A Scummy Alpha and An Award-Winning Omega Actress Fell in Love After an Arranged Marriage - Chapter 68

Early the next morning, Sheng Lan rose to prepare a patient-friendly meal. Cooking for someone in Wei Wan’s condition was restrictive no cold, raw, spicy, or irritating foods. After filtering out doctor-prohibited items and things Wei Wan disliked, the remaining options were slim. Even on her sickbed, the terminally ill lady maintained her habit of not wanting to trouble anyone, especially her daughter.

Sheng Lan spent a long time on the phone with her before Wei Wan finally made two requests: she wanted the corn from the pork rib soup and egg dumplings stuffed with minced lotus root.

Using the small pots in Lu Xueyin’s kitchen, Sheng Lan prepared a full thermos of corn and pork rib soup. She carefully filtered out the ribs and tender meat into a separate bowl, using the remaining clear broth to cook a bowl of egg dumplings for a second thermos. With the leftover ingredients, she whipped up two bowls of rib-and-dumpling noodles for their own breakfast.

Seeing this, Lu Xueyin felt both a flush of warmth and a sting of emotion. “What time is your flight tomorrow?” she asked softly. “If I have time, I’ll go to the airport.”

“Don’t come to see me off, even if you’re free,” Sheng Lan interrupted. She explained, “The edited first episode of Trial Love Period airs tomorrow night. We haven’t had much public interaction since leaving the show. These last two days of ‘last-minute’ business are enough; any more would be inappropriate.”

Specifically, Lu Xueyin’s new film was about to be released, and the production team was heavily promoting the on-screen CP. If their off-screen real-life heat got too high, it would break the audience’s immersion and potentially lower the box office.

Lu Xueyin bit her lip and nodded. “So, you’re flying out tomorrow?” “Yes, tomorrow at noon. I have to stop by the office in the morning.”

After breakfast, the two set off for the nursing home with the thermoses. Lu Xueyin had no experience hiding a relationship, so she followed Sheng Lan’s lead: be as open as possible. The more casual they acted, the more it looked like “pure friendship.”

However, as they got into the car, Lu Xueyin’s sharp instincts for cameras made her frown. “I think reporters have entered the complex.” “Big stars need friends too,” Sheng Lan reassured her. “We shopped together last night and took photos with so many people. It’s normal for someone to follow.”

Sheng Lan decided to share some news to distract her. “Actually, I just acquired a new property yesterday.” Lu Xueyin raised an eyebrow. Sheng Lan slowly recited the address: “Maple Dew Gardens, Block 3, Building C…”

Lu Xueyin snapped her head toward her. They had just left Maple Dew Gardens. “You don’t look surprised at all,” Sheng Lan teased. Lu Xueyin ignored her, looking out the window, but Sheng Lan caught the slight upward curve of her lips. She had bought the unit directly across from Lu Xueyin.

At the nursing home, the atmosphere was harmonious. Sheng Lan and Lu Xueyin naturally pulled up chairs on opposite sides of the bed. They shared a brief, startled look before turning away with soft smiles. Previously, they felt they had to hold hands to “prove” their closeness; today, they didn’t try, yet they seemed more intimate than ever.

Wei Wan was in high spirits, praising Sheng Lan’s cooking. To help her digestion, Sheng Lan had minced the lotus root so finely that it remained crunchy without being hard on the stomach. During the talk, Wei Wan accidentally mentioned Lu Xueyin’s father. The mood dipped instantly, and her energy faded. She was asleep shortly after.

Later, the doctor gave them a detailed report. While the overall data was in a slow decline, the progression of the illness was being controlled well. Leaving the office, Lu Xueyin was silent, but upon reaching the car, she was suddenly filled with a fierce determination to work. Sheng Lan knew she wanted to earn more for her mother’s care and didn’t tease her.

The next day, Sheng Lan met with Meng Qing for their final rehearsal. Since Alphas have a strong sense of “territory,” they needed to finalize every step to ensure they didn’t clash on stage during the concert.

That morning, Sheng Lan received an email from Director Cheng of the reality show. It was the edited “Ghost Wedding” video, titled “GhostWedding_v17.”

“Seventeen revisions? They have a dedicated post-production team,” Sheng Lan muttered. She watched it and was thrilled, the professional editing turned cheap props into high-art cinematic atmosphere. She immediately forwarded it to Lu Xueyin’s email. “Check out this ‘good stuff.’ Report back with at least 100 words.”

On Weibo, Sheng Lan shared the official teaser but only tagged Meng Qing: “Nice suona playing.” It was a subtle way to promote the upcoming concert while maintaining distance from the “bride,” Lu Xueyin.

Jiang Ling, managing Lu Xueyin’s account, was confused. “Are you guys breaking up? The show is airing, and you aren’t interacting.” “Doesn’t it mention the wedding?” Lu Xueyin replied calmly. She explained Sheng Lan was avoiding overshadowing the movie’s promotion.

Jiang Ling eventually replied to Sheng Lan’s post with a formal: “Pleasure collaborating.”

Lu Xueyin’s solo fans were delighted:

“Yes! This professional attitude! Romance only slows down the money-making!”

“The CP ends when the work ends. That’s the Alpha-Omega rule.”

However, the CP “Super-Topic” was a different story. They interpreted the exchange as        “deeply tsundere”:

“Sheng Lan is so subtle. Praising the suona means she’s still thinking about the wedding!”

“Lu Xueyin’s ‘Pleasure collaborating’ is so high-level. Is she satisfied with the suona player or the ‘groom’?”

“They were spotted buying groceries together last night and stayed in the same complex. The sugar is overflowing!”

It seems the internet’s attempt to sour the “sugar” only backfired. While some “skin-wearing” anti-fans tried to claim the couple couldn’t keep up the act once the cameras were off, the CP fans responded with absolute chaos.

“We want the artificial sweetener! Give us the man-made sugar! Today we make sugar, tomorrow we make a human, one step at a time!”

Jiang Ling looked at the “99+” notifications of fans asking “Where is the person?” and decided she was definitely losing her mind for ever worrying about the engagement levels.

The trending topics were a battlefield today. An hour after the Trial Love Period trailer dropped, Ji Xinlan finally executed her “official relationship announcement.” If Sheng Lan hadn’t “bumped” her boyfriend out of the show’s lineup, the announcement would have been perfect. As it stood, the public response was split down the middle between blessings and curses.

But an hour later, at noon sharp, a new tag surged from “Hot” to “Explosive,” completely swallowing Ji Xinlan’s spotlight:

#ShengLanGuestStarringAtMengQingConcert#

The mystery guest, Zhong Qing, had pulled out halfway through the contract, citing “scheduling conflicts.” She had used the concert for months of soft promotion to milk the hype, only to leave Meng Qing in a lurch. Now, Sheng Lan was stepping in to save the day.

Before her flight took off at 12:20 PM, Sheng Lan sent a quick text to Lu Xueyin, telling her not to worry about the inevitable online “bloodshed” between fanbases.

For Lu Xueyin, separations usually had a logical explanation work. She could handle them as long as there was a reunion date. But as the clock hit 12:20 PM and she realized Sheng Lan’s plane was in the air, her heart suddenly felt hollow. It felt like an old room whose only occupant had just moved out, leaving the air stale the moment the door clicked shut.

By 5:00 PM, Lu Xueyin finished her work. This was her last bit of freedom before entering a grueling filming schedule. When Jiang Ling asked if she wanted to go home, Lu Xueyin shook her head.

“Let’s go see Dad.”

Her father was buried in an old, dilapidated cemetery on the outskirts of the city. The area was surrounded by desolate hills and stagnant water, a terrifying place after dark. But after facing her fears in the “Ghost House” with Sheng Lan, Lu Xueyin felt the knot in her heart had finally loosened.

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” Jiang Ling said as they arrived. The small shops outside were closed, and the path was overgrown with weeds.

Under the faint, trembling light of her flashlight, Lu Xueyin walked past crooked headstones. Every time the light hit a name, her body tensed. But once she reached her father’s grave, the fear vanished. She pulled out a tissue and carefully wiped the dust and mud from the stone under the pale moonlight.

She thought of Sheng Lan. If Sheng Lan were here, she’d probably say: “You should only be scared if someone actually answers you back.” A small smile touched Lu Xueyin’s lips.

She whispered her secrets to the stone: “I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a while… Mom is sick, and I don’t know how to fix her. But I’m married now. It’s that engagement you and Mom made years ago. She’s very good to me, so you can rest easy.”

As she stood up to leave, she added, “Next time, I’ll bring Mom and Sheng Lan to see you.”

The Sound of the Wind

The walk back felt lighter, though she still jogged a bit near the exit. Jiang Ling, watching from the car, wondered if a ghost was chasing her. To make sure Lu Xueyin hadn’t been “possessed,” Jiang Ling tested her with a question.

“What is the question I ask you most often since you got married?”

Lu Xueyin blinked. “Whether Sheng Lan is actually a ‘Fake Alpha,’ or if there’s such a thing as ‘Marking Impotence’ in this world besides just being asexual.”

Jiang Ling sighed in relief—that was definitely the real Lu Xueyin. However, she had forgotten that she was still on a speakerphone call with Sheng Lan to “brave her nerves” while waiting.

A voice scarier than any ghost drifted from the car’s speakers. It was Sheng Lan. “The double salary and bonus I promised you? Consider them cancelled by those two questions.”

As Jiang Ling wailed in despair and Sheng Lan hung up, Lu Xueyin’s own phone buzzed. It was a call from Sheng Lan. The gloom in Lu Xueyin’s heart evaporated as she leaned back, a genuine, radiant smile spreading across her face.

“Listen to the wind?” Sheng Lan said on the other end. “I recorded it in the mountains. No robot voices, no tuning, it’s a bit messy, but natural.”

Lu Xueyin listened as the sounds of flowing water, birds, and rustling leaves filled her ear. “Do you hear the noise?” Sheng Lan asked. “Is it too loud or piercing?”

Lu Xueyin listened intently, but she could only hear the peaceful sounds of nature. She honestly told her she couldn’t hear anything “wrong.”

Sheng Lan let out a long, dramatic sigh. “I guess the sound of me missing you isn’t loud or chaotic enough. Even at maximum volume, you can’t hear it.”

It took Lu Xueyin two seconds to process the condemnation and the romance behind it. The character for “Lan” (嵐), when split, is “Mountain” (山) and “Wind” (風). The wind blowing from the mountains was the sound of her longing.

Instead of being her usual detached self, Lu Xueyin leaned into the “straight ball.” “Then why don’t you just tell me how much you miss me?”

Sheng Lan didn’t hesitate. Just like that night she had pouted and nuzzled into Lu Xueyin’s chest, she repeated her quantified longing over and over. “I miss you, miss you, miss you so much!”

This time, Lu Xueyin didn’t say something practical about seeing each other soon. She simply smiled and whispered, “I miss you very much too.”

Support