A Scummy Alpha and An Award-Winning Omega Actress Fell in Love After an Arranged Marriage - Chapter 45

She said she guessed wrong, yet didn’t reveal the correct answer.

Lu Xueyin took the pen, signed a photo, and handed it to Sheng Lan.

Sheng Lan accepted it and, just like the photos given to fans, wrote her own name beside Lu Xueyin’s.

It seemed she had only wanted to spout a cheesy pickup line, with no further demands.

Being cooped up in a room for too long made emotions grow increasingly sensitive and restless.

Amid the pitter-patter of rain, the most dreaded thing crept closer step by step, while the presence of the other person intensified with every passing second. The terror buried deep in her heart surged up only to be suppressed again.

She wanted to confide in someone, to seek protection, but the words stuck in her throat. Fearing she’d have to explain, to reopen old wounds, to recount her past experiences word by word in what would almost be a cry for help, she chose silence.

After days of rain, even breathing felt damp and stifling.

With the last photo signed, there was nothing left to distract her.

Sheng Lan interlaced her fingers, stretched them a few times, then gathered the photos and placed them in a box, ready to hand over to Xiao Tao when the chance arose so they could be mailed out according to the giveaway winners’ information.

She asked Lu Xueyin if she wanted to go out for a walk. “Let’s take a stroll.”

Lu Xueyin turned to look out the window. The glass was foggy, the view unclear.

The inner layer was misted over by the warmth of their breath, while the outer one was conquered by raindrops.

From the sound of it, the rain was still heavy. She wanted to go out for some air, to let the rain wash away the restlessness in her heart. But remembering they were on camera, she shook her head and declined.

Sheng Lan stood up, circled behind her, and placed both hands on the armrests of the wicker chair, leaning down to envelop Lu Xueyin completely.

With the cameras still rolling, Lu Xueyin felt a bit bolder.

Faced with the Alpha’s invasive gesture, she realized she ought to react like an Omega should yet her stubbornness, stronger than instinct, held her back.

As obstinate as ever, she neither yielded nor retreated.

Their hair tangled first, then Sheng Lan’s breath brushed against her ear. Using the angle to block the camera, Sheng Lan’s voice, laced with a subtle electric current, seeped into Lu Xueyin’s mind through her ear. “But I really want to go. Will you walk with me?”

Lu Xueyin toyed absently with the pendant on her wine bottle.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Sheng Lan’s hair draped over her chest. Letting go of the pendant, she reached out and twirled a strand of pink hair around her finger, lightly stroking it.

The hair hadn’t been dyed yet, but the pink contact lenses had been removed long ago.

Lu Xueyin tilted her head back to meet Sheng Lan’s gaze. Without a word, she made a bold move.

Releasing Sheng Lan’s hair, she reached up and wrapped her arms around Sheng Lan’s neck instead, pressing her palm firmly against the gland at the nape of Sheng Lan’s neck. Feeling the heat there rise, she watched the aggression in Sheng Lan’s eyes intensify, then smiled faintly. She withdrew her hand but didn’t look away, resting the back of her head against the wicker chair as she maintained eye contact. Then, with the same hand now carrying the scent of Sheng Lan’s pheromones, she covered her nose and mouth.

An open, deliberate inhale.

The wary little cat brought into the home, now emboldened by a sense of security, had begun to provoke.

It could be seen as acting spoiled, as her way of being coy.

Or it could be interpreted as the manifestation of her inner unease, an attempt to vent certain emotions, to demand attention.

Sheng Lan cautiously released a bit more of her pheromones.

At this distance, even if Lu Xueyin’s palm still carried traces of tequila pheromones, she could still catch the scent.

Watching her emerald-green eyes widen without a trace of coldness was an utterly delightful process.

From the moment I barged into her gaze, it became a rendezvous with spring.

That faint green hue, one more glance and I’d be lost.

After cautious exploration, the pheromones found their destination in an orderly yet lively manner, clinging to Lu Xueyin’s skin and seeping in bit by bit, serving as emotional balm.

Tequila’s intensity and restlessness weren’t suited for such delicate, tender work. Even when attempting gentlemanly consideration, its overall demeanor remained an unyielding dominance that brooked no refusal or resistance.

Omnipresent. Irresistible.

Lu Xueyin’s mind relaxed slightly, the springwater in her eyes shimmering with ripples that ensnared souls.

For a fleeting moment, Sheng Lan lost control, leaning closer to her.

Lu Xueyin, for reasons unknown, didn’t stop her. Only when Sheng Lan snapped back to awareness did their eyes meet before Lu Xueyin averted her gaze, finally pulling herself out of that languid, indifferent state where nothing seemed to matter.

Wanting to shift the topic and grateful for Sheng Lan’s restrained, proper pheromone soothing, she agreed to take a walk together.

Lu Xueyin’s umbrella was tiny crowding under it together looked more pitiful than romantic.

Sheng Lan, never one to carry an umbrella, had the crew prepare one for them.

The umbrella would be left in the first-floor living room. Before heading out, they both sprayed on Inhibitor.

The livestream’s mood couldn’t stay gloomy melancholy was contagious.

It could still be salvaged. Sheng Lan tapped her phone screen twice, didn’t unlock it, and pocketed it.

Never mind.

Today was for coaxing.

Both umbrellas and raincoats were prepared. With the wind strong outside, they wore the raincoats too.

Sheng Lan picked a large umbrella. Walking side by side beneath it, there was still plenty of space for others around them.

Lu Xueyin thought the umbrella was impractical. “Switch? This one’s tiring to hold.”

Sheng Lan refused. “Bigger coverage.”

As if they’d do anything in the rain.

Lu Xueyin wasn’t foolish. Confident in her acting and performance, she also knew livestream cameras would scrutinize every detail.

Had they gone to the haunted house immediately when first proposed, she could’ve toughed it out while her mental defenses were strongest.

But now, after both pairs of guests took a seven- or eight-day break, the delay had worn her down her performance would only worsen.

So after putting on the raincoat, she considered grabbing her phone to interact with fans and liven the atmosphere, salvaging what she could.

Sheng Lan confiscated it. “No spoilers.”

Lu Xueyin: ?

They had no script, but she caught on. “Okay.”

Rain was a frequent motif in films. Lu Xueyin had acted in and watched plenty.

During her CP research, she’d consumed more than Sheng Lan yet her impressions of rain scenes were limited to those she’d performed or seen, leaving other aspects blank.

Emotion at its peak was most moving, whether familial, romantic, or platonic.

She could tweak one and make it work.

As Lu Xueyin combed through her mental archive, hoping to match Sheng Lan’s acting today and salvage the livestream’s somber mood, Sheng Lan called from the doorway, “Let’s go.”

Lu Xueyin hurried after her.

The moment the door opened, wind and rain rushed in.

The courtyard provided some buffer only damp gusts pressed their raincoats against their figures, outlining their silhouettes without soaking them yet.

Sheng Lan muted her mic, opened the umbrella, and stepped fearlessly into the rain. Turning back, she extended a hand to Lu Xueyin.

“Come with me.”

When faced with choices, people often act on instinct.

Lu Xueyin really did extend her hand, placing it in Sheng Lan’s palm, where it was firmly grasped. She was led down the steps onto the gravel path, and even then, Sheng Lan didn’t let go.

She tried to pull away slightly, but Sheng Lan asked if she’d ever gone out in the rain just for the sake of it.

Of course she had.

During her student days, while working part-time, and later when filming those were unavoidable circumstances. She didn’t understand why Sheng Lan was asking this and muted her mic before answering.

Sheng Lan shook her head. “No, I mean when you had nothing to do, or simply didn’t feel like doing anything, and saw the rain outside, so you went out for a walk.”

This was unfamiliar territory. If she couldn’t recall, it meant she’d never done it.

Lu Xueyin shifted her focus from their clasped hands and admitted she hadn’t.

The rain pattered softly, dripping rhythmically onto the umbrella. Their shoes splashed through one puddle after another. In the distance, the horse track was veiled by a natural curtain of rain, the lush greenery saturated with moisture.

There were plenty of distractions, but none as palpable as the faint calluses in Sheng Lan’s palm.

Sheng Lan didn’t press further, continuing their casual conversation. “Back in middle and high school, I loved doing these kinds of edgy things.”

It was around the time she’d just discovered bands.

She’d started learning instruments in elementary school, showing natural talent. Her looks and voice stood out even more, and by middle school, entering adolescence, the constant admiration had made her somewhat arrogant.

“In seventh grade, I played with a band of older students. But I was too young, they didn’t take me seriously. Mostly, they just called me over to foot the bill.”

Born into wealth, generous with those around her, and genuinely passionate about music, she was thrilled to find like-minded people. A few compliments, jamming on a couple of songs, and she considered them family, feeling a sense of “collective pride.” She bought into their spiel about contributing to the band however she could. When instruments broke, she replaced them. When venues were too expensive, she rented them. If other bands had more fans and livelier crowds, she leveraged her popularity to bring friends to cheer them on.

Lu Xueyin never imagined Sheng Lan had ever been taken advantage of, let alone so badly.

She looked at Sheng Lan. “And then?”

Then, of course, she realized their intentions and cut ties cleanly.

After over a decade of smooth sailing, this was her first major stumble played for a fool by several people at once.

For a while afterward, she couldn’t move on. Out of sheer defiance, she formed her own band.

Having learned her lesson about being seen as easy prey, she pretended to be broke from then on. That period was her steepest learning curve, enduring the harsh realities of society and witnessing the fickleness of human nature.

There were plagiarists, those who copied her work and then accused her, backstabbing bandmates, and encounters with sleazy men and women.

She’d be singing onstage, only for drunkards to shout at her to strip.

She’d never seen such a rotten environment. The joy of creation was overshadowed by disgust and confusion the moment she stepped onstage.

Lu Xueyin’s brow twitched as Sheng Lan said, “With my temper? I wasn’t about to take that, I threw punches.”

Too young, too reckless. It was a Pyrrhic victory.

From then on, she learned the hard way that in chasing dreams, skill wasn’t the priority it was having a hard fist.

The rain that day was much heavier than today’s.

That was the first time Sheng Lan ever felt reluctant to go home. The passion she had on stage was instantly doused by the wind and rain the moment she stepped outside. Wearing a tattered raincoat, she walked in the rain for a long time, cold and hungry, yet her mind had never been so clear.

“I’m afraid to go home because I’m afraid my family will scold me. But why would they scold me? Is it because of my injuries, or because I abandoned my studies to go out and mess around, only to end up in such a miserable state?”

These seemingly unrelated words pierced straight into Lu Xueyin’s heart.

For a moment, she felt Sheng Lan was hinting at her, urging her to figure out why she was afraid of ghosts and what lay at the root of that fear.

But as her heartbeat grew erratic, her body turned cold and numb, shivering in the late summer storm, her thoughts slightly sluggish.

She asked Sheng Lan if she had gone home. “They must have been more worried about you than anything else.”

Sheng Lan said she hadn’t. “I stayed at a friend’s place for a while. The next day, I signed up for a sanda class and found a place to train before going back. By then, my injuries had healed. If no one brought up the past, I was the winner.”

Her next words carried a clear implication. “If we had been classmates back then, no one would have dared to mess with you. I was pretty hard to deal with at the time.”

It was only after growing up that she shed her aggressive demeanor and developed her current personality.

Outwardly carefree and goofy, seemingly indifferent to everything, yet inherently tough and a bit of a troublemaker.

Lu Xueyin understood.

Sheng Lan was talking about bullying.

It was close to the right answer, but Lu Xueyin chose to dodge, steering the conversation back to Sheng Lan. “I did say before that you’ve got a mind full of schemes.”

Sheng Lan didn’t seem like someone who had struggled in the dark, yet she thrived effortlessly in the entertainment industry.

When she first started, even when Ji Xinlan tried to frame her, she went live to protect herself, ensuring she was never at a disadvantage from the beginning.

With this backstory, Sheng Lan became a more complete person in Lu Xueyin’s mind.

It was cold, and there were topics she wanted to avoid, but subconscious thoughts surfaced, prompting Lu Xueyin to ask a question she regretted the moment it left her lips, one she wished she could take back with an undo button.

“You’re pretty good at flirting too. Did you have boyfriends or girlfriends before?”

Support