The Fallen Film Queen’s Possessive Alpha - Chapter 28

Zhou Qiwei’s home bore a striking resemblance to her office at the research institute, though with an even softer, nearly edge-free aesthetic. It was hard to imagine, even the entryway cabinets had rounded corners, and every visible surface followed the same design.

The only real differences were the abundance of personal items scattered throughout: a hippopotamus-shaped stool in the entryway, a Shiba Inu figurine on the shoe rack, a bear-shaped backpack hanging from the coat rack, framed photos on the living room wall, and medals displayed on the bookshelf.

Zhou Qiwei had actually won medals!

Though surprised, Song Haoyin’s attention was immediately stolen by the photo beside the medals Zhou Qiwei in a naval dress uniform, receiving an award. The short-haired girl, no older than twenty, wore a white naval uniform with a sword at her waist. Song wasn’t well-versed in military ranks, but the uniform and sword suggested Zhou had been an officer.

Could someone that young really be an officer?

Under current laws and customs, Alphas were obligated to serve in the military, though most only enlisted as soldiers for one or two years. Officers, on the other hand, were career soldiers. Song didn’t know much about it, and not all Alphas fulfilled their obligations—there were always ways to dodge the draft.

Take Zuo Xingyu, for example. The young master had avoided service back then by citing reasons like studying abroad and mental health issues. Ironically, he’d ended up in prison instead.

“Would you like fish for dinner? With a side of kale salad,” Zhou Qiwei called from the kitchen, only to notice Song staring at the photo. She flushed slightly. “That picture looks pretty silly.”

Song tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled. “Not at all. It’s adorable.”

“Oh, uh thanks.” Zhou ducked back into the kitchen, then abruptly popped her head out again. “Feel free to look around. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Song continued examining the photos Zhou receiving her medal, her doctoral degree, and one from a fundraising gala for Rubik’s Industries. The twenty-year-old Zhou and the present-day Zhou seemed both drastically different and yet unchanged upon closer inspection.

The living room was sparse, dominated only by an oversized TV and a coffee table on the carpet. There wasn’t even a sofa. did she just sit on the floor to watch TV? Song took a few steps forward and spotted a familiar-looking drink bottle on the table.

The result of Zhou’s “look around” invitation was Song wandering straight into the kitchen. The high-caliber actress lingered in the doorway, watching Zhou cook, then out of curiosity sidled up beside her to peer into the frying pan. The fish sizzled, its sweet aroma mingling with rosemary and a hint of lemon, filling the air.

On the cutting board, kale had been sliced into fine threads, and the dressing was already prepared its tangy, spicy scent making her mouth water.

“You’re really good at this,” Song said sincerely. “I’m impressed. Even your cooking is amazing. I guess geniuses excel at everything!”

“Not really,” Zhou muttered, too flustered to turn around under the weight of that gaze. “Cooking isn’t hard. It’s not much different from running experiments.”

“But I could never get the hang of it. All I can manage is boiling water for instant noodles.”

“You’re too busy, and besides, cooking isn’t something you absolutely must learn. As long as you can boil water, you can eat anything once it’s cooked.”

Light laughter came from behind, growing closer along with a familiar fragrance, finally stopping by Zhou Qiwei’s ear: “How considerate.”

Zhou Qiwei felt flustered. Song Haoyin was acting completely different tonight. did she know about the surprise she’d prepared?

No, the auction house wouldn’t have leaked it. But usually, even when they ended up in bed together, Song Haoyin was mostly gentle, occasionally a little mischievous, but never this blatantly seductive.

Facing such teasing for the first time in her life, President Zhou panicked. How could she appear confident rather than awkward and timid? In their past interactions, she’d always seemed in control a high-quality genius who never faltered except during her sensitive periods.

If she seemed inexperienced now, blushing at the slightest provocation, wouldn’t she be looked down upon?

She definitely would!

So what should she do? Zhou Qiwei’s eyes remained fixed on the frying pan while her mind wandered far away, completely failing to notice the person behind her drawing closer until suddenly her hand was grasped.

“The fish is burning!”

Fortunately, Song Haoyin acted quickly. Zhou Qiwei turned off the heat immediately, saving them from eating charcoal. With an embarrassed smile from Zhou and suppressed laughter from Song, the latter left the kitchen. When Zhou carried the dishes to the dining room, she saw Song fiddling with a bottle at the table and her vision darkened as she finally understood why Miss Song had dared to tease her so boldly.

Oh no, her little secret was exposed!

The bottle Song was holding was the same small one from the coffee table earlier, one Zhou recognized instantly. It was the elderflower tonic she’d drunk at Song’s place before. Song wasn’t about to let her off the hook either, swaying the bottle between slender fingers, shaking Zhou’s composure with every movement.

“I was starting to wonder if my pheromones had lost their charm. Ah well, I’d have to accept it and remain a cooperative partner who knows her place.” Song stroked the bottle, her beautiful eyes sparkling with amusement, making Zhou wish she could vanish on the spot. “Who would’ve thought someone was secretly drinking tonic at home instead of just saying what they wanted?”

It’s not like that, I didn’t Zhou wanted to defend herself, but in the blink of an eye, Song was already standing before her. Taking the tray to set it on the table, she pressed Zhou into a chair, turning the tables completely: “Elderflower tonic is a supplement, not something to drink daily. If you like the elderflower scent so much, try the juice instead.”

“Of course, there’s another option finding the right pheromones.”

A refreshingly sweet yet slightly bitter scent drifted past. After over a month without it, Zhou inhaled deeply—the tonic couldn’t compare. She’d hoped to use the similarly scented drink to wean herself off craving Song’s pheromones, especially since her disorder had stabilized significantly.

But she’d failed.

The sensations were entirely different. The tonic could only deceive her sense of smell. Only the right pheromones could soothe her nerves, calm her mind, and steady her. The side effect was realizing she was under their control she was the one intoxicated by Song’s pheromones, while Song showed little interest in hers.

“I don’t like this.” Despite her words, Zhou Qiwei seized the opportunity to take deep breaths like a condemned prisoner, desperately trying to retain more of the pheromone scent.

The restaurant was already filled with the aroma of alcohol, prompting Song Haoyin to immediately stop releasing her pheromones. Watching Zhou Qiwei’s stunned expression, she smiled faintly and said, “Let’s eat.”

The meal passed without either of them truly tasting the food. Zhou Qiwei stole glances at Song Haoyin’s expression unsurprisingly, the accomplished actress gave nothing away, leaving no hint of whether she was angry. Song Haoyin, in turn, took the chance to observe Zhou Qiwei, whose emotions were far more transparent, her displeasure and inner conflict written plainly on her face.

Both had achieved success at a young age, but Zhou Qiwei’s accomplishments in her field were unparalleled unprecedented and unmatched to this day. In her world, she bowed to no authority; she was the authority. Though Song Haoyin didn’t know the specifics of her business tactics, she could guess that even as a businesswoman now, Zhou Qiwei still operated with the same blunt, overwhelming force.

If someone held a position like Zhou Qiwei’s in their own professional circle, they truly wouldn’t need to cater to others’ moods or consider their opinions. Displeasure could be openly shown, grievances voiced only others would need to mind their reactions.

“You said earlier that you didn’t like something. What was it?”

Zhou Qiwei set down her chopsticks and looked at Song Haoyin seriously. “I don’t like it when you suddenly release your pheromones. It’s unfair!” You’re not even drawn to mine

“And is it fair to me when you unilaterally cut off contact every time you’re upset?”

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