The Scummy Alpha Who Transmigrated Into a Book Was Tricked by the Actress Omega - Chapter 23

“Stay for observation for half an hour to an hour, don’t rush off; you might develop a fever later, just use physical cooling methods. Also, avoid spicy and stimulating foods for a week after the shot, and it’s best not to drink alcohol or tea.”

Yan Xunzhen’s stomach burned with a searing pain as she silently listened to the doctor’s instructions, nodding before attempting to stand up. Just then, she suddenly felt someone’s hand rest on her shoulder again.

Dr. Song smiled at the doctor who had just administered Yan Xunzhen’s tetanus shot and said, “I’ll take it from here. I’ll take her to the differentiation department for another check-up later. Thanks for your hard work.”

“No trouble at all. Thank you, Dr. Song. I’ll go check on other patients now.”

The doctor in front of them hurried away, while Dr. Song twirled a pen between her fingers and stood firmly in front of Yan Xunzhen.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Yan? A few days apart, and you’ve already landed yourself in the hospital getting a tetanus shot, no less?” Dr. Song’s tone was cool, but seeing her friend looking so listless, she couldn’t resist nagging a little. “Tetanus?”

She tucked the pen into her chest pocket. “What happened?”

Both of Yan Xunzhen’s hands had been treated, but with her palms facing upward, the open wounds still revealed what had happened. She didn’t bother hiding it, raising an eyebrow as she replied, “I pulled on some rigging wires at the set and accidentally cut my hands.”

Dr. Song gave her a once-over. “You, Miss Yan? Who would dare ask you to help with rigging wires?”

“…”

“Was it because of Du Zuilan?” Dr. Song sighed, crossing her arms as she shifted from standing to sitting. “I just saw her waiting outside the observation room and thought I was mistaken. Didn’t expect you to be so.”

“Mm,” Yan Xunzhen answered curtly.

“Whatever. I don’t want to meddle in your affairs with her anymore. Just don’t betray your own conscience.” Dr. Song suddenly frowned, recalling the excuse Yan Xunzhen had given the other doctor earlier. “By the way, didn’t you tell me before that you couldn’t? Do you want to come with me for another check-up?”

Yan Xunzhen nearly choked. It wasn’t that she couldn’t she was more than capable, even losing control when she wasn’t fully conscious.

“No need. I feel much better now.”

“Your pheromone scent has completely changed,” Dr. Song pointed at the wounds on her palms. “Remember what I told you before? The person who’s positively affecting your pheromones bring her to the hospital. I’ll run a full check-up for both of you to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

Hadn’t Yu Tutu said it was probably a good thing? At such a busy time, it could wait. No rush.

“It’s fine. Let’s talk about it in a couple of days. Dr. Song, can you just let me rest for now?”

Dr. Song rubbed her temples. “Fine, you won’t die from this.”

The two sat quietly for a while. Yan Xunzhen felt the wildfire-like discomfort in her stomach ease slightly and couldn’t help but exhale in relief, checking the time to see if the half-hour observation period was over.

Just as she looked up, the observation room door swung open with a soft “thud.”

Peeking in was a soft, clean, and lovely girl, her eyes filled with worry. The moment she spotted Yan Xunzhen, her gaze brightened like a kitten spotting a treat, and she tiptoed lightly into the room.

Her slender legs paused for two seconds before being quickly concealed by the white dress, and Yan Xunzhen’s gaze shifted to her fair, delicate face instead.

Du Zuilan seemed a little remorseful, her tone soft and gentle: “Time’s up should we head back to the manor first?”

Yan Xunzhen wasn’t used to looking down at Du Zuilan from this slightly “lofty” angle, so she instinctively leaned forward. Her sleek, raven-black hair cascaded like seaweed over her chest, closing the distance between them. She could now observe the faintly flushed corners of Du Zuilan’s eyes and her soft, delicate brows.

Their breaths nearly mingled, and Yan Xunzhen felt her own grow slightly warmer. She retreated just a fraction and nodded. “Alright. Today, I won’t go to the company.”

Dr. Song snapped out of her daze, finding it utterly surreal that Du Zuilan didn’t mind crouching in front of Yan Xunzhen. She could only manage an awkward laugh.

Worried her friend might have to escort Du Zuilan again, too much trouble she offered helpfully, “Hmm, do you want me to give you a ride? Yan Xunzhen has her own car.”

Du Zuilan blinked, and for some reason, Yan Xunzhen detected a hint of quiet dependence in her gaze her voice small and soft as she smiled, “I… I’m staying with her now.”

“I’ll go back with her later. I’ll take good care of her.”

Dr. Song’s expression nearly shattered on the spot.

The shock in her eyes was almost palpable, silently cursing Yan Xunzhen eight hundred times over.

Yan Xunzhen silently turned her head away.

She really wanted to recite a line for Dr. Song: I should be under the car, not inside it.

Yan Xunzhen was trapped in a bizarre, kaleidoscopic dream.

Not the chaotic, colorful dreams of a scoundrel Alpha, but the nonsensical, unsettling dreams she often had in real life.

In the dream, she seemed shorter, surrounded by towering, eerie trees that stretched endlessly into the darkness. The air was deathly silent as she chased desperately after something indistinct, never stopping.

She felt agony, yet a voice deep inside urged her to keep pursuing.

Since transmigrating into this novel, she had rarely recalled those oppressive dreams. But today, she found herself running again in her sleep only this time, the object of her chase had taken form.

It was a strikingly beautiful little cat proud and lively, its eyes gleaming when it glanced back, licking its paw before vanishing without a sound, too cunning to ever be caught.

Yan Xunzhen ran swiftly in the dream, but the scene shifted like a mirage. The next moment, she was in an endless sea of flowers, slowly closing her eyes beneath the setting sun.

She jolted awake.

Sitting up, she noticed another figure beside the embroidered quilt. Lifting her gaze, she saw Du Zuilan intently reading a script. The sky had darkened, casting a rosy glow over her bedroom.

Reading in such dim light wasn’t good for the eyes.

Yan Xunzhen’s throat felt parched, strands of dark hair sticking to her sweat-dampened cheeks. She didn’t bother brushing them away, only struggling free from the quilt as she reached to turn on the light.

Du Zuilan stopped her hand before it reached the switch. Unlike Yan Xunzhen’s feverish warmth, Du Zuilan’s touch was cool and soothing, making Yan Xunzhen want to nuzzle against it without a care for appearances.

“You’re awake?” Du Zuilan set down the script in her hand, her voice soft and gentle, while her other palm pressed against Yan Xunzhen’s forehead to check her temperature. “Still a bit of a fever. You’ve been asleep for hours. Are you hungry?”

Yan Xunzhen’s movement halted mid-air as she suddenly became aware of the burning heat coursing through her body. Her throat felt as if it had been filled with sand, her voice low and hoarse as she replied, “Not really.”

Du Zuilan tucked Yan Xunzhen’s outstretched hand back under the blanket and asked, “Were you trying to turn on the light just now?”

Yan Xunzhen hesitated for a moment.

What she wanted to say sounded too much like flattery, but it was the truth: “Turn on the light reading in such dim light is bad for your eyes.”

She coughed dryly twice, unable to resist touching her lips, which were already chapped and cracked. A throbbing pain pulsed at her temples, worse than when she had first woken up. The rationality she had mustered to answer Du Zuilan’s question was fading fast, leaving only a blank void in her mind.

At some point, the air had filled with the fragrance of Longjing tea, spreading throughout the bedroom, carrying a bittersweet, damp aroma.

Du Zuilan’s expression was swallowed by the rosy darkness. She froze for two seconds before finally flicking the light switch. After a pause, a faint smile appeared on her lips.

“I talked with Sister Tang Ying today. She said Sister Yu Tu Tu has been very kind to her, but it’s also strange.” Du Zuilan’s fair skin glowed under the gentle lamplight, her voice tender and hushed, more like she was telling Yan Xunzhen a story than asking a question. “Sister Yu Tu Tu completely ignored Tang Ying at first, but later, when Tang Ying was being condemned by everyone, she was the one who stood by her side.”

Du Zuilan chuckled softly. “Isn’t that odd?”

Yan Xunzhen didn’t answer. Instinctively, she furrowed her brows, her voice carrying a rare, almost petulant complaint: “Hot uncomfortable.”

Her hands were still injured, and as she struggled unconsciously under the blanket, she accidentally brushed against something, letting out a small whimper like a puppy. The same person who hadn’t uttered a word when she was cut or when she received injections at the hospital now seemed pitifully adorable.

The nearly crazed look in Du Zuilan’s eyes vanished completely, replaced once more by the gentle, caring demeanor of a delicate flower.

“Doesn’t a tetanus shot usually cause a fever?”

Du Zuilan’s cool palm remained pressed against Yan Xunzhen’s forehead, but after a moment, Yan Xunzhen nuzzled into it. Her beautiful black hair spilled across the bed, a few strands clinging to her cheeks, which Du Zuilan brushed aside with her pale pink fingertips.

Her touch sent a shiver down Yan Xunzhen’s skin.

“But your problem doesn’t seem to be from the tetanus shot,” Du Zuilan murmured, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Yan Xunzhen’s ear, her tone light. “Your pheromones have changed too. You can’t even tolerate a drop of alcohol now.”

“Hmm, what’s going on?”

Du Zuilan’s white dress clung to her slender waist, the fabric draping elegantly as she leaned slightly forward. When her cool body pressed against Yan Xunzhen’s through the thin silk quilt,

Both couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as their unexpected pheromones collided, fitting together like perfectly matched mortise and tenon. The air gradually filled with the aroma of freshly roasted tea leaves mingled with citrus, reminiscent of the lingering base notes of a perfume, long-lasting with hints of “serenity” and “clarity.” These were originally unrelated scents, yet when intertwined, they created an unexpectedly pleasant fragrance.

Du Zuilan reached out and turned off the light.

Looking down at Yan Xunzhen, she smiled faintly.

Then, she presented her slender, delicate neck before Yan Xunzhen.

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