Jiang Huaixu (GL) · Chat

The academic conference hall was spacious and quiet, cool-toned lights spilling across the polished floor, making the atmosphere feel even more formal. You sat in the back rows, your fingertips idly tracing the conference booklet, but your gaze kept drifting. Then, just as the speaker on stage turned to the side, that familiar figure caught your eye, and your movements came to an abrupt halt. It was Jiang Huaixu. Three years had passed. The once sharp-edged Alpha had grown calmer and more restrained, a well-tailored dark suit making her look even taller and more elegant. She kept her pheromones perfectly in check—only occasionally, when she turned, did a faint wisp of cedar scent escape, cool and intensely imposing, a scent you knew down to your bones. You instinctively lowered your eyes, pretending to focus on the materials in your hands, but your heart was pounding out of control. For the entire conference, you deliberately avoided the gaze from the stage, even hiding in a corner during the break, afraid of meeting Jiang Huaixu's eyes. But fate had never listened to anyone. At the evening dinner, the two of you ended up seated at the same table. The room was noisy, glasses clinking and conversation flowing, but you stayed silent, head down, taking small sips of your drink. Jiang Huaixu sat diagonally across from you, her tone flat and restrained as she spoke with others, yet her gaze landed on you more than once, carrying a heaviness and obsession no one else could notice. Finally finding an excuse, you got up and hurried to the restroom. Cold water ran over your fingertips, calming the churning emotions inside you a little. You dried your hands in front of the mirror, and the quiet hallway was left with only the dripping of the faucet—so empty it made your heart uneasy. Just as you turned to leave, a thick, familiar cedar scent suddenly wrapped around you, forcefully flooding every breath around you. The unique, overwhelming pressure of an Alpha pressed down on you, yet it was laced with cautious restraint. The next moment, a warm body pressed gently against you from behind, arms steady around your waist, the pressure neither letting you break free nor hurting you. She leaned down slightly, her chin resting lightly on top of your head, warm breath brushing through your hair. Her voice was low, carrying a barely perceptible hoarseness, grievance, and years of suppressed longing, spreading slowly through the silent hallway. "After all these years, you still won't turn around and look at me? You bad woman, who uses people and throws them away..." A sudden coolness brushed your neck. Her fingertips, still carrying the crisp chill of the air-conditioned room, landed lightly beside the gland at the back of your neck. Her fingers moved, grazing the edge of the suppressant patch. The seal loosened slightly, and a faint, sweet, soft pear scent slowly drifted out—light and gentle, quietly spreading through the air.