Transmigrated into a Trashy A and Ended Up with My Grudge-filled Best Friend and My Own CP - Chapter 65.1

Birthday.

Ding Moyan instinctively lowered her head to glance at her phone today was November 5th.

The original body’s birthday was exactly the same as hers in the real world.

Warm breath brushed against her ear, ticklish. Ding Moyan rubbed her earlobe as the heat in her cheeks intensified, burning fiercely.

Head bowed, she accepted the rose, her lively eyes too shy to meet Zong Jia’s gaze. “Thank you.”

A smile played at the corners of Zong Jia’s lips as she surveyed the living room clean and tidy, with no cake, decorations, or signs of a birthday celebration on the table. Judging from Ding Moyan’s stunned expression earlier, it was clear she had forgotten today was her birthday.

The President settled onto the sofa. After placing the flowers in her bedroom, Ding Moyan hurriedly cleared the leftover tea from the table. “President, I’ll make you some tea.”

“Alright.”

That single word from the President made the flush on Ding Moyan’s face impossible to hide. Fumbling with the teapot, she looked utterly innocent.

What an adorable Alpha.

Zong Jia mused to herself.

Ding Moyan carried the teapot to the kitchen, but instead of immediately tearing open a tea packet, she rushed to the sink.

Splashing cold water on her flushed face, she tried to cool the burning heat in her cheeks.

The icy water snapped her out of her daze. Ding Moyan shook her head and wiped her face carelessly with her sleeve.

The fabric still carried traces of the President’s pheromones. She sniffed it, her heart swelling with delight.

The President wished me a happy birthday. Ding Moyan felt like she might burst from grinning too hard.

Zong Jia was still waiting in the living room. Tearing open the tea packet, Ding Moyan began brewing.

As she worked, a question surfaced in her mind, how did the President know my birthday?

With this curiosity lingering, she brought the freshly brewed green tea to the President. Once Zong Jia accepted the cup, Ding Moyan asked, “President, how did you know today was my birthday?”

“I was the one who entered your student records at the Rose Workshop,” Zong Jia explained.

She remembered after just one look? Ding Moyan blinked, gazing at Zong Jia in awe.

“Normally, the advisors handle new student registrations, but yours happened to be the last one, and the assigned professor had an emergency. So, I stepped in to process yours.” Zong Jia tapped her temple lightly.

Still impressive. Student records were submitted before enrollment, and so much time had passed since then. Yet she remembered my birthday. Ding Moyan was in awe of the President’s incredible memory. If I had a memory like hers, I could’ve been the top liberal arts scorer in the national college entrance exams back in the real world.

Ding Moyan hesitated before asking, “President, since you’re here now, what about your other duties?”

Zong Jia took a sip of tea. “I’ve attended every year. It’s not like someone else can’t take over this time.” After all, I’ll be graduating from the Engineering Institute sooner or later.

She left the latter unspoken, but Ding Moyan understood.

The air between them grew inexplicably heavy. Sitting across from each other, neither spoke.

Ding Moyan wrung her hands nervously, feeling like a flustered girl in a drama experiencing her first love unsure of what to say or where to start.

Her toes curled awkwardly under the table. She turned her face slightly away, avoiding Zong Jia’s gaze.

Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, she asked, “President, have you eaten yet?”

“No,” Zong Jia shook her head. She quickly handed over the Mecha Competition debate tasks to the next batch of juniors and hurriedly boarded the interstellar cabin.

During the flight, she was still sorting through the case of Jiǎng Pèi’s death, not even having time to take a bite of food.

“President, wait for me.”

Ding Moyan got up from her seat and rushed back to the kitchen, personally preparing two bowls of noodles.

Zong Jia put away her work tablet and looked at the noodles Ding Moyan brought over. The broth was a dark red, with a faint aroma of sweet vinegar.

Ding Moyan forced a smile. “Longevity noodles, eaten on birthdays.”

“You eat this on your birthday?” Zong Jia had never seen anyone eat this on their birthday before.

Ding Moyan nodded shyly. “Yeah.” Mainly because there was no cake, so she had to settle for second best.

Outside, the rain was pouring heavily, and most shops were closed. Before making the noodles, she had checked her phone, all the cake shops on the delivery platforms were shut. Even if she wanted cake, there was no way to order one.

Ding Moyan watched as Zong Jia took a bite of the round noodles, her eyes filled with anticipation. “Is it good?”

Zong Jia’s expression shifted slightly. She swallowed the noodles and immediately replied, “It’s good.”

“That’s a relief. It’s been a long time since I last mixed the broth, so I wasn’t sure if the flavor was right.” Ding Moyan picked up her chopsticks, ready to eat.

But the President stopped her, pressing down on Ding Moyan’s hand holding the chopsticks. “Birthdays should be celebrated with cake. I’ll make one.”

Without leaving room for refusal, Zong Jia took both bowls back to the kitchen.

Ding Moyan stared at Zong Jia’s retreating figure, her mind immediately conjuring up an image of the President wearing an apron and holding a spatula.

Lost in this fantasy, Ding Moyan couldn’t resist the urge to go watch.

The kitchen was separated by a glass door. Peering through it, Ding Moyan saw the slender figure moving busily around the counter, the tied apron adding a unique charm.

Adding sugar, butter, water, whisking eggs, every motion was smooth and effortless.

Was the President cooking? No, she was creating art!

Ding Moyan stared unblinkingly through the glass door, gradually turning into the President’s little fangirl with every move she made.

An hour later, a fresh little cake emerged from the oven.

Zong Jia untied her apron and carried the cake back to the living room.

“You, why?” Zong Jia paused at the glass door.

Seeing the person pressed against it, a smile curled at the corners of her lips.

Ding Moyan snapped out of it, burying her embarrassment at being caught. Summoning her thick skin, she quickly came up with an excuse: “President, I was just trying to secretly learn your skills.”

“Next time, just come in. I’ll teach you.” Zong Jia didn’t expose her, speaking with subtlety.

She placed the cake on the table.

It was a simple cake just a basic cream cake, about six inches in size, enough for two people.

Zong Jia gazed at the little cake. Birthdays held no personal significance for her. Aside from her grand tenth birthday celebration, her subordinates had always just bought her a cake.

“There wasn’t any chocolate or fruit left in the kitchen, so the cake is relatively plain,” Zong Jia said softly, her lashes lowering slightly.

“No, no, President! This is the most luxurious thing I’ve eaten today.” Ding Moyan stared at the little cake, clapping internally in admiration. The President was so talented, no wonder the students at the Rose Workshop jokingly called her the “National Omega.”

No way, I have to take a photo and post it on my social feed.

Not photographing a pretty little cake before eating it would be a downright waste, a waste of the President’s cooking.

Ding Moyan dashed to the bedroom and, before Zong Jia could react to what she was doing, returned with a large bouquet of roses. She placed the roses next to the cake, expertly arranging them for the perfect shot. Finding the right angle, she snapped several photos with a cheerful “click, click.”

After some touch-ups and filters, Ding Moyan pursed her lips, added a caption, and posted it to her feed.

Zong Jia’s gaze never left Ding Moyan, watching her antics with amusement. She leaned back, abandoning her usual poised posture, her expression uncharacteristically relaxed.

Outside, the rain pattered on without any sign of stopping. Glancing at the gloomy sky, Zong Jia turned her attention back to the girl waiting for her to make a wish and blow out the candles.

The lights in the room dimmed, leaving only the flickering candlelight atop the creamy little cake on the table warm and inviting despite the dreary weather.

Zong Jia lounged lazily on the sofa, her eyes soft and affectionate.

Ding Moyan grew flustered under her gaze, her lips pressing together as she averted her eyes back to the cake.

Her heart swirled with sweetness, bubbling over like honey. Clasping her hands earnestly, she silently made her wish.

Then, with a soft “whoosh,” she blew out the candles.

The bathroom was separated from the bedroom by just a single door, offering no soundproofing.

Ding Moyan had finished showering long ago and was now lying in bed. The sound of running water from the shower echoed in her ears, stirring up all sorts of inappropriate thoughts. Ever since she had bitten the President’s neck, she hadn’t been able to resist sneaking into the library to brush up on Alpha and Omega biology. She’d even been caught by Ye Ye, whose knowing smirk still haunted her to this day.

And then, that very same day, Ye Ye had handed her a few memory cards insert them into the household robot, and it would automatically play certain educational videos.

Ding Moyan bit her snow-white teeth into her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. The sound of the shower continued, and Zong Jia’s pheromones seeped through the door.

The cold, delicate fragrance of winter plum, refreshing and intoxicating, assaulted her senses.

Ding Moyan inhaled, her throat dry, her own Gland at the nape of her neck instinctively releasing pheromones in response.

She hastily sat up, muttering “not for kids” under her breath.

“What are you looking at?” Zong Jia asked as she stepped out of the shower, hair dried, only to find the Alpha on the bed staring blankly. She frowned slightly Ding Moyan had been spacing out a lot lately.

“At a beauty,” Ding Moyan mumbled.

“Hm?” Zong Jia waved a hand in front of her face.

Ding Moyan snapped back to reality, her cheeks burning. Clearing her throat, she blurted, “The President is so pretty.”

Zong Jia arched a brow but didn’t respond. Sitting on the bed, she pulled back the covers. “Time to sleep.”

“P-President, th-this isn’t appropriate,” Ding Moyan stammered, pointing at Zong Jia’s loosely tied robe.

The President wore a thin black robe, the fabric slipping to reveal her alluring collarbone and fair skin.

“?” Zong Jia glanced at her sidelong. “Same as always, you sleep on that side, I sleep on this one.”

Ding Moyan: “!!!” She couldn’t hide the disappointment in her heart, wondering what she was regretting.

“Ding Moyan, where did your mind wander off to?” Zong Jia climbed onto the bed, tilting her head to ask.

Ding Moyan covered her flushed face in embarrassment.

Zong Jia: “Why are you blushing?”

“Don’t look at me.” Ding Moyan cursed herself inwardly for having such dirty thoughts.

“Don’t look at me.”

“Ding Moyan, look up.” Zong Jia spoke in a tone that brooked no refusal.

Ding Moyan hugged her knees and raised her head pitifully to gaze at her.

Zong Jia tugged at Ding Moyan’s pajama collar and deliberately asked, “Why are you blushing?”

Ding Moyan tightly pursed her lips, if she actually said it out loud, she’d be mortified beyond belief.

“Answer me.”

Ding Moyan turned her face away, refusing to speak no matter what.

Her gaze fell on the vibrant roses on the nightstand. She plucked a red rose and turned to admire the President’s beautiful face. Unable to resist, she got up and tucked the delicate rose behind the President’s ear.

Zong Jia froze for a moment, her expression dazed. She touched the rose by her ear, her thoughts returning.

“Thank you.” Zong Jia lowered her eyelids slightly, her long, curled lashes veiling the deep, turbulent emotions brewing in her eyes. Her voice was soft and alluring when she spoke.

Ding Moyan’s heart raced under Zong Jia’s gaze. She quickly averted her eyes, lay back on the bed, and pulled the blanket over herself, turning her back to Zong Jia.

Zong Jia’s long lashes lowered slightly, casting faint shadows. Without hesitation, she yanked the blanket away.

Ding Moyan went from cozy warmth to sudden chill as the covers were torn off.

“President.”

“You provoked me.” Zong Jia grabbed Ding Moyan’s wrist and pressed her lips to hers.

Zong Jia knew exactly what she wanted she always took the dominant role in everything.

Even though she was just an Omega.

The President’s kiss was tender and meticulous, her lips as soft as jelly. When she sucked gently, Ding Moyan could smell the faint mingling of tea and winter plum.

Ding Moyan was stunned at first no fever, no heat period, completely sober yet the President had kissed her of her own accord.

Zong Jia gently stroked Ding Moyan’s smooth, delicate back. Ding Moyan shivered at the sensitive touch, her breathing growing ragged.

With a soft whimper, her body melted helplessly.

“Moyan, are you really an Alpha?”

Ding Moyan’s eyes trembled. “I, I am.”

“Then why is your body even softer than an Omega’s?”

Ding Moyan instinctively pulled away from Zong Jia’s arms. She looked at the President’s innocent expression with sorrow. “…”

Her Alpha pride had been inexplicably wounded. Ding Moyan’s ears drooped as she clutched the blanket, shrinking back like a frightened little rabbit facing a big bad wolf. “I-I-I-I, President, I wanna sleep.”

Zong Jia released her pheromones, advancing step by step. The bed wasn’t that big, if Ding Moyan retreated any further, she’d fall off.

“President.” Ding Moyan sat at the edge of the bed, inwardly on the verge of tears.

“Are you acting spoiled?” Zong Jia narrowed her eyes, thoroughly enjoying the sight of her prey with nowhere to run, reduced to pleading.

When the prey fell into her arms, the scent of winter plum grew even stronger but unlike the oppressive kind used in attacks.

It gently enveloped the prey, lulling them into gradual surrender under its tender assault.

When the last shred of reason completely collapsed, the prey slumped weakly into Zong Jia’s arms.

“Good, sleep now,” Zong Jia’s voice softened. “I’ll release calming pheromones for you.”

Ying Shu returned to the Ying residence in a hover car. The estate was located in a rather remote area.

As she reached the main gate, a piece of white wall plaster cracked and fell. Ying Shu instinctively stepped back as the plaster landed with a “smack,” shattering into fragments. The scene perfectly matched the current state of decline patches of weeds had sprouted in the courtyard, left unattended.

Ying Shu’s expression was complex. Ever since the head of the Ying family had secretly hoarded a large quantity of energy starstones, violating interstellar law, and was caught by the authorities and imprisoned in an interstellar prison, the incident had implicated the upper and middle echelons of the Ying family, shaking its foundations.

After that, the Ying family was no longer what it once was. Former allies among the aristocratic families closed their doors to the Yings, eager to sever all ties.

Ying Shu glanced at the lazy servant leaning against the wall in the distance and beckoned her over.

Upon seeing who it was, the servant immediately straightened up and hurried over, her tone respectful as if Ying Shu were her true employer: “Miss Ying.”

Ying Shu pointed at the weeds. “Clean that up. It’s an eyesore.”

“Y-yes, right away,” the servant nodded repeatedly, pulling out large shears from her toolbox to trim the overgrowth.

Ying Shu entered the villa. In the main hall, a small, thin figure knelt obediently in the center.

The one kneeling was her younger cousin. Ying Shu’s brow twitched as she watched the pitiful sight with amusement. She remembered that even if this cousin of hers caused trouble, her aunt would never dream of punishing this unruly boy. So what kind of trap was being laid for her now?

Ying Shu stroked her chin, deep in thought.

Her cousin was delicate, and now his face was deathly pale, his beautiful eyes brimming with tears.

A teacup was thrown beside the boy’s knees, shattering and splashing tea leaves onto Ying Shu’s clothes. Ying Shu frowned slightly, a flicker of displeasure crossing her eyes.

“Ah-Shu, look at your cousin, how shameless he’s become!” The woman feigned outrage before roughly explaining the situation.

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