Chapter 5

Transmigration Diary 5
Su Yan looked at Cefalina beside her, lips parting as if to ask something.
But Cefalina’s gaze stayed on Wen Shiyu. She swallowed the question.
Under every eye Wen Shiyu had no choice.
She picked up her plate, crossed half the dining hall through a wall of stares, and climbed to the second-floor loft.
Only when Wen Shiyu stood before her did Cefalina look away and glance at the empty seat opposite. “Sit.”
“……”
Wen Shiyu sat.
Whispers almost broke free.
Why would Cefalina call Wen Shiyu over? She never bothered with her before.
By the old script Wen Shiyu always started the fights.
Strangely, once seated face to face, both fell silent.
Cefalina continued breakfast. Wen Shiyu pinched dry bread, quiet as stone.
Had Cefalina suddenly forgiven her?
Her expression toward Wen Shiyu was cold—no offer to share food.
“I get it! A smarter humiliation—make Wen Shiyu sit before real heaven’s chosen, see the gap between cloud and mud, taste that suffocating distance, and shrink in silence!”
Many onlookers nodded, sure they had decoded the depth.
Yet the four at one table—beautiful Cefalina, handsome Su Yan, quirky Charlotte, and Wen Shiyu, bare-faced, unexpectedly prettier without makeup—
The scene had a strange harmony, almost too pleasing to look away from.
Was this the academy’s beauty F4 in full form?
Some shook their heads hard, startled by the thought.
No, no—Wen Shiyu did not belong with the other three!
Wen Shiyu did not know what they thought. She was not ashamed.
But she was on pins and needles.
She shifted, looking for an excuse to leave. Cefalina’s eyes cut over.
“……” Wen Shiyu sat still again.
Charlotte blinked gold eyes, scanning between Cefalina and Wen Shiyu.
“Cefalina,” she said suddenly, “have you been unwell these days? You look a little…… pale.”
Cefalina’s fingers on the silver fork tightened almost invisibly.
She could not deny it. “Mm. A little.”
Su Yan’s worry landed at once. “You barely ate last night. Appetite that bad? Try to eat a bit more this morning.”
She pushed a small dish of easier fruit toward Cefalina.
Wen Shiyu kept her eyes down on her pathetic bread slice, as if she could carve flowers from it.
Both were interested in Cefalina in the plot. She would not show any special tie to Cefalina here.
But the air went very quiet.
Wen Shiyu looked up on instinct—and met Cefalina’s gaze.
The girl frowned at her while pushing a bite of fried egg into her mouth and chewing hard.
As if Wen Shiyu were seasoning the meal.
Wen Shiyu: “……?”
Su Yan watched only Cefalina’s eating. Charlotte’s probing gaze stayed on Wen Shiyu longer.
Fortunately Cefalina ate a normal amount for breakfast.
When they finished Wen Shiyu still sat head down.
Cefalina passed on her way out—seemed to slow deliberately, gaze wrapping Wen Shiyu whole, low dissatisfied reminder:
“Six.”
Meaning six at the latest—bring the “solution.”
“……” Hadn’t it been seven before?
Before Wen Shiyu answered Cefalina was already walking at normal pace, gone with her friends as if the pause and whisper never happened.
Some distance away Su Yan finally asked softly:
“Cefalina, if you didn’t want to eat with her, why call her over?”
“Nothing.” Cefalina vaguely covered her belly. She tried to look normal but fine sweat beaded on her forehead.
So miserable. Pregnancy without a partner’s presence was this painful.
With Wen Shiyu beside her she could swallow. Once Wen Shiyu left she almost wanted to vomit again.
So annoying……
……
Six in the afternoon.
Backpack on, hat pulled low over half her face, Wen Shiyu dodged crowds all the way to Cefalina’s dorm building.
Saint Winsor dorms were already luxurious—Wen Shiyu’s single with private bath was comfortable enough.
Cefalina’s was absurd—less dorm than several linked villas.
Wen Shiyu rang the bell. A woman in a white coat opened the door—not Dr. Frank.
The female doctor did not need introduction. She led her to the living room.
“Miss—Wen Shiyu is here.”
Cefalina sat hugging her knees on a wide sofa. Seeing her enter she shifted uncomfortably, face blank.
Up close she was paler than morning— faint blue under her eyes, lips less full.
Wen Shiyu sat on the single sofa opposite.
No small talk. Cefalina cut in, voice faintly weak: “So. Did you think of something.”
Wen Shiyu’s throat was dry. Slowly she took off her bag and, under Cefalina and the doctor’s eyes, pulled out……
Plum wine.
Cefalina’s brow knit; pale eyes full of confusion and displeasure.
“……What is this?”
Wen Shiyu forced herself on. “I need a little alcohol to relax. To…… release pheromones better.”
Cefalina studied her—more suspicion—but perhaps too unwell to fight. She turned away, voice hard:
“……Fine. Hurry.”
“Mm……” Wen Shiyu unscrewed the cap. Sweet plum scent spread at once.
She drank a few mouthfuls, watching Cefalina secretly—only a slight frown.
No sign of “smelling pheromones.”
Plan A failed?
Wen Shiyu pressed her lips together, poured a small cup, pushed it toward Cefalina.
“Maybe…… you drink a little too?”
Cefalina turned back, surprised.
“What are you saying—I’m pregnant.”
“……” Wen Shiyu choked.
Her silence made Cefalina angrier. How could she forget pregnant women do not drink.
Wen Shiyu really did not care!
“Why are you drinking anyway?”
“Uh—to ease the mood—” Wen Shiyu tried again.
“We don’t need mood-easing. This is a deal, Wen Shiyu!”
“I know it’s a deal…… but you’re so aggressive—it’s scary. I can’t relax—”
“Scary?” Cefalina sat straight.
All her life people said “beautiful,” “elegant”—no one had called her scary.
“Yeah,” Wen Shiyu was scraping the bottom of her brain now.
“I already can’t release pheromones well and you’re so pushy…… you don’t act like an Omega at all.”
Cefalina’s face flushed with anger.
“You’re the one who can’t.” No Alpha had ever said she did not act like an Omega!
“Right, I can’t.” Wen Shiyu was oddly calm.
“I can’t release pheromones for you. But I really want this to work! I really do!”
She tipped the rest of the cup back in one go—let dark purple wine run from the corner of her mouth onto her white uniform shirt.
She could smell plum wine on herself now.
Cefalina still had no reaction.
Wen Shiyu was out of ideas.
“Maybe you take one tiny sip—”
Cefalina was speechless with rage—wanted to throw her out.
“I said again—I will not drink. And my patience is limited.”
Just as Cefalina was about to explode Wen Shiyu moved toward her.
Wen Shiyu did not know the plum wine was strong.
She had drunk fast. Now she was getting drunk.
In a hurry she stood, leaned in, face almost at Cefalina’s neck, slurring: “Smell again? Nothing at all?”
Cefalina went rigid—frozen by the sudden closeness.
Another person’s warm, wine-scented breath brushed her neck—strange shiver.
She should shove this rude person away. Her body did not move.
“……No.” Her own voice came dry.
“Really nothing?” Wen Shiyu lifted her head—eyes red from drink, whole body sweet with plum wine.
That anxious look made Cefalina waver. Was it true—a “defect” that blocked pheromone control?
Wen Shiyu gritted her teeth, reached for the bottle again.
“What are you doing?” Cefalina could not stand it— reached to grab the glass.
She underestimated Wen Shiyu’s balance now. Hands touched—Wen Shiyu pitched forward straight into Cefalina’s arms.
Cefalina grunted, hit back against the sofa. Wen Shiyu sprawled on her like an octopus.
Strange weight and warmth through thin cloth—Cefalina’s cheeks and ears burned red. “You! Get up!”
Wen Shiyu seemed unaware she was draped indecently over the academy princess.
Dizzy, she rubbed her bumped forehead, nose unconsciously nuzzling the hollow of Cefalina’s neck, mumbling:
“Smell again…… I can smell peach.”
Cefalina stiffened—heart skipped several beats.
Her pheromone was sweet peach—a secret shame; not quite the Cavendish heiress image. She rarely mentioned it.
Wen Shiyu had to say it out loud. Annoying.
Heat flooded Cefalina’s face. She wanted to scold, shove this drunk off—but no proper words came.
Lately pregnancy and desperate craving for “marking Alpha pheromones” left body and mind in abnormal lack.
Even without active release, close contact with body heat could soothe.
The misery eased a little; tight nerves loosened briefly.
This uncontrollable dependence on the “culprit” was humiliating.
Ears red as blood, fingers clutched Wen Shiyu’s sleeve hard—knuckles white—ready to push.
But…… the push stopped halfway.
Cefalina bit her lip hard, face scarlet, breath unsteady—and finally let go of the hands that would have pushed her away.