After Redeeming the Female Lead, I Faked My Death and Escaped - Chapter 54
The elevator cabin was spotlessly clean.
Gu Qingzhu, rarely on leave, was in an unusually good mood, an experience she had never known before. In the past, she never had anything she particularly wanted to do or any goals to achieve. The meaning of a vacation seemed only to allow the staff some rest.
But after being with Ying Xu, she suddenly understood, without being taught, the value of this time. She began consciously planning her days, eager to seize every minute to prepare surprises for the person she loved. Even when faced with an overly packed filming schedule, she inwardly complained about the workload, wishing she had more time to spend with Ying Xu.
Her once-empty heart suddenly had a place to settle. Just the thought of Ying Xu could instantly lift Gu Qingzhu’s spirits.
Because she loved Ying Xu, and Ying Xu loved her too.
Gu Qingzhu hummed a tune under her breath, a behavior that would have been unthinkable in the past. She had always been fiercely dominant, never allowing others to see her softer side.
Ying Xu noticed the change but didn’t dwell on it, her gaze instead lingering on Luo Zhu in the corner.
The beta seemed uneasy, flinching the moment their eyes met.
Before past shoots, Luo Zhu would always brief her on the preferences and dislikes of the collaborating artists to avoid conflicts. But before working with Chi Nian, the beta had been unusually vague, almost dismissive.
At the time, Ying Xu had sensed hesitation but instinctively believed Luo Zhu wouldn’t deceive her over such trivial matters, so she didn’t press further until everything came to light.
Ying Xu didn’t want to blame Luo Zhu for the deception. After all, her loyalty had always been to Gu Qingzhu from the start. Whether it was providing information about Ying Xu or assisting Gu Qingzhu in any way, it was all perfectly reasonable.
But now, looking back on those details, Ying Xu felt absurd.
Absurd for the trust she had placed in Luo Zhu.
That trust hadn’t stemmed from Luo Zhu herself but from Gu Qingzhu behind her.
Yet why had she trusted Gu Qingzhu so much?
She had
Her fingers were suddenly squeezed. Ying Xu snapped back to reality to find Gu Qingzhu holding her hand.
The omega blinked at her, looking slightly puzzled. “Why aren’t we moving?”
Her eyes held a faint smile, and for a moment, they overlapped with that snowy night months ago except back then, Gu Qingzhu had been crying. Even while inflicting pain, she had seemed far more tormented than the victim, making it impossible to resent her.
She had almost killed her.
Ying Xu’s mind went blank. It took her a moment to find her voice. “I was distracted.”
Gu Qingzhu led her forward, casually asking, “Oh? What were you thinking about?”
A flicker of displeasure stirred in her heart. Even now that they were together, why was Ying Xu still distracted?
Just as Gu Qingzhu was about to press further, Ying Xu unexpectedly told the truth. “I was thinking about some things from the past. Nothing important.”
At that, Gu Qingzhu’s brows furrowed slightly.
Since being with Ying Xu, she had rarely revisited the past. To her, life seemed to have entered a new phase from the day they started dating. This time, she could forget the shame and humiliation of before, remembering only the little moments shared with the alpha.
She had thought Ying Xu felt the same.
After a pause, Gu Qingzhu curved her lips into a smile and deliberately changed the subject. “Really? Where’s the room key?”
Ying Xu was just about to withdraw her hand and pass it to her when Luo Zhu had already stepped forward. The card handed to the woman was the one Ying Xu had left with the beta as a spare.
She had never imagined that a simple room key could become Luo Zhu’s tool to curry favor with Gu Qingzhu. For a moment, she was stunned.
Gu Qingzhu, however, remained oblivious to her emotions, instead thinking Luo Zhu was exceptionally tactful.
Though sometimes, being too tactful wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
The foyer was wide open, beams of irregular light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting hazy shadows across the room. It was clear that many new things had been added.
A faint, bittersweet floral scent drifted in the air, Gu Qingzhu’s pheromones. The omega must have been here for some time, as the scent lingered around Ying Xu’s nose, so thick it made her back stiffen with tension.
She had once comforted Gu Qingzhu, making her hypersensitive to the omega’s pheromones. Even though their entanglement had lasted only a night, the scent had not faded with time. Instead, it had seeped into her bones, impossible to forget.
The lights flickered on, revealing the room’s lavish decorations.
A towering champagne fountain stood on the center table, while the carpet beneath was custom-made, intricately patterned. Tulip petals were scattered across the floor, their fragrance carried by the gentle breeze. Even the walls were adorned with streamers and the number “100,” with curtains pooling on the ground and balloons swaying each one bearing Ying Xu’s name, as if this were some kind of celebration.
With a soft pop, a party popper was pulled open. Tiny shreds of confetti landed in Ying Xu’s hair and on her brows, momentarily blurring her vision.
Gu Qingzhu set down the popper and glanced at Luo Zhu. The beta took the cue and discreetly exited, the door clicking shut behind her.
Left alone, Gu Qingzhu visibly relaxed, her tone shifting. “Why are you just standing there?”
Ying Xu hesitated before finally finding her voice. “What’s all this for?”
“A celebration, of course,” Gu Qingzhu replied, amused. “Did it scare you?”
As soon as she asked, Gu Qingzhu remembered Ying Xu’s background, orphaned at a young age, raised in a welfare institution. In such an environment, no one would have ever prepared surprises for her.
Suppressing the ache in her chest, Gu Qingzhu reached out to brush away a green streamer stuck to Ying Xu’s cheek. But before her fingers could make contact, Ying Xu caught her wrist.
“I’m not scared, just surprised,” Ying Xu said, flashing a familiar smile, her eyes flickering with astonishment and emotion. “This is the first time.”
Skin against skin, their gazes locked. Gu Qingzhu felt almost submerged in Ying Xu’s expression. “There will be more in the future.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Ying Xu noticed the decorations still emblazoned with “100.”
The anniversary wasn’t due yet. Or perhaps Gu Qingzhu had found out about No, impossible. If she knew everything, she wouldn’t be acting like this.
Ying Xu’s thoughts raced, her paranoia growing like weeds. It felt as though, along with the party poppers, the fear buried deep within her had also exploded.
Only now did she realize she was afraid of Gu Qingzhu. All this time, she had deceived herself into believing she “didn’t care,” as if indifference could erase everything the woman had done, rendering it meaningless, incapable of stirring even the slightest ripple in her heart.
But the truth was, Ying Xu cared.
She cared far more than she had ever imagined.
“Today is Xiao Zhu’s hundred-day celebration.”
It wasn’t until she heard this overly childish name that Ying Xu snapped out of her thoughts. Not far away, Gu Qingzhu merely crooked her finger, and a white bird that had been hiding somewhere flew into her palm. After months of meticulous care, it was much plumper than in the videos and clung to the woman with even greater docility.
“I asked Sheng about its birth date. Today happens to be its hundredth day.”
“You’re its mother too,” Gu Qingzhu said, her eyes curving into crescents. “Isn’t it perfectly normal to celebrate for it?”
A commemoration day, not a birthday, wasn’t something worth celebrating in itself. Gu Qingzhu wasn’t sure why she was making such a fuss over a bird, but this was the first gift Ying Xu had formally given her. Gu Qingzhu wanted to cherish it, just as she cherished Ying Xu.
More importantly, it had indeed been a long time since she’d seen Ying Xu. Whether it was her imagination or not, ever since she joined the film crew, the alpha’s connection with her had grown less intimate.
Gu Qingzhu searched online and came across the term “relationship fatigue.” Although she didn’t believe Ying Xu would lose interest in her so quickly, it wasn’t good to always let the other person take the initiative.
She needed to be more proactive.
The internet said that a harmonious parent-child relationship was beneficial for the family… Though she and Ying Xu wouldn’t have children, wasn’t a pet a kind of alternative child?
Thinking this, Gu Qingzhu pushed the bird in her hand toward Ying Xu’s palm.
Apart from its first day at the Gu household, Ying Xu had never observed the bird this closely. Now, looking again, she noticed its eyes were unusually deep, as if hiding something. Suddenly, it reminded her of the cat that had once interacted with Gu Qingzhu.
Before she could examine it further, the bird seemed to sense something and wriggled back into Gu Qingzhu’s hand, turning its rear toward Ying Xu.
It never hid its closeness to Gu Qingzhu, as if it could read moods, going out of its way to please her, with remarkably successful results. It was so beloved that Gu Qingzhu even set aside her reservations to proactively ask Sheng Qiuyu about it.
Hearing that name again, Ying Xu felt an inexplicable longing. Since the omega had gone abroad, the two of them had had no further contact.
“Is that so?” Ying Xu mimicked Gu Qingzhu’s actions, stroking Xiao Zhu. “It really is worth celebrating.”
Seeing her play along, Gu Qingzhu felt both pleased and slightly worried. “Do you think… this is boring?”
“Not at all,” Ying Xu replied, lowering her eyes with an impassive expression. “Being with Qingzhu is always interesting, no matter what.”
This answer clearly hit the mark.
Gu Qingzhu no longer concealed her delight. After putting Xiao Zhu back in its cage, she went to the adjoining room to pick out clothes, claiming she had prepared a surprise for Ying Xu and asking her to wait patiently.
As she said this, her ears turned slightly red, as if she had thought of something.
Ying Xu didn’t object or ask any questions. She simply watched her walk into the room with a gentle gaze, then stepped outside the next moment.
On the other side of the wall, Luo Zhu leaned against it, hesitating. She felt there were things she needed to explain to Ying Xu in person. After sending a message, she had been waiting here ever since.
She wasn’t sure if Ying Xu had seen it or if she would even come to meet her.
Just as she was lost in thought, a familiar voice sounded. “What’s wrong?”
Ying Xu stood not far away, her expression calm, revealing neither joy nor anger.
Luo Zhu parted her lips.
Ying Xu had an exceptionally good temper at least in all these days, she had never seen the alpha get into any unpleasant situations with others. Apart from Gu Qingzhu, it seemed she had no ‘bottom line’ at all.
Luo Zhu had originally thought of telling Ying Xu the truth. The alpha was tolerant enough that as long as the reasons were valid, she wouldn’t press the matter.
But when faced with those calm eyes, Luo Zhu felt a pang of guilt and couldn’t help but entertain a sliver of hope: what if Ying Xu hadn’t suspected her at all?
Subconsciously, she began to lie, trying to absolve herself: “About Xia Qing’s situation, I only just found out. Her fans’ comments will be handled by PR you don’t need to respond publicly.”
Ying Xu nodded. “I understand.”
“You also don’t need to feel too much pressure,” Luo Zhu added, relieved that Ying Xu didn’t press further as she had imagined. Her voice was dry as she continued, “Her leaving the industry was because of things she did. It has nothing to do with anyone else.”
Ying Xu curved her eyes into a smile. “I know. I didn’t do anything wrong, so why would I feel pressured?”
“Of course.”
Seeing her smile, Luo Zhu hurriedly nodded and was about to pledge her loyalty when she heard Ying Xu softly ask, “So, why didn’t you tell me?”
Luo Zhu didn’t react at first. “What?”
The next second, her breath hitched. “This matter.”
“You didn’t know, right?”
The words Luo Zhu wanted to say were spoken first. She instinctively wanted to nod but didn’t dare move.
Gu Qingzhu was in the room. If she heard, just imagining the scene made Luo Zhu’s face turn pale. After a long pause, she finally dared to whisper an explanation: “President Gu, she.”
The moment “President Gu” slipped out, no further explanation was needed. Ying Xu already understood.
“You didn’t lie to me on purpose,” Ying Xu said gently. “It’s just that some of Qingzhu’s arrangements are things you couldn’t refuse, right?”
Her tone was so soft that Luo Zhu nodded repeatedly, even feeling a surge of grievance in that moment.
If possible, she would have preferred to serve only Ying Xu. But Ying Xu was now deeply tied to Gu Qingzhu, and everything revolved around the omega.
She had no choice she was forced into it.
“It’s alright.” Ying Xu’s lips curled. She had anticipated this scenario and remained perfectly composed. “Just don’t let it happen again.”
Her attitude was so gentle, without the slightest hint of pressure, that Luo Zhu’s guilt finally solidified into something tangible. “Ying Xu, I, it really was just this once.”
In the past, she had never deceived Ying Xu about anything.
“I know,” Ying Xu said. “You were just caught in a difficult position. You didn’t want to admit it because you were afraid I’d be upset.”
The shame of being exposed made Luo Zhu’s mind go blank, and she felt even more grateful for Ying Xu’s understanding. For the first time, she deeply felt just how good Ying Xu was. Being with the alpha, it seemed even misspoken words or mistakes didn’t matter, because the other would always find a way to reassure you.
None of it was your fault.
Ying Xu parted her lips to say something more, but Gu Qingzhu’s voice faintly called from inside the room, seemingly summoning Ying Xu.
Luo Zhu snapped back to reality. “Then I’ll”
But before she could finish, Ying Xu had already turned away with an apologetic look and returned to the room. The door shut firmly in front of Luo Zhu, leaving her momentarily stunned. A fleeting sense of unease struck her after all, even idle chatter from staff, as long as it was directed at Ying Xu, she would listen patiently to the end.
Especially when it was something Luo Zhu had said.
She felt uneasy for a moment, a sense of restlessness creeping in. Then she recalled Xu Ying’s smile and thought, perhaps Xu Ying was just afraid of Gu Qingzhu’s anger after all, compared to her, she herself wasn’t that important, After comforting herself with various reasons, Luo Zhu finally pressed the elevator button.
Yet, in Luo Zhu’s heart, there remained a more plausible suspicion, one she forcibly suppressed.
That was, Xu Ying cared about this matter.
Far more than she cared about Luo Zhu herself.
The lights inside were dimmer than when she had left.
Gu Qingzhu wasn’t in the living room, and the bedroom door remained tightly shut. When Xu Ying called out to ask, the omega only replied, “I’m still choosing… Or do you want to help me pick?”
This time, Gu Qingzhu was met with silence again, but for some reason, it inexplicably lightened her mood. She even chuckled softly and said, “So shy.”
Xu Ying didn’t hear those words. Her gaze lowered, her mind drifting, suddenly recalling something else.
The system had only ever mentioned that the reward for completing the mission was leaving this world, but what about the punishment?
In fact, the idea of “leaving the world” being framed as a reward was inherently bizarre.
If she succeeded in winning over Gu Qingzhu, at the very least, she’d live comfortably in this world.
With a standard of living far surpassing the average person, even if she grew utterly sick of “Gu Qingzhu,” the logical choice would be to leave her and live independently not to leave the world entirely.
Unless the punishment for failure was also tied to this world.
But whether when the mission was first assigned or during these past months of interaction, the system had never mentioned this, as if deliberately hiding it.
Yet, just as Xu Ying had never held expectations for Luo Zhu, she had never trusted the system either. After the initial shock, she instead felt a sense of “this was inevitable.”
The worst possible outcome seemed to boil down to nothing more than death. Xu Ying had to admit that Gu Qingzhu’s actions had influenced her deeply so much so that even the significance of life and death had become trivial.
Xu Ying wasn’t sure if this was good or bad. Or perhaps it had never mattered in the first place.
As her thoughts wandered, a soft sound came from behind. Xu Ying looked up to see Gu Qingzhu in a long dress, her face lightly made up. Noticing Xu Ying’s gaze, Gu Qingzhu’s lips curved into a smile as she twirled halfway in front of the mirror.
“It looks beautiful.” This time, without waiting for Gu Qingzhu to ask, Xu Ying had already answered.
“How did you know I was going to ask that?” Gu Qingzhu mused before adding, “I was going to ask something else.”
Xu Ying watched as Gu Qingzhu circled her arms around her neck from behind the sofa, the omega’s hair brushing against her skin. Then Gu Qingzhu kissed her lips.
The kiss held no trace of desire just the press of skin against skin. Yet despite its innocence, it still made the omega’s cheeks burn.
The familiar scent slowly enveloped Xu Ying, but she felt a chill run down her spine. Before Gu Qingzhu could deepen the kiss, she turned her face away.
Gu Qingzhu exhaled softly, releasing her. Though it had only just begun, she was already breathless. After a moment, she whispered, “Aren’t you going to continue?”
Xu Ying thought numbly, Why should I? It wasn’t just omegas who were affected by an alpha’s pheromones, the reverse was just as true.
Perhaps everything had started with that accidental mark she’d left on Gu Qingzhu. If not for that, maybe she could have viewed Gu Qingzhu more objectively, rather than feeling as she did now.
Not hating, yet not loving. Disgusted up close, yet longing from afar.
“I just think it’s too fast.” Disgusted with herself, Ying Xu muttered under her breath, “You’re an omega, you should value yourself more.”
Gu Qingzhu’s eyes curved into a smile, thinking Ying Xu was being overly “old-fashioned,” but that was just like her.
Perhaps she had indeed been too hasty. Gu Qingzhu nodded: “Then, we’ll continue later.”
Her voice softened on the last few words. Gu Qingzhu herself wasn’t entirely sure how to handle such topics. Though she and Ying Xu had been intimate before, it had all been before they were officially together. Now that the alpha had expressed reluctance, pressing the issue felt almost like harassment.
In the quiet, only the occasional sound of wind tapping against the glass broke the silence. Ying Xu watched as the woman picked up a glass from the champagne tower and asked softly, “Do you drink?”
Since arriving in this world, Ying Xu had never touched alcohol. The question hit a blind spot. Instinctively, she wondered had she drunk before? Before coming to this world? But the moment her thoughts brushed against the topic, a splitting headache struck her, as if some unyielding rule forbade her from recalling the “past.”
In the end, she only replied, “A little.”
“How little is ‘a little’?” Gu Qingzhu chuckled. “You don’t have to force yourself if you can’t.”
The liquid in the glass was clear, shimmering like satin under the light. At such close range, the scent of alcohol made Ying Xu recoil slightly. When it touched her tongue, it left a numb, bitter taste, like swallowing a piece of stale bread.
She turned her face away, but Gu Qingzhu had already picked up another glass, sipping slowly as she asked about Ying Xu’s recent plans or chatted idly about her own happenings on set.
Occasionally, Gu Qingzhu would send texts detailing her daily life, but those felt more like deliberate attempts at forced intimacy. Talking face-to-face now, however, carried a genuine sense of closeness.
Ying Xu felt uneasy, responding sluggishly, hoping to end these topics soon.
Fortunately, Gu Qingzhu hadn’t made extensive plans. Her intentions had been simple from the start if Ying Xu was willing to mark her, tonight would be a perfect evening, and tomorrow they’d register their marriage.
If not, a casual chat would suffice.
After all, she had to return to the set for filming tomorrow.
At the thought, a trace of displeasure finally flickered across Gu Qingzhu’s face.
When she stood up, Ying Xu thought it was finally over, but Gu Qingzhu picked something up from the coffee table. Following her gaze, Ying Xu noticed a small box, she had no idea what was inside or how long it had been there.
“Oh right, there’s one more gift I haven’t given you,” Gu Qingzhu said offhandedly. “You can wear it on stage at tomorrow’s premiere.”
Since stepping into this room, Ying Xu had been hyper-aware of Gu Qingzhu, paying no attention to the decor. Now, the sight of the box sent a chill down her spine.
What was inside? A ring?
This time, she didn’t need to recall the past to feel the splitting headache.
She wanted to leave, but Gu Qingzhu had already opened the box.
In an instant, a wave of dread surged through Ying Xu. She stood abruptly, meeting Gu Qingzhu’s surprised gaze as she saw what the woman’s slender fingers held,
A necklace, identical in design to the one around Gu Qingzhu’s neck.
Seeing Xu Ying’s bewildered expression, Gu Qingzhu suddenly realized something and laughed, “Did you think I was going to give you a ring and propose to you here?”
Xu Ying held her breath. “No.”
She just hadn’t expected Gu Qingzhu to give her a necklace.
“I wouldn’t propose to you here.”
Gu Qingzhu stood beside Ying Xu, their reflections mirrored in the full-length mirror. A cold necklace encircled her neck, delicate and thin, with numerous slender strands dangling beneath it, like the fringe of a silk scarf.
Ying Xu’s fingers trembled involuntarily as she tried to divert her thoughts. She recalled that the necklace also bore a longevity lock, and even without looking, she guessed it likely bore her name.
Just like Xiao Zhu’s. Did Gu Qingzhu make one for all her other pets too?
The eerie feeling dissipated slightly at this random thought. As Gu Qingzhu adjusted the necklace and gently smoothed her hair, Ying Xu finally asked, “Why?”
Gu Qingzhu met her gaze, the corners of her eyes lifting, her voice dripping with honeyed affection. “I want to give you the best.”
Just as Ying Xu had done for her.
Just a wall away.
Luo Zhu stared distractedly at her phone screen, where an apology message she had drafted was displayed. Just as she was about to add a few more lines and send it to Ying Xu, a pleasant female voice sounded beside her. “The door’s open. Aren’t you going in?”
She looked up instinctively and realized the elevator door she had pressed earlier had opened. About to thank the speaker, she froze when she saw who it was.
The alpha was tall and slender, her skin pale and sickly, as if she had spent years without sunlight.
Noticing Luo Zhu’s wandering gaze, the woman smiled good-naturedly. “What’s wrong?”
Only then did Luo Zhu realize how much the woman resembled Ying Xu, especially the shape of her eyes and the small mole beneath them, nearly identical in placement.
The way she smiled at her made Luo Zhu doubt for a moment whether she was actually speaking to Ying Xu herself.
Too stunned to react immediately, she stammered an apology. “I’m sorry.”
The alpha, however, didn’t seem bothered by her intrusive stare and stepped into the elevator after Luo Zhu.
Under the bright lights, Luo Zhu stole glances at the woman’s reflection in the mirror. At this close distance, she caught a faint whiff of a metallic perfume.
Betas couldn’t perceive pheromones, so if they had an A/O partner, they often relied on similar perfumes as substitutes to mimic the scent.
But alphas were highly sensitive to smells, which was why few of them used such fragrances.
Did she have a Beta lover?
Lost in thought, Luo Zhu heard the woman speak. “My friend is also a Beta. She’s always been curious about what my pheromones smell like.”
Luo Zhu realized this was the woman’s way of explaining. Though puzzled, she replied, “Then you must be very close.”
“Close?” The alpha’s eyes curved. “But she doesn’t seem to think so. It’s been a long time since we last spoke.”
“Was she… unsatisfied with your pheromones?” Luo Zhu had heard of cases where Betas broke up with their partners because their pheromones didn’t meet expectations, and she assumed this was one such instance.
Her phone screen lit up unnoticed, displaying a blurry image of Gu Qingzhu fastening a necklace around Ying Xu’s neck, their expressions indistinct in the dim light.
“Perhaps.” Cheng Yingxue glanced at it, then put away her device, her tone calm, as if discussing something entirely unrelated to herself. “She’s very picky. I don’t even know if she’d like it, so I took my time choosing.”
It’s just a shame that Cheng Yingxue would never get to know the answer.
Before that could happen, Beta died.
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
ZAPICURI
No manches, que capítulo tan intenso!! Bueno, para mí, todos los capítulos son muy intensos JSJS, pero no sé, tengo un mal presentimiento, de qué o cómo, realmente no lo sé… Mi bebé Ying Xu, como quisiera sacarte de ahí y abrazarte 🤧🫂💗. Que buena novela, muchas gracias, por la traducción 💗