Chapter 1
Late July.
Blistering sunlight scorched the rural outskirts of Chuancheng. Bai Ye sat at her desk, staring out the window. The boundless fields outside were lifeless; even the air seemed to ripple with heat, as if it were being roasted alive. It was unbearably hot.
She sat still, dazed, eyes fixed on the distance. Her long hair draped messily over her shoulders, a pen between her lips. Her posture was slouched and careless. But she was beautiful—an exquisitely pretty twelve-year-old girl. Her cheeks were delicate, her skin pale, and her eyes were a rare golden color, their irises patterned in concentric radiating lines. Even though her sitting posture was rough, she looked like a porcelain doll.
“Bai Ye.”
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. A woman’s gentle voice came from outside.
Bai Ye snapped out of her daze. She quickly ran her fingers through her tangled hair, leapt off her chair, and dashed to the door. She checked her reflection in the mirror behind it—making sure her clothes were tidy and she didn’t look sloppy—before putting on a bright smile and opening the door.
“Mama? What is it?”
Outside, the woman wore a sundress, a sunhat, and sunglasses—clearly dressed for an outing. Bai Ye subtly bit her lip, her eyes dimming.
The woman didn’t notice her disappointment and said softly, “Bai Ye, your father and I are taking Xiaoyue to summer camp. You…”
She paused, looked at the girl’s bowed head, then softened. “…Do you want to come with us?”
Her tone rose at the end, breath unsteady—she clearly didn’t want Bai Ye to agree.
At that moment, a shrill cry came from the next room:
“Nooo! Mommy, I don’t want Bai Ye to come with me to summer camp! No! Way!”
A girl slightly shorter than Bai Ye ran out and clung to the woman’s leg, glaring at Bai Ye with hatred. The girl wore her hair in twin ponytails and a pretty little dress—unlike Bai Ye, who was dressed casually in a T-shirt and shorts.
Bai Ye glanced up at the woman’s face. The sunglasses hid her expression, but she was clearly embarrassed.
“No need.” Bai Ye beamed sweetly before the woman could speak, taking a step back. “I won’t go. I’m starting middle school soon. I’ll just stay home and study. Mama, Xiaoyue, have fun.”
Just then, their father’s voice called from downstairs.
The woman let out a breath of relief, smiled faintly at Bai Ye, and left, holding the little girl’s hand. As they reached the stairway corner, the girl turned to shoot Bai Ye a vicious glare and made a face at her.
Bai Ye didn’t react. She smiled and waved, then closed the door behind her.
Leaning against it, she let out a long sigh.
When she returned to her desk, she looked out the window just in time to see the family of three dragging their luggage, getting into their SUV, and driving off down the rural road until they disappeared from sight.
Bai Ye slumped over the desk, chin propped on her arm, long lashes drooping. She felt completely drained.
She wasn’t their biological child. She was adopted.
Her adoptive parents were city businesspeople who had made a decent sum and were considered wealthy in the countryside. At some point, they had apparently consulted a fortune-teller, who told them adopting a child would boost their fortune1. So, they went to the orphanage and picked her—mainly because of her beautiful golden eyes, which they thought were lucky. They didn’t even mind that she was older.
Bai Ye grew up in the orphanage. She had been adopted before, but was returned for being “too lively.” That happened again and again, until at age eleven, she met this family.
She knew she was older and harder to place, so she was deeply grateful to them. She never misbehaved or acted out. She always tried to be obedient, careful, and pleasing—afraid of being sent away again. But even after a year, she still didn’t fit in.
Her adoptive parents were polite but distant, like they wouldn’t care if she was there or not. Her younger sister saw her as a rival for love and resented her bitterly. She’d cry and whine in front of the parents, even falsely accusing Bai Ye of things.
Though Bai Ye never once fought back and always gave in, it only made things worse. The girl became even more aggressive, crying, throwing tantrums, lying about her. Gradually, the parents became biased against Bai Ye.
They never said it outright, but Bai Ye could feel it.
They locked up all the rooms and cabinets when they left, avoided talking around her, even installed a security camera in the master bedroom…
The bias pierced her like needles, making her entire body ache.
And today… was her twelfth birthday. When the orphanage found her, she had a small wooden tag with her name—Bai Ye—and birthdate: July 23. They had told her adoptive parents.
She didn’t know if they’d forgotten, or just didn’t care.
…Not that it made a difference.
“Mm…” Bai Ye lay slumped for a while, then stretched and bounced back to her feet, energy restored.
Forget it. A rare day home alone—why dwell on unhappy things? Time to have fun! She skipped downstairs and out of the two-story house, grabbed her basket, and ran toward the woods on the far side of the field, full of energy.
Picking mulberries, playing in the stream, then back to grab some veggies and make lunch…! Under the blazing sun, the little girl darted through the fields like a nimble creature. Sweat slid down her pale neck, but she didn’t seem to feel the heat, leaping nimbly here and there.
She played outside for a while, then returned home with a full basket of mulberries, munching on them as she went, her lips stained dark. Her eyes sparkled with light and mischief—a stark contrast to the cautious, obedient girl from earlier.
By the time she got back, it was noon. Her adoptive parents’ courtyard had a small vegetable garden. Bai Ye didn’t go to the fields; she just picked some vegetables from the yard to make lunch.
When she stopped moving, the heat finally hit her.
Her skin was red and burning. It hurt. Her skin was naturally pale and didn’t tan—it just burned. But she was used to it and didn’t pay much attention. She crouched down to pick vegetables.
Sunlight scorched the back of her neck.
The moment she squatted, dizziness hit. Her basket full of mulberries felt like it was filled with iron, weighing down her back. Her stomach churned with nausea, and her skin burned inside and out.
It felt like heatstroke—but worse.
…Strange.
Bai Ye blinked in confusion. She’d always been healthy, hardly ever sick. Even when she did catch something, she’d recover quickly, no medicine needed. She had never felt this suddenly awful before. She figured she’d scrape her skin2 later and feel better.
But when she stood, the world went black. Everything spun. Her skin felt like it was on fire. Her body—especially her lower abdomen—hurt like hell. The pain overwhelmed her so completely she couldn’t even make a sound.
It hurt so much…
Bai Ye collapsed in the garden. Her basket spilled, mulberries scattered. The blazing sun beat down on her skin. Her entire body flushed an unnatural red.
A scent—mint and a hint of alcohol—began to spread from the courtyard. It was a fragrance only alphas and omegas could smell. Normally gentle, it now surged out fiercely, oppressively powerful…
When Bai Ye woke again, it was already dusk.
She opened her eyes weakly. Everything around her was white. Noises buzzed around her, and a pungent mix of disinfectant and suppressant filled her nose. She was lying in a hospital bed.
She barely opened her eyes—consciousness not fully returned—yet her body still hurt. Burning pain from the heart to the brain. No strength, only discomfort.
She had never felt pain like this. It felt like dying. Her throat was dry and sore—she couldn’t even speak.
The frail little girl’s eyes brimmed red, tears slipping from the corners. Her skin was flushed an unhealthy red, mixed with sunburns. She looked pitiful.
Amid the pain, she vaguely heard voices.
“Zhao-ge, finally! I’ve been calling all afternoon…” The doctor spoke casually—this was a rural clinic and everyone knew each other. “Hey, it’s Bai Ye—you know, the adopted girl. She just underwent secondary gender differentiation. It was intense. You guys in the city? Think you can come back?”
It was her adoptive father, Zhao Gang. He hesitated: “We… might not be able to leave. Why did Xiao Ye differentiate so early? Alpha or omega?”
Among alpha, beta, and omega, beta’s glands are the weakest—he ruled that out immediately.
Though 12–16 was the usual differentiation window, Bai Ye had changed right on her twelfth birthday—early, but not unheard of.
“She’s an alpha,” the doctor sighed. “You know alphas react strongly. The kid collapsed at your doorstep—sunburned, too. It was awful… Good thing Auntie Li found her and brought her here.”
“Alpha, huh…” Zhao Gang’s voice dropped—he seemed to be discussing it with his wife.
The hospital was noisy. The doctor had it on speakerphone. Zhao Xiaoyue’s crying came through clearly:
“Nooo! You promised to stay with me! If you go home, I’ll never talk to you again!”
Then came the soft cooing of her parents, soothing her.
The doctor frowned helplessly.
Soon, Zhao Gang returned to the call:
“Ah, well, she’s an Alpha anyway—tough-skinned and strong, no need to spoil her too much… Differentiation is painful, sure, I’ve gone through it too, but once it’s over, she’ll bounce back full of energy, like a dragon and tiger3, right, Dr. Wang?”
His voice came through broken and distant to Bai Ye.
His tone was calm and gentle—but Bai Ye could hear the indifference.
The doctor hung up and went back to work.
The noise continued.
Bai Ye lay there, utterly alone. Like the whole world had abandoned her.
Her body still throbbed with unbearable pain. Her mind was in a haze. Tears kept leaking from her eyes. She suddenly remembered all the times she’d watched her orphanage friends get adopted—one by one—while she remained behind. Then, when she was finally taken in again, she tried so hard but could never truly belong, always feeling like a burden…
The physical and emotional pain tangled together. Twelve-year-old Bai Ye didn’t know how to handle it—only that it hurt, unbearably.
If only she weren’t an orphan. If she could have a loving family, act out when she wanted, do whatever she liked, and still be loved by her parents… that would be enough.
Suddenly—
The pain vanished. The noise fell silent. The pungent smells disappeared, replaced by a gentle fragrance. Even the hard bed softened beneath her—like she was sinking into it.
Bai Ye opened her eyes.
A beautiful woman appeared before her, holding her tightly with visible concern.
“Manman! You’re finally awake! How’s your body? Are you feeling sick?”
Her voice was tender to the bone.
Bai Ye froze.
T/N:
1 旺財運 (wàng cáiyùn) – a feng shui or superstition term for improving luck with money
2 刮痧 (guāshā) – a traditional remedy involving scraping the skin to release “heat” or toxins
3 生龍活虎 (shēnglóng huóhǔ) – “vibrant like a dragon and tiger.” A traditional idiom for full of energy or vigorous recovery (here it’s is used to downplay Bai Ye’s suffering)
Baihe Fan 
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