Queen O's Timid Fugitive A - Chapter 5

5

“Xu Fusheng…”

The voice was faint and weak, tinged with melancholy. Beads of water slid down a sharply defined jaw, soaking the thin shirt, revealing faint glimpses of pale curves beneath. Jiang Ciqing stared blankly at the figure beside her, unable to distinguish reality from illusion.

A woman in a red dress leaned lazily against the doorframe. Thin straps crossed over her straight collarbones, and the silk clung tightly to her body, outlining her graceful curves. Her strikingly beautiful features radiated innate elegance and a cool arrogance. She always seemed to carry a subtle air of sharpness when looking down at others.

Black eyes met crimson ones for a long moment—one dazed and sluggish, the other indifferent and aloof, perched above.

Just when Jiang Ciqing was about to convince herself it was nothing but a drunken dream, the woman finally moved. She shook something in her right hand and stepped forward in her red-soled lambskin heels. Water eagerly clung to her legs.

—Tap, tap.

The damp footsteps were muffled. With her mind clouded by alcohol, Jiang Ciqing just sat there, watching as the woman walked toward her.

The woman’s posture was casual yet inherently commanding. Even in a cramped, wet bathroom, she exuded the presence of someone gazing down from a high throne.

Perhaps emboldened by alcohol or convinced it was just a dream she’d forget upon waking, the cowardly Alpha—who had been avoiding her since they met—suddenly reached out, grabbed at the thin fabric of her clothes, and yanked down, as if trying to drag her off her pedestal.

But the earlier heat had already left her weak. The fabric didn’t even wrinkle under her tug. The attempt looked more like a child pulling at someone’s sleeve in a spoiled pout than any forceful act.

The filled bathtub trembled, sloshing water over its edge.

The heavy scent of bamboo that once dominated the room was now being swallowed by strong alcohol—its subtlety replaced by the pungent bite of tequila.

Xu Fusheng looked down, her silver hair falling over her eyes, hiding her expression.

“Xu Fusheng…” Jiang Ciqing repeated in a muffled, confused tone, her wide, watery eyes resembling a puppy’s plea for affection.

After a moment, muddied fingers hooked around her ice-cold, purplish fingertips—as if responding.

But the familiar, real sensation startled Jiang Ciqing. She quickly drew her hand back, bumping into the porcelain wall and earning another bruise.

Water surged around her, echoing the frantic pounding of a panicked heart.

Xu Fusheng frowned slightly, irritated by the other’s flinch. The guilt she had briefly felt from seeing the marks on Jiang Ciqing’s body was now converted into fuel for her anger.

The pungent scent of alcohol filled the small space, and the mischievous Omega, instead of helping, threw dry wood onto the fire.

“Mm…”

Jiang Ciqing let out a strained sound, her mind numbed by heat and drink, abandoning all pride and responding purely by instinct.

Her heels clicked against the wet tiles as she bent one leg, perching casually on the edge of the tub. Her thigh brushed against Jiang Ciqing’s tense back. She leaned slightly forward, looking down like a god surveying her fallen devotee.

“Shi Yi…” she whispered, her voice husky and unreadable—part sigh, part restraint.

She may have triggered the Alpha’s heat on purpose, but Jiang Ciqing wasn’t the only one who had endured these three years alone. When the scent of tequila mingled with bamboo, it sent sparks across a long-parched desert.

But Xu Fusheng’s powerful S-class mental strength allowed her to suppress her discomfort, holding onto a final shred of clarity—unlike the now disheveled Jiang Ciqing.

“I’m not… I didn’t…” Jiang Ciqing protested instinctively.

Her fingers clenched the edge of the tub. This Omega she believed to be cold and unfeeling had somehow made her stumble again and again, her emotions easily provoked.

“Shi…” The second syllable lingered on her tongue before she gave in and whispered, “Jiang Ciqing.”

Jiang Ciqing still resisted, blinking slowly.

The roles seemed reversed now. The Omega, who had always been pampered by the Alpha, had now become the one making compromises.

“Why do you always have to make me angry?” Xu Fusheng asked, as if it were a final warning.

Jiang Ciqing, two years her junior, had far less experience in life. Her eyes still held traces of childishness. She muttered under her breath, “I didn’t… You’re making things up.”

That made Xu Fusheng laugh—angrily: “Making things up? Jiang Ciqing, do you even have a heart?”

She was the one abandoned after being marked. She was the one who searched the vast desert for her. She was the one who flew across thousands of miles at the slightest news. Yet all Jiang Ciqing did was deny and avoid, desperate to draw a line between them.

Xu Fusheng lifted Jiang Ciqing’s chin, forcing her to tilt her head up. Her gaze shifted to the gland hidden behind dark hair. Water continued to crash against the tub walls, tiny droplets sneaking into every crevice like bamboo-scented ink.

Now with nothing to hide, Xu Fusheng let loose her pheromones, deliberately lingering in sensitive areas, teasing like a siren’s call.

Her fingertip slid across Jiang Ciqing’s Adam’s apple. The dim lighting made her peach blossom eyes appear even more alluring.

Jiang Ciqing, already overwhelmed, whimpered softly under the stimulation, her face scrunched up in discomfort and frustration.

Her tailored suit pants, once a perfect fit, now clung uncomfortably after being soaked. She kicked at the water in protest.

“Jiang Ciqing,” Xu Fusheng called again, voice laced with a sigh.

“Mm?” Jiang Ciqing lifted her gaze, eyes misty with tears, like a child on the verge of crying.

“Beg me…”

Silver strands floated on the water’s surface, tangled with black hair.

Jiang Ciqing didn’t respond. She turned her head away, avoiding her touch.

Xu Fusheng wasn’t used to being denied like this. After being pushed away again, her gaze darkened. She let the water soak her red dress, releasing her pheromones in full force—hotter and sharper than before, almost like blades across the skin.

“Hiss…”

The puppy who had been acting tough finally reached out, clutching at her skirt like a lifeline.

But Xu Fusheng wasn’t going to let her off easy this time. Even if she had to suffer alongside her, she would drag her down together.

The edge of the tub cracked under her grip. White powder floated on the water, drifting toward the drain.

It was a lose-lose battle. Neither would yield. They could only torment each other in this clumsy, painful dance.

Outside, the wind had picked up. Bamboo stalks swayed and clashed. The mountains in the distance blurred into fog.

Footsteps passed by. A servant placed a tray of clean clothes and suppressants outside the door, then quietly left.

This was routine in the Jiang household. During this sensitive period, Jiang Ciqing was to be left completely alone—no interruptions allowed.

No one objected. It was common sense. Most AOs became fragile and easily triggered during heat or rut. Anyone other than the one who marked or was marked by them was considered a danger.

“Jiang Ciqing.”

The bamboo scent had been entirely overtaken by tequila. Xu Fusheng’s eyes now glowed red, as if she were intoxicated.

“Mm?” came the soft, teary reply—weak and clingy.

“Beg me,” Xu Fusheng repeated.

“No,” Jiang Ciqing replied stubbornly, even in her current state.

Veins bulged on Xu Fusheng’s hand. She clenched her jaw tightly, her eyes tinged with red.

Jiang Ciqing was, after all, the lowest-ranking Alpha. Despite all her efforts to compensate, her mental strength was still vastly inferior to Xu Fusheng’s. She was helpless under the Omega’s pressure, her desires stirred into chaos.

No one knew how long passed. Xu Fusheng, set on punishment, wouldn’t back down even if it meant hurting herself.

The burning aroma of alcohol seemed ready to ignite the tiny room. Jiang Ciqing floated and sank in the water. Her lips dipped below the surface, and for a moment, it felt like she was tasting the perfect shot of tequila—biting and consuming.

Then—quietly, timidly—she reached out and hooked her pinky around Xu Fusheng’s. Not gripping—just resting against it. A light touch, easily swayed by the water.

Cold water no longer worked. The only cure was within reach, just above her head, cruelly close.

Beads of water slid down her jaw. Her long legs curled and stretched, and though she wore no chains, she seemed bound by something invisible, still struggling.

—Clink.

A crisp metallic sound.

Jiang Ciqing, barely conscious, forced her eyes open.

The leather collar, once hidden under her pillow, had somehow reappeared. Xu Fusheng clipped it back around her neck.

The brass bell had been stuffed with cotton and soaked—no longer capable

of making a sound.

Looking up, Jiang Ciqing saw the woman straddling her, red dress drifting with the water, silver hair floating like luxury threads.

“Don’t lose it again,” she said coldly.

Rationality screamed at Jiang Ciqing to throw the collar away, to run as far as she could. But when the next wave of tequila scent hit, she couldn’t help but lunge forward, trying to embrace her like a parched traveler clinging to a block of ice.

But that block of ice was cruel and cold. Xu Fusheng caught her by the shoulders and shoved her back effortlessly.

The skinny girl fell back into the water again, grabbing the tub’s edge and hauling herself up. Her half-wet black hair clung to her face like a drenched stray dog.

Water ran down her body. She looked up again, long lashes trembling, eyes glistening with unshed tears. The unbearable heat became liquid that clung to her lashes, finally dripping down.

Xu Fusheng took it all in.

Her throat bobbed slightly—but she didn’t move.

Outside, the wind had died down.