After My Fiancée Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha - Chapter 29

Bo Long.

He looked as though he had been waiting for a long time, dark circles shadowing his eyes. Even his once-bright yellow hair seemed wilted.

Tang Cheng remembered she still hadn’t paid him. She reached for her phone, but he stopped her. “I’m not here for money.”

Her fingers froze. She shifted, handing him the menu instead. “Something to drink?”

He shook his head. “I’m leaving tomorrow. I came to say a few words before I go.”

Tang Cheng’s gaze sharpened. “First, I don’t know how much of your words I can trust. Second, if this is about Lu Xinxue, don’t bother.”

Her eyes pinned him so fiercely it was almost frightening.

Bo Long raised his hands lightly. “Calm down. I didn’t take anyone’s money this time.”

Tang Cheng sipped her coffee, silent but not dismissive.

“I only came to say goodbye.”

“You lured me into Star City. What was your purpose?”

He crossed his legs, casual. “Someone wanted to meet you.”

“Who?”

“That, I can’t say. I was paid.”

As expected. His evasiveness irritated her. “Then why come to me now?”

“We’ve had some dealings. I came to advise you.” He leaned his head on his hand. “Leave early. Whether it’s the one behind all this or Lu Xinxue, neither is someone you can easily provoke.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

Tang Cheng knew Lu Xinxue was building her game, power rising behind her. If even Bo Long came to block her, the storm was bigger than she thought.

“I just think it’s sad your whole life revolves around Lu Xinxue.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s not worth all this. We’re all pawns. Escaping early is the only way to win.”

His tone was calm, almost indifferent, so different from Tang Cheng’s blazing anger.

“I’m really leaving this time. Take care.”

Before she could reply, he stood, patted her shoulder. Tang Cheng grabbed his wrist, glaring. “You have no right to speak of Lu Xinxue.”

Bo Long only smiled, pulled free, and walked out of the café.

Tang Cheng straightened, exhaling once he was gone.

How much of his words could she believe? What path lay ahead? Her mind was a storm.

Her fingers clenched around the cup. A voice inside screamed—humiliation. She couldn’t fix that chip, and now this yellow-haired thug dared lecture her. Unbearable.

Suppressing the discomfort, she rose and ordered a small cake at the counter.

Again, tied with an orange ribbon.

She returned to the lab, deliberately avoiding Xie Chensong, slipping into the equipment room to study the unfinished device from yesterday.

She spoke to no one, her mood written all over her body.

Yu Xia’an noticed her return, glanced once, but said nothing. Xie Chensong, however, never took her eyes off Tang Cheng.

The atmosphere in Group Five was strange, until lunchtime broke it.

An Alpha strode in, hooking an arm around Yu Xia’an. “Come on, lunch!”

It was Lin Xin from HR. Seeing Yu Xia’an’s gaze elsewhere, she followed it to Tang Cheng, still tinkering with equipment. Yuan Jie sat opposite Yu Xia’an, silent. Xie Chensong hammered her keyboard with visible resentment.

Lin Xin, not entirely oblivious, straightened and asked again. “Lunch?”

Yu Xia’an replied, “Yes. People need food.”

She packed up, called to Yuan Jie. “Let’s go. You coming?” Then to Xie Chensong, who refused outright.

Lin Xin pressed. “Not eating?”

Xie Chensong didn’t look up, eyes locked on Tang Cheng, teeth clenched. “No.”

Yu Xia’an tugged Lin Xin’s arm, signaling her to stop. “I’ll ask Tang Cheng.”

She pushed open the lab door, leaning against the frame. “Lunch?”

Tang Cheng almost agreed, then thought better. “No.”

“Xie Chensong isn’t eating either,” Yu Xia’an added.

Tang Cheng muttered, “Then it must be bad.”

Yu Xia’an laughed despite herself. She stepped forward, dismantled Tang Cheng’s equipment, removed her glasses, and seized her wrist. “You can study anytime. Eat.”

And so, the four went to the cafeteria.

Lu Corporation was vast. Lunch break lasted three hours, with half an hour just to walk to the cafeteria.

“How’s it going? Adjusting?” Lin Xin asked Tang Cheng directly.

“I’m trying,” she replied.

“That’s good. So, about President Lu today—”

Yu Xia’an slapped her hand down. “Stop.”

Lin Xin obediently dropped the subject. “So, what did you do this morning? Just stayed in that broken lab?”

Silence.

She hadn’t realized the weight of her words. Seeing Tang Cheng and Yu Xia’an quiet, Yuan Jie quickly pulled her aside. “Don’t say that, Lin. Tang lost to Xie this morning. And don’t call the lab that in front of the boss.”

Lin Xin blinked. “That lab?”

Yuan Jie nodded. “That one.”

“Oh. Broken thing.”

Yu Xia’an snapped. “Lin Xin, if you want to keep entering Group Five, shut your mouth.”

The three laughed, but Tang Cheng couldn’t. Their laughter only deepened her shame.

“Don’t brood. Xie Chensong is one of the brightest young mechanics. You’ve been away for years. Losing is normal.”

Not normal. Her memory was still sharp at twenty. She hadn’t left the field. It wasn’t about winning or losing—it was why Yuan Jie could fix the chip and she couldn’t.

“Exactly, Tang. You’re just starting with this equipment. It’s normal to struggle.”

Not normal. A true mechanic doesn’t lose to tools. She had used her best instruments. She hadn’t fallen behind. She simply couldn’t repair that chip.

“Try again next time.”

There was no next time. Tang Cheng wouldn’t give herself another chance. Losing was losing. Machines decay, durability fades. She could discard a chip, but she couldn’t repair it. The result was clear.

“I’m heading back.”

She rejected their comfort, returning to Group Five, burying herself in cutting-edge technology.

Lin Xin pouted. “Losing to Chensong isn’t a big deal.”

“Shut up,” Yu Xia’an snapped, too tired to argue. “That’s not how you comfort someone.”

Lin Xin shrugged, unconcerned. She leaned closer. “So, what else did Chensong do today? Tell me.”

Tang Cheng returned to the room, but Xie Chensong was already gone.

Once she started working, time slipped away quickly.

By the time she lifted her shoulders again, the sun was setting. Tang Cheng rubbed her sore neck, picked up her phone, and realized it was already the end of the workday.

There was also a message from Lu Xinxue.

Instinctively, she set the phone face down on the desk, unwilling to think about facing her.

After a pause, she picked it up again and replied: “I’ll be right there.”

She grabbed the cake, nodded to Yu Xia’an outside the door, and took the elevator down to meet Lu Xinxue.

In the underground garage, Tang Cheng drew a deep breath. She forced a perfect smile at her reflection in the glass before daring to knock on Lu Xinxue’s car door.

Inside, Lu Xinxue was still reviewing contracts. Seeing Tang Cheng, she put her papers away and gestured for her to enter.

“Why so late today?”

The casual remark made Tang Cheng flinch. She quickly handed over the cake. “Try it. I bought it fresh today.”

Lu Xinxue’s eyes lingered on hers before dropping to the cake. She freed one hand to take it. “Thank you.”

By the time Sun Qiang drove them home, Tang Cheng’s fingertips were numb from rubbing against each other.

Beside her, Lu Xinxue sat upright, long legs crossed, delicate hands resting on her lap. Though her gaze was fixed forward, her eyes kept sliding sideways, sometimes to Tang Cheng’s fingers, sometimes to her tightly pressed lips.

When Tang Cheng turned to look, Lu Xinxue closed her eyes.

She heard Tang Cheng’s soft voice at her ear: “Axin, we’re home.”

Lu Xinxue opened her eyes slowly, preparing to get out.

As usual, Tang Cheng cooked dinner. But tonight, Lu Xinxue didn’t go upstairs. She sat on the sofa, holding the book she hadn’t finished the other day.

She didn’t read a word. Her eyes stayed fixed on Tang Cheng in the kitchen, sharp and unrelenting.

Distracted, unsettled, her gaze glimmered.

She carried bowls and chopsticks into the kitchen, then sat at the table, waiting for Tang Cheng to join her.

When Tang Cheng sat down, Lu Xinxue asked first: “Was today difficult?”

Tang Cheng froze, silent, unmoving.

Lu Xinxue’s chopsticks paused. Seeing her refusal to answer, she picked up a piece of spicy chicken, chewed, tasteless.

“Nothing you want to tell me?” she pressed.

Tang Cheng forced a smile, placing another piece of food into her bowl. “Yu Senior Sister takes good care of me. Don’t worry.”

Her brows curved with laughter.

Lu Xinxue looked down at the chicken, ate it, still tasteless.

“Alright.”

She asked no more.

Relieved, Tang Cheng continued serving her, adding another piece of chicken, though she herself avoided the spice, choosing vegetables instead.

She hadn’t expected Lu Xinxue to ask about her day. She could hide it for now but how long could she keep hiding?

She wanted to conceal the truth, but results never lie. Lu Xinxue had finally allowed her into Lu Corporation. Their relationship had finally eased. Would she lose it all because of her failure in mechanics?

Tang Cheng took a deep breath, ate a few bites, then set down her chopsticks. “Axin, I’ll shower first.”

Lu Xinxue gave no reply, only silence. The chicken dish was nearly gone, still tasteless.

In the bathroom, steam filled the air. Tang Cheng braced herself against the sink, chest heavy with suffocation. In the mirror, her long hair hung loose, her sharp features drawn tight, her arms lean and strong, her body bare.

She wrapped herself in a robe, reluctant to face Lu Xinxue.

Years ago, she had been the most promising mechanic, Lu Xinxue’s childhood companion. Six years later, Lu Xinxue still shone brighter than ever, while she couldn’t even repair a single chip.

Equipment had advanced, tools had changed. Winning or losing didn’t matter. What mattered was that chip. If she couldn’t even study that, how could she ever develop the new bio-linked material chip she dreamed of?

She had no retreat. She refused to be a caged canary, a useless ornament. Exhaling heavily, she clenched her fists and left the bathroom.

By then, Lu Xinxue had already cleaned the dishes. They didn’t meet downstairs.

Tang Cheng crouched by the sofa. On it lay Principles of Mechanics, the book Lu Xinxue had been reading these past two days.

She opened it. It was a newly published text, experimental in focus, exactly what she needed to catch up on.

On the stairs, Lu Xinxue paused, watching her every move. She rested her hand on the wooden railing, feeling its grain, then turned back upstairs.

That night, Tang Cheng lay on the sofa and dreamed of their engagement day.

Lu Xinxue had been so young, wearing the ring Tang Cheng had placed on her finger, her face full of expectation. They had embraced, kissed before witnesses, sealing their bond.

Days of love followed until Tang Cheng could no longer produce new chips.

Lu Xinxue: “Let’s divorce.”

Soaked in despair, Tang Cheng sat opposite her, pen trembling, signing her name on the contract.

“Take care.”

“Take care.”

Rain thundered outside. Tang Cheng slumped against the wall, drained of all strength.

On the sofa, she woke slowly, limbs cold, as though rain still clung to her skin. Another nightmare. In it, she and Lu Xinxue divorced, after years of love, they parted ways.

She wiped away tears, the nightmare etched deep, impossible to shake. Sleep was lost again.

In the dark, she turned and saw eyes gleaming from the stairwell.

Her heart jolted, then calmed. It was Lu Xinxue.

Tang Cheng whispered, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Lu Xinxue replied, “I came for water.”

She lifted her arm, showing the mug in her hand.

Tang Cheng saw it too. She switched on the living room light. “Sit?”

Lu Xinxue didn’t refuse. She came forward, sat beside her. Close enough to see the sweat on Tang Cheng’s brow.

Lu Xinxue said softly, “If you’re unhappy, rest properly. Don’t force yourself.”