A Scummy Alpha and An Award-Winning Omega Actress Fell in Love After an Arranged Marriage - Chapter 27

Sheng Lan was adept at controlling the pace.

The two of them stood in a stalemate, one inside and one outside, and it wasn’t suitable to drag things out any longer.

Moreover, Lu Xueyin was so angry her persona was on the verge of collapsing any longer, and she really would explode.

Her temper was quite something.

Sheng Lan walked toward her. When she was two steps away, Lu Xueyin instinctively retreated.

After taking a step back, she realized this was a sign of fear, of weakness, so she forcefully stopped herself.

But Sheng Lan didn’t retreat. She stepped right up to Lu Xueyin, nearly pressing against her, and then leaned in even closer.

Lu Xueyin’s chest was squeezed, and she shot Sheng Lan a cold glare before reluctantly stepping back again.

Wherever she retreated, Sheng Lan followed.

At some point, a competitive urge had emerged between them, and neither spoke first.

The changing room was so quiet only their footsteps could be heard.

Sheng Lan’s steps were steady, completely unruffled.

Lu Xueyin, initially fueled by anger, stomped heavily to assert dominance.

But as Sheng Lan’s pursuit grew faster, she gradually lost momentum.

Having been Marked twice before, Lu Xueyin knew Sheng Lan wouldn’t actually do anything to her. And with each new Marking, she became more certain Sheng Lan had no real interest in her. So at this moment, she wasn’t afraid just focused on speed, on not falling behind, even if it meant sacrificing something.

Her steps lightened, and it was as if they were dancing a silent waltz.

Chasing, testing, reuniting only to brush past each other again.

Then, just as she was about to flee once more, a hand grabbed hers and pulled her back, an arm wrapping tightly around her waist, drawing her into an embrace.

Sheng Lan didn’t act rashly. She was like a hunter, confining Lu Xueyin’s movements to a tiny space, no more than a meter in radius.

One more step, and she’d crash straight into Sheng Lan.

As if throwing herself into her arms.

Lu Xueyin’s breathing was slightly uneven, unconcerned that the microphone might pick it up.

Yet she still refused to speak, stubbornly meeting Sheng Lan’s gaze.

Even though Sheng Lan was the one who had inexplicably chased her down, wordlessly cornered her, she was the one smiling now, acting as if nothing had happened, demanding Lu Xueyin extend her hand.

Lu Xueyin was wary of her.

Without the demand for Marking, this wariness was a precaution against Sheng Lan’s unpredictability, a fear that she might accidentally step into a trap.

So when Sheng Lan asked for her hand, she instinctively hid it behind her back.

Sheng Lan chuckled again, deliberately Wall slamming her.

Taking advantage of her slight height advantage, she blocked the light from behind, casting shadows over Lu Xueyin’s face and eyes.

A whisper.

But this time, she didn’t deliberately lower her voice to sound seductive.

Instead, she used her natural tone, which made Lu Xueyin’s heart tremble even more.

“What will it take for you to give me your hand? Should I act cute?”

The riding outfit accentuated their curves perfectly. Neither of them was flat-chested in fact, they were both quite well-endowed.

Getting too close meant contact, and the slightly stiff material of the protective gear offered no reassurance, only amplifying the faint, teasing friction and the itch creeping up from deep inside.

Lu Xueyin wanted to crouch down and slip under Sheng Lan’s arm to escape.

But Sheng Lan simply wrapped an arm around her waist, stopping her, maintaining the position while casually giving her waist a light squeeze.

Lu Xueyin: !

Sheng Lan had enough tact not to comment on her figure that would’ve been sleazy, like harassment.

She repeated, “Give me your hand.”

Lu Xueyin couldn’t outplay her, so she decided to mimic her. “Then later, you have to give me your hand too. Whatever you do to me, I’ll do to you.”

As Sheng Lan raised an eyebrow, her eyes gradually lighting up with an expression that clearly said “What a pleasant surprise,” Lu Xueyin immediately regretted her words. “I—”

Before she could finish, Sheng Lan cut in, “You all heard that, right? Got it recorded? Don’t let me down now.”

Lu Xueyin: “…”

She had slipped up.

She felt her IQ had taken a hit.

Noticing the cold detachment gathering in Lu Xueyin’s eyes again, Sheng Lan reassured her, “Don’t overthink it. If I really wanted to do something to you, there are a thousand ways with or without the cameras.”

Despite the reassurance, Lu Xueyin remained displeased. “You just had to say it out loud. How are we supposed to keep up the act now?”

Sheng Lan couldn’t help but laugh. She gave Lu Xueyin’s palm a playful squeeze, making the latter pull back, before plucking a strand of hair from her own head not from the root, but snapping it midway.

A single pink strand, its color appearing faint.

As she began winding it around Lu Xueyin’s ring finger, Lu Xueyin instinctively curled her fingers to avoid it. Sheng Lan gave the back of her hand a light, unceremonious tap. “Behave.”

Lu Xueyin froze.

Compared to kisses, embraces, or Marking, this gesture was negligible enough for her to overlook.

But being spoken to in that tone as if scolding a child and knowing tens of thousands in the livestream could hear it, not to mention future clips circulating for countless others to witness, her imagination alone amplified the embarrassment tenfold.

Her delayed reaction finally kicked in after Sheng Lan tied the strand into a tiny bow around her finger. “Tch. How childish,” she muttered belatedly.

Sheng Lan accepted the critique and then held both hands out in front of Lu Xueyin, waiting for her to choose.

Lu Xueyin wanted neither.

As Sheng Lan tilted her head slightly, as if about to speak into her earpiece, Lu Xueyin quickly tapped Sheng Lan’s left hand.

Riding would involve gripping reins, and a single hair strand was too delicate to withstand friction. The left hand would be used less, so it could stay adorned a little longer.

Her hair was tied in a high ponytail long, voluminous, and curled, giving off a youthful charm. With well-proportioned bone structure, thick hair, and a perfectly shaped head, she didn’t need accessories or elaborate styling to achieve a flawless ponytail.

Untying it was no hassle either. Unlike Sheng Lan, she didn’t yank strands out. Instead, she casually ran her fingers through her hair, and a few naturally shed strands coiled around her fingertips.

Under Sheng Lan’s watchful gaze, she aligned and knotted them together.

While tying it around Sheng Lan’s finger, she shot her a subtle glance.

Sheng Lan quipped without missing a beat, “How generous of you, sister.”

Lu Xueyin wasn’t as bold or unrestrained as Sheng Lan when it came to their public act, but she had the basics down.

Today’s livestream, filmed discreetly in the dressing room away from cameras, had no suggestive behavior, nor had they exchanged lines with ambiguous undertones.

Yet Sheng Lan’s earlier remark “playing for real” had already heightened the mystique of the livestream tenfold. The unusual approach to their act, the silent chase, and the undefined interactions all made today’s performance compelling.

If Lu Xueyin had to evaluate, today was indeed “for real.”

Because this was how they usually interacted maintaining some distance, testing boundaries, trading barbs, polite yet restrained.

Even the makeshift ring woven from a strand of hair around their fingers could count as real.

Their marriage had been rushed. Sheng Lan had been unwilling, and Lu Xueyin had convinced her mother using her career’s upward trajectory as an excuse. There had been no banquet, no invitations to family or friends, and certainly no carefully chosen wedding bands to fulfill some romantic ideal.

Lu Xueyin stared at Sheng Lan’s fingers for a moment, reminded of an encounter from long ago.

Back then, she was still in college, burdened by tuition and living expenses. Her mother’s poor health, her rejection of several Alpha suitors, and frequent setbacks in finding part-time jobs left her life strained.

It was her senior, Jiang Ling, who told her, “With a face like yours, you could easily make eight hundred a day as an extra in Raven Village.”

For someone like Lu Xueyin, who came from an ordinary family, exceptional beauty was more a curse than a blessing.

Before middle school, she was popular.

After middle school, she was often isolated.

Anyone who showed her kindness even a female Omega would be accused of having ulterior motives.

In their student days, everyone was thin-skinned, unable to bear such suspicions. Over time, she ended up with no friends at all.

High school only made it worse. To stay close to her mother, she chose a local university, but the environment remained just as hostile.

Though she never voiced it, she grew deeply wary of those around her.

When Jiang Ling suggested Raven Village, she was tempted but also afraid it might be a trap.

So she vaguely said she’d think about it. The next day, during a break, she dressed in her mother’s old clothes, smeared her hands, neck, and face with dirt, and turned herself into someone whose only redeeming feature was her silhouette, a single glance at her face would scare an army away.

Naturally introverted and having erased her greatest advantage, her day went as poorly as expected.

Just as she was about to give up, someone called out to her.

Not for an extra role, but to run an errand buying a cup of frozen yogurt three streets away.

They paid her five hundred.

At the time, Lu Xueyin didn’t know it was Sheng Lan.

Childhood memories had blurred, and as adults, their families rarely interacted.

On the rare occasions they did, her mother handled the visits alone, never bringing her along, afraid they couldn’t reciprocate the generous red envelopes from the Sheng family.

Later, Lu Xueyin still ended up in the entertainment industry for the quick money.

She kept an eye out for familiar faces but never saw the bold, stylish beauty from Raven Village again.

People said the industry had no shortage of beauties, making it ruthlessly competitive in every way.

By the time Lu Xueyin rose to fame, Sheng Lan had joined a talent show.

She debuted as a top-tier star, surpassing Lu Xueyin’s influence at the time.

After that, though they moved in the same circles, their paths hardly ever crossed.

Sheng Lan waved a hand in front of Lu Xueyin’s eyes. “Sis, what’s on your mind?”

Lu Xueyin shook her head. “Let’s go. We’re already late.”

Sheng Lan trailed behind her, tone teasing. “Relax. I get it you looked like you really wanted it. I’ll get you a better one later.”

Lu Xueyin felt an echo from years ago: “It’s fine. I’m not short on cash. You look like you need it. If you ever can, just donate to a charity or something. Consider it repayment.”

She thought maybe she should be nicer to Sheng Lan today.

But Sheng Lan had a knack for provocation. Just as the mood softened, she shattered it. Outside the changing room, four or five cameramen were waiting, lenses capturing every angle. Unfiltered as ever, she added, “Oh, I see. You want to spend the rest of your life with me, huh? That look just now was practically eternal.”

Lu Xueyin pointed toward the horse track. “Just you wait.”

Sheng Lan nodded solemnly. “I’m so scared.”

The other guests had already taken turns riding and interacting, now on a break, the four of them had even started a mahjong game.

Sheng Lan, using the excuse that she couldn’t ride a horse and would need Lu Xueyin to carry her the entire way, refused to go fetch a horse and instead came over to spectate.

Meng Qing felt her teeth ache just looking at Sheng Lan’s smug, triumphant expression. “Did you get your way?”

After five o’clock, once they got their phones back, the audio from the changing room would be heard by everyone. By then, Meng Qing would naturally realize that Sheng Lan and Lu Xueyin were completely innocent just engaging in proper promotional activities.

But since Meng Qing hadn’t seen it yet, Sheng Lan loved playing with the information gap. The audience knew everything, while those present each had their own blind spots.

Living under the camera’s gaze, everyone had to save face and wouldn’t openly compare notes. It was absolutely hilarious.

She raised her hand, flaunting the ring woven from hair, making sure no one missed it. She waved it in front of everyone except Ji Xinlan, even holding it up to the camera, fingers splayed for a close-up. Only then did she sit down on the rattan chair, ignoring the collective looks of speechless dismay, and bragged, “What do you mean ‘get my way’? Can’t you phrase it better? Though my dear sister was so gentle and considerate she even helped me get dressed.”

Yan Bing, who had just drawn a tile, shuddered at these words. Her gaze fell on Sheng Lan’s hand, slightly unnerved by her promotional antics over the past two days. After a moment’s hesitation, she avoided mentioning the ring and instead said uncertainly, “I remember you were wearing.”

Seeing Lu Xueyin approaching, Sheng Lan smoothly picked up the thread. “Right, I was wearing the wrong clothes at the time.”

To make a name for oneself in the entertainment industry, even the purest little white flower had to cultivate nine levels of sophistication.

First, a rainbow-hued Mary Sue phase, then a darkening arc, before finally returning to white proclaiming oneself untainted by the mud.

In reality, their hearts were blacker than anyone’s.

Yan Bing looked at Sheng Lan and nodded slightly. “Lesson learned.”

Sheng Lan smiled politely. “You’re welcome.”

They were just copying each other’s homework.

She’d borrowed from the “Bing Tang” CP too.

She even shot Meng Qing a look of exasperation.

Ji Xinlan took the initiative to strike up a conversation with Sheng Lan. “Why do you keep staring at Meng Qing?”

Just hearing that sentence made Sheng Lan feel like her ears had been dirtied.

Based on her understanding of Ji Xinlan’s personality, this question was definitely not teasing her about the so-called “AA romance” with Meng Qing. Instead, it was implying that Sheng Lan cared about her Ji Xinlan.

Because Sheng Lan cared about Ji Xinlan, she was targeting Meng Qing.

By dragging Meng Qing down, Ji Xinlan remained “clean,” leaving infinite possibilities between them.

Sheng Lan’s mind worked fast so fast she couldn’t stop this train of thought from completing its circuit.

Trusting in Liang Jiao’s PR team and her own fans, Sheng Lan left behind a disgusted expression and walked out of the shaded pavilion to find Lu Xueyin.

She delivered a belated act of coquetry.

With her good looks, an exaggeratedly sweet act paired with her goofy personality didn’t come off as cloying or annoying instead, it was a delight to watch.

“Sister, blow on my ears for me.”

Lu Xueyin was puzzled.

Under the camera’s gaze, she reverted to her usual aloof demeanor.

She didn’t give Sheng Lan a single word.

Not even a questioning “Hmm?”

Undeterred, Sheng Lan kept trying, shaking Lu Xueyin’s arm. “Sister, dear sister, blow on my ears. Something dirty got in them only your blowing can make it better.”

Lu Xueyin’s focus veered off course, missing Sheng Lan’s coquetry entirely.

She’d only heard of blowing on eyes when something got in them and even then, she wasn’t sure if it actually helped.

Why would ears need blowing too?

So she replied very logically, “Blowing would just push the dirt further inside.”

Her seriousness made it all the more endearing.

Sheng Lan’s fingers itched with the urge to poke her cheek.

She said to Lu Xueyin, “But I’ve already acted spoiled.”

Lu Xueyin had no choice but to accept this act of affection she didn’t quite understand. Seeing how persistent Sheng Lan was, she glanced toward where Sheng Lan had come from.

Her gaze happened to meet Ji Xinlan’s.

Unfortunately, Lu Xueyin had exceptionally sharp eyesight.

She could clearly see Ji Xinlan curling her lips into a meaningful smile.

She’d seen this kind of thing too often to be affected.

And she understood the situation now.

This was all for show.

She told Sheng Lan to lean down, “Get closer to me.”

Without looking back, Sheng Lan obediently lowered her head.

Lu Xueyin leaned in and blew lightly on her ear.

Going through the motions perfunctorily.

Taking advantage of Sheng Lan blocking most of her face, she didn’t even bother faking an expression.

Blowing on the ear was like blowing out a candle, just a quick “whoosh” and it was done.

But she managed to turn Sheng Lan’s ear red.

Lu Xueyin had suffered too many losses at Sheng Lan’s hands, so much so that she forgot what she was supposed to be doing now.

As Sheng Lan started to straighten up, she grabbed her arm, keeping her in that slightly bent position, and blew on her ear a few more times.

Clearly trying to get even.

Sheng Lan: “…”

You’ve got some nerve.

Having watched many CP compilation videos to study up, Lu Xueyin knew the principle of going too far.

When she felt it was enough, she let go of Sheng Lan, her gaze repeatedly drifting to Sheng Lan’s ear.

After Sheng Lan’s threatening glare proved ineffective, she suddenly leaned down and blew on Lu Xueyin’s ear too.

Perhaps because of the atmosphere, it felt childish. Lu Xueyin wasn’t flustered or embarrassed at all. From her face to her ears and down her neck, her skin remained evenly pale and flawless, without a trace of blush.

Sheng Lan pressed her tongue against her teeth, inexplicably feeling the urge to bite her.

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