After Becoming the Live-in Scummy Alpha, I Pamper Her with Real Strength - Chapter 27

When He Song walked into the study, she found Mo Qingran watching Fenghua Chronicle on her laptop, completely absorbed.

The show had premiered with a ten-episode binge release. It not only laid out the story’s background and the protagonist’s revenge arc but also introduced the main cast, hooking the audience with anticipation.

With its top-tier special effects, smooth plot, and gripping fight scenes, it was a rare high-quality fantasy drama in recent years.

Fenghua Chronicle quickly became a hot topic. Fans were drawn in by He Song’s performance and looks, and she suddenly gained popularity—not from scandals, but from genuine acclaim.

Compared to the cringeworthy acting of so-called “vase” actresses in the past, He Song’s portrayal in this drama was surprisingly solid and seasoned. Many online speculated she had taken formal acting lessons.

Her acting was like plastic surgery—completely transformative.

Some fans of other celebrities even DM’ed her, asking which acting class she had taken so they could recommend it to their own idols.

He Song found these messages exasperating. If only they knew—it wasn’t acting lessons, it was a whole new person!

Mo Qingran sat there, munching on cookies from a tin while watching, pretending not to notice He Song tiptoeing in like a thief.

He Song asked, “Didn’t you have work? Why are you watching TV?”

Mo Qingran replied coolly, “A little leisure between tasks. Since you’re sick, you should be lying down.”

He Song gave an awkward smile and held up the test results. “You already know, right? It’s… been going on for a while.”

Mo Qingran popped a bear-shaped cookie into her mouth and replied, “Pheromone dependency. I saw the doctor’s note too. Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

He Song hesitated. “It’s my own issue. If you feel uncomfortable, I can—”

“You can what? Move out?”

Mo Qingran’s eyes flashed with anger. Her lips pressed into a firm line, and her usual warmth evaporated, replaced with an unapproachable chill. “Why lie instead of just telling me the truth?”

He Song stammered, “It’s my problem. I didn’t want to bother you—”

“You didn’t think it was necessary for me to be involved?”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I just didn’t want to trouble you.”

Mo Qingran set the cookie tin aside and walked over with her arms crossed. “Last time you were trending because of those fake rumors, if I hadn’t stepped in, were you even going to ask me for help?”

He Song froze, unsure why she was bringing that up now—why she hadn’t called out her lie, or why she seemed so angry.

“I didn’t plan to. I thought I could handle it. And those rumors weren’t even true—”

Her voice faltered when she saw the disappointment in Mo Qingran’s eyes.

“If you’re so sure you can handle everything without me, then leave. Pack up and move out tomorrow. Or…”

Mo Qingran unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt, revealing a delicate collarbone. She peeled off the suppressant patch behind her neck and tapped the gland with her fingertip. “Or… bite me now.”

He Song’s ears turned red instantly. Her gaze involuntarily lingered on Mo Qingran’s exposed skin—her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders—as if surveying a claimed territory.

“You’re… willing to let me mark you?” So easily?

Mo Qingran’s voice was calm. “Just a temporary mark. It’s not a big deal. You’ve helped me before—at the shareholders’ meeting, with Mo Yun. I have no reason to refuse a small favor like this.”

He Song swallowed hard. Her throat went dry. “A small favor? Omega dependency can develop with repeated marking. I’m worried—”

“Worried I’ll catch it from you?” Mo Qingran’s tone chilled. “Don’t worry, Miss He. Even if our compatibility rate is high, I’m not interested in your pheromones.”

Her voice was cutting, her gaze devoid of the gentleness she once had when looking at He Song.

He Song suddenly felt like she’d been transported back to when they first met—Mo Qingran, aloof and untouchable, like a cold sovereign. And in her eyes, He Song saw no reflection of herself.

Something slipped through her fingers in that moment. She didn’t even know what it was—only that it was gone.

But wasn’t this a good thing?

Mo Qingran had agreed to help and promised she wouldn’t grow dependent. No risks, no complications.

Then why did it feel so hollow?

The scent of sweet peach filled the air as He Song leaned in and gently bit into the gland on Mo Qingran’s neck, injecting only a small amount of pheromone—different from last time.

Mo Qingran’s legs nearly gave out. Her face flushed red, but she stubbornly waved He Song off and returned to her desk. “It’s done. You can go.”

It felt… very different from last time.

He Song opened her mouth to say something but was silenced by a cold glance.

________________________________________

Mo Qingran had agreed way too quickly. It didn’t add up.

He Song had expected to work through layers of buildup, to stall until the medication failed, to beg and plead if necessary. If that didn’t work, she’d quietly pack up and move back to her old apartment.

She was fully prepared for the worst. She’d even rehearsed her speech, ready to face the final boss.

But instead of a boss battle, she got a mini-minion who dropped the loot immediately—no effort required.

If not for the lingering scent of peaches on her nose, she would’ve thought the whole conversation was just a dream.

Frustrated and unable to figure things out, she flopped back on the bed and rolled around with a fluffy white fox plushie.

Just then, her phone lit up. It was her agent, Qi Ming, sending over the official contract for the Manga Channel’s upcoming dating show.

“Post an announcement later. I’ve sent you a template. Don’t forget to tag the channel.”

“Got it.”

He Song posted the announcement on Weibo, and the comments exploded—with reactions that were pretty much what she’d expected.

“Why is a notorious heartbreaker joining a dating show? Just for the hype?”

“Every season needs a drama magnet, right?”

“Ugh, another scripted mess. Bye.”

“It has to be scripted. Fans won’t be cool with celebs dating random nobodies. Remember that psycho fan who sent razor blades to the male lead’s house last season?”

“Makes sense now. That’s why they cast He Song. If anyone manages to tame this player, fans will be relieved.”

“Actually… I’m kind of curious to see her in action. Her past girlfriends were all stunners.”

“Curious my ass—show us proof. You want a lawyer’s letter from Huanyao?”

“She’s got a type: hot and hotter.”

“Can we get an ex to spill the tea? I wanna know how this greasy flirt lands babes.”

“Forget that. Just watch the show. Rumor is it’s a celeb-meets-civilian dating format. Hello, casting team? I’m a 6’0 Alpha CEO with a billion-dollar company. I’ll pay for the whole production—just let me on!”

That last comment blew up and became a top-rated reply, followed by hundreds of threads jokingly pitching themselves as contestants.

It quickly devolved into a chaotic online job fair meets dating app.

Manga Channel’s official account jumped on the buzz and reposted He Song’s announcement along with a call for applications for One Day Season 3.

Anyone interested could submit their info via email for a chance to be cast.

He Song read the replies with amusement and messaged Qi Ming: “Who else is invited besides me?” If they were all going to be in the same show, she figured she’d better know the competition.

Qi Ming named a few A-listers that the network wanted, though he doubted any would agree.

“Most of them are busy filming. No time for a reality show. The rest? Too high-profile.”

It wasn’t that they looked down on dating shows. One Day’s first two seasons had done well and helped many participants win over new fans. But the format was live-streamed, with no editing to clean things up—and a single misstep could wreck a reputation. Too risky.

So typically, only lesser-known celebs or rookies took part.

“But Fu Qingqing and He Ruan are probably joining. They went public with their engagement earlier this year. The show invited them, and they didn’t say no.”

They were a popular couple—a film queen and a famous photographer. Their six-year relationship had always been semi-public.

“Dang. So the show’s got both ends covered—new flings and old flames,” He Song replied. “You want wholesome romance? It’s there. You want sparks flying at first sight? Also there.”

“Don’t forget the snarky love commentators. They’ll be narrating your every move.”

Understanding the setup, He Song asked a key question: “Is there a script?”

“They’re working on it. Can’t reuse the old ones.”

He Song: Knew it. All smoke and mirrors.

Well, acting was acting. She’d just treat it like another role.

Little did she know—plans never keep up with reality. And reality? Always more dramatic than the script.

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Paris, France.

A woman in silver-rimmed glasses sat by the window in a quiet café. Dusk cast a dim light across the stone plaza, where a street band played a mellow, wordless tune.

People came and went. Some paused. Most didn’t.

The aroma of coffee curled in the air. Her glasses fogged up from the heat, so she took them off and set them aside.

Delicate features, soft charm—classic East Asian beauty. A small red mole marked the edge of her right brow.

She rubbed her eyes, exhaled gently, and glanced back at her phone. The screen was still showing He Song’s Weibo announcement.

A soft ringtone played. The screen lit up: “Second Brother.”

She answered, “Second Brother? Mm, yes—I’ll be back next week.”

“I’m not tired. Just pick me up, no need to trouble Big Brother. Got it. Thanks.”

“Oh, and… I have a favor to ask…”

________________________________________

Author’s note:

The white moonlight finally makes her appearance.

We’ve finally reached the dating show arc. I’m going to work hard, stay focused, and keep writing!