After Dating the President O, I Turned Into a Puppy-Like Lover - Chapter 4

The next day at noon, Jiang He met Dan Sirou at a café.

All the way there, Jiang He felt unusually dazed, as if she was walking through a dream.

She should have been nervous—and she was. In the blazing heat of midsummer, with the sun hanging mercilessly overhead, her palms were inexplicably cool. She clenched her fingers again and again, only to feel them grow slick with sweat.

After crossing an intersection, she turned the corner and spotted the café they had agreed on—a modestly sized shop with understated, elegant décor.

Standing outside, she could see through the glass doors into the interior. Many people were seated inside, working or enjoying afternoon tea. Foot traffic flowed endlessly around her. Jiang He suddenly felt at a loss.

Dan Sirou hadn’t arrived yet.

She had made appointments with Dan Sirou twice before. Those two occasions had cast a deep shadow over Jiang He’s young heart at the time, to the point that she later grew to detest nothing more than people who broke their word. Of course, given her own strength as a top-tier Alpha and the formidable backing of the Jiang family, anyone who knew her identity went out of their way to curry favor with her—how could anyone dare leave a bad impression?

This meeting with Dan Sirou filled her with excitement, yet she couldn’t help recalling those past experiences.

She was afraid Dan Sirou wouldn’t come.

Standing amid the crowd, Jiang He sank into her memories, her mind drifting.

Until a clear, gentle voice called her name.

“Jiang He.”

She snapped back to reality. An elegant, beautiful girl was pushing open the café door and walking toward her, a hint of puzzlement on her face.

“Have you been here long? Why didn’t you come inside?” Dan Sirou asked. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m sitting in the far-right corner.”

Jiang He turned her head blankly to look into the café. Near the entrance, three tall, broad-shouldered boys were playing cards, perfectly blocking the spot Dan Sirou had mentioned.

So, Dan Sirou had already been there the whole time.

“Oh,” Jiang He responded. She lifted her phone slightly, forcing a faint smile. “I didn’t have time to check.”

Her movements were stiff and awkward, like a puppet on strings.

Dan Sirou gave her a curious look. Jiang He’s reaction overturned her previous impression of her, but the sense of novelty barely had time to ferment before it quickly dissipated.

They were here to discuss business today.

“Let’s go in, then,” Dan Sirou said.

The café’s air conditioning was blasting.

Sitting across from each other, Jiang He took a sip of her latte and finally allowed herself to properly study the girl opposite her.

Dan Sirou was wearing a white shirt that looked cool and light in texture. Her hair was still worn loose, just as it had been when they were young—smooth and obedient—but much longer now. Back then, it had barely been long enough to tie up; now it fell all the way to her waist.

It wasn’t that Jiang He hadn’t seen her again after growing up. On the contrary, they had crossed paths many times. Each time, it was as if she possessed some strange intuition—no matter where she was looking, she could always sense Dan Sirou’s presence and pinpoint her location, stealing a distant glance from the crowd.

Jiang He didn’t know whether it was this face that had made her pay attention to a girl named Dan Sirou from such a young age, or whether it was Dan Sirou who had shaped her own ideals of beauty.

The bank card in her jeans pocket pressed insistently against her thigh through the thin fabric. Jiang He set down her latte, took out the card, and held it in her palm, thinking quietly for a moment before lifting her eyes to Dan Sirou again.

Those clear, limpid eyes made her grip tighten unconsciously.

A breath was stuck in her throat, no matter how hard she tried to release it.

Ever since borrowing money from her aunt the night before, she had been hesitating—did she really want to make this kind of deal with Dan Sirou? It was obvious that Dan Sirou was only resorting to this because her mother urgently needed money for surgery. If Jiang He had the means, why couldn’t she help her without any ulterior motive?

For more than ten hours, she had barely slept, caught in a relentless internal struggle.

Vindictiveness and compassion locked in stalemate, tormenting her even on the way here.

Yet after all that agonizing, in the instant Dan Sirou pushed open the glass door and dazzled her, Jiang He found—without realizing it—that she already had her answer.

It belonged to neither of those emotions.

She simply wanted to possess Dan Sirou.

That realization filled her with shame, and she kept substituting others into her place, over and over again.

What would Xu Yiran do if she was in this situation? With Yiran’s character, if she had the ability, she would definitely help without hesitation. And her cousin Fu Jiu—she would surely rush forward without a second thought. Even Zhou Yi, usually timid yet deeply righteous, probably wouldn’t ask for anything in return.

They were all noble.

And her.

Desire was like a gray spider, spinning its web around her heart.

Only then did she realize it.

Jiang He, so this is who you are—a petty person who takes advantage of others when they’re vulnerable.

“There’s exactly one hundred thousand in the card,” Jiang He said, slowly pushing it toward Dan Sirou. “The password is one-two-three-four-five-six.”

She tried her best to appear casual, to mask the guilt churning inside her.

Dan Sirou nodded but didn’t immediately take the card. Instead, she took a half-folded piece of paper from her bag and handed it to Jiang He. “Don’t rush. Take a look at this first. If there’s no problem, then we’ll talk about the money.”

Jiang He: “?”

Jiang He reached out to take it. It was a contract. She couldn’t help laughing. “This formal?”

“Of course,” Dan Sirou replied. “Since it’s just a transaction, this at least helps avoid a lot of unnecessary trouble.”

“I won’t go back on my word,” Jiang He said, lowering the contract slightly so she could meet Dan Sirou’s gaze. Her eyes were sincere, her tone earnest.

“I believe you,” Dan Sirou said just as seriously, meeting her eyes. “And I won’t renege either.”

“But it’s still better to sign it. That way, we’re both protected. Don’t you think?”

Jiang He fell silent.

She skimmed through the contract. Dan Sirou was Party A; she herself was Party B.

It mainly outlined each party’s rights and obligations—for instance, that the final right of interpretation belonged to Party A, while Party B could decide the time and place. What it emphasized most was that Jiang He was not allowed to publicize anything related to this transaction; if she violated this, Party A had the right to terminate the contract at any time.

None of this was an issue for Jiang He. She accepted it readily.

Before signing, she said, “Can I add one condition?”

Dan Sirou: “?”

Jiang He twirled the pen between her fingers. “During the term of the contract, you can’t have contact with Alphas I dislike.”

Dan Sirou frowned. “How am I supposed to know who you dislike? There are so many Alphas in the world—does that mean I’m not allowed to meet anyone?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t make such an unreasonable demand,” Jiang He explained. “I mean certain ones—with ulterior motives toward you.”

Afraid of being misunderstood, she added, “You know, Alphas have strong territorial instincts. I don’t want you carrying some other Alpha’s strange scent when I mark you.”

Yes—what she was really targeting was Zhou Tingchen.

He was like a thorn deeply embedded in her heart.

She wanted to eliminate every possibility.

“Alright,” Dan Sirou nodded, agreeing.

Jiang He raised the pen. “Okay, then I’ll sign.”

Since Dan Sirou’s susceptibility period was approaching, they discussed it and decided to schedule the first marking for tomorrow afternoon.

The location: Dan Sirou’s home.

Jiang He’s dull, uneventful life suddenly leaped from roadside food stalls straight into a five-star hotel. The dreamlike unreality wrapped around her like thick clouds she couldn’t descend from.

She never could have imagined that she and Dan Sirou—two people whose lives had never intersected would jump from zero to eighty in an instant.

Today, following the address Dan Sirou had given her, Jiang He arrived downstairs at Building Three of Ruiyuan Residential Complex.

This was where Dan Sirou lived now.

It was an old residential area. After all of Dan Sirou’s family properties had been auctioned off, she and her mother had rented a place here. The buildings were worn and aged, clearly showing their years. None of the units had been renovated. There were no elevators, and the tallest building had only seven floors.

Jiang He waited downstairs for a while before Dan Sirou finally arrived.

At the stairwell, they ran into an elderly woman who had just returned from grocery shopping. She seemed familiar with Dan Sirou, and upon seeing her bring along an unfamiliar girl, she asked warmly, “Xiao Rou, bringing a friend home?”

“Yes, Auntie,” Dan Sirou replied with a bright smile.

Jiang He watched the smile blooming on her profile, her heart quietly filling to the brim. What she didn’t see was the fleeting trace of sorrow that surfaced the moment that smile slowly faded.

Dan Sirou lived on the fifth floor. There were two units per level, and the corridor was notably narrow.

When the door opened, the interior of the apartment was revealed.

Jiang He glanced around at the layout.

It appeared to be a two-bedroom unit. The living room was quite small—just a few quick steps from the entrance and you were already at the far end. The owner was clearly someone who valued cleanliness. Though space was limited, everything was neatly arranged. Small plush toys were placed in thoughtful corners, lending the room a warm, homely feel.

“Are you used to living here?” Jiang He asked.

Dan Sirou handed her a pair of brand-new slippers while changing into her own. “It’s okay.”

She then went to wash her hands, still carrying the dust of the day with her, and casually added, “Make yourself comfortable.”

Jiang He agreed, but seeing how immaculately tidy the sofa was, she hesitated. She rarely visited other people’s homes and felt a little restrained, so she remained standing.

When Dan Sirou came back out, she tidied up a few scattered items out of habit.

Jiang He leaned against the doorway, watching her move about. Dan Sirou’s hair slipped loose as she worked; she tucked it back, only for it to fall again. Eventually, she rummaged through a small basket on the coffee table, found a hair tie, and tied it up.

In her movements, there lingered both the softness of a girl and the faint allure of a grown woman.

Standing there, doing nothing at all, she was already a scene that stirred hormones.

Jiang He didn’t even realize that the corners of her lips had lifted slightly.

“The conditions here aren’t great,” Dan Sirou said after she finished tidying up. She poured Jiang He a cup of water in a disposable cup and handed it to her. “You’re probably not used to this.”

Jiang He shook her head. “No, it’s fine.”

She took a sip, then glanced around again. Her cheeks warmed as she forced herself to bring up the real reason she was here. “Later, will it be here, or in your—”

The word room got stuck in her throat before she could say it. Dan Sirou answered first, a little too quickly, “Here. In the living room.”

Their gazes collided. Jiang He could tell Dan Sirou didn’t want her to enter her bedroom.

“Alright,” Jiang He replied.

She cast one lingering look at the two closed doors. Somehow, she could tell which one belonged to Dan Sirou. For reasons she couldn’t explain, a strange sense of familiarity surged through her mind, as though a memory from another time had slipped in.

The feeling vanished in an instant, and Jiang He didn’t dwell on it.

She was still utterly inexperienced when it came to intimacy. Theoretically, she hadn’t even opened her biology textbooks despite them being required reading; practically, she was nothing like Zhou Yi, who had consumed countless films and books of questionable content. How exactly one marked an omega was, for her, a genuine problem.

The atmosphere abruptly fell silent. Given the purpose of this visit, their interaction was bound to be anything but simple. Even the briefest brush of eye contact made Jiang He’s heart speed up uncontrollably—despite her usual cold, iceberg-like composure.

All her life, it had been others who couldn’t withstand her gaze. Never had she imagined she would be the one pinned down by someone else’s presence. Now, she couldn’t even bring herself to meet Dan Sirou’s eyes, turning her head aside instead. “When do we start?”

“Now,” Dan Sirou said.

Jiang He: “……”

She wasn’t ready.

Her hands clenched unconsciously. Dan Sirou said now, but they were still standing at a distance. Dan Sirou didn’t move closer, and Jiang He didn’t dare approach either. Even if she did what then? Dan Sirou was wearing a shirt. Was she supposed to walk up, undo the buttons herself, pull it down, then lean in from behind and bite?

Jiang He: “…”

As if sensing her turmoil, Dan Sirou took the initiative and stepped forward.

Now they stood face to face, close enough for Jiang He to clearly see her features.

From afar, she looked like a work of art. Up close, there wasn’t a single flaw to be found.

Her eyes were shaped like peach blossoms, dark and glossy, so clear they seemed to reflect light. Though unadorned by makeup, the corners of her eyes held a natural flush. Her nose bridge was straight, her lips moist and luminous, like cherries. Her skin was fair and unblemished, free of the stress-induced marks so common at their age—if she went out with an old friend, that friend would surely ask what skincare she used.

Her bangs parted softly at the center, framing her cheeks. One strand brushed against the corner of her lips, making Jiang He’s heart itch with the urge to tuck it away. But under Dan Sirou’s steady gaze, her hands felt numb, as though anesthetized.

Wanting to act but being unable to was suffocating.

The next moment, Dan Sirou adjusted her hair herself. Jiang He’s chest felt suddenly hollow—relieved, yet faintly regretful.

Dan Sirou’s slender hand lingered near her ear. She averted her gaze. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

With that, she left.

Jiang He stood alone in the living room, watching her retreating figure. The tension in her body finally eased, and she let out a long breath.

Dan Sirou returned quickly. Water still clung to her face, droplets caught in the loose strands at her temples—she had clearly just washed up.

Whenever they faced each other, Jiang He’s eyes were instinctively drawn to her eyes and lips. Naturally, she noticed the unnatural redness around Dan Sirou’s eyes—and though she didn’t say it aloud, she likely knew why.

Dan Sirou.

Jiang He’s heart clenched as if grabbed by an invisible hand. Once again, the urge to retreat surged up.

Leave. Just leave.

The cries rose from the depths of her mind—weak, powerless—soon swallowed by the thickening fog of desire.

“If you feel uncomfortable, we don’t have to do this,” Jiang He said, just before reason was completely devoured. “The hundred thousand, just consider it—”

“We’ll do it today.”

Dan Sirou cut her off.

Her pitch-black eyes shone with an unyielding resolve.

Every unfinished word jammed in Jiang He’s throat. She didn’t know whether it was desire overpowering reason or simply her habit of yielding to Dan Sirou.

Then Dan Sirou turned around of her own accord.

Her pale fingers slowly reached for her collar. She hesitated for barely a second before gently closing her eyes. In the quiet living room, the faint sound of fabric sliding filled the air.

Graceful lines of shoulder and neck were revealed, white as snow.

At the center bloomed a hint of flushed pink—like a grain of vermilion against the white.

It was the most precious, most private part of an omega, now laid bare before an Alpha. With every breath the girl took, that hidden spring of desire rose and fell, silently beckoning the Alpha behind her.

Jiang He’s throat tightened unbearably. It took her a long moment to regain sensation enough to swallow. The brief moisture sliding down her throat did nothing to ease the dryness. Flames roared in her chest, threatening to burn her to the ground.