After Becoming a Scummy Alpha, I Became a Slave to My Beloved Wife - Chapter 31
After the kiss, perhaps due to the effects of the cold medicine finally kicking in, Jiang Nian began to feel drowsy. Her body exhausted, she clung to Qiao Wenyu and quickly drifted off to sleep.
Her sleep was heavy and restless. Even with her eyes closed, Jiang Nian was tormented by fevered dreams. Delirious from the high temperature, she imagined a volcanic eruption, lava bursting and flowing everywhere.
Qiao Wenyu stayed by her side, gently pressing a cold towel to her burning cheeks. After a few passes, Jiang Nian’s expression gradually relaxed, no longer furrowed in pain.
By the time evening came around, Jiang Nian stirred awake. Her eyes were dry and gritty, her entire body drenched in sweat. It seemed the fever had finally broken.
“Wenyu…” Jiang Nian called out the moment she opened her eyes, searching instinctively for her.
But the room was empty.
She sat up in bed, mind still a little foggy. As her drowsiness faded, memories from earlier began to surface bit by bit.
She had hugged her… kissed her… confessed to her.
Jiang Nian groaned, hoarsely letting out a muffled “ah—” as she covered her forehead with her hand, rubbing it in frustration.
Unbelievable. She had come all this way just to celebrate Qiao Wenyu’s birthday. Getting drenched in the rain and catching a fever was one thing—but then she had the nerve to confess and steal a kiss?
“Jiang Xiao Nian, seriously… you’re too much.” She scolded herself, reverting to her full name and adding the diminutive “Xiao” to make herself feel even smaller.
So foolish.
Now all she could do was rest her chin on her hand and try to figure out how she was supposed to face Qiao Wenyu when she returned.
Would she say yes?
And if not… maybe at least consider it?
Before Jiang Nian could spiral further into her thoughts, Qiao Wenyu returned from the downstairs restaurant.
“You’re awake? Feeling better?” Qiao Wenyu walked in carrying a takeout container of fish porridge. She opened the lid and set a spoon inside. “Eat something. Then take another dose of medicine. You had a fever all afternoon—you must be starving.”
Jiang Nian’s stomach grumbled at the mention of food. She got out of bed and walked to the small table. “Thank you, Jiejie. It’s your birthday, and you’ve ended up taking care of me instead.”
“You really shouldn’t be so reckless next time.” Qiao Wenyu gave a light laugh. “Traveling all that way just to deliver a sick little puppy—this birthday present scared the life out of me.”
“Haha…” Jiang Nian could only laugh awkwardly to ease the embarrassment. Her legs were still weak, and even sitting down required effort.
Qiao Wenyu instinctively reached out to steady her. “Careful.”
The spot where Qiao Wenyu’s fingers brushed her arm felt like it was on fire, and the heat seemed to radiate right up into her chest.
After sitting down, Jiang Nian took the bowl and spoon and began eating slowly. Every bite was flavored with nervousness. She could clearly feel Qiao Wenyu’s eyes on her, studying every expression, every tiny movement.
So close—so painfully close.
And yet, she still hadn’t gotten an answer to her confession.
After the meal, Jiang Nian debated inwardly for a long time before finally deciding she couldn’t wait any longer.
“Jiejie…”
Qiao Wenyu was reading over some documents. She thought Jiang Nian wanted to talk about work. “What is it? You’re not fully recovered yet—we’re not discussing work right now.”
“That’s not it.” Jiang Nian reached out and took Qiao Wenyu’s wrist, locking eyes with her and mustering every ounce of courage she had. “Jiejie, I want an answer.”
“Hm?” Qiao Wenyu blinked, caught off guard.
Jiang Nian gently took Qiao Wenyu’s hand and pressed it against her own chest—right over her heart.
“Jiejie, I like you. Did you know that?”
Qiao Wenyu reacted as though she had touched a burning stove. She instantly pulled her hand away, her expression falling.
“Xiao Nian, I know… it’s just…”
Jiang Nian waited silently, eyes steady.
“I… I don’t feel that way about you. I’m sorry.”
Qiao Wenyu’s eyes were full of sorrow. She didn’t even dare to meet Jiang Nian’s gaze again. She was terrified that one more second of eye contact would make her lose control of her emotions.
Jiang Nian let out a bitter laugh and set down her cup.
“Looks like it was all in my head. I’m sorry, Jiejie.”
“Xiao Nian…”
You shouldn’t be the one apologizing.
The one who should be sorry… is me.
Tears welled in Jiang Nian’s eyes, but she held them back. Grabbing her belongings, she walked to the door and said, with her back to Qiao Wenyu,
“Jiejie, happy birthday… goodbye.”
She opened the door and fled.
The faster she walked, the blurrier her vision became. It wasn’t until she stumbled out of the hotel that she realized her face was soaked with tears.
So this… is what it feels like to be rejected.
Jiang Nian had never understood before. She used to wonder how her college roommate could cry for a whole month over a breakup.
Now she knew.
It hurt—so much.
President Jiang, who had arrived with such purpose, now returned to the airport just as miserably as she had come.
On the plane back, Jiang Nian stared out into the pitch-black night sky through the window, slowly trying to rein in her emotions.
She knew she wouldn’t be able to forget someone so quickly, but she had no choice. She needed to start finding a way to erase the memory of that night.
Back home, Jiang Nian locked herself in her office.
She didn’t come out until the next day, when her assistant used a spare key to open the door. She finally rose from the sofa—her eyes sunken, dark circles heavy beneath them. Her worn-out appearance startled Lu Renbing.
“President Jiang, are you alright? I thought you hadn’t returned—you had the office locked.”
Lu Renbing rushed to the windows and flung them open for some air.
Jiang Nian stood up wearily. “I’m fine. Just thought I’d get back to work early.”
“Miss Qiao must’ve been really happy to see you showed up,” Lu Renbing said with a smile.
Jiang Nian’s expression immediately darkened. She didn’t reply.
Realizing he had struck a nerve, Lu Renbing quickly changed the subject.
“Ah—President Jiang, um, Miss Jiang Qianqian came by twice. She wants to invite you to dinner. She said since you treated her last time, she wants to return the favor.”
“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to see anyone.”
Jiang Nian’s voice was hoarse—so rough it sounded like sandpaper.
Lu Renbing hesitated. “Well… the second time, it was President Jiang—Fenyun—who came on her sister’s behalf. You know, refusing might come off a bit harsh.”
“Fenyun? Since when did she start indulging her sister like this?” Jiang Nian pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to massage away the headache.
“She said she’s worried her sister will keep pestering you about it. She figured, better you just go once and get it over with.”
Jiang Nian found that oddly reasonable. “Alright. I’ll change and head over.”
“I’ll inform Miss Jiang Qianqian,” Lu Renbing replied, then turned and left the office.
Jiang Nian walked into the private room at the back of her office. She pulled some clothes at random from the closet and, after taking a hot shower, felt slightly more human. Still, as she stared at herself in the mirror, her features were lined with grief.
When she arrived at the restaurant Jiang Qianqian had reserved, Jiang Nian engaged in small talk only sparingly.
“Jiang-jie, I heard your project is going smoothly. Congratulations!” Jiang Qianqian lifted her wine glass, hoping for a toast.
Jiang Nian took a sip on her own, not bothering to clink glasses. Her responses were brief and indifferent.
But Jiang Qianqian didn’t seem to mind at all. She kept chatting away, her admiration for Jiang Nian clearly written all over her face.
Jiang Nian happened to catch the look in her eyes.
She wasn’t sure whether the affection was genuine or just a performance—but for some reason, it made her wonder:
Was this how I looked at Qiao Wenyu, too?
“What do you even like about me?” Jiang Nian couldn’t help but ask.
Jiang Xianxian was briefly taken aback. After a moment of serious thought, she replied sincerely,
“I like everything about you—your looks, your voice, the way you carry yourself. I like it all.”
“But she doesn’t like people like me. She even said… she doesn’t feel that way about me.”
Jiang Nian covered her eyes, trying her hardest to hold back the burning sting in her nose.
Jiang Xianxian looked at her with a touch of sympathy. She reached out and gently held Jiang Nian’s hand, speaking in a soft, affectionate tone,
“Jiang-jie, don’t be sad.”
Just then, a hand extended from a dark corner outside the restaurant window. The person held a camera and, without warning, pressed the shutter—capturing the scene inside with a flash.
But Jiang Nian, overwhelmed by grief, didn’t notice. Nor did she catch the brief, sly glint that flashed through Jiang Xianxian’s eyes.
—
Since the heartbreak, Jiang Nian had been deliberately avoiding Qiao Wenyu.
In the past, she would make time after work to pick her up, bring her home, and help ease Qiao Wenyu’s pheromone deficiency by releasing enough of her own. That quiet, shared routine had become a part of their lives.
But now… she avoided her altogether. Even when they crossed paths at home, Jiang Nian would pretend not to see her.
She knew this kind of distance wouldn’t truly dull the pain in her heart. Even after being rejected, she couldn’t stop thinking about Qiao Wenyu.
Like when the weather turned colder—while layering her own clothes, she’d wonder if Qiao Wenyu was freezing during outdoor shoots.
She’d think about her filming summer scenes in the cold, worried she might catch a cold or come down with a fever.
After enduring her own susceptibility period alone, Jiang Nian would often find herself zoning out in front of the window, thinking about how Qiao Wenyu must be suffering through her heat cycle alone, enduring the symptoms of pheromone withdrawal without anyone to help her.
One night, Jiang Nian finally couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to know how Qiao Wenyu was doing—if she was still okay.
She still needed alpha pheromones, and Jiang Nian hadn’t provided any lately. Was she suffering physically because of it?
The thought left her restless.
Quietly, Jiang Nian slipped out of her room. After making sure no one was around, she tiptoed to Qiao Wenyu’s bedroom door and pressed her ear to it.
There were faint sounds of movement—soft footsteps. She hadn’t gone to sleep yet.
Jiang Nian leaned against the door and waited patiently. Over ten minutes passed before the footsteps stopped and the light beneath the door went dark.
If I go in now, she probably hasn’t fallen asleep yet, Jiang Nian thought.
She crouched there until her legs went numb. Only when the room grew completely silent did she stand up again. Her hand hovered over the doorknob—tightening, loosening, over and over.
Finally, she took a deep breath, gritted her teeth, and slowly turned the handle. The door creaked open.
The room was pitch dark. She could hear only the gentle sound of breathing.
That familiar rose-scented pheromone floated into her nose. Jiang Nian’s throat tightened. She wanted to inhale more—just a little more.
Suppressing the urge building inside her, she stepped carefully into the room like a thief. She approached the bed slowly, leaned over, and gently touched Qiao Wenyu’s earlobe with her fingertips.
“Mmm…”
Qiao Wenyu stirred, mumbling in her sleep.
Jiang Nian’s heart skipped a beat. She held her breath, completely still.
But Qiao Wenyu didn’t wake. Her breathing stayed calm and even.
Jiang Nian wanted to touch her face—but her fingers hovered in hesitation. In the end, she pulled her hand back, crouched beside the bed, and braced herself with one hand on the pillow’s edge.
She slowly released her pheromones, letting the red wine scent quietly fill the room.
Qiao Wenyu, even in her dreams, seemed to relax. Her brow softened, and she let out a small sound—then murmured,
“…Xiao Nian…”
The sound of her own name, spoken so softly, made Jiang Nian’s heart ache in ways she couldn’t put into words.