Intoxicated by Her Pheromones - Chapter 10

Su Shu lay beneath her, feeling as though her entire body had melted into a soft, boneless puddle.

Yet she didn’t let Song Qing continue—there were people up front, after all, and she didn’t want anyone to see Song Qing in this state.

Besides, she still had something to do later.

Her gaze clearing slightly, Su Shu reached up to stroke Song Qing’s head before pushing her away.

Song Qing lifted her head, displeased by the rejection.

The impatience in her eyes burned like fire, staring straight at the woman beneath her as if she wanted to devour her on the spot.

“Why?”

“I still have things to do. Now’s not the time.”

“Then when will it be?” Song Qing pressed urgently, gripping Su Shu’s hand as if unwilling to let go—like a jaguar that had finally caught its prey, refusing to let it escape.

“Soon. It won’t be long before we meet again. When that time comes, I’ll indulge you in whatever you want.” As she spoke, Su Shu hooked an arm around Song Qing’s neck, leaning in to whisper by her ear.

The gesture only made Song Qing burn hotter.

Just as she was about to ignore everything and keep Su Shu there, a sharp pain shot through the back of her neck. The world before her blurred, and within moments, she blacked out.

Song Qing, now slumped over Su Shu, looked utterly docile—like a sleeping big cat, adorable enough to make one want to pet her.

But Su Shu knew better.

Song Qing was no harmless kitten. She was a dangerous predator, which was precisely why Su Shu had resorted to that instead of treating her gently.

Her gaze darkened.

Su Shu stroked Song Qing’s head for a long moment before finally speaking to the driver up front.

“Take us to Song Qing’s place.”

“Understood.”

The driver replied.

Holding Song Qing in the backseat, Su Shu dressed her properly before sending her home.

But she didn’t leave.

Standing before the grand, vintage-style villa, Su Shu supported Song Qing with steady steps, stopping only when they reached the entrance.

But just as she was about to input the passcode, she paused.

Her eyes flicked upward, spotting the hidden pinhole camera tucked discreetly in the doorframe. A faint smirk curled her lips.

She glanced at the unconscious woman beside her but said nothing.

Such things posed no threat to her.

If Song Qing found this amusing, Su Shu didn’t mind playing along.

After all, in the face of absolute power, these were nothing but petty tricks.

With a faint smile, Su Shu effortlessly cracked Song Qing’s passcode and carried her inside.

Song Qing remained unconscious as Su Shu settled her into her room, wiping her face with a towel before leaving.

The sleeping alpha knew nothing of this, so when He Sheng called the next morning—

She was slow to react.

“What’s up?”

The aftermath of heavy drinking was unpleasant. Rubbing her throbbing temples, Song Qing’s voice came out hoarse from dehydration.

“Nothing much. Just wanted to ask how you got home yesterday.”

“Didn’t you bring me back?” Song Qing’s memory stopped at the point where she’d gotten drunk with He Sheng, so she naturally assumed it had been him.

How else would a drunk like her have made it home in one piece?

“I took you back? Are you sure you didn’t misremember? I slept in the private room all night myself—how could I have taken you home?” He Sheng frowned.

At this, Song Qing’s eyes snapped open.

She only felt her headache worsening.

“Wait, so you’re saying you don’t know how I got back either?”

“Yeah, that’s why I called you,” He Sheng replied.

Song Qing’s brow furrowed deeply.

Then, as if struck by a thought, she exited the call and opened her messages.

What greeted her was a text she had received just as the call came in:

“Made you some honey water—remember to drink it when you wake up. Breakfast is ready too, on the table. Eat it once you’re up. Take care of yourself, or I’ll worry.”

The sender hadn’t left a name, but Song Qing had a gut feeling.

This was the person who had taken her home last night.

Not only that—it was the same obsessive fan who had been harassing her all this time.

Without hesitation, Song Qing sent back a question mark.

But just like before, the message failed to deliver.

The sender seemed indifferent to whether she replied. Every time, after sending the message, they would vanish mysteriously once Song Qing noticed.

If not for the very real harassment, Song Qing might have wondered if exhaustion was making her hallucinate.

“Hey? Song Qing, are you still there?” He Sheng called out loudly.

Snapping back to reality at the sound, Song Qing replied, “What?”

“Did you think of someone? Is it… that person?” He Sheng asked.

Both of them knew exactly who “that person” was.

“I think so. They just texted me,” Song Qing said coldly.

He Sheng paused, then asked Song Qing to forward the message.

After sending it, Song Qing hung up and headed to the kitchen.

The promised honey water and breakfast were indeed on the table, though they had gone cold by now.

Judging by the signs of activity in the kitchen, the meal had likely been prepared by that person.

Song Qing stared silently at the spread before her. After roughly estimating that it had been made in the early hours, she went to check the security footage.

But unfortunately—

There was nothing.

Worse, when she inspected the cameras, she found that all the ones she had installed had been tampered with.

“Damn it… What kind of psycho does this? Hiding in the shadows like a coward—come out and face me!” Song Qing cursed, running a frustrated hand through her hair before suddenly remembering something.

She looked up at the most discreetly placed camera.

Reaching up, she touched it—then removed it.

To her surprise, this one was still functional.

A smirk tugged at her lips.

Immediately, she pulled up the footage on her phone.

And there, in the early morning hours, she saw the figure leaving her house.

But in the video, the person was dressed in loose black clothing, their face completely concealed. Nothing identifiable.

Yet Song Qing couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity, as if she’d seen them somewhere before—but she just couldn’t place it.

For now, she took a screenshot, saved it, and sent it to He Sheng.

The surveillance footage was displayed in a small window on the right side of the screen, remaining still.

Song Qing and He Sheng were discussing the matter when suddenly, halfway through their conversation, they noticed movement in the previously static surveillance video.

The figure had returned…