The Poor Little Thing Was Brought Home by An Iceberg Omega - Chapter 2

There was a budget hotel near Jiangyue City’s Third Primary School on Fuxue Road. It had an elevator and air-conditioning, and An Qin booked a king room for two nights through a group-buying deal.

An Qin bought balloon decorations online, mainly in pink and purple, along with “Happy Birthday” balloon banners in both Chinese and English.

Her younger sister was in charge of inflating them, while An Qin handled sticking them up high, mostly on the windows. That way, when they took them down, there would be no adhesive residue, no peeled paint, and no trouble caused for the hotel.

“Sister, is Sister Lulu really not coming?” Xiaoman asked, looking up.

An Qin paused for a moment, then deliberately put on a helpless expression. “Your Sister Lulu really can’t get away.”

She lightly hopped down from the chair and patted the top of Xiaoman’s head. Bending down, her almond-shaped eyes bright, she said, “But your Sister Lulu prepared a birthday present for you. She asked Sister to go pick it up tomorrow.”

Before Xiaoman even had time to feel disappointed, her face had already lit up with a smile. She lifted her slender wrist. “Then I’ll have two birthday presents!”

Around her wrist was the pink crystal bracelet Sister had just given her, sparkling brightly and making her wrist look especially pretty.

An Qin turned away. By the time she turned back, she was smiling again. “That’s right.”

The takeout arrived one order after another—fried chicken and grilled skewers, all Xiaoman’s favorites.

They did not order milk tea. Xiaoman had had enough of it too, so they ordered fruit juice instead.

“Sister, hurry and blow out the candles. I want to eat all the good stuff!”

“You little glutton.”

An Qin stuck the candles into the cake and lit them, then switched off the lights. She wrapped her arms around Xiaoman from behind, rested her chin on the top of Xiaoman’s head, and softly sang “Happy Birthday.”

Two seconds later, Xiaoman could not help joining in.

There was no helping it. Her sister was good at everything except staying on key! She could even sing “Happy Birthday” out of tune!

When they finished, An Qin gently bumped Xiaoman’s head with her chin. “Making fun of me again.”

Xiaoman laughed so hard she swayed from side to side.

Once they had finished fooling around, An Qin took Xiaoman’s hand, and the sisters pressed their palms together.

“Want Sister to make a wish with you?”

“Okay.”

Xiaoman closed her eyes.

The candlelight flickered across Xiaoman’s face, illuminating a delicate little face with a pointed chin. Her face shape resembled her sister’s, only younger and more childish. Her long eyelashes cast trembling shadows beneath her eyes.

Silently, she made her wish.

She did not dare hope that one day she would be able to stand again, nor did she dare hope that Sister would ever get their house back. She asked for only one thing.

She begged heaven to take pity on Sister and let her left ear hear sound again, so Sister would never have to feel inferior because of it.

Only Xiaoman knew how long Sister had practiced so no one would notice, how long she had trained herself to make sure the volume of her voice sounded normal.

An Qin did not close her eyes. Resting against Xiaoman’s shoulder, she watched Xiaoman’s lightly trembling lashes, the pink crystal bracelet on Xiaoman’s wrist that she had specially taken up the mountain to be blessed, and Xiaoman’s legs resting in the wheelchair.

Tears shimmered in An Qin’s eyes. She closed them and forced the tears back.

“I’m done, Sister. Blow out the candles with me?” Xiaoman asked.

“Okay.” An Qin blinked quickly, forcing back the wetness in her eyes, then smiled and bent down beside Xiaoman, moving closer to the candlelight.

The candlelight vanished from both sisters’ faces, as though it had carried away the light from their lives with it. The room sank into darkness.

An Qin switched on the light, and brightness filled the room once again.

By the time they finished dinner, it was already past nine. An Qin helped Xiaoman bathe, fed her medicine, and guided her through her pre-bed rehabilitation exercises.

The reason An Qin had chosen to major in rehabilitation therapy in the first place was because of Xiaoman.

An Qin’s movements were gentle and soothing enough to lull someone to sleep. Xiaoman’s eyelids gradually grew heavy.

An Qin tucked the blanket around Xiaoman, bent down, and said softly, “Go to sleep first. Sister is going back to school to get some things. I’ll be back soon. If you wake up and don’t see me, don’t be scared. Call Sister if anything happens.”

Xiaoman obediently nodded.

“We’ll stay here for two nights. On Monday morning, Sister will take you to school. When classes end, I’ll pick you up and take you to our new home. Sister will try to rent an apartment with an elevator near your school.” An Qin gently stroked Xiaoman’s hair, her voice soft and tender. “Don’t worry about money. Sister has saved some. We’ll live very well.”

Xiaoman’s eyes grew moist. “Sister, you work too hard.”

“What’s so hard about it?” An Qin reached out and covered her younger sister’s deer-like eyes with her soft palm. “Sister was already trying to gain experience for when I start working full-time anyway. Don’t worry. Go to sleep.”

A long time later, Xiaoman heard the sound of the door closing as her sister left.

Xiaoman opened her eyes.

She tried to lift her left leg, but she still could not move it. She could not lift her right ankle either. Tears gradually slid down her face and soaked into the pillow.

She knew Sister only had to work so hard because of her.

She was a burden to Sister.

A light drizzle had begun outside. The hotel had no umbrellas—or perhaps they did, but simply would not lend one to An Qin. An Qin ran through the rain to the car and found a folding umbrella inside.

An Qin stood beneath the umbrella by the roadside. Her figure was slender and frail. The high ponytail she had worn earlier had come loose after everything she had done that evening. Her white T-shirt was damp from running out of the hotel just now, and so were her white shoes.

An Qin felt as though she could hardly breathe. The sound of rain hitting the umbrella was dull and muffled.

Lin Lulu’s breakup message had been very specific, specific enough that An Qin did not need to ask “why” again. Yet inside her heart, she still kept asking herself why.

Cars sped past one after another, their headlights sweeping across her face and making her delicate features look paler and paler.

Among them, one black sedan slowed briefly as it passed her, slowing so much that it seemed as though it might stop.

The window was cracked open slightly. Wind slipped inside, gently blowing loose the strands of hair by the forehead of the person sitting in the back seat.

An Qin’s reflection slowly slid across the car window.

Her swaying umbrella, pale cheeks, dazed eyes, rain-soaked clothes, and slender figure all mingled with the rain and fell into the dark eyes of the person in the back seat.

It was as though something had been dropped into an icy abyssal pool, disturbing the stillness of those eyes before sinking deeper and deeper.

The person moved her lips and quietly gave the driver an instruction.

The driver froze slightly.

If she left, what about President Shang?

“President Shang, your heat…”

“It’s fine. Do as I say.”

“Yes.”

The narrow gap in the window closed, and the car accelerated away.

As though it had merely been one ordinary passing car among the traffic on a rainy night.

No one noticed.

·

At exactly ten o’clock, a black SUV pulled up by the roadside.

A short-haired woman stepped out from the driver’s side holding an umbrella. She wore a crisp, elegant white shirt and carried herself with the relaxed confidence of someone wealthy. She walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and shielded the person getting out.

The person who emerged was Lin Lulu.

Her long hair fell over her shoulders, gentle and beautiful. This was the woman who had once whispered “Qinqin, we’ll be together forever” beside An Qin’s right ear countless times. Now, she was nestled in the short-haired woman’s arms.

An Qin’s gaze gradually came into focus and settled on the scene before her. She could no longer feel the rain. All she could hear was the hollow, heavy pounding of her heart.

“Didn’t I already make everything clear to you on WeChat? Why did you ask me to come here?”

Lin Lulu’s voice reached her. An Qin came back to herself and looked at her. To her surprise, Lin Lulu’s expression looked almost exactly like her aunt’s—impatient, disgusted with her.

An Qin stood with her back straight. She did not look at the short-haired woman again, only calmly at Lin Lulu as she held out the watch she had been clutching in her palm. “This is the present you gave me last year. I’m returning it to you.”

A gust of wind swept past, carrying away the warmth and dampness from An Qin’s hand.

Lin Lulu did not take it. Her eyes lingered briefly on the watch before the corner of her mouth twitched. She said coldly, “It wasn’t anything expensive. Barely over a hundred yuan. Keep it as a souvenir, or throw it away.”

An Qin lowered her eyes and fell silent.

A moment later, she turned, walked to the nearby trash can, and threw it in.

There was only a faint sound, yet something inside An Qin loosened.

From this moment on, they were broken up.

She accepted it.

But perhaps An Qin’s complete lack of reluctance stung Lin Lulu, because Lin Lulu suddenly became shrill, saying bitterly, “An Qin, you don’t need to hate me. It was you. It’s always been you. You never put me in your heart. Your sister is always more important than me. You’re the one who disappointed me again and again.”

Holding her umbrella, An Qin turned to face Lin Lulu and stared into the rain. “I don’t hate you.”

Lin Lulu abruptly fell silent.

The rain seemed to ease slightly, making An Qin’s voice clearer. “I’m sorry, Lulu. It was all my fault. I didn’t treat you well enough.”

Lin Lulu was not wrong.

Her younger sister had always been the most important person in An Qin’s heart.

But when Lin Lulu had first pursued her, An Qin had told her clearly that even if they dated, her sister would always come first. If anyone ever asked that clichéd question about who she would save from drowning, she would absolutely save her sister first.

Lin Lulu herself had said she understood, that she felt sorry for her, and that she wanted to help An Qin take care of her sister.

Only then had An Qin agreed to date her.

So why had everything changed now?

“As long as you’re happy from now on,” she said softly.

An expression of incredulous pain flashed through Lin Lulu’s eyes.

She had truly been wrong. Completely wrong. Back then, she should never have fallen for An Qin’s looks at first sight. She should never have become so hopelessly infatuated with An Qin’s face. She should never have wasted so much time staying by An Qin’s side!

An Qin had no heart.

Anyone who fell in love with An Qin would come to no good end!

“All right, don’t be angry. This person doesn’t have a heart.” The short-haired woman patted Lin Lulu’s shoulder soothingly. “Baby, let’s go?”

Lin Lulu closed her eyes and weakly leaned into her new girlfriend’s embrace, then gave a small nod and turned away.

“Wait,” An Qin called.

For some inexplicable reason, Lin Lulu turned around with a flicker of expectation.

Standing beside the trash can, An Qin asked calmly, “How long have you two been together?”

Lin Lulu fell silent.

The short-haired woman tightened her arm around Lin Lulu and suddenly let out a provocative little laugh. Raising an eyebrow, she said, “A month.”

She looked at An Qin smugly, the corners of her lips turned upward, as though she took great pleasure in having stolen An Qin’s girlfriend.

So what if An Qin was beautiful?

She was only the lowest C-rank Alpha. No matter what, she could never compare to an A-rank Alpha like her.

An Qin slowly lowered her eyes.

“That’s all. Be careful on your way home.”

Her voice was very soft, swallowed by the sudden intensification of the rain. Even An Qin herself could barely hear it.

The SUV drove away.

An Qin stood alone where she was, staring blankly at the rain as it grew heavier and heavier.

The rain slanted beneath the umbrella, soaking An Qin’s face.

An Qin stood there helpless and alone for a long time before unconsciously sinking into a crouch. She wrapped her arms around her knees and curled herself into as small a shape as possible, as though she wanted to disappear from this world entirely.

Tears burst from her eyes.

The moment An Qin realized she was crying, she immediately bit down hard on her lower lip, refusing to let herself cry any more, refusing to make a sound.

Her sister still needed her.

But why?

Maybe she really was nothing but garbage, something anyone could throw away, something anyone could deceive.

Dad.

Mom.

I miss you so much.

I’m so tired.

An Qin closed her eyes, swaying on the verge of collapse.

Suddenly, several restless pheromone scents flooded into her senses.

They belonged to different Alphas—agitated, excited, out of control. Some were near, some far, all moving, surging toward the same direction like a tidal wave.

An Qin’s eyes flew open. She stood and looked toward the source, but streams of traffic sped horizontally across the road, blocking her view.

An Qin squeezed her eyes shut, shutting off her sight and hearing and amplifying her sense of smell as she carefully scented the air.

The sound of rain vanished.

The roar of traffic disappeared.

Within the darkness—

She smelled it.

Amid all those Alpha pheromones was the scent of an Omega.

Strawberries and alcohol.

The fragrance was overwhelmingly strong, like fresh strawberries crushed open, like high-proof liquor splashed through the air. Sweet, enticing, dangerous—the scorching pheromones of an Omega in heat.

An Qin immediately ran toward the source.

Wind and rain battered her face, and the umbrella in her hand was blown inside out.

At last, she drew close enough to see a scene that resembled a disturbed hornet’s nest. She had no idea where so many people had come from—men and women alike—surrounding a black sedan parked by the roadside, pounding on its doors and windows.

Their Alpha pheromones were pouring out uncontrollably, like starving wolves desperate to devour the Omega inside.

An Qin was affected as well.

The blood throughout her body boiled. Her marking fangs throbbed, aching to emerge. She too wanted a share, wanted to drag the Omega inside to her side, possess her, mark her.

The scent was intoxicating liquor mixed with an irresistibly seductive fruit fragrance—tempting, decadent, lush. The Omega inside seemed to be enticing them, making them want to devour her, chew her apart, and swallow her into their stomachs.

But An Qin’s rationality was stronger.

Or perhaps her madness was.

The faces around her seemed to transform into her uncle, her aunt, Lin Lulu.

She charged forward and yanked away the burly man who was pounding on the driver’s door. The man was thrown to the ground with a heavy thud.

An Qin looked inside the car.

There was no one in the driver’s seat. The back seat was dim, but a blurry figure seemed to be sitting there.

An Qin forcefully shoved another Alpha away from the rear door. That Alpha’s gaze had already gone unfocused, and after being pushed to the ground, they twisted their face in frantic agitation like a zombie.

An Qin spun around and pressed her back against the car door.

“Get the hell away!”

At that instant, she was frighteningly resolute.

It was as though she were not only protecting the vulnerable person in the car, but protecting her sister, protecting herself.

She was drenched from head to toe, her eyes bloodshot.

In the next instant, overwhelming S-rank Alpha pheromones erupted from her body.

Cold.

Biting.

Intimidating.

Pheromones powerful enough to devour everything, sweeping across every Alpha around her like thousands upon thousands of blades of ice.

No matter their rank, every Alpha was instantly suppressed. Their legs went weak, and they staggered and collapsed to the ground, kneeling in a scattered mass.

Among them was even the short-haired woman who had looked down on An Qin beside Lin Lulu only moments ago.

The rain continued to fall.

An Qin panted heavily, both arms spread wide as she guarded the car door with everything she had.

She did not know that inside the car at that very moment, a breathtakingly beautiful Omega woman was tilting her head, staring unblinkingly at An Qin’s back.

The Omega’s long hair was disheveled, sweat dripping from the strands. Her face was deeply flushed, her lips burning hot, her breathing ceaseless and ragged.

She was being tormented by the pheromones she had intentionally released herself. Her clothes were soaked through with sweat, the silk blouse clinging tightly to her body and becoming almost transparent where it was drenched, her full curves rising and falling violently beneath it.

Her eyes were both out of control and startlingly lucid as they locked onto the figure outside protecting her.

Her clothes were completely soaked by the rain. Her silhouette was slender, yet she stood upright and unwavering, shielding Shang Tinglan from those inferior Alphas who could not resist the temptation.

That slender young woman continued releasing powerful pheromones without pause, so powerful that the surrounding Alphas were still kneeling with weakened legs.

And they made Shang Tinglan’s own legs weak.

Made her tremble.

They smelled wonderful.

They made her feel safe.

Her pheromones, unexpectedly, smelled like disinfectant, like disinfectant warmed beneath sunlight, easing the scorching restlessness inside Shang Tinglan that felt as though it might burn her alive.

Soon, the disinfectant scent seemed to fade, transforming into the fragrance of peach-scented soap.

In an instant, the heat came roaring back, stronger and more violent than before.

She wanted to get close to the girl outside the car.

Wanted to be marked.

Wanted to be possessed.

Slowly, an unreadable emotion flashed through her reddened eyes.

Her chest rose and fell, her breaths faint and uneven.

At last, she called out very softly, her hoarse, trembling voice reaching An Qin’s right ear.

“Doctor An.”

An Qin’s breath stopped.

Someone was calling her.

The voice came from inside the car, as though someone utterly exhausted had forced the cry for help from their throat through sheer willpower.

It was very quiet.

Very weak.

And very familiar.

It was Shang Tinglan!