After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine - Chapter 27.2

Because Pei Jiuyao was not someone who deserved trust.

And yet, if Pei Jiuyao explained, Chi Yang would believe her.

What a contradiction.

“Then why did you come?” Pei Jiuyao asked.

Chi Yang didn’t answer directly. Instead, she extended her hand and said softly, “It’s bleeding.”

Pei Jiuyao took her fingers, frowning with concern. “Did Ying Ning come with you?”

“No, just Chi Qing and Ye Ci,” Chi Yang replied, lowering her head and gently scratching Pei Jiuyao’s fingers with her own.

When Chi Yang stood silently like this, she looked even more fragile.

Swallowed in oversized clothing, her expression devoid of strong emotion—there was a quiet, wilting beauty about her, like a plant slowly fading.

“Can you change my bandages? I don’t want to see them.”

Pei Jiuyao had no idea that Chi Yang had just had a breakdown and was standing on the edge of emotional collapse.

Yet, when she faced Pei Jiuyao, she didn’t want to fall apart.

Even though she’d planned on arguing the whole way here—ready for a confrontation—seeing her in person, all she wanted was to hide how she felt. Even saying, “I really am sick,” she still tried to seem like a normal person in front of her.

Don’t scare her away again, Chi Yang thought. I just got out of the hospital.

“I’ll get the medical kit. Sit here and wait for me.”

Pei Jiuyao gently squeezed her hand and guided her to the couch.

“I’ll be right back.”

She ran off to find Ye Ci and get the kit. When she returned, Chi Yang was still sitting exactly as she’d left her—motionless, hand clenched tight.

Pei Jiuyao knelt beside her and slowly pried her fingers open, then used a small pair of scissors to cut away the bandage.

A long, angry wound stretched across her palm—dark red, gruesome.

The faint sweetness of strawberries drifted out with the scent of blood.

“How did this happen?” Pei Jiuyao asked, heart twisting. She gently touched the edge of the wound, and Chi Yang let out a soft hiss.

Her voice was low and husky. “I accidentally cut myself on broken glass.”

Broken glass?

That didn’t sound like the truth.

Pei Jiuyao paused, a sense of dread creeping in. “Did you… do you have… any other conditions? Like… mood disorders?”

Is that even a “condition”?

She hesitated, unable to say the word aloud.

Chi Yang, however, caught her meaning and let out a soft laugh. “Depression?”

“Don’t worry. Even at my worst, I never had that.” Her smile was tinged with sorrow.

She murmured, “Sometimes I wonder if I’m strong or just cold-blooded. Maybe I’m just like Chi Qing—someone who won’t sacrifice themselves even for family.”

But for Pei Jiuyao, Chi Yang had carved a wound into her own palm. Was that self-sacrifice or self-preservation?

Her sadness deepened.

Pei Jiuyao understood she was referring to her mother’s passing.

She’d only wanted to show concern, not to uncover an old wound.

Seeing those sorrowful eyes, it felt like a needle had pierced Pei Jiuyao’s heart—grief flooding in uncontrollably.

“You’re not cold-blooded. You just shut yourself off. You pretend not to care, pretend you don’t need anyone, but deep down you can’t bring yourself to hurt people.” She gently applied ointment to the wound. “You can’t even bear to hurt someone like me.”

Chi Yang rotated her wrist slightly as Pei Jiuyao wrapped the bandage and asked, “What kind of person are you?”

“I…” Pei Jiuyao was momentarily speechless.

Chi Yang lowered her gaze, watching her tie the bandage into a neat knot. “I know exactly what kind of person you are.”

It sounded like a love confession.

Pei Jiuyao froze, nearly pressing down on the wound again. The strawberry-scented pheromones in the blood made her momentarily lose focus.

She quickly drew back, then asked, “So why did you come today? Visiting Sheng Xia?”

Chi Yang’s eyes finally softened, her smile sincere for the first time.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“I want to ask, because if it’s about Sheng Xia, I’ll get jealous.” Pei Jiuyao said.

“You get jealous?”

Pei Jiuyao tilted her head. “Of course.”

Chi Yang reached out and lightly tapped her neck—then quickly withdrew her hand.

Once again, she didn’t answer directly. Instead, she abruptly changed the topic.

“Do you think if you have a clear conscience, you can really not care about what others say?”

Pei Jiuyao blinked, then realized what she meant: the drama she’d just finished filming.

“You came to watch.”

So that shadow she saw wasn’t a hallucination.

Chi Yang’s fingers moved from her neck to Pei Jiuyao’s cheek, her eyes curved with a teasing smile. “Your acting wasn’t that impressive.”

Pei Jiuyao scoffed and checked the favorability bar in her mind. “Just wait, I’ll be dazzling in no time.”

“But even with that poor acting, you were so immersed you didn’t notice me standing there for ages,” Chi Yang said as she grabbed Pei Jiuyao’s face. “Was acting with Sheng Xia really that enjoyable?”

“Hey!” Pei Jiuyao rubbed her cheek in protest. “I was the one who got jealous first. Why are you stirring things up?”

Out of nowhere, Chi Yang said seriously, “I came for you.”

Her smile faded, leaving no trace of joking in her expression.

She’d been warned countless times—this was just Chi Yang in a vulnerable state. That she might say anything, do anything seductive, just because she’d been marked by an Alpha.

And yet Pei Jiuyao’s heart still trembled without reason.

________________________________________

The next day, Chi Yang joined Pei Jiuyao on set to film the final scene of The Commoner Woman.

In this scene, the heroine, Sheng Xia’s character, had grown into a powerful empress who had brought peace and prosperity to the nation.

After years of war, the land was stable, spiritual energy abundant, and people living in peace.

On the day everything was settled, the heroine abdicated, picked up a sword, and went to kill someone.

Then, she returned to the quiet town where she had first found enlightenment, to give a gift to the one who had saved her.

Pei Jiuyao’s character noticed the yin-yang eye in the heroine’s palm and asked in surprise, “You’ve become a Buddha, and yet you killed someone?”

The heroine simply smiled and returned the yin-yang eye to the plain-clothed woman before her. “To save the world is Buddha. To save one person is also Buddha. Avenge you—that is my path.”

As the heroine walked away, Pei Jiuyao stood at the end of the street, holding the eye.

Outside the city walls, the north wind howled and yellow sand blew across the ground. Within the city, peace and prosperity reigned.

Sheng Xia’s figure grew smaller and smaller until it vanished into the morning mist.

Voices rose around them. The marketplace buzzed with life. Looking down—crowds surged; looking up—smoke curled from the homes of ordinary people.

“Wrap for Miss Pei!”

Someone shouted, and Pei Jiuyao was pulled back to reality. Her eyes still glistened with tears as she smiled and greeted the actors walking past.

The final long shot was from Pei Jiuyao’s perspective, her gaze following Sheng Xia—now out of character and wrapped in a coat—as she ran over, grinning.

“Miss Pei, congrats on wrapping! Let’s take a photo!”

She pulled out a pocket camera and pointed. “Isn’t that Chi Yang over there?”

“Chi Yang-senpai!” Sheng Xia waved with a big smile.

Only then did Pei Jiuyao realize how lively Sheng Xia actually was.

For someone who played such a solemn role, she broke character so easily, to the point that Pei Jiuyao had almost mistaken her for a real-life ascetic.

Impressive.

Chi Yang walked over holding two bouquets. Sheng Xia reached for one and beamed. “Is one of these for us?”

Chi Yang turned slightly and handed her a bouquet of lilies. “You still have a few days left, but congratulations in advance.”

“You’re leaving already?” Sheng Xia said regretfully.

Chi Yang smiled. “Shan Hai is about to begin filming. Let’s take care of each other next time.”

“You’re too kind, senpai! Let’s take a picture together!” Sheng Xia said brightly.

Chi Yang handed the other bouquet to Pei Jiuyao.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a bouquet—it was more like a bundle of grass. Pei Jiuyao sniffed it and couldn’t detect any scent.

She was pushed into the center while Sheng Xia snapped several photos.

Afterwards, Sheng Xia leaned over curiously to examine Pei Jiuyao’s bouquet.

When she couldn’t figure out what it was, she teased, “Miss Pei, mine’s prettier than yours. You’ve got to work harder!”

“Of course,” Pei Jiuyao laughed. “With your acting skills, I’ve got a lot to learn.”

When Sheng Xia left, Pei Jiuyao plucked at a few leaves from her bundle and asked curiously, “What is this?”

“Strawberries,” Chi Yang replied, hands in her coat pockets.

“Strawberries?” Pei Jiuyao sniffed again in disbelief.

Chi Yang gave her a look that said, You really are clueless. “This is what they look like before they grow.”

“You gave me your pheromones?” Pei Jiuyao asked in a hushed voice.

Strawberries, but too afraid to make it obvious—so she gave her a bunch of grass instead.

Classic Chi Yang.

Chi Yang pressed her lips together, ears tinged red.

“Let’s go.” She quickly interrupted before Pei Jiuyao could say more, turning to walk away.

Pei Jiuyao smiled and followed her.

On the way back, they shared a car.

Chi Qing gave Pei Jiuyao a long, cold look, then said nothing and left with Ye Ci.

Pei Jiuyao thought Chi Yang had fallen asleep and pulled up the blanket to tuck her in.

But Chi Yang grabbed her wrist.

Pei Jiuyao panicked, thinking she was having another episode. She quickly adjusted her scent monitor and covered her nape.

Chi Yang gave a short laugh. “I want to, but I’m not that desperate.”

“I’m feeling much better,” she said, turning over, eyes half-lidded, thick lashes casting a faint shadow. “Hey…”

“What is it?”

“You said you weren’t the same ‘Pei Jiuyao’ anymore. Remember your last rut?”

That last time had been awful—Pei Jiuyao had said a lot of nonsense.

With 7023’s status still unclear, she definitely wouldn’t admit to anything.

Pei Jiuyao shook her head quickly. “I must’ve lost my mind back then.”

Chi Yang didn’t seem surprised.

“But I took it seriously. What now?”

“Ah…” Pei Jiuyao blinked innocently. “What now?”

“Let’s start over,” Chi Yang whispered. “Forget the contract, forget our identities. Let’s start over.”

“Okay,” Pei Jiuyao nodded eagerly. “Absolutely.”

“Then let’s move in together.”

“Sure, we can—wait.” Pei Jiuyao froze, eyes wide.

“Move in together?!”