Snatching My Stepsister's White Moonlight Omega - Chapter 7

Lin Xiangwan dragged her aching body into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. The scent of lilies seemed to permeate every pore, and each step away from its source required every ounce of her willpower.

In truth, the floral fragrance on her clothes had already dissipated; the cleansing spray she’d used was Quasi S-Tier. Yet the cloying sweetness lingered in her breath, and an uncontrollable heat still pulsed through her glands, veins, and every nerve ending.

Warm water cascaded down, streaming through her long hair and across her back. Lin Xiangwan tilted her head back, trying to purge the scent from her body, but her fingers betrayed her mind, drifting downward along the water’s flow.

It was all the fault of the Suppressant. Facing Xu Chen in this state—even a conscious Xu Chen—was far too dangerous. The moment the lily fragrance erupted, her mind nearly screamed, while every inch of skin Xu Chen had touched trembled with a desperate desire to succumb.

Without her memories, Xu Chen acted with reckless abandon. Did she truly forget the drug’s side effects and the Pheromone Act, or was she deliberately defying them? This was too dangerous… This kind of thing… must never…

In the fleeting moments of pleasure, far inferior to the euphoria induced by pheromones, Lin Xiangwan indulged herself for a few minutes before letting the water’s flow pull her back to reality.

As the water gradually cooled, the fragrance of shower gel and shampoo filled the air. When her dry hair draped over her shoulders, she regained her composure.

“When an individual has clearly communicated that they are under the effects of a Suppressant… any deliberate release of high-concentration oppressive or seductive pheromones, causing physiological suppression or mental distress… constitutes the crime of Pheromone Assault… leading to permanent glandular damage, mental breakdown, or death of the victim…”

Xu Chen sighed inwardly as she read the retrieved legal text. She now felt not only legally ignorant but also severely lacking in basic physiological knowledge.

Pheromone assault can be fatal… Such crucial information, and her brain couldn’t retain a single bit of it.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Lin Xiangwan emerged, dressed in a long-sleeved pajama set. Though her face still showed fatigue, her eyes were much clearer now.

“I’m sorry,” the casually dressed Alpha said, her voice still weak. “I need to rest soon and don’t have the energy to change again.”

“It was my fault,” Xu Chen admitted meekly. At this point, she was just grateful the other woman wasn’t holding her accountable.

“Don’t do this to anyone else. Anyone else would either demand compensation or take you straight to court—and they’d be justified,” Lin Xiangwan said, walking to the sofa and sitting a little distance away.

“Then why aren’t you?” Xu Chen asked, seizing the opportunity.

Lin Xiangwan paused. “I wanted you to trust me more. I’m sorry, I lied before. I do know about your background.”

Xu Chen frowned, staring at Lin Xiangwan, waiting for her to elaborate.

But Lin Xiangwan didn’t continue. Instead, she changed the subject. “Are you happy right now? Or, at least, are you happy today?”

“It’s alright,” Xu Chen replied casually, trying to steer the conversation back. “What does this have to do with my background?”

“Do you want to keep feeling this happy?” Lin Xiangwan pressed, her voice urgent.

The question was baited, but Xu Chen didn’t bite. Instead, she voiced her own doubts: “A day or two is fine, but anything longer is impossible. Whether it’s you or the Song family, I have no idea what you’re planning. It’s all so strange.”

“You don’t need to delve into it,” Lin Xiangwan said, lifting her gaze. Her eyes held a deep, distant quality, like the boundless sea stretching beyond the cruise ship. “As long as you don’t pry, I have the power to keep you this happy every day.”

“I believe that,” Xu Chen said, studying her expression, her unease growing. “But I still want to know why. Your abilities are your own affair, but I need to understand why me.”

“You… you have your own merits, of course. You know that yourself,” Lin Xiangwan said, her gaze softening with something akin to pity. “As I mentioned before, I have a conflict with them. What comes next might involve you, and I don’t want that.”

Xu Chen paused, as if grasping a key point. “Does what you’re planning have something to do with my background?”

Lin Xiangwan shook her head, her expression sincere. “No. But if you don’t distance yourself soon, you’ll inevitably find out.”

“Is my background… not a good thing for me?” Xu Chen asked.

“Yes,” Lin Xiangwan replied softly, her voice barely audible, yet her answer was resolute.

If they hadn’t just been intimate, Xu Chen would have released some pheromones to properly question the woman before her. But doing so twice in one day would not only be considered a serious offense under the Pheromone Act, but it could also overwhelm Lin Xiangwan’s body, leading to complications.

Looking at it this way, her earlier lack of resistance might have been… for this moment?

Xu Chen chuckled softly. “So, you’re saying you’re actually a good person?”

“I’m not a good person,” Lin Xiangwan said with a self-deprecating smile, the sorrow in her eyes deepening. “I simply understand that everything has a price. I’ve paid mine, and you will too. You’re fine as you are now. There’s no need to get involved in all this.”

“Fine as I am now?” Xu Chen pressed, her gaze fixed on Lin Xiangwan. “You mean living without knowing where I came from or where I’m going, like a bird living day to day, not even understanding why good days come my way—you call that ‘fine’?”

“We can marry, or we can have a public or secret relationship—the choice is yours,” Lin Xiangwan said, her expression earnest. “Once we’re together, you can start a business, do charity work, pursue art, or simply enjoy life. As long as you don’t drain Deep Space’s cash flow, you can do whatever you want.”

Xu Chen’s heart raced, her mind racing along with it. This kind of life was likely the dream of countless people. Even if Lin Xiangwan were old, wheelchair-bound, and reeking of old age, there would still be plenty willing to accept such an offer.

But the fact that Lin Xiangwan was willing to offer such terms only meant that what she wanted in return carried equal weight.

“What a tempting offer,” Xu Chen said, a slight smile curving her lips. “What’s the catch?”

Lin Xiangwan met her gaze unflinchingly. “Don’t pry into my affairs with the others, and don’t investigate your origins.”

“I refuse,” Xu Chen said, each word deliberate.

The terms were enticing, but she had never lacked money. Living a comfortable life wouldn’t be difficult; why mortgage away something so fundamental?

Lin Xiangwan paused, then sighed softly. “Tell me if you ever want to back out.”

“Sure,” Xu Chen agreed with a cheerful smile.

“I’m quite tired. I’ll be sleeping in tomorrow. Also, remember to dress properly when you look at the photos,” Lin Xiangwan added.

Xu Chen knew this was her dismissal. She tactfully picked up her terminal. “Get some rest. See you tomorrow.”

The night was deep. Xu Chen, dressed in an elegant evening gown and comfortable low-heeled leather shoes, walked down the thickly carpeted corridor. She suddenly realized that, judging by actions alone, Lin Xiangwan had been remarkably considerate and tolerant towards her.

But whether judged by actions or intentions, Xu Chen knew she had gone too far. First, she had spilled red wine, then accepted an escort job, received gifts, and launched a pheromone attack—every action driven by self-interest.

Looking at it this way, Lin Xiangwan’s extraordinary patience seemed almost absurd. Neither lust at first sight nor love at first sight could explain it. More likely… Lin Xiangwan had lied, and Xu Chen’s background had a significant impact on her.

Xu Chen decided to trust her judgment, temporarily placing Lin Xiangwan in the “under observation” category, her so-called foster mother and sister in the “potential villains” category, and the strange, incense-scented man in the “exploitable” category.

With her thoughts organized, she realized she had instinctively wandered into the staff dormitory area. Since she was already there, she chatted with her colleagues for a while, then contentedly picked up her luggage and headed to the room Lin Xiangwan had reserved for her.

The single room was small but far superior to the dormitory. After a blissful shower, she wrapped herself in pajamas and looked through her photo album for a while, but the more she looked, the more unsettled she felt.

Xu Chen’s perplexed and troubled expression was clearly visible to the other two women.

“Mom, why did she… why did she have to show up today of all days? It’s so annoying,” Song Jinshi said, her brow furrowed so deeply it could crush a fly, her voice laced with impatience.

“Isn’t this your fault for insisting on this route?” Song Yanzhou replied, her gaze fixed on the holographic screen. “I’ve checked—she’s been living nearby, working temporary jobs at banquets for cruise ships and high-end hotels. How did she manage to get all the way here?”

“Troublemakers always survive,” Song Jinshi muttered, her eyes also drawn to the screen. The face on the screen was captured from an unflattering angle, yet it remained flawlessly beautiful.

“Mom, do you think she really lost her memory?” Song Jinshi asked, her gaze fixed on the mole beneath the woman’s eye.

“Whether she did or not doesn’t matter,” Song Yanzhou said, glancing at her daughter with a warning tone. “As long as she comes back with me, I’ll handle the rest. Just stay out of my way and don’t ruin my plans.”

“What plans?” Song Jinshi shifted her gaze, scrutinizing her mother’s expression. “I’m all grown up now. Why won’t you tell me about her?”

“It’s not what you think,” Song Yanzhou said vaguely. “You’ll know when the time is right.”

“She’s an Omega, isn’t she?” Song Jinshi suddenly asked.

“Yes,” Song Yanzhou replied, a subtle smile playing on her lips. “It’s a pity I didn’t get to see what she was like during her differentiation period.”

Song Jinshi gritted her teeth inwardly, then softened her voice into a pleading tone. “Mom, can’t we just keep her from going back?”

Song Yanzhou’s expression darkened. “Don’t even think about it. If you’re worried, take that… whoever he is and go have some fun for a few days. Come back when I’ve resolved this. She’s just a cripple—only you care about her. Besides… she has someone else now. She won’t be competing with you.”

“Yes, she’s so capable. I’m only good enough to pick up the scraps,” Song Jinshi said, her voice dripping with bitterness. “If she’d shown up just a few days earlier, this engagement banquet wouldn’t have happened, would it?”

“You…” Song Yanzhou sighed, her tone a mix of disappointment and exasperation. “When Lin Xiangwan was twenty-three, she had already established herself in Deep Space. And you? At twenty-three, all you do is revolve around a crippled Alpha. What else are you capable of?”

“But Lin Xiangwan didn’t have…” Song Jinshi paused, replacing “dead mother” with a more tactful phrase, “…didn’t have anyone to shield her from the storm. You’re so strong and capable, and you refuse to let go of anything. Is it all my fault?”

“Once this matter is settled,” Song Yanzhou gestured vaguely toward the holographic screen, “if you handle things well, you’ll have plenty to keep you busy in the future.”

Song Jinshi’s curiosity was piqued. “Who… who exactly is she?”

The holographic screen went dark as Xu Chen stuffed the old-fashioned terminal into her bag. Song Yanzhou smiled subtly again. “You can’t ask it like that. She’s no one.”

Xu Chen zipped up her backpack, paused, and then shoved the entire bag into a locker.

The single room had no ocean view window, and it was eerily quiet. The dim yellow light cast a soft glow on the bed, stirring a strange, subtle itch in her heart.

Her messaging app was flooded with unread messages, most of which she dismissed with a glance at the sender’s profile picture. Though Lin Xiangwan was undeniably odd, compared to her, the other “fish” in her life seemed like mere shrimp.

At the top of her contacts was a user named “Ember,” with a profile picture of a solid white block. The last message from them was three days ago: “Sorry, the pressure from my family is too much. Can you wait a bit? If not, it’s okay.”

Remembering Lin Xiangwan’s words—”Don’t contact me again”—Xu Chen removed Ember from her pinned contacts. Just don’t contact me… she didn’t say I had to delete him. That should be enough.

Always keep a backup plan. Who knows what the future holds?

Her adoptive mother still hadn’t replied. Xu Chen mentally reviewed the people she’d met and the events of the day, suddenly deciding to go home tomorrow morning.

Lin Xiangwan had said she wouldn’t wake up early, and with her gentle temperament, Xu Chen should be back before noon.