Her Pheromones Smell Like Sparkling Water (GL) - Chapter 25

“No need. Xiao Yu’s here; that’s enough,” Shen Tingjun rejected her flatly.

“But she’s here all alone. I don’t feel at ease,” Chen Qiangwei pressed, still trying to insist.

Shen Tingjun softened her tone just a little, but her stance remained firm. “Qiangwei, you’ve been running around all day too. Go back and get some rest.”

The assistant could clearly tell—Shen Tingjun didn’t want Chen Qiangwei to stay. But Chen Qiangwei refused to back down. “I’m not tired…”

Just as she was saying that, there was a knock at the door.

The assistant felt like she’d been saved. Finally, someone to break this awkward situation, and she hurriedly opens the door.

Standing there was Shang Ranzhu, holding a small gift box tied with a pretty ribbon. Her smile was radiant and bright as the sun.

The assistant looked at Chen Qiangwei sitting by the bed, then at Shang Ranzhu standing at the door.

Damn it. It’s a war zone now.

“What’s wrong?” Shang Ranzhu noticed the assistant’s odd expression and glanced inside—only to lock eyes with Chen Qiangwei, who had turned around.

In that instant, sparks flew.

“What brings Miss Shang here?” Chen Qiangwei spoke in a hostess-like tone, sitting by Shen Tingjun’s bedside without any intention of getting up.

Shang Ranzhu looked at her, and for no reason at all, a sense of hostility rose in her chest.

Just like Chen Qiangwei disliked her at first glance, Shang Ranzhu felt exactly the same toward her.

“What, I can’t come visit Miss Shen now?”

“It’s already dark out. Aren’t you disturbing her rest?” Chen Qiangwei asked.

“Well, aren’t you doing the same, Scriptwriter Chen?” Shang Ranzhu set the box down casually and retorted without backing down.

Chen Qiangwei let out a soft laugh, her voice dripping with pride. “My relationship with Tingjun is different from yours. I’m staying to take care of her.”

Shang Ranzhu’s brows furrowed slightly, and a wave of jealousy bubbled up inside her.
She finally realized where her hostility toward Chen Qiangwei came from.

This woman… also had feelings for Shen Tingjun.

They had known each other since debut. There had even been rumors about them.

If Shen Tingjun didn’t return her feelings, fine. But if they did like each other…

Then whatever Shang Ranzhu was feeling—it hadn’t even gotten the chance to begin, and it was already doomed.

She turned to Shen Tingjun, needing to hear it from her. “Is that true, Teacher Shen?”

Shen Tingjun felt a bit helpless. She was fully aware of Chen Qiangwei’s feelings—had been for years. But she’d always kept their relationship friendly and safely platonic. That’s all it could ever be.

“No. Before you came, I was saying that with Xiao Yu here, there’s no need for anyone else to stay.”

Chen Qiangwei had assumed that saying such a thing in front of someone else would pressure Shen Tingjun into going along with it. But she had still been turned down—and worse, the answer was directed at Shang Ranzhu.

Her expression darkened. Her eyes brimmed with thinly veiled hostility toward Shang Ranzhu.

The assistant could sense a whole room full of unspoken grievances. She peeked at Chen Qiangwei—technically, it was Shang Ranzhu who was the outsider. And yet, somehow, she was the one who looked like the third wheel caught between them.

And to think—before Shang Ranzhu showed up, she’d happily shipped Shen Tingjun and Chen Qiangwei herself.

“I still think it’s best I stay,” Chen Qiangwei insisted.

Shang Ranzhu rolled her eyes, completely fed up. She walked over, pulled Chen Qiangwei up by the arm, and said, “Oh come on, Scriptwriter Chen—what, do you think Miss Shen is five years old and can’t take care of herself?”

“Can you stop making decisions for other people?” Chen Qiangwei retorted coldly. “You might be at ease, but I’m not. We’re not the same, okay?”

She said it like she and Shen Tingjun shared something no one else could touch—something Shang Ranzhu could never compare to.

Shang Ranzhu looked at her and almost laughed out loud.

Yes, the two of them were different.
She knew that Shen Tingjun was an Omega.
Did Chen Qiangwei, this clueless little Beta, know that?

She didn’t feel like arguing anymore. Instead, she shot back, “Then don’t make decisions for Miss Shen either, okay? She already said she doesn’t want you to stay.”

“You—!” Chen Qiangwei was left speechless.

Truthfully, Shang Ranzhu had wanted to stay longer, maybe chat with Shen Tingjun a bit more. But with this clingy piece of gum still stuck here, she figured Shen Tingjun wouldn’t be able to rest properly.

So she took a deep breath, made a noble sacrifice, and linked arms with Chen Qiangwei. “Alright, let’s go, Scriptwriter Chen. I’ll drive you home.”

Chen Qiangwei wanted to resist, but Shang Ranzhu—being an Alpha—was just too strong. The way she pulled her along made Chen Qiangwei feel like a helpless chick.

At the door, she turned around and clung on one last time. “Tingjun, get plenty of rest. I’ll head out now.”

Shang Ranzhu also turned and gave Shen Tingjun a cheeky wink. “We’re off, Miss Shen. Sleep well.”

Her eyes sparkled like the stars outside—bright, radiant, and full of mischief.

Shen Tingjun couldn’t help but press her lips into a faint smile. She looked at Shang Ranzhu and said, “Alright. Be careful on the road.”

“I’ll message you when I get home!” Chen Qiangwei quickly added, beating Shang Ranzhu to it.

Shang Ranzhu snorted and followed up, “Me too.”

Shen Tingjun still wore that soft smile on her face as she nodded. “Okay.”

The room instantly fell into silence. A little too quiet.

Shen Tingjun glanced around and asked, “Did Shang Ranzhu leave empty-handed?”

The assistant blinked. She remembered Shang Ranzhu had brought something in—a box?

She quickly scanned the room and finally spotted the small box on the table near the entrance.

“This is what she brought,” she said, picking it up.

“What is it?” Shen Tingjun asked.

“…Cream cake,” the assistant said with a forced smile as she looked at the beautifully packaged dessert in her hands. Shen Tingjun had always preferred bitter flavors—she never ate anything sweet.

What the assistant didn’t expect was for Shen Tingjun to tap on her bedside table and say, “Take it out.”

The assistant was full of question marks. She asked cautiously, “But it’s already eight in the evening?” Don’t you usually avoid high-calorie food at night?”

Shen Tingjun nodded, paused, then calmly replied,
“Still, if we don’t eat it today, it’ll go bad, right?”

“We have a mini fridge; it should be fine…”

As the assistant spoke, she caught Shen Tingjun’s kind look—and immediately shuddered. She promptly and respectfully took the cake out of the box, placed it on a plate, laid out the fork and knife, and set it in front of Shen Tingjun.

Shen Tingjun picked up the fork and examined the pink cake decorated with a cartoon cat. She clicked her tongue softly.

“What’s wrong, Miss Shen?” the assistant asked, picking up on the note of dissatisfaction in her voice.

Staring at the white kitten lazily lying on a pink rose atop the cake, Shen Tingjun muttered disdainfully,
“This cake is so childish.”

The assistant disagreed. She’d actually fallen in love with the cake the moment she took it out—it was the trendy low-fat dessert that had gone viral online.
“This is called ‘cute aesthetic.’”

“You kids these days all like this kind of thing?” Shen Tingjun asked curiously.

The assistant nodded. “After all, who can resist something adorable?”

Shen Tingjun glanced again at the little white cat on the cake—its round, obedient eyes did bear a bit of resemblance to Shang Ranzhu. It really was… kind of endearing.

She used the silver fork to gently lift a small bite of the cake and brought it to her lips. Her glossy red lips moved slightly as she tasted it. The cream melted in her mouth, laced with a hint of lemon. It wasn’t too sweet—just enough to bring to mind a familiar scent.

The scent of a certain little one’s pheromones.
“…Little wildcat.”

The assistant didn’t catch what Shen Tingjun had muttered and noticed she hadn’t gone for a second bite. Thinking it was like the usual—one taste, then discard—she reached out and offered,
“If you don’t like it, I can eat it for you.”

Shen Tingjun looked at her, then gently swatted her hand away.
“Did I say I didn’t like it?”

“…” 

The assistant awkwardly pulled her hand back. She’d only been away from Shen Tingjun for a few days, but somehow, she felt like her boss had become more unpredictable.

Shen Tingjun cast a glance at her sulking assistant while preparing for a video call.
“I’m going to call my mother. Step out for a bit.”

The assistant understood. Shen Tingjun always made family calls in private. She poured some hot water and quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.

The hallway outside the hospital room was silent at this hour. Not knowing where to go, the assistant huddled in her little winter jacket by a window with a good view, taking in the nightscape.

In the distance, headlights swept across the plaza. The dim lighting made it hard to tell what kind of car it was, but it seemed to turn in the direction of the hotel where the crew was staying.

The assistant instinctively thought it might be Shang Ranzhu and Chen Qiangwei, but considering they’d left over twenty minutes ago, that didn’t quite make sense.

Still, she didn’t dwell on it. The coldness of the northeastern night seemed to freeze time. Holding a hot water bottle, she gazed into the distance.

The stars in the sky looked like they were frozen in place, no longer twinkling. Above her was a stretch of glittering galaxy. It was the first time she’d seen such a beautiful night sky. She raised her phone and snapped a few pictures to send to her Alpha girlfriend.

She hadn’t been wrong—that car was Shang Ranzhu’s. The two of them had gotten lost in the empty, echoing underground parking lot. Shang Ranzhu said west, Chen Qiangwei said east—neither would give in, so they ended up circling around for over ten minutes before finally driving out.

Chen Qiangwei glared at Shang Ranzhu’s icy face in the rearview mirror, clearly still annoyed.
“Are you always this stubborn, Miss Shang? I really don’t know how Tingjun put up with you these past few months.”

Shang Ranzhu let out a cold laugh. “I’m not stubborn by default—it depends on the person. Unlike you, Scriptwriter Chen, whose personality is… surprisingly versatile. No wonder you write good scripts.”

Chen Qiangwei crossed her arms, pridefully saying, “That’s because I have principles. I always put the matter first, not the person.”

“Oh? Could’ve fooled me,” Shang Ranzhu retorted.

Chen Qiangwei gave a huff. “With your attitude toward me, if I were really someone who put people before issues, do you think I would’ve let you play Chun Ming?”

Shang Ranzhu glanced back at her. As much as she hated to admit it, Chen Qiangwei’s point was fair, and her tone, for once, had softened a little.
“I like that answer.”

Still holding her arrogant pose, Chen Qiangwei continued, “Let me give you a word of advice, Miss Shang. This time, you were reckless—getting into a fight—and Tingjun had to cover for you. Next time, she might not be able to.”

Shang Ranzhu froze. The green light ahead suddenly switched to red without a countdown. She hit the brakes just in time, and then she turned to Chen Qiangwei, startled. 

“What did you just say?”

Cover for her? Shen Tingjun had never even mentioned it.

“Heavens, trying to kill me?” Chen Qiangwei yelped as she was thrown forward into the seat and hit her forehead.

“Sorry about that, Scriptwriter Chen,” Shang Ranzhu apologized first—but quickly pressed on,
“When exactly did Teacher Shen cover for me?”

Rubbing her forehead, Chen Qiangwei explained impatiently, “Don’t act clueless. Do you know who you punched yesterday? That was the investor’s nephew. They wanted to replace you—or else pull their funding entirely. It was Tingjun who stood up for you, fought back against the investors, and insisted on keeping you in the role.”

Shang Ranzhu furrowed her brows and gripped the steering wheel tighter. She had no idea she’d caused such a mess.

Seeing her look guilty, Chen Qiangwei relented a bit. “Don’t beat yourself up. You’re forgetting Tingjun is the heiress of Starchaser Media. This is her turf. Stuff like this is easy for her to handle.”

Even so, Shang Ranzhu couldn’t shake the guilt. Yes, it had been a forced move, but still—she’d caused the production such big trouble, and Shen Tingjun, who was supposed to be resting in the hospital, had to step in for her.

*****

The next day, after wrapping up her scenes, Shang Ranzhu went to the hospital and brought another cake.
This time, to celebrate Shen Tingjun’s discharge—and to express her gratitude.

Knock knock.
Shang Ranzhu stood nervously outside Shen Tingjun’s suite and knocked twice on the door.

A moment later, it opened.

It was Shen Tingjun herself. The room must’ve been cozy with the heater on, because she was only wearing a loose white T-shirt—just long enough to cover the tops of her thighs. Her creamy white legs were completely bare, unguarded, and right in Shang Ranzhu’s line of sight.

Shang Ranzhu’s throat tightened. The world around her felt suddenly far too loud.