didn’t release any pheromones.”

Shen Tingjun’s pupils dilated slightly.

She’d already been feeling something was off with her body tonight. Normally, she wasn’t especially sensitive to Alpha pheromones, but just now, she had distinctly picked up the scent of Shang Ranzhu’s… and even the assistant director’s.

She had assumed it was because the others were drunk.

But now it was clear—the problem was with her.

Or rather, with the new suppressant from the 16-series she had used for the first time today.

Suddenly, the world turned around. A faint flush crept over Shen Tingjun’s normally pale face, like it had been brushed by the passing wind.

It was a bad sign. She needed to leave—fast.

Trying to act casual, she muttered, “I think I’m actually a bit tipsy.”

She stood up as she spoke, but her legs suddenly gave out that she nearly collapsed.

Thankfully, Shang Ranzhu reacted quickly and caught her. “Shen-laoshi, let me take you back.”

“I can manage,” Shen Tingjun insisted, waving her off. “You should stay and enjoy the party.”

“Are you kidding me?” Shang Ranzhu frowned. “You’re clearly not okay.”

Without giving Shen Tingjun a chance to argue, she took her hand and started to lead her away. Shen Tingjun, already struggling to stay upright and was too overwhelmed by the alcohol—or maybe the pheromones to resist.

But the moment their hands touched, something felt… off.

A strange current passed between them. Shang Ranzhu quickly pulled her hand away. She was flustered, and  she opted to hold Shen Tingjun’s wrist instead.

Her wrist was even slimmer than Shang Ranzhu’s—delicate, but not sickly. She was slender with just the right amount of softness.

The kind of physique you could only describe as: just enough where it counts, not an ounce extra where it doesn’t.

Shang Ranzhu couldn’t help recalling the day they rehearsed the scene when Shen Tingjun wore a cheongsam.

Elegant and quiet, like a stalk of bamboo in a deep forest.

She quickly excused themselves from the group and half-dragged Shen Tingjun back.

The walk back didn’t feel nearly as scary as before. It was still dark, sure—but with someone by her side, the fear didn’t run quite as deep.

By the time they reached the fourth floor, Shen Tingjun’s senses were in overdrive. Her sensitivity to pheromones had skyrocketed. Even though Shang Ranzhu hadn’t released a single wisp of scent, Shen Tingjun could still catch the lingering traces of cream on her skin.

It felt like being trapped inside a cloyingly sweet strawberry cake—suffocating in its stickiness and drowning in desire. But thanks to the suppressant, her own scent remained locked inside her body, unable to escape.

The resulting pressure she felt was unbearable. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead as she leaned against the railing and tugging Shang Ranzhu to a stop. “I need a minute,” she said breathlessly.

The hallway was dead silent.

Shen Tingjun’s breathing echoed in the air—the only sound between them.

Shang Ranzhu while holding her wrist, noticed how violently her pulse was pounding. “Shen-laoshi, what’s wrong?”

Shen Tingjun dug her nails into her own palm, forcing herself to stay grounded. “I’m just a little drunk,” she lied. “I can’t handle too much alcohol.”

“Then stop trying to push through,” Shang Ranzhu said, crouching down. “Come on, I’ll carry you.”

Shen Tingjun shook her head, using the last of her strength to push Ranzhu away. “Go back,” she whispered. “When I’m drunk… I get extra sensitive to pheromones.”

Shang Ranzhu stumbled back from the force of the push, her chest was aching from where Shen Tingjun had hit her. She was annoyed.

She was just about to snap back when she looked up—and saw Shen Tingjun walking alone down the dim hallway and her silhouette was swallowed by the dark.

And suddenly, something in Shang Ranzhu’s chest twisted painfully.

Was it always like this for her?

After every party, every banquet—was she always the one quietly enduring the onslaught of repulsive pheromones, walking away alone because no one could be by her side?

She had climbed so high, stood in the spotlight, and yet… she was utterly alone.

If only someone could walk with her.

If only she could walk with her.

That thought alone was enough to make Shang Ranzhu chase after Shen Tingjun “Shen-laoshi! I’ll keep my pheromones completely under control, I promise—please, don’t push me away.”

Shen Tingjun said nothing. She just continued walking down.

Shang Ranzhu wasn’t the patient type, but in this moment, she summoned all the gentleness she had. “Please wait for me. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself anymore. Let me stay with you. I won’t let anything hurt you again.”

The more she spoke, the faster Shen Tingjun walked—heels clacking out of sync like she was fleeing from something.

She still didn’t trust Shang Ranzhu. She was afraid. Afraid of being seen through, of having her secrets exposed.

For once, Shang Ranzhu’s body couldn’t keep up with her heart. She watched helplessly as Shen Tingjun walked farther and farther away. “Shen Tingjun!” she shouted. “Why won’t you believe me?!”

“I can protect you! I’m not some kid anymore!”

That was when Shen Tingjun froze.

She turned slowly. Her eyes lifted to meet the girl standing a few steps above her—burning like a wildfire in the dark, brilliant but trying desperately to dim her flames so she wouldn’t hurt the one she cared about.

Until this moment, Shen Tingjun had always thought of Shang Ranzhu as a little girl.

But now, she saw something else—something solid and dependable. A grown Alpha who could stand her ground.

She let her guard fall.

Stretching out her hand, she whispered, “Shang Ranzhu… come hold my hand.”