Toxic Pheromones of a Scumbag Alpha (GL) - Chapter 16

Tan Zishu threw a sharp jab:
“You crossed half the city just to come to a hospital near my house. What exactly are you trying to pull?”

Jiang Jiaran rolled her eyes. “I just like this hospital. Problem?”

Tan Zishu didn’t skip a beat: “You have an ulterior motive.”

Jiang Jiaran shot back: “And you don’t?”

Tan Zishu: “Of course not.”

Jiang Jiaran instantly replied, “Yeah, right.”

Tan Zishu: “I don’t need you to believe me.”

Ji Yao, stuck between the two: “…”

These two were both public figures—famous, polished, always in the spotlight.
So why were they arguing like elementary school kids?!

Jiang Jiaran glanced meaningfully at Ji Yao, and said with a layered tone,
“Big sis, don’t believe a word she says. She’s after you for—”

Tan Zishu cut her off, her voice icy:
“She doesn’t even know you. Stop calling her ‘big sis’ like you’re close. Do you even know her?”

Ji Yao silently edged toward the corner of the elevator, praying not to get caught in the eye of the storm.

Jiang Jiaran bit her lip and stepped forward. “Big sis, don’t be fooled by her proper little act—she’s just lusting after your body!”

Silence.

The elevator went dead quiet.

Ji Yao didn’t even want to turn around to look at either of them.

The level of awkwardness in the air could’ve flattened a small planet.

Question: What’s more tragic than raising a rebellious brat?

Answer: When the rebellious brat grows up… and starts lusting after you.

And even worse?
You agreed to it. For reasons.

Ji Yao turned to Tan Zishu with a death glare laced with murderous shame.
This is what I get for letting you into my life.

Tan Zishu gave a sheepish smile—like someone receiving an award they knew they didn’t deserve.

Jiang Jiaran interpreted their eye contact as blame on Ji Yao’s part, and apology on Tan Zishu’s. That just made her more eager to expose the truth.

She jabbed a finger at Tan Zishu and declared,
“She’s no good, big sis. I’m saying this today, right here: stay as far away from her as possible. One day, when you find out what she’s really after, you’ll be disgusted.”

Please stop talking.

Ji Yao felt a cold numbness spread up her spine. She was seconds away from faking unconsciousness just to end this nightmare.

But Jiang Jiaran wasn’t done. She grabbed Tan Zishu’s sleeve, her voice rising:
“Tan Zishu, you know exactly what kind of relationship you two have! How dare you…”

Ji Yao was ready to scream: Let the whole world burn. I deserve this. I’ve lived a sinful life, and now it’s all coming back to bite me.

And then Jiang Jiaran went for the final blow:
“Tan Zishu, tell me honestly—what identity do you have now, standing next to her like that?!”

Tan Zishu replied coolly, “What business is it of yours—”

Ji Yao interrupted at the exact same moment:
“She’s my sponsor.”

Jiang Jiaran: “…”

Tan Zishu: “…”

…What?

What did she just say?

Jiang Jiaran let out a faint, stunned syllable. “Huh?”

Tan Zishu turned to Ji Yao, genuinely thinking she must’ve misheard.
Ji Yao was always so dignified, so proper—how could she say something like that?

Ji Yao glanced at the two of them, their expressions as if they’d just been struck by lightning.
Finally, the silence around her felt peaceful. To ensure it stayed that way, she decided to go all in.

She dropped her dignity, tore off the last shreds of restraint, and sweetly clung to Tan Zishu’s arm, putting on her best demure little bird act:
“Or if you’d rather, I can call you ‘Master.’”

Tan Zishu’s heel buckled—she nearly hit the floor on the spot.

Jiang Jiaran’s vision went black as she reached for the elevator wall to stay upright.

And just like that, both sources of noise were neutralized.

Ji Yao calmly let go of Tan Zishu’s hand and waited expressionlessly for the elevator to reach the 11th floor.

Excellent. Neither of them dared say another word now.

Ji Yao (smug): You really thought I couldn’t handle the two of you?

One sentence, maximum damage. The shock had shut them both up.

Jiang Jiaran was now lost in a mental spiral, deeply questioning whether she’d mistaken Ji Yao for someone else.
The Ji Yao I knew always spoke with grace and dignity. She would never say anything like that…

No, no—it must be auditory hallucination. I’m too emotional. I must’ve misheard.

While Jiang Jiaran spiraled into confusion, Tan Zishu shot her a sideways glance, then silently inched closer to Ji Yao.

At five seconds, Tan Zishu was holding Ji Yao’s hand.
By the tenth second, she was shoulder to shoulder with her.
And by the time the elevator finally reached their floor… she was practically glued to Ji Yao’s back.

Ji Yao: “…”

The second they exited the elevator, Ji Yao tried to speed-walk away from the human barnacle beside her—but Tan Zishu immediately caught up.

Tan Zishu pouted sweetly, “Big sis, don’t leave me all alone. You know I get moody when I’m by myself… and when we alphas get moody, we lose control of our pheromones. And you know mine are dangerously toxic. If some poor soul catches a whiff—who knows what could happen~”

Ji Yao slowed her pace a little. “Oh? So you’re doing a good deed, then. I suppose I should praise you for your amazing self-control—after getting so mad earlier and still not releasing any pheromones to hurt someone.”

Tan Zishu smiled and gently brushed Ji Yao’s palm with hers. “Praise isn’t necessary. Just give me a little treat.”

Ji Yao snorted. “Don’t try to emotionally blackmail me. Who taught you to be this shameless?”
She flicked Tan Zishu’s hand lightly with her fingers.
“Don’t think I care. No treats. If you’re so confident, go back there and hit her with your pheromones. Let’s see what happens.”

Just behind them, Jiang Jiaran had just caught the tail end of that sentence—and froze. Instantly.

Nope. Not chasing anymore.

She had completely forgotten, in her fit of rage, that Tan Zishu had a secret weapon: a toxic pheromone signature.

Rumor had it, any Omega exposed to Tan Zishu’s scent lost the ability to conceive—and even other Alphas’ pheromones would lose effect afterward.

There was no way she’d risk that. She was still young, still an Omega, still had options. Even if she couldn’t win over Ji Yao, she needed to keep herself marketable.

There was no way she’d risk becoming collateral damage to Tan Zishu’s pheromones of doom.

Luckily, the other person hadn’t made things difficult for her in the elevator just now.

The two people ahead quickly left Jiang Jiaran behind.

Ji Yao walked quickly, and Tan Zishu followed close behind, not letting her out of sight for even half a step.

Tan Zishu asked, “Sister, what made you suddenly decide to come to the hospital today?”

Ji Yao took a deep breath, feeling a little emotional.

—The last time the two of them were out together, it had been her chasing after Tan Zishu, gritting her teeth and calling her “Sister Tan.” But ever since she had come clean, Tan Zishu never asked her to say that again. Instead, she had been the one calling Ji Yao “Sister” ever since.

…Strange, really. She never got that kind of treatment when she was alive.

Back during Tan Zishu’s rebellious phase, she was always cold toward Ji Yao—acting like Ji Yao owed her two million yuan. Even in front of others, she refused to say “Sister.” Every time she spoke, it was either just “you” or she’d say “Ji Yao” straight out, without a trace of affection.

But after her death—and return—that “Sister” came far too easily.

—And by the sound of it, Tan Zishu was getting quite used to saying it.

“You sure sound natural calling me ‘Sister’ now,” Ji Yao said.

She studied the girl closely: over 170 centimeters tall, with a cool, aloof expression that carried a hint of world-weariness—yet now she was forcing a smile, one she probably hadn’t used in hundreds of years, just for Ji Yao.

Ji Yao had seen her in videos before. Even when dealing with important people, Tan Zishu never smiled like this. No matter how powerful someone was, she always looked indifferent.

That comparison alone made Ji Yao realize—she was different. Special.

Tan Zishu raised her hand and swore, “I mean it sincerely.”

Ji Yao arched an eyebrow. “Sincerely?”

At some point, Tan Zishu had taken her hand again. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll open myself up and show you. Convenient, since we’re already at the hospital.”

Ji Yao was speechless.

…That really wasn’t necessary.

With just a few short exchanges, the two of them were smoothly led in for a full set of third-attribute tests.

But just before it started, Tan Zishu suddenly backed out. “Sister, I don’t need to do mine.”

When she was younger, Ji Yao used to take her to medical checkups. One adult, one child—they’d always go together.

But back then, they never had to do third-attribute tests. Just the usual physical exams.

Biological s3x is categorized as male or female. But the third attribute—Alpha, Beta, or Omega—involves pheromone testing and other, more private aspects.

Ji Yao understood. Tan Zishu had some issues with her pheromones. If she didn’t fully trust the hospital or the doctor, she wouldn’t easily share that kind of personal information. If anything went wrong, with her current status, it would become a serious problem that needed special handling.

So maybe it was better to avoid the risk.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you the whole time… just like when you used to take me to the hospital as a kid,” Tan Zishu said, gripping Ji Yao’s hand tightly. Her voice was gentle but steady—just like that night, when she had opened up her heart. Sincere. Genuine.

“The saddest, loneliest thing in the world is coming to the hospital alone. Sister, during the most important years of my life, you were always there for me…” She paused, then lowered her head. “Thank you.”

Saying thank you now… was already much too late.

When she was little, Tan Zishu had a sharp tongue and couldn’t express what was in her heart. Everything she couldn’t say got buried deep inside. Looking back now, every word she held in had turned into a knife that stabbed her chest during the long, silent nights after losing Ji Yao.

Even if she now chased after Ji Yao, saying everything she once refused to admit, it still couldn’t heal the scars left on her heart.

Tan Zishu sat quietly beside Ji Yao, watching nurses come and go from the hospital room. Her eyes were unfocused as memories of childhood nightmares crept back into her mind.

In those nightmares, she returned to her hometown of Lancang. A thick fog hung over the village road. In the middle of the night, barefoot, she was running away—something terrifying was always chasing her, trying to drag her back to the place she hated most.

Ji Yao’s figure was just ahead.

Little Tan Zishu ran until she was breathless. Her face stayed calm, but her heart ached so badly she wanted to cry.

Even in the dream, she was aware—painfully so—that Ji Yao had died. That was why she feared so much that the figure in front of her would leave her behind.

But Ji Yao didn’t.

That figure always waited just a little ahead, never going too far, until Tan Zishu had escaped the nightmare village. Only then did she vanish into the fog.

…Even in death, Ji Yao still led her out of the nightmare.

Later, Tan Zishu made a vow: if Ji Yao ever came back, she would lay bare every piece of her heart—every truth she had once been too afraid or too proud to say.

Why hold back anymore?

She wasn’t afraid now.

Compared to losing her, opening up was nothing to fear.

“You’re getting sentimental all of a sudden. Figured things out?” Ji Yao smiled, letting her hand fall naturally to her side as the head nurse prepared the injection.

Tan Zishu gave a faint, bitter smile. “Yeah.”

It felt like punishment—the way she kept falling into the same cycle of pain. Time had tortured her, replaying the heartbreak over and over again until her feelings changed shape.

Pain, regret, guilt… slowly twisted into obsessive love and possessiveness.