Scumbag Alpha’s Pheromones Are Toxic - Chapter 17

“You’ve suffered these past few years,” Ji Yao said, her heart softening as she lightly brushed her fingers against Qin Zishu’s palm. “Don’t be afraid. Haven’t I come back to you now?”

“The results should be ready in about three hours,” a doctor suddenly appeared, cutting their conversation short. “If you two are in a hurry, we can send the report directly to your phones the moment they are out.”

Ji Yao turned to Qin Zishu. “Should we wait?”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Qin Zishu replied.

“Aren’t you busy today?”

“Even if I am, I’m clearing my schedule.”

Ji Yao, a workaholic in her past life, was momentarily stunned by Qin Zishu’s reckless statement. But on second thought, this was exactly the kind of thing Qin Zishu would do. It wasn’t that surprising.

“Since we’ll get the results anyway, let’s go downstairs for a walk and get some sun.”

The weather was beautiful, and Ji Yao was in a good mood. She led Qin Zishu toward the inpatient department at the back of the hospital, where there was a large garden perfect for a stroll.

Qin Zishu immediately donned a mask and sunglasses, bundling herself up until she was completely unrecognizable.

Ji Yao, who had invited her out specifically to soak up the sun: “…”

Fine.

They hadn’t walked far when they spotted Jiang Jiaran’s silhouette in the distance.

Since the girl was in sight, Ji Yao casually asked, “Jiang Jiaran isn’t as famous as you, is she?”

“Not even close,” Qin Zishu said. “She’s not as popular, and she doesn’t get nearly as much hate as I do. She’s just a run-of-the-mill starlet. Not long ago, she tried to compete with me for a role in a film, but she failed.”

Ji Yao nodded. “I see. Who was the director? I wonder if I still know them.”

“Huo Qi.”

“Oh, Huo Qi.” Ji Yao mused. An old friend. If Huo Qi wanted Qin Zishu for a role, not even the gods themselves could win a competition against her.

“You certainly don’t lack confidence,” Ji Yao teased. “But if she managed to annoy you that much, she can’t be some nameless nobody. At the very least, she must be right on your heels in terms of rank.”

Ji Yao hit the nail on the head.

However, Qin Zishu looked down on Jiang Jiaran from the bottom of her heart, so she never took her seriously. A rival? Non-existent.

“I wasn’t annoyed by her,” Qin Zishu muttered.

“Stubborn.”

“By the way,” Ji Yao continued, “I noticed that girl treats me quite differently, but I can’t place who she is. Being dead for ten years makes a lot of people and events go hazy. Do we have some sort of history?”

Qin Zishu thought to herself: If you’ve forgotten, I’m certainly not telling you. If I do, and you feel regretful, you’ll only end up treating her better.

Ji Yao shot her a look. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll find a way to figure it out myself.”

“Alright, alright.” Qin Zishu yielded, unable to resist her. She came clean. “Sister, she came from the same place I did.”

The same hometown. The same orphanage.

Ji Yao was startled. “Huh? Why don’t I remember her?”

“Back when you first started visiting the orphanage with treats for the cats and dogs, she was the very first child you picked up.” Qin Zishu’s voice carried a hint of old resentment. “Jiang Jiaran was always the ‘good girl,’ the one who knew how to please the staff. That’s why they sat her in the very first row, closest to you.”

Ji Yao laughed. “Are you jealous? Let me guess, you weren’t in the front row?”

“I wasn’t even allowed out to see people,” Qin Zishu said helplessly. “I was locked in the ‘dark room’ back then. How could I have met you?”

Later, it was only after Ji Yao performed a headcount and realized a few children were missing that little Qin Zishu was finally released.

“It was the first time I’d ever seen a ‘VIP’ be so meticulous,” Qin Zishu recalled. “The people who came before were just there for show and didn’t care about us. Only you called us each by name. You actually took the time to remember our faces.”

“Oh?” Ji Yao was puzzled. “Since your first impression of me was so good, why were you so difficult when we lived together?”

Qin Zishu remained silent, staring down at the tips of her shoes.

“Could it be,” Ji Yao hit upon an absurd realization. “Kid, were you already in your rebellious phase back then? You were difficult with me because you liked me? What, were you testing me even as a little brat?”

Ji Yao might have forgotten the faces of the other children, but she remembered that awkward period of cohabitation vividly—like how little Qin Zishu would tell her to her face that she hated animals, or how she would swat Ji Yao’s hand away and hide in the furthest corner to avoid her.

“Anyway, she was in the first group of children whose names you memorized,” Qin Zishu said, changing the subject. “You liked her a lot. You even gave her a little gift.”

Ji Yao corrected her, “You were also in the first group of names I memorized.”

“On the blacklist, maybe,” Qin Zishu countered.

“But to this day,” Ji Yao added softly, “your name is the one I remember most clearly. You are the last child to remain in my memory.”

Qin Zishu let out an “oh,” then said in a punchable tone, “But I didn’t get a little gift.”

Ji Yao: “…”

Can we have one normal conversation? If not, can I just hit her?

Qin Zishu acted spoiled, her skin lingering provocatively against the exposed skin of Ji Yao’s wrist. She hinted, “Sister, give me a little treat and I’ll forgive you.”

This was the textbook definition of “give her an inch and she’ll take a mile.” The veins on Ji Yao’s forehead began to throb.

She arched an eyebrow. “What kind of ‘treat’ do you want?”

Whether Qin Zishu failed to hear the warning in her voice or was simply playing dumb, she dared to push further. “Kiss me. How about it?”

Ji Yao hissed through gritted teeth, “In public? What do you think?”

Just as she was raising her hand to give the girl a different kind of “treat”—a smack—the dreaded system suddenly popped up.

[System: Task No. 5—Kiss Qin Zishu. Task Duration: Five Minutes.]

Ji Yao: “…”

Qin Zishu looked at her with a beaming smile. “What’s wrong?”

This was infuriating. Ji Yao began to seriously suspect that this system wasn’t hers at all, but was secretly working for this little brat!

Fortunately, the task gave her a five-minute window. She didn’t have to do it this very second. Ji Yao couldn’t afford to lose face in public. She thought about finding a secluded corner to finish the task, if Jiang Jiaran caught them, she’d never be able to show her face again.

Knowing Jiang Jiaran’s true identity had made Ji Yao regain her sense of propriety. She didn’t dare say the scandalous things she had said in the elevator.

Forget it. I’ll just take her somewhere private.

Ji Yao intentionally steered them away from Jiang Jiaran’s direction, taking a detour. As they walked, she continued the conversation: “But I treated all the children equally back then. Why would this Jiang Jiaran have such special feelings for me?”

Ji Yao couldn’t fathom that kind of sentiment; to her, it just felt absurd.

“Her? She bought into some brainwashing rumor from who-knows-where,” Qin Zishu explained with a shrug. “She thought that when you eventually left, you might take some of the children to the big city with you. So, she tried extra hard to cozy up to you, desperate for you to take her away. She was ambitious, but I just couldn’t stand the sight of her.”

Ji Yao felt helpless. “I never had any such intention back then.”

“Unlike me,” Qin Zishu continued. “I never indulged in those kinds of whimsical fantasies. I spent every day thinking about how to escape that place on my own, not waiting for someone to carry me out.”

Ji Yao asked, “Did you ever consider how you’d survive after escaping? You know child labor is illegal, right?”

“I wasn’t very good at mugging or stealing, and I didn’t have any special talents but if I absolutely had to find a way to make a living,” Qin Zishu recalled seriously, “I probably would have ended up drifting around those places that operate without a license just to get a meal.”

As she listened, Ji Yao felt her blood pressure spike.

She actually put mugging and stealing in the same category as ‘making a living’? Can you even call those career paths? And she has the audacity to analyze whether she’s ‘good’ at them?!

Noticing Ji Yao’s dark expression, Qin Zishu mistook it for concern for her safety and tried to reassure her: “Don’t worry, Sister. I wouldn’t have let anyone scam me. Even in an unlicensed place, I wouldn’t work for free.”

“I’m more worried about you becoming a menace to society,” Ji Yao took a deep breath. “It’s a miracle you didn’t succeed in running away, or things would have been disastrous.”

“Actually,” Qin Zishu looked a bit sheepish. “I almost made it once.”

Ji Yao’s brow twitched. She turned to her. “What?”

“One night, because you were staying over at the orphanage, all the security guards and staff were called away for a meeting. To ensure your safety, almost all the supervisors were gathered near your quarters.” Qin Zishu gave a shy smile.

“I planned to use the chaos of that night to make my break for it.”

Excellent. Her blood pressure was climbing again.

Ji Yao steadied herself for a moment before asking, “And why didn’t you succeed?”

“I suppose you could call it a twist of fate.” Qin Zishu gazed out at the distant artificial lake, her smile fading slightly. “I had just climbed to the top of the wall when I saw you. You were all alone, clutching your stomach and crouching against the courtyard wall.”

Memory flickered in Ji Yao’s mind. By sheer coincidence, her period had started that night. She had been in agonizing pain and had to call her young assistant in the middle of the night to buy painkillers. Who would have thought that a young Qin Zishu had been watching from the top of a wall?

Qin Zishu continued, “Seeing you like that, I thought some villain in the orphanage had poisoned you. My sense of justice flared up. Under the cover of the dark night, I set a massive fire to draw the police and everyone else out.”

Ji Yao: “…”

So that sudden wildfire on the back mountain was your doing, you little brat! No wonder she hadn’t had a moment’s peace that night. Her entire team had been frazzled, busy fighting fires and calling the police, thinking some crazed anti-fan was trying to cause harm. Her manager, who wasn’t even on-site, had called a dozen times in the dead of night just to confirm she was safe.

Ji Yao felt like she needed an oxygen mask. Qin Zishu’s talent for causing trouble was truly extraordinary.

“I did it to protect you,” Qin Zishu mumbled weakly.

“How ‘kind’ of you. ‘Thank you’ so much,” Ji Yao gritted out, desperately suppressing her temper. “So, I suppose I delayed your grand escape.”

Qin Zishu’s voice grew softer, likely sensing her conscience prickling. “It didn’t delay me. It’s okay. Naturally, I forgive you, Sister.”

Ji Yao looked around and realized they had reached a deserted area. She checked the five-minute countdown and immediately decided to raise her hand and give this girl the thrashing she deserved.

The “stick” first, then the “sweet.” She’d save the treat for the final few seconds. Until then, she had to vent the frustration that was making her head throb.

The system’s notification rang out as expected:

[15, 14, 13, 12.]

Qin Zishu dodged and weaved as she was playfully swatted, her sunglasses nearly falling off.

[9, 8, 7.]

Ji Yao grew tired from the exertion and leaned against a rockery, panting for breath.

[5, 4.]

Sensing that Ji Yao was done hitting her, Qin Zishu leaned back in, clinging to her side.

“Sister? What are you two doing here?”

As luck would have it, Jiang Jiaran had followed them to this secluded spot.

Hearing the voice, Ji Yao’s scalp went tight. “…”

[System: Final countdown—3 seconds! (Please complete the kiss task immediately!!!) 3, 2.]

Ji Yao grabbed Qin Zishu. “Come here!”

Qin Zishu lost her balance, her hand reaching out frantically to steady herself against the rockery.

Under Jiang Jiaran’s stunned gaze, Ji Yao hooked her arm around Qin Zishu, placed her palm behind the girl’s neck, and pulled her close.

Tilting her head up, she pressed her lips against hers.