I Marked My Arch-Nemesis Omega - Chapter 24

“Thanks.” Song Qing took it and took a sip.

“So, what are you doing in the office so late?” Sheng Yu asked.

Song Qing ran her fingers over the bottle in her hand. “Finishing up some student council work. Didn’t I penalize a lot of people on Thursday? So there’s a lot to handle.”

“Oh.” Sheng Yu didn’t press further. Though Song Qing didn’t say it, she knew—this person had probably still checked the surveillance footage. “Focus on the movie.”

Song Qing had originally sat here hoping to learn more about Sheng Yu’s preferences, so she could find other topics to talk about in the future.

She never expected Sheng Yu to enjoy this kind of movie. And she certainly never imagined that someone would actually invest in filming something like this.

The title alone was something she’d never heard of—Does She Love Me or Her?—already suffocating just from the name, and the plot was even worse.

A and B fell in love and had a child, C. Then C fell in love with D, whose mother, E, was A’s ex-girlfriend. E had divorced her partner years ago. Upon realizing D looked strikingly like A, E developed feelings for C during their interactions and even seduced C, leading to C having a child with her. When D found out, D went to confront A…

The relationships grew increasingly convoluted, leaving Song Qing utterly dumbfounded. She glanced sideways at Sheng Yu.

Sheng Yu’s face was expressionless—whether out of speechlessness or genuine absorption in the film, it was hard to tell.

“Tch, that money might as well have gone to me,” Sheng Yu muttered, then noticed Song Qing giving her a strange look. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You… like this kind of movie?” Song Qing hesitated as she asked, suddenly questioning whether her own taste had taken a wrong turn somewhere.

“Absolutely,” Sheng Yu replied with a mocking smile. “It’s a great reminder of how easy it is to make money in this world. Motivates me to believe that buying a spaceship and living in a manor isn’t just a dream.”

Song Qing: “…”

“Do you want to make movies?” Song Qing asked.

Sheng Yu’s tone was utterly sincere. “No. I just like money.”

“Well, I doubt anyone dislikes that,” Song Qing said dryly, the corner of her mouth twitching.

When the movie ended, Song Qing couldn’t quite articulate her feelings—just an overwhelming sense of discomfort, as if she’d completely wasted two hours of her life. She had never seen anything so mind-numbingly dull, melodramatic, and brainless.

“Let’s sleep,” Sheng Yu said, glancing at Song Qing’s ashen face and chuckling. “If it was that unbearable, why did you keep watching?”

Song Qing replied, “What if I left and you thought I was walking out because I couldn’t stand you?”

Sheng Yu: “…”

“Sleep.” Sheng Yu turned her head away, spat out the word, then got up to check on the kitten.

The kitten had already finished its food and was curled up in its bed, looking utterly well-behaved.

Sheng Yu carefully closed the door and called Song Qing back to the room.

The bed here wasn’t particularly large, but it was enough for two people.

Song Qing rarely shared a bed with anyone—she wasn’t used to it. Lying beside Sheng Yu, she occupied only a small corner, leaving a noticeable gap between them.

She turned her head to look at Sheng Yu, whose breathing was steady, likely already asleep. And… Sheng Yu’s sleeping posture was incredibly unrestrained, taking up two-thirds of the bed.

Song Qing sighed. In the brief moment it took her to exhale, Sheng Yu had already inched closer, seemingly intent on taking over the entire bed.

She began to wonder why Sheng Yu had invited her to stay over in the first place. Did this person genuinely not realize they rolled all over the bed while sleeping?

Song Qing glanced at Sheng Yu again, who had now edged right up beside her. At this rate, she’d soon be pushed right off the bed. With a resigned sigh, Song Qing rubbed her temples.

But then, something felt off.

A peculiar scent wafted from Sheng Yu—strange at first, but upon closer sniffing, the air only carried the fragrance of shower gel. Yet the faint trace she’d caught earlier seemed more like… pheromones.

Within seconds, she no longer needed to question it. She was certain—it was the scent of pheromones.

Her body temperature began to rise, though she didn’t experience any adverse reactions yet, likely because Sheng Yu hadn’t fully presented. Propping herself up on the bed, she studied Sheng Yu.

She’d never heard of an Alpha releasing pheromones before their glands were fully developed.

Moreover, as her body temperature climbed, Song Qing started feeling a throbbing headache—deeply uncomfortable.

Sheng Yu didn’t look well either. Her brows were furrowed, her expression pained, her face pale. A few seconds later, her eyes fluttered open.

The pheromones vanished in an instant, so abruptly that Song Qing wondered if she’d imagined it.

Sheng Yu startled. Waking up in the middle of the night to find someone sitting beside her, staring, was unsettling.

“Why aren’t you asleep? What are you looking at me like that for?” Sheng Yu rubbed her temples, her voice hoarse.

Song Qing hesitated for two seconds. “Are you about to present?”

Sheng Yu frowned. “I don’t feel anything. Why?”

“By the way, what secondary gender do you want to present as?”

“Beta,” Sheng Yu replied.

“Why? Most people prefer Alpha or Omega.”

“Simple and steady is best.” Sheng Yu closed her eyes, realizing she’d pushed Song Qing to the edge of the bed, and quietly shifted back to her side. Meeting Song Qing’s gaze, she asked nonchalantly, “Why bring this up now?”

“You just… released pheromones. And you looked like you were in pain.”

“You must’ve imagined it. How could I release pheromones before presenting?” Sheng Yu sniffed herself—only the overpowering strawberry scent of her shower gel lingered.

“If nothing’s wrong, you’ll probably be an Alpha. I’ll need to check some references—I’ve never heard of anyone releasing pheromones early.” Song Qing added, “Once you present as an Alpha, you’ll move to Class 1… and you’ll probably grow taller too.”

Sheng Yu sat up abruptly, locking eyes with Song Qing. “You definitely imagined it,” she insisted, her tone firm.

Song Qing stared at her, taken aback. If her body hadn’t reacted, she might’ve doubted herself. But physiological responses didn’t lie.

“You… but once you present, you won’t be able to hide it,” Song Qing said.

“This is my own business,” Sheng Yu said expressionlessly. “Besides, you can’t be sure right now, can you? It’s just a scent.”

For a moment, Sheng Yu found it hard to accept the situation.

The room was dark, and Song Qing noticed that Sheng Yu now seemed somewhat unfamiliar—more distant than before, as if all the hidden thorns had suddenly surfaced.

Involuntarily, Song Qing thought of Sheng Yu’s cat, which appeared easy to deceive but had always been wary of everyone around it.

The two stared at each other for a long time.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean any harm,” Song Qing said. She didn’t understand why Sheng Yu was so sensitive, but there was likely a reason she wasn’t aware of, and she couldn’t press further. “I’ll sleep on the couch outside.”

“I’ll go,” Sheng Yu replied without waiting for Song Qing’s response, grabbing her blanket and walking out.

Song Qing watched as Sheng Yu closed the door behind her, then lay back on the bed, her mind blank. Any drowsiness she had felt earlier was now completely gone. She glanced around Sheng Yu’s room.

It was clearly a temporary living space—sparsely furnished, with an empty desk save for two books. Curious, she got up to take a look.

Reading the titles, Song Qing’s lips twitched slightly.

First book: As an Alpha, I Can’t Live Without Her
Second book: She Haunts My Dreams But Doesn’t Love Me

Song Qing: “…”

And she still claims she doesn’t like that kind of movie? Clearly, it’s right up her alley. Who would’ve thought Sheng Yu’s taste leaned toward this kind of material?

Song Qing had no interest in flipping through them and lay back down. She glanced at the door again, tempted to check on Sheng Yu but didn’t dare.

Standing by the window, Sheng Yu held her tablet, scrolling through its contents with a serious expression. Though she had always avoided thinking about this, she now had to face it. She still preferred to believe Song Qing had misidentified the scent—she had none of the typical pre-differentiation symptoms.

Her reasons for not wanting to be an Alpha or Omega weren’t particularly complicated.

Her mother harbored extreme hatred for Alphas and disdain for Omegas. Moreover, based on what she had witnessed during a certain period in her life, only Betas could avoid the troubles she had seen—Alphas and Omegas faced endless complications.

She didn’t want to change anything. She knew her limits—she wasn’t powerful enough, and some things couldn’t be altered by one person alone. She also had no intention of risking her current peaceful life for something so uncertain.

No matter how messed up the world was, it had nothing to do with her. She just needed to take care of herself.

According to online Alpha differentiation guides, there was no mention of pre-differentiation pheromone release. Typically, scent glands only developed odors on the day of differentiation.

Additionally, most people experienced sensations a month before differentiation—a feeling of gland growth. But Sheng Yu had none of that. She touched the back of her neck, reading the tablet’s instructions.

“Above the bone at the back of your neck, it may feel like something new is forming. It’s not visible externally, but you can feel it when touched. If you detect this, it means your scent gland is already developing.”

Sheng Yu: “???”

She couldn’t help but want to swear. What had she just touched? When exactly had it grown? Why hadn’t she felt anything at all? Weren’t there supposed to be adverse reactions when it started developing? Her body had shown no changes whatsoever during this time.

Sheng Yu took a deep breath.

Great. Since she had no idea when her gland had started growing, she couldn’t even estimate when she would undergo differentiation. That meant she couldn’t prepare in advance.

So Song Qing really had smelled her pheromones!

Sheng Yu searched for more information, trying to learn how to determine her current stage by feeling the gland. But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t figure it out. Exhausted, she thought—why hadn’t she noticed it while showering? Though even if she had, she probably would’ve just assumed she’d gained weight.

Leaning against the wall, she felt incredibly frustrated.

Song Qing had smelled her pheromones just now, which meant she was unconsciously leaking them. Thankfully, she was in a Beta class—Betas weren’t as sensitive to pheromones, and the kind emitted before differentiation likely wouldn’t be detectable by most people anyway.

Sheng Yu sat down on the floor, taking another deep breath to calm herself.

According to the books, on the day of formal differentiation, discomfort would start three hours in advance. But her situation was different from everyone else’s. She had no idea if she’d experience the same warning signs, but she still needed to find a completely secluded spot at school—somewhere she could retreat to if things went wrong.

After differentiation, everyone had to go to the hospital for gender certification and update their identity records. That was the real issue. She could technically alter her records directly, but if caught, it would be far more troublesome than tampering with school surveillance footage.

And with Alphas being so rare, if she actually got tested, the news would definitely spread.

As expected, differentiating into an Alpha or Omega was nothing but trouble. Betas had it best.

Cross-legged on the floor, Sheng Yu pulled out her communicator and sent a message to someone.

Sheng Yu: I’m about to differentiate.

Imperial Tool: And?

Sheng Yu: Most likely an Alpha. But I need Beta identification.

There was no reply for a long time.

Imperial Tool: Your requests are getting more and more outrageous.

Sheng Yu: It’s not that uncommon. In my father’s old Alpha squad, there were apparently a few Betas posing as Alphas. Where did they get their IDs from? Why can Betas pretend to be Alphas, but Alphas can’t pretend to be Betas?

The other side clearly thought she was just being unreasonable.

Sheng Yu: Don’t bother lecturing me about regulations. Let’s be honest—just tell me what it’ll take for you to get me a legal Beta ID.

Imperial Tool: When do you expect to differentiate?

Sheng Yu: No idea. Didn’t feel it when the gland developed.

Imperial Tool: …

Imperial Tool: I’ll discuss it with the higher-ups.

Sheng Yu: I suggest your demands not be too excessive. Otherwise, I’d rather let my mother carve the gland out with a knife.

Imperial Tool: …

Imperial Tool: Fine. Also, please stop contacting me in the middle of the night. I need sleep too. Thanks.

Sheng Yu glanced at the last message and set her light brain aside.

The person on the other end waited for a while, realized Sheng Yu wasn’t going to reply, and tossed their own light brain away in frustration—angry, but helpless.

Sheng Yu put her light brain away and lay down on the sofa.

The sofa was just big enough for her to sleep on, though “just enough” clearly wasn’t all that comfortable.

Over the course of the night, Sheng Yu rolled off the sofa three times before finally giving up and sleeping on the carpet instead.

When Song Qing stepped out of her room in the morning, she saw Sheng Yu sprawled out on the carpet. But thanks to that pretty face of hers, it didn’t look messy—just kind of cute.

This time, she didn’t catch the scent of pheromones. She guessed that Sheng Yu had subconsciously reined them in after sensing her presence.

Song Qing didn’t wake Sheng Yu. Instead, she went to check on the kitten first. The little cat was already awake, playing by itself. When it saw Song Qing, it retreated into its bed, peeking out with just its eyes watching her.

Song Qing sighed, poured some food into the bowl, then left the room. She took a look in the kitchen—the fridge was empty except for soda—and ordered takeout.

Sheng Yu woke up when Song Qing went to see the cat. She watched as the freshly groomed Song Qing walked into the kitchen before sitting up, her gaze still unfocused, clearly not fully awake yet.

“You’re up?” Song Qing glanced at her. “I ordered breakfast—just the usual stuff. Hope that’s fine with you.”

“Mm.” Sheng Yu responded but didn’t move from the floor.

Song Qing thought for a moment. “Do you want to go back to bed for a bit?”

“No.” Sheng Yu stretched. “I’ll go wash up.”

Once in her room, Sheng Yu immediately noticed that the book she’d left on the table had been moved. She walked over, flipped through it a couple of times, then rearranged it exactly as it had been before anyone touched it before heading into the bathroom.

By the time Sheng Yu finished freshening up, breakfast had arrived. She opened the door to the cat’s room, and the kitten happily dashed out, leaping onto Sheng Yu’s lap in a few quick steps before curling up, tail flicking, its eyes fixed on Song Qing.

Sheng Yu took a couple of bites before stopping and looking at Song Qing. “I need you to keep what happened last night a secret.”

“Okay.”

Sheng Yu had expected some back-and-forth, but Song Qing agreed surprisingly easily.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Sheng Yu added.

“Got it. But what about your gender certification?” Song Qing assumed Sheng Yu wanted to hide her identity.

“I haven’t presented yet, right? Maybe you just mis-scented me. I’m just asking you not to say anything because I don’t want unnecessary attention,” Sheng Yu said. “And if I don’t end up presenting as an Alpha, wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

Song Qing knew Sheng Yu’s reasoning wasn’t that simple. Her current demeanor was completely different from last night’s. But there was nothing she could do—she couldn’t reveal she was an Omega, so she had no choice but to concede she might have been mistaken.

“Fine,” Song Qing agreed.

She could tell Sheng Yu had returned to her usual self.

After finishing her meal, Song Qing cleared the table. “I’m heading out. I’ll take the trash down for you.”

“Since you’re already here, why not go out for a bit?” Sheng Yu looked at her.

Song Qing thought for two seconds, then nodded. “Sure.”

The two were about to head out, and the kitten also wanted to come along. However, Sheng Yu mercilessly left it in the room—after all, there were places where cats couldn’t go, and bringing it would be too troublesome.

The cat trailed behind Sheng Yu’s feet, meowing pitifully. Song Qing looked at the kitten, her heart melting.

“There’s no way I’m taking you out. Playing pitiful won’t work. I’ll be back in the afternoon. 827 will take care of you at home, so behave yourself while I’m gone,” Sheng Yu said before closing the door.

“Does it actually understand you?” Song Qing asked curiously.

“Isn’t it said online that they can understand some simple human speech?”

“You believe that? Isn’t that just something sellers make up?”

Sheng Yu: ???

For some reason, Song Qing’s shocked expression made her feel insulted.

“It’s evolved for so many years—why wouldn’t I believe it? Besides, didn’t you see it understand what I said?” Sheng Yu argued.

Song Qing thought Sheng Yu was just imagining things. “Then why does it never respond when I talk to it?”

“Maybe it just doesn’t like you,” Sheng Yu said.

“I think you’re overthinking it.”

The two wandered around casually. Song Qing watched as Sheng Yu bought a bunch of snacks and held them in her hands. “You just had breakfast.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting more.”

Song Qing: …

“By the way, what was that smell you detected last night that made you mistake it for pheromones?” Sheng Yu lowered her voice, curious.

Song Qing thought back. “I don’t know… I don’t know what that smell was.”

“Did it smell good?” Sheng Yu pressed.

“Not really,” Song Qing replied. Sheng Yu had leaned in too close, making her ears tingle.

Hearing the words “not really,” Sheng Yu’s entire mood plummeted. “It wasn’t something like stinky tofu, durian, body odor, or feces, was it…?”

She could spend a night coming to terms with the fact that she was an Alpha, but she’d probably never accept it if her pheromones smelled like any of those.

Song Qing: …

“It wasn’t that bad,” Song Qing said, not understanding why Sheng Yu would jump to such conclusions. She pursed her lips. “It’s just that the scent gave me unpleasant associations, but I can’t pinpoint exactly what it was. It just made me uncomfortable.”

“Really?” Sheng Yu sighed in relief, then couldn’t help but muse, “I wonder how people with weird pheromones even live.”

Song Qing: …

“What does your pheromone smell like?” Sheng Yu asked. “I heard you’ve never leaked yours before.”

Pheromone scents could generally indicate someone’s rank and whether they were an Alpha or Omega. Song Qing casually replied, “No. 317, After the Rain.”

“Pretty fresh and light,” Sheng Yu said, tossing the finished snacks into the trash and wiping her hands. “Let’s go, President. Look, your favorite fluffy club is right there.”

Song Qing glanced at the shop in the distance, then at Sheng Yu. “Are you sure you want to go?”

“What’s wrong?” Sheng Yu asked, puzzled.

Song Qing reminded her, “Mian Mian is very possessive… If you come back smelling like other fluffies, it might get angry and reject you.”

“That little brat wouldn’t dare,” Sheng Yu said. “If it dares treat me like that, I’ll abandon it. I’ll make sure it knows who’s really in charge here.”

Song Qing: “…”

All I can say is, I don’t believe a word of it.

The two walked into the store. This time, although Sheng Yu also picked up some pet food, not a single fluffy creature came near her. They all kept their distance, circling warily around her with vigilant eyes, as if afraid she might approach.

Sheng Yu chuckled, somewhat helpless.

Song Qing was speechless. What kind of person would it take for the fluffy creatures to actually remember them? She silently moved away from Sheng Yu and noticed that the fluffies didn’t ignore her just because she had entered with Sheng Yu. She sighed in relief.

Sheng Yu noticed Song Qing’s movement and glanced at the fluffies scattered around, all of whom were completely ignoring her. She found a corner to sit in, far from Song Qing.

After all, she had snapped at Song Qing last night, so she decided to be a little nicer to her today.

Song Qing glanced at Sheng Yu and suddenly felt a twinge of guilt.

Sheng Yu pulled out her light brain and searched for the keywords: “pheromone scents that give people bad associations.”

She had assumed no one would discuss such a topic, but to her surprise, there were quite a few threads.

Today at work, my boss suddenly lost his temper. His chili-flavored pheromones nearly killed me. And our boss is a retired soldier—his pheromone control is impeccable. There’s no way to report him. Why is there even a regulation allowing bosses to exert moderate pheromone suppression on employees? This is just oppression of the working class!

Today on the spaceship, an Alpha’s pheromones leaked. Ever heard of a snack called stinky noodle soup?

Stinky noodle soup is nothing! Do you know what Chinese photinia smells like? AAAAAH! I thought there was a pervert nearby!

…

Sheng Yu skimmed through the posts, none of which seemed particularly reliable. Just as she was about to exit, she spotted another thread.

I looked up the pheromones of several S-class marshals. Seriously, what kind of weird scents are these? Some of them I’ve never even heard of.

Sheng Yu clicked on it.

The thread was still fresh, so it was highly active with plenty of discussion. After all, in the Empire, S-class Alphas had more fans than celebrities.

1L: No. 03—Snow Mountain. I know what a snow mountain is, but what does it smell like? Or is it just a cool name?

7L: No. 07—Featherflight. Not actual flying feathers—apparently, it’s a rare flower unique to Lanxing, found in Featherflight Lake. It blooms only once every ten years. Pretty precious.

13L: Has anyone here actually smelled it?

14L: Are you joking? Anyone who’s smelled it wouldn’t be here posting—they’d be dead. And if they’re not dead, they sure as hell wouldn’t tell you.

17L: I checked the pheromone registry. No. 01 is Xunye. Anyone know what that is? I searched maps, animals, food, plants—nothing matches. Isn’t that a bit too bizarre? And it doesn’t even sound like a special name.

19L: Rumor has it there was a No. 01 marshal three hundred years ago—just that one person. Who the hell knows what it is? Some say it’s a type of grass? Or maybe a mineral?

21L: Only one person isn’t unusual. The first hundred or so pheromones on the registry probably only have one or two registered users. Did you think S-class pheromones were something you could just sniff anywhere?

27L: Isn’t anyone curious about how the pheromones are numbered?

31L: No official explanation, but I’ve heard the lower the number, the harder it is to find a truly compatible Omega. Something about higher levels of a certain component (I don’t understand the term) makes them more likely to clash with other pheromones.

36L: Marshal Xunye from back then apparently never married and had no descendants, dying alone in the end… Rumor has it he actually had quite a few Omegas, but they all ended up dying after being permanently marked because they couldn’t handle his pheromones. And apparently, those Omegas were all S-rank.

68L: I thought S-rank Omegas had the highest compatibility? And how could any Omega not handle an Alpha? Stop spreading rumors.

69L: Honestly, after reading all this discussion, I suddenly realize I know nothing about our weird gender dynamics. I have no clue what you guys are talking about.

83L: Is what the previous poster said true? I thought S-rank elites usually had many permanently marked Omegas. But I just looked it up, and it’s true—S-rank elites actually have very few descendants. Some families seem large, but most of them are born from A-rank or S-rank Omegas.

118L: Stop talking. If you keep this up, you’ll probably get flagged. S-rank elites being infertile? Tsk.

136L: 118L is about to get tracked down for daring to suggest S-rank elites are “lacking.”

…

Sheng Yu watched as the discussion spiraled further off-topic, her lips twitching in exasperation. Why are there no serious people here?

Still, glancing at the earlier, more sensible parts of the thread, she smirked. This post probably wouldn’t survive much longer.

Sure enough, when she refreshed the page, the thread was already gone.

Sheng Yu sighed in disappointment and put away her tablet, stretching lazily.

Truth be told, she was starting to get curious about what rank of Alpha she actually was.

She glanced at Song Qing in the distance. Song Qing seemed to be in high spirits—she’d bought more food, so the fluffy creatures around her were multiplying.

At first, Song Qing had occasionally checked on Sheng Yu, but once the fluffballs took over, she completely forgot about her.

Bored, Sheng Yu pondered for a moment before diving back into the school’s surveillance system. Ten minutes later, based on her calculations, she marked three locations on the school map.

The first spot was the rooftop of Building 3. The second was a small grove behind the sports field. The third was behind the art building. Of course, the dormitories were empty during the day, but lingering pheromone traces could be troublesome.

These three places were usually deserted. For good measure, she even mapped out escape routes to avoid the Omega and Alpha classroom buildings.

If I go into rut during class… Surely it wouldn’t happen without any warning, right?

As long as she had five minutes, she could sprint to the nearest spot. Once it was over, she’d slip out of school—though she wasn’t sure she’d even be able to run by then. The rut usually lasted about half an hour, and she was confident she could endure it.

Sheng Yu took a deep breath. She was gambling—betting she wouldn’t be that unlucky.

“Heavenly gods, please let me go into rut on Friday night or over the weekend. I’m begging you,” she muttered under her breath.

“You believe in that stuff?”

Sheng Yu turned to Song Qing, her smile stiff. “President, eavesdropping isn’t a good habit.”

Song Qing’s expressionless face looked utterly sincere: “I just came to call you to leave, and happened to overhear.”

“Was that enough?” Sheng Yu glanced at the time. “Only an hour.”

Last time, Song Qing had stayed for half a day.

“It’s enough,” Song Qing replied. “Besides, you looked bored.”

“Actually, it wasn’t too bad.” Sheng Yu stood up and brushed off her clothes.

Though she hadn’t gotten to pet any fluffy animals, her clothes were now covered in fur.

For lunch, the two ate something simple outside, and this time Sheng Yu paid.

“I should still transfer the money to you,” Sheng Yu said, looking at Song Qing.

“No need.”

“If you don’t take it, I’ll feel like I owe you a lot,” Sheng Yu insisted.

“But it’s not much money.”

Sheng Yu: “…”

The rich young miss has spoken.

Though Sheng Yu was quite well-off herself, she couldn’t match Song Qing’s nonchalance. She suspected Song Qing might not have much concept of money.

“Exactly, it’s not much, so why won’t you take it? Fine, I won’t give you 100,000 then—50,000 it is.”

“Alright.” Perhaps sensing Sheng Yu’s firmness, Song Qing didn’t refuse this time.

After lunch, the two went their separate ways. Song Qing watched Sheng Yu’s figure disappear into the crowd before hailing a flying taxi.

When Sheng Yu got home and opened the door, the kitten immediately darted to the entrance, looking up at her and sniffing around.

Then Sheng Yu noticed the kitten take two steps back. For some reason, she saw a flicker of disbelief and shock in its eyes.

Was that really the kind of look a cat should have?

The kitten started meowing again.

It sounded displeased.

“I didn’t pet any. I just went with her,” Sheng Yu said, bending down to pick up the kitten. “Listen, don’t you dare throw a tantrum with me. You have no right to be angry in this house, got it?”

No sooner had she spoken than the kitten swatted her face with its paw and let out two sharp meows—clearly very unhappy.

Sheng Yu: “???”

“Great, you actually hit me. Go sleep on the streets then.” Sheng Yu set the cat down, opened the door, and said, “You eat my food, live in my house, and still hit me? Get out!”

The kitten looked up at Sheng Yu, then turned and walked out the door. Though its legs were short, its steps were steady, and despite its small size, it carried the imposing air of a wild beast.

Sheng Yu: “???”

She immediately scooped the cat back inside and shut the door.

But after doing so, Sheng Yu realized she might have completely lost any semblance of authority in this cat’s eyes.

The kitten swiped at her face again.

With a dark expression, Sheng Yu carried the cat back to its room, giving it two firm smacks on the rear before setting it down.

“Meow! Meow!!”

“I only went with her. Believe it or not, I only went to see the fluffy animals because she was upset you wouldn’t let her pet you,” Sheng Yu said, crouching down. “So this is your fault. Instead of reflecting on yourself, you hit me?”

“I’m the one in charge here, remember? I only brought you back because I felt bad about wasting my money.”

With that, Sheng Yu stood up and shut the door, hearing the kitten scratch angrily at it from inside.

827 brought Sheng Yu a drink and set it on the table. “After you left this morning, the kitten broke two plates, ruined your bedsheet, and destroyed the flowers you were growing. I’ve cleaned up and disciplined it.”

Sheng Yu: “…”

Sooner or later, I’m going to throw this annoying thing away.

The cold war between the human and the cat lasted until Monday morning.

When the kitten realized Sheng Yu was leaving for school, it started circling her feet. Upon realizing she really wasn’t planning to take it along, it grew anxious, rolling around and acting cute—but Sheng Yu ignored it.

“Take good care of her. If the food runs out, grab some from the cabinet. I’ve transferred money to your AI account—buy whatever’s needed,” Sheng Yu said expressionlessly, her voice icy.

“Understood,” 827 replied with a smile.

Sheng Yu glanced down at the cat, snorted, and walked out the door.

Cat: “…”

When Sheng Yu arrived at school in the morning, she ran into Song Qing, who seemed to be deliberately waiting for her at the gate.

“You didn’t bring it?” Song Qing glanced at Sheng Yu’s pockets.

“Nope,” Sheng Yu replied flatly.

Song Qing studied her. “Is it mad at you?”

“Pfft. Like I care.”

Song Qing seemed to have pieced things together and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been mad at a cat for two whole days?”

“Yep. And if you keep talking, I can stay mad at you for a month too.” Sheng Yu stormed off, her face dark, walking at a brisk pace.

She felt like she was about to explode from frustration.

Song Qing almost laughed—and then actually did, though the smile vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Back in class, Bai Ying sidled over with a sigh. “Ugh, I felt like I was about to differentiate yesterday. Probably a Beta, just as I expected. At least I don’t have to move dorms.”

“Simple and steady is the way to go. Look on the bright side—there are plenty of super-rich Betas. You can always aim to be a wealthy lady in the future,” Sheng Yu said.

Bai Ying pursed her lips. “But you guys still haven’t felt anything?”

“Actually, I did a few days ago,” Sheng Yu cut in. “Also a Beta. Forgot to mention it.”

“Huh? You’re a Beta? No way!” Ren Jin exclaimed.

“Why not? I’ve been saying I’m a Beta all along,” Sheng Yu shot her a look.

Zhang Yunsu propped her chin on her hand. “Sigh, I wonder when I’ll differentiate.”

“You’re a Beta?” Fu Lian, who had been listening nearby, leaned in and scrutinized Sheng Yu. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Sheng Yu said impassively. “Want me to punch you so you can tell if I’m an Omega or Alpha?”

“Hard pass. Never mind.” Fu Lian retreated.

News of Sheng Yu differentiating into a Beta spread quickly. Several forum threads popped up debating whether she was joking.

But many…

Omega mentioned feeling unwell and weak for a month before differentiation. Looking at Sheng Yu now, full of energy, she really didn’t seem like an Omega. Even the Alphas who usually didn’t talk much to Sheng Yu expressed some disappointment.

After seeing the post, Jiang Di was also very annoyed. He hadn’t expected Sheng Yu to actually be a Beta? But the specifics would still have to wait for the gender confirmation results.

Song Qing was also pretty much certain—Sheng Yu was probably going to do the same thing she had done.

The fourth class of the morning ended.

Yin Sheng appeared at the back door of Sheng Yu’s class with two others in tow.

“Yes, it’s her. I suspect she’s using banned substances,” Yin Sheng said, pointing at Sheng Yu. Although half of her face had improved, it was still slightly swollen.

Yin Sheng had also seen the post that morning. After reading it, she simply couldn’t believe that an undifferentiated Beta could have beaten her up so badly. So, she reported Sheng Yu directly.

Sheng Yu must have used some illegal method.

Next week, Yin Sheng would be spending half a month in juvenile detention. She wanted Sheng Yu to go with her.