After the Cannon Fodder A Accidentally Marked the Paranoid Female Lead - Chapter 29

The agreement had been signed, and their relationship was finalized; Ming Sian could find no reason to refuse.

There was a clause in the agreement: barring special circumstances, the two must not live apart to prevent accidents.

Ming Sian had done some research; a High-Level Omega is different from an ordinary Omega—they have higher needs. Once marked, they become almost entirely obsessed; while the heart may or may not love, the pheromones certainly do.

An Alpha capable of marking a High-Level Omega must also be a High-Level Alpha, otherwise even a forced marking would be useless.

Once a High-Level Omega is marked, their needs increase; thus, one could see that after drinking a glass of wine, He Yining’s eyes had already grown hazy.

“It’s a bit hot.” Ming Sian felt a scorching sensation flood her body the moment the other’s gaze swept over her; even without drinking, she felt a bit dizzy.

He Yining finished her wine in one gulp. The red wine rampaged in her mouth, eventually leaving a trace of burning in her stomach that caused her entire body to heat up.

It likely wasn’t just the red wine.

She gazed at Ming Sian’s reddening ear tips, her heartbeat becoming increasingly obvious. She felt she could hear the “thump-thump” of her own heart. Her blurred gaze landed on Ming Sian’s lips—she wanted a taste…

Ming Sian nervously looked away. Even though she was half a head taller than He Yining, she felt a sense of oppression coming from the other woman.

“If I stay the night, I don’t have any clothes.”

What a line—it sounded as if she would stay as long as there were clothes.

Ming Sian lowered her head; acting like this made her seem like she was playing hard to get, saying she had no clothes while being on the verge of agreeing.

She took two steps back, pretending her legs were tired from standing, and took several large gulps of the water on the table. The current He Yining made her feel a sense of danger, yet attracted her gaze so much she was reluctant to look away.

He Yining sat on the nearby sofa, maintaining a safe distance between them. She leaned back into the cushions, propping her chin on her hand. “There are clothes.”

“Huh?” Ming Sian tilted her head.

He Yining smiled, stood up to grab her hand, and naturally pulled her toward the guest room.

Ming Sian looked at her hand being held, feeling the coolness of the other’s fingertips. Her nose was filled with the freshness of the snowy forest, and her breathing grew slightly heavy. Her eyes followed the figure half a meter ahead of her.

The woman was truly beautiful, especially at this distance and from this angle.

He Yining seemed entirely unaware of the change in the person behind her as she pulled her to the guest room’s wardrobe. Clearly, even if they lived together, they wouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed.

Realizing this, Ming Sian couldn’t tell if her heart felt relief or disappointment.

However, she soon settled her mindset; it was better not to live in the same room, as both sides would be more relaxed.

He Yining opened the wardrobe doors. Inside were about a dozen suits, a dozen shirts, as well as casual, athletic, and loungewear.

Looking at these clothes—with her monthly salary of twenty thousand, it would take her a year of work to afford just one set. Of course, currently, she was just an ordinary student intern, and twenty thousand was already good; once she graduated and got her PCLL, her salary could reach 60,000 to 100,000, and it would only grow over the years.

Her mentor’s fee for an hour of conversation was between 150,000 and 200,000; the ceiling in the legal profession is quite high.

She could afford these in her last life, and she still could in this one, but between her and He Yining, it was entirely unnecessary.

Feeling truly like a “toy boy,” she noted that He Yining, this rich woman, was quite generous. A wardrobe of clothes worth millions, not even counting ties, cufflinks, brooches, or watches.

He Yining pulled open a drawer, revealing rows of wristwatches. “Don’t worry, I have everything here.”

“This is too valuable.” It really was too valuable; the watches in this drawer alone could be worth tens of millions.

She might be able to afford the clothes in the short term, but adding this drawer of watches, Ming Sian fell silent.

To be honest, encountering such a generous “white-rich-beautiful” woman who she thought was just spending money, it was impossible not to be moved. She just couldn’t tell if she was moved by the money or by He Yining—it was likely the money.

Who wouldn’t be moved when a beautiful, excellent senior lawyer throws money at them?

Ming Sian avoided her gaze. “I can’t pay this back.”

He Yining almost didn’t hear those four words. “No need to pay it back.”

“He Yining.” Ming Sian suddenly called her name softly, wanting to say: I’m a bad person; I might take these things with a clear conscience.

Even if she didn’t now, what about later? If she developed the habit of taking and accepting without guilt, and her appetite grew until she started trying to squeeze more benefits out of He Yining, she would truly become a “bad woman” who scams people for money and sex.

She wanted to build the persona of a “Scum Alpha,” but she didn’t want to actually be one. Did this woman, He Yining, trust her too much? Did she really think Ming Sian wouldn’t be tempted by money and beauty to do something wicked?

One should know, the “Scum Woman” from the original story caused He Yining no small amount of trouble.

Ming Sian thought about it carefully—wait, that’s not right. He Yining wasn’t this good to the original character. A million a year and nothing else. When attending He family events, the original character had to prepare her own equipment and was thus mocked by the He family members.

The original character thought darkly: If He Yining were willing to prepare clothes and watches for me, I wouldn’t be mocked.

It wasn’t like now, where He Yining prepared everything perfectly and even compromised by changing her place of residence.

So the plot had changed; at least He Yining’s attitude toward her was completely different from her attitude toward the original character. But what would He Yining think once she “awakened” to the plot? Would she feel like she had been feeding a dog?

There was one solution: at that time, tell He Yining she wasn’t the original person. As for whether she’d believe it, that was another matter.

He Yining was being good to her right now, preparing everything so she only had to move in.

“What? You don’t like them? Then I’ll have someone replace them.” He Yining casually closed the drawer and leaned against the wardrobe door. Beneath her hazy gaze was a stillness, as if her heart had been thoroughly wounded.

Ming Sian quickly shook her head. “No, I like them very much. Thank you.”

He Yining suddenly tilted her chin up, the clarity returning to her eyes as her tone grew indifferent. “You are allowed to dislike them.”

“I don’t dislike them,” Ming Sian defended. She truly just felt they were too expensive and would take a long time to “repay.”

As if seeing through her thoughts, He Yining sneered. “It’s in black and white—what I prepared for you is simply what I prepared for you.”

Ming Sian, this person, had too strong a sense of boundaries. In the dreams, she refused like this—constantly refusing or saying things she didn’t mean, making people unhappy; she kept a very clear line between them.

He Yining gazed at her deeply. The stronger a person’s sense of boundaries, the more gentle they seem on the surface while being highly rational inside. It is very hard to enter the heart of such a person.

But the more this person retreated, the more she wanted the other to be obsessed with her.

“So, what I give you, you take. What I don’t give you, don’t you dare reach for.”

He Yining spoke those heartless words, yet Ming Sian’s expression actually improved significantly.

“Okay, thank you.” Ming Sian turned and walked out of the room, as if that brief, happy atmosphere between them had never happened.

He Yining had a decent alcohol tolerance; in a tipsy state, she could make Ming Sian feel ambiguity, but also endless indifference.

All interest vanished.

When He Yining walked out, she saw Ming Sian heading into the kitchen and followed her in confusion.

Ming Sian opened the freezer and took out pasta, beef, tomatoes, onions, garlic, tomato sauce, and other seasonings.

Sensing her enter, Ming Sian turned to ask, “Is pasta okay?”

There was no maid at home currently. They could have ordered delivery, but everything in the house seemed complete, so she thought she’d check the kitchen. There were many ingredients in the freezer, and a large fridge nearby was also well-stocked.

He Yining was stunned for a moment. “Okay.”

She thought Ming Sian was leaving, but finding that Ming Sian only wanted to cook a meal, her mood inexplicably brightened.

Ming Sian nodded. While boiling the noodles, she quickly chopped vegetables, used the blender to mince the beef, and rapidly sautéed the sauce.

The noodles still needed a while. She grabbed some button mushrooms, heavy cream, milk, butter, and flour. The onions were leftovers from just now. In ten minutes, she whipped up a cream of mushroom soup.

The pasta and soup were finished in thirty minutes total; her speed was quite fast.

Ming Sian saw He Yining still leaning against the kitchen doorway and waved her over. “Come help.”

He Yining blinked blankly, preparing to carry the soup.

“I’ll take the soup; you just take the pasta.” The soup was too hot; Ming Sian didn’t want the Eldest Miss to get burned.

In truth, she was curious what was so interesting about watching her cook. He Yining had been standing outside the kitchen watching the whole time, making her hands shake slightly while chopping for fear of being seen as unskilled in cooking Western food.

After all, she usually cooked Chinese food. She wasn’t a great cook, but after living alone for a few years, there were times she hated eating out, so she’d occasionally cook a bit and eventually learned a few dishes.

She knew how to boil pasta, but this was only her second time making cream of mushroom soup; she was a bit worried about failing.

Together, they brought the pasta and soup to the dining table. Ming Sian went back to the kitchen for utensils and divided the pasta and soup into two portions, placing them in front of each person. The soup could actually have been shared, but she was worried the Eldest Miss would find her distasteful.

After He Yining sat down, her eyes lazily fixed on Ming Sian for a while. “You can cook?”

“A little bit,” she said, feigning composure. “Let’s eat.”

He Yining tilted her chin, picked up her fork, and frowned at the pasta. Ming Sian paused for half a second, then immediately took the plate and tossed the pasta to mix it.

Truly an Eldest Miss. Ming Sian resignedly mixed the pasta.

“There.” She placed the plate back in front of He Yining.

He Yining wasn’t polite. she lifted a few strands with her fork, cautiously putting them in her mouth, then raised an eyebrow and scooped up a normal amount.

The corners of Ming Sian’s mouth curled up. Perhaps because she had been a bit insecure after being showered with money, seeing the Eldest Miss satisfied with her cooking finally made her feel that she wasn’t completely useless.

Whether they both followed the rule of “no talking while eating” or simply didn’t know what to say, the meal was very quiet.

After eating, Ming Sian cleared the mess. Actually, there wasn’t much to clear; the dishwasher was automatic. She just had to put the things in.

When she came out, He Yining was listening to music, walking slowly around the living room as if for digestion.

Walking like an old lady on a stroll—it was actually quite cute.

Finding this novel side of the Eldest Miss, Ming Sian could no longer control the corners of her mouth and began to stroll just like He Yining.

Likely noticing Ming Sian was imitating her, the Eldest Miss gave her a sharp look—though it wasn’t sharp at all, more like a kitten baring its teeth, incredibly cute.

One song ended, and what came next was absurd. She didn’t expect the Eldest Miss’s hobby to be so unique—it was some legal case explanations entirely in English.

Was the Eldest Miss’s digestion time even this competitive? All-English cases—if one didn’t have an overseas background, given this speaking speed and professional terminology, one might not necessarily understand.

Ming Sian had specialized in this in her last life and even took exams to verify her strength. As for the case content, she couldn’t say she understood everything, but at least 90% was clear.

Sure enough, excellent people are excellent for a reason—utilizing every fragment of time to study. Meanwhile, after she had returned to the small town, she rarely competed like this, basically using her spare time for play.

After the stroll ended, He Yining took the remote and walked to the super-large balcony. She closed the balcony—yes, closed it—so the cold wind couldn’t enter, yet they could still see the night scenery outside from the balcony, with a view of the sea.

The balcony lights were very bright. He Yining curled up in a beanbag chair on the balcony, staring blankly outside.

At 8:00 PM, it was already very dark outside.

Perhaps He Yining just wanted to daze out, so Ming Sian didn’t disturb her. She went back to the living room sofa and sat down, but her gaze remained fixed on He Yining.

They weren’t far apart, yet they seemed very distant—two parallel lines in the same space.

After sitting for a while, Ming Sian originally wanted to exercise, but thought better of it. Exercising on the first day of living here might make it look like she was “spreading her peacock feathers” to seduce He Yining.

So she stood up, went to the guest room, grabbed a bathrobe, and entered the bathroom.

As the warm water poured over her head, Ming Sian grew much more alert. She had stayed the night without much protest; in truth, that’s how it should be. Why be coy about something agreed upon in black and white?

The signatures were done, the agreement was in effect—just do it.

While washing, Ming Sian saw a figure outside the bathroom. It was a design issue; the person outside should also be able to see her.

What was He Yining suddenly doing in the guest room? She reached for the bathrobe to cover herself, only to see He Yining walk out again.

She didn’t understand what He Yining meant.

Ming Sian quickly finished washing and walked out. Hearing the sound, He Yining looked up and saw her with washed hair, wrapped tightly in a large bathrobe. A slight smile flickered in her eyes.

Earlier, she had been dazing on the balcony and turned around to find Ming Sian gone, thinking the person had left.

He Yining had walked quickly into the guest room and found the light on and the sound of water in the bathroom; her rising anger vanished instantly.

Her moods swung up and down entirely under Ming Sian’s influence. He Yining was a bit annoyed, but upon seeing the silhouette through the bathroom glass, her face first flushed red, and she hurriedly left the spot.

After leaving, He Yining realized belatedly that she was too nervous about Ming Sian. What did it matter if the other stayed or left?

Just now she had thought that if Ming Sian proposed leaving, she certainly wouldn’t stop her. Who knew this person wouldn’t leave and had even cooked a nice meal? Calling it “nice,” the taste was quite average, but the feeling was different.

She was also crazy, actually letting a bowl of noodles dazzle her eyes into becoming nervous about Ming Sian’s presence.

So the moment Ming Sian came out, He Yining immediately stood up and headed for the bedroom, not wanting anyone to see her abnormality.

In fact, Ming Sian noticed nothing. The bathroom being designed like that made her a bit embarrassed and she didn’t know how to bring it up. Luckily He Yining went back to the bedroom, seemingly to wash up; the embarrassment in her heart faded a lot.

After washing, she still had to dry her hair, do skincare, body lotion, and hydration, but she had rushed out wanting to know why He Yining had appeared outside her bathroom.

The result was that she came out but couldn’t ask. When He Yining returned to the bedroom, Ming Sian obediently went back to the bathroom.

One had to say He Yining had prepared many things; not a single detail was missed. It was just that she didn’t intend to unseal them; she just dried her hair and slowly tidied up.

She had to use the shampoo and body wash, but these skincare products of unknown brands looked very expensive at a glance, likely far beyond the famous big brands on the market; she’d better not open them.

Her skincare was usually quite simple—hydration at most. It would be a waste to open so many things.

Having tidied herself up and changed into pajamas, Ming Sian hesitated whether to go out again.

She finally chose to hide in the room and even took out her laptop to pretend she was working.

The laptop wasn’t the one He Yining had given her. After the meeting that day, she had tried to return it, but He Yining only said one thing: “I don’t have the habit of recycling.”

So, Ming Sian could only make a note in her little notebook: Debt + 100k.

One could only say she was a woman with a high sense of morality; she felt awkward taking the Eldest Miss’s things for free, so she simply chose to keep accounts. This was also why she had accepted the wardrobe of clothes and accessories so easily today—when you have too much debt, you stop worrying; just keep account for now.

But she still had to save money where she could. The clothes and accessories He Yining prepared were clearly according to her style, and the skincare products should be universal, but she didn’t need to use such expensive things; using what was within her means was enough.

Ming Sian opened a laptop document and wrote a few words: On such-and-such date, for such-and-such reason, I owe He Yining an estimated amount of X; specific prices need to be organized slowly.

Having done this, she switched to another document. Instead of a serial novel, she was writing “Legal Practice Sharing.” Mainly, this brought in money fast—600 per article, 3,000 words. When she was fast, she could write one in an hour. Once they established a good cooperation, she’d send the serial novel over.

In fact, if it were an article like “Frontier Legal Research,” as long as it passed, the fee was at least 500 per thousand words, and some articles even paid tens of thousands.

She’d test the waters with some short legal pieces first. Although it paid less than the part-time bar job, it was faster and gave her freedom.

The internal journal said that as long as she could provide three articles of the same quality this month, they’d raise it to 800 per article next time. Such ordinary articles topped out at two or three thousand per piece; the high prices were for deep, professional articles, but those required a name—like He Yining’s, who was already a great barrister.

Unless her ordinary drafts were of high quality and she became slightly famous in the editorial department; in that case, they could ignore the fact that she was just a student.

She had seen a “boutique” level article a while ago involving frontier legal issues, written by a senior barrister, with a fee as high as ten thousand yuan. However, usually at the senior barrister level, writing an occasional article is mostly to enhance one’s reputation in the industry, not to earn money; some even take a share of the proceeds.

For the current Ming Sian, reaching two or three thousand per article was already very good.

A case she had handled appeared in her mind, and she decided to write a deep, professional article around it.

The long-form novel she had decided to write earlier already had enough words for submission, but novel-types are harder to pass in internal journals. If they already had a serial novel running, they wouldn’t necessarily take another. After all, legal workplace novels aren’t popular outside and are rarely taken internally—otherwise, she wouldn’t have written the short pieces first. Luckily, even fewer people in this profession write lawyer novels.

She had read novels; workplace novels are different from conventional novels, belonging to the type that basically won’t go viral on mainstream platforms. So her first thought was to submit to internal journals. Compared to outside platforms, the benefit was that it was easier to sell copyrights, and the copyrights belonged only to the creator.

Professional lawyers would also submit to internal journals if they wrote, mostly part-time students or newly practicing lawyers. For them, writing a case into a short piece isn’t hard, but writing it into a novel is time-consuming and labor-intensive for most, and not as simple as writing a case summary—they are the professionals in the latter.

Thus, competition for long-form wouldn’t be as high as for short pieces. Overall, both have their pros and cons.

Ming Sian was quite a planner. Even though she had decided to submit to internal journals, she still cautiously tested the waters. The short pieces were her test; if the partner had an issue, she could cut her losses in time, but once invested in a long-form, the loss would be too great.

Just like her and He Yining. She didn’t think she was investing too much, but rather that He Yining was investing too much. What if the loss was both person and money? Was He Yining not afraid?

Ming Sian took a deep breath and looked toward the door. Was she really going to hide in the room and not go out?

A moment later, she resignedly stood up and walked out.

He Yining had prepared many things; though she hadn’t said “welcome,” she had thought of every detail.

Hiding like this wasn’t the way; some things had to be faced sooner or later. Furthermore, she didn’t deny that she had developed feelings for He Yining.

It could be the other’s beauty, or physiological attraction, or something else; she couldn’t ignore the throbbing of her heart.

She walked out of the room but didn’t see He Yining. Was she in her room?

Ming Sian’s gaze couldn’t help but search toward He Yining’s bedroom, wondering if she also didn’t want to come out.

Suddenly, the room door opened. Their eyes met, and Ming Sian’s whole body jolted. She felt as if she’d been caught red-handed. She awkwardly turned her head to the side, her ears turning bright red, yet she could hear He Yining walking toward her step by step.

As their distance closed, the scent of the snowy pine forest drifted to her nose—familiar and enchanting. The scent had only lingered for a moment when the pheromones in her body grew restless. The atmosphere was like a spark falling into dry wood, igniting the space.