Transmigrated into a Classic Dog-Blood Drama as the Scummy Alpha - Chapter 41

Lately, Shen Xian had been staying late at work more often as her new company began expanding. When Lin Qinghan got off work early, she would pick up their daughter from school. Around 7 p.m., Shen Xian was still tweaking a proposal. It was important work, and the new hires weren’t much help, so she simply told them to clock out on time.

Stretching her neck, Shen Xian got up to move around and grabbed her jacket to head home. Work was endless, but she wasn’t going to repeat her mistakes from her past life—family would always come first.

Just as she opened her office door, a strong scent hit her in the face. Her mind went blank for a few seconds. A faint heat simmered at the back of her neck—her gland reacting instinctively. She immediately realized something was wrong.

An Omega was releasing pheromones.

Looking up, Shen Xian spotted Yuan Zhenzhen inside the office. The young woman, flushed and trembling, was slumped over a desk—clearly in the throes of her heat. But hadn’t Shen Xian already told everyone to go home?

Yuan Zhenzhen glanced at her weakly and said, “President Shen… I’m not feeling well. Can you help me? I forgot my heat was coming.”

Shen Xian’s brows knit tightly. The scent in the air was irritatingly strong, setting her on edge. She loathed how her body could be affected by someone else’s pheromones. With one last look at Yuan Zhenzhen, she decisively locked the door and retreated to her own office. She quickly switched on the exhaust fan and sprayed generous amounts of pheromone blocker until the air was thick with the neutralizing scent. Only then did the heat crawling through her limbs begin to subside.

She hated this. Hated how her body betrayed her control, how others could manipulate her simply through biology.

The timing of Yuan Zhenzhen’s heat was far too convenient. It reminded her of her previous life—how people had schemed to get close to her, some going to absurd lengths. Men and women alike, all relentless.

Shen Xian scoffed. Her company had only just gotten off the ground, and already someone was pulling a stunt like this? She grabbed her phone, dialed emergency services, calmly explained that someone was experiencing an Omega heat, and provided Yuan Zhenzhen’s location. Only after hanging up did she exhale.

Since arriving in this world, she always took her suppressants on schedule and used pheromone-blocking patches. She’d experienced pheromonal influence only a handful of times. The most memorable was when

Lin Qinghan had helped calm her with her scent at the hospital—but that had felt different. Shen Xian hadn’t minded her scent.

Outside, Yuan Zhenzhen apparently wasn’t done yet. The office phone rang. Shen Xian frowned but picked up.

“President Shen… I really don’t feel good. Can you help me?” came the soft, pleading voice.

Shen Xian’s expression darkened. “You’re an Omega, right? And you’re calling an Alpha during your heat to ‘help’ you? What exactly are you trying to do? I told everyone to leave by five. Yuan Zhenzhen, don’t play smart.” She hung up without waiting for a reply and ignored every subsequent call.

About ten minutes later, an ambulance arrived with medical staff. They dealt with the situation efficiently—it wasn’t uncommon. Still, someone needed to handle the paperwork, so one of them knocked on Shen Xian’s door.

She opened it, retrieved Yuan Zhenzhen’s personnel file, called her emergency contact, and passed along the information. There was no way she was going to the hospital with her.

Afterward, she turned on the fans in all three rooms and sprayed more pheromone blockers. By the time she was done, it was nearly 8 p.m. Her phone rang—Lin Qinghan.

“Still working?” Lin Qinghan asked. “When are you coming home?”

Just hearing her voice calmed Shen Xian down. She softened her tone. “There was a little incident. I’m heading home now. Is Tiantian asleep?”

“Just tucked her in. Drive safe. See you soon.”

“See you soon.” Hanging up, Shen Xian felt a little better—until the smell on her clothes hit her again. It was revolting. The mingled scents of estrus pheromones and blockers clung to her like a cloud. Her head throbbed.

This was the moment she most hated the world’s setting since transmigrating. Even when she had no feelings for someone, she could still be affected by their heat. And vice versa. The idea that she could be influenced by someone irrelevant—utterly unacceptable.

She left the office, drove to the underground parking lot, and got into her car. The enclosed space was suffocating. Shen Xian immediately rolled down all four windows and opened the sunroof and ventilation system, but it still wasn’t enough to ease the nausea in her chest.

Though summer nights weren’t cold, she drove fast, wind whipping through the open car. By the time she got home, she was already feeling a bit feverish.

As soon as she stepped inside, Lin Qinghan caught a whiff of another Omega’s pheromones on her. Frowning at Shen Xian’s pale face, she asked, “What happened?”

Sniffling, Shen Xian replied tiredly, “It was that Omega you met before—Yuan Zhenzhen. She went into heat today. And I don’t think it was a coincidence. I told everyone to leave after five, but she stayed until after seven and then called me, asking for help. I called an ambulance and had her taken away.”

Her expression turned cold. “Unbelievable. I just started this company and already I’m dealing with this kind of crap. I’m firing her tomorrow. I won’t keep someone like that around. Ugh, the smell is awful—I’m going to shower.”

Lin Qinghan had initially been annoyed by the scent, but seeing Shen Xian’s exhausted expression—and how disgusted she looked by it—quelled her irritation. Besides, Shen Xian had been nothing but proper since moving in. She hadn’t even caught a whiff of Shen Xian’s own pheromones, except that one time in the hospital.

“Okay, go shower,” Lin Qinghan said from the sofa.

“Qinghan, could you bring me a nightgown? I reek. How am I supposed to sleep like this?” Shen Xian complained with a pout.

Seeing her like that, as if she might vomit from another whiff of herself, Lin Qinghan chuckled and got up. “I’ll grab one for you. Be right back.”

She fetched a nightgown from Shen Xian’s room and handed it over. Shen Xian thanked her before rushing into the bathroom.

The lingering scent in the room was still unpleasant—foreign pheromones overlaid with blockers. Lin Qinghan turned on the house’s exhaust fans before sitting back down.

She thought back to two months ago, when she and Shen Xian had still been at each other’s throats. Back then, she’d been so wary she even sprayed pheromone blockers throughout the house when Shen Xian visited. But gradually, Shen Xian had proven herself reliable—and Lin Qinghan hadn’t used a blocker since.

Half an hour later, Shen Xian emerged from the bathroom, hair dried, clothes tossed into the wash. She still looked pale.

Concerned, Lin Qinghan approached. “You okay? Are you feeling sick?”

Shen Xian looked at her, then took two steps forward and hugged her tightly. “I don’t feel well… Qinghan, can I just hold you for a moment?”

The moment Shen Xian wrapped her arms around her, Lin Qinghan’s heart skipped a beat—then pounded rapidly. But she didn’t push her away. Her hands stayed clenched at her sides.

After a few seconds, Shen Xian pulled away and gave a strained smile. “Thanks. I feel a little better now. I’m heading to bed—you should rest too.”

It was the first time since Shen Xian moved in that Lin Qinghan had seen her like this—so dejected. The hint of romantic tension that had flickered in her heart was quickly replaced by worry. She lingered at Shen Xian’s door for a moment, but eventually turned off the living room light and returned to her own room.

Still feeling off, Shen Xian cracked all the windows in her room and turned on the fan and exhaust again, finally feeling a bit of relief.

The next morning, Lin Qinghan didn’t see Shen Xian up and about as usual. Normally she would have already made breakfast. Instead, Lin Qinghan prepared toast and milk for Tiantian and then went to knock on Shen Xian’s door.

No response.

She opened the door to find Shen Xian curled up in bed, her breathing uneven. The room was chilly, with all the fans and windows still open.

Stepping closer, Lin Qinghan touched her forehead—it was burning.

“Shen Xian, wake up. You’ve got a fever. Come on, get dressed—we’re going to the hospital.”

Shen Xian stirred, voice hoarse. “It’s okay, Qinghan. Just a cold. Let me sleep. Go take Tiantian to school.”

She buried herself under the covers.

Left with no choice, Lin Qinghan got medicine from the cabinet, helped Shen Xian sit up and take it, and then left to take Tiantian to school.

Afterward, she told the company she wouldn’t be coming in. Leaving Shen Xian home alone like this would only worry her.

When she got back, Shen Xian was still asleep, now lightly sweating from the fever meds. Lin Qinghan wet a towel and gently wiped her face.

Just then, Shen Xian’s phone rang on the nightstand, disturbing her. Lin Qinghan glanced at the caller ID—it was the office—so she stepped outside to answer.

“President Shen? There are a few documents that need your signature. Are you coming in today?” Yan Qiang asked.

“I’m not President Shen. She has a fever and won’t be coming in. Please let everyone know.”

After she hung up, Yan Qiang excitedly told his coworkers, “President Shen’s wife just answered the phone. Said she’s got a fever.”

“I knew it! That time she was holding Tiantian, I bet it was the boss’s wife,” Li Xing chimed in.

Song Min listened, something about it nagging at her. She noticed Yuan Zhenzhen hadn’t shown up either and wasn’t replying to messages.

Meanwhile, back at home, Shen Xian still refused to eat at lunchtime. Her fever lingered.

Sitting beside her, Lin Qinghan sighed, lifted her hair, and peeled off her own pheromone patch. Then she brushed back Shen Xian’s hair and removed her patch, too.

Though pheromones didn’t replace medicine, scent from a bonded partner could soothe a sick mate. Though they were divorced, their bond remained unbroken.

Releasing a thread of her sweet osmanthus scent, Lin Qinghan carefully let it drift to Shen Xian’s gland.

Shen Xian didn’t wake, but her body responded. Her own scent—warm and citrusy—began to bloom, mingling with Lin Qinghan’s. Her breathing slowed. Her face relaxed. The weight crushing her chest lifted.

When she looked better, Lin Qinghan stopped. She reapplied the patches and turned on the fan to clear the air. She didn’t want Shen Xian to know.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, Lin Qinghan remembered Shen Xian’s laundry. She checked the machine—no discoloration—then hung everything to dry. But when she reached the underwear, her ears flushed red.

She later called Fang Jinglan to have Tiantian stay over for the night—partly to avoid infection, partly so she could fully care for Shen Xian.

Around 5 p.m., Shen Xian woke up. Sitting up, she saw Lin Qinghan nearby, seated on a stool.

Still groggy, she rubbed her eyes. “Qinghan? Didn’t you go to work?”

As she moved, the loose strap of her nightgown slipped off her shoulder, revealing pale skin.

Lin Qinghan’s gaze lingered before she quickly looked away, her ears turning red. Shen Xian, oblivious, kept chatting.

Clearing her throat, Lin Qinghan approached. “You had a high fever. I took the day off.” She touched Shen Xian’s forehead and gently adjusted the fallen strap. “Doesn’t feel hot anymore. But take another dose tonight to be safe.”

“Okay. I’m just… a little hungry.”

Lin Qinghan retrieved long-sleeved pajamas from the wardrobe. “Change into these and sweat it out a bit. You’ll catch a chill in that. I’ll go make noodles—something light.”

Shen Xian nodded. “Thanks.”

By the time she finished changing, Lin Qinghan had already served up the noodles. Seeing Shen Xian properly dressed, she quietly sighed in relief.

“Careful—it’s still hot,” she reminded her.

“Thanks, Qinghan.” Shen Xian smiled and began eating. After a few bites, she frowned in confusion. “Did you give me any other medicine? I was feeling horrible earlier, but then it was like I was floating on clouds…”

As she spoke, Lin Qinghan’s face reddened visibly.

To shut her up, she picked up a slice of ham from the bowl and popped it into Shen Xian’s mouth.

Shen Xian blinked, surprised but pleased. “Thanks, Qinghan!”

Seeing she wasn’t going to press further, Lin Qinghan finally relaxed. The rest of the meal was awkwardly quiet.

Shen Xian, on the other hand, was in a great mood. She’d noticed the virtual number over Lin Qinghan’s head had ticked up from 10 to 20—it had been stuck for ages.

After dinner, she went to rinse off and remembered her laundry. She opened the washer—empty. A peek at the balcony confirmed her clothes were already hanging. Seeing Lin Qinghan still washing dishes in the kitchen, Shen Xian’s heart swelled.

Qinghan was so good to her.