After Redeeming the Female Lead, I Faked My Death and Escaped - Chapter 35.3

Cheng Jun was surprised but kept her expression cold, thinking to herself of course she’s gone to find Gu Qingzhu.

The moment the call ended, Xu Ying had shown an unmistakable urgency, hastily excusing herself and leaving without giving anyone a chance to stop her.

From the alpha’s fragmented words, Cheng Jun easily pieced together the conversation, growing increasingly displeased with Gu Qingzhu if Xu Ying had only said that much, why had she even called in the first place?

Seeing Xu Ying start to reflect on herself only made Cheng Jun more irritated.

So, in a fit of anger, she got angry and that was it.

Never mind whether Xu Ying needed her to stand up for her.

If she actually did, and Gu Qingzhu redirected her hostility from Sheng Qiuyu to Cheng Jun, the mere thought of the ensuing conflict made Cheng Jun’s skin crawl.

If she didn’t intervene, there was still a slim chance Xu Ying would be kicked out by Gu Qingzhu.

The alpha still had belongings here. If she intended to retrieve them, Cheng Jun could wait and seize the opportunity.

But instead of an opportunity, she got a walking disaster.

As the two locked eyes, Cheng Jun couldn’t help but laugh at the omega’s furious expression.

“Xu Ying?” Cheng Jun drawled. “Xiao Yu, don’t you know? She’s almost accepted my pursuit. I’d appreciate it if you stopped bothering her from now on”

At the word “pursuit,” Sheng Qiuyu’s anger flared. But recalling the “almost,” she forced herself to stay calm: “Where is she really?”

Cheng Jun shrugged. “If you’re asking me, I have no idea.”

Sheng Qiuyu watched her indifferent demeanor, gritted her teeth with the intention to leave, but the more she thought about it, the more she felt something was amiss. If Cheng Yun truly didn’t know Xu Ying’s whereabouts, why would she be waiting here idly?

The omega sat down angrily.

Cheng Yun glanced at her, finding her utterly foolish but couldn’t be bothered to point it out.

“Cut”

When the director called for a stop, Gu Qingzhu stood still in place. Her fingers, clenched tightly during the scene, were now reddened, throbbing with a dull ache and itch.

She absentmindedly massaged them, scanning the surroundings, but Assistant Lu was nowhere to be seen.

Where had she gone? In the past, unless Gu Qingzhu had assigned her a task, the assistant would always wait until the shoot was over.

Frowning slightly, Gu Qingzhu walked toward the exit.

The moment she stepped out of the warm room, a cold breeze brushed against her face.

Yet the chill was far less biting than it had been months ago. Wrapped in her beige coat, Gu Qingzhu even felt a hint of warmth.

The beta was still missing.

Beyond the wall of the set, lively chatter filled the air. It seemed that once Gu Qingzhu left, the atmosphere relaxed, and people began talking freely.

As she walked further, the monotonous shadows of trees swayed in the wind, and beneath her boots, a thin layer of snow crunched like sand.

It was then that Gu Qingzhu noticed new buds sprouting on the trees. Unconsciously, spring was approaching.

Winter was nearly over, yet she had never paid attention.

Before, Gu Qingzhu had always felt time passed unbearably slowly, each day stretched into countless frames, draining her energy and emotions, an endless cycle.

When had it changed?

It seemed to be right after Xu Ying returned to the set.

Their shooting schedules varied daily sometimes early, sometimes late.

Though Gu Qingzhu never waited for Xu Ying after returning, the alpha still maintained her old habit of waiting for her. There was always a light left on for Gu Qingzhu, and for the first time, she felt an unprecedented… sense of security.

This emotion was fleeting yet profound. Despite Gu Qingzhu’s efforts to suppress it, her expression gradually softened day by day.

Perhaps soon, she would even smile at Xu Ying voluntarily.

It was then that the woman’s voice reached her ears.

“Mimi.” The tone was unusually affectionate, a softness Gu Qingzhu had never heard before.

She froze, turning toward the figure crouched by a tree, gently stroking something.

Xu Ying.

What was she doing here?

As she drew closer, the familiar scent of the alpha’s pheromones enveloped her, soothing some of Gu Qingzhu’s unease.

But before she could call out Xu Ying’s name.

She saw the creature being caressed by those slender fingers.

A pure white…

What was it?

It felt familiar, not because it was common on the contrary, Gu Qingzhu had never seen such a creature in over a decade.

Yet she had a vague impression of it.

In her memories, it hadn’t looked like this.

The cat before her had eyes like black obsidian. As it lifted its head, fragmented sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering golden flecks across its clear irises.

Its whiskers twitched in the breeze, and its meow was sharp yet sweet.

“Meow”

Xu Ying gazed at it, her smile genuine.

She had encountered the cat upon arriving at the set. Since Gu Qingzhu’s scene wasn’t over yet, Xu Ying had indulged in petting it without a second thought.

At some point, Assistant Lu had passed by and, seeing the pair, kindly bought snacks for the cat.

The last time I saw it was a long time ago. There were many kind-hearted people in the crew, and over the months, it had grown rounder.

So adorable.

When touching its soft fur, its breath and heartbeat were so vivid.

So adorable.

Just like this moment, as if this cat belonged only to her.

Ying Xu relaxed even more, the cat nuzzled against her hand, clearly signaling it wanted another can opened.

So cute.

Ying Xu grew even more at ease, rubbing the cat with enthusiasm. Her fingers brushed against the can tab, about to open it, when suddenly, the system emitted a sharp, piercing alert in her ears.

[Gu Qingzhu’s favorability -10. Current favorability: -58!

Host, please strictly monitor the female lead’s health.]

Ying Xu’s hand froze mid-air. She abruptly looked up to find Gu Qingzhu standing not far away.

The omega had been watching for who knew how long, her face devoid of color, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the cat. Beneath her sleeves, her hands trembled.

Her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood in just that short span of time.

Even in the hospital, she had never worn such an expression, as if all other thoughts had been violently stripped away, leaving only pure terror within her body.

Ying Xu suddenly didn’t know how to soothe Gu Qingzhu.

She had always believed that after everything they’d been through, no matter how Gu Qingzhu’s emotions shifted, she could quickly figure out a way to respond.

But now, Ying Xu felt as if her brain had short-circuited, as if the world had slowed for a beat. All she could do was watch helplessly as Gu Qingzhu walked toward her, her only option to rise to her feet in turn.

The cat darted away, its white figure disappearing into the snow-covered buildings.

Gu Qingzhu stopped in front of Ying Xu, her gaze still chasing after the vanished figure.

Though she said nothing, Ying Xu could guess in her shock Gu Qingzhu didn’t just dislike cats. She loathed them.

Yet neither the plot nor anyone around her had ever warned Ying Xu about this.

Was it really just hatred for cats? Or had she discovered something else “Ying Xu” had done wrong in that short time, wanting to confront her directly?

Ying Xu’s thoughts raced, her eyes locked onto Gu Qingzhu’s face, unwilling to miss even the slightest shift in the omega’s expression.

Gu Qingzhu finally tore her gaze away and spoke immediately after: “Qingzhu”

But the next second, her voice cut off again.

Because Gu Qingzhu had pulled out a pack of wet wipes.

She lowered her eyes, tore open the packaging with near brutality, and thrust one toward Ying Xu’s right hand.

“Clean it.” At this close distance, Ying Xu could hear every one of Gu Qingzhu’s breaths ragged and uneven, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, the cracks were undeniable.

Clean it? Her hand that had touched the cat?

Ying Xu slowly wiped her palm with the tissue, the dampness trailing over her skin. The entire time, Gu Qingzhu stared unblinkingly at her movements, not looking away for a second.

After both sides of the wipe had been used, Gu Qingzhu said, “Again.”

Ying Xu could only take out another.

But this time, Gu Qingzhu didn’t let her do it herself. Instead, she gripped Ying Xu’s wrist tightly, forcibly rubbing the wet wipe against her fingers and palm. Her movements were frantic, as rapid as her breathing. The wipe frayed into shreds under the friction, clinging to both their hands.

By the end, most of the tissue had disintegrated, the act of cleaning devolving into dry skin scraping against skin. Ying Xu’s fingers were rubbed raw and red. She felt the pain, yet her gaze remained fixed on Gu Qingzhu in stunned confusion.

A second wipe, then a third,

By the time nearly the entire pack was gone, Gu Qingzhu finally snapped out of her nightmarish trance.

The sight of glaring red greeted her. Her movements halted abruptly as memories flooded back—in an instant, she realized what she had just done.

Gu Qingzhu looked up in shock, only to meet a pair of gently curved eyes.

Those eyes held concern, yet concealed a hint of lingering tenderness.

“Qingzhu.”

She heard Yingxu call her name in that same soft tone as always, as if she felt no pain.

“Can you let go of me now?”

When she spoke these words, there was even a trace of regret in her voice.

Regret for what?

Gu Qingzhu almost couldn’t bear to look at Yingxu’s face.

Yet, against her own thoughts, as she watched, the Alpha’s lashes fluttered, and a teardrop rolled down her cheek.

“Don’t be angry.”

Even now, Yingxu still found a suitable reason for Gu Qingzhu’s sudden outburst.

“I know Qingzhu isn’t afraid of others misunderstanding us, she’s just worried that people might use this to attack and slander me.”

“Qingzhu is doing this for my sake.”

Earlier, Gu Qingzhu had let go of Yingxu’s hand on her own.

But now, the woman took Gu Qingzhu’s bloodstained hand in her clean left one.

Her movements were hesitant, not because Gu Qingzhu’s hand was dirty, but because she feared this gesture might displease her.

Only when she noticed Gu Qingzhu wasn’t resisting just holding her breath, staring intently, did Yingxu cautiously intertwine their fingers. After a moment’s thought, she pressed Gu Qingzhu’s icy palm against her own neck.

“So cold,” Yingxu murmured softly, her tone calm, as if simply stating a fact.

Gu Qingzhu’s throat felt parched.

She couldn’t speak, didn’t know how to speak.

Guilt pierced her like an arrow, pinning her in place before Yingxu.

Despite being hurt by her, Yingxu still took the initiative to hold her hand, guiding it back here just to make her feel secure.

Beneath her palm, the rise and fall of breathing was unmistakable.

In this moment, the person before her belonged to her alone. Not out of love or desire, but to mend a long-broken gap.

Perhaps it was an instant, or perhaps much longer, before Gu Qingzhu heard herself say, “Let’s go back. We need to treat your wound.”

In Yingxu’s ear, the system chimed again: [Gu Qingzhu’s favorability increased by 20. Current favorability…]

Drops of dried blood marred the pale skin of her neck like blooming crimson plum blossoms.

With every breath, Yingxu could smell the metallic tang of blood, mingling with the scent of Gu Qingzhu’s pheromones.

It was… suffocating.

The corners of her lips curled up, and visibly, the Omega before her held her breath again.

As if delayed by a beat, Gu Qingzhu felt the same suffocating weight Yingxu had endured and found herself savoring it.

Yingxu pretended not to notice the turmoil in Gu Qingzhu’s heart, offering a timid yet sweet smile. “Okay.”

Like a girl falling in love for the first time earnest and bashful.

Gu Qingzhu gazed at Yingxu, unable to look away.