Her Pheromones Smell Like Sparkling Water (GL) - Chapter 9

After getting upset at home, Shang Ranzhu showed up at Chen Ming’s place hugging a box of Liu Lihua’s homemade braised beef.

Chen Ming’s father had grown up with her father—they were childhood friends—and the bond between the two families went back even further than the age of their kids. Over the years, both sides got used to treating each other like extended family—sending food, gifts, and favors back and forth without ceremony.

Shang Ranzhu knocked on the Chen family’s front door. It was Chen Ming’s mother who answered—a tall, gentle, and graceful Omega.

Knowing she’d be home, Shang Ranzhu had purposely worn a black knee-length A-line dress, looking both elegant and well-behaved. “Hi, Auntie.”

“Ranzhu! You’re getting prettier every time I see you,” Chen’s mom praised generously, spotting the Tupperware in her hand and naturally taking it from her.

“My mom’s braised beef,” Shang Ranzhu said as she bent down to change shoes.

Chen’s mom placed the beef in the fridge, then grabbed a fruit platter. “Perfect timing. Bring the food upstairs for me, will you? Xiao Ming’s in her room.”

“Sure thing.” Shang Ranzhu took the platter and went up to the second floor.

Chen Ming’s door wasn’t locked. With one gentle push, the door swung open to reveal the chaos inside. Clothes and toys were scattered all over the carpet, with barely a spot to step on.

“Good grief. Did your closet explode?” Ranzhu frowned, carefully nudging aside a path with her foot.

“Oh please, I was just digging for something to wear to your audition yesterday.” Chen Ming patted the edge of the bed, unbothered. “Come sit.”

“You still talk about getting married, huh? Who’d want to marry you? What are they marrying into—an active war zone?” Shang Ranzhu complained while helping pick up empty boxes.

This girl was dangerous—an expert at shopping, a disaster at cleaning.

“Wait, leave that one,” Chen Ming said quickly. She wasn’t good at doing chores, but she was amazing at directing others.

Ranzhu glanced at the box in her hand, then casually tossed it aside.

“Hey! Be gentle! That’s one of my treasures.”

So much for being helpful. Ranzhu flopped down on the bed. “You clean it up yourself!”

Chen Ming knew she was upset and leaned in to sling an arm around her shoulders. She stuck her phone in front of Ranzhu’s face and said with a grin, “Ranzhu, let’s forget the mess for now. Look—you’re trending again.”

“Trending? For what?” Although Shang Ranzhu had a reputation for being a magnet for hate online, she hadn’t said or done anything recently. How was she still making the rounds?

#ShangRanzhuFollowedShenTingjun — sitting modestly at #38 on the trending list. Low-rank, organic heat.

Ranzhu stared at the hashtag, an uneasy twitch in her eyelid. “So… is this one praising me or dragging me?”

Chen Ming thought for a moment. “Half and half.”

Which meant… yeah, there was shade involved.

Things like Has Shang Ranzhu finally backed down?, Did she get burned and now knows better?, If only she’d realized sooner…

Just thinking about it made Ranzhu roll her eyes. She tossed the phone aside. “Then I’m not reading it.”

“Alright, alright.” Chen Ming lovingly rescued the phone from where it landed. It was brand new, after all.

“Still, the tone has shifted. People aren’t as hostile toward you anymore.”

“So?” Ranzhu raised a brow. She lived loud and bold—hardly the type to care about public opinion.

“Noso,” Chen Ming replied with her signature Chinglish (Chinese English), then flopped back on the bed. “Oh right, the promo post for Moonlight goes up at 1:00. Don’t forget to repost it.”

“Mm.” Ranzhu nodded and popped a wedge of watermelon into her mouth—one of the slices Auntie Chen had cut. It was too big for her small mouth, so her cheeks puffed out adorably like a hamster.

Even when she was a hamster, she was the most flirtatious hamster of all. Her lips, tinged pink with watermelon juice, shimmered with a glossy sheen, sweet and tempting.

Chen Ming couldn’t help swallowing hard at the sight. She gently poked Ranzhu’s back with her bare foot and muttered, “Can you turn off the charm, please?”

“You mean this charm?” Ranzhu smirked, suddenly getting mischievous. She leaned forward, with one hand on the low table and the other twirling a lock of hair beside her cheek. Her eyes sparkled with a sultry gleam as she zapped Chen Ming with an electric gaze.

Chen Ming couldn’t take it anymore. She threw a cushion in front of herself like a shield and shouted, “Why are you bullying me? If you’ve got guts, go charm Shen Tingjun instead!”

The moment Shen Tingjun’s name was mentioned, the light in Shang Ranzhu’s eyes intensified—not with seduction, but with fierce determination.

“Tell me, in what way am I worse than her?” she asked seriously. “Why does everyone like her?”

Chen Ming gave her a look from head to toe. There was no denying Shang Ranzhu was striking—bold features, a sharp nose bridge, and curves in all the right places. She was pure, unapologetic allure.

“Exactly.” Chen Ming suddenly had an epiphany. “You’re the sultry type. Shen Tingjun is the cool and aloof type. You two have completely different styles—there’s no real comparison. Additionally, the reasons behind fan preferences remain unclear. It’s all down to luck.”

Shang Ranzhu went quiet. At sixteen, she’d once made a wish to the heavens, trading all her luck in this life… just to be granted an Alpha’s body.

“Alright, I get it.”

Chen Ming nudged her with her foot again. “Hey, post the Weibo now.”

Ranzhu casually opened the app. At precisely 1:00, the Moonlight official account shared the cast announcement. Even though it was a dual-female-lead film, there was still a hierarchy—and it was clear from the wording that Shen Tingjun was the lead, while Ranzhu was the second lead.

Not even five minutes later, the comments section exploded.

“Didn’t they say Shen and Shang hated each other? Director, could you please confirm if this is accurate? Poor Miss Shen!”

“Wasn’t Shang Ranzhu the one who swore she’d never appear in the same frame as Shen Tingjun?”

“Didn’t Shen Tingjun say she’d stop accepting domestic films?”

*****

“These gossip eaters are fast,” Chen Ming couldn’t help but comment.

“Mm,” Shang Ranzhu replied half-heartedly, distracted while editing her Weibo post. She was trying to outdo Shen Tingjun even in the caption.

“What should I say?” she muttered.

Chen Ming, always on the front lines of celebrity gossip but never fully invested, casually offered a suggestion. “What else? Just tag Shen Tingjun and say, ‘Teacher Shen, looking forward to working with you.’”

“Too bland,” Ranzhu dismissed. This needed her personal touch.

As someone with an artistic soul—and a liberal arts student in high school—Shang Ranzhu typed out something poetic and pretentious:

“The moon on the sea is the same moon in the sky; the person before me is the one in my heart.”

Then she tagged Shen Tingjun.

It was so mushy, it gave her goosebumps.

But hey, promo is promo. Staying in character was preferable, as a little ambiguous flirtation never hurt, and the buzz was the most important factor.

Without even asking Chen Ming’s opinion, Ranzhu hit send with confidence.

The timing couldn’t have been better—1:14 PM.

Shang Ranzhu was very pleased with herself. She felt like this was the perfect model of how a promo post should be done. Just as she turned to boast to Chen Ming, Chen burst out into a goofy, full-on goose-honking laughter, springing up from the bed with a hand over her mouth.

“Are you insane?” Ranzhu stared at her in disgust.

“Wow, Ranzhu, do you even know what destiny is? This is it!” Chen Ming exclaimed, practically shoving her phone in Ranzhu’s face.

On the screen were two Weibo posts, stacked one on top of the other. The lower one was Ranzhu’s. The top one? Shen Tingjun’s.

They have the exact same quote:
“The moon on the sea is the same moon in the sky; the person before me is the one in my heart.”

Both posted at 1:14 PM.
1314.
A Chinese homophone for forever.

How could anyone not read into that?

Ranzhu’s face darkened like scorched coal. “Why doesn’t this kind of synchronicity happen when I wish Shen Tingjun would disappear?”

“This is a sign!” Chen Ming declared dramatically. “Even the heavens want you two together!”

“Can I delete it? Repost something else?” Ranzhu asked if she could undo the damage.

Chen Ming shook her head and held up her phone. “I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who took a screenshot.”

“So annoying.” Ranzhu collapsed onto Chen Ming’s bed. The incident was the second time today she’d muttered—thanks to Shen Tingjun.

The situation has become even more annoying now.

Trying to lift her mood, she patted Chen Ming on the shoulder. “Want to go get army stew?”

Chen Ming absentmindedly nodded, her eyes glued to her phone. She had just opened a new poll:
“Shen & Shang hate each other” vs. “Double Alpha doomed romance”—which are you rooting for?

As she followed Ranzhu downstairs, Chen Ming sneakily tapped her vote:
Double Alpha Doomed Romance.
Then, behind Ranzhu’s back, she left a comment:

“I love enemies-to-lovers stories where they fight and fall for each other!”

Just imagining that scenario had her grinning with delight.

“What are you smiling at?” Ranzhu asked, completely unaware of her friend’s betrayal while glancing at her in confusion.

Startled, Chen Ming quickly hid her phone in her pocket and made up an excuse. “I’m just excited for army stew!”

“Greedy little thing,” Ranzhu teased, laughing as she opened the door and stepped out of the Chen house.

Their neighborhood was close to Street A34—a ten-minute walk, tops. As they strolled, Chen Ming barely engaged in the conversation with Ranzhu because her eyes were locked on her screen, where likes were rolling in quickly. In just a few minutes, she’d racked up over fifty likes. She wasn’t at the top of the comment section, but she was visible.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one shipping this pairing.

Just as Chen Ming was feeling smug, a shadow fell over her. Looking up, she saw Shang Ranzhu glaring at her like she’d just been betrayed.

“Chen Ming?”

“What?” Chen Ming instinctively shielded her phone to her chest.

“I saw everything,” Ranzhu said flatly. “Just give it up. Turn yourself in.”

“How did you even see that?” Chen Ming genuinely thought her cover had been airtight.

Ranzhu didn’t say a word; she just gave her a meaningful look. Ultimately, she stood taller than Chen Ming. She held a significant advantage. Literally.

Chen Ming: I hate this.

“I just don’t get it,” Ranzhu grumbled. “Why does everyone think I’d make a good match with Shen Tingjun? We’re sworn enemies, okay? That cold fish face of hers—she looks like she’d be a total bore!”

As she spoke, she pushed open the door to her parents’ fried chicken joint.

It was a quiet time of day. Only a few scattered customers sat around the dining area of their chicken restaurant. In the most inconspicuous spot near the entrance, behind the door, there sat a woman in a white turtleneck sweater.

Her posture was straight, and her expression was calm. Her long lashes lifted slowly as her amber eyes met Shang Ranzhu’s.

Shen Tingjun was here.

The confident, aloof expression on Shang Ranzhu’s face cracked like broken porcelain. She gripped the door and quietly backed out.

She would bet her entire Alpha persona that Shen Tingjun had definitely heard what she just said.

“What’s the matter? Chickening out?” Chen Ming, oblivious to Ranzhu’s hesitation, stepped past her and boldly swung the door open. She shoved her inside before Ranzhu could explain a thing, following right behind her.

The whole motion was so quick and smooth, and Ranzhu didn’t even have time to react.

Inside, Shen Tingjun sat calmly in her seat, stirring the ice in her glass with the straw in slow, elegant circles. She looked toward the two girls at the door with unshakable patience.

Chen Ming finally understood why Ranzhu had hesitated to go in.

Shen Tingjun gave them a soft smile. “What a coincidence.”

Chen Ming: I messed up.

Shang Ranzhu: …