The Salted-Fish Alpha and the Actress Got Their Marriage Certificate - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

What to do!

Ye Cike usually tore open her drinks with her teeth, so how could she have known that Xi Ling’s strength was so feeble that she’d even rip the inhibitor packet crookedly?

The scent of fresh grass, tinged with dampness, lingered relentlessly, shaking Ye Cike’s fragile nerves with every passing moment. And the omega in front of her, with eyes shimmering like water, stared at her unblinkingly, as if expecting a reasonable solution.

Absurd—how could such a low concentration of omega pheromones overturn her rationality? Could this be another symptom of pheromone disorder syndrome?

“Scissors?” Ye Cike asked through gritted teeth, her words rapid, as if each syllable risked tasting the sweet, clear essence of pheromones on her tongue.

Xi Ling frowned and shook her head, looking distressed.

“Your own inhibitor?”

“It’s probably in my suitcase,” Xi Ling said, tilting her head with a dazed expression. “But I don’t have the strength to stand up.”

The unnatural flush on her face didn’t make her look healthier; instead, it added a startling fragility. She was like a rain-soaked rosebud, on the verge of blooming.

Ye Cike’s eyes darkened. Her rationality urged her to turn away. “I’ll find someone to get it for you.”

If she stayed any longer, she’d need an inhibitor herself.

Unexpectedly, a slender hand suddenly grabbed the hem of her clothes. Ye Cike froze, not daring to move an inch.

“Why find someone else?” Xi Ling’s voice, laced with grievance and confusion, sounded behind her. A jolt ran down Ye Cike’s spine, her fingers trembling faintly.

Xi Ling lowered her head, speaking glumly. “I don’t want others to see me like this. Ye Cike, can you… help me?”

She sounded so sad, as if she might cry.

Omegas became fragile and sensitive during their heat, and Xi Ling seemed even more so, brazenly tugging at Ye Cike’s limits with her soft voice and sweet pheromones.

And Ye Cike fell for it.

She turned, snatched the inhibitor packet from Xi Ling’s hand, and, under Xi Ling’s stunned gaze, bit it open.

The cool, medicinal inhibitor slid down her throat, dispelling the lingering grassy scent. Ye Cike’s mind cleared, her stalled thoughts starting to churn again.

With the packet still in her mouth, she strode to Xi Ling’s suitcase in a few steps, mumbling, “Where is it?”

Xi Ling was silent for a moment before saying faintly, “In the inner pocket.”

Ye Cike rummaged through the suitcase for a few seconds, finding a box nestled among soft clothes. She pulled it out—a small bottle of inhibitor, complete with a straw.

Relief washed over her. She grabbed a bottle, hurried back to the bed, and handed it to Xi Ling.

But as Xi Ling reached out, her movements weak and listless, Ye Cike quickly pulled the bottle back.

In a swift motion, she twisted off the cap, inserted the straw, and even thoughtfully held the bottle to Xi Ling’s lips, terrified she might drop and shatter it.

“Don’t move, just drink!” Ye Cike, still holding the packet in her mouth, urged in a fierce, anxious tone.

Xi Ling’s lips pursed slightly, but she obediently lowered her head and sipped through the straw.

She drank slowly, guided by Ye Cike’s hand, taking small sips. As the liquid in the glass bottle dwindled, the pheromone concentration in the room faded, dissipating further with a breeze.

Ye Cike let out a long breath.

The room was quiet, save for the occasional sound of swallowing. From Ye Cike’s angle, she could see Xi Ling’s pale neck peeking through her hair.

So obedient, like feeding a kitten.

When Xi Ling finished and lifted her head, a trace of moisture lingered on her lips, quickly licked away.

She leaned back slightly and said softly, “Thank you.”

The moment the feeding ended, the once-compliant kitten put distance between them. Ye Cike felt an odd pang in her chest.

She couldn’t tell if it was regret or something else, but the feeling was quickly overshadowed by concern.

No longer biting the packet, Ye Cike studied Xi Ling’s expression. “Feeling better?”

“Mhm,” Xi Ling nodded faintly. “Sorry for the trouble.”

Her demeanor was cool and composed. If not for the faint redness at the corners of her eyes, Ye Cike might have thought the earlier tears and grievances were a dream.

Ye Cike lowered her gaze, clutching the empty glass bottle and packet, ready to throw them out.

“If it’s too much, just take a break from the show.”

Xi Ling shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Then I’m leaving.” Without waiting for a reply, Ye Cike headed for the door.

“Wait.”

Ye Cike turned back. Xi Ling sat on the bed’s edge, one hand clutching her skirt, creating faint creases.

“Can I buy some oranges to eat tomorrow?” It was phrased like a question but carried a coquettish tone.

Realizing this, Ye Cike didn’t hesitate. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

A distant thank-you. Ye Cike sighed inwardly, then closed the door.

She was distracted, only realizing as she tossed the packet that she’d downed an entire dose of inhibitor outside her susceptible period.

Trouble.

Inhibitors suppressed pheromone release, but with her pheromone disorder syndrome, the doctor had warned against using them unless necessary.

Her pheromones had already turned orange-scented. Who knew what new side effects might emerge?

Wait—oranges?

Ye Cike suddenly realized Xi Ling had mentioned wanting oranges tomorrow.

She frowned in confusion. “Is that… a coincidence?”

Meanwhile, in the room, Xi Ling rubbed her temples, her expression puzzled.

Her fingers brushed her rosy lips as she murmured, “Why would someone carry an inhibitor around?”

At dawn, the crow of a rooster pierced the quiet courtyard.

Ye Cike sat at the table, her face cold, radiating an unapproachable aura.

Woken early by the show’s blaring loudspeaker, they were then tasked with going ten kilometers to a town market to sell the provided eggs.

But Ye Cike just wanted to sleep. After last night’s chaos, she’d barely slept, haunted by dreams of feeding cats.

Exhausted.

The cameraman didn’t dare speak, and the room was deathly silent.

He’d confirmed Ye Cike had severe morning grumpiness. Despite warming to her after a day together, her expressionless demeanor still unnerved him.

He struggled to reconcile the Ye Cike who’d cooked a feast and invited him to eat with the one now emanating icy hostility.

Then Xi Ling breezed in, flashing Ye Cike a sweet, radiant smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Shall we go?”

Her voice was vibrant, like sunlight, instantly dispelling the room’s chill. Her early heat seemed to have left little impact.

Ye Cike glanced up, then lazily beckoned to Xi Ling after a moment.

“Hold out your hand.”

Xi Ling, puzzled but compliant, extended her hand. It was fair, with faint palm lines and slight calluses on her fingers.

Ye Cike pulled something from her pocket and placed it in Xi Ling’s palm.

Xi Ling froze. It was a boiled egg, still warm.

“Breakfast,” Ye Cike explained. “You didn’t eat much last night. You need something this morning.”

Xi Ling’s fingers curled around the egg, and she smiled lightly. “Thank you.”

“Ten kilometers… how to get there…” Ye Cike’s eyelids drooped, barely awake, her voice trailing off.

Walking was out of the question. Lying down was preferable to sitting, especially with a frail Xi Ling in tow.

Xi Ling suggested gently, “We could hitch a ride. Since it’s a morning market, there might be villagers going that way.”

“Fine, your call.” Ye Cike, too tired to think, agreed without protest.

Xi Ling picked up a bamboo basket, carefully counting the eggs provided by the show.

“We should add some rice husks to keep them from breaking,” she said, frowning as she scanned the room.

Ye Cike stood, retrieved straw from a corner of the courtyard, and handed it to Xi Ling. “No husks, but this’ll do.”

Xi Ling nodded, deftly layering straw and eggs in the basket before lifting it, intending to carry it herself.

Ye Cike swiftly pressed the basket down, exasperated. “I’ll do it.”

The frail girl always tried to take on strenuous tasks, not just for show—she genuinely believed she could handle them.

Not all omegas were delicate, some tougher than alphas, but Xi Ling was painfully thin.

With her history of fainting from low bl00d sugar, Ye Cike instinctively placed her in the “needs protection” category.

Xi Ling blinked but didn’t protest, stepping back to let Ye Cike take over.

Author’s Note:

Little Cat Xi showed Ye Cike her soft belly, meowing and trying to fish for attention.

But Ye Cike pulled out a blanket, tucked Little Cat Xi in, and even kindly secured the corners, urging her to sleep early.

All we can say is, Ye Cike, moral paragon!

Xi Ling: Fine, you’re something else.