After My Fiancée Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha - Chapter 36

The summer morning light filtered through the thin hotel curtains, spilling across the pristine white sheets. Inside, the room was a mess—clothes scattered on the floor, bags, a bed runner, tissues—all bearing silent witness to the unspeakable chaos of the night before.

From the nightstand, a phone alarm rang. A slender arm stretched out from beneath the blanket, fumbling for the device, silencing it before tossing the quilt aside.

A cascade of striking red hair spread across the bed. The woman raised a hand to her forehead, eyes slowly opening. Beside her lay another woman, her shoulder-length hair tousled, revealing the delicate curve of her ear.

The red-haired woman nudged her companion, as if to rise, but was pulled back into a firm embrace. Skin against skin, nothing between them. The short-haired woman leaned close, whispering at her ear:

“Don’t rush. Let Lu Xinxue wait a little longer.”

At the mention of that name, the red-haired woman snapped awake, forcing herself past exhaustion. She shoved the other away, her voice cold and detached:

“Tang Qinggu!”

“I’m here.”

The soft, exquisite red hair belonged to Zhong Rou. Last night had truly been nothing but an accident.

She slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Hot water splashed noisily against the tiles.

Between her and Tang Qinggu, it had always been a transaction—desire for one, ambition for the other. Zhong Rou sought passion; Tang Qinggu sought leverage. Tang Qinggu wanted to use her as a bridge to Lu Xinxue. Zhong Rou never acknowledged it, pretending not to hear, maintaining this fragile arrangement for far too long.

Until Lu Xinxue herself asked Zhong Rou to deliver a message. Refusing to play along, Zhong Rou cut ties unilaterally—ignoring calls, blocking her on WeChat. That lasted until yesterday, when at a designer’s gathering, fate placed Tang Qinggu in the neighboring private room.

Enemies meet on narrow roads. Tang Qinggu had cornered her in the restroom stall. Though a Beta carried no pheromones, her kiss still left Zhong Rou weak at the knees. Whispering at her ear, Tang Qinggu asked only: “Do you have time?” And against her better judgment, Zhong Rou answered.

Time and again, Zhong Rou reminded herself: this woman was a venomous snake, not to be provoked. Each separation demanded boundaries, yet every reunion shattered them, forcing new lines to be drawn—an endless cycle.

This time, Zhong Rou resolved: she must sever ties completely.

When she emerged, Tang Qinggu’s eyes opened slowly. A faint smile lingered at her lips, but her gaze was cool, distant.

The woman on the bed didn’t rise. Tilting her head, she studied Zhong Rou, her expression shifting swiftly—tenderness mingled with provocation.

Zhong Rou’s heartbeat quickened, her steps faltering. She knew that look, knew Tang Qinggu was scheming again.

“You’d better restrain yourself today,” she warned.

Tang Qinggu sighed. “I need to make money too.”

“You!” Zhong Rou choked on her words, finally spitting, “Opportunist. Shameless.”

“If you don’t fight for profit, what’s the point of living?”

“Tang Qinggu, you’re pitiful.”

“Then spoil me.”

Zhong Rou glared, bent down, and tossed her shirt onto Tang Qinggu’s face. Her eyes were so earnest, Zhong Rou nearly believed her. “Get dressed. Get up.”

Tang Qinggu didn’t argue. She slipped out of bed, searching for her clothes with calm indifference. Zhong Rou leaned against the table, brazenly watching the naked figure before her.

Last night had been reckless. Yet Tang Qinggu had left no marks on her, while Zhong Rou had been bold—scratches covered Tang Qinggu’s back, nearly tearing her skin, her collarbone and chest bearing the worst of it. Noticing Zhong Rou’s gaze, Tang Qinggu looked down, chuckling:

“Are you a dog?”

“Get lost!”

Tang Qinggu showered quickly, barely ten minutes. Zhong Rou hadn’t even finished her makeup before they rushed out together.

After dropping Zhong Rou home, Tang Qinggu drove to her appointment.

Winning Lu Xinxue was no easy feat. At first, she pinned her hopes on her younger sister Tang Cheng, but the girl was useless.

So, Tang Qinggu shifted her target. While on a business trip to France, attending a fashion show, she had crossed paths with Zhong Rou. Learning of Zhong Rou’s unforgettable ex, she seized the chance to get close. Tang Qinggu spent months investigating that ex’s habits and preferences, even cutting her own long hair to match.

At a banquet, she carried away a drunken Zhong Rou, praised her attentiveness, and offered her lips. That night, Tang Qinggu herself blurred the lines of identity, but her plan had already taken its first step.

The ambiguous atmosphere didn’t last. Zhong Rou soon saw through her intentions. Beyond the bed, her words were sharp, merciless. At least Tang Qinggu knew Zhong Rou could distinguish her from that ex—Zhong Rou never ordered her around, never looked at her with disdain. Tang Qinggu cherished those fleeting moments of ease.

But now, she had lingered too long. In the teahouse, Lu Xinxue was waiting.

“President Lu, long time no see.”

Tang Qinggu extended her hand. She held Lu Xinxue in high regard—young, accomplished. Though only three years older, Lu’s achievements dwarfed her own. And here she was, forced to meet her this way, seeking cooperation.

“Did I disturb you last night?” Lu Xinxue asked.

Tang Qinggu froze, instantly understanding. She smiled lightly. “Not at all.” No trace of embarrassment showed.

“Good. Let’s talk business.”

Lu Xinxue’s face was expressionless, a stark contrast to Tang Qinggu’s smile.

“I know you’ve been maneuvering in your company, clearing out rivals,” Lu said bluntly. “Whatever you need, just say it.”

“Liu Xiangqin is nothing. The Tang family is mine, and will only ever be mine.” Tang Qinggu’s tone carried a fierce resolve.

She had already ousted Tang Siyuan, and had calculated her escape routes. Even if the Tang family suffered, she would not hesitate. One Liu Xiangqin was manageable, though corporate politics remained tricky.

“Why don’t you state your terms first, so I can make an offer?” Tang Qinggu smiled. Seeing Lu Xinxue remain silent, she added, “You’re a businesswoman. Surely you don’t do charity for free.”

“We will never be enemies,” Lu Xinxue replied coolly. “You already know my purpose. You approached me with that hope, gambling small against big. Why ask again?”

Tang Qinggu’s smile faded. Lu Xinxue knew everything. The balance of power shifted instantly.

Two years ago, Tang Qinggu learned Lu Xinxue was preparing to transfer assets under Tang Cheng’s name. She deduced the outcome of the Lu–Gu rivalry: Lu Xinxue wanted to leave Tang Cheng a way out.

So, Tang Qinggu drew close to Tang Cheng, hoping to leverage their sisterhood into cooperation with the Lu family. If Lu Xinxue wished to protect Tang Cheng, then Tang Qinggu—more useful than real estate was the better choice.

With that expectation, she maneuvered through Tang Cheng, eventually reaching Zhong Rou. Yet in the end, Lu Xinxue saw through it all, stripping her of bargaining chips.

“What do you want?” Lu Xinxue asked coldly.

Tang Qinggu feigned a troubled look, then said directly: “I want to acquire all of Lu Corporation’s internet businesses, at seventy percent above market value.”

Silence fell.

Lu Xinxue’s gaze remained calm. Lu Corporation’s internet division held over half the market, its value doubling year after year. Tang Qinggu wanted to buy it at prices from three years ago.

“Greed like a snake swallowing an elephant,” Lu said evenly. “At this rate, there’s no deal.”

“Zhong Rou told me this morning to restrain myself,” Tang Qinggu chuckled, then grew serious. “Eighty percent. No less.”

Lu Xinxue’s eyes swept over her. “No deal.”

She rose, unwilling to waste more words. Tang Qinggu was playing the demolition game—offering an outrageous condition first, then retreating to a lesser demand. Yet the true price she sought remained unspoken.

Even without saying it aloud, Lu Xinxue already knew what she wanted.

When Lu Xinxue left and the door closed, Tang Qinggu raised a hand to rub her lips, smiling with a trace of weariness. Lu Xinxue was still Lu Xinxue—composed, unshaken, able to come and go freely. Not even Tang Qinggu’s outrageous demands had stirred her; she remained as steady as a mountain.

But then, how had she known Tang Qinggu approached her for the sake of protecting Tang Cheng?

At times, Tang Qinggu had hinted at things to Zhong Rou, but she would never be foolish enough to reveal everything outright.

As she pondered, a sudden thought struck, chilling her with cold sweat. What if, from the very beginning, the news of Lu Xinxue’s asset transfer had been deliberately leaked to her, bait to make her approach first?

That would mean the initiative had always been in Lu Xinxue’s hands. All the scheming had been hers alone, while the proud Lu Xinxue never needed to bow her head, still able to conclude the deal effortlessly, gaining everything without loss.

If that was true, this sister-in-law was truly terrifying. Tang Qinggu’s little tricks would be nothing in her eyes. Leaning back in her chair, Tang Qinggu realized that if so, her years of careful plotting were laughable. After a long pause, she relaxed. If Lu Xinxue had said they would never be enemies, then perhaps she should feel at ease.

After a moment, she rose. Since Lu Xinxue wasn’t in a hurry, neither was she. She wanted to see just how patient this woman could be.

Taking out her phone, she tried to message Zhong Rou—only to find she had been deleted again. Her face darkened. She drove straight to Zhong Rou’s home.

Zhong Rou, who had returned early, lay down to catch up on sleep. After last night’s chaos, she hadn’t rested properly. Just before drifting into dreams, she received a call from Lu Xinxue, who recounted the negotiation. Zhong Rou immediately knew Tang Qinggu wouldn’t yield so easily.

“I told you long ago, she can’t be trusted.”

On the other end, Lu Xinxue continued explaining.

“Forget it, Xin. Don’t waste your energy on her.”

The doorbell rang. Zhong Rou assumed it was the new drawing boards she had ordered. But when she opened the door, she was met with a playful smile.

Instinctively, she tried to shut the door, hanging up her call in haste. But a hand blocked the door.

“What, turning your back on me again?”

“How did you get here?” Zhong Rou sighed, knowing she couldn’t resist, and let her in.

“Add me back on WeChat.” Tang Qinggu’s tone was firm.

“President Tang is clever enough to know exactly what I mean.”

It was the same refrain—cutting ties. Tang Qinggu brushed it off.

“Didn’t you say something different last time?”

Zhong Rou wrinkled her nose, feigning ferocity. Tang Qinggu found it amusing, such a paper tiger.

“No.”

“I’ll be away for a week this time. A long while.”

Hands on her hips, Zhong Rou still watched her carefully. “You’ve already used me to meet Lu Xinxue. Do we really need to stay in contact?”

The atmosphere shifted, fragile, as if a thin sheet of paper had been pierced. Tang Qinggu was the first to falter, hesitating before asking:

“So ruthless?” Her eyes carried a rare seriousness.

Zhong Rou noticed, but turned her gaze away. “Let’s draw the line here.”

There seemed no room for reconciliation. Tang Qinggu nodded, smiling faintly. “Zhong Rou, I’m truly leaving.”

This time, they did not fall back into the endless cycle of breaking boundaries only to cross them again.

Zhong Rou didn’t look back. Tang Qinggu truly left.

Lu Xinxue, whose call had been abruptly cut off, stared at her phone in surprise. Lately, people seemed to enjoy hanging up without warning.

At the company, Lu Xinxue had no time to call again. She hurried into a meeting.

Yu Xia’an went to attend, Yuan Jie headed for maintenance, leaving only Tang Cheng, Yu Fan, and Xie Chensong in the office.

Xie Chensong had already sketched designs days ago. Over the weekend, Yuan Jie divided the materials. Today, Yu Fan was in the lab running program checks, while Tang Cheng brought in the mechanical arm, redesigning the materials needed for the chip.

Truthfully, she had no clear ideas about bioenergy. Years ago, Yu Xia’an had provided data, allowing her to run experiments with materials that could capture biological signals.

But the data was sealed, the experiments denied. She couldn’t even obtain the materials anymore.

It seemed she could only turn to Yu Xia’an. Yet that woman was secretive, unwilling to reveal the mystery anytime soon.

Tang Cheng wanted to know why she had chosen mechanics. She was waiting for herself to give an answer, but every answer she offered was rejected. Perhaps even Yu Xia’an didn’t know what the answer should be.

She had asked Xie Chensong, who simply said: “Because I like it.” So, this morning, Tang Cheng copied that answer and brought it back to Yu Xia’an, only to be dismissed. “That’s not your true feeling.”

Tang Cheng seethed inwardly. She didn’t want to admit it, yet kept inventing excuses.

Two other teams delivered mechanical kits. She and Xie Chensong split the work, repairing them at their stations. With the aid of the mechanical arm, Tang Cheng worked swiftly, identifying two issues in no time, documenting them, and sending the kits back.

“You’re combining WF734’s brainwave conversion?” Xie Chensong noticed the crystalline chip on her head. “Ingenious design.”

“Thanks.”

Tang Cheng acknowledged her sensitivity to mechanics.

“If you’re willing, I’d like a mechanical arm like that too. My strength is limited, it hinders assembly.” Xie Chensong asked.

“Of course. I’ll send you the blueprints and program. I’m left-handed, so you’ll need to adjust some details.” Tang Cheng forwarded the files. A glance at the arm reminded her, it was something she had built back in the academy. Back then, what had they said?

“Are you even a mechanic?”

“Trash. Opportunist.”

She couldn’t remember the rest. Later, she had taken the arm home. So much time had passed, she had even forgotten why she built it in the first place.