Queen O's Timid Fugitive A - Chapter 4

4

The carriage speeding through the night came to a halt in front of a bamboo grove. The coachman quickly dismounted and set up a stepping stool. A crescent moon tore through the thin clouds, revealing half its body. The wind rustled the bamboo leaves as Jiang Ciqing, her expression cold and detached, stepped down from the carriage.

“You may go rest,” she hurriedly tossed out the words before hastily making her way inside. The shirt she had hastily straightened still bore faint wrinkles, the collar deliberately pulled up and partially concealed by her shoulder-length hair.

“Yes…” The coachman quickly acknowledged, then scratched his head in confusion, unable to understand why the usually composed family head had acted so rashly.

The servants guarding the entrance scrambled to open the gate. The wooden corridor, lit by candlelight, disappeared into the bamboo grove. Jiang Ciqing hurried along, her steps scattering the dim shadows of the bamboo like a thief fleeing in panic.

Fortunately, she had instructed everyone earlier that she wouldn’t return overnight, allowing them to rest early—sparing her the trouble of dodging prying eyes.

—Bang!

The wooden door of the two-story building was flung open, only to be slammed shut the next second. She collapsed face-first onto the soft bed, sinking into the bedding, enveloped by the familiar scent of bamboo. Her frantic heartbeat finally began to steady.

Her thoughts were a tangled mess, an indescribable mix of emotions knotted together, clogging her chest and refusing to dissipate.

The moon-white satin sheets were soft, yet the marks left by her tight grip still ached from the unavoidable friction. Her brows furrowed in distress, helpless against the torment.

The blocker patch on the back of her neck had long since disappeared. The rich, sweet scent of bamboo, now laced with alcohol, filled the room, the two pheromones blending into a sharp yet mellow bamboo-infused liquor.

—Knock, knock knock!

A sudden rapping came from downstairs. Jiang Ciqing’s expression darkened, but she didn’t respond, instead tightening her grip on the thin quilt.

Outside, the bamboo grove rustled in the wind. A hunched old woman in her sixties, clad in a dark housekeeper’s uniform, stood at the half-lit doorway, her head slightly bowed and eyelids half-lowered. Her aged, murky eyes, though deliberately subdued, unintentionally exuded a gloomy air.

Receiving no response, she waited a moment, tilting her head to listen for any movement inside—utter silence, not a single sound.

She showed no disappointment. Instead, she raised her withered hand and knocked again lightly.

—Knock, knock knock!

This time, she didn’t wait. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The unlit living room was pitch black, yet she navigated the stairs with practiced ease.

The knocking sounded again, this time closer. The person inside could no longer pretend not to hear. A muffled response came, the voice clear and crisp, like spring water trickling over smooth black stones in a bamboo grove, droplets splashing in ripples: “Come in.”

—Creak!

The door swung open, and the old woman shuffled in, hunched over. Her gaze first landed on the bed, where Jiang Ciqing was pitifully cocooned in the quilt. Her murky eyes softened with affection, the wrinkles on her face smoothing into tenderness. “Family Head, why have you returned so suddenly?”

“Aunt Sun, I…” Jiang Ciqing, wrapped up like a silkworm, frowned as if in great pain.

The woman called Aunt Sun immediately stepped forward, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

Jiang Ciqing tugged at the quilt, revealing only half of her flushed face, her voice strained with embarrassment. “My… my rut came early…”

Aunt Sun paused. As a Beta, she couldn’t smell the thick pheromones in the air, but having raised Jiang Ciqing since childhood, she knew exactly how to care for an Alpha in the throes of their cycle.

Without hesitation, she strode forward, pulled out a syringe of suppressants from the drawer, and deftly pressed Jiang Ciqing down, jabbing the needle into the scent gland at the back of her neck.

The disheveled hair at her nape obscured most of her skin. Even if any marks were glimpsed, they would be mistaken for self-inflicted wounds from her struggle against the pain.

Once done, Aunt Sun stepped back to the bedside, her face full of concern. “Why was it so sudden this time?”

No wonder she was surprised—this rut had arrived much earlier than usual.

Jiang Ciqing didn’t answer, still lying face-down on the bed, her slender fingers gripping the pillowcase tightly as she panted heavily, as if enduring unbearable agony. Beads of sweat rolled down her sharp jawline, dampening the sheets beneath her in moments.

After a long while, she seemed to recover slightly, her voice weak. “Aunt Sun, I’m fine now.”

“I want to take a bath…” She changed the subject, her tone apologetic. “Please send someone to explain to the Third Princess on my behalf.”

The old woman, reassured, nodded. “I understand.”

Aunt Sun had always been reliable. Jiang Ciqing relaxed, her damp head resting against the pillow, exhaustion evident.

Aunt Sun turned and headed to the adjoining bathroom, filling the tub before taking her leave.

Only when the footsteps faded entirely did Jiang Ciqing suddenly throw off the quilt and flip over. Her half-lidded eyes, clenched jaw, and the sweat-drenched bruises on her neck, along with the wrinkled shirt and crooked black tie, painted a picture of disarray. The crescent moon hid behind the clouds again, as if too shy to look closely.

The sudden onset of her rut was real, but the relief was feigned. The suppressants had long since lost their effect on her. The earlier calm was merely an act—to outsiders, she remained the newly appointed head of the Jiang family, an Alpha devoted solely to forging blades and famously single.

Rumor had it she still ranked on the Imperial Capital’s “Most Eligible Bachelor Alphas” list this year.

As for why her rut had arrived so abruptly…

It was simply because, after forcibly enduring three years, she had finally come into contact with the Omega who had marked her. The alcohol-tainted scent gland had begun to stir.

The physical and mental pressure crashed over her like a tidal wave, like a withered blade of grass in a desert, parched for over a decade, now desperately craving the burn of strong liquor.

The taste of sweetness made the heat even more unbearable than before.

Jiang Ciqing roughly tore open her restrictive shirt, the agate buttons scattering to the floor. The damp night air rushed in, but it wasn’t enough. She gasped for breath like a fish stranded on shore.

This wouldn’t do…

She closed her eyes, mustering what little strength she had left, then dragged herself toward the edge of the bed.

Her legs were weak…

Stepping onto the hard wooden floor felt like treading on clouds, requiring immense effort just to stand steadily.

Her dark eyes dimmed. She pressed her lips together, disliking moments like these. Though she knew it was an unavoidable biological response, every rut felt like a cruel reminder of her inadequacy—an E-rank Alpha artificially elevated by a high-ranking Omega’s mark, now stripped bare in these moments.

Without the innate strength and mental fortitude of a true Alpha, she was weaker than even the most delicate Omega. No matter how much effort and sweat she poured into training, she couldn’t change her fundamental nature.

Jiang Ciqing fell silent for a moment before exhaling heavily, forcing herself to stop dwelling on it.

Then, bracing against the wall, she staggered toward the bathroom. Passing a liquor cabinet, she grabbed a bottle of tequila at random before pushing open the bathroom door.

The bathroom was one of the few places in the Jiang residence that barely kept up with modern times, equipped with running water and a bathtub. Stumbling forward, she finally reached the white porcelain tub and collapsed into it, turning on the cold water tap.

Aunt Sun had initially drawn a lukewarm bath, but it did nothing to soothe her burning heat. Only when the icy water cascaded over her did she finally feel some relief.

Her gaze fell on the bottle in her hand. As a youth, she hadn’t cared much for alcohol, finding it harsh on the throat and hard to swallow. Even the sweetest fruit wines were unpalatable compared to milk—or the trendy, ubiquitous milk tea everyone seemed to be drinking these days.

But the nobles of Nanliang considered such tastes shameful, insisting that only wine and tea were fit for the upper class. Milk was for children who hadn’t yet presented.

Jiang Ciqing peeled her dry lips apart, the metallic tang of bl00d spreading across her tongue.

The tub was already full, the cold water spilling over the edges. The cork bobbed on the rippling surface, struggling to stay afloat.

Neither milk nor milk tea mattered now. The only salvation was tequila, the only thing that could dull her torment. Leaning against the cold porcelain, Jiang Ciqing let the amber liquid spill from the corner of her mouth, trailing down her slender neck.

The liquor was too strong—harsh and bitter. Connoisseurs would temper it with lemon or salt to mask tequila’s natural bite, never subjecting themselves to the self-flagellation of chugging it straight like Jiang Ciqing. It was no different from stabbing one’s own throat.

But for her, the pain brought a sliver of relief—especially since it resembled the taste of her mark’s scent.

The empty bottle was tossed aside. The liquor’s aroma melded with the bamboo, her obsidian eyes glazed with a hazy mist. Her translucent shirt floated like seaweed in the water, her slender body flushed as if scalded, her black hair drifting like underwater plants.

A substitute could never compare to the real thing. Temporary relief only made the ensuing emptiness more unbearable. No one could escape their instincts; they could only surrender to its ravages.

Outside, the night deepened, the world falling into silence. Even the ever-elusive moon had vanished. Wild roses bloomed unseen on the cliffs.

Inside, the sound of running water was ceaseless, like an unending waterfall, pooling on the bathroom floor into a small lake.

If only I weren’t an Alpha… The fleeting thought crossed Jiang Ciqing’s mind amid the agony.

But she knew better. To relinquish her Alpha status would mean losing everything—the Jiang family she had sworn to protect, the ideals she had upheld since childhood. So she endured.

Having traded candy with the devil, she had no choice but to bear the punishment that followed.

The veins on her forearm bulged. Intermittent sobs escaped her lips.

Had anyone witnessed this scene—the famously aloof and composed Jiang family Alpha reduced to such a pitiful state—they would have been torn between shock and disdain.

In her blurred vision, fragmented light coalesced into piercing rays. For a fleeting moment, a familiar red dress flickered at the edge of her sight.

Jiang Ciqing froze, tilting her head up to stare blankly ahead.

She couldn’t tell if it was drunken hallucination or reality.