Scumbag Alpha’s Pheromones Are Toxic - Chapter 5

Ji Yao wasn’t much of a drinker, and she had a little quirk: even before the alcohol fully hit, her face would flush red.

In her previous life, she had used this as an excuse to get out of countless forced-drinking situations.

But if she drank in moderation, she actually enjoyed it. That gentle, tipsy haze could blur away a lot of her worries.

So, standing in front of Qin Zishu’s overflowing liquor cabinet, she glanced over it once before decisively heading to the fridge to grab a low-alcohol cocktail.

One with a yogurt flavor, no less.

If Qin Zishu hadn’t insisted on drinking, Ji Yao might have been happier pouring her a cup of warm milk instead.

“Canned milk?” Qin Zishu raised an eyebrow, smiling at the blue-and-white can in Ji Yao’s hand. “You said you wanted alcohol. Milk isn’t really suited for a nightcap.”

“It’s a cocktail,” Ji Yao said, sitting beside her and tossing the drink her way. “Everything in the cabinet is at least thirty-proof. It’s late—let’s skip it tonight.”

Qin Zishu caught the cocktail and was surprised to find it chilled.

As a child, Ji Yao had never let her drink anything cold so late at night!

For a moment, Qin Zishu’s expression blanked. “Cold?”

“Mm. I got it from the fridge,” Ji Yao said, giving her a glance. “I think you can handle something cold tonight.”

Qin Zishu paused, then seemed to realize the double meaning and pursed her lips discreetly.

“Wait a sec.”

She got up to pull the curtains.

Ji Yao held the tab of the cocktail can, and with a sharp ping, the fruity aroma burst out, mixing with the scent of alcohol. She tilted her head away—and at that moment, the system pinged her with a new task.

System: “Mission #3: Inhale Qin Zishu’s pheromones.”

Ji Yao frowned, taking a sip. “What if I can’t smell her pheromones?”

Why she couldn’t detect them, she didn’t know. Maybe her senses hadn’t fully developed after rebirth, or maybe she was just a Beta. These were questions she should have figured out from the start, but the moment she woke in this new life, she’d gone straight to Qin Zishu without checking her own traits.

There was a pause from the system, then in its cold, mechanical voice, it muttered quietly: “You can’t smell them?”

Ji Yao nearly choked on her cocktail.

What kind of system asks back?

“Do I still have to complete the mission?” she asked.

“Try smelling,” it replied.

Ji Yao dragged her voice: “Fine.”

By now, Qin Zishu had returned and gently opened the cocktail. The can nudged Ji Yao’s hand, and they tapped it together lightly.

Rarely calm and at ease, they sat down. Qin Zishu watched her with those careful, fleeting glances—always sneaking a look when Ji Yao took a sip.

After a while, Ji Yao set the drink down and turned to her. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Qin Zishu said.

Ji Yao thought for a moment but couldn’t resist probing further. “Do you think I look like someone you know?”

“Maybe, familiar, I guess.” Qin Zishu avoided meeting her gaze, then withdrew her thoughts and spoke in a distant tone. “But that was someone from my childhood. It’s been years—I’ve long forgotten what she looked like.”

The can in Ji Yao’s hand slowly crumpled.

Qin Zishu continued, “I don’t think you actually look much like her. If you did, I wouldn’t have brought you home.”

“Oh? You didn’t get along?”

Ji Yao almost ground her teeth as she asked. She had spent seven years caring for young Qin Zishu, only to hear a cold, indifferent response: they weren’t close.

And now, in this reborn life, her appearance was nearly identical to her former self, yet Qin Zishu truly didn’t recognize her. She hadn’t been pretending—it was genuine forgetfulness.

Her heart sank completely. She sat on the carpet, clutching the empty can helplessly.

“It’s a strange feeling. I always wanted to push back against her—maybe I was just at that rebellious age, used to sulking and bickering. I never knew how else to just sit down and talk to her properly,” Qin Zishu said, spreading her hands.

“Other than arguing and talking back, I really had no way of facing her.”

Ji Yao realized that whether intentional or not, Qin Zishu always had a way of getting under her skin.

Qin Zishu leaned closer. “Huh? Can you even get tipsy from cocktails?”

“I” Ji Yao hesitated. She almost explained that she just blushed easily after drinking, but remembered that young Qin Zishu knew this about her. If she mentioned it, it could raise suspicions.

If Qin Zishu retained even a few memories, Ji Yao’s identity might be questioned. She had only dared act because she was sure Qin Zishu didn’t remember her. If she knew, Ji Yao would never have taken such liberties.

“You’re clearly drunk, yet you keep fooling yourself.”

Ji Yao vaguely heard Qin Zishu mutter something before standing and leaving.

Soon, Qin Zishu returned, this time carrying a stronger drink.

Ji Yao pushed it away. “I don’t want to.”

“Drink a little. It’ll give you courage—and make things more enjoyable.”

Qin Zishu’s voice brushed against her ear like a witch’s whisper, cold but laced with seduction, compelling her to accept the drink.

Ji Yao asked, “Do we have to do this tonight?”

Soon, Qin Zishu’s second drink was gone, one after another, as if drowning sorrows—or maybe the one needing courage was herself.

Seeing Qin Zishu silent, Ji Yao finished her own drink in quiet solidarity.

Feeling tipsy, Ji Yao joked suddenly, “Do you know what we look like right now?”

Qin Zishu didn’t dare meet her eyes, just kept downing drink after drink.

“We’re like two heartbroken wanderers, full of shattered glass inside, unable to speak our minds, sitting on a park bench in minus-six-degree weather, drinking to forget.” Ji Yao refilled her glass. “Why are we so pathetic?”

A bottle was finally empty, and Qin Zishu allowed herself to get drunk, drinking until she felt capable of anything, then set the glass down with satisfaction.

“Mm.”

“Mm what?” Ji Yao, half-drunk and rambling, nudged her leg lightly and leaned her head on her hand. “Keep drinking.”

They didn’t move; they casually drank in the study, careful not to spill on the papers, leaning against the chaise lounge and sitting on the carpet.

Qin Zishu’s voice softened, tinged with bitter sweetness: “I’m done. I’m done.”

Ji Yao rested her head on the lounge’s edge. “What’s there to be sad about?”

Realizing she truly was the ‘poor wanderer’ Ji Yao had described, Qin Zishu approached, wrapped her arms around Ji Yao’s waist, and lifted her into her embrace. Finally, she held her fully, wholeheartedly.

The ornate bottle toppled to the floor, but Qin Zishu paid no mind. Kneeling on the carpet, she hugged Ji Yao’s waist with all her strength, just as she had when she was first taken from the orphanage.

They stayed like that for a long, long time.