Cocoon (Lily ABO) - Chapter 5

Ling Yu had nearly finished drying her hair, yet Han Jingman still hadn’t emerged from the bathroom.

Glancing around, Ling Yu stood up and filled a watering can. She slid open the balcony door and went to meticulously tend to the plants she had carefully nurtured for the past four years.

“Once I leave, it’ll be up to you all to keep her company,” Ling Yu murmured, trying her best to keep her tone lighthearted.

She crouched down and gently brushed away the white pollen that had accumulated on a large leaf. “Sorry I haven’t come to see you lately; don’t be mad. I’ve just been really busy, working hard and trying to save money. Besides Han Jingman, Grandma is my only family left. I have to protect them both.”

Ling Yu rested her small, fair chin on her crossed knuckles and reached out a finger to poke a crystal-clear succulent. “I really envy you guys.”

When Ling Yu stood up and returned to the living room, she happened to hear the recording on the telephone answering machine.

“Jing-jing, it’s Yiwei. I couldn’t get through to you all evening and I’m worried. Give me a call back when you hear this, okay?”

Staring at the now-silent machine, Ling Yu’s good mood shattered instantly. Chen Yiwei—Han Jingman’s boyfriend of four years. A young talent in his field, he was currently on the West Coast. A three-hour time difference did nothing to hinder the steady relationship of these two lovers.

Her chest, once full of soft affection, was now punctured by bitterness, the acrid taste making her nose sting. No matter how gentle or indulgent Han Jingman was with her, she only ever saw her as the girl-next-door “little sister” she grew up with. Their relationship would always be a mundane one of teacher and student. Someone else had already stepped up and taken their place by Han Jingman’s side long ago.

She couldn’t forget that day four years ago. Full of expectation, she had waited at the airport for Han Jingman to pick her up. She had so many things to say; she wanted to tell Han Jingman that her feelings weren’t those of a sister for an older sibling, but the devotion of an Alpha for her beloved Omega. She was going to confess, tell her why she chose her as her mentor, and tell her not to feel burdened because she would wait patiently—wait until graduation to propose. Patience was the one thing she didn’t lack; she had waited nearly twenty years, she didn’t mind another five.

But the thousands of words she had prepared turned into a bucket of ice water poured over her head the moment she saw Han Jingman and Chen Yiwei appear hand-in-hand. She had forgotten that her years of pining were nothing more than one-sided wishful thinking.

She remembered watching Han Jingman happily hook her arm through Chen Yiwei’s and say, “Xiao Yu, this is my boyfriend, Chen Yiwei. Yiwei, this is the sister I told you about, Ling Yu.”

The refined man before her had looked at Han Jingman dotingly before extending a hand to Ling Yu. “Hello, I’m Chen Yiwei, Jing-jing’s boyfriend. Please look after me.” Ling Yu had reached out a trembling hand to meet his.

“Hello, I’m Ling Yu… Professor Han’s new… student.”

Shaking her head to dispel the unpleasant memory, Chen Yiwei’s phone call served as a reminder. She pulled out her phone and checked the time; Han Jingman had been in the bathroom for nearly an hour. Even if she was soaking in the tub, she should have been out by now.

Ling Yu walked over and knocked on the bathroom door. “Professor Han, are you finished? It’s getting late; I should probably head back.”

There was no answer from inside, not even the sound of splashing water. Ling Yu frowned and knocked again, her worry growing. “Professor Han? Can you hear me?”

The silence from the bathroom was deafening. Ling Yu began to panic. She pounded on the door while calling Han Jingman’s name, gripping the handle with her other hand to push it open. With a “click,” the door opened effortlessly. Han Jingman had been so absent-minded she hadn’t even locked it; she had just pulled it shut.

Caught off guard by the sudden opening, Ling Yu barged straight in. she froze at the threshold, paralyzed. The overwhelming scent of red wine made her swallow nervously. She asked cautiously, “Professor Han?”

From behind the mist-shrouded bathtub came a soft moan, like the mewl of a kitten. “Mmh…”

Ling Yu realized instantly: Han Jingman’s heat had relapsed.

Ignoring everything else, Ling Yu grabbed a bath towel from the rack nearby, intending to wrap her up.

As she fumbled her way toward the tub, she caught one glimpse and nearly felt her knees buckle.

Through the swirling steam, Han Jingman leaned against the wall of the tub with her eyes half-closed, her flawless white body enveloped by the warm, clear water. Her damp cheeks bore an unnatural flush, and her long hair was completely loose, drifting in the water like flowing silk.

Below her smooth neck were collarbones as polished as jade, and further down, the full curve of her chest rose and fell with her breath beneath the water. In that vast expanse of “snowy plains,” two crimson peaks were visible—as lovely as two unripened cherries garnishing white cream.

Ling Yu’s breathing hitched. The sight of the exquisite body laid out before her made her brain explode with a “buzz,” and the “wicked thing” in her lower abdomen showed signs of stirring.

Not daring to let her gaze drop another inch, Ling Yu squeezed her eyes shut, stepped forward, and draped the towel directly over her to hide the source of her distraction.

Han Jingman had originally intended to take a quick bath to ease her fatigue after her shower, but once she stepped into the tub, the rising heat in her body became impossible to suppress. The desire hit her so suddenly that her body went limp, leaving her unable to move. At first, she could endure it, but as time passed, the assault of lust left her utterly defeated.

The emptiness of her body and the craving for pheromones forced a restless whimper from her lips. The helplessness of her situation drove her nearly to tears.

Her full breasts stood firm in the air, aching for a hand to soothe them. A continuous flow of nectar seeped from her hidden flower, making her hum with shame—yet every sound she made carried an unintentional, seductive lilt.

Han Jingman didn’t know how long she had been lying in the tub until a familiar, gentle embrace lifted her up. Like a drowning person, she locked her slender arms around the person’s neck and refused to let go.

Ling Yu was nearly choked by her grip. She had clearly overestimated her own strength. She had intended to carry Han Jingman bridal-style back to bed, but with her neck in a death grip, Ling Yu was left in agony, her legs braced awkwardly outside the tub.

Struggling to wrap Han Jingman tightly in the towel, Ling Yu tried to find a way to get her “little ancestor” out of the water. But the bound Han Jingman began to protest. Her body was currently hypersensitive; the coarse fabric of the towel, soaked with water and wrapped around her, rubbed against her sensitive skin and made it hard to breathe.

Han Jingman began to tear at the towel in a fit of rage—sharp and fierce. The pheromones her heart craved were right there—milk-scented, she only needed one sip—yet she couldn’t reach them. Han Jingman wanted to bite her.

“Be good, don’t fight me. Let’s get you out of the tub first, okay? Soaking for too long isn’t good for you.”

Hurriedly pinning Han Jingman’s unruly hands, Ling Yu knelt down to comfort her.

When she was soaking alone, Han Jingman hadn’t been this frantic. But now, with a giant, human-shaped aphrodisiac hovering around her, touching and pressing against her, Han Jingman snapped.

She lunged toward the source of the thickest pheromones. But having soaked in the water for too long, her vision was blurred and her body lacked strength. In Ling Yu’s eyes, Han Jingman simply gave a desperate, clumsy splash before sinking back into the water.

Frantically fishing her back out, Ling Yu was at her wit’s end.

“It hurts… don’t push me down, please…” Her plan failed, and Han Jingman, pinned against the wall of the tub, pleaded piteously with Ling Yu for mercy.

Meeting those moist, aggrieved eyes, Ling Yu’s heart softened, and she stopped pressing her down so forcefully. But the current situation had to be resolved. Her own pheromones had been coaxed into a wild frenzy by this woman, and the entire bathroom was now a thick, intoxicating blend of sweet milk and mellow red wine.