Scumbag Alpha’s Pheromones Are Toxic - Chapter 6

Ji Yao felt a warmth spreading through her body.

But she was drunk and dazed; her mind felt like a jumble of sticky paste. She couldn’t think for herself and could only let Qin Zishu manipulate her.

Qin Zishu laid her gently on the opulent divan, propping herself up on her arms, so close that the space between them seemed nonexistent.

Finally, she could look at her openly, without pretense.

Qin Zishu was ecstatic, but she wasn’t one to express her emotions directly. All she could do was watch her relentlessly, not letting a single glance fall.

As a child, driven by a certain stubborn competitiveness, she had rarely looked at this person carefully. Only after losing her did she regret it. For ten long years, she had obsessively collected every photo and work of Ji Yao, rewatching every drama countless times.

Ji Yao was so beautiful, how had she not cherished her before?

Qin Zishu stared in infatuation, her thumb lightly brushing across Ji Yao’s delicate brow and eyes. Seeing those round, gentle eyes, she couldn’t resist bowing down to press a kiss upon them.

She knew that although Ji Yao’s eyes were gentle when closed, when she was angry, they carried a formidable aura that no one could approach.

Gentle with a smile, yet commanding with presence.

Once, Ji Yao had played the role of a national advisor. People had remarked that she carried the countenance of a prosperous era: even with minimal makeup, she exuded a flawless, serene beauty; a single glance could soothe like a spring breeze. With heavier makeup, she never appeared garish, only more dignified and grand—like a magnificent peony in full bloom.

Among all the dazzling beauties in the world, most were striking yet indistinguishable, and those slightly unique were merely labeled with overused words like “cool,” “glamorous,” or “sweet” by the media. But Ji Yao, the celebrated actress, was always praised with the word “prosperous.”

Prosperous in name.

Prosperous in spirit.

Prosperous like a golden age.

That was why she was invited to headline major events and festivals. Wherever she appeared, it felt like a grand celebration was taking place. Her presence alone brought an aura of splendor and magnificence.

Young Qin Zishu had once thought it was all hype from endless press releases and disapproved of the idea.

Later, after Ji Yao’s death, as Qin Zishu grew older, she began to understand the source of her unparalleled aura.

From birth to death, Ji Yao had given selflessly, funding and participating in countless charitable projects. Outside of filming or attending events, she was always on the road of philanthropy.

She never cared to save money for herself. She worked tirelessly, even adopting young Qin Zishu to raise her and in the end, she was murdered, dying far too young.

Ji Yao had died blindly, and even upon rebirth, showed no interest in pursuing justice.

But Qin Zishu did.

She combed through every trace of Ji Yao’s existence. The moment she discovered the truth, she almost bit down on her teeth in fury, wishing to devour those monsters alive.

To avenge her, she walked the path she had once despised—becoming a celebrity herself.

Only by walking Ji Yao’s former path could she get close to her enemies and use every means to exact revenge.

She lived daily in regret and hatred. If she could, Qin Zishu would have wished to the heavens to return Ji Yao to her—or to mercilessly punish those responsible.

Perhaps her wish was so intense that, on the Double Ninth Festival at the age of twenty-four, Qin Zishu first encountered the reborn Ji Yao.

At their first reunion, she revealed the bloody truth to Ji Yao, hoping to take her in and live together.

Ji Yao had lightly said “okay” but then refused.

She explained that when rich, she could help the world; when poor, she could live quietly and look after herself. “You’ve grown up, and you’re capable—go live the life you want.”

As for the truth, dead is dead. It didn’t matter anymore.

Qin Zishu nearly lost her mind a second time. Ten years of sorrow and regret could not be undone; she could only watch helplessly as Ji Yao disappeared into the crowd and five years later, returned to dust.

Later, Qin Zishu realized she was trapped in a cycle. Sadly, she had started over the year Ji Yao died; fortunately, she still had time to make amends.

At their second reunion, Qin Zishu hid the truth, bringing Ji Yao close and hoping for a quiet, peaceful life together. But Ji Yao still wanted to leave.

Qin Zishu, with tears in her eyes, demanded to know why. The other woman replied calmly, “I have no obligation to stay by your side forever. Taking you in and raising you was already a complete ending. Don’t you have a life of your own?”

This person’s kindness, excessive to the point of sharp coldness, revealed to Qin Zishu her own misjudgment of her place in Ji Yao’s heart.

Ultimately, being raised was only a responsibility Ji Yao voluntarily shouldered. Once that burden was lifted, she would leave.

Over countless cycles, Qin Zishu could neither change her rebellious past self nor keep the reborn Ji Yao. She endured this pain and torment, day after day.

After untold repetitions, she finally lost her mind.

During one reborn encounter, she brought Ji Yao home.

Watching Ji Yao revel in the joy of reunion, Qin Zishu felt a grim thought—soon, Ji Yao would lose interest and leave again.

That night, she drank, saying not a word.

The next morning, beneath her stiletto heels were discarded condom wrappers, torn roughly along the serrated edges, evidence of countless uses.

Her hands trembled as she helped Ji Yao up, brushing aside the hair sticking to her shoulders, only to see cruel, disordered marks.

Qin Zishu turned her head away. She didn’t know how things had come to this point. She only knew she was both angry and resentful, her hatred and regret accumulated over ten years, impossible to release lightly, so she vented it like revenge.

She did inhuman things. From then on, every cycle could never return to the way it was.

Qin Zishu repeatedly tested her heart, whether through coercion or persuasion, but always failed. She seemed suspended, tied to Ji Yao alone; if she couldn’t unravel this puzzle, nothing could be solved.

Love couldn’t do it. Hate, she couldn’t let go.

Left with no other option, Qin Zishu tried letting Ji Yao come to her of her own will.

She had always loved responsibility, hadn’t she? Let her watch, then, as the girl she raised walked step by step toward destruction. Come or not, stop her or not?

It worked.

Ji Yao came—voluntarily signing a long-term agreement. She still needed Qin Zishu’s care.

Through wandering, suffering, and countless painful memories, Qin Zishu finally awaited her savior.

And the savior was still sleeping soundly.

Qin Zishu felt, at that moment, the happiest she had ever been. Ji Yao would neither condemn nor ignore her.

The one she loved most lay quietly on the divan, as if allowing her to hoard and cherish forever.

Forever.

Qin Zishu’s tongue traced her teeth, savoring the word greedily.

Forever—how beautiful it was.