Transmigrated as the Disabled Alpha of the Yandere Film Empress - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Before she left, Dr. Song Lu reminded her in a calm voice:

“Remember, you can only inject the inhibitor into the latent gland.”

Sun Jia smiled gently at him. “I know.”

In the ABO classification system, top-level omegas often have different physiological structures compared to regular ones. For example, the rare 3S-level omegas typically possess dual glands—both fully developed and functional.

The 2S-level omegas have more concealed glands. The few discovered cases had what’s known as a “latent gland.” The first gland, called the dominant gland, is like that of ordinary people—located on the neck.

But this dominant gland has a very narrow channel and is quite fragile. It can accept pheromones but not sharp objects like needles. Unfortunately, ordinary medication often doesn’t work or is only briefly effective.

Thus, a normal marking can be made through the first gland, but in emergencies, inhibitors must be injected into the second gland—the latent one.

Sun Jia had read about this in a medical research paper once.

So Song Lu didn’t say much more and just coldly prescribed her a set dose of the inhibitor.

Sun Jia still had one last question, but after thinking it over, she didn’t ask. According to the special AO protection regulations, the files of top-level AOs cannot be disclosed without consent.

Still, considering the power and reach of the Song family, it wasn’t surprising that they knew her identity.

Sun Jia’s hand rested on the door.

“Be careful these next few days, especially when near Song Yanrong. She could trigger your heat at any time.”

Sun Jia paused, then turned back and sincerely said, “Thanks, sharp-tongued Dr. Song.”

Song Lu: “…”

…

Sun Jia pushed Song Yanrong into the hospital elevator.

Yanrong routinely asked a few questions about her condition. Sun Jia replied softly and gently, but hesitated a bit at the end.

“It’s just that I may still feel unwell over the next few days. Dr. Song told me to be careful.”

In the reflective elevator panel, one stood while the other sat.

Yanrong lifted her gaze and saw in the mirror Sun Jia wearing a cream-white, cinched-waist dress. Her cheeks were tinged pink like blush, even her ears slightly flushed.

She looked shy, like a kitten teasing with a feather toy.

“Did he say how to be careful?” Yanrong asked.

“Just do things that help soothe the body and mind…”

At the time, Song Yanrong didn’t think much of what that implied.

She merely nodded. “Then let’s go home and rest.”

She wasn’t in a rush to deal with anything else—this was more important.

The southern climate this time of year was unpredictable. Yesterday it was rainy, today the sun blazed like it meant to bake the city dry.

But the humidity was high, making the heat sticky rather than crisp—it left people sweating uncomfortably.

Yanrong sat in her wheelchair, her back and bottom unable to breathe. Just two minutes of sunlight outside the hospital left her in a thin layer of sweat. And getting into the car, even with help from her bodyguards, took effort—more sweat.

Once seated and cooled off, she finally felt some relief.

Being disabled was exhausting.

Then, a tissue appeared in her vision. As Yanrong took it, her fingertips brushed Sun Jia’s. She wiped her forehead and nose and smelled a faint rose scent on the tissue.

A ticklish feeling bloomed in her chest—not intense, just enough to make her turn her head.

Sun Jia happened to be looking at her, too. They held eye contact for a few seconds before Sun Jia slightly smiled and looked away first.

Yanrong had to admit—Sun Jia was more attractive than any woman she’d ever met.

Yanrong turned to the window. Sunlight filled her pupils. As she leaned back, shadows covered her face.

After a while, the frustration stirred up by the heat and sweat began to calm.

“In the elevator earlier, I think I saw something on my pants—some lint or dust. Could you help me check?” she asked casually.

Sun Jia paused and saw some white dust near the hem of Yanrong’s black pants.

“Sure.”

She bent down.

Yanrong’s eyes followed those pale, delicate hands approaching her.

Last night during Sun Jia’s heat, Yanrong had held her, and their bodies had touched—but she had felt nothing.

It was disappointing. Even thinking back to that scene in the Song family villa—no reaction.

So she had decided on one final experiment.

She wanted to test whether her legs would respond when Sun Jia touched them.

But she couldn’t just ask, “Hey, can you touch my legs?” That would be too weird—too perverse.

So she had smeared that dust there on purpose.

Slowly, she watched Sun Jia’s hand press on her shin bone, the other gently patting the dust away…

Yanrong closed her eyes and exhaled silently.

The experiment was a success. The warmth of Sun Jia’s hand, even through the black fabric, was tangible. She could feel the pants shift slightly with each pat.

A glimmer of hope flickered in her eyes.

She didn’t know why or how, but somehow her legs could feel Sun Jia’s touch—and only Sun Jia’s.

It was like magic, like the fact that she’d transmigrated here in the first place.

“Done.”

As Sun Jia straightened up, the numbness returned to Yanrong’s legs.

From heaven to hell in an instant—it left her dazed.

“Are you okay?” Sun Jia asked, surprised. For a second, Yanrong’s expression seemed regretful, but it vanished in the blink of an eye.

“Ah… nothing,” Yanrong quickly recovered.

Right now, she was very glad she’d decided to take Sun Jia with her. But from now on…

Sun Jia smiled with lowered lashes. Each blink of her long lashes seemed in slow motion.

“Didn’t you say we don’t need to be so polite?”

Yanrong returned the soft smile. “Of course. So—what do you plan to do next?”

“Me?” Sun Jia looked a bit lost, then said with some sadness, “I actually graduated from South Drama. But later on…”

This answer didn’t surprise Yanrong. In the book, Sun Jia’s life-long regret was not being able to pursue her dream of acting.

Though she didn’t finish the sentence, Yanrong knew what happened next—Sun Jia’s family company had issues, her mother got sick and died, and then came the mess with the Song family…

“So you want to act again?”

“If there’s still a chance.”

Sun Jia’s emotion felt both real and contrived.

Yanrong’s tone, though, was firm: “Why wouldn’t there be?”

“Given my current situation… it seems unlikely.”

“Not necessarily.”

Yanrong glanced away from Sun Jia’s pink, full lips and replied lightly, “We should go back and discuss it.”

Yes, they definitely needed to talk.

Yanrong tapped her fingers along her pant seam, thoughts drifting.

The car fell into a quiet stillness.

Beside her, Sun Jia also faced the window—but in her mind, she repeated the word Yanrong had now used twice today: “go back.”

She curled her lips slightly.

Was Yanrong really treating her like… a partner?

…

Half an hour later, the car arrived at Nanping Bay.

As usual, the bodyguards went in first, leaving Yanrong and Sun Jia to head upstairs.

Going out hadn’t been particularly comfortable for Yanrong, especially since she still wasn’t used to sitting in the wheelchair for long.

The chair was high-tech, automatically lifting the footrest with a single control.

Changing shoes wasn’t too hard.

Sun Jia had already slipped on house slippers and handed Yanrong hers. As Yanrong thanked her, Sun Jia straightened up, looking down at her slightly bent frame. The white t-shirt clung to Yanrong’s back, showing the smooth curve of her spine and waist.

So close—the intoxicating scent wrapped around her.

Sun Jia’s heartbeat fluttered. She felt her neck pulse quicken, and the butterfly tattoo near her lower back quiver.

Song Lu was right. Song Yanrong’s pheromones would affect her more and more. She might enter heat at any moment in front of her.

But she wasn’t nervous at all.

Besides the self-preserving choice to stay close, there was something else—being near Song Yanrong, though triggering, felt… comfortable.

Yanrong finished changing shoes and stood up, the hem of Sun Jia’s white dress brushing softly by her foot.

“Do you want to shower?” she asked.

“You go ahead. I noticed you were sweating earlier,” Sun Jia replied.

Yanrong didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her pajamas and headed to the bathroom.

The master bedroom didn’t have a private bathroom; all the space was given to the open living area. So the external bathroom was spacious.

Inside was a fully adjustable reclining shower chair—height, back support, and all.

So last night, despite her unfamiliarity with this disabled body, Yanrong had managed to undress and wash up.

But today, she was wearing pants.

Getting onto the chair was hard enough. Taking off pants—both legs—was even harder for someone new to having paralyzed legs.

Perhaps she took too long—just as she was halfway through undressing…

A knock sounded at the bathroom door.

And Sun Jia’s soft, concerned voice came through the glass—

“Do you need me to come in and help you?”