Scumbag Alpha’s Pheromones Are Toxic - Chapter 25

The rain outside grew even heavier.

It was so torrential that it blurred the world; the lush green mountains were smeared into large blocks of color by the curtain of water, looking like an oil painting where the pigments had failed to blend.

Ji Yao clutched her hot water bottle, staring out the window with a heavy heart. Suddenly, a thunderous boom echoed from nearby—the mountainside behind the Mount Kui Orphanage had begun to collapse.

“Are you afraid of dying?” young Qin Zishu asked. She leaned against the doorframe, idly playing with her figurine while watching Ji Yao. “Things don’t look too good out there.”

“I’m not afraid,” Ji Yao replied.

Despite being a superstar with unimaginable wealth and accolades, she didn’t harbor a shred of fear toward death.

“What about you?” Ji Yao looked at the girl’s calm demeanor, thinking that she was a child after all, able to make jokes in such a dire situation. “Are you afraid to die?”

Am I afraid? It was a question young Qin Zishu had considered more than once. The answer was naturally no.

“As long as it doesn’t hurt too much, I’ve never been afraid,” Qin Zishu said. She figured that living was just getting by anyway; if the heavens wanted to take her, she wouldn’t struggle. She’d just go with the flow.

But you, are you willing to leave behind everything you have?

Noticing her gaze, Ji Yao gave a faint smile. “I don’t mind either. If I really die here, it’ll shock the whole nation. Reporters and news media will dig into every detail. If that happens, the children here will definitely have their futures secured. They’ll all get good families and places to go.”

Qin Zishu was stunned by this answer. She stopped what she was doing and stared blankly at Ji Yao.

This person, is truly different from other adults.

After a moment of silence, Qin Zishu spoke as if to herself. “I used to hear the village elders tell stories. They said that when disasters like these—storms, floods, landslides take you away, it isn’t too painful. With a landslide, you just go to sleep and pass away without knowing. With a flood, you lose consciousness quickly once you’re swept away. And if you’re lucky enough to hit a rock or something, you leave even faster.”

Ji Yao replied with a soft smile, “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“There are a thousand ways to die in this world, and most are more painful than living,” Qin Zishu continued her “storytelling.” “Like Auntie Wang from the next village. She tried to hang herself but was rescued halfway through. After that, she told everyone she met: ‘Whatever you do, don’t choose hanging. It’s worse than being alive.'”

Ji Yao opened her mouth but found nothing to say.

“The logic is the same across the board,” Qin Zishu added. “I won’t bore you with the other methods.”

The rain showed no signs of letting up, and the water levels continued to rise. Inside the room, an adult and a child discussed the nuances of death, creating a strangely surreal atmosphere.

“Do you regret it?” Qin Zishu asked again. “Do you regret coming here?”

Ji Yao looked up. “I don’t. If I hadn’t come, there’s no guarantee all the children here would be rescued.”

Qin Zishu laughed. “Such confidence!”

“If I am here,” Ji Yao closed her eyes before opening them with newfound clarity. “They will find a way to save me no matter what. As long as the rescue teams come fast enough, the casualties at Mount Kui can be greatly reduced.”

Her value remained; those people would never let her die here. As a pivotal figure, even if she were to be discarded as a pawn in the future, it wouldn’t be now.

Qin Zishu nodded. “Your presence here today may be your misfortune, but it is the honor of all of us.”

“When fortune and misfortune cancel each other out, we’ll end up safe and sound, won’t we?” Ji Yao winked at her. “Believe me, we’re both going to survive this.”

Qin Zishu wasn’t prone to optimism, and her face was written with doubt. But seeing the weakened Ji Yao, she changed her tune: “I believe you.”

I believe you will be safe. As for me, that’s less certain.

The world outside began to grow noisy. People were wading through the water toward them—it was the orphanage staff. They lived on lower ground and were forced to evacuate to higher areas as the water rose.

Qin Zishu watched them through the window. When she first saw their silhouettes, the water was at their shins. By the time they reached the building, it was above their knees.

Ji Yao opened the door, and the group crowded inside.

“It’s a flash flood!” one supervisor shouted. “The orphanage is in a terrible location. In a situation like this, we’re the first to get hit.”

Ji Yao already knew this. On her first day of inspection, experts had told her the location was remote and dangerous and that they needed to relocate immediately. The process involved a lot of red tape, and the move was supposed to start in two weeks. Who could have known disaster would strike now?

Everyone looked miserable—the staff were worried, and Ji Yao was in physical agony. Her period cramps were especially brutal on the first day. The pain made it impossible for her to stand up straight; she desperately wanted to find a warm place to curl up.

But that was impossible. The local leaders of Mount Kui had gone down the mountain for a meeting today, and she hadn’t notified them of her arrival. Her team hadn’t made it up the mountain in time. For now, she was the only one there with the authority to lead.

“Gather all the children. Don’t let anyone wander off,” Ji Yao said, her lips pale as she forced herself to stand steady. “Wait patiently for rescue. Help is coming soon.”

Fortunately, there weren’t many children—less than fifty in total. With Ji Yao there, the panic was quickly quelled. Everyone looked at her with eyes full of “hope.” Because she was a superstar, her team would be doing everything in their power to call for help. As long as she was there, rescue would arrive as fast as humanly possible.

Qin Zishu replaced the water in Ji Yao’s hot water bottle with fresh, boiling water.

“Thank you,” Ji Yao smiled, reaching out to pinch her cheek. This time, Qin Zishu didn’t dodge. Instead, she reached up and held Ji Yao’s fingers.

Her fingers were slender and cold, without a single callus—the texture of her skin was incredibly delicate. Qin Zishu had never touched such “noble” hands before and was momentarily dazed.

Ji Yao was also surprised, staring silently at the child. She naturally interpreted this as “fear.” Her heart softened, and she tightened her grip on the girl’s hand.

They didn’t let go, even when the room flooded and they were forced to climb to the upper floors. Qin Zishu brought nothing with her; she only kept the small figurine in her pocket.

By the time the rain slowed slightly, they had been forced onto the roof. Fortunately, a small rescue boat arrived then.

“Let the children go first,” Ji Yao said with forced cheer, helping the kids onto the boat. “The rain is letting up anyway. We adults can wait a bit longer.”

As she spoke, she realized that several of the orphanage supervisors had already scrambled onto the boat.

Ji Yao: “…”

A few children on the boat started crying. The supervisors forced a fake smile. “The kids aren’t behaving; we need to be there to manage them.”

Ji Yao said nothing. They were already on the boat; she couldn’t exactly drag them off. She squeezed the water from her hair and continued counting the children to assist the rescue.

“Qin Zishu!” In the chaos, Ji Yao realized the girl hadn’t boarded yet. She rushed over, startled. “I told you to—”

“It’s fine,” Qin Zishu stood in the rain. “I’ll wait and go with you.”

“You don’t need to wait, you silly child,” Ji Yao patted her head and whispered, “Go now. The rain might pick up again. If it does, we don’t know when the next rescue boat will arrive.”

Qin Zishu hadn’t considered that. She stared blankly at Ji Yao.

Ji Yao whispered, “Just do it for me for my own peace of mind. Go first, okay?”

For your peace of mind.

Why don’t you use that concern for yourself?

This “favoritism” showed how close they were, but Qin Zishu still wouldn’t accept it. Because Ji Yao was here, she didn’t want to go anywhere unless she saw the woman leave first.

“No,” Qin Zishu said. “You go first, or I stay with you.”

Ji Yao couldn’t win the argument, so she had to let the girl stay for now, all while praying the rain wouldn’t worsen.

Ten minutes later, the downpour returned in full force. Rescue operations were suspended.

Ji Yao: “…”

I shouldn’t have prayed.

The rain didn’t just pick up; it refused to stop. They were now on the highest roof of the orphanage with nowhere else to go. Rescue boats still tried to reach them, but the floodwaters threw them off course. The few boats that made it could only take a handful of children at a time.

Ji Yao was in so much pain she could hardly speak. Finally, without a word, she scooped up Qin Zishu, determined to shove the girl onto the next boat.

“It’s almost at capacity,” someone on the boat said, looking at Ji Yao. “Are you feeling unwell? You should leave first; the next boat will be here any minute.”

Ji Yao looked up and realized this wasn’t an official rescue team—it was a private boat sent by her own people. If that were the case, the next boat might not be “any minute.” Official rescuers would consider the risks and the rain, but her people were different. They would trade their lives to get her off that mountain.

Ji Yao sighed. “Let the child go first.”

If she left today, the children left behind would almost certainly die.

“Go!” Ji Yao turned away, refusing to look at them. “Tell them I’m waiting right here. I won’t leave until every child is safe.”

After several rounds of rescue, the only ones left on the roof were Ji Yao and Qin Zishu.

Qin Zishu could have left, but the final boat could only manage one more child. She refused the spot, citing the danger of overcapacity, and said she would wait for the next trip.

But the “next trip” was a mystery. Because Ji Yao was still on the roof, the rescue teams were playing with their lives to reach her.

But the rain grew even more violent.

Water began to swirl around their feet. They were forced to move toward the mountain slopes. They weren’t unafraid of a sudden landslide, but if they stayed put, the flood would sweep them away. Entering the main torrent meant certain death; they had to gamble on the mountain. With luck, they could cling to a tree and hold out.

This time, the heavens didn’t close all doors. Qin Zishu led Ji Yao to an ancient tree that grew horizontally out of the cliff face—a solitary, unique giant.

Seeing Ji Yao’s face turn ghost-white as she drifted toward unconsciousness, Qin Zishu desperately tried to keep her talking. “Do you know why this tree grows like this?”

“Why?” Ji Yao managed.

“It grew this way and wasn’t chopped down.” Qin Zishu gritted her teeth, spinning a lie, “just to wait for us today. Why else would it grow sideways if not to give us a place to sit and take refuge?”

Ji Yao was amused despite herself and sat with her on the overhanging trunk.

Qin Zishu watched the cliff anxiously. If the soil became too saturated and turned to mush, the ancient tree would uproot and plummet into the water. They were betting their lives against the sky.

Time was precious, but the rain showed no sign of stopping. For a long interval, no rescue boats could break through the chaos to reach them.

Seeing Ji Yao’s consciousness fading again, Qin Zishu gripped her shoulders. “Wake up! Don’t sleep! Just hold on a little longer!”

The sudden movement jolted her pocket. The small figurine Ji Yao had given her slipped out and vanished into the floodwaters below.

Qin Zishu stared blankly at the dark water.

When Ji Yao drifted back to clarity, this was the scene she saw: Qin Zishu had gone completely expressionless. Her soul seemed to have vanished along with the item she had just lost. She stared into the depths, her eyes devoid of hope.

It was impossible not to suspect that her earlier jokes were her true thoughts.

—I’m not afraid.

—Living is just getting by.

—If the heavens want me, I won’t struggle; I’ll just go with the flow.

—Floods don’t hurt when they take you.

This sight terrified Ji Yao into full alertness.

“Don’t look down!” She tremblingly cupped Qin Zishu’s head. “Look at me. Look at me, okay?”

The girl, whose spirit seemed to have departed, instinctively followed the command. Qin Zishu raised her numb eyes and locked onto Ji Yao’s gaze.

She really is beautiful, she thought.