After the Bigshot Turned into a Gold-Digging Scumbag Alpha - Chapter 22

Jiang Shuiyun’s body went rigid. In an instant, she didn’t even know where to put her hands. Her heart hammered against her chest so violently that her tongue felt numb from the vibration.

She took a stiff step forward, but unexpectedly, Yi Jinbai only held on tighter. Jiang Shuiyun could only try to coax her back to her senses. “Jinbai?”

It was clearly a futile effort. Receiving no response, Jiang Shuiyun forced her attention away from the girl and toward her phone screen, which was about to go dark. “Stay away from Alphas; inject a suppressor?”

Looking at the simple, direct solution, Jiang Shuiyun frowned in frustration. Where would Yi Jinbai keep her suppressors?

Unlike Omegas, who have a fixed monthly estrus, Alphas only experience pheromone agitation when triggered by an Omega or other subjective factors. Furthermore, the suppressors for the two genders were not interchangeable.

Jiang Shuiyun closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself. She gently pried Yi Jinbai’s hands from her waist and led her to a nearby chair, intending to give her some water to clear her head enough to ask where the medicine was.

Between the alcohol and the estrus, Yi Jinbai looked entirely different from her usual self. Her skin was flushed a pale pink, and her normally clear, reserved eyes were misted over with a hazy glaze. She took a tiny sip of water, droplets clinging to her plump, red lips, before frowning reluctantly and refusing to drink another drop.

Keeping the girl half-propped against her chest, Jiang Shuiyun kept her eyes strictly on the water glass. “Jinbai, you have to tell me where the suppressor is.”

The water hadn’t helped at all. Yi Jinbai reached out like a child demanding sweets and stubbornly hooked her arms around Jiang Shuiyun’s neck. She pressed her burning cheek against Jiang Shuiyun’s face, letting out a comfortable sigh at the cool contact, finally settling down a little.

Yi Jinbai was comfortable, but Jiang Shuiyun was suffering. She downed the rest of the water in the glass, knowing full well that if this continued, things would spiral out of control.

She dug her nails into her palm, letting the sharp pain bring her logic back to the forefront. Holding her breath, she scooped Yi Jinbai up in a bridal carry, laid her on the bed, and quickly rolled her into a “burrito” with the quilt.

In one fluid motion, before the immobilized and tearful-looking Yi Jinbai could react, Jiang Shuiyun hardened her heart. She pulled a belt from the closet and lashed it around the quilt, securing the girl inside. “Wait here, Jinbai. I’ll find the suppressor soon,” she murmured comfortingly as she worked.

With the situation temporarily under control, Jiang Shuiyun turned on the room’s ventilation to prevent the pheromones from becoming too concentrated.

She scanned the room and began rummaging through the drawers. The biggest problem was that she didn’t even know what the suppressor looked like in this world; she had to keep referring to images on her phone.

As she pulled open several drawers, her hand paused. In the bedside table, she found a thick stack of music manuscript paper—just ordinary paper one could buy at any store.

This was likely Yi Jinbai’s original work. Knowing everyone deserves privacy, Jiang Shuiyun didn’t intend to touch it, but as she went to close the drawer, her eyes caught the title on the top sheet:

The Nineteenth Level of Hell

“The destination for the violent, the end of the road for the looters; all who run rampant should be here, facing execution for their sins.”

Jiang Shuiyun froze. Looking at the struggling girl on the bed, she realized exactly who those lyrics were referring to.

As expected, such severe trauma couldn’t be erased easily. Even if the surface was painted with peace and pushed deep into the heart, it would only rot and fester in a corner where no one could see.

Closing the drawer, Jiang Shuiyun faced the harm the “original host” had caused head-on for the first time. The heat in her brain completely cooled as she resumed her search.

Finally, in a corner of the wardrobe, she found the suppressors. It was a micro-injector no larger than a fingernail. Following the instructions, she administered it into the gland at the nape of Yi Jinbai’s neck.

The effect was almost instantaneous. The pheromones stopped spreading, and as the ventilation system hummed, the delicate fragrance nearly vanished.

Yi Jinbai gradually grew quiet, her eyes closing as she drifted into a deep sleep.

Jiang Shuiyun unfastened the belt, tucked her back into the quilt properly, and wiped the beads of sweat from the girl’s forehead. She pulled up a chair and sat by the bed, watching over her until she woke.

In truth, Yi Jinbai’s consciousness had returned the moment the suppressor was injected. However, the exhaustion from the ordeal combined with the alcohol left her without the strength to even open her eyes. Feeling the care Jiang Shuiyun was giving her, she allowed herself to fall into a peaceful sleep.

After ensuring Yi Jinbai was out cold, Jiang Shuiyun headed downstairs to get some work done.

Sitting before the computer, she prepared to refine Interstellar Wars. She activated the mecha interface on her wrist to link with the PC. While waiting for the progress bar to fill, she found herself staring blankly at the screen.

How did Yi Jinbai view her now? Was she trying to believe in the “new” Jiang Shuiyun while living in constant fear, wondering when the old version would return?

Ding!

The chime of the completed connection snapped her back to reality. She glanced toward the upstairs room. She would have a real talk with her once she woke up.

With the mecha linked, the standard OS was replaced by the mecha’s advanced programming, making the work much more intuitive for Jiang Shuiyun.

Time slipped by. Jiang Shuiyun stretched, looking at the running game. After her modifications, the graphics had taken a quantum leap, and the combat fluidity was vastly improved. She had even upgraded the control experience, though the difficulty level had spiked significantly.

The sound of a door opening upstairs made her look up. Yi Jinbai had washed her face and changed her clothes. Their eyes met as she looked down from the landing.

Jiang Shuiyun pursed her lips slightly. “Jinbai, I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Yi Jinbai came downstairs and sat opposite her. “Thank you for today.”

“You’re welcome.” Jiang Shuiyun kept her eyes on the screen, her fingers mindfully tapping the desk. “Jinbai, I know you studied music before. Do you want to continue on that path?”

“Ah?”

Jiang Shuiyun expected the surprise. She pressed on. “I know it was my fault before. I was stubborn and caused you so much pain. I’m truly sorry, so.”

“Didn’t you lose your memory?” Yi Jinbai interrupted, her gaze sharp with scrutiny and doubt.

“Uhm.” Jiang Shuiyun realized how hard lying was—one lie required a hundred more to cover it. She doubled down. “I don’t remember the details of the past, but I have a few vague, blurred memories regarding you.”

She felt the excuse was terrible and lowered her head to avoid Yi Jinbai’s eyes.

She could feel Yi Jinbai’s gaze lingering on her for a long time—so long that she unconsciously held her breath.

“If I have a choice, I want to keep going with music.”

Yi Jinbai didn’t call out the obvious lie. She answered the original question, allowing Jiang Shuiyun to finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Jiang Shuiyun looked up. “Good. I’ll help you. Do you want to go for further studies? Whatever you need, you must tell me.”

“Further studies?” Yi Jinbai repeated. “What exactly are you trying to do?”

“Nothing, just.”

Jiang Shuiyun had prepared a script in her head, but facing Yi Jinbai now, she became tongue-tied. Everything she thought of saying felt wrong.

“I just want you to be happy and do the things you love.”

After racking her brain, that was the only sentence she could manage.