Her Pheromones Smell Like Sparkling Water (GL) - Chapter 16

Zhu Lin looked into Shen Tingjun’s deep black eyes and felt a jolt of unease in her heart. Then, a gust of wind blew the cloud away from the sun, and the sunlight once again filled the training room. Shen Tingjun’s eyes regained their golden luster, as if the earlier tension had never existed.

“Tingjun, you’re here. Feeling better?” Xu Yiren called out from afar, breaking the odd silence between the three of them as she walked over.

“Much better,” Shen Tingjun replied.

“If you haven’t been feeling well, lay off the spicy food. Diarrhea’s no joke,” Xu Yiren teased.

“Mm. Thanks to Shang Ranzhu,” Shen Tingjun said, knowing Shang Ranzhu had made up that excuse for her, so she simply went along with it and glanced over at Ranzhu.

As usual, her eyes were once again calm and detached. If Shang Ranzhu hadn’t seen those seductive glints in her eyes last night with her own eyes, she’d never have believed that the normally cold and restrained Shen Tingjun could be so alluring.

“You two seem to get along well. That’s great.” Xu Yiren smiled meaningfully before reminding, “Tingjun needs to catch up on what she missed this afternoon.”

Shen Tingjun nodded. Her instructor was already waiting nearby. Since she needed to catch up quickly, she didn’t waste time and said. “I’ll head over.”

Shang Ranzhu stood obediently by Xu Yiren’s side and waved goodbye. As she watched Shen Tingjun’s graceful figure walk away, she suddenly called out, “Shen laoshi—”

“Mm?” Shen Tingjun paused and turned to look at her.

Shang Ranzhu didn’t even know why she called out to her. She pressed her lips together nervously and said awkwardly, “Good luck.”

The corners of Shen Tingjun’s lips lifted in a soft smile, and her eyes sparkled with fondness. “Alright, I’ll do my best, little one.”

Sunlight spilled unreservedly across Shen Tingjun’s face. Her skin was porcelain pale, almost glowing. Like an angel fallen from the sky—beautiful, pure, and captivating.

Shang Ranzhu stared at her, dazed. It wasn’t until Zhu Lin tugged at her arm several times that she finally heard, “Shang laoshi, shall we start too?”

Shang Ranzhu nodded absentmindedly and followed Zhu Lin back into training.

Even while trying to focus, she couldn’t help but sneak glances in Shen Tingjun’s direction—watching her practice, hand-in-hand with another coach, going through the moves the two of them were supposed to be doing together. She watched as Shen Tingjun gripped the coach’s wrist and executed a swift, sharp, and graceful move.

What would it be like if she were the one holding her waist right now?

That thought made Shang Ranzhu’s grip around Zhu Lin’s waist tighten.

The feel was… so off.

Zhu Lin’s waist was too firm—nothing like Shen Tingjun’s, which she now recalled as soft and resilient. Instinctively, her eyes drifted back toward Shen Tingjun again.

And so, during the entire training session, Zhu Lin was accidentally thrown several times. “Sorry,” Shang Ranzhu also repeated so many times. Zhu Lin, while wincing and nursing her bruised knees, finally called for a break.

“Shang laoshi, is there something on your mind?” Zhu Lin handed her a water bottle and sat beside her naturally.

“Thanks. I’m just a bit out of it, sorry.” Shang Ranzhu took the water, sipped lightly, and again glanced toward Shen Tingjun.

She was facing away, chatting with the coach. Had she finished learning the moves?

Was she going to come over and switch with Zhu Lin?

Shang Ranzhu began to hope—though she wasn’t the only one caught up in her thoughts.

Zhu Lin stared at Shang Ranzhu’s water-glossed lips, then subconsciously licked her own. With a tone that seemed to carry a hidden intent, she asked, “Shang-laoshi, we are about the same age, right? Can I call you jiejie?”

Shang Ranzhu paused. “What do you mean?”

“I just feel like calling you ‘laoshi’ sounds too distant,” Zhu Lin replied with an awkward laugh.

But Shang Ranzhu didn’t feel that way at all. She only saw Zhu Lin as a temporary partner, not someone worth forming a friendship with. There was no need for closeness.

Once Shen Tingjun caught up, she’d be working with her again anyway.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Shang Ranzhu said bluntly.

“But I really do see you as a sister,” Zhu Lin insisted, continuing to emphasize her point.

Shang Ranzhu’s eyes twitched. The atmosphere between them was starting to feel uncomfortably ambiguous.

Based on her years of experience being pursued, she could tell—this Zhu Lin seemed to be into her.

Putting on a professional smile, she reminded her, “But Zhu Lin, we’ve only known each other for less than a day.”

“But I’ve watched your movies before. You’re amazing—I really admire you, jiejie,” Zhu Lin said, her round eyes shining as she gazed at her with puppy-like adoration.

Shang Ranzhu’s throat tightened—not because she was moved, but because Zhu Lin’s expression reminded her of how Shen Tingjun had looked at her last night. Vulnerable, innocent—except Shen Tingjun had been even more heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Jiejie… okay?” Zhu Lin saw her stunned and thought her act was working, so she pushed harder.

However, Shang Ranzhu disliked ambiguous nonsense when interacting with people she did not know well. Zhu Lin’s behavior made her uncomfortable, and she rejected her outright: “Thank you, but no. Let’s just keep things professional—we’re nothing more than a work partnership.”

“Jiejie.” Zhu Lin called out again, her voice so sweet and sticky. It made her skin crawl.

Shang Ranzhu’s lips twitched as she scooted a little farther away from Zhu Lin.

Was no one going to take this person away?

Or maybe I could take her away.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, Shen Tingjun’s voice called her name from above. “Shang Ranzhu.”

Shang Ranzhu felt as though she had found a lifeline. She quickly turned her head toward the small corner where Shen Tingjun was and called out skillfully, “Ms. Shen.”

Watching Shang Ranzhu’s practiced reaction, Shen Tingjun’s eyes showed a hint of amusement. She raised her hand and beckoned. “Come rehearse with me.”

Seeing that Shang Ranzhu was about to leave, Zhu Lin quickly grabbed her arm. “But we haven’t finished practicing yet!”

Shen Tingjun frowned and was displeased—not just at Zhu Lin’s rudeness, but also because of how she suddenly clung to Shang Ranzhu’s arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Her voice had turned colder than before, and the whole atmosphere in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

Shen Tingjun walked straight up to Zhu Lin, locking eyes with her and said with a sharp tone. “Where are your professional boundaries as a martial arts coach?”

A wave of pressure swept over them, like a superior confronting someone way out of line.

“I… I just…” Zhu Lin realized she had stepped over the boundary. Guilt-ridden and nervous under Shen Tingjun’s gaze, she didn’t even dare to breathe too hard. She hesitantly let go of Shang Ranzhu’s arm. “Sorry, Ms. Shen.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me. I won’t comment on what happened, but I will report this to Coach Zhao. I recommend that you consider acknowledging your mistake first. If he sees that you’re honest and it’s your first time, maybe he’ll let you off without firing you.”

Shen Tingjun laid everything out in a calm, emotionless voice, just as she always did.

Zhu Lin was still biting her lip, her eyes red and pitiful, trying to win some sympathy from Shen Tingjun.

But if Shang Ranzhu wasn’t buying it, Shen Tingjun definitely wouldn’t either.

Shen Tingjun gave her a smile and asked back, “Do you have a better way to resolve this?”

Her smile looked kind and harmless, and her voice was soft like a spring breeze. She didn’t even release a single hint of her Alpha pheromones.

However, her words were precise, leaving no space for resistance.

Zhu Lin realized she had no advantage at all. Her thick brows drooped in frustration as she walked away, clearly angry yet helpless.

“Ms. Shen, that was amazing,” Shang Ranzhu said cheerfully now that she’d finally gotten rid of the human leech. She waved happily at Zhu Lin’s retreating figure before turning back to Shen Tingjun; her face was glowing with relief.

“You’re an adult, you know. Could you please try to maintain some distance from Betas and Omegas? Shen Tingjun’s words were scolding, but her tone was far from harsh.

Shang Ranzhu pouted and gave her a slightly sulky look. “But I’ve got you, haven’t I, Ms. Shen?”

Shen Tingjun tilted her head slightly. “Me? Weren’t you the one who said you’d protect me? When did your promise to protect me change, little one?

Right—just yesterday, she was saying she’d be the big bro protecting Shen Tingjun. Now she was the one being protected like a sidekick.

Shang Ranzhu had no comeback. She awkwardly scratched her head. “Uh…”

Shen Tingjun chuckled softly while her long lashes cast faint shadows over her cheeks. She leaned in slightly and whispered in Shang Ranzhu’s ear, “But still, thank you—for protecting me last night.”

It was the first time Shang Ranzhu had ever heard Shen Tingjun’s voice this close while she was fully conscious. That voice felt like sunlight breaking through a winter gloom—warm, soft, and comforting.

Trying to shake off the stirrings in her heart, Shang Ranzhu replied a bit awkwardly, “Your heat was kind of scary, Ms. Shen.”

Shen Tingjun nodded. “Yeah, I’m almost thirty. That’s around the age when heats start getting harder to control.”

“Don’t most Alphas your age already have an Omega partner?” Shang Ranzhu asked, pushed by a voice in her heart. “Do you have someone you like, Ms. Shen?”

Shen Tingjun didn’t answer. She leaned against the wall. It was like she was thinking… or maybe studying her.

The silence caught Shang Ranzhu off guard. Her heart tightened, hoping for an answer, yet also scared to hear a name that wasn’t hers.

The thought made her feel sour for no reason.

“Does it have to be an Omega?” Shen Tingjun finally said, her voice was light. “Can’t I like an Alpha too?”

Those words landed softly on Shang Ranzhu’s heart. Relief washed over her, and her eyes lit up like stars as she looked at Shen Tingjun.

Outside, the wind stirred, lifting the pure white curtains. The fabric fluttered around them, wrapping them in a private little world.

At that moment, it felt like only the two of them existed.

The golden afternoon sun cast its final light into the wide training room. Shang Ranzhu looked at Shen Tingjun’s thick lashes, now brushed with a warm shimmer. She looked almost holy.

Her heart raced—not just from the scene in front of her, but from Shen Tingjun’s words.

Something inside her was shifting, feelings becoming muddled and strange. She couldn’t quite explain it.

Shen Tingjun, amused, leaned quietly against the wall, watching Shang Ranzhu intently. A gust of wind passed, the curtains finally falling back into place, reluctantly ending the moment. The noise and mess of the practice room returned.

The two were still staring at each other, giving no attention to the rest of the world.

By the time Shang Ranzhu snapped back to reality, a solid rubber ball had already been thrown across the room—heading straight for Shen Tingjun’s temple.

“Tingjun! Watch out!” Xu Yiren’s voice rang from afar, shouting a warning just in time.

Shen Tingjun turned her head toward the noise—

—but before she could react, she felt a sudden weight crash into her, knocking her to the floor. Her head landed gently on someone’s hand.

That orange rubber ball rolled slowly away across the floor, disappearing from her view.

Someone had just shielded her from the blow.