After the Scummy Alpha Lost Her Memory, a Flirty Top Actress Set Her Sights on Her (GL) - Chapter 37

Yan Run was silent for a moment before finally saying,

“Just… be gentle.”

Yu Wenxi frowned.

What was she thinking?

She just wanted to see an Alpha’s body, that’s all.

Yan Run’s figure really was enviable—slender, graceful, with the faint trace of abs. She didn’t work out much these days, so they weren’t as defined as before, but she still looked incredible.

Yu Wenxi remembered: back then, Yan Run had trained every single day just to win her favor. When she finally managed to carve out those abs, she had insisted Yu Wenxi feel them to her heart’s content.

“Jiejie, do I look good?”

The Yan Run of the past had been so obedient—an Alpha lying on her Omega, asking in a coy voice.

Yu Wenxi had stroked her hair and said warmly,

“Perfect. I love it.”

Yan Run’s cheeks had flushed red.

“Then I’ll train every day so you can touch as much as you want.”

Yu Wenxi had chuckled.

“You’d better work hard, then.”

Now, one by one, Yan Run slipped off her clothes. Yu Wenxi had seen her before, yet under that steady gaze she felt an odd, uncomfortable tension—as if every look was too sharp, too exposing.

When only the last few pieces remained, the Omega stopped her.

“Good girl,” Yu Wenxi praised.

Yan Run lowered her head, the tips of her ears turning crimson.

Right now, all she wanted was for Yu Wenxi to stop this cold war with her. And if this was the only way… then so be it.

“Then… call me ‘jiejie,’” Yu Wenxi drawled lazily, her lips curling as though she was eager to hear how Yan Run would say it.

A goddess of abstinence, once she shed that restraint, was often more passionate than anyone else.

“Jiejie,” Yan Run tried tentatively.

“That sounded so insincere.”

“Jiejie.” She softened her tone, adding a trace of coquettishness. “Jiejie.”

It almost made her gag. If Qin Zishu ever found out, she’d never hear the end of it.

Thankfully, Yan Run hadn’t asked why she’d once been seen entering a hotel with another Omega.

Yu Wenxi’s arms wrapped around her from behind. Eyes closed, a single tear slid down.

Back then, even though they had been deeply in love, scandals were inevitable—paparazzi catching intimate moments, rumors swirling. Yu Wenxi, chasing the Best Actress award, had been determined to avoid any public relationship that might be dismissed as a publicity stunt.

As the gossip spread, she stayed silent.

But to Yan Run, her silence meant fear—a refusal to acknowledge her.

It was the first time they had a real fight.

Yan Run had stared at her Omega, pointing at herself.

“Do you really not love me that much? I’m not forcing you to announce it, but I at least hoped you wouldn’t deny it. Yet you did. Am I so shameful that your fans can’t know about me? Do I embarrass you that much?!”

“No, A-Yan, listen to me.” Yu Wenxi had tried to hold her. “I just don’t want the judges to think I’m nothing but a pretty face chasing clout. Publicizing our relationship would draw too much traffic and create a bad impression.”

“They should be judging your work, not your popularity,” Yan Run had snapped, her rationality already fraying into sharp sarcasm.

She saw it as proof that Yu Wenxi’s feelings were shallow.

After all, Yu Wenxi had always been so composed, so calm, that Yan Run sometimes felt like they were together only because of a family arrangement. Now she realized she didn’t understand her at all.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became—nearly swearing.

“Yu Wenxi, admit it. You don’t love me. Do you?!”

Yu Wenxi frowned.

“It’s just a small thing. I’m not planning to go public anyway. Let them take photos if they want. Is making it official really that important?”

She hadn’t meant that last sentence seriously—it was just a careless remark. If she’d comforted Yan Run properly, maybe Yan Run wouldn’t have stayed angry.

But once those words were out, the trust Yan Run had in her shattered completely.

“Not important?!” Yan Run’s voice trembled.

Yu Wenxi sighed.

“There’s no need, is there?”

“Right… I’m just your plaything, aren’t I? That’s why you can’t take me seriously.”

“Yan Run, what do you want from me? Going public would only hurt you. Don’t you realize that once it’s out, people will tear you apart?”

“I don’t care!” Yan Run roared.

“You’ve never had me in your heart!” she spat, each word heavy and cold, before vanishing from the Omega’s sight.

Back home, with no one to confide in, Yan Run’s resentment deepened. She packed away all their photos and her journals into storage. Then she deliberately flirted with other Omegas, even went to hotels, letting the paparazzi catch it all—just to make Yu Wenxi jealous, to prove her love.

She was willing to ruin her own reputation if it meant confirming how much she mattered.

Yu Wenxi knew exactly why she was doing it, and instead of softening, she became just as stubborn. Too childish.

Their relationship froze over completely.

Yan Run refused to go to her. She made a show of “favoring” other Omegas until the public called her a scumbag Alpha—convinced that Yu Wenxi would have to be jealous eventually.

But Yu Wenxi never came.

When no message arrived, Yan Run’s last hope collapsed. She cried until her voice broke. Yan Huainan, thinking she’d been dumped, tried to comfort her—only to hear her mutter bitterly,

“Yu Wenxi, I don’t ever want to see you again.”

But in the end, she still begged for reconciliation.

Prideful as she was, she wouldn’t admit fault to anyone—but for Yu Wenxi, she did.

Yet Yu Wenxi, still angry and seeing Yan Run as emotionally unstable, refused to meet her.

Desperate, Yan Run called countless times, sent countless messages.

Yu Wenxi chose to ignore them.

She found her clingy, relentless—refusing to yield—until she finally blocked her.

Heartbroken, Yan Run asked friends to relay messages.

This time it was Liu Zhaoli who, trembling, passed along her plea.

Yu Wenxi, unable to bear it, unblocked her.

Yan Run poured out apologies, no longer arguing, no longer standing her ground.

Yu Wenxi, frustrated by her immaturity, scolded her—but still told her to calm down.

Eventually, the tension eased.

But though they could talk again, Yu Wenxi no longer treated her like a girlfriend.

Are we broken up? Yan Run typed.

I don’t want to lose you.

Yu Wenxi dodged the question.

Have you eaten yet?

Yan Run’s frustration boiled over. She sobbed, desperate to know if Yu Wenxi intended to leave her, but Yu Wenxi simply wouldn’t answer.

Qin Zishu, knowing her heartache, suggested mountain climbing to distract her—leading to the accident and her memory loss.

When Yu Wenxi heard, she couldn’t work at all. Trembling, she slipped away from Liu Zhaoli, who followed her into the dressing room—only to find the proud actress crying uncontrollably.

“Why would she go hiking? She’s never liked sports—only the gym.” Yu Wenxi choked into the table.

“Don’t be like this,” Liu Zhaoli murmured, stunned to see this proud woman crying without restraint.

Yu Wenxi couldn’t shake the thought: if she had agreed to make up, Yan Run would never have gone.

When she asked about her condition, the answer hit like a blow—Yan Run had lost her memory.

Lost her memory meant… she had forgotten her.

How could she forget me? Why would she forget me?!

Regret gnawed at her. She should have announced their relationship.

But now, Yan Run remembered nothing.

So Yu Wenxi made her choice—she would announce their marriage to the world.

Only that could make up for what was lost.

________________________________________

Now, in the present, Yu Wenxi had no intention of continuing their cold war. The moment Yan Run softened, her heart ached and she relented—especially when she realized that even without her memories, Yan Run already liked her.

That was enough. Yu Wenxi kissed the Alpha’s forehead, her heart finally at peace.

Yan Run didn’t understand. Yu Wenxi clearly enjoyed intimacy, yet carried such a heavy air, as though lost in thought.

Gathering her courage, Yan Run flipped them over, pinning Yu Wenxi beneath her.

Softly, she asked,

“What are you thinking about?”

Yu Wenxi startled, her cheeks turning pink.

“Nothing,” she answered coyly.

Yan Run kissed her, then murmured,

“I don’t know why, but when you mention divorce, I panic—like losing you would hurt so much. Does that mean I like you, jiejie?”

Yu Wenxi froze, staring into her earnest eyes.

“I think I really do like you,” Yan Run said with a small smile. “Maybe you’re the only person I’ll ever like in my whole life.”

“Before and now?” Yu Wenxi asked.

“Before, yes. Now too.” Her smile was pure joy. She no longer clung to rules, even accepting the truth about Ah Yue.

“Don’t you want to like me?” Yu Wenxi asked.

Yan Run looked thoughtful.

“I don’t really know what liking someone means… What is it?”

What is liking?

Yu Wenxi thought: It’s you, liking me from the moment you first saw me. Liking me for a very, very long time… so long you’ve forgotten when it began.

“Liking means that whatever you do with her, it’s always happy,” Yu Wenxi said softly, biting gently at her neck.

Yan Run gasped.

So… biting was one of those happy things?

“Yan Run, do you like doing these things with me?” Yu Wenxi asked at her ear, smiling.

*”I… I…”

“Let’s have a child,” Yu Wenxi said, gaze tender yet utterly sincere.

Yan Run was speechless.