After A Secret Marriage Agreement With A Rival Omega - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: “A Tyrant at Home.”

When the call connected, Chu Wu was standing outside her lab’s glass doors in the hallway. Looking like she had just finished a shift, she pulled off her mask and leaned closer to the camera.

“Busy? Took you a while to answer.” Chu Wu had keen eyes. “Your face is so red—you’re not drinking alone, are you?”

Jian Jixing’s tone was a bit sharp: “Get to the point.”

Chu Wu rubbed her nose, feeling baffled. “I just happened to have a break and wanted to remind you about the Saturday livestream. There will be a host; do you want to join as an anonymous viewer or use your official account?”

Jian Jixing: “Official.”

Chu Wu pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed with a headache. The video stayed on as Jian Jixing set the phone on the table to pour herself a glass of ice water. Then she heard Chu Wu speak.

“When are the two of you ever going to get along?”

“Did she complain to you?” Jian Jixing used a declarative tone, her expression flickering as she looked at the camera. “I never provoked her.”

Whenever Sheng Ruxi couldn’t win an argument, she would run to Chu Wu to complain. This trick never failed; she seemingly believed this method would strip Jian Jixing of her “mating rights” in Chu Wu’s eyes.

When will she stop being so childish?

Chu Wu was utterly helpless: “What are you saying? I treat both you and Ruxi like younger sisters. Didn’t I make that clear long ago? I just don’t want you two constantly bickering out of spite.”

Chu Wu wasn’t an idiot. She vaguely knew that whether it was a book, a kitten, or a cup of milk tea—if it appeared between Sheng Ruxi and Jian Jixing during their rebellious youth, they would fight over it.

She and Jian Jixing were both Alphas; there was zero biological attraction possible.

Though Sheng Ruxi was an Omega, Chu Wu had made things clear with her before going abroad. The three had stayed in touch for years, but Sheng Ruxi was different. Every time she contacted Chu Wu, it was to complain; two out of every three sentences were about Jian Jixing.

If she didn’t know for a fact they had been like fire and water since they were teens, Chu Wu would have thought she was just a piece of “foreplay” between them.

“Who’s doing it out of spite? She’s doing it all for you,” Jian Jixing said with a half-smile. “She told me today not to cry at your wedding.”

Chu Wu looked horrified, waving her hands. “Stop it… you know Ruxi’s temper. You take her angry words seriously? I think she’s just mad that someone else sat on your precious motorcycle.”

Someone else sat on it?

Seeing Jian Jixing’s frown, Chu Wu realized she was completely in the dark. “You don’t know? I was looking at your award photos today and saw a female actress posted a photo with your bike. Netizens are saying she looks like a great match for your motorcycle.”

The actress was named Meng Zhao. She hadn’t been very popular before and was known for “diva” behavior, but recently her variety show resources had improved. Now she had posted a sweet photo leaning against Jian Jixing’s bike.

Some were speculating that Jian Jixing was the “backer” behind Meng Zhao. After all, Director Jian was famously protective of her bike and never let anyone sit on the back.

A fan had even replied: Backer? That’s a real relationship! Other people can’t sit there, but a wife certainly can.

Between Jian Jixing’s award and the “motorcycle scandal,” Meng Zhao had managed to wedge herself into the trending topics previously dominated by the two rivals.

“Who?”

“…” Chu Wu was speechless. She knew Jian Jixing wasn’t the type to engage in “unspoken rules” with actresses, but how could she not even remember the names of people in the industry?

Chu Wu explained who Meng Zhao was. Jian Jixing simply let out an “Oh”: “It is only for a wife.”

Chu Wu didn’t catch the hidden meaning: “Then why did you let Meng Zhao sit on it? Strange.”

“It was probably parked at the ceremony and she used it for a photo; she wouldn’t dare actually sit on it,” Jian Jixing said. “Why are you following this gossip? Go back to your research before your lab goes broke and you have to borrow money from me.”

Chu Wu endured it for a moment: “I’m a researcher, not dead. If you weren’t so biting, you’d have a wife by now!”

This time, Jian Jixing didn’t make a sound. The fact that she and Sheng Ruxi were married was known only to their parents and a few inner-circle people. Both had tacitly agreed not to tell Chu Wu.

Jian Jixing knew Sheng Ruxi truly didn’t want Chu Wu to know, and for her part, she didn’t care. Since Sheng Ruxi wanted to hide their relationship so badly, she was patiently playing along with this “playing house” game.

…

After hanging up, Jian Jixing searched herself online. The photo of Meng Zhao and her bike was already trending at number three. She confirmed Meng Zhao hadn’t sat on it, but she had definitely leaned against it.

No wonder Sheng Ruxi didn’t want the bike; now she herself found it distasteful.

Jian Jixing checked the time: 10:05 PM.

Unless she was filming at night, Sheng Ruxi religiously went to bed at 10:00 for her “beauty sleep.” Being a minute late would trigger her princess temper. Jian Jixing didn’t send a message; instead, she used the “nudge” (tap) feature on Sheng Ruxi’s avatar.

【You nudged Little Green Bean’s face, gave it a peck, and said “Please, please.”】

Jian Jixing was quick, immediately hitting “undo.” But a moment later, she received a reply.

Little Green Bean: [Image] Little Green Bean: [Isn’t this ‘begging’ quite smoothly done?]

The screenshot read: Absolutely Ignoring Her nudged your face, gave it a peck, and said “Please, please.”

Jian Jixing specifically cropped the words “Absolutely Ignoring Her” and sent it back with: [Oh? Why so childish?]

Two minutes later, Little Green Bean replied: [Just suffocate to death for all I care!!!]

…

The next morning, at an outdoor film set.

Director Zhang was nowhere to be found near the monitors. Instead, he was found crouching miserably next to Sheng Ruxi’s lounge chair, holding an umbrella for her and bowing.

“Xiao Sheng, just one more pickup shot, sorry for the trouble… Meng Zhao felt her emotions weren’t on point after seeing the playback. I’ll go talk to her a bit and get her into the zone. Let’s try to get it in one take.”

Sheng Ruxi’s expression was neutral as her makeup artist touched her up. She was too fair; her skin was so delicate that even high-end powder felt like a waste of natural beauty. She didn’t react much to the director’s groveling, merely nodding.

Director Zhang sighed inwardly. Meng Zhao and Sheng Ruxi played the first and fifth female leads. Normally, Sheng Ruxi was the star, while Meng Zhao played a villainous role where she bullied the lead.

But Meng Zhao had recently become popular, brought in more investment, and now had more “say.” She claimed she wasn’t “villainous” enough and that Sheng Ruxi’s eyes at the end of the scene weren’t “aggrieved” enough, demanding a reshoot.

She was framing it as her own issue, but she was implicitly insulting Sheng Ruxi’s acting. The scene involved Meng Zhao splashing red wine in Sheng Ruxi’s face.

Director Zhang was terrified of Sheng Ruxi making a scene—she certainly had the power to—but today she just seemed to be in a bad mood, ignoring everyone and staring at her phone.

Days had passed, and it was now Friday, but Jian Jixing hadn’t contacted her again. Thinking of this, Sheng Ruxi found the contact name “Absolutely Ignoring Her” annoying. I changed it, and she thinks she can make me change it back with a screenshot? Never.

She had looked up the “nudge” settings that night and ended up seeing the photos of Meng Zhao with Jian Jixing’s bike. That was the bike Jian Jixing had offered her. Jian Jixing was a neat freak; the bike was new. She must have wanted to get rid of it because someone else had made it “dirty.” The more Sheng Ruxi thought about it, the angrier she got. She changed Jian Jixing’s name to [Vixen/Shrew].

…

When filming began, Sheng Ruxi dropped her phone and instantly entered her role. Meng Zhao picked up the red wine, acting provocatively before the cameras even rolled.

“This glass was meant to celebrate your award, but who knew it would end up on your face today?” Meng Zhao said condescendingly. “I’m soft-hearted with cats and dogs, but I have to do this for the quality of the film.”

“I’m surprised you agreed to a reshoot, Ruxi. Don’t you usually brag about ‘one-take’ performances?”

“Because you’re right,” Sheng Ruxi said, casually brushing a strand of hair. “My ‘aggrieved’ acting wasn’t pitiful enough. After all… no one has ever dared to make me feel aggrieved before.”

The director signaled “Action.” Meng Zhao splashed the wine. But instead of a proud expression, Meng Zhao acted shocked: “Ah! Ruxi, I… wait, sorry, let’s do it again.”

The director was furious: “Meng Zhao, what’s wrong? I said “one take!”

Meng Zhao apologized quickly: “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, but seeing Ruxi’s face covered in wine made me want to apologize instinctively.”

Sheng Ruxi remained expressionless. As staff swarmed her, she coldly glanced at Meng Zhao: “Again.”

On the next take, Meng Zhao splashed the wine even harder. Even though Sheng Ruxi closed her eyes, the wine hit her face like a loud slap. As she wiped it away, she suddenly looked past the camera.

Jian Jixing was standing there, leaning against a post with a raised eyebrow and an unreadable expression.

The director was so stunned he forgot to yell “Cut.” Next thing he knew, Sheng Ruxi’s eyes were full of tears, the slight redness around them showing her stubbornness. Her “aggrieved” expression was now incredibly vivid and heartbreaking.

Director Zhang realized this take was ten times better than the previous ones. If he hadn’t seen Jian Jixing standing there, he would have thought it was pure, natural emotion… What incredible acting.

Jian Jixing walked toward Sheng Ruxi. She paused her gaze on the actress before turning it toward Meng Zhao.

The director shut off the cameras immediately. Meng Zhao shivered but then felt a surge of joy. She saw a large truck behind Jian Jixing opening up—it was filled with coffee and desserts. Jian Jixing was here for a “visit.”

Meng Zhao assumed the photos worked. She leaned toward Jian Jixing, but the director walked right past her to stand in front of Sheng Ruxi.

Without helping her wipe the wine, Jian Jixing said flatly: “Sheng Ruxi, did you never take an acting class?”

The set went silent. Sheng Ruxi’s eyes flashed with annoyance. She had trained for years for this—did Jian Jixing really think her award was a fluke?

Jian Jixing picked up the bottle of wine and poured a full glass. “There’s a technique to splashing wine and receiving it for the best effect. Of course, those are useless for an actress who relies entirely on her face. What are you smiling at?”

Jian Jixing’s eyes held a warning, but Sheng Ruxi saw the intent behind them. Her smile deepened. The sun must have risen in the west; Jian Jixing just admitted I have ‘authoritative’ beauty.

Jian Jixing handed the wine to Sheng Ruxi and turned to Meng Zhao, her eyes cold.

“Your scene partner doesn’t seem to know how to splash. The acting is too heavy. Since you’re professionally trained, why don’t you give her some pointers?”

Jian Jixing laughed—a bright, chilling sound. “Sheng Ruxi, go ahead. Show your partner how to splash wine until she learns.”

Before Meng Zhao could react, a glass of wine hit her full in the face, ruining her makeup and hair. Without the “exquisite” packaging, she looked truly miserable.

“No,” Jian Jixing shook her head. “The angle Meng Zhao received wasn’t pretty.”

She waved away the makeup artists. “Don’t bother. Pour another glass. Again. Keep adjusting the angle.”

Meng Zhao realized what was happening. Jian Jixing was saying she wasn’t a natural “authority” like Sheng Ruxi; she had to be perfect to look even decent.

Sheng Ruxi was delighted, throwing herself into the “villain” role. She was naturally petty, and now that Jian Jixing had handed her the opportunity, she took it.

Second glass, third glass. Jian Jixing kept repeating: “The angle for receiving it is a bit off.” “This one isn’t good.” “This angle doesn’t work.”

Meng Zhao was a mess. She had never realized Jian Jixing’s mouth could be so poisonous. She glared at Director Zhang, but he just said: “It’s a rare chance to get Director Jian to coach you. Learn well!”

Jian Jixing finally smiled lazily: “Forget it, it’s too much of a challenge. Everyone, take a break and have some afternoon tea.”

Meng Zhao was left speechless. What does ‘too much of a challenge’ mean??

Jian Jixing took a large bath towel from Tuanzi and wrapped it around Sheng Ruxi’s head, rubbing it casually.

“So claws and fangs in front of me?” Jian Jixing looked down, accurately pinching Sheng Ruxi’s earlobe through the towel. “Turns out you’re just a tyrant at home.”