The Poor Little Thing Was Brought Home by An Iceberg Omega - Chapter 5

Shang Tinglan’s scrutinizing gaze crossed the silent study and settled on An Qin’s face.

Clean, pretty features. A pair of slightly dazed almond-shaped eyes. A delicate, refined nose. Lips pressed faintly together. A softly contoured oval face with smooth, graceful lines.

She wore nothing more than a simple white T-shirt and loose, light-colored jeans. Her figure was slender, and her cheeks were almost excessively pale, as though she were undernourished.

Yet last night, when An Qin had shoved those two men away from the car and pinned Shang Tinglan’s wrists, she had been anything but weak.

“President Shang.”

“Doctor An.” Shang Tinglan nodded. “Come in. Close the door.”

An Qin dragged her strangely heavy legs into the study and gently shut the door behind her.

Shang Tinglan walked toward the tea table on the western side of the room and sat in the main seat on the inner side, then raised her eyes toward An Qin, who was still standing by the door.

“Come here.”

An Qin shuffled forward a few steps, like a student summoned by a teacher for a private talk and too nervous to get close. She stopped five or six meters behind the guest chair, standing stiffly upright. Her hands clasped together in front of her, then moved behind her back.

“Planning to stand there the whole time?”

“…”

An Qin stepped forward and sat down stiffly, perching on only a third of the chair with her back perfectly straight.

Shang Tinglan lowered her eyes and warmed the teaware. She picked up the tea scoop, used a teaspoon to transfer tea leaves into a white porcelain gaiwan, gently shook it to release the fragrance, then poured in boiling water. The leaves floated to the surface before she covered the bowl again, every movement calm and unhurried.

“You got soaked in the rain last night. Are you feeling unwell anywhere?” Shang Tinglan asked, lifting her gaze.

An Qin had been unconsciously staring at Shang Tinglan’s hands as she made tea. They were beautiful—slender and long, soft and elegant. Hearing her voice, An Qin looked up and met Shang Tinglan’s eyes directly.

Shang Tinglan lightly tapped a finger against the table.

An Qin immediately lowered her gaze and shook her head. “Thank you for asking, President Shang. I took the cold medicine Secretary Su gave me last night. I don’t feel unwell today.”

After a pause, An Qin looked up. “Are you feeling unwell anywhere, President Shang?”

Shang Tinglan simply looked at her without speaking.

Being stared at like that made the space between An Qin’s brows twitch. She lowered her head again.

The corner of Shang Tinglan’s lips curved slightly.

For one brief second, she clearly looked pleased again.

The tea finished steeping. Shang Tinglan poured it into the fairness pitcher, then served some to An Qin. Her long fingers held the rim of the small white porcelain cup as she placed it in front of her, the tea inside clear and bright.

“It’s white tea. Try it.”

Flustered by the attention, An Qin immediately stood and reached for the cup with both hands.

“Don’t touch it. It’s hot. Sit down.”

An Qin pulled her hands back and sat down awkwardly.

“I’m not feeling unwell.” Shang Tinglan pushed a plate of tea snacks toward An Qin, her voice slow and measured. “Thank you for what happened last night.”

An Qin accepted the plate with both hands. “You’re too kind, President Shang. It was what I should have done.”

“What you should have done?” Shang Tinglan raised an eyebrow. “You mean you should have marked me?”

An Qin shot to her feet. “No, President Shang, that’s not what I meant… President Shang, I’m sorry. About last night, I really apologize. I promise I’ll keep everything confidential.”

“You saved me, and yet you’re apologizing.” Shang Tinglan spoke slowly, her tone impossible to read.

An Qin lowered her head and twisted her fingers together.

The more she spoke, the more mistakes she made. She no longer knew what she was supposed to say—or even where to put her hands.

“Sit down. The tea has cooled a little. Have some,” Shang Tinglan said.

An Qin sat down as though granted a pardon and lifted the cup with both hands.

The tea was neither as bitter nor as astringent as she had expected. Instead, it carried a distinctive, delicate sweetness.

It was delicious.

“Last night,” Shang Tinglan’s voice suddenly came from across the table, unhurried and calm, “felt pretty good.”

An Qin’s eyes flew wide open and trembled. She slowly lowered her cup, a mouthful of tea frozen inside her mouth.

“Monday,” Shang Tinglan said, watching An Qin’s puffed cheeks, “we’re going to the Civil Affairs Bureau.”

“?!”

An Qin choked and sprayed the tea straight out.

Almost at the same instant, Shang Tinglan stood, amusement flashing briefly through her eyes.

Fortunately, An Qin had lowered her head, so the water sprayed onto the table instead, though neither the teacup nor the snacks escaped unscathed.

An Qin hurriedly got to her feet and accidentally knocked over the teacup as well. Panicking, she reached for some tissues, only for someone else to pick them up first.

Then the soft tissue was pressed gently against her lips and chin.

An Qin’s heart pounded like a drum. She stared blankly at the hand extended toward her, her mind completely empty.

Shang Tinglan was standing very close.

An Qin could smell the distinctive cool cedar scent on her—aloof and crisp, mingled with a faint trace of the tea she had just spilled.

Shang Tinglan lowered her lashes and leisurely wiped An Qin’s face clean before turning to wipe the water from the table.

An Qin finally snapped back to herself and apologized repeatedly. “I’m sorry, President Shang. Let me, let me do it.”

Shang Tinglan blocked her with her body and did not let her come closer.

She poured out the water in the cup, moved the plate of tea snacks aside, wiped the table clean, and threw away the soaked tissues before finally turning back toward An Qin.

“Do you want to get back together with your ex-girlfriend?”

An Qin froze.

Shang Tinglan already knew she and Lin Lulu had broken up?

“Hmm?”

“No.” An Qin shook her head. “No.”

Lin Lulu had been deceiving her for an entire month. How could she possibly want to reconcile?

“Then,” Shang Tinglan said, taking one step closer, “you don’t want to take responsibility for me?”

Take responsibility?

How had the conversation gotten here?

“No…”

Color rose and drained from An Qin’s face in turns.

“Did you ever permanently mark your ex-girlfriend?”

An Qin shook her head repeatedly.

Lin Lulu had never said it outright, but An Qin knew she cared that An Qin was only the lowest C-rank Alpha and did not want to be marked by her.

“Then what is it?”

An Qin lowered her head and wiped the water from the back of her hand. It had actually dried after only two swipes, but she kept wiping it over and over as she whispered, “I’m a C-rank Alpha. I’m not good enough for you…”

How could a C-rank possibly match an S-rank?

Their social status was worlds apart as well.

“Whether you’re good enough for me isn’t for you to decide. Besides, there’s a high chance you’re not C-rank at all. Even if you are, I don’t care.”

An Qin looked up in shock and met Shang Tinglan’s utterly composed gaze.

Shang Tinglan turned, picked up a document from the desk, and handed it to her. “I have hyper-concentrated pheromone syndrome. During my heat, my pheromone concentration rises to several times that of a normal Omega. Usually, before my heat begins, I wear a suppressant bracelet and avoid going out as much as possible. Last night was an accident.”

An Qin lowered her head to read the test report.

The entire page was filled with upward arrows. The numbers were far above normal ranges.

“Last night, you were the only Alpha who remained conscious. The facts prove that your pheromones are highly compatible with me. So I need you.”

An Qin could not quite process every word, but she understood the meaning.

“I’m not a casual person, An Qin, and I believe you aren’t either. We’ll get married. A real marriage. You, your sister, and I will live together. This place is close to your sister’s school. Once we’re married, we can live here.”

An Qin knew every negotiation came with a price.

“Other than marking you… President Shang, what else do you need me to do?” An Qin unconsciously tightened her grip on the paper, staring down at it as she asked.

Shang Tinglan looked thoughtful.

“Doctor An, are you saying there’s something else you’d like to do to me?”

An Qin’s face instantly turned red. “No, President Shang. That’s not what I meant. Really, it isn’t…”

Shang Tinglan silently savored the words “really, it isn’t.”

She turned away. “An Qin, all I need is for you to give me temporary marks regularly so I can remain lucid and stable. Of course, I believe the most important thing is that you should take responsibility for me.”

An Qin bit her lip.

If she had known that being summoned here today meant being asked to take responsibility, then last night she…

She probably still would have marked Shang Tinglan.

She did not want to lose her job, and under those circumstances, she would definitely have saved her.

“President Shang…” Everything had happened too suddenly. An Qin could barely get her voice out. “Can I go back and think about it?”

Shang Tinglan looked at her without speaking.

One second.

Two seconds.

An Qin felt certain Shang Tinglan was about to tell her she was fired. The words she had prepared were already on the tip of her tongue—

“Of course,” Shang Tinglan said softly.

An Qin quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Shang Tinglan lifted her chin slightly. “You don’t have class during the first two periods tomorrow afternoon. I’ll wait for you at the Civil Affairs Bureau on Fuxue Road at two. I’ll wait until three.”

An Qin nodded stiffly.

Shang Tinglan knew everything.

She knew about her ex-girlfriend.

She even knew her class schedule.

Shang Tinglan picked up a small box from the desk and handed it to her. “A birthday present for your sister, and also my way of thanking you. I won’t meet her today. If you choose to take responsibility for me tomorrow, then I’ll meet her properly.”

An Qin had not even taken it yet, but already felt as though it would burn her hands.

“It’s nothing expensive. Just a peace-buckle pendant. Don’t refuse it. I simply hope your sister stays safe and well from now on.”

An Qin accepted the gift with both hands and bowed slightly. “Thank you, President Shang.”

Shang Tinglan looked deeply at her. “Go back. See you tomorrow.”

An Qin nearly blurted out “See you tomorrow” in return, but managed to swallow the words in time. She turned and opened the door.

Shang Tinglan removed the hairpin and placed it on the desk, letting her long hair cascade down. Then she took off her glasses and hooked them at her chest before casually running her fingers back through her hair from the widow’s peak at her hairline.

“An Qin,” she suddenly called.

Still holding the doorknob, An Qin turned around.

What she saw was a somewhat languid Shang Tinglan.

Her long hair spilled loosely around her shoulders. Without the gold-rimmed glasses obscuring her features, her smooth forehead was fully revealed, and those eyes—with slightly hooked inner corners and gently upturned outer corners—rested on An Qin.

“Don’t make me wait too long,” Shang Tinglan said.