Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Alpha with Pheromone Disorder (17)

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When Xie Xiangxun called, Shui Que had already taken his medicine and was getting ready for bed.

 

He lay on his side, curled up under the blanket, with the small bedside lamp still on. His plan was to deal with the call from his top supporter and then go straight to sleep.

 

In stark contrast to Shui Que’s relaxed state, the young man with streaks of blue in his hair sat upright in front of his phone’s front camera. Contrary to what his friends might have imagined, he wasn’t lazily draped in a loose bathrobe but was properly dressed in pajamas. His hair even showed signs of careful styling.

 

Shui Que had seen Xie Xiangxun’s face before.

 

It was in that shirtless photo. The other person hadn’t cropped out his face. Logically speaking, the most striking thing in the photo should have been the abs, but the dyed streaks in his hair had left more of an impression on Shui Que.

 

When the call connected, the young man looked momentarily surprised, his expression softening.

 

“It’s only ten o’clock. You’re going to sleep already?”

 

The medicine prescribed by Wei Qing probably had some sedative ingredients—every time Shui Que took it, he would feel drowsy.

 

He nodded listlessly. The dim yellow bedside lamp wasn’t very bright, and because he was lying on his side, his face was pressed against the pillow, making his small face appear slightly squished.

 

Even from this angle, he was ridiculously cute.

 

Xie Xiangxun could hardly imagine how happy he would be in the future if he could share a bed with Shui Que every night.

 

Shui Que’s impression of Xie Xiangxun was that he was a foolishly rich and easily appeased boss who knew how to make amends after being blocked.

 

Tonight was no different—they were just moving their usual conversations to a video call.

 

Things like: What did you eat for dinner? Was it good? What did you do today? Just idle chatter.

 

Maybe because this was their first video call, Shui Que felt that Xiang Xun was more energetic than usual.

 

But he was really too sleepy…

 

Fortunately, most of the time, the other person was the one talking.

 

It seemed like he had started a new topic?

 

Shui Que’s eyes were already half-lidded with drowsiness.

 

“I never properly introduced myself before,” the young man continued talking non-stop. “My name is Xie Xiangxun. I’m 26 years old, 193 cm tall, an Alpha. No family history of genetic diseases, no major illnesses in the past. Physically and mentally clean. A virgin. Former professional esports player. Finance graduate from AS University. Financially free. My hometown is Haicheng, but I currently live in Beicheng. I’m an only child. My parents are open-minded and don’t interfere in my love life.”

 

Shui Que: “……”

 

What was this?

 

Was he on some kind of matchmaking call?

 

Or maybe Boss Xiang Xun just lacked confidence in himself and wanted to vent a little, hoping to get some affirmation and encouragement?

 

No wonder he insisted on a video call.

 

Logically speaking, someone with such great qualifications shouldn’t feel insecure. But Shui Que wasn’t in a position to comment.

 

No one is perfect. Maybe underneath the image of a successful man, Xie Xiangxun actually had a sensitive and fragile heart?

 

Xie Xiangxun asked, “What do you think of me?”

 

Shui Que turned over and casually humored him, “Mm-hmm, very impressive.”

 

“That’s good…” Xie Xiangxun pulled out a tissue and, without changing his expression, wiped the sweat from his palm. His gaze then dropped downward.

 

Shui Que didn’t like buttoning all the buttons on his sleepwear. The top three or four were always left undone.

 

When he rolled over, the fabric naturally loosened, exposing the smooth lines of his shoulder and neck, along with fair skin as soft as snow. Near his pressed-down shoulder, a little bit of flesh bunched up slightly.

 

It was as if a delicate, subtle fragrance was seeping out from within.

 

Xie Xiangxun absentmindedly blurted out his thoughts.

 

“Why is it so white…”

 

Were all Omega’s skin this pale and smooth?

 

Failing to maintain his usual proper image, his brain short-circuited, and he said, “They say when the skin is this fair, everything else is pink too. I think that’s a myth. Want to let me check?”

 

Shui Que: “?”

 

He blinked slowly.

 

Then, as realization struck, he abandoned his phone entirely and burrowed himself completely under the blanket.

 

The whole sequence of movements happened too fast. Just as the phone tumbled onto the bed screen-down, the last thing Xie Xiangxun saw on the screen was the single tuft of hair sticking out from under the covers.

 

The WeChat call hadn’t ended, and the speaker was still stubbornly transmitting sound.

 

“Wait, I was just talking nonsense! Don’t be mad! You’ll suffocate under there!”

 

Was this guy a pervert?

 

Why was he so concerned about whether someone else was pink or not?

 

Didn’t he have his own to check?!

 

Shui Que’s fingertips trembled as he stayed buried under the covers, hurriedly buttoning up his sleepwear, wishing he could sew the entire thing shut.

 

Only after making sure no skin was exposed—so he wouldn’t give that guy even the slightest benefit—did he reach out and mercilessly end the video call. The last thing Xie Xiangxun saw in the camera was a puffed-up, angry little face.

 

Damn it!

 

How could someone be this cute even when they were mad?!

 

Xie Xiangxun was so overwhelmed that he slammed his fist on the table, making the nearby decorations shake from the impact.

 

You’re doomed, Xie Xiangxun.

 

You can think someone is beautiful or handsome, but the moment you genuinely decide that someone is cute, you’re finished. No matter what they do, you’ll love them to death.

 

But the most urgent thing now was apologizing to the little streamer he had just pissed off.

 

Xiang Xun: I’m sorry.

 

Xiang Xun: I was talking nonsense.

 

Xiang Xun: I didn’t think before I spoke.

 

Xiang Xun: Don’t be mad. You’re still sick. Getting upset isn’t good for your health.

 

With each message, he followed up with a massive transfer of money.

 

Shui Que didn’t want to deal with him at the moment, but he also couldn’t resist the allure of soft rice point (the financial equivalent of fan support). He honestly clicked “accept” one by one.

 

Even though the soft rice conversion rate cut off four zeros from the actual amount, it was still a significant increase.

 

Seeing that Shui Que had accepted the transfers, Xie Xiangxun let out a sigh of relief.

 

Good.

 

He still liked his money. And his money belonged to him. By that logic, that meant the little streamer liked him, too.

 

Xie Xiangxun consoled himself with this delusional reasoning, the perfect dreamboy self-justification.

 

Xiang Xun: I see your IP is in Haicheng. Are you from Haicheng too, Shui Shui?

 

Xiang Xun: Where do you live?

 

What do you mean?

 

Shui Que felt nervous. Could this guy be regretting the transaction? Was he looking to settle things in person?

 

He replied: No, I’m just visiting Haicheng.

 

Xiang Xun: Aren’t you from Haicheng?

 

Shui Que: Just visiting.

 

Xiang Xun: Where are you visiting? I can introduce you to some old, well-known shops nearby.

 

Shui Que: Haicheng.

 

“……”

 

Even if Xie Xiangxun were an idiot, he’d realize by now that Shui Que was deliberately brushing him off, and doing it quite petulantly at that.

 

Xiangxun: Okay, okay, don’t be mad. I won’t bother you anymore. Sleep early.

 

Xiangxun: I won’t say things like that again in the future. Will you still take my video calls?

 

Shui Que simply ignored him and decisively locked his screen.

 

The ever-lingering Observer:

 

[That’s not right.]

 

[Based on Song Shui Que’s persona, he would’ve immediately proven that wasn’t a rumor.]

 

[A gold-digging, weak-willed Alpha wouldn’t even be able to refuse a request for nude chats, right?]

 

[But don’t worry, I won’t deduct points from my dear’s character setting.]

 

Not only was the entire mission process monitored by the Observer, but part of the final evaluation and scoring also came from them.

 

Shui Que was so startled that he curled up completely under his blanket like a silkworm cocoon.

 

[You always say such excessive things.]

 

He pursed his lips and decisively typed: [Ten-day mute penalty.]

 

That was a rule in live streams—moderators would issue a mute punishment for accounts that disrupted order.

 

Shui Que was just saying it, though. After all, Observers belonged to an independent department and were ranked far above regular employees like him. He didn’t actually expect them to comply.

 

The Overseer simply said, [I will follow your orders.]

 

In the next moment, System 77 appeared in its place, affectionately nuzzling against its host’s cheek. [You worked hard today too. Good night, dear host.]

 

Shui Que slept well, passing the night without dreams until morning.  

 

Perhaps Wei Qing’s medical skills were truly remarkable—aside from the first day of his susceptible period, his pheromone levels remained remarkably stable.  

 

Shui Que noticed that Qu Jiuchao had started avoiding him.  

 

It became evident in how rarely Qu Jiuchao appeared in his daily life—almost never.  

 

Their classrooms were already separated by an entire floor, and if Qu Jiuchao hadn’t come looking for him so frequently before, their chances of running into each other would have been slim to begin with.  

 

“After the monthly exams,” Lu Fengchi said while helping Shui Que set up the exam room, “let’s spend a day at Qingyue Villa. What do you think?”  

 

Qingyue Villa was a resort-like place on the outskirts of Haicheng, nestled between mountains and the sea. The scenery was breathtaking, and the head chef’s dishes were said to be divine.  

 

The boys were much quicker at arranging desks and chairs. By the time Shui Que had only moved two sets, Lu Fengchi had already set up half the classroom.  

 

Leaning against a desk behind him, Lu Fengchi hesitated before adding, “It won’t be just the two of us. Chen Jian and the others will be coming too.”

 

Omegas usually wouldn’t agree so easily to spend an entire day out alone with an Alpha, right?  

 

With no other choice, Lu Fengchi had to invite a few others along as well.  

 

Having some Betas in the group would make things feel more balanced.  

 

Shui Que didn’t hesitate much before agreeing. “Sounds good.”  

 

Since he wasn’t making any progress in his storyline with Qu Jiuchao, he might as well shift his focus and try advancing things with Lu Fengchi instead.  

 

The last exam was biology, which lasted until after six in the evening. The seating arrangement had been randomized, and by sheer coincidence, Qu Jiuchao ended up sitting behind Shui Que.  

 

But the two of them didn’t make any eye contact. Even when it was time to hand in their papers and leave the exam room, there was no interaction between them.  

 

Late autumn brought early nights—by six o’clock, the sky was already pitch-black. Streetlights flickered on one by one, illuminating the paths below.  

 

The egg-flower trees in the greenery zone downstairs had been neglected for too long, with their branches extending into the second-floor corridor.  

 

Pale yellow and white petals lay scattered on the floor.  

 

Shui Que was still holding onto his frustration. On purpose, he quickened his pace, brushing past Qu Jiuchao’s shoulder and heading straight downstairs.  

 

For three days in a row, the monthly exams had been held under dreary, overcast skies. The sunshine everyone had been yearning for always seemed just within reach, yet still unattainable.  

 

The prolonged exposure to the inky scent of printed test papers left people feeling irritable and stifled. Fortunately, this Saturday promised clear, sunny weather.  

 

Shui Que left home a little late. Upon hearing that he was going out with friends, Aunt Wu and Uncle Chen packed an entire backpack full of snacks, fruits, and other miscellaneous items for him—just in case.  

 

It felt as though they were sending off a child on his very first autumn field trip.  

 

Song Qin helped him carry the bag to the car.  

 

“Come back early.” Song Qin glanced at his watch—he had a meeting at the company later and wouldn’t be able to personally drop Shui Que off.  

 

Gently tucking the strands of hair peeking out from under Shui Que’s cap behind his ear, he said, “Have fun.”  

 

By the lake beside the mountain, birds chirped melodiously in the stillness of the morning. Under a large umbrella set up on the gravel shore, a small group of people lounged lazily, waiting.  

 

This time of year, Haicheng’s weather was neither too hot nor too cold. The streets had practically become a showcase for all four seasons—people wore anything from short sleeves to coats, creating a colorful mix.  

 

Free from the constraints of their school uniforms, the group sported an assortment of outfits—some in T-shirts and shorts, others in hoodies or jackets.  

 

Lu Fengchi, who hated the heat, had left home early in the morning when it was still cool. By now, as the temperature rose, he had grown uncomfortable. His shirt was worn carelessly, with the top two buttons undone, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  

 

His forearms, lean and muscular, were exposed as he calmly prepared the fishing gear.  

 

“I’m here!”

 

Shui Que arrived late, running towards them in a hurry.  

 

Lu Fengchi instinctively turned around. Shui Que was dashing toward them, his vest—a striking mix of turmeric yellow and olive green—layered over a crisp white shirt.  

 

His beige cloud-patterned eight-panel cap bounced with each step, unable to fully contain his soft, tousled black hair.  

 

He wore loose knee-length denim shorts, with white knitted socks scrunched up to cover most of his calves. His pale skin was smooth, without a hint of pigmentation, and his knees had a faint pinkish hue.  

 

He had run too fast. By the time he skidded to a stop, he was slightly out of breath, hands resting on his knees, his face flushed like a puff of powder.  

 

Lu Fengchi’s hand trembled—and he accidentally cast his fishing hook straight into the lake.  

 

Carrying a bucket of bait from the storage shed, Chen Jian exclaimed in shock, “Brother Lu, what’s the rush? You didn’t even put the bait on yet?!”  

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Huge shoutout to @candycorns2 on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.

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