What Should I Do If My Ex-Girlfriend's Pheromones Smell Too Good? - Chapter 70

Chapter 70: Fighting

Yan Xiangyu’s expression was so sincere, as if she were truly offering an objective suggestion. Shu Qiong was momentarily stunned by this perfectly natural, opportunistic “green tea” rhetoric.

But what could she do about such tea? With four parts doting, three parts indulgence, and one part genuine emotion, Shu Qiong nodded: “You’re right… Hey, the chip read successfully.”

Using the classic “change the subject” maneuver, both turned their heads to look. The progress bar on the brain-computer screen had reached full capacity, popping up a new interface.

It was much as Shu Qiong had guessed. Inside was a list of evidence of collusion between the Xin family and various other sectors, including but not limited to surveillance videos of several people entering Elk Winery together. There were even surreptitious shots of secret meetings inside the Xin family residence, featuring the Xin Patriarch, his secretary, Shu Xuanhe, and various socialites.

Shu Qiong clicked on a random video file and found the filming angle quite intriguing—a downward diagonal shot of a group of people stepping out of luxury cars and into Elk Winery. It likely came from a hidden camera placed across from the winery.

The two counted ten expensive-looking cars appearing at the entrance of Elk Winery in just half an hour. As the last car arrived, Shu Xuanhe stepped out, followed by dozens of beautiful men and women.

Shu Qiong’s brow hadn’t relaxed since she started watching. She saw Shu Xuanhe casually grab the buttocks of a fair-skinned young man as he got out of the car. She knew exactly what roles those people—with their suggestive clothing and strained smiles—played in these gatherings meant for the amusement of so-called “high society.”

She recognized one of them: a signed artist under a mid-sized entertainment company owned by Shu Xuanhe. The face was still youthful, looking barely of age, with a modest reputation—someone who at most landed small supporting roles in the acting world.

The reason Shu Qiong recognized her was that this starlet had played the fourth female lead in a hit drama. Although Shu Qiong didn’t like watching TV series, the show’s popularity meant even the minor characters got a bit of the spotlight. Shu Qiong had seen her face on a giant neon screen in the street. At that time, she was endorsing a low-end niche clothing brand; in the massive poster, she wore a large sun hat and a slim-fitting dress against a backdrop of a golden beach, smiling sweetly at the camera.

In the interstellar era, the entertainment industry had experienced a boom, and the power of capital was unprecedented. This entertainment company was something Shu Xuanhe had founded himself in his early years, independent of the Shu family.

Shu Qiong sighed, her eyes quickly scanning the timestamps of the video files. The earliest could be traced back four years. However, after thinking for a moment, she decided this date wasn’t of great value. Four years was simply the earliest the person gathering evidence had noticed the problem; it wasn’t necessarily the starting point of the shady dealings between Shu Xuanhe and the Xin family.

As she continued scrolling, Yan Xiangyu suddenly called for a stop. “This person… looks familiar.”

She pointed to a man in the paused frame who was slightly stout and had a receding hairline. Shu Qiong studied him for a long time but couldn’t recognize him. Yan Xiangyu reminded her: “He was one of the guest speakers representing the military who gave a speech to the freshmen at the Military Academy’s opening ceremony. You were backstage waiting as a student representative, so you didn’t see him go on stage and don’t have an impression.”

Under normal circumstances, Yan Xiangyu didn’t have a photographic memory, but the content of this military representative’s speech had been very memorable. Among the many leadership speeches that night, it was the least sleep-inducing. Yan Xiangyu remembered his passionate delivery and highly skilled oratory; he was undoubtedly a speaker who knew how to manipulate an audience’s emotions.

“Sounds like a competent politician,” Shu Qiong commented.

Specific information on such people couldn’t be found online. Yan Xiangyu searched for a while before finding a few useful scraps on his public social media account. “He is General Yuan Ze from the Military’s Second District, but he is officially retiring in the second half of the year.”

In the official photos, he was a middle-aged man with upright features, thick eyebrows, and a smile. Shu Qiong performed an intelligent search and facial recognition, then integrated the statistics. Based on the data in the chip, General Yuan Ze had only been to Elk Winery once. “Only once? Maybe it’s a coincidence?”

Most of the other problematic individuals were regulars at Elk Winery.

Yan Xiangyu shook her head. “If he had appeared openly, that would be one thing. But he went there in a very secretive manner, which makes him look more suspicious.”

In the surveillance footage, General Yuan Ze was fully disguised. Wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a black mask, dressed in casual clothes completely different from his usual public appearances. If Yan Xiangyu hadn’t caught the moment he took off his mask after entering the winery, and if the camera resolution weren’t high enough, no one would have recognized him.

Shu Qiong selected all the content and copied it, creating a backup on a new chip.

“I don’t like dealing with this stuff,” she said, righteously shirking the work. “Give it to my cousin and let her have the headache.”

Yan Xiangyu naturally had no objection. Forget about mere laziness—even if Shu Qiong wanted to commit a murder, Yan Xiangyu would likely be the one helping to dig the hole and bury the body.

Shu Qiong yawned and muttered: “Didn’t I cling to her thigh early on just so I could rest in the shade of a big tree? But what’s the deal with Lin Mi? We only knew her for a few days at the base, and she dared to give me something this important?”

Hope she isn’t just trying to be lazy too!

After all, Lin Mi had already left the Xin family with her mother. If it really came down to a “burn-the-boats” confrontation with the forces behind the Xin family, Lin Mi couldn’t do it and didn’t dare to…

Yan Xiangyu blurted out: “She probably wants to shift the hatred. This person… is quite deep.”

Yan Xiangyu was just such an honest and double-standard person.

Shu Qiong stood up and stretched. She pulled out the two chips; the original one, integrated with the miniature gun, was pressed back into place, and she kept the gun hidden. The new backup chip was handed to Yan Xiangyu to be kept safely.

After finishing this, she sent a message to Shu Xuanmin: “I have something good; you should be interested.”

A few minutes later, the reply came—two short words: “Conditions?”

Shu Qiong thought for a moment and solemnly typed: “Discuss in person tomorrow.”

Shu Xuanmin replied with a “Good,” being quite economical with her words.

Just as Shu Qiong was about to put away her wristband, another seemingly random sentence arrived from the other side after a long pause: “The room next to you is a clean, vacant room. No one lives there.”

Shu Qiong sent a question mark in confusion, but Shu Xuanmin didn’t reply further. It wasn’t until she turned around and saw Yan Xiangyu—still sitting on the sofa in her black-and-white waiter uniform—that she suddenly realized.

She’s calling me out for hiding a person in my room!

Shu Qiong clicked her tongue inwardly. Could Shu Xuanmin be holding a grudge for her attempt to pump Xiao Chen for info before leaving the hospital? So petty!

“What’s wrong?” Yan Xiangyu quickly noticed the change in her mood and looked up to ask.

Shu Qiong said calmly: “N-nothing, I just hinted about the chip to my cousin.”

Yan Xiangyu nodded. “So she knows about my existence?”

Shu Qiong was truly impressed. “Can you read minds? Then guess again—how did she find out?”

The corners of Yan Xiangyu’s lips tilted up. “The nanny robot… has been tampered with?”

Shu Qiong suddenly felt there was no challenge left. “Probably. Maybe she can remotely connect to the camera in the robot.”

With that, she looked Yan Xiangyu up and down, making the other person unconsciously straighten her back. After meeting her gaze for a few seconds, Yan Xiangyu pursed her lips and used one hand to loosen the bowtie at her neck. “Do you have an extra pair of pajamas?”

Shu Qiong acted serious. “No.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Yan Xiangyu continued to stare at her. After a brief standoff of wills, Shu Qiong was the first to give in. She looked away. “The room next door is empty. Shall I take you over?”

Yan Xiangyu unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt, revealing her beautiful, slender neck and a red pressure mark from the collar. “Is that so? Then I’ll go grab a quilt and bring it over.”

Shu Qiong simply had no way to deal with this person who was “playing dumb while being perfectly aware,” so she gave in and nodded. She went to the walk-in closet and pulled out a set of brand-new pajamas. She was about to head out with them but turned back, rummaging through the very back of the wardrobe until she found a silk nightgown that felt cool and smooth to the touch.

Shu Qiong walked out expressionlessly holding the nightgown: “For you.”

Yan Xiangyu twirled the silk black nightgown, which reflected a low-key luster. Her eyebrows twitched. “Are you sure?”

Shu Qiong almost laughed out loud. “Wear it or don’t. This is the only ‘extra’ set of pajamas I have.”

When Yan Xiangyu was alone with Shu Qiong, her moral integrity was always an unknown variable. She suddenly said: “Then I don’t have to wear anything at all.”

Shu Qiong was glad she wasn’t drinking water, otherwise, she would have spat it all out. So this one is the thickest-skinned of all.

She draped the gown over the back of the sofa, gave a sinister “He-he,” and walked leisurely toward the bathroom.

In the end, Yan Xiangyu did not refuse the carefully selected nightgown. No displeasure could be seen on her face as she light-footedly went next door to grab a thin quilt. When she returned to Shu Qiong’s room with the quilt, Shu Qiong had finished brushing her teeth and was squatting by the trash can, unwrapping the packaging for Yan Xiangyu’s toiletries.

The packaging was removed, towels were hung neatly, and toothbrushes were placed side-by-side—all perfectly aligned and matching. When Yan Xiangyu came in, she saw Shu Qiong staring dizzily at the toothbrushes.

“Is there a problem?” she asked curiously.

Shu Qiong snapped out of it. “Nothing… your toiletries are all ready. Um, use my body wash and stuff.”

Yan Xiangyu became very demure again, nodding as if for show. Shu Qiong left the bathroom and sink area to her and went out to lay out the quilt.

The bed was quite large; there was no problem for two people to sleep there. After placing two pillows side-by-side at the head of the bed, Shu Qiong couldn’t help but feel a bit dazed again.

I’m… probably, maybe, perhaps… about to go to bed with my ex-girlfriend!

Granted, this ex-girlfriend was now the “rekindled flame” version, and it wasn’t the first time they had slept together, but still… previously, sleeping together always had a reason or was a “make-do” situation under force majeure, like Yan Xiangyu being drunk or a tent being broken. It wasn’t like this time, where their intentions were completely exposed in the open.

Did she reject it? Of course not. Shu Qiong touched her chest. At this moment, her chest wasn’t filled with the leap of excitement, but a faint pleasure mixed with peace and comfort. This emotion grew thread by thread—not a violent surge, but something persistent and long-lasting. It felt a bit foreign to Shu Qiong.

So how exactly did I get to this point with my ex?

Shu Qiong reminisced silently. Counting it out, it had only been a month since their reunion, and she had already gone back to “eat the old grass” with zero willpower!

The sound of water behind the door stopped. Yan Xiangyu pushed the door open, wearing that silk nightgown Shu Qiong had pulled out to be mischievous. She walked straight toward Shu Qiong, who was squatting at the foot of the bed reflecting on life.

Shu Qiong’s attention was drawn by the rustling footsteps. When she looked up, she was met with a pair of long, pale, straight legs. The graceful lines extended all the way until they disappeared into the shadows. The cool, slippery silk reflected a faint light, blending with the warm steam from her body and the familiar scent of the body wash.

Shu Qiong couldn’t help but look up, caught off guard by a firm, tight, high-quality slender waist and two mounds of white snow buried among dark clouds.

“D*mn.”

Shu Qiong almost stared in a daze. After a silent curse, she hurriedly looked away, but then she thought: Isn’t it a loss if I don’t look?!

Thus, she turned her gaze back with feigned naturalness, while finding the perfect reason for herself.

—This ‘old grass’ is of too high a quality; not eating it would be inhuman!

After all, she was just an ordinary woman with normal aesthetic standards. Shu Qiong just stood there with her arms crossed, fangirling internally, nearly drooling. For a good while, her legs probably went numb and her neck felt sore from looking up, so she slowly moved toward the edge of the bed.

Yan Xiangyu looked on with amusement. “Want to look for a bit longer?”

“No, no.” Having seen her fill, Shu Qiong turned a cold shoulder. “What time is it? Aren’t you going to sleep?”

The sky outside the window was already turning grey. She sat on the edge of the bed, rolling herself into a quilt, and instructed Yan Xiangyu: “Last one in bed turns off the light.”

The footsteps that followed were light and slow. Before long, the ceiling light dimmed, leaving only a small bedside lamp glowing with a warm yellow light. Shu Qiong felt the mattress sink slightly beside her. Even through the quilt, she seemed to feel the other person’s body temperature. Soon the bedside lamp also went out, and the room fell into complete darkness.

Shu Qiong lay for a while before she couldn’t help but roll over to face Yan Xiangyu, smelling the same faint scent as her own. Even though she couldn’t see anything, she was inexplicably happy. Because she was happy, she wasn’t sleepy anymore, so she childishly traced the outline of the other’s face in the dark following the sound of their faint breathing.

“Can’t sleep?” Yan Xiangyu’s voice came from very close by.

Shu Qiong mumbled: “I took a nap in the car.”

Hearing that she indeed didn’t sound tired, Yan Xiangyu continued: “Want to talk?”

Shu Qiong was momentarily at a loss for words—she couldn’t exactly say she was counting the other’s breathing rate! So she asked: “Talk about what?” Her voice sounded soft and sticky because of her slight guilt, like being nestled in a cloud with a piece of candy in her mouth.

Yan Xiangyu laughed silently in the dark. “Your illness—the ‘Opposite-Sex Pheromone Incompatibility.’ Didn’t the doctor say they were pushing for drug research? What stage is it at now?”

Shu Qiong hadn’t expected her to talk about this. She answered frankly: “There are preliminary results. They say within six months at most, they can develop a specific targeted suppression drug. It can ensure that I won’t have symptoms from contacting Omega pheromones in daily life, but the ‘impotence’ toward the opposite sex still can’t be improved.”

In other words, the word “impotent” would accompany her for the rest of her life. Shu Qiong was quite indifferent to this; being able to reach the point of not getting sick and not affecting normal life was good enough—what else could she ask for? Besides, the person she… she liked wasn’t an Omega anyway.

Yan Xiangyu hummed. “It must be hard.”

“What?”

“Since it’s an illness, it causes pain to the patient that others cannot replace,” Yan Xiangyu said slowly. “I’ve seen you during an episode.” Her tone was like ice water, cooler than the silk in the night. Hearing this, Shu Qiong, the person involved, felt a bit embarrassed.

“Was I a bit ugly when I had the episode?”

Difficulty breathing causing an abnormal flush, eyes leaking a large amount of physiological tears, plus a distorted, uncontrollable expression of pain.

Yan Xiangyu’s tone grew even cooler: “No.” She barely had time for heartache and anger—how could she notice or define the beauty or ugliness of someone in pain?

A tentative soft touch came to her hand. A hand unceremoniously reached into her quilt, fumbled for a bit like a blind person feeling an elephant, found Yan Xiangyu’s hand, and held it.

Shu Qiong smiled: “It won’t happen again.”

The time Xin Xiuyun had successfully targeted her was partly due to her own underestimation and her calculation to deliberately trigger the hidden danger ahead of time. Shu Qiong increased the pressure with her fingertips, squeezing the other’s finger bones, trying to distract Yan Xiangyu.

While holding her back, Yan Xiangyu sighed softly. “I am a selfish person. When I learned about your illness, my first reaction was actually relief.”

“Relief that I won’t fall for other Omegas because of physiological factors?” Shu Qiong asked bashfully, feeling a bit narcissistic.

“Part of it.” Yan Xiangyu pressed the back of the other’s hand against her cheek. “The other part was relief that after we broke up, I differentiated into an Alpha out of spite.”

Shu Qiong, still lying on her side, raised her head in surprise. “You can differentiate out of spite?”

Yan Xiangyu’s tone became a bit more pleasant at the thought. “At that time, I heard you had differentiated into a female Alpha. I made up my mind to differentiate into an even stronger Alpha so that I would win over you when we met in the future.”

Shu Qiong’s eyes widened in the dark. “…”

A backpack! Such elementary school kid behavior!

“Come on,” she suddenly withdrew her hand and sat up in bed. “Let’s have a fight and see if you can win over me now.”

Yan Xiangyu also sat up. The two faced each other in the darkness. Shu Qiong couldn’t see the other’s expression, but she could hear her lazy, calm voice: “Sure. You pick the time, I’ll pick the place. We’ll fight right here on the bed.”

“Where’s your sense of shame, Student Yan?” Shu Qiong was truly impressed.

Yan Xiangyu told a blatant lie: “I mean the bed is softer; it’s less likely to get injured during a fight.”

Shu Qiong plopped back down onto her pillow. Since things had reached this point, she boldly kicked her quilt to the end of the bed. Immediately, Yan Xiangyu found that half of her own quilt was unceremoniously pulled away. Shu Qiong wriggled a few times and dove straight into the other’s covers.

Not content with stealing half the quilt, Shu Qiong also tried to take over half of Yan Xiangyu’s pillow. Such overbearing behavior was accepted by Yan Xiangyu with good grace. She even asked, sounding satisfied but not content: “What’s the next step?”

Shu Qiong pinched her face playfully and said seriously: “We’re fighting. No smiling allowed.”