My Alpha Has a Split Personality - Chapter 21

The gland is the most fragile and private part of an omega. Chi Yunhan shook her head and repeatedly said no.

 

Jiang Muning paid no heed, gripping her chin as she leaned in closer, intent on marking her.

 

An alpha in heat tends to revert to primal instincts—all their reason and strength morphing into raw desire, driven by the most basic urge to claim their prey.

 

And right now, Chi Yunhan was clearly her prey.

 

Pinned against the seat, Chi Yunhan found herself trapped beneath Jiang Muning, her wrists caught, knees pressed against her legs, leaving her no room to struggle.

 

“Jiang Muning!” Chi Yunhan called out, trying to snap her back to reason. She really didn’t want to do this in the car with Jiang Muning!

 

Yet Jiang Muning merely raised a brow, her movements growing more deliberate at the sound of her name. “Do you know what it means to call a woman’s name in bed?”

 

Chi Yunhan rushed to answer, “I do! It means I want you to stop! Jiang Muning, let me go right now! I’ll take you to the hospital, or else—or else you’re breaking the rules! This counts as coercion!”

 

Jiang Muning shook her head. “Wrong answer. Calling a woman’s name in bed means you don’t want her to stop.”

 

With that, she tugged Chi Yunhan’s collar down, exposing a sliver of skin—pale, delicate, the very spot where sweet pheromones bloomed.

 

“Jiang Muning… Jiang Muning, please, I’m begging you. Don’t do this. I’m scared.” Chi Yunhan shrank back, voice trembling. Jiang Muning paused, as if regaining a sliver of rationality.

 

But before Chi Yunhan could feel relieved, Jiang Muning’s fingers trailed lower, nails grazing her skin. “Don’t be afraid.”

 

This time, Chi Yunhan truly felt the terrifying presence of an alpha. She curled into the corner, nowhere left to retreat, squeezing her eyes shut.

 

“No… really, no… don’t—don’t look…”

 

Her words tumbled out in a panic as she freed a hand to cover her neck, frantic—afraid of being marked, but even more afraid of being seen in such an ugly state.

 

She had always hidden her gland meticulously, never letting anyone catch a glimpse.

 

“Be good.” Jiang Muning gently moved her fingers aside.

 

The moment her gaze landed there, her hand stilled. Where an omega’s gland should have been, there was instead a scar—a jagged, twisted line like a vicious centipede coiled around her neck.

 

Chi Yunhan’s neck was beautiful, the kind of swan-like elegance many girls coveted—long, slender, paired with graceful shoulders. But this scar, stark and uneven, shattered all that allure.

 

Jiang Muning must think it’s hideous.

 

The thought filled Chi Yunhan with shame. Though she lived carelessly, deep down, she still cared about beauty—especially when it came to her gland, an omega’s most intimate and sensual part, meant only for a lover or future mate to see.

 

“I told you not to look,” Chi Yunhan muttered, shrugging as she tried to slip free, pulling her hair down to hide the scar.

 

But Jiang Muning didn’t relent. Instead, her fingers lingered, tracing the scar with surprising tenderness. “Wow… what a cute little centipede.”

 

Chi Yunhan froze. Something inside her seemed to drift downward, her eyes stinging. Tears pooled as she peered up at Jiang Muning, timid and unsure.

 

Jiang Muning repeated her words, her fingertips tracing over it without a hint of disgust. “How did a little centipede end up here?”

 

A little centipede.

 

A sudden impulse surged in Chi Yunhan’s heart. Timidly, she said, “Bite me.”

 

Jiang Muning coaxed her, “Just one bite.”

 

Her rationality was already at its limit. The moment Jiang Muning leaned down, Chi Yunhan tightly shut her eyes, bracing herself for the bite.

 

Teeth grazed around her neck, breaths growing heavier with each passing second, then pressed against her gland. It hurt a little, followed by a warm, moist heat on her skin—as if kissed again, sending shivers down her spine.

 

Jiang Muning’s voice was gentle. “I feel like I’m about to be poisoned by you.”

 

The tears that had welled up from fear earlier now spilled shamelessly. Chi Yunhan wiped them away and asked, “Are you feeling better now?”

 

Jiang Muning didn’t respond. She asked a second time, but still got no answer. Abruptly turning her head, she saw Jiang Muning’s eyes were closed.

 

“Jiang Muning? Jiang Muning!”

 

It was over—she had truly fainted.

 

…

 

When Jiang Muning woke up, she was lying in a hospital bed.

 

She stared at the ceiling, waiting for her consciousness to fully return. Upon hearing a sound, she swiftly turned her head and asked, “Where’s my Omega?”

 

It was Jiang Muning’s secretary who had entered. She knocked on the door and said, “President Jiang, how are you feeling now?”

 

Jiang Muning repeated her question. “Where’s my Omega?”

 

The secretary replied, “She’s resting now and is perfectly fine. Do you remember what happened yesterday?”

 

Jiang Muning propped herself up and searched her memory before saying, “Hand me my suit.”

 

“Of course.” The secretary went to the nearby cabinet and passed her the suit. She waited for Jiang Muning’s next question, but the latter remained eerily calm and simply gestured for her to leave.

 

The secretary stepped out once and returned to find Jiang Muning fully dressed in her suit, her disheveled hair neatly combed. A few strands still stuck up from sleep, but they did nothing to diminish her air of meticulousness.

 

Jiang Muning sat on the sofa beside the hospital bed, legs crossed, expression stern, holding a palm-sized notebook in her hand.

 

The stern Jiang Muning had reemerged.

 

The secretary straightened her posture as well and asked, “President Jiang, why didn’t you ask why you’re in the hospital?”

 

Jiang Muning seemed to already know. “Chi Yunhan brought me here.”

 

“Correct,” the secretary nodded.

 

Jiang Muning asked proactively, “Does she know anything?”

 

“No, she doesn’t. Rest assured, I told her I was your colleague and used the most plausible excuse to brush it off. She didn’t suspect a thing, though Miss Chi was extremely worried about you.”

 

The driver had called the secretary to inform her about the hospital visit. By then, Chi Yunhan had already brought Jiang Muning in, but since she didn’t recognize the secretary, she refused to believe her and stubbornly waited at the entrance all night.

 

The secretary added, “Only at dawn, after the doctor confirmed you were fine, did she finally leave. Her concern for you was genuine, President Jiang. The Omega you matched with this time is excellent. Your decision back then was absolutely right.”

 

Jiang Muning gave a noncommittal hum. She flipped open a page of the notebook and remarked, “The handwriting is atrocious.”

 

The secretary nearly retorted, “But that’s your handwriting,” but didn’t dare and kept her mouth shut.

 

Jiang Muning flipped through several more pages, her expression growing increasingly grave.

 

The notebook recorded the following:

 

1: The perfume formula is Chi Yunhan’s. It stinks.

 

2: Chi Yunhan smells so good, incredibly good, too good. I really want to cling to her forever. How can there be an Omega as fragrant as Chi Yunhan in this world?

 

3: The identity of Chi Yunhan’s parents is questionable. They’re withholding her household registration. They might not be her biological parents. Must investigate (definitely investigate).

 

4: This Omega smells amazing, intoxicating. Just one more whiff.

 

5: I want to mark her.

 

Jiang Muning’s fingers tightened, nearly tearing the notebook apart.

 

She clenched her fists, took a deep breath to calm herself, then smoothed out the notebook and read through it again. Some of the entries confused her.

 

Her secretary, noticing her troubled expression, asked, “Have you recalled what happened yesterday? If not, I can fill you in…”

 

“No need. I remember now.” Jiang Muning picked up a pen and expressionlessly crossed out some words in the notebook before carefully putting it away. “Investigate Chi Yunhan’s parents’ identities as quickly as possible.”

 

“Understood,” the secretary replied promptly, waiting for further instructions. When none came, she ventured, “Is there anything else you might have forgotten?”

 

Jiang Muning thought for a moment. “What about the collaboration with France?”

 

“It’s been postponed for now. They were very concerned when they heard you fainted. Let me know when you’re ready to resume negotiations.”

 

Jiang Muning nodded, pleased with how the secretary handled things. Leaning back against the headboard, she sipped the hot tea placed beside her.

 

She glanced at the secretary, who still stood by the bed, seemingly hesitant. “What else do you want to say?”

 

“I’m not sure if I should mention this.”

 

“Speak.” Jiang Muning hated such hesitation.

 

“Aren’t you curious about why you fainted?”

 

Jiang Muning wasn’t particularly curious. Hospital visits were routine for her—usually due to her rut cycle, pheromone surges she failed to control, leading to unconsciousness.

 

However, the next moment, the secretary said, “You lost control of your surging pheromones, bit your Omega, and then passed out.”

 

Jiang Muning spat out the tea she had just sipped, choking and coughing violently, her face turning red.

 

The secretary continued, “I consulted the doctor. Your rut wasn’t supposed to start yesterday—it’s scheduled for the end of the month. But you kept inhaling your Omega’s pheromones without restraint, triggering an early rut and causing you to collapse.”

 

Jiang Muning was utterly stunned, unable to picture such a scene. Still coughing from the choking, she asked in disbelief, “That really happened?”

 

After a moment of shock, she firmly denied it. “Impossible. I would never do such a thing. There must be some misunderstanding.”

 

“It did happen. The car’s dashcam recorded everything. I’ve already verified it. Most likely, you marked your Omega.” The secretary seemed prepared. She stepped outside, retrieved a laptop from an assistant, and opened an audio file.

 

Jiang Muning remained in shock, enunciating each word slowly, “I marked my Omega?” But I had no idea?

 

“Yes.” The secretary leaned over and pressed play on the audio.

 

The quiet office was soon filled with bizarre sounds.

 

“Let me take a whiff.”

 

“Just one more sniff. You smell so good, better than any perfume.”

 

“Do you know you shouldn’t casually call out a woman’s name in bed?”

 

The audio wasn’t finished playing when Jiang Muning forcefully hit pause. Perhaps it was the aftereffects of being choked up, but Jiang Muning’s ears and face were completely flushed red. Her fingers gripping the computer trembled visibly.

 

No matter how serious and proper she tried to be, she couldn’t deny it anymore.

 

Only four words remained written across her face: “A bolt from the blue.”

 

A bolt from the blue indeed!

 

Her secretary somewhat regretted telling her about these matters. After all, the daytime Jiang was always ascetic, strict with herself, and never approached Omega women.

 

Glancing again at Jiang Muning’s face, it had turned from red to white, just like when she was admitted to the hospital last night. Seeing how frightened the CEO was, the secretary comforted her, “You could think of it this way—the person at night wasn’t really you.”

 

Jiang Muning turned her head to look at her, lowered it, and repeated, “I marked her? No, my Omega was marked by someone else… I… marked her?” After repeating it several times, her logic became unclear, and she finally said coldly, “I shouldn’t have let her out.”

 

At this, the secretary was also puzzled. Their CEO strictly controlled herself during the day, doing everything possible to prevent the nighttime version from emerging. It had been five or six years since such a situation last occurred, and she couldn’t help but be curious.

 

“Did you not take your medicine?” she asked.

 

Jiang Muning didn’t answer. She pushed the computer away, her fingers accidentally brushing the touchpad, and the voice came through again.

 

“Calling a woman’s name in bed means you don’t want her to stop.”

 

The secretary choked violently, swallowing back the words “CEO Jiang.” Meanwhile, Jiang Muning slammed the laptop shut, took a deep breath, quickly rose from the sofa, and moved far away, standing by the floor-to-ceiling window.

 

Get lost, this damned bed.

 

Several minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and the doctor walked in. Glancing at Jiang Muning, he said, “Ms. Jiang’s condition hasn’t improved yet. Why is she out of bed?”

 

The secretary, holding the computer, adjusted her glasses and said, “Probably because the bed is a little too hot to handle.”

 

“Huh?” The doctor didn’t understand.

 

“Just a bad joke, don’t mind it.” The secretary regained her composure and asked seriously, “Did you come for something?”

 

The doctor replied, “I came to inform you to take Ms. Jiang for a check-up. By the way, I just ran into the Omega who came with you downstairs. If it’s her first time being marked, an Omega needs her Alpha by her side to feel secure.”

 

“She’s here?” Jiang Muning turned her head, then immediately faced the window again, staring at the large tree outside as she composed herself. “I understand.”

 

The doctor was stunned for a few seconds before looking at the secretary. “Take your CEO for a check-up right away. I think the aftereffects are hitting her hard. She shouldn’t be exposed to so much pheromone in the future.”

 

The secretary nodded. “I’ll take her soon. She’s still a bit dazed and needs a little more time. Sorry for the trouble.”

 

The doctor gave a few more instructions and handed her a prescription.

 

After seeing the doctor out, the secretary walked to the window and asked Jiang Muning, “CEO Jiang, do you want to see your Omega?”

 

Jiang Muning gave a faint hum, then suddenly said, “Leave the computer here.”

 

“Hmm?” The secretary looked at her in confusion.

 

“And the headphones.”

 

“Got it.” The secretary thoughtfully prepared everything for her, plugging headphones into the computer before asking, “Would you like to listen in bed, or…”

 

“Leave.”

 

“Understood.”

 

The door clicked shut, dimming the light in the room. The square screen emitted a pale glow as Jiang Muning stared blankly for a moment before putting on the headphones.

 

She lasted only seconds before fragmented words spilled from her lips, “Shameless… brazen… utterly devoid of moral sense…”

 

“I marked my omega without realizing it.”

 

Outside, the secretary and assistant stood waiting. As time ticked by, their stiff postures inevitably led to aching backs.

 

The assistant, lacking the secretary’s composure, whispered, “What’s President Jiang doing? Why does she keep cursing?”

 

The secretary replied, “She’s reliving it… while berating herself in anger.”

 

…

 

Chi Yunhan was still pacing downstairs.

 

After escorting someone to the hospital yesterday, she had stayed vigil until the secretary’s team arrived. They identified themselves as Jiang Muning’s associates with proper credentials, allowing Chi Yunhan to finally go rest.

 

Having experienced her first Alpha marking and the subsequent shock, she collapsed from exhaustion and slept until now.

 

Chi Yunhan walked toward the ward while updating Lu Xiangyuan, who showed genuine concern, insisting on visiting that afternoon.

 

“Don’t trouble yourself, I’ll recover soon,” Chi Yunhan said. “Besides, your visit might raise eyebrows—people could mistake you for my marker.”

 

Undeterred, Lu Xiangyuan continued lecturing, “Listen carefully—post-marking only temporarily suppresses an Omega’s heat. Next cycle, you’ll need unionization, requiring your Alpha to open and mark your reproductive cavity.”

 

Chi Yunhan found it odd how this Alpha knew more than her, an Omega, discussing such matters without embarrassment.

 

Growing impatient with Lu Xiangyuan’s phone sermon, she cut in, “Got it! I’m already at the hospital. Jiang Muning will handle my needs. Talk later, bye.”

 

She looked up, taking a deep breath.

 

Meeting Jiang Muning suddenly felt awkward.

 

After steeling herself, Chi Yunhan ascended. As she raised her hand to knock, Jiang Muning opened the door first.

 

Retracting her hand sheepishly, Chi Yunhan asked politely, “May I come in?”

 

Only after Jiang Muning nodded did she enter. Standing awkwardly by the bed, she fetched a chair instead and sat down.

 

Jiang Muning reclined on the bed.

 

Their gazes met—both tense.

 

“Have the doctor examine you later,” Jiang Muning said, eyeing her neck where Chi Yunhan’s hair concealed the gland, its condition unknown. The audio recording suggested a violent process.

 

“And you? Feeling better?” Chi Yunhan asked.

 

“I’m fine,” Jiang Muning replied. Chi Yunhan half-expected her to add “Stay away,” but instead heard, “Did it hurt much?”

 

Having slept alone last night, Chi Yunhan had feared Jiang Muning might awaken detached, reverting to cold indifference. Visions of Jiang Muning’s out-of-control state lingered—not hypersensitivity, but visceral dread.

 

Now that Jiang Muning had shown her some concern, Chi Yunhan felt a warmth in her heart. She nodded quickly, then realized it wasn’t quite right and shook her head vigorously instead.

 

“I-it’s not that painful, really. How should I put it? Maybe it’s just a temporary mark. I’m not sure if you even managed to mark me properly.”

 

This was Chi Yunhan’s first time experiencing something like this. She felt like her skin had been broken, but Jiang Muning had fainted too quickly—it didn’t seem like any pheromones had been injected. Embarrassed, she added, “Maybe I poisoned you or something.”

 

Jiang Muning frowned slightly, not quite understanding what she meant, but nodded as if she did. “We should still have a doctor check it.”

 

The topic was too awkward to dwell on, and Chi Yunhan’s face grew hot as soon as it ended.

 

Trying to shift the conversation, she glanced around before settling her gaze on Jiang Muning. “Why did you put your suit back on?”

 

Jiang Muning was about to answer when Chi Yunhan glanced at the secretary nearby and whispered, “Oh, right. With your friends around, you must feel too self-conscious.”

 

Jiang Muning had no memory of what happened the night before, but knowing herself, she was certain she must have done something… She swallowed hard, lowering her head as her fingers brushed over the last line of text in her notebook.

 

Chi Yunhan stood up and approached the secretary. “Could you step out for a moment? We need to talk privately.”

 

The secretary glanced at Jiang Muning and, for the first time, saw something akin to fear in her usually stern eyes. The unshakable CEO now looked almost pitiful.

 

“Well, we still have some work to—”

 

“Work can wait! Look at her—she’s sick,” Chi Yunhan said. “Is your boss really that heartless?”

 

The secretary coughed awkwardly. “Take your time, then.”

 

As she left, she stole one last glance at Jiang Muning, who had never looked so tense before—her fingers were already fiddling with her buttons.

 

Once the third wheel was gone, Chi Yunhan became bolder. She closed the door and immediately leaned over the bed, staring at Jiang Muning with wide eyes. “Isn’t wearing a suit uncomfortable?”

 

Jiang Muning’s lips twitched. “I-it is a little. Stop staring at me…”

 

“Fine!” Chi Yunhan turned her back. “Go ahead and take it off.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Jiang Muning froze. Take what off?

 

Chi Yunhan peeked over her shoulder. “Your clothes. Did you forget? Didn’t you say… it’s too restrictive, that you prefer being free and unrestrained? That you’re actually quite bold?”

 

Jiang Muning’s blank expression made it clear she had no recollection of saying any of that. Chi Yunhan frowned. “Actually, I meant to ask yesterday—why do you seem so different during the day compared to at night? It’s like you’re two different people…”

 

“I’m the same,” Jiang Muning cut in sternly. “I was just groggy from sleep and forgot for a moment. Turn around first.”

 

“…Okay.” Chi Yunhan studied her skeptically, as if struggling to believe her. After a pause, she added, “You took your clothes off right in front of me yesterday.”

 

Jiang Muning’s throat moved slightly.

 

The conversation was growing increasingly awkward. Chi Yunhan’s gaze lingered on Jiang Muning’s face, scrutinizing her carefully. The features were the same, the person was the same—but her demeanor was worlds apart from the night before.

 

After a few seconds of standoff, Jiang Muning took off her coat. Out of habit, she started folding it, but as she did, she looked up at Chi Yunhan. Chi Yunhan blinked, and after a moment of silence, Jiang Muning flung the suit jacket onto the floor.

 

With a loud thud, the once-pristine suit now looked rather pitiful.

 

Chi Yunhan then turned her gaze to Jiang Muning’s shirt.

 

Jiang Muning’s fingers twisted the buttons with force, slowly moving to her chest as she undid the first one. Her arms stiff, she then unfastened the second. A shirt didn’t have many buttons to begin with, and going any lower would reveal the peaks, exposing some breathtaking scenery.

 

The third, then the fourth—the buttons reached her abdomen. Any further and there’d be nothing left. Pinching the fabric, Jiang Muning said seriously, “I don’t think I ran naked to your house.”

 

“Pfft—hahahaha!”

 

Chi Yunhan couldn’t hold back and burst into laughter. “You only undid two buttons yesterday! I can’t with you—today you’re even more shameless than yesterday! You’re seriously so shameless!”

 

Instantly, Jiang Muning’s ears flushed red. Words clogged in her throat as she hurriedly redid the buttons. But when she reached the third one, her fingers paused, leaving the top three undone, revealing an alluring view.

 

Chi Yunhan picked up the suit jacket from the floor, patted it on her lap, and cast a scrutinizing glance at Jiang Muning. It still felt different. The first time Jiang Muning had undone her buttons, Chi Yunhan had been utterly stunned—her aura was so shameless, like a wild fox.

 

But now, she seemed more like a delicate little wife being forced into it, unbearably cute in every way, making one want to tease her.

 

If she bullied Jiang Muning during the day, would Jiang Muning bully her at night?

 

No, no—she was getting indecent again.

 

Chi Yunhan handed the jacket to her. Jiang Muning touched it but withdrew her hand. “No need. I won’t wear this.”

 

Chi Yunhan smirked. “If you don’t remember, just admit it. Why force yourself to pretend you do? Hahaha.”

 

Jiang Muning remained stubborn. “I remember.”

 

“Oh? Then do you also remember how you bullied me?” Chi Yunhan propped her chin on one hand, watching her, then covered her face with the jacket, feigning shyness. “It hurt sooo much. I said no, but you said, ‘When a woman says no, it means don’t stop.’ And then you just kept going and going.”

 

“I—I—” Jiang Muning was once again stunned, as if her entire being had shattered. Her voice trembled. “I… took you?”

 

“Didn’t you say you remember?” Chi Yunhan shot back.

 

Jiang Muning turned her head toward the desk—the laptop had already been taken away by her secretary. Her memory was a complete blank.

 

Chi Yunhan teased deliberately, “So, what are you going to do about it? You were sooo rough~”

 

Jiang Muning’s frown deepened. Gripping the blanket, she said solemnly, “I’ll make it up to you.”

 

Jiang Muning was just too fun, too amusing.

 

Once she’d laughed enough, Chi Yunhan pointed at the thermal container on the cabinet. “If you really want to make it up to me, then let me feed you.”

 

Jiang Muning’s brow twitched. She glanced at the container. “I’m not hungry.”

 

“Fine.”

 

Chi Yunhan sighed in exaggerated disappointment, opened the container, and ladled out a bowl before handing it to Jiang Muning. “Just taste it and see if it’s good. If not, don’t eat it. Don’t worry, I won’t force you.”

 

Jiang Muning was notoriously picky. When she ate at her parents’ place, her finicky attitude was downright unbearable. Chi Yunhan watched nervously as Jiang Muning took the bowl, sampling the food as cautiously as if testing for poison.

 

It was chicken soup, made following an online food blogger’s recipe. Chi Yunhan had tasted it herself after cooking—the broth was fragrant, the meat tender.

 

Jiang Muning took a small sip. “It’s… acceptable.”

 

Chi Yunhan beamed. “Then I’ll make you something else tomorrow and bring it over. You should nourish yourself properly.”

 

“Tonic soup?” Jiang Muning paused mid-sip, the words sounding rather odd no matter how she heard them.

 

Chi Yunhan said, “Didn’t your friend say you fainted because you were too weak?” Worried about hurting Jiang Muning’s pride, she quickly added, “Don’t worry, I don’t mind. Just take care of yourself, and you won’t faint again. No need to feel insecure.”

 

Insecure? Not exactly. But Jiang Muning’s face darkened. So, this was the “perfectly reasonable explanation” her secretary had come up with?

 

Jiang Muning didn’t drink much of the chicken soup, only ate a drumstick, and kept glancing toward the door. Meanwhile, Chi Yunhan, feeling hungry herself, polished off the rest from the pot.

 

Later, Chi Yunhan wandered around the hospital room, occasionally stopping in front of Jiang Muning to stare at her, back and forth, over and over.

 

Finally, Jiang Muning couldn’t take it anymore. She closed her eyes and lay still, her mind sluggishly working through how to handle the situation. Her body felt unbearably heavy.

 

Regret. Deep regret.

 

Why had she been so reckless as to skip her medication?

 

By evening, Chi Yunhan was finally leaving. “I’ll come see you again tomorrow. Get some rest, okay?”

 

Truthfully, she would’ve liked to stay overnight, but the doctor had warned that Jiang Muning’s condition was unstable, and it was best not to disturb her. If Jiang Muning lost control of her rationality again, the consequences would be unthinkable.

 

Over the next few days, Jiang Muning remained in the hospital for tests. The good news was that her mental stability and pheromones had improved. The bad news? Her heat cycle might come early, and she needed to be extra cautious.

 

Chi Yunhan visited daily, bringing food each time. No matter when she arrived, Jiang Muning would do one thing first: take off her suit jacket and undo three buttons.

 

Chi Yunhan would then whisper in her ear, “Being shameless at night is one thing, but don’t act like this during the day. What will your colleagues and friends think?”

 

Jiang Muning flipped through her documents without looking up. “No. I like it this way.”

 

Chi Yunhan rubbed her nose, silently reciting prayers to avoid a nosebleed. “By the way, I’m going back to work tomorrow. I’ll only be able to come after my shift.”

 

“Understood,” Jiang Muning murmured.

 

Chi Yunhan glanced at her, cheeks tinged with shyness. “Remember to miss me~”

 

Jiang Muning stared back, her ears burning red. “I’ll think about it thoroughly.”

 

Chi Yunhan’s face flushed even deeper. Missing her was one thing, but why did she have to think about it thoroughly? How intimate would that be?

 

Clearly, this Jiang Muning was all prim and proper on the outside but utterly shameless inside.

 

The moment Chi Yunhan left, Jiang Muning immediately buttoned up and turned to her secretary and assistant.

 

Coldly, she asked, “Am I weak?”

 

The secretary’s heart skipped a beat. She glanced at the ceiling and lied with utmost sincerity, “No. You’re ferocious.”

 

A woman’s competitive spirit was terrifying.

 

Especially when that woman was jealous of herself.

 

 

Previously, Chi Yunhan had always gone to work with Jiang Muning. Now, heading to the office alone felt strange.

 

She had taken two days off, and upon returning, the company seemed different—permeated with a foul stench. She covered her nose.

 

“What the hell? Why does it smell so bad? Did the toilets explode?”

 

“Forgot to tell you—a few days ago, Chi Yurong somehow got her hands on some formula and has been experimenting with it in the fragrance lab every day. The smell… is absolutely unbearable.” Lu Xiangyuan handed her a mask and gagged before continuing, “Your area is still okay since it’s far from the lab. Unlike our department—we’re right next to it, and the two departments have to interact frequently. Damn it, I’m gonna puke—”

 

Chi Yunhan took the mask from her, feeling a little guilty.

 

The employees in the company looked like refugees fleeing a disaster, all wearing masks. Those who worked directly with Chi Yurong had gone to the extreme of wearing helmets.

 

Chi Yunhan was shocked.

 

Lu Xiangyuan said, “Your sense of smell is so sensitive—should I go borrow a helmet for you? Let me tell you, this is just the beginning. It’ll get even worse later. She tests hundreds of fragrances a day. Even the water in the office smells foul now.”

 

Chi Yunhan patted her shoulder. “I’ll be fine. Just take care of yourself.”

 

Feeling guilty, she returned to her office, took off the mask, sprayed it with some cooling balm, and put it back on. Then she noticed one absolute trooper in the company who hadn’t worn a mask at all—her face was deathly pale, looking like she was about to pass out.

 

Chi Yunhan asked Zuo Yijing beside her, “Does Fang Mengmiao have no sense of smell? Can’t she smell the stench?”

 

“What do you mean?” Zuo Yijing whispered back. “These past few days, since Chi Yurong’s been mixing fragrances, everyone says it stinks. But Fang Mengmiao is Chi Yurong’s biggest fan—of course she’d suck up to her. So, she refuses to wear a mask and insists it smells amazing.”

 

“Pfft—”

 

Chi Yunhan gave Fang Mengmiao a thumbs-down. Being a bootlicker to this extent was truly pathetic. Fang Mengmiao had taken the art of brown-nosing to new heights.

 

Respect. Respect.

 

Their department was far enough from the fragrance lab that they couldn’t smell anything unless they went to that floor. Still, everyone actively avoided colleagues from the lab—the moment they spotted a perfumer, they’d bolt.

 

As for Chi Yurong, people now looked at her with suspicion. Was she really a perfumer, or was she concocting sewage? It was terrifying.

 

In the afternoon, Lu Xiangyuan invited Chi Yunhan out for lunch—mainly because the smell in the office was unbearable. Even the cafeteria ladies were gagging while cooking.

 

Who could eat under these conditions?

 

“Let’s go somewhere farther,” Lu Xiangyuan said weakly, as if half her soul had already left her body. “If I smell that stench in a milk tea shop, I swear I’ll throw up.”

 

“Sure.” Chi Yunhan considered riding her bike with her but worried she might get carsick. So, they walked along the street, heading to a restaurant up ahead.

 

Lu Xiangyuan double-masked herself, her eyes darting around. “Yunhan, have you noticed? No one’s walking on the same side of the street as us.”

 

“You’re overthinking it. Seriously.” Chi Yunhan also kept her head down. It wasn’t that people avoided walking with them—it was that whenever anyone got close, they’d cover their noses and give them weird looks.

 

Lu Xiangyuan sighed dramatically. “Yunhan, today I’ve truly seen who my real friends are. Everyone else runs away from me, but you’ve stuck by my side no matter what. It’s just a little stink—people are so dramatic.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Chi Yunhan was dying of guilt and whispered, “Lunch is on me. Order whatever you want.”

 

Lu Xiangyuan agreed and straightened up, lifting her chin.

 

She tried to perk up, intending to ask Chi Yunhan about what had happened a few days ago—whether she’d been mistreated at home—when suddenly, she realized something was off. She whipped her head around to stare at Chi Yunhan. “You—was it you who gave her the formula?”

 

“I… I didn’t expect her to test fragrances at the company, and to keep trying despite the stench. I was wrong.” Chi Yunhan turned and ran, “I’m sorry!”

 

Lu Xiangyuan chased Chi Yunhan down the street. Perhaps the wind had carried away most of the lingering scent by then, because when she finally caught up, she only scolded her angrily.

 

It was Chi Yunhan’s first time eating in this area. She thought if the milk tea here was good, she’d bring some to Jiang Muning at the hospital—she had never seen Jiang Muning drink milk tea before.

 

She snapped a photo and messaged Jiang Muning:
Milk tea~ What do you want?

 

Jiang Muning replied:
No.

 

Chi Yunhan went to order, asking Lu Xiangyuan if she wanted dessert. Lu Xiangyuan, sitting in the farthest corner, gave her an okay sign.

 

Chi Yunhan added egg tarts and a dirty bun to the order, then handed her payment QR code to the cashier. As she waited for the transaction to complete, the cashier scanned the code—and in that brief moment, a robotic voice announced:

 

“Alipay payment received: One million yuan…”

 

Both the cashier and Chi Yunhan froze, staring wide-eyed at each other.

 

The cashier recovered first, checking the screen in panic. “Wait, wait—let me see if the machine malfunctioned. Could you check too? Maybe you accidentally showed a receiving code?”

 

Chi Yunhan checked her phone. The screen clearly displayed the payment QR code, and the transaction had gone through. But when she scrolled down, she saw a notification: One minute ago, you received a transfer of 1,000,000 yuan.

 

One million?

 

She blinked hard, hands trembling as she tapped the notification. It was real. Holy sh1t. She had never seen so much money in her life.

 

The cashier confirmed it wasn’t a system error and now looked at Chi Yunhan like she was a wealthy socialite—who casually carried a million yuan to buy milk tea. The cashier hurriedly packed her order, offering to sign her up for a membership card.

 

People nearby were staring. Chi Yunhan grabbed the bag and retreated, frantically checking the transfer details.

 

Sender: *Jiang ning

 

Jiang Muning had sent her a million yuan?

 

Why? Out of nowhere, such an enormous sum?

 

A million—she could sell everything she owned and still not scrape together that much.

 

Chi Yunhan couldn’t make sense of it. She rubbed her fingertips absently, then touched her neck. Setting the milk tea down, she slumped into a chair, dazed.

 

She turned to Lu Xiangyuan, voice shaking. “When an Alpha gives an Omega money after marking them… what does it usually mean?”

 

Alphas had their own circles, and they were messy.

 

Lu Xiangyuan didn’t run in those circles. She unwrapped her milk tea, stabbing the straw in. “Normally? It’s for removing the mark—if it’s a permanent one. If it’s not permanent, then it’s a breakup fee. Cutting ties.”

 

Noticing Chi Yunhan’s expression darken, she paused. “Wait… no way?”

 

Chi Yunhan sat there—

 

On the chair, a chilling sensation crept up the back of her neck, as if cold wind was seeping down her collar, sending shivers through her.

 

Lu Xiangyuan asked, “How much did she give you?”

 

“A million.”

 

Lu Xiangyuan nearly crushed her milk tea in shock. “That much?”

 

“Could there be some misunderstanding?” Lu Xiangyuan found it all very odd. “Think about it—where would a normal person get a million? I certainly don’t have that kind of money.”

 

Chi Yunhan said, “She works at PFE.”

 

PFE employees generally earned more than they did.

 

Chi Yunhan grew increasingly irrational, her anger burning through her thoughts. “Someone like her—even if she didn’t have the money, she’d sell everything she owned just to scrape it together to leave me. You know what? She went into heat once, got drunk, and still didn’t dare mark me. Hahahaha.”

 

“I should’ve known. She’s been acting weird lately. Before, whenever she saw me, she was always impeccably dressed, everything in place. Now, the moment she sees me, she takes off her suit jacket and undoes her buttons.”

 

Selling everything—even resorting to seduction. How ruthless.

 

Lu Xiangyuan didn’t quite grasp the implication. “What’s she trying to achieve with this?”

 

Chi Yunhan said, “She’s trying to push me to lose control, to pounce on her and take a bite. A bite for a bite—then we’d be even.”

 

Thinking it over, Lu Xiangyuan agreed with her logic. “That is pretty devious.” Seeing Chi Yunhan on the verge of breaking down, she tried to comfort her. “Look at it this way—you’ve just seen through a scummy Alpha. Take her million and go find a wilder one. I know plenty of Alphas I can introduce you to. Then you can flaunt it in her face and make her furious. Don’t be sad.”

 

Chi Yunhan said okay, but her heart ached unbearably.

 

Could Jiang Muning have lied to her?

 

Was that little centipede actually not cute at all?

 

“Who even wants her stupid million?!”

 

Holding onto a sliver of hope, Chi Yunhan decided to confront Jiang Muning. But before she could find Jiang Muning’s number to call, her phone buzzed with a new message.

 

Jiang Muning: I’ve thought it over. We should talk about what happened before.

 

Chi Yunhan typed back: Why did you send me money?

 

Jiang Muning: Compensation.

 

So, after days of silence, Jiang Muning had decided to compensate her with money.

 

The word compensation stung. Chi Yunhan’s chest tightened. What, was she supposed to take the million and just walk away?

 

Chi Yunhan scowled at the screen and typed: I’d almost forgotten about it. It’s not like I was demanding compensation from you.

 

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She had genuinely believed things could progress between them, but this Alpha was so backward and heartless.

 

Ugh! Disgusting!

 

Her fingers flew across the keyboard: Who wants your dirty money? You think just because you’re rich, you’re special? I don’t care about your money. How can you be so old-fashioned? Can’t you think positively for once?

 

I’m a great person! Absolutely amazing!

 

Jiang Muning: I’m not old-fashioned. I’m being practical.

 

Chi Yunhan exploded, spamming “You scumbag!” over a dozen times before adding, “Why don’t you just scum yourself to death?”

 

At the same time, another message from Jiang Muning arrived.

 

Jiang Muning: Since I’ve already taken you by force, I think it’d be irresponsible not to marry you. Practically speaking, I have to take responsibility.

 

Jiang Muning: Will you marry me?

 

A few seconds later, another message followed.

 

What did you just unsend?