After Being Bound to the Scummy Alpha System, I Became Famous Thanks to My Face Blindness - Chapter 17

After the previous episode of the second performance aired, Tang Ling and Tan Shiyi went viral once again.

“‘Wildfire’ was absolutely explosive! The editing team nailed it, and Tang Shi’s chemistry was so sweet, I’m losing it—kswlkswl!”

“Waaah, is the Wildfire Squad going to disband after this? I still want more Tang Shi moments, please let them be in the same group again!”

“Considering Ying Kener suddenly dropped out, it’s amazing how far the Wildfire Squad managed to adapt the piece. You can always trust Tan Shiyi!”

“Tang Ling is seriously so indulgent—did you notice the way she looks at Shiyi? I could drown in her eyes.”

Tang Ling glanced left and right at her own reflection, not seeing what was so special about her “eyes,” and decided not to think too hard about it. But she had to admit—there was one thing the audience got right: you can always trust Tan Shiyi.

On the sixth day of training camp, Acorn Entertainment came to the villa to film a digital magazine feature and a special Tang Shi couple interview.

After the group photoshoot wrapped, Tang Ling and Tan Shiyi stayed behind in the studio for a private shoot.

Acorn Entertainment was known for its daring concepts, and after some negotiation, they decided to have the two shoot a sensual wet look photo set.

Tang Ling didn’t mind in the slightest—she was confident in her physique. As an Alpha with defined abs and broad shoulders, she had nothing to be shy about. Tan Shiyi, however, was a different story. Her public image had always been relatively modest, and as an Omega, posing for a sultry photoshoot could easily invite controversy.

Yet Tan Shiyi agreed without hesitation. “If it’s for work, I can handle it.”

The two headed to separate dressing rooms for styling.

The hairstylist asked, “Miss Tang, your hair’s a bit long—should I trim it a little?”

Tang Ling had been meaning to part ways with her “flirty scumbag waves” anyway. “Go ahead. I’ve been wanting a change. Shoulder-length should be fine.”

The stylist froze—Tang Ling’s long hair was practically her trademark, and it wasn’t common to cut hair on set. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Tang Ling said casually. “Doesn’t have to be shoulder-length exactly. Just make it noticeably different from before.”

The stylist studied her face—slender cheeks, sharp angles, and a distinctly youthful look. Since her curls started below the neck and her crown hair was mostly straight, he designed a wolf-cut mullet for her.

After styling it wet, he remarked, “This hairstyle doesn’t go well with red tones—it’ll look dated. You should have your colorist dye it smoky blue or even bleach it; it’ll really make your skin pop.”

Tang Ling examined her reflection from several angles. Though the style had a hint of rebellious edge, it completely transformed her image—she liked it. “You can’t just dye it now while you’re at it?”

The stylist was speechless. “Sis, do we look like we’ve got that kind of time today? And I’m just a stylist, not a colorist.”

Tang Ling sighed in mock regret. “Alright, fine. It looks good enough. I’ll go change.”

For the shoot, Acorn had prepared a half-wet white shirt and black straight-cut pants. The thin fabric clung damply to her frame, tracing out her tall, lean silhouette.

Satisfied after a quick look in the mirror, Tang Ling tousled her damp hair and stepped into the studio.

And there, not far away, stood Tan Shiyi—styled almost identically.

Her naturally fine hair, now wet, framed her face with a fragile, almost breakable softness. The soaked shirt outlined her graceful figure, and with the top two buttons undone, she looked both pure and temptingly alluring. Tang Ling suddenly found herself too flustered to look directly.

Tan Shiyi blinked in surprise. “You cut your hair?”

Tang Ling rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, felt like it. It’s not bad, right?”

Tan Shiyi averted her gaze slightly. “It’s different, but it suits you.”

“Had long hair too long,” Tang Ling said lightly. “Needed a change.”

“Alright, ladies,” the photographer called. “Both of you over here—we’ll start shooting.”

The setting was a bathroom. The cramped space was packed with lighting and wind equipment, cables snaking across the wet floor. It was hard to even step inside.

Tang Ling offered a hand. “Careful. Don’t trip.”

Tan Shiyi hesitated for a second before resting her hand in Tang Ling’s.

The shots were all interaction-based, the poses intentionally intimate.

The first setup was at the sink—Tan Shiyi applying lipstick to Tang Ling.

“Closer,” the photographer instructed. “Shiyi, tiptoe and lean in—good. Tang Ling, straighten your back, tilt your head down. Perfect. Make your gaze softer, deeper. Shiyi, relax your elbow—you don’t actually need to touch the lipstick to her lips, just lean close.”

Tang Ling held her breath—their distance was far too close. Under the glare of the lights, Tan Shiyi’s skin looked like fine porcelain, flawless and radiant.

“Alright, next pose,” the photographer continued. “Tang Ling, wipe the lipstick from Shiyi’s lips. Shiyi, stand straight, don’t look at her—eyes down, we want that emotional distance. Tang Ling, lean in just slightly—shoulders back, not hunched. Use your thumb to wipe the corner of her lips.”

Tan Shiyi obediently lowered her lashes.

That’s when Tang Ling noticed just how long and curled they were—like a doll’s.

Her lips, thin and faintly flushed, gave her an air of helpless innocence that tugged at the heart.

Tang Ling hesitated, afraid of brushing too hard, afraid of hurting her.

Sensing the pause, Tan Shiyi glanced up. “What’s wrong?”

Tang Ling’s heart thudded wildly. She couldn’t admit she was embarrassed, so she blurted out nonsense: “Uh, which hand’s the right one again?”

Tan Shiyi couldn’t hold back a laugh, nodding toward her right.

Tang Ling raised her right hand, bent slightly forward, and gently brushed her thumb across the corner of Tan Shiyi’s lower lip. The pad of her finger came away tinted with red.

At the photographer’s direction, they went through several more poses—wall pin, bathtub embrace—each one more intimate than the last. By the end, neither of them could quite meet the other’s eyes.

After the photoshoot, the two still had to sit for an interview.

In addition to the usual Q&A, this time there was also an interactive segment between Tang Ling and Tan Shiyi.

Holding the answer board in her hands, Tang Ling felt uneasy. She had a bad feeling—this had “disaster” written all over it.

Who knew what kind of perverse questions Acorn Entertainment might throw their way? What if they brought up something that triggered Tan Shiyi? She could already imagine the chaos—by the end of the interview, she’d probably have a “majestic curves” to show for it.

The host smiled brightly. “Are you two ready?”

Both Tang Ling and Tan Shiyi nodded.

“First question: how do you usually address each other in private?”

Tang Ling obediently wrote down “Shiyi” on her board. Tan Shiyi also neatly wrote Tang Ling’s full name.

The host’s expression turned gossip-hungry. “No nicknames? Nothing more affectionate?”

Tang Ling thought for a moment. “Well, I guess calling her Shiyi already counts as a nickname.”

Tan Shiyi added, “I’ve just gotten used to calling her Tang Ling.”

The host decided to let that one slide and moved on. “Second question: when was the first time you two spent time alone together?”

Tang Ling: “…”

Here we go.

She couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Tan Shiyi’s board, curious what she’d write—but before she could see anything, the host caught her.

“Tang Ling, no cheating!”

Tang Ling groaned inwardly. Cheating? Please. I remember that day vividly—it was the day I committed the greatest sin of my life. How could I ever forget?

The real question was—would Tan Shiyi write down the same date?

Gritting her teeth, Tang Ling wrote: May 2nd.

When they both raised their boards, the answers matched—May 2nd.

The host lit up. “Wow, you both wrote the same day! Now I’m really curious—what happened on May 2nd?”

Tang Ling: “…”

Can we please not bring up the most awkward topic imaginable?

Tang Ling stammered, “That was a holiday. Shiyi and I both happened to stay behind instead of going home, so I invited her over to my dorm.”

The host pressed on, smiling. “And what did you two do?”

Oh, plenty. We even broke the doorknob. Tang Ling dared not say that aloud. She cast a pleading look at Tan Shiyi.

Without so much as a change in expression, Tan Shiyi replied, “We played Gomoku.”

The host burst out laughing. “How wholesome! I didn’t expect you two to be such innocent types.”

After that, the host moved on to several safer, more standard questions—about their first stage collaboration, most memorable performance, and so on. Even if their answers didn’t match, it wasn’t a big deal.

But then came another killer question.

“Please write down each other’s birthdays. If you get this one wrong, your fans will be heartbroken!”

Tang Ling froze. She couldn’t remember Tan Shiyin’s birthday. It wasn’t mentioned anywhere in the original script! She couldn’t just make something up, could she?

Meanwhile, Tan Shiyi merely paused briefly before starting to write.

With no other choice, Tang Ling scribbled December 6th, and hesitated to show it.

The host leaned in. “Let’s see your answers! Tang Ling wrote December 6th. Is that right, Shiyi?”

Tan Shiyin, expressionless, said, “March 14th.”

Tang Ling: “…”

That was not even close.

Even the host looked a little awkward. “Ah, I see. Well then, what about Tang Ling’s birthday—July 12th, right?”

Tang Ling: “That’s right.”

Somehow, that only made things worse.

The host chuckled. “Tang Ling, you’d better reflect on this!”

Tang Ling forced a sheepish laugh. “I’ll make sure to remember next time.”

She closed her eyes, waiting for her “Scummy Alpha” points to adjust—but nothing happened.

Opening one eye, she peeked at Tan Shiyi. The girl was silently wiping her answer board, her head slightly bowed, and for a fleeting moment, there was something like loneliness on her face.

A pang of guilt struck Tang Ling. She prayed desperately for this torturous segment to end soon.

Finally, the recording wrapped up. Tang Ling stretched, exhausted. This half-day had been even more draining than rehearsal—she was physically and mentally done.

Tan Shiyi had already changed back into her casual clothes and was waiting by the door.

Tang Ling hurried over, a bit embarrassed. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t remember your birthday.”

Tan Shiyi shook her head. “It’s fine. I only came across it by chance.”

Then, as if to cover something up, she added lightly, “I think Teacher Pu shares the same birthday as you. What a coincidence.”

Tang Ling blinked. Well, of course we share a birthday. How else could we have been switched at birth?

But then another thought struck her.

Wait—how does Tan Shiyi know that?

Has she gotten that close with Pu Xiaoyu already?