After Redeeming the Female Lead, I Faked My Death and Escaped - Chapter 15

The sobbing suddenly stopped.

Sheng Qiuyu lifted her tear-streaked face, her lashes damp and clumped together, the corners of her eyes flushed with a striking red that made her look utterly pitiful. “You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

“All Alphas are like this,” Sheng Qiuyu bit her lip. “Only good at sweet-talking.”

Ying Xu handed her a tissue, unfolding it first.

“Everyone likes to hear sweet words,” Ying Xu said. “As long as they make you happy, that’s all that matters.”

Sheng Qiuyu took the tissue and wiped her tears haphazardly before quickly turning away, not wanting Ying Xu to see her expression.

But the crimson tips of her ears were far too obvious against the snowy backdrop. After a long pause, Ying Xu finally heard Sheng Qiuyu huff, “You can say these things to me, but don’t go around saying them to others”

Ying Xu still preferred it when Sheng Qiuyu spoke to her in that spoiled, willful tone.

Sheng Qiuyu didn’t press the topic further.

She knew all too well that if anyone was suffering the most from Gu Qingzhu’s cruelty, it was Ying Xu.

Just as Ying Xu didn’t want to see her cry, Sheng Qiuyu couldn’t bear to see that fragile, vulnerable look on Ying Xu’s face either.

But that didn’t mean she could just let the matter slide.

Ying Xu didn’t fight back because she lacked the means and because she was kind.

But Sheng Qiuyu had the means, didn’t she?

After a few seconds of silence, Sheng Qiuyu hesitated before saying, “I have another scene to shoot later, and I can’t postpone it. You… don’t ride in Gu Qingzhu’s car anymore, okay? I’ll take you home.”

“If you’re afraid she’ll find out, I can drop you off near the estate.”

She offered two solutions, but Ying Xu still refused without hesitation.

Gu Qingzhu’s current state was extremely unstable. Though Ying Xu didn’t know the exact reason, if the woman decided to lash out, dragging Ying Xu down with her would be more than enough.

“Go ahead with your work.”

Seeing Sheng Qiuyu’s lips droop again, Ying Xu reached for the scarf.

The fabric was of exceptional quality, just wearing it for this short while had already chased away all the winter chill from Ying Xu’s body. It was rare for her to feel warmth in the cold season.

“You don’t have to return it. Keep it for a few days,” Sheng Qiuyu said, pursing her lips. “Of course, I didn’t specify how many ‘a few’ means… You can give it back when I ask for it.”

As if realizing her words sounded too harsh, she blinked and added, “Okay?”

As long as Ying Xu didn’t return it, the two would always have a reason to meet.

Ying Xu couldn’t help but chuckle at the obvious little “scheme” and agreed.

Not long after Sheng Qiuyu left, the same cat from earlier reappeared out of nowhere, clearly still craving the biscuits.

Ying Xu reached out, hesitantly stroking its tiny head. The cat, ever so obliging, nuzzled against her palm. The warmth of its fur made Ying Xu’s lips curve into a smile, and she exhaled softly, finally feeling a little more at ease.

Her gaze softened as she prepared to take a video to send to Sheng Qiuyu. But the moment she unlocked her phone, an unfamiliar text message appeared on the screen.

The smile vanished from Ying Xu’s lips the second she opened it.

Over a dozen photos filled the message. The earliest one dated back to the day Ying Xu had accompanied Gu Qingzhu to the set. From then on, every interaction between the two had been captured, no matter how secluded the location, the sender had managed to snap a photo of Ying Xu standing outside the car.

Every single shot clearly showed Ying Xu’s face. In contrast, Gu Qingzhu had been far more cautious. The only time she appeared in any photo, it was nothing more than a slender, pale hand.

But a hand alone held no identifying features.

A chill ran down Ying Xu’s back.

As her fingers swiped across the screen, she soon reached the last image, a composite of two photos, with a timestamp in the upper right corner.

One showed Ying Xu calmly opening the car door, her neck free of injuries, her movements utterly natural. The other, taken half an hour later, captured the woman in the driver’s seat looking flustered, her neck marred by obvious bruises.

Just as she finished scrolling, a call came in from a contact named “Qing Zhu.”

Without any pleasantries, Gu Qingzhu recited an address. Her voice was icy, like a gust of wind cutting straight through Ying Xu, wrenching her from the illusion of warmth.

“Five minutes,” Gu Qingzhu said coldly. “That’s all the patience I have.”

The car fell into dead silence.

In the rearview mirror, Gu Qingzhu tapped open the images on her screen again. She had done this several times already, and her assistant, noticing, spoke with even greater caution. “Qing Zhu, Sister Shan is already handling it, but she hasn’t been able to reach them yet. We don’t know which media outlet is behind this. Calling Ying Xu over now she.”

“Of course I know she’s useless,” Gu Qingzhu interrupted. “But since when do I need your permission to do anything?”

The assistant fell silent.

Truthfully, even Gu Qingzhu couldn’t explain why she had summoned Ying Xu.

Perhaps she wanted to soothe her nerves with Ying Xu’s pheromones. Or perhaps, when trouble arose, the first person she thought of was an Alpha.

Gu Qingzhu lowered her eyes, her gaze tinged with agitation.

As a public figure, being secretly photographed was nothing new. But in the past, those who took the photos would always contact her agency first, settling things discreetly with money.

This was the first time someone had reached out to her directly.

Just as Gu Qingzhu frowned, about to urge Shan Qiaoyun to hurry, another message arrived from an unknown number.

Assuming it was more photos related to Ying Xu, Gu Qingzhu opened it with a cold expression, only to find a brief, few-second video.

Almost as soon as the video began playing, the familiar setting made Gu Qingzhu’s heart lurch.

In a laboratory, surrounded by machinery and experimental equipment, a Beta woman in a white trench coat appeared first in the frame.

Her shoulder-length hair swayed as she held a file, jotting down data. On the computer screen beside her, lines of code ran through calculations. Noticing the camera, she glanced over, her peach-blossom eyes brimming with warmth and a smile so gentle it felt like basking in spring sunlight.

“Filming me?” she said, walking toward the person behind the camera.

Xu Ying.

The moment she heard the woman’s voice, Gu Qingzhu’s fingers tightened around the screen, her knuckles turning white.

There was no mistake. This wasn’t AI-generated it was Xu Ying’s real voice.

In her memories, outside of public settings, Xu Ying had never been fond of cameras.

Yet, during their passionate early days, whenever Gu Qingzhu occasionally asked for a photo together, Xu Ying would always agree with infinite patience, offering the exact expressions Gu Qingzhu wanted, whether it was against a sunset, over dinner, or at some tourist attraction.

Even now, Gu Qingzhu still remembered their first date.

The sunset, the sea breeze, the waves rolling in, churning up white sand.

Xu Ying had been handling messages. Young and accomplished, whether in her social circles or the lab, there were always people who needed her.

Gu Qingzhu had hesitantly asked, “Am I, interrupting your work?”

For once, she had felt uncertain.

Even though Gu Qingzhu had always been proud, standing before Xu Ying, whose family background and career achievements were no less impressive than her own, she couldn’t help but feel transparent and insignificant.

Xu Ying looked at her.

The woman had a pair of exceptionally amorous peach-blossom eyes, their corners slightly upturned: “Of course not.”

“On the contrary, it’s me who didn’t manage my time well, disappointing Qingzhu.” She paused, her expression turning serious. “It’s my fault, and I sincerely apologize.”

“Next time, may I still invite Qingzhu here? We arrived a bit late this time and never got to see the sunrise ”

This trip had been Gu Qingzhu’s idea.

She knew Xu Ying was busy with work, yet she still hoped for more opportunities to spend time with her. To that end, the Beta had turned down numerous commitments, rearranged her schedule, all just to ensure Gu Qingzhu could enjoy herself.

Compared to Xu Ying’s open-hearted generosity, Gu Qingzhu only felt all the more wretched.

She didn’t even know how to respond, simply staring at Xu Ying in silence. The woman wasn’t impatient, gazing back at her with eyes gentler than warm sunlight.

“Wouldn’t it trouble you?”

Xu Ying smiled. “Qingzhu’s thoughts will always come first.”

There had been many nights when, tormented by illness, Gu Qingzhu would revisit those photos over and over.

She knew full well it wouldn’t ease her suffering in the slightest. Yet every time she saw Xu Ying, she couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude.

In this wretched world, she still looked forward to watching the sunrise with someone the next day.

For a time, that had been the meaning of Gu Qingzhu’s life.

Until an accident shattered her small wish.

The equipment had since been sealed away in a box, along with all the memories, abruptly locked away.

Nowadays, Gu Qingzhu rarely allowed herself to miss Xu Ying.

The happiness she’d shared with that woman had been so fleeting, she didn’t want to exhaust it all now.

In the few seconds Gu Qingzhu was lost in thought, another figure appeared behind Xu Ying in the video.

This woman was slightly taller than Xu Ying, her lips pressed tightly together. Even when she noticed the camera, she remained silent, her eyes as still as an ancient well.

Xu Ying and Ying Xu.

This video had been filmed years ago.

Had someone from the lab recorded it, then sold it to a reporter, who then used it to threaten her?

Countless thoughts flashed through Gu Qingzhu’s mind.

But only one lingered.

If so… did they have more videos related to Xu Ying?

Perhaps it was because she’d spent so much time with Ying Xu, but the moment she saw the video, Gu Qingzhu even had the illusion that the person in it was Ying Xu, not Xu Ying.

That fleeting confusion sent a chill through her.

Xu Ying was Xu Ying, Ying Xu was Ying Xu.

Ying Xu could never compare to Xu Ying in the slightest.

Just as Gu Qingzhu tightened her grip on her phone, carefully weighing her words.

The car window was suddenly knocked on.

Her assistant was the first to react, using the controls to lower the rear window. The sound of slightly labored breathing immediately filled Gu Qingzhu’s ears.

“Qingzhu.”

Gu Qingzhu lifted her gaze to find Ying Xu standing outside the window.

Her sweater had been rolled down at some point, the marks on her skin still vivid, a constant reminder of the cruel violence Gu Qingzhu had inflicted the night before.

When their eyes met, the Alpha visibly hesitated, instinctively lowering her gaze before forcing herself to meet Gu Qingzhu’s stare.

She seemed to have run all the way here, her ears and face flushed red. “I got the mess”

“I’m aware of this matter.” Gu Qingzhu’s gaze lingered on the wound for a second before she averted her eyes. She resumed flipping through the photos sent by the other party, feigning nonchalance as she said, “If there’s any new information, I’ll have Xiao Lu relay it to you. You can go now.”

If before seeing the video, Gu Qingzhu had still been somewhat troubled by the photos, at this moment, all those worries had completely vanished.

All Gu Qingzhu wanted now was more information related to Xu Ying.

As for those photos, none of them had captured Gu Qingzhu’s face directly.

If the other party really intended to expose anything, Gu Qingzhu only needed to flatly deny it, and the entire matter wouldn’t have the slightest connection to her.

Gu Qingzhu’s sudden cold demeanor was starkly different from the urgency she had displayed on the phone just moments ago.

Ying Xu couldn’t understand what had happened in those few minutes to provoke such a change.

Though she was somewhat irritated by the other’s unpredictability, she had to admit, after what happened last night compared to being “played” like this by Gu Qingzhu, Ying Xu found herself even more resistant to interacting with her at all.

Ying Xu secretly felt relieved.

But Gu Qingzhu mistook her silence for resentment. Watching her quiet demeanor, the Omega found herself at a loss for words.

Just as Gu Qingzhu furrowed her brows, debating whether to offer some form of consolation or simply coldly dismiss her, the screen lit up again. Over a dozen photos abruptly refreshed across the display.

[Being with the person who killed Xu Ying do you ever think of Xu Ying?]

Black background, red text message after message flooded in, each one repeating the same sentence. The bolded words lay bare before their eyes, as if tearing apart the fragile veil between them.

The undercurrents of tension were now laid out in the open. Ying Xu could clearly sense the shift in Gu Qingzhu’s breathing, the unsettling rhythm of it. The calm in her eyes had vanished.

“Qingzhu!” The assistant, though unaware of the messages, immediately noticed the shift in Gu Qingzhu’s mood and turned to intervene.

If Ying Xu could act on her own will, she would have turned and left without hesitation, refusing to face the woman’s potential second outburst.

But she was Ying Xu, the Ying Xu who would listen patiently no matter what Gu Qingzhu said.

“I deeply regret it.”

Gu Qingzhu’s lips parted slightly, but the words that followed were far beyond Ying Xu’s expectations.

“Last night, I should have been more ruthless.”

“I deeply regret it.”

Each sentence clung like a festering wound.

Ying Xu looked up in shock, only to meet a pair of icy, detached eyes.

It was like peering through glass into a lifeless winter night.

Her heartbeat stuttered, breath catching in her throat.