After Dating the President O, I Turned Into a Puppy-Like Lover - Chapter 21

Among the greenery of Qingyu High School, there is a grove that is the most pleasing to the eye. The scenery here is beautiful, planted with vegetation unique to Dongcheng. Every March and April, white petals drift down like snow, creating a breathtaking scene that draws many visitors eager to take photos.

At the center of the grove stands a pavilion, inside which rests a stone table and stools.

A girl with long, coffee-colored hair cascading down to her waist sits there, absorbed in a book laid open before her. The mid-October sunlight filters in, painting the moment like a poetic watercolor. If someone was to set up a camera here, they could easily capture a series of exquisite photographs.

Duan Xinchun often comes here alone during her free time.

Jiang He knows this habit of hers. Today, she deliberately came to find her, bringing along two cups of warm floral tea. On a day when the air grows colder, holding the cup in one’s hands feels especially comforting.

She walked lightly, carefully, hoping to surprise her friend.

But before she could, Duan Xinchun, as though she had eyes on her back, spoke without lifting her head:

“Is that you, Jiang He?”

Her plan exposed, Jiang He felt a little deflated.

“How did you know it was me?” She sat down beside her, handing over one of the teas. “This is for you.”

Duan Xinchun accepted it with a sweet smile. “Thank you.”

As she slid the straw into the cup, she explained, “It’s simple. Your footsteps are easy to recognize.”

Jiang He frowned. “But I was walking as carefully as I could.”

Duan Xinchun chuckled. “You can consciously change the weight of your steps, but the rhythm is unconscious. I can tell it’s you the moment I hear it.”

Jiang He nodded thoughtfully, deciding not to dwell on it.

One hand holding her tea, the other turning a page, Duan Xinchun glanced at Jiang He but didn’t ask why she had come today, or why she had brought tea.

Noticing Jiang He’s long ponytail draped over one shoulder, Duan Xinchun smiled. “So, when are you planning to cut your hair?”

Jiang He instinctively touched her hair, then pushed it back. “Is it that long?”

“Not too bad.” Her ponytail was tied high, falling just past her shoulders—long, but not excessively so. What Duan Xinchun really meant was: “I remember back then, your hair was barely long enough for a braid. You tied it into this ridiculous little plait—it was such a sight.” She pressed her lips together, laughing at the memory.

Jiang He: “…”

The memory hit her too. Without a doubt, it was a black mark in her personal history.

Back then, she had just returned from the islands. Life there was harsh and exhausting, and she lived like a tomboy. Clumsy and awkward, she didn’t master the skills expected of girls until after elementary school.

She vividly remembered her first visit to Duan Xinchun’s home wearing that ugly braid exactly as described.

The thought made her cringe. She stayed silent, waiting for the topic to pass.

In truth, Jiang He had come today with a purpose. Duan Xinchun knew it too, though she hadn’t exposed her. Since Jiang He wouldn’t speak, the atmosphere grew strange, and Duan Xinchun tried to ease it with casual conversation.

After a while, silence fell again.

Finally, Jiang He spoke directly: “Do you remember the talk we had at your house last time? I told you I’d found someone who could cure me.”

Duan Xinchun’s heart skipped, but she masked it well, turning another page calmly. “That person is Dan Sirou, isn’t it?”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

Jiang He’s eyes widened in shock.

“I already know.”

Duan Xinchun turned to her, gaze steady and guiding. “You two are just partners, right?” She hoped Jiang He would understand and give the answer she wanted.

But Jiang He, caught in the moment, nearly faltered.

“No,” she said firmly. “I like her.”

Duan Xinchun gave an awkward smile. “But last time you said, it hasn’t even been that long.”

“Jiang He, I understand. Marking an Omega can stir fleeting feelings, it’s normal. But you must distinguish clearly. Attraction to someone’s pheromones doesn’t necessarily mean you truly like them.”

“I’ve confirmed it again and again,” Jiang He said earnestly. “You know our relationship. I have to be honest with you.”

Duan Xinchun looked into her eyes, realizing Jiang He was serious.

“As long as you’ve thought it through.” She gave a bitter smile. “It’s not like we had anything binding. Who takes childhood betrothals seriously these days? If I met someone I loved, I’d follow my heart too.”

Her openness left Jiang He conflicted, both relieved and guilty. She could only repeat, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Duan Xinchun closed her book, smiling brightly.

“So, what’s next? Does the president feel the same way about you?”

Jiang He shook her head helplessly. “She doesn’t like me.”

“What?” Duan Xinchun laughed mischievously. “So even you get rejected.”

Usually, Jiang He seemed indifferent to everything, cold to those who tried to get close. Who would have thought she’d one day face rejection herself?

“But really,” Duan Xinchun tapped her chin thoughtfully, “how could you be so rough—dragging her straight into the restroom, and in the Alpha bathroom no less?”

Jiang He’s eyes widened. “You, you saw that?” Shame flooded her, and she wished she could sink into the ground.

Now she understood how Duan Xinchun knew about her and Dan Sirou.

“Yes, I saw.” Duan Xinchun teased, “I used to imagine that if we married, you’d be gentle and tender. Never thought you’d be like that—too much. Honestly, I even liked you once, but now—”

She shook her head, clearly unimpressed.

Jiang He: “…” Still drowning in mortification.

She had thought no one was around. No one!

How could it be that Duan Xinchun, someone she saw almost daily had witnessed that? The embarrassment was unbearable.

“No Omega likes doing such things in a place like that, Jiang He. If you truly care for the president, you can’t treat her that way. It will only push her further from you.”

Jiang He nodded in deep agreement. “I know.”

But the situation back then was hard to explain. Because the Omega had mistakenly consumed a drugged drink, the symptoms of stimulation were far stronger than usual, and Jiang He had found it nearly impossible to endure even for a moment.

“Alright, I’m heading back to the dorm.” Duan Xinchun clasped her book to her chest, stood up, and looked at Jiang He. “What about you?”

“I’ll sit here a little longer.” At that moment, Jiang He’s ears were still burning, her cheeks flushed so red she wished she could hide beneath a cloth.

Seeing the blush at the tips of her ears, Duan Xinchun suppressed a smile. “Then I’ll go first.”

Jiang He: “Okay.”

As she turned to leave, a fleeting shadow crossed Duan Xinchun’s warm, sunlit gaze.

She wasn’t as happy as she appeared.

At last, she had taken the chance to openly admit she had once liked Jiang He. Her teasing had been a form of self-defense. She felt guilty, but to mask the sting of being “abandoned” in that moment, she had no choice but to act that way.

By the end of the month, Dan Sirou would be taking her mother to the hospital for a second follow-up.

If the results weren’t optimistic, hospitalization would be necessary. So, the night before the appointment, she carefully prepared a set of clothes for her mother in case of admission, and tidied the house thoroughly inside and out.

It was nine o’clock by the time she finished these chores. She took pajamas and a dry towel from the wardrobe, ready to shower.

The cold white light of the bathroom illuminated the space.

Shadows fell across the girl’s figure as her slender fingers traced her skin, spreading body wash across every inch. Water and foam smoothed her body like polished jade. The shower sprayed down in a gentle cascade, rinsing away the lather, droplets sliding along the graceful curves of her form.

After cleansing herself, Dan Sirou dried the beads of water with a towel. As always, she stood before the mirror to check her gland.

A week had passed. The bite marks left by Alpha teeth on her gland had faded, but the milk-scented pheromones still pulsed in her bloodstream, perceptible with every heartbeat.

A flicker of disappointment crossed her moist eyes.

It seemed it would take a full month before that person’s scent completely disappeared from her body.

The effects of long-term marking were undeniable. These days had been difficult, she had to spray concealers daily to mask the lingering Alpha aura.

Marking was much like the old practice of men making women bear children. For Alphas, once the bite was done, there was nothing more to worry about. But for Omegas, the imprint remained inside them for weeks or months, impossible to wash away, like a brand declaring to strangers which Alpha they belonged to.

Still, it wasn’t something she dwelled on. Only after bathing, when forced to face her body directly, did she feel these fleeting emotions. At other times, she never harbored resentment about gender. It was simply that, in this particular stage, secrecy was necessary, she feared others finding out.

She dressed, blow-dried her hair, and her whole being carried a delicate fragrance.

The moment of sinking into the sofa after a bath was the most comfortable. The hot water had eased the day’s fatigue, her chores were complete, and her heart felt light.

Since that last meeting, Zhou Tingchen had called her every night to ask about her well-being.

Tonight was no exception. Just as she was scrolling through her phone, a call came in.

Their nightly conversations had restored some of their old rhythm. Now they could chat casually, like good friends.

“Tomorrow’s the follow-up at the hospital, right?” Zhou Tingchen asked.

“Yes,” Dan Sirou replied.

“I’ll go with you,” he said quickly, perhaps afraid she would refuse. He added, “I promised to visit Aunt Shu last time. I’ve been busy transferring schools and adjusting, so I kept putting it off. Tomorrow’s perfect, you shouldn’t have to handle everything alone.”

His words carried the clear plea: don’t reject me. He truly just wanted to share the burden.

Dan Sirou thought for a moment, then said politely, “Wouldn’t that trouble you?”

“Not at all.” Zhou Tingchen laughed. “I’d be glad if you troubled me.” His playful tone often carried a hint of genuine affection.