Question 1: What are your views on relationships between weak Alphas and strong Omegas these days?
Question 2: As a top-tier Alpha, do you feel that top Alphas have less resilience than other groups? For instance, due to their inherently aloof personalities and unwillingness to humble themselves, or because they’re too proud for their own good, leading to major negative impacts when dealing with clients?
Question 3: Have you ever been in a stable romantic relationship, such as a secret crush—either yours or someone else’s—or an official one? How long did it last? What was your partner like? What drew you to them?
Question 4: What does your ideal romance look like?
Question 5: What are your requirements for a future partner?
Question 6: Is there someone in your heart you can’t forget? What are they like? Could that relationship undergo a fundamental change emotionally—like evolving into love, or drifting into complete estrangement?
Question 7: What are your thoughts on settling down and starting a family?
Question 8: Do you like children?
Question 9: What do you think of open sexual relationships?
Question 10: Has there ever been an unexpected sexual encounter in your life? If it happened again, would you choose to go through with it?
…
A sprawling list of twenty questions. It felt less like a job interview and more like a matchmaking site.
Lu Zhixia answered with complete sincerity. For the tenth question, she admitted she’d recently had sex with someone, but if given the chance again, she wouldn’t let it happen—she’d nip it in the bud from the start.
By the end of the interview, Lu Zhixia’s throat was parched.
She rode the subway home, standing by the doors as she reflected on the whole process.
Haijing Senhua’s interview had been entirely professional overall—except for that last interviewer and her bizarre questions.
Out of politeness, Lu Zhixia hadn’t raised any objections, but she couldn’t make sense of it.
She wasn’t the only one. The three other interviewers alongside her were equally baffled.
Wen Wan in particular—she was Rhine Group’s pioneer and head of the Asia-Pacific Region—couldn’t wrap her head around it. “Forgive me, but I fail to see how these questions relate to this interview.”
“If you can’t understand it, then don’t,” Shen Wanqing replied.
“…”
“I’ll submit the interview summary report on time. I’m signing off now.” Shen Wanqing removed her earphones and leaned back in her chair to rest.
Her phone buzzed with a call from Wen Wan alone.
Shen Wanqing frowned and picked up. Before the other woman could speak, she cut in: “No rule says an interview has to follow a certain format. If you doubt my abilities, then don’t use me.”
Wen Wan drew a deep breath on the other end, as if about to respond, but Shen Wanqing closed her eyes and continued, “In the future, outside of essential work matters, I’d appreciate fewer calls. They disrupt my personal life.”
Wen Wan didn’t even get a chance to speak before Shen Wanqing said coolly, “Sorry, I have another call coming in,” and hung up.
Wen Wan stared at her disconnected call, at a complete loss for words.
It was her father’s call this time. Shen Wanqing answered and set it to speaker, placing it aside. Shen Tingyun spoke up first: “Did I interrupt you?”
“It’s fine. Go ahead.”
After their marriage, Shen Tingyun had planned a trip to Africa, with no set return date.
His goal was to track endangered wildlife in harsh conditions rife with disease.
In short, it was extremely dangerous.
Shen Wanqing listened to his slow, measured words from the other end as she reached up to rub around the gland at the back of her neck.
Ever since Lu Zhixia had left, she’d been suppressing it through sheer force of will. It was exhausting, mentally draining, and left her increasingly irritated.
“If you want to go, then go.” Shen Wanqing’s tone was flat, coming across as heartless and detached. “You never told me about your trips before, so no need now.”
There was a long silence on Shen Tingyun’s end before he murmured, “Are you still holding it against me?”
“Heh.” Shen Wanqing laughed, a sound laced with helplessness. “Mr. Shen, you don’t sound too happy yourself.”
“Neither do you.”
Shen Wanqing finished rubbing her neck and moved to the gland around her earlobe, her voice level. “At least one of us should be happy, don’t you think?”
Shen Tingyun apologized, but Shen Wanqing furrowed her brow. “Apologies mean nothing and change even less. I’ve already sacrificed myself, so please—just live the life you want and do what you want. Don’t put on that guilty act to torment me. I’ve done everything the Shen Family asked of me, but I’m not a child anymore. I need to think about myself. I can’t live as the family’s puppet like you do. I won’t stop fighting.”
It was rare for Shen Wanqing to speak so much at once, let alone bare her true feelings.
“Wanqing.”
“And the marriage to Yan Fanghua—that was Grandpa’s idea too, wasn’t it?”
Shen Tingyun’s silence felt like tacit agreement.
Shen Wanqing let out a self-mocking laugh. “Figures…” She shook her head helplessly. “Stay lost in your own world then. I’ll handle the fallout.”
“I…”
“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. I’ll stay in touch with Yan Fanghua.” Shen Wanqing finished rubbing her ear, her hand hovering over her own chest. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Her body had its sensitive spots, and she knew exactly where to touch to make her feel it.
The Ambergris Pheromone lingered heavily in the room. Her awakened gland was propped up only by the lingering fumes, keeping her from tumbling into a frenzied heat period.
“Anything else?” Shen Wanqing asked.
“If there’s something I can do for you, please tell me.”
“You think there is?”
“Sorry.” Shen Tingyun said softly, “I’m useless to you. You’re excellent in every other way.”
Shen Wanqing stayed silent. She’d heard enough of that.
“I told Grandpa this is the last time. I won’t do any more arranged marriages.” Shen Tingyun’s voice grew low. “I also told him to stop meddling in your life as much as possible, including your stepmother…”
“Mr. Shen, I don’t want to hear this.”
“Mm. I just wanted to say, I’ve looked into it this time. Fanghua and Zhixia are both good people. Nothing weird will happen…”
“Mr. Shen.” Shen Wanqing cut him off. “Travel safely.” She paused, then added, “Even in an arranged marriage, you should keep up appearances at least. Don’t send me the photos anymore. Send them to Yan Fanghua.”
Shen Wanqing hung up the phone, and the wild scenes from that night flashed through her mind.
The process of sealing her gland had been exhausting. She’d told herself over and over not to rush it, but she’d rushed anyway.
Shen Wanqing opened WeChat. Her chat with Lu Zhixia was still paused from last time.
She hadn’t taken the 200,000 and had sent it back.
All of this was within Shen Wanqing’s expectations.
But there was one thing that wasn’t. This time, her heat period seemed to be coming early.
She couldn’t be sure it would hit yet, but the warning signs were there.
Her body burned hot. Ants seemed to crawl around her gland, itching fiercely. The beast of desire buried deep in her heart was clawing at its cage.
Time passed steadily, without hurry.
Lu Zhixia was waiting for the final word on her Haijing Senhua interview. She couldn’t stand staying cooped up at home, and Yan Fanghua didn’t need her help.
In the meantime, she fell back on her old “side gig.”
Debt collection.
It didn’t sound like a job for ordinary folks.
And it wasn’t. The main reason Lu Zhixia could collect debts was her father’s old connections—most of them from the shadier side of things.
Of course, her initial contact with them hadn’t been just for collections. She had some things she wanted to look into.
When one of her father’s friends got jumped, she’d stumbled on it and jumped in to help.
That led to a partnership. She’d tag along on their collection runs and get her cut.
Unlike the others—who’d started out swinging fists—Lu Zhixia was the brains of the operation, backed by a ruthless streak.
Today’s mark was a big-shot company boss. A good-looking omega with money in the bank but no intention of paying up.
Lu Zhixia dressed to the nines and waited downstairs.
A luxury car pulled up, and her crew buzzed. “Big Boss, here she comes!”
“You lot, hang back,” Lu Zhixia ordered quietly. She stood, cracking her knuckles, ready for action—then froze as a very familiar face stepped out of the car.
Was the deadbeat Shen Wanqing?
Shen Wanqing blinked in surprise. Before she could react, Lu Zhixia whipped something out of her pocket and shook it wildly in her face. “Shen Wanqing! Never thought you’d stoop this low. You’d better… hey, hey!”
Shen Wanqing pinched her ear with pinpoint precision and ruthless force. Lu Zhixia yelped in pain. “Ow, take it easy!”
A crowd of onlookers had gathered behind them. The new guys—who’d only heard tales of the Big Boss’s fearsome rep—muttered and shoved. “What’s going on? Huh? What’s the Big Boss doing? Lemme see her in action!”
They finally shoved to the front and fell silent. One gawked in disbelief. “Is the Big Boss… getting her ear twisted?”
“Uh… yeah…”
“Who’s this chick? Dares to twist the Big Boss’s ear?”
“Either the wife or the mom.”
“This mom’s way too hot… Ow, why’d you hit me?”
“You’re an idiot. Gotta be the wife.”
…
Her crew encircled them, watching the spectacle. Shen Wanqing gave the ear a shake and said coolly, “Try getting mouthy with me again?”
