Scumbag Alpha’s Pheromones Are Toxic - Chapter 18

In that split second, as if guided by premonition, Qin Zishu ripped off her mask and met the kiss with a smile.

But the moment Ji Yao’s lips touched hers, the system’s voice suddenly rang out: “I’m sorry, I made a mistake.”

Ji Yao: ???

I’ve already kissed her, and now you’re telling me you made a mistake?

[System: My apologies. I just noticed that Task No. 5 doesn’t actually have a time limit for completion. When the task was issued, “Duration: Five Minutes” referred to the length of the kiss itself, not a countdown to do it.]

Ji Yao: “…”

A five-minute kiss? Are you serious?

The system brazenly defended itself: [You can’t put all the blame on me. You didn’t notice it either, did you?]

Ji Yao: ???

Oh, so now it’s my fault?

“You, how could you? You two.”

Jiang Jiaran was covering her mouth, her words failing her. She was shocked beyond the capacity for speech.

Ji Yao felt the strength drain from her body. She leaned against the rockery, too exhausted to speak.

Having secured her “treat,” Qin Zishu gleefully placed the sunglasses back onto a blushing Ji Yao to hide her face. She turned to Jiang Jiaran with a cool expression. “What about us? Isn’t this perfectly normal?”

Normal, my foot! Jiang Jiaran wanted to scream. She stood frozen, her mind a blank slate for a moment before her eyes began to brim with tears. Her current state of mind was akin to watching the goddess she worshipped being dragged off her pedestal by a beggar, only to see the goddess kiss the beggar back.

“Sister, why would you do this?” Jiang Jiaran demanded.

Ji Yao averted her eyes and played dead. I didn’t want to either! But there’s a broken system at home causing chaos!

“Qin Zishu is the child you raised!” Jiang Jiaran cried. “Doing this, don’t you feel any psychological burden at all?”

“Stop,” Ji Yao muttered.

Please, stop. She felt like she was about to explode.

Unfortunately, Jiang Jiaran possessed zero empathy for Ji Yao’s predicament. She found the situation utterly absurd. She had assumed they were simply close friends reuniting; she never imagined they were in a “lip-to-lip, tooth-to-tooth” kind of relationship.

Her worldview lay shattered in pieces on the ground.

What had she even been fighting Qin Zishu for? She had been competing for affection, but in Qin Zishu’s world, “affection” had long since evolved into “obsession.”

Yet, instead of leaving, Jiang Jiaran took a step forward. she began to observe the Ji Yao leaning against the rockery with terrifying intensity, trying to understand how such a ridiculous dynamic could have formed.

Ji Yao sighed. “Jiaran, I’ve been dead for ten years. You’ve made something of yourself now; there’s no need to obsess over people or things from the past that you couldn’t have. Having me around might feel like a bonus, but my absence won’t stop you from living a good life. Let go of the past. Just pretend I never came back to life.”

“No.” Jiang Jiaran tilted her head. “Sister, I still want to know how did the two of you develop into this?”

Silence fell over the small group.

Ji Yao removed the sunglasses Qin Zishu had placed on her. Her eyes, revealed once more, were shimmering like water, carrying an indescribable warmth.

Jiang Jiaran was entranced. As her perspective shifted to view Ji Yao through Qin Zishu’s lens, she began to see things she hadn’t noticed before.

Her “Sister”—the legendary Best Actress who had stayed at the top of the charts for years was indeed beautiful enough to make a sober person drunk. Her features were perfectly proportioned, her eyes the height of gentleness. No one could look at that face and feel a shred of rejection. She looked like a statue of a merciful goddess descended to earth; everyone wanted to love her, be near her, and listen to her soft, melodic voice.

As Jiang Jiaran’s gaze drifted down, she was struck by the sharp, heroic line of Ji Yao’s nose. The lower half of Ji Yao’s face stood in stark contrast to her eyes—it carried the crisp, imposing air of a swordswoman or an immortal, commanding both awe and respect.

How could one person embody both extreme tenderness and sharp intensity? The collision of these two traits birthed an entirely unique aura.

A sudden impulse surged in Jiang Jiaran’s mind—She could do it, too!

Just as Qin Zishu had years ago, Jiang Jiaran was truly seeing Ji Yao’s beauty for the first time. Ji Yao had brought light to the mountains; they were both children bathed in that light. Originally, there was only worship and reverence. But after looking up for so long, and then resting before looking up again, the nature of the emotion had changed.

In the face of a pure deity, who hasn’t harbored a few unspeakable thoughts?

A death had brutally shattered the chase and the fantasy; a rebirth had turned the unreachable into a new possibility. What a perfect opportunity. They were now similar in age, the power dynamic had shifted, and she could actually reach out and hold Ji Yao’s hand.

Maybe, it’s not impossible.

Jiang Jiaran’s throat moved slightly as a new ambition took root.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Ji Yao coughed, attempting to explain. “Qin Zishu is a child I brought up; I have to be responsible for her. She isn’t in a good state right now, and I’m worried. As long as it makes her happy, I can make some concessions.”

Jiang Jiaran caught the keyword. “So, it’s only out of ‘responsibility’? Sister, you don’t actually like her?”

Qin Zishu’s eyes darkened. She knit her brows and looked at Ji Yao—this was her greatest fear, and also her understanding of Ji Yao’s true nature.

The truth was too cruel, the reality too piercing, so Ji Yao remained silent.

Jiang Jiaran didn’t need a verbal answer; she had guessed as much. She turned to mock Qin Zishu: “How pathetic. You can only keep her by your side through these shameless, pestering tactics.”

Yes.

That is the truth.

Qin Zishu lowered her gaze. She had gone through countless “loops,” yet she could never truly keep Ji Yao. Perhaps it was because she was too “pathetic.” If Jiang Jiaran were in her place, perhaps things wouldn’t be this way.

Ji Yao had always liked “good girls” like Jiang Jiaran. Qin Zishu’s presence was the anomaly. If Jiang Jiaran were the one trying to keep Ji Yao, she might have succeeded on the very first try.

“You’re right,” Qin Zishu said with a bleak smile, admitting it freely. “As long as she’s willing to stay, I don’t care how unscrupulous I have to be.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Ji Yao interjected.

Qin Zishu stood silently by her side, saying nothing more.

Ji Yao felt a growing sense of worry. Qin Zishu was too easily shackled by her own emotions. A few wrong words could get stuck in her head, leading to a spiral of self-blame. This was not good for her condition at all.

Qin Zishu was no longer the wild girl who climbed walls and set fires; she was full of hidden troubles that she couldn’t escape. Her attempts to hide them only made them more obvious. Standing next to her, Ji Yao felt as though the girl were encased in a low-saturation, black-and-white filter, draining the life from the air around her. The sadness was as thick as incense smoke, impossible to dispel.

It was as if they were back at the banquet where Ji Yao had first seen her again—Qin Zishu standing in the middle of a glitzy hall, cold and devoid of life.

“You look like you could be on the cover of a top-tier magazine right now,” Ji Yao teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You don’t even need a filter; you just stand there and radiate ‘gloomy atmosphere.'”

“Are you saying,” Qin Zishu replied, “that I can’t stand the light of day?”

Ji Yao: “…”

“Why don’t you major in being a contrarian?”

Hold it in. Hold it in. Getting angry is a bad habit.

Ji Yao brainwashed herself into patience while putting on her “smiling mask.” “Let’s just go home first, okay? Don’t overthink things.”

Jiang Jiaran had been enjoying the show from the sidelines, nearly ready to clap. Seeing the atmosphere sour between the other two, she couldn’t help but fan the flames. “Qin Zishu, how can you be so glass-hearted? I can’t believe you’re giving Sister the cold shoulder. If it were me, I’d never have the heart to—”

“If it were you, if it were you.” Qin Zishu turned to face her, her eyes brimming with agony and struggle. “I wish you could experience my misery. But the one being punished is me, not you.”

Startled by the outburst, Jiang Jiaran looked confused. “What ‘punished’?”

It was the cycle of the curse; the accumulation of suffering.

Qin Zishu thought to herself: I’ve endured so much pain already. What’s wrong with wanting a little treat?

“Jiang Jiaran, that’s enough.” Ji Yao frowned, cutting her off before reaching out to take Qin Zishu’s hand. “It’s okay. You can act however you want. I’m not that fragile; it would be a miracle if you actually managed to annoy me into a collapse.”

“Qin Zishu is twenty-four! She’s not a little girl anymore,” Jiang Jiaran called out from behind them. “Sister, you shouldn’t spoil her like this. Why should a grown woman—”

“I said, can you please stop talking?” Ji Yao’s voice turned sharp, her command forcing Jiang Jiaran into silence. She held Qin Zishu’s arm and turned her head to look back at Jiang Jiaran. “Provoking an Alpha who is on the verge of losing control, do you really think your own pheromones are that formidable?”

Suddenly being the target of Ji Yao’s ire, Jiang Jiaran froze. “…”

When Ji Yao’s presence was in full force, it was terrifying—a power like a sheer, unscalable cliff. Even though she hadn’t said anything particularly aggressive, a chill ran down Jiang Jiaran’s spine, leaving her stunned where she stood.

“She is an S-rank Alpha. If you don’t have her level of power, don’t come here looking for a fight,” Ji Yao warned her. “The fact that Qin Zishu only bickers with you verbally shows she doesn’t truly see you as a rival. If two Alphas truly clashed, a pheromone showdown would be unavoidable.”

Arguing was one thing, but that kind of fight was entirely different.

Jiang Jiaran finally realized that in front of Qin Zishu, she would always be a “clown” on a completely different level. The other woman was an Alpha; if pushed too far, she could use her pheromones to force a submission.

Ji Yao didn’t realize that Jiang Jiaran was an Omega; she assumed they were both Alphas who could withstand a pheromone collision. But Jiang Jiaran knew better. If Qin Zishu was pushed to the limit, she wouldn’t need to waste words.

She could simply release her pheromones. It wouldn’t even be called a “suppression” or a “clash”—it would be a slaughter.

The moment Qin Zishu’s toxic pheromones were unleashed, Jiang Jiaran’s life as an Omega would be over.

A complex mix of emotions flooded Jiang Jiaran’s heart as she realized Qin Zishu had actually been showing her “generosity” all this time. Her legs felt weak. Like a survivor of a catastrophe, she watched the two of them walk away together.