After Appearing on a Dating Show with a Top-Star Omega - Chapter 2

“Wh-what?” Yu Qingshi could hardly believe her ears.

“Oh,” Jiang Yuan began to explain, her voice steady and a bit stilted, as if she were reciting a textbook. “Subcutaneous insulin injections should be administered in the abdomen, upper arm, buttocks, or thigh. The abdomen has the fastest and most stable absorption rate, making it the top choice for lowering blood sugar.”

“…”

Yu Qingshi was speechless.

Whether it was from the sheer absurdity of the comment or physical exhaustion, the strength Yu Qingshi had been using to hold herself up suddenly vanished, and she nearly collapsed. Jiang Yuan reflexively reached out to pull her into a protective embrace. “Are you okay?”

Jiang Yuan was half a head taller and lean; she easily tucked Yu Qingshi against her chest. Yu Qingshi gripped Jiang Yuan’s collar, her knuckles white as she accidentally crumpled the neat white shirt. Her voice was strained, leaking through gritted teeth: “Listen to me… just do it.”

The woman’s breath was hot against Jiang Yuan’s neck, sending a prickle of goosebumps down her spine. Realizing she couldn’t waste more time, Jiang Yuan pressed the woman’s head into her shoulder to steady her, hurriedly brushed aside her black hair, and guided the needle into the swollen area with her right hand.

The long needle sank into the skin, and the cool liquid flowed slowly into her system. The magnolia pheromones were instantly soothed, their wild turbulence smoothing out. As the gland’s temperature dropped and the feverish heat faded, it was replaced by a creeping chill and a wave of sea-like numbness.

Yu Qingshi furrowed her brows in endurance, her teeth digging into her lower lip until the pink flesh turned white. Her vision blurred, and the mist in her eyes finally condensed into a single drop that slid down her cheek.

Jiang Yuan watched her intently, terrified that something might go wrong, completely unaware that her gaze was far too intense for an Omega in this state. Her stare was devoid of lust—it was filled only with earnest worry, a sincerity so raw it was almost embarrassing.

Yu Qingshi buried her face deeper into Jiang Yuan’s embrace, hiding herself away. Thinking the woman was simply cold, Jiang Yuan tightened her warm arms around her. Feeling a slight tremor in the body she held, she began to pat Yu Qingshi’s back with a slow, rhythmic, soothing motion.

The alley was silent save for the rustling leaves and the sound of their intertwined breathing. They remained like that, locked in an embrace, for a long moment.

After a while, Yu Qingshi poked Jiang Yuan’s neck with a finger. The touch was cool and ticklish; understanding the signal, Jiang Yuan let go.

Yu Qingshi stepped out of the hug and practicedly put her sunglasses and mask back on. “Thank you. What’s your name?”

“Jiang Yuan.”

Yu Qingshi’s gaze fell on the shirt she had just ruined. The once-crisp collar was now a wrinkled mess, dotted with damp spots from the tears that had fallen from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching out to smooth the fabric inch by inch.

Jiang Yuan looked down, her cheeks flushing. “It’s okay. As long as you’re alright.”

As Yu Qingshi recovered, Jiang Yuan finally realized that the syringe likely hadn’t contained insulin at all. Something stirred in Yu Qingshi’s heart. One was busy tidying up while the other stood frozen, afraid to move a muscle. For a moment, they stood in a comfortable silence.

Yu Qingshi then pulled a portable scent-blocking spray from her bag and misted both of them. The colorless droplets settled lightly on their clothes with a slight chill, dutifully erasing any lingering scents—effectively severing the sensory connection between them.

Putting the spray away, Yu Qingshi looked up. “I have things to do, so I’ll head out first. Thank you… Jiang Yuan.”

She let the name roll off her tongue softly, her voice so light it seemed to dissolve into the air. Jiang Yuan had heard her name called by many people in many tones, but this voice—clear, cold, yet carrying a trace of warmth like snow melting on a pine branch—made her heart skip a beat.

With that, Yu Qingshi turned and walked away, leaving behind only a slender, elegant silhouette. Jiang Yuan stood still in the dim light, her shadow stretching long behind her. She didn’t snap out of it for a long time. Those amber eyes had been like a shooting star, streaking through her heart and leaving a faint, indelible mark.

She… didn’t tell me her name, Jiang Yuan realized belatedly.

Since the spray had cleared all traces of pheromones, Jiang Yuan’s return to the restaurant went smoothly. Most of the food was already on the table.

Qi Meng’an was dropping meat into the pot and pointed to a small pile on Jiang Yuan’s plate. “Liang You went out looking for you just now but couldn’t find you. Yuan, we saved those for you.”

“Thanks,” Jiang Yuan smiled.

“Yuan, where did you go?” Liang You asked. “I ran all the way to the alley entrance and didn’t see you.”

Jiang Yuan hesitated. The alleys here were a labyrinth, branching off every few steps. She had only found the woman because she followed the noise. She let her eyes crinkle into a smile. “I just wandered around and got a bit turned around in the other lanes.”

“Oh, I see. No wonder I missed you.” Liang You nodded and handed her a drink. “Here, yours.”

Qi Meng’an’s sharp eyes caught a flash of red on Jiang Yuan’s shirt. She gasped and pointed. “Yuan, what’s that on your shoulder?”

“Huh?” Jiang Yuan looked down. The wrinkled collar had been smoothed, but the faint creases remained. And there, smudged into the fabric, was a red mark that they hadn’t noticed under the dim orange streetlights.

It was a lipstick stain.

Qi Meng’an arched an eyebrow, her expression full of innuendo. “Is that… a lipstick mark?”

Liang You covered her face. “Oh my god! For real?!”

“No, it’s not,” Jiang Yuan shook her head, her defense sounding weak even to her own ears.

Qi Meng’an couldn’t stop grinning. “Did you go out on a secret date?”

“No! It’s probably… wall dust or something,” Jiang Yuan stammered, her face turning so red from her neck to her ears that she looked like a boiled shrimp.

Qi Meng’an laughed, deciding to let her off the hook for now. “Oh, wall dust. I see.” She exchanged a look with Liang You; both saw the same teasing thought in each other’s eyes. They never expected that the first person in their dorm to find someone would be the usually silent Jiang Yuan.

“Mhm,” Jiang Yuan muttered, taking a gulp of her cold drink to cool down. The drink was icy—a rich, fragrant green grape flavor blended with a slightly bitter tea. But as the aftertaste hit her tongue, a subtle magnolia fragrance blossomed in her mouth.

Jiang Yuan’s face turned even redder. “What… what is this?”

Liang You glanced over. “Oh, I ordered delivery. It’s their new special—Magnolia Green Grape Dew. Why? You don’t like it?”

“No,” Jiang Yuan exhaled, feeling as though she were surrounded by magnolias all over again. “I actually really like it.”

Meanwhile…

At the alley entrance, Yu Qingshi’s van had already arrived via her GPS location. Her manager jumped out and rushed over, grabbing her arm to check her over. “My goodness, are you okay? I finally found you! If anything happened to you, how could I face the Yu family?”

“I’m fine. Just ran into some stalkers,” Yu Qingshi said, pulling her manager into the car.

Because of the school anniversary tomorrow, a dinner had been arranged, but the main entrance had been swarmed. They had hoped the manager leaving through the front would distract the crowd, but people were waiting at the side exit too. Luckily, Yu Qingshi had her assistants with her, or she wouldn’t have escaped.

“How are Xiao Li and the others? Any injuries?”

“No, it was late, so I had them take a car back to the hotel first,” the manager replied.

“That’s good,” Yu Qingshi instructed. “Give them a bonus at the end of the month.”

The manager stared at Yu Qingshi. Now that she had removed her disguise, her black hair fell naturally over her collarbones. Her profile was as clear as the moon, but there was a deep bite mark on her lip. The manager, an Omega herself, could smell that Yu Qingshi’s pheromones—which had been chaotic earlier—were now perfectly calm.

“Qingshi… your pheromones?”

Yu Qingshi paused before answering quietly, “I used a suppressant.”

“A suppressant?!” The manager’s voice nearly cracked. “Again? That’s the third one this month!”

“It was an emergency,” Yu Qingshi said curtly. The manager thought for a moment, still worried, and tapped on the partition to the driver. “Xiao Chen, change direction. We’re going to the hospital first.”

Yu Qingshi’s fingers twitched at the news. A flash of those sincere, burning black eyes crossed her mind. She didn’t stop the car; she had a few questions of her own she wanted to ask.

The black car arrived quickly at a private hospital invested in by the Yu family, where Yu Qingshi’s privacy was strictly guarded. She went through the routine gland examinations. Precision instruments pierced her glands, extracting blood and pheromones. She lay on her side on the cold, hard hospital bed, the bone-deep pain from her fragile glands stimulating every nerve.

Yu Qingshi’s lashes trembled as she curled her body inward. Even in pain, her mind wandered. She suddenly thought of the warm embrace from earlier and those gentle, rhythmic pats. She brushed the thought aside, finding it inexplicable.

Because she was a VIP, the results came back quickly. Dr. Lyu Zeqing flipped through the charts and sighed with relief. “Stable. Very stable.”

“Your data after this injection is even more stable than usual. Was anything different this time?”

Yu Qingshi: “…Nothing was different.”

Dr. Lyu nodded, putting it down to a variation in the drug’s effectiveness. “Regardless, you can’t use it again this month. That was your third dose.” This special medicine was developed specifically for Yu Qingshi’s Pheromone Disorder; it was fast-acting but lacked extensive clinical testing. The side effects were unknown and potentially addictive.

“I know,” Yu Qingshi replied. It was almost the end of the month; she just needed to be careful around external pheromones.

As Dr. Lyu filled out the forms, she asked the routine question: “Have you met an Alpha you like recently?”

The doctor’s pen instinctively started writing “None,” but she didn’t hear the usual, immediate “No.” She paused, the ink blooming into a dark spot on the paper. She looked up.

Yu Qingshi sat with her head down, her slender frame wrapped in a shawl. Under the light, her neck had a pearly sheen. Her dark lashes were lowered, and there was a rare look of distraction on her face.

Dr. Lyu was astonished. She had taken on this patient three years ago—a famous star from a prestigious family with a brilliant career, but suffering from a gland disease that could be fatal before age thirty if not managed. They both knew that finding an Alpha—even a B-rank—would help her condition. But Yu Qingshi had held out for three years.

“Do you have an Alpha you like?” Dr. Lyu asked softly.

Yu Qingshi snapped out of it and shook her head. “No.” Before the doctor could probe further, Yu Qingshi spoke up: “Does it have to be an Alpha?”

Dr. Lyu went silent. Pheromone Disorder meant one couldn’t regulate their own scents and was easily influenced by others. Successful clinical cases were almost exclusively AO pairings. A Beta… couldn’t even smell pheromones.

“Beta… they can’t smell pheromones,” Dr. Lyu replied, finishing the “None” on the form. She couldn’t give her patient false hope. Some thoughts were better snuffed out early.

As the appointment ended, Yu Qingshi stood to leave.

“Miss Yu, do you like a Beta?” Dr. Lyu asked suddenly, stepping outside her professional boundaries.

Yu Qingshi’s hand paused on the doorknob. “No.” She turned and vanished through the door, leaving only a few words behind in the faint scent of magnolia.

“It’s just… I met a Beta. She smelled… quite nice.”