A Scummy Alpha and An Award-Winning Omega Actress Fell in Love After an Arranged Marriage - Chapter 50

Sleeping required turning on the recording equipment to prove innocence.

Sheng Lan closed her eyes and waited for a while. When Lu Xueyin didn’t speak again, she assumed she was about to sleep, so she lifted the blanket, preparing to get up and turn on the recording device.

Her movements were quick and light. As she lifted the blanket, her legs were already off the bed, ready to stand and leave in one motion.

Lu Xueyin tried to grab her once but missed. Only when she lunged forward did she manage to clutch the hem of Sheng Lan’s clothes.

Turning back, Sheng Lan saw Lu Xueyin’s awkward, unbalanced posture.

Caught in the act, Lu Xueyin seemed embarrassed and flustered, her gaze evasive as she slowly retreated back onto her pillow. She asked Sheng Lan to wait, “Let me think.”

The urge to confide has an expiration date. Once the moment of greatest need passes, revisiting it later won’t carry the same emotions.

At the time, Lu Xueyin had dodged the topic, and Sheng Lan had tactfully steered away. Now, if she brought it up again, she had to see it through otherwise, it would just be toying with her.

Whether she spoke or not, she couldn’t predict Sheng Lan’s reaction.

But one thing was certain: Sheng Lan wouldn’t be like the others.

Even if she disapproved of Lu Xueyin’s earlier avoidance, she wouldn’t lash out with cruel words.

Sheng Lan asked if she wanted water. Lu Xueyin shook her head, closed her eyes, and began, “On the day we filmed the ad, I had a shot that took several takes.”

Sheng Lan remembered. She had gone to the sanatorium to ask Wei Wan about it.

At the time, she suspected Lu Xueyin’s transfer had been due to something terrible.

Most likely bullying something that could still hurt years after graduation.

Lu Xueyin raised an arm to cover her eyes, her voice tight. “You know about my transfer. When you asked me before, I didn’t know how to explain. Honestly, even now, my thoughts are a mess.”

“That middle school my mom paid to get me in. The tuition was expensive every year, and I had to maintain top-three grades to get a discount. If my scores slipped, I’d think about the three points I’d missed for admission. I dreamed of studying and memorizing, not daring to slack off even a little.”

“But you know how it is the harder you try for something, the more obstacles you face. During those two years, my books were torn, my homework and exams thrown away by the class reps. Luckily, the teachers were kind to me. Normally, students who lost their books or didn’t turn in homework would get scolded or have their parents called. Not me. So after a while, those acts became less frequent. Before it ended, they invited me out, saying there was a haunted house nearby.”

Sheng Lan sat quietly, listening. She wanted to reach out and pat Lu Xueyin’s head but held back, afraid of startling her. She simply hummed in acknowledgment to show she was listening.

Lu Xueyin rarely spoke at such length. With her arm over her eyes, her breathing grew labored, and when she spoke again, her voice was stifled, punctuated by long pauses.

“They said if I made it out of the haunted house, they’d leave my books and homework alone. I agreed to go but when I got there, I realized someone wanted to pursue me.”

“They didn’t even hide it, just kept pushing me, telling me to hold hands, shoving me toward him. I got really scared, but I didn’t ask for help. I just ran out on my own.”

The matchmaker felt humiliated having promised a foolproof plan, only for it to backfire.

What followed was predictable retaliation. “That classroom was freezing. They stood beside me, discussing how to dress up, talking about my father’s appearance.”

Sheng Lan patted her shoulder over the blanket, “Lu Xueyin, stop talking. I understand now.”

Lu Xueyin didn’t stop: “My father wasn’t very good-looking. They used all kinds of insulting words to describe what he looked like. They also said I wasn’t his biological child, spread rumors about my mother’s profession, and claimed I had the face of a whore.”

For a moment, Sheng Lan’s mind went blank. When her thoughts returned, they brought with them an overwhelming surge of heartache and fury.

The Lu Xueyin sitting safely before her now was someone who, even when pushed to the brink, would never allow herself to hurt others.

So how helpless and agonized must the younger version of her have been, facing such cruelty?

Lu Xueyin lowered her arms, revealing eyes filled with tears.

“At the time, I really wanted to stop them. I wanted to hit someone, to smash things but I did nothing. I just sat there and watched.”

“I’ve regretted it ever since.”

She thought she was pathetic.

As a daughter, in that situation, she hadn’t shown an ounce of courage. All she could think about was how to escape, how to make it end sooner.

She stubbornly sat there the entire night as self-punishment, hoping her father would forgive her.

“But later, what I fixated on the most was the fact that no one came looking for me that day.”

Sheng Lan leaned over to wipe her tears, softening her voice as much as possible. “You protecting yourself was already incredible.”

Lu Xueyin only shook her head.

The things that haunted her weren’t limited to just that.

There was also how, afterward, when Wei Wan was struggling to make ends meet, barely able to catch her breath from exhaustion, she had still selfishly demanded to transfer schools.

She hadn’t defended the dead, nor had she shown consideration for the living.

The years of doting love she had received became nothing but a burden.

She didn’t deserve it, and she could never repay it.

Sheng Lan pulled her up into an embrace, rubbing her back to soothe her.

Close, sentimental hugs were something Lu Xueyin instinctively resisted in any state.

Sheng Lan didn’t hold her too tightly, but her arms were like a fence within their circle, Lu Xueyin could move but not escape.

“You’ve probably told yourself these things many times before. Like, ‘If you had fought back then, your family would’ve suffered even more later.’ Or, ‘Your parents would’ve wanted you to protect yourself.’”

“I won’t analyze what the best course of action was back then, or tell you what I would’ve done if I were there. Instead, I’ll just thank you, thank you for making it through intact and finding your way to me.”

The sentimental embrace, paired with sentimental words, struck directly at Lu Xueyin’s “trigger points.” The things she resisted most, the things she had no idea how to handle, came at her one after another, making even her instinct to recoil falter.

Over the years, she had encountered very little kindness.

And within that kindness, selfless care was even rarer.

She had weathered hardship after hardship, with the “poisoned apple” always there to remind her yet she remained just as she had been back then.

She could endure suffering, bear pain, withstand doubt and insults, live without understanding or acceptance but she couldn’t handle a single sincere word spoken in her favor.

Those unresolved memories lay damp and heavy in the corners of her mind.

Hard to approach, hard to clean, day after day nurturing the darkness within.

She was helpless. No one could save her. All she could do was clumsily pile layer upon layer of dust over them, hoping they would never see the light of day.

It had never occurred to her to take them out and let them bask in the sun.

Sheng Lan wasn’t the type to excel at sarcastic remarks, and she was sensitive enough to realize that continuing in this vein would make Lu Xueyin bristle. So she shifted the topic, saying, “I didn’t think you’d actually talk about it.”

Her curiosity had its limits. If something wasn’t meant to be asked, or if the other person wasn’t willing to share, she’d lightly probe twice, if there was a result, she’d continue; if not, she’d let it go.

But lately, Lu Xueyin’s outward emotions had seemed like a cry for help, so Sheng Lan had tactfully inquired many times. Thankfully, she’d persisted.

Sheng Lan patted her head, smoothing down the strands of hair stuck to her face by tears, and asked if she wanted to wash up.

Lu Xueyin shook her head, then nodded, but didn’t move.

She kept her head lowered, staring at the messy, thin blanket on the bed.

After swallowing back her tears and steadying her breathing, she spoke again, her voice no longer choked up. “Thank you for being willing to listen to me talk about this.”

Sheng Lan gazed at her for a long moment before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

The dry, warm softness of her lips left a distinct sensation, accompanied by words as intense and powerful as summer: “You’re welcome. I wanted to.”

The sour mood before bed dissipated, but after washing up and lying down, Lu Xueyin felt restless all over and urged Sheng Lan to leave.

Sheng Lan stood by the recording equipment, hardly believing her ears. “You want me to go back to my own room?”

Lu Xueyin guiltily burrowed deeper under the covers, her voice muffled. “You’ve already heard everything you wanted to hear anyway.”

Sheng Lan walked to the bedside and loomed over her.

In the dead of night, with her hair disheveled and a slightly fierce expression, she was lucky she wasn’t wearing white pajamas otherwise, the horror effect would’ve skyrocketed.

She bent down, lifted a corner of the blanket, and poked Lu Xueyin’s cheek with her index finger.

Soft and pale, with a faint cool dampness lingering from washing her face.

Lu Xueyin cut her off. “This doesn’t count as kicking the ladder away after crossing the bridge.”

Sheng Lan promptly pressed her finger to Lu Xueyin’s lips, barely touching, and Lu Xueyin didn’t dare make another sound.

Sheng Lan said, “You’re good at keeping score. Then why don’t you mention that I still haven’t slept with the person I want to sleep with?”

There was no good response to that.

Nor could she easily say, “Then just sleep here.”

Lu Xueyin swatted her hand away. “Do whatever you want.”

When she acted spoiled, there was a delicate charm to it, irritating yet restrained.

Sheng Lan noticed her eyes were still slightly swollen and decided not to tease her further. She turned to switch on the recording equipment before circling to the other side of the bed and climbing in.

Lu Xueyin lay on her side, facing away.

Sheng Lan called her name. “Look at me.”

Lu Xueyin ignored her for a long while before finally turning over to face Sheng Lan.

The mattress was poor quality, causing them to slide toward the middle.

Lu Xueyin tensed her body, trying to create resistance to stay in place.

But when Sheng Lan wrapped an arm around her, all her efforts were wasted.

Lu Xueyin thought about it, if they were going to end up close anyway, then so be it.

But the moment she closed her eyes, Sheng Lan moved her arm again.

Lu Xueyin opened her eyes.

Unfazed, Sheng Lan pulled Lu Xueyin’s hand and placed it on her own waist.

“You can’t always be the one passively getting taken advantage of. You have to take advantage back.”

The logic was flawed, but when Lu Xueyin looked at Sheng Lan’s face and breathed in the soothing pheromones of wine she deliberately released, the little rebelliousness in her heart faded.

She casually pinched Sheng Lan’s waist. “Stop moving.”

Sheng Lan stilled.

The second time sharing a room to sleep, the situation was the same Sheng Lan woke early, Lu Xueyin slept late.

Sheng Lan sat in the wicker chair, wearing headphones and typing on her phone.

Breakfast sat on the table, wisps of steam rising from it.

Lu Xueyin’s fingers unconsciously clenched the sheets.

For some reason, she didn’t feel uncomfortable sharing a bed with someone, twice now.

Having one more or one less person beside her didn’t bother her.

She had a habit of waking up grumpy, and when possible, she would lie in bed for a few extra minutes after opening her eyes.

Her body remained still, her blinks slow, but her thoughts were anything but idle.

Memories of last night played like a movie in her mind. Though she still felt awkward and uneasy about their interactions after the confession, she supposed she was happy.

Because Sheng Lan noticed she was awake and asked, “What’s got you grinning like an idiot this early?”

Lu Xueyin rubbed her face and averted her gaze, insisting Sheng Lan was mistaken.

Once fully awake, she got up to freshen up. By the time she stepped out, Sheng Lan had already put away her phone and earbuds, inviting her to eat together.

The curtains were drawn open, and the morning sunlight spilled in, casting a golden edge over the tableware.

The food, bathed in natural light, looked even more appetizing.

She took out her phone and snapped a few pictures.

Some were straight overhead shots of the breakfast, while others slightly angled to include Sheng Lan in the frame.

First, she captured Sheng Lan’s hands, then her upper body.

Not daring to test Sheng Lan’s sharp senses, she never aimed the lens at her face.

Lu Xueyin wasn’t ready to give up, though, and tried again.

Sheng Lan grew impatient. “Can’t you just be straightforward?”

Lu Xueyin glanced at her, then locked her phone screen nonchalantly. “You’re the straightforward one yet I don’t see you taking pictures of me.”

Her voice still carried a hint of sleepiness, a faint nasal tone lingering.

Paired with the words and her tone, it sounded unmistakably like a coquettish complaint.

Sheng Lan stared at her, waiting to see if Lu Xueyin would blush or look away. But when she realized this was genuinely how Lu Xueyin felt, the direct hit to her heart finally took effect delayed, but potent.

“Fine, I’ll take one for you.”

Lu Xueyin refused. Stirring her spoon in the bowl of porridge, she said, “It’s no fun if I have to ask for it.”

Sheng Lan understood. “Ah, so you want a candid shot. Got it.”

Lu Xueyin didn’t argue.

They chatted idly until breakfast was finished. Sheng Lan gathered the dishes onto a tray, ready to take them downstairs to wash.

Lu Xueyin held a porcelain cup, drinking nearly half of it in one go to steady her nerves. Then, glancing at the still-covered camera in the distance, she asked Sheng Lan softly,so softly, afraid of being picked up by the mic, if she wanted to kiss.

Sheng Lan froze mid-motion, setting the tray back down before locking eyes with Lu Xueyin, scrutinizing every flicker of emotion in them.

“You’d better give me a good explanation.”

Lu Xueyin didn’t think one was necessary. “You never gave a reason when you kissed me.”

That made it even simpler.

“If you see no issue, then come here and kiss me yourself.”

Lu Xueyin stayed seated, fingertips tracing the rim of her cup.

She stole a glance at Sheng Lan’s expression before lowering her gaze to a beam of sunlight on the table.

“I think you really wanted to kiss me last night.”

Back at the haunted house.

Several times.

But the timing and setting were wrong, so it never happened.

Later, when they were alone at night, there had been chances but her mood had been off, so it still didn’t happen.

Sheng Lan asked what that was supposed to mean.

Lu Xueyin was sensitive to emotions.

Especially since, on multiple occasions, just as their relationship had begun to thaw, she’d managed to piss Sheng Lan off.

That tone, she knew it all too well.

She took another sip of water.

She wanted to say she thought Sheng Lan would like this.

But then she remembered saying the exact same thing during a commercial shoot and swallowed the words back down.

Sheng Lan realized Lu Xueyin had a knack for getting under her skin. “Why don’t you tell me what kind of image I have in your mind?”

Here you go!

Support