After Becoming An Internet Sensation For Pretending To Be An Alpha, I Turned Into An Omega - Chapter 12
Outside, staff members were calling for contestants again.
An Leng followed behind Bai Yue and the others, casually picking up her thermos from the table as she left. She returned to her seat in the audience.
Shi Xiaoxia glanced at her, sensing something was off, but couldn’t put her finger on it.
Warm stage lights came on. The nine finalists stood on the stage, ready to perform a slow, emotional song together before the rankings were announced.
The song would be a tough test of their vocal skills. As the first singer, Bai Yue couldn’t afford any mistakes.
When the first note rang out, its gentle, clear voice flowed like a bubbling stream through the ears of the audience.
Only then did they realize that even the older sister could be so tender.
After each contestant sang a solo verse, they came together for the chorus.
The nine voices blended harmoniously, but unexpectedly, more than nine voices echoed from the stage. The curtain behind them parted to reveal row upon row of past contestants. Everyone who had appeared on the show since its inception. The production team had kept this secret well; no one had even hinted at this surprise.
The camera suddenly zoomed in on Bai Yue, her eyes rimmed with red as she struggled to hold back tears.
A bead of tears circled in her eye, finally giving way with a blink and rolling down her cheek.
Nearly everyone around her was crying, especially Chen Zi, her tears glistening like raindrops on a flower. Bai Yue watched, secretly envious. She envied how Chen Zi’s tears fell without bringing on a runny nose.
Ever since she was little, whenever she cried, she always needed tissues to wipe away the snot.
Now, with millions of eyes watching, she couldn’t afford to lose face. Bai Yue swallowed her tears, raised the microphone, and focused on singing.
The song ended.
The final round of voting had closed.
[Waaah, my youth is over…]
[Can I just say that was the most stubborn tear I’ve ever seen?]
[So fierce, yet making me cry online]
[I’ll miss you, my treasure! I’ll miss all of you who cheered for me and voted with me!]
To heighten anticipation for the top two contestants, the production team decided to announce the rankings starting from last place.
The host dragged out the announcements, taking five minutes to reveal each name.
By the time Bai Yue and Chen Zi’s turn came, nearly an hour had passed.
Throughout the competition, their positions had seesawed between first and second place.
As Bai Yue stood center stage with Chen Zi, her gaze drifted to the audience. She saw An Leng mouthing something to her.
Don’t be afraid.
That’s what it must have been, judging by her lips.
Bai Yue couldn’t help but smile inwardly, the corners of her lips curving slightly as her anxious heart settled.
The host continued to drag out the suspense, but when the final result was announced, she suddenly felt it had all been worth it.
Bai Yue had won the Idol championship trophy, surpassing the second-place contestant by two million votes.
Confetti rained down on the stage as the crowd rushed forward to embrace her. This was her moment.
An Leng pulled out her phone, capturing this triumphant instant.
Fans around the stage were shouting, laughing, and crying.
Touched by their emotions, An Leng couldn’t help but smile, genuinely proud of Bai Yue.
As she continued taking photos, An Leng suddenly noticed… Bai Yue seemed to be looking at the camera?
Looking up, she met Bai Yue’s gaze, confirming that she was indeed looking in her direction.
An Leng discreetly put away her phone, waved at the stage, and gave a thumbs-up. Then, casually picking up the cup beside her, she took a sip of water to ease the awkwardness…
Wait… is this… Fat Sea Horse?
An Leng nearly choked as realization hit her.
Because of the distance and the chaotic scene on the field, Bai Yue couldn’t clearly see An Leng’s movements.
When she looked again after speaking to someone, An Leng had already disappeared.
Even after the match ended, she couldn’t find An Leng.
On the way back, Bai Yue’s face was gloomy, completely devoid of the excitement of winning the championship. She didn’t even go to the team dinner.
Still dressed in her competition outfit and makeup, she slumped listlessly in the chauffeured van like a lazy fish. It wasn’t until the driver had driven two blocks that she suddenly remembered her thermos.
Slapping her forehead, she glanced at Wang Xi, who was busy replying to messages beside her. After a brief struggle, she pouted and lay back down.
She left without even telling me! Not even a text message!
Well, I won’t reach out to An Leng either!
Her phone suddenly beeped. Bai Yue quickly pulled it out, but the screen remained dark.
It wasn’t her phone.
“You should change your ringtone,” Bai Yue said to Wang Xi, her comment seemingly coming out of nowhere.
Wang Xi gave her a puzzled look, wondering what was getting into her this time. After checking the message and replying, she said, “Check Weibo. Chen Zi just posted something. Her manager wants you to respond.”
Reluctantly, Bai Yue picked up her phone again.
The latest post was a photo of their recent group photo.
In the photo, Bai Yue stood on the steps, one leg dangling over the edge. Chen Zi’s sweet smile created a striking contrast with Bai Yue’s cool demeanor, perfectly satisfying the hearts of shipping fans.
The caption read: [ @Bai Yue, when will you finally smile? ]
“What should I reply?” Bai Yue casually scrolled through the comments, asking Wang Xi.
“Let’s wait a bit. I’ll send you the details later. Replying now would make it seem like we’re waiting for her to post.” Wang Xi, seated beside her, also opened her phone to monitor the conversation.
“There’s a live stream tomorrow afternoon at 2 PM,” Wang Xi continued, her phone buzzing incessantly. “It’s mainly to thank the fans and chat with them. Don’t be too stiff.”
Bai Yue casually opened the messages and waved the list at Bai Yue. “Look at all these collaboration requests. Once I filter them, you’ll be busy.”
“Sure…” Bai Yue replied absently, her fingers continuing to scroll through Weibo.
Before long, several trending topics related to her popped up:
#Bai Yue Cried# [Boiling]
#Bai Yue Champion# [Boiling]
#An Leng Bai Yue Eye Contact#
She didn’t care about the first two, focusing mainly on the third.
In just a few hours, someone had already edited clips from their live stream. The timing was perfectly synced—every time Bai Yue glanced at the audience, the video cut to An Leng’s image.
The sweet gazes exchanged between them.
Especially that last part with the thermos.
To make things worse, they even tagged An Leng.
Following the link, Bai Yue went to An Leng’s Weibo page. It was still empty, but her follower count had already reached over 900,000, nearing the million mark.
“Just relying on her looks to get by,” Bai Yue grumbled, growing even more displeased at An Leng’s growing popularity.
Wang Xi, who hadn’t heard her, casually asked, “What did you say?”
“…I said I’ve got a new ship,” Bai Yue replied. “Me and An Leng.”
“It’s fine. You’re both Alphas, so they can only keep it to themselves and ship it in private,” Wang Xi replied immediately, failing to notice Bai Yue’s darkening expression.
Switching to her secondary account, Bai Yue liked posts from the ship’s fans and even followed their dedicated hashtag.
A new WeChat message popped up—a reply from Wang Xi.
Bai Yue copied it, then laboriously switched back to her main account and pasted the message in the comments section of Chen Zi’s Weibo post.
Just as she finished commenting, fans swarmed in, pushing her comment to the top.
For a moment, all attention was diverted.
While two Alphas together could be thrilling, the classic Alpha-soft omega pairing was still more enduringly captivating…
*******
After returning home, An Leng’s first task was to edit her photos and post them on Weibo.
[After returning home, I finally saw you.]
Below the text were two stage photos.
An Leng didn’t post any pictures of Bai Yue looking directly at the camera. Instead, she carefully selected a stage photo and one of Bai Yue holding a trophy.
Her fanbase was massive, so unless someone scrutinized the photos closely, they wouldn’t notice anything unusual.
The comments section was flooded with young fans begging for the original photos, along with a few longtime fans congratulating An Leng on finally seeing the live performance.
Some fans lamented:
[If we’d known you were there, we would have planned to go together!]
An Leng gripped her phone tightly, awkwardly replying with a doge emoji and a forced “hahaha.”
After refreshing her feed, she saw her post had trended.
She watched the video of their sweet eye contact several times, growing more fond of it each time. She immediately shared it with a comment:
[Don’t you think two Alphas together are electrifying?]
The comment section filled with supportive replies, leaving An Leng feeling satisfied. Eating off her looks really does pay off, she thought.
Her smugness didn’t last long. She soon stumbled upon a defiant retort that stood out:
[Our Chen Zi is the real deal! Look at how adorable our sister is!]
An Leng clicked on the profile picture. As expected, it was a die-hard Chen Zi-Bai Yue shipping fan.
The user’s feed was dominated by posts about imagined interactions between Chen Zi and Bai Yue, documenting every perceived moment of closeness, real or imagined. The most recent post featured Bai Yue’s supposed response to Chen Zi.
[Next time for sure / dog head]
Bai Yue actually commented on Chen Zi’s post?!
She had just firmly rejected Qiu Shaoyang’s attempt to force them into a shipping pairing, and now this happens. Isn’t this a slap in the face?
Even though she knew this must have been a team requirement, she still couldn’t help but feel angry.
An Leng immediately switched accounts and liked a popular CP (couple pairing) post featuring herself.
******
Bai Yue returned home, changed her clothes, and applied a face mask while scrolling through An Leng’s CP entries, unable to stop.
After reaching the end, she refreshed the page. The more she scrolled, the more she felt something was off…
What did “the real deal is online” mean?
What did “finally someone admitted it” mean?
What did “An Leng, don’t cry” mean?
What was going on?
Trembling, she opened An Leng’s Weibo account. After a single glance, her heart lurched.
She dialed Wang Xi’s number.
“What is it? Did you forget something?” Wang Xi asked, her voice weary.
“No…” Bai Yue hesitated. “It’s An Leng. She… seems to have caused trouble.”
After hanging up, the glowing phone screen showed An Leng’s Weibo post still had zero likes.
But in the likes section, there was a new CP edit.
It was Bai Yue x An Leng.