After Being Coaxed And Seduced By A Yandere Omega Heartthrob - Chapter 1

It had been exactly ten years since Song Zhao arrived in Ilota, and the day was bright and sunny.

Golden, mist-like sunlight spilled past the window lattice, pooling thickly across the natural wood floor. In the mirror, Song Zhao could clearly see her tall, slender figure and a face that had grown more and more similar to the one she had possessed in “reality.”

Even the mole at the corner of her eye was identical down to the smallest detail.

She blinked slowly, and the person in the mirror made the same movement. Her dark brown eyes, distinctly East Asian in appearance, shimmered with amber light beneath the sunset glow. Her long lashes lowered slightly, quietly concealing the turmoil in her thoughts.

Time flowed like water.

It had actually been ten years since her death.

Ten years ago, Song Zhao had still been a dazzlingly successful piano prodigy. She had been only sixteen when she won one of the most prestigious awards in the piano world.

No matter who mentioned her name, the first things that came to mind were always words of praise. No adjective, however exaggerated, ever seemed excessive when applied to Song Zhao.

And yet, the year after winning that award, she was diagnosed with an irreversible rare disease. Her physical condition deteriorated day by day until, in the end, she died at nineteen during a damp, freezing winter.

Song Zhao had watched with her own eyes as her body slowly decayed and withered away.

In a sense, death had brought her more relief than anything else, even though far too many regrets still remained in her heart.

When a person died, their body became very, very light. The density of the soul seemed even lower than that of air, carrying her upward and upward until her entire vision was engulfed by a sacred white light.

At the end of the world, Song Zhao saw neither angels nor gods or Buddhas.

Instead, she found a tiny ball of light no bigger than her palm.

Song Zhao occasionally read novels in her spare time, so she accepted the other party’s identity as a “system” with remarkable ease.

The little ball told her that she had spent her life doing good deeds and accumulating virtue, and that she shouldn’t have ended up dying so miserably in a hospital.

Then it sent her here—

Into an explicit girls’ love novel called Becoming the Shared Omega of an Aristocratic Academy.

It had been the result of a random draw. Before that, Song Zhao had never even read this kind of novel.

Although it was merely a fictional story, this place could still be considered a complete little world.

In order to make Song Zhao’s existence more reasonable, the system placed her into the body of a child who, in the original course of events, would have died from a fever because the family couldn’t afford treatment.

The price was that the family was poor, both ears were deaf, and she had to start everything over from scratch.

When Song Zhao heard those conditions, she nearly laughed from sheer exasperation.

Still, she quickly accepted reality and naturally integrated herself into the original body’s family.

After all, she had once died in such an undignified way. Being able to live again in a healthy body that could run and jump was already the kind of blessing that made ancestral graves smoke with good fortune.

What was there left to complain about?

While she was lost in thought, someone suddenly pinched her side—not too hard, not too lightly—and by sheer coincidence, it landed directly on one of Song Zhao’s most ticklish spots.

Her thoughts snapped back.

The girl hurriedly laughed and begged for mercy. “Ow—ow, that hurts. Stop pinching me, Sis. I know I was wrong.”

“You little liar. If you really knew you were wrong, you wouldn’t have zoned out so many times during a single lesson!”

Her older sister, Song Lian, was circling around her, looking as though she wished she could produce a ruler and physically straighten Song Zhao’s posture, as if even the slightest deviation were some unforgivable offense.

“Sis—” Song Zhao dragged out the final syllable coquettishly, torn between laughter and helplessness at Song Lian’s extreme nervousness.

She covered her side with one hand, straightened her back, and dodged a possible second attack at the same time. “Sylvia isn’t that strict with her maids. As long as I do my actual job properly, isn’t that enough? Relax.”

“You should call her Miss.” Song Lian’s old-fashioned, rule-abiding values were always trampled mercilessly by just a few words from Song Zhao. “Miss Sylvia is indeed very gentle with servants, but that doesn’t mean we have any reason to disregard proper etiquette.”

After saying that, her pink lips moved rapidly as she launched into a long string of things Song Zhao needed to remember.

From standing posture to sitting posture, from walking pace to the angle at which her arms should swing—Song Lian broke everything down into the tiniest details and practically stuffed them into Song Zhao’s head.

Song Zhao had no choice but to calm herself and cooperate. With the sound from her hearing aids coming and going intermittently, she carefully watched her sister’s lips.

In her sister’s eyes, the young lady named “Sylvia” was probably the most important person in the world outside their own family.

Sylvia Winters was the universally adored heroine of this novel.

In terms of secondary gender, she was a top-tier Omega. In terms of family background, she could practically walk sideways through the aristocratic academy without consequence. Academically, she excelled in morality, intelligence, physical education, aesthetics, and practical skills alike.

As for popularity, aside from characters specifically written as villains, practically everyone who ever saw her became obsessed with her to varying degrees.

Delicate, exquisite, kind, innocent, lively, and cheerful—before meeting the main love interests, she lived like an innocent fairy untouched by worldly affairs. Whenever she encountered someone suffering, she would reach out to help without hesitation.

Song Lian, meanwhile, was the personal maid who had cared for her for many years. By the time Song Zhao transmigrated here, her sister had already been working in the Winters household.

During all the years Song Lian worked for the Winters family, Song Zhao would occasionally come over to help on weekends and during winter and summer vacations.

At first, she had simply been curious what kind of extraordinary person this heartthrob young lady could possibly be when her list of character traits was longer than a posthumous title.

After meeting her, Song Zhao discovered that Sylvia really was beautiful.

She was simply beautiful in a way that felt a little too “fake.”

Not fake in the sense of being hypocritical, but in the sense that her “perfection” felt unreal.

Sylvia was like a doll meticulously carved by the Creator. Every expression, every action, even every word she spoke seemed to be predetermined.

For the first time, Song Zhao truly felt that the world she was living in might really be nothing more than a novel.

The more detail an author devoted to a character, the more that “person” instead resembled lines upon lines of precisely operating code that would never throw an error, producing only results that had already been programmed in advance.

A fictional character.

The phrase fit perfectly.

Perhaps Song Zhao’s appearance had caused the plot to deviate.

In the original story, Song Lian should have remained by Sylvia’s side until Sylvia reached her happy ending with the main love interests.

Instead, Song Lian suddenly underwent secondary differentiation, changing from a low-grade Omega into an Alpha.

Naturally, someone like her could no longer remain in close personal service to Sylvia.

But habits formed over many years were difficult to change. Duke Winters replaced many servants for his beloved daughter, yet none satisfied her.

Left with no other choice, he eventually turned his attention to Song Lian’s biological younger sister—Song Zhao.

Song Zhao had absolutely no objection.

For no other reason than the fact that Duke Winters’s offer was simply far too generous.

And their seven-person household, which included elderly family members, younger children, a dog, and a cat, just so happened to desperately need the money.

On top of that, she was close in age to Sylvia and did reasonably well in school. Duke Winters even personally offered to send her to the best aristocratic academy in all of Ilota.

There was no way Song Zhao could refuse.

Forget helping Sylvia dress and do her hair, accompanying her to school, coaxing her to sleep at night, and standing nearby with a gratified smile whenever Sylvia brought a classmate home while saying things like, “You’re the first person Miss has ever brought home,” or, “Miss hasn’t smiled like this in such a long time.”

Even if she had to become part of the main leads’ bedroom play, she could accept it.

Wait.

If everything really followed the original plot, she actually did seem to have that particular job.

At home, in the car, at school—in all sorts of places.

After all, she was deaf. All she had to do was take off her hearing aids, and her mere presence could easily become an extra little seasoning of excitement.

…The protagonists in explicit novels really had endless tricks.

Whenever Song Zhao occasionally remembered those somewhat blurry yet still explosive passages from the book, she still couldn’t stop her face from heating up.

Her head lowered instinctively.

At that moment, she noticed several fleeting shadows cut across the patch of sunlight slanting over the floor.

Then came a distant sound, deep and solemn with a faint metallic resonance. By the time it reached her ears through the hearing aids, it sounded muffled and indistinct, as though covered in dust.

She knew what it was.

The bell marking six o’clock in the evening.

Immediately, a genuinely sweet smile bloomed on Song Zhao’s face.

“Sis, it’s getting late. I need to go find Syl—Miss now.”

She nearly bit her own tongue. She still wasn’t used to addressing Sylvia like that.

When her sister nodded, Song Zhao instantly became as lively as a bird released back into the forest. She grabbed up the cumbersome hem of her skirt and took off at a run without hesitation, terrified that if she delayed even one more second, she would get dragged back for another etiquette lesson.

Her sister’s reflexive cry floated from behind her. The woman momentarily forgot all concern for appearances, which instead made her seem extraordinarily vivid and alive.

“Xiao Zhao! Can’t you act a little more ladylike?!”

Huh?

What did you say?

Song Zhao ran even faster, her thick black hair streaming behind her like a banner.

She was deaf.

She couldn’t hear a thing.

.

Today was a joyous day for the Winters family.

As one of the long-established aristocratic families of the Connaught Federation, the Winters family had once been so powerful at its peak that it had even produced a president.

Almost every generation sent fresh blood into political circles.

And among this generation, the two most outstanding members were the top-tier Omega Sylvia and her stepsister, Yalos, who was likewise a high-ranking Alpha.

Today was Yalos’s twentieth birthday banquet.

For the family itself, as well as those hoping to attach themselves to its influence, it was an extremely important occasion.

Especially for the latter.

Countless people wanted to distinguish themselves at the banquet.

After all, if the eldest young lady happened to fall in love with them at first sight, wouldn’t they practically be one step away from soaring straight to the top?

This day was equally important to Song Zhao.

Because she knew that after tonight, the story of this novel would truly begin.

As she saw more and more elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen appearing in the distance, Song Zhao quietly slowed her pace and casually smoothed out the creases she had pinched into her skirt.

To display their wealth, the Winters family had provided all servants working the banquet with respectable formal outfits according to their positions.

Song Zhao’s only job today was to remain beside Sylvia and keep careful watch over her. She didn’t need to serve tea or water.

As a result, the dress she wore was completely impractical for work, though it did flare beautifully when she walked.

Well.

She really didn’t have much “work” to do today anyway.

After greeting the guards at the reception hall entrance, Song Zhao familiarly took the servants’ passage at the side and rode the elevator to the third floor.

Sylvia’s room was on the left side of the corridor.

In fact, that entire section belonged to her: a study, bedroom, dance studio, and two connected walk-in closets.

The opposite side belonged to Yalos.

However, Yalos had her own residence elsewhere and had rarely returned home to sleep over the past two years.

Song Zhao stepped out of the bronze-colored, ornately carved elevator.

The clean, firm tapping of her new shoes was immediately swallowed by the thick carpet, so there was no need to worry about her presence disturbing the master of the house.

And precisely because of this, Song Zhao’s position inside the manor made it perfectly natural and effortless for her to become part of the protagonists’ bedroom play.

She quietly stopped in front of Sylvia’s dressing-room door.

After raising a hand and knocking three times, she deliberately pitched her voice into the proper servant tone and recited her line.

“Miss, may I come in now?”

After a moment, she heard Sylvia’s voice, clearly somewhat unnatural as she tried with all her strength to brush past the matter.

“You can leave first. I’ll go over by myself in a little while.”

Song Zhao’s face remained expressionless, but her voice was full of feeling.

“Miss, your voice sounds a little strange. Are you certain you don’t need my help?”

This time, Sylvia’s hesitation lasted even longer.

Then a second woman’s voice came from inside, clear and gentle yet leaving no room for argument.

“She doesn’t.”

“Understood, Miss Yalos.”

Song Zhao respectfully withdrew.

But only enough to stand quietly beside the door.

Those were the rules.

A personal maid was not permitted to casually leave even half a step before seeing her mistress.

Song Zhao knew that rule.

Yalos knew it.

And Sylvia naturally knew it as well.

Only a thin door separated the three of them, yet it seemed to divide them into two completely different worlds.

What happened today was supposed to mark the beginning of this explicit novel.

After learning that the family intended to arrange a political marriage for her, Yalos, as Sylvia’s stepsister, could no longer suppress the love in her heart.

Fueled by alcohol, she stumbled into Sylvia’s room, confessed her feelings, and personally reduced the younger sister she had longed for day and night into a puddle of spring water.

That kind of behavior was obviously not good.

But once Song Zhao remembered that this was an explicit novel in which every plot point existed solely to lead into sex, she could just barely accept it.

Silently, she raised a hand, preparing to remove the hearing aid that was already on the verge of breaking so she wouldn’t actually hear anything she wasn’t supposed to.

Her slightly callused fingertip hovered lightly over the device.

Then she heard Sylvia say from inside the room,

“Please don’t do this.”

Yalos merely soothed her verbally, her words carrying a pointed implication.

“Don’t be afraid. She can’t hear us.”

If Song Zhao remembered correctly, the original novel had described this opening scene as Sylvia “half resisting, half yielding.”

According to the author, Sylvia also had feelings for Yalos—she simply hadn’t realized them yet. It was only after a passionate night together that she finally understood her own heart.

At first glance, it almost sounded like a happy ending in which both sides loved each other.

But when Song Zhao heard Sylvia cry out her name in terror, the fingertip suspended in midair still couldn’t help trembling.

“Song Zhao—!”

The second time, her tear-choked voice pierced Song Zhao’s ear like a blade, sharp and miserable.

There was absolutely no trace of the supposedly hidden “love” buried underneath.

What the hell is wrong with this plot?

Song Zhao cursed silently.

Then she turned and gently knocked on the door.

The commotion inside abruptly died away.

Before Yalos could sharply demand an explanation, Song Zhao spoke in an even tone.

“My apologies for disturbing you, Miss Yalos.”

“Madam just sent word. The second young lady of the Russell family is currently in the reception hall. They would all like to see you.”

After speaking, she stood nervously outside the door for a while.

She wasn’t sure whether someone with Yalos’s personality would believe her.

Second after second passed.

Yet no sound came from inside.

Just as Song Zhao began wondering whether her hearing aid had finally broken for real, the silver-gray door handle in front of her suddenly turned.

She instinctively stepped half a pace backward.

It was like the cover of a neatly bound book being opened to reveal the corner of its title page.

Song Zhao found herself looking directly into a pair of gloomy blue eyes.

Apparently, no matter how composed and courteous a person usually was, having their “good time” interrupted would still expose a resentful side.

But Song Zhao continued pretending she knew nothing, wearing the fake smile she was best at.

Without giving anything away, her gaze slipped from the sharp lines of the woman’s face and into the room, searching for that frail, pale figure.

Except it all happened far more easily than she expected.

Yalos, standing in the doorway, was suddenly shoved aside with force.

Before she could react, Sylvia had already darted behind Song Zhao like a frightened rabbit.

Their gazes clashed in the air.

Song Zhao noticed the watery sheen in Sylvia’s eyes and the faint rouge-like redness at their corners.

She had clearly been badly frightened.

At the same time, an almost imperceptible fragrance of roses drifted over.

Rich, sweet, and intoxicating.

It became strongest the moment Sylvia wrapped her arms around Song Zhao’s waist from behind.

Warm.

Soft.

Song Zhao’s formal dress had an open-back design, so she could even feel the Omega’s head resting against her body and the disordered breaths brushing over her skin.

Completely unprepared for this situation, Song Zhao’s entire body stiffened.

When she moved her gaze back to Yalos’s face, which had gone as dark as the bottom of a burnt pot, Song Zhao’s smile was already on the verge of freezing in place.

Only one thought surfaced in her mind.

I’m so dead.