Chapter 3

Transmigration Diary 3
It had to be her hearing.
Her English was truly awful.
That was what Wen Shiyu told herself.
Ha—who mishears something like that!
Yet the bodyguards closing in did not look like a joke.
Cefalina wiped her eyes, lifted her head, forced the tears back.
“Wen Shiyu, don’t think you’ve won,” she said.
“I’ll make you pay for what you did—you’ll regret it!”
Wen Shiyu: “No—there must be some misunderstanding—”
“Take her!” Cefalina turned away and ordered the guards.
Two tall Alpha bodyguards stepped forward and, with no room to refuse, “escorted” Wen Shiyu into a pure black stretch sedan.
Not even the same car as Cefalina.
Wen Shiyu had no choice but to shut up.
The black limousine was huge inside, windows covered with dark tint that blocked every outside glance—perfect for kidnapping and murder, really.
The two Alpha guards facing her sat like mountains. Whatever she said, they stayed silent.
Wen Shiyu: “……”
Help.
What kind of day was this!
After who knew how long, the car stopped smoothly.
A guard opened the door.
Before her rose an estate grand as a castle—massive wrought-iron gates that seemed to pierce the sky.
A gold-on-blue lion crest looked down from above, cold light glinting off it.
The Cavendish family emblem.
The novel had painted this house’s power in wild strokes—since the sixteenth century, “the power behind kings.” Members everywhere in politics, military, even academia; kings who had to watch their tone.
A family that stood centuries could only stand on bones. That gold-and-blue lion meant force under royal protection.
Wen Shiyu had scoffed when she read it. Seeing it now, cold sweat broke out.
She was led through a flawless front garden, down a corridor hung with huge classical oils, up a spiraling marble staircase—
Finally into a bright, spacious parlor.
Waiting was not Cefalina but an older couple.
A butler at their side bowed and introduced them: Mr. and Mrs. Cavendish.
Wen Shiyu blinked.
Cefalina’s parents??
The father sat in the place of honor—exceptionally tall and straight, oppressive even seated.
The mother at his side faintly echoed Cefalina’s looks, but colder, sharper—an iceberg under a thousand years of frost.
Both were top-tier Alpha and Omega.
Wen Shiyu had never imagined the misunderstanding could run this deep.
She drew breath to speak. “Mr. Cavendish, Mrs. Cavendish, I—”
To her surprise the icy Mrs. Cavendish stepped forward and took both her hands.
And smiled.
“Miss Wen, please sit.” Her voice was gentler than she looked, elegant accent.
“You must be tired from the trip. Tea?”
“Huh? No—no thanks—”
Wen Shiyu sat stiffly on the sofa. The lady actually poured tea for her with courtesy.
Meanwhile a mild middle-aged man stepped up and bowed slightly to the Cavendishes.
Mrs. Cavendish introduced him: “This is Dr. Frank, the family medical advisor.”
Wen Shiyu was lost at first. As the doctor explained, her eyes grew wider.
So rabbit-type Omegas could also……
“False pregnancy?”
“Yes.” Dr. Frank nodded.
“After Miss Cefalina’s unexpected heat episode, extreme pheromone fluctuation plus specific stimulus triggered a rare ‘pseudocyesis’ syndrome.
Among rabbit-trait Omegas it’s uncommon but documented.”
“Right now Miss Cefalina’s mind and body fully believe she is pregnant. She will go on to experience a full range of pregnancy symptoms.”
Wen Shiyu went blank.
She looked at the Cavendishes. They did not look surprised—they had known.
They also knew Cefalina firmly believed this “child” was Wen Shiyu’s.
Wen Shiyu gasped and rushed to explain: “But I never—”
Nothing had happened between them!
Dr. Frank cut in, gentle and professional.
“Miss Wen, we know you’re a Beta—you cannot get an Omega pregnant. We believe nothing happened between you and our daughter.
But pseudocyesis has many triggers: strong suggestion, pheromone confusion, extreme stress.”
“Miss Cefalina’s condition is very special and fragile.
We’ve discussed many treatments. None are safe.
Forcing the false pregnancy to end with drugs could permanently damage her glands from sudden hormone swings.
Telling her the baby is gone—or that she was never pregnant—could cause trauma: depression, identity disorder.
The safest, least harmful path is to let the process run its course until her body ‘completes’ the cycle and she realizes on her own she was never truly pregnant.”
Wen Shiyu still had not caught up when Mrs. Isabella finally spoke, slow and calm.
“So…… we need your help, Miss Wen.”
What did that mean?
Wen Shiyu still could not believe it. “But Cefalina hates me.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Mrs. Isabella said:
“Because your relationship is…… not good—open conflict, in fact—in a way that may actually be ‘helpful.’”
Wen Shiyu did not understand.
Dr. Frank went on: “If the ‘partner’ in her mind makes her feel resistant, unhappy, that negative emotion may push her subconscious to reject the ‘pregnancy’ state faster—helping her wake from pseudocyesis sooner.”
Mrs. Cavendish nodded. “We only need you, when necessary, to play along with what she believes—and absolutely keep this secret.”
Wen Shiyu fell silent. She was starting to see.
The doctor had examined Cefalina and knew nothing had happened.
This was not a trial—it was a quiet deal.
She weighed fast, grasping for leverage.
“Mrs. Cavendish, of course I’d help a classmate—but I may withdraw from school soon. I might not be able to—”
“Miss Wen, don’t worry about tuition.” Mrs. Isabella cut in the instant she paused.
“If you cooperate as needed, Saint Winsor fees and reasonable living costs at school will not be a problem.”
Of course—they had looked her up and found her weakest point.
Wen Shiyu really had no room to refuse.
Luckily their goal matched hers.
Her biggest problem really was tuition heavy enough to crush her.
Play along, keep it secret, and she would get funding.
She did not want anyone knowing she and Cefalina were tied this way anyway.
She knew how many admirers Cefalina had.
If the school learned she had gotten the it-girl “pregnant”—disaster.
By graduation Cefalina would be fine. She could go home and leave this twisted plot behind.
A pretty clean solution.
Wen Shiyu was almost satisfied—wondering if she could negotiate a few more safeguards—
Urgent knocks at the door, then Cefalina’s clearly anxious voice:
“Father, Mother! This is my business—I can handle it myself. You don’t need to step in!”
The butler looked to Mrs. Cavendish; at her barely visible nod he opened the door.
Cefalina strode in. She had tidied herself, but loose strands and red in her eyes still showed recent upset.
“Cefalina.” Mrs. Isabella spoke first—gentle but immovable. “You cannot keep this child.”
Cefalina stiffened almost invisibly but did not answer the command. Her eyes found Wen Shiyu.
“Come with me.”
Wen Shiyu glanced at the Cavendishes and Dr. Frank. She understood.
Everyone had to act.
She breathed in quietly, stood, and followed Cefalina out of the parlor.
Cefalina pulled her down the same floor to a smaller study and slammed the door.
Wen Shiyu had barely taken in the décor when Cefalina turned and said suddenly:
“I won’t abort.”
Wen Shiyu looked back, startled.
“Of course I won’t forget how you wronged me! You’ll pay for everything—but,”
She paused. “I’ve decided to keep this child.”
She turned her face aside; a faint flush spread on pale cheeks, expression unreadable. One hand unconsciously rested on her flat belly.
Window light caught her lowered pale-gold hair—almost gentle, almost holy, a glow like motherhood.
Wen Shiyu stared, speechless.
Soon Cefalina seemed to gather strength—or raise spikes again. She stepped forward and ordered Wen Shiyu:
“As part of your atonement, you will cooperate with me. Understood?”
When Wen Shiyu did not answer at once, Cefalina frowned, voice rising: “Answer!”
Wen Shiyu’s throat tightened.
She wanted to say the whole thing was absurd—she had done nothing!
Every excuse rolled on her tongue; thinking of tuition, she swallowed them all.
“……Fine.”
Wen Shiyu rubbed her forehead, exhaled, and meant it.
“Cefalina, I really never thought it would come to this. In the dining hall I only…… wanted to help.”
She paused. “Now…… I still want to help.”
In Cefalina’s “memory” Wen Shiyu had been forceful and urgent—ignoring her repeated refusals while she was weak from heat, making her cry…… a complete bastard.
Now playing the good person.
Still, Wen Shiyu agreeing without threats eased Cefalina’s tension a little.
She set her face stern again. “I only need you for now. This child will have nothing to do with you later.”
“……Of course.” Wen Shiyu nodded.
Cefalina studied her, frowned, sniffed—suspicious of this sudden meekness—but said nothing more. She just stood there waiting.
Wen Shiyu did not know what for and stood too.
Cefalina looked at her again; her ears reddened.
“What are you waiting for?”
“Huh?”
They stared at each other, blank.
Cefalina clenched her teeth, growing angrier. She stamped once, voice low, humiliated.
“Release your pheromones……”