After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine - Chapter 37.1

Someone nearby tried to break the tension.

“Miss Chi and Miss Pei already have a lot of scenes together. Isn’t it normal for them to rehearse?”

A few others chimed in with agreement.

Song Qi, however, looked straight at Pei Jiuyao and let out a derisive laugh.

“As far as I know, Miss Pei’s next scene is with Miss Qiao Lu.”

Dealing with someone like Song Qi, Pei Jiuyao wasn’t afraid in the least.

But Chi Yang had never intended for their relationship to be made public. To hear it spoken aloud so brazenly still made Pei Jiuyao a little tense.

It was true—they had been careless lately, spending nearly all their time together.

If they really wanted to deny it, they could.

After all, Lin Leyi already knew, and the director clearly didn’t care. Whatever others said wouldn’t matter.

Pei Jiuyao stepped forward—only to feel her wrist caught.

Chi Yang’s palm was warm and soft, sliding gently down to lace their fingers together.

“I do live with Miss Pei.”

Those two words—Miss Pei—slipped from Chi Yang’s lips with a subtle ambiguity.

“Because we’re together.”

The crowd erupted in a brief commotion.

“Together? What do you mean by that?”

Song Qi voiced the very question Pei Jiuyao wanted to ask.

Together… Which kind of together?

Chi Yang’s reply was cool and sharp:

“The most literal kind.”

Her words were deliberately vague, but her fingers pressed firmly into the back of Pei Jiuyao’s hand.

“There’s no law that says two Alphas can’t be together.”

She tugged Pei Jiuyao a step forward with her.

Facing Song Qi—and everyone else—she said,

“Since people insist on questioning whether I’m really an Alpha, if this rumor keeps spreading, it will harm not only me but also the entire Shan Hai production.”

“So today, I’ll clear things up myself.” Chi Yang turned her gaze on Song Qi. “Miss Song, if I am truly an Alpha, I expect you to apologize—to me, and to the whole crew of Shan Hai. After all, spreading a baseless rumor destroys not just my reputation, but the hard work of this entire team.”

Chi Yang had neatly shifted the focus to the bigger picture, leaving Song Qi cornered.

Song Qi visibly faltered, but forced herself to sneer.

“Fine then—prove it!”

Chi Yang slipped off her wristband.

Pei Jiuyao noticed a few people fiddling with their own to adjust settings. She discreetly lowered hers as well, curious about how Alpha pheromones would differ from Omega’s.

Moments later, a sharp wave of pheromones flooded the air.

Chi Yang’s scent was strawberry sparkling wine.

Normally, the strawberry note was rich and sweet, with the alcohol barely noticeable.

But now—as an Alpha—the sweetness thinned. The scent was like a bottle of champagne bursting open, laced with an oppressive sharpness, the sting of strong liquor cutting through the air. The pressure prickled at Pei Jiuyao’s mouth and throat.

She could withstand it—after all, she was a triple-S Alpha, a higher rank than Chi Yang. The intensity was stimulating, but not unbearable.

Others weren’t so fortunate. Several quickly turned their wristbands back on, grimacing, and more than a few glared angrily at Song Qi.

Chi Yang’s pheromones carried a raw, irresistible fury—an unmistakable declaration of authority, of territory.

The crew, forced to endure the wrath of a double-S Alpha, felt drained and resentful. And all that anger landed squarely on Song Qi.

Murmurs of dissatisfaction rippled through the group:

“Were you just trying to stir up trouble?”

“Are you some plant sent by a rival studio to sabotage Shan Hai?”

“How could you spread something as ridiculous as Chi Yang not being an Alpha? She showed her pheromones on a promo variety show two years ago!”

“If this rumor spreads, it’ll not only delay filming but tank the film’s reputation.”

“Unforgivable!”

Pei Jiuyao calmly picked up Chi Yang’s wristband and fastened it back onto her.

Her palm lingered—only to be caught tightly in Chi Yang’s grip.

“Miss Song?” Chi Yang’s tone was cool, her expression unreadable. “Apologize.”

“You… you really are an Alpha?” Song Qi’s eyes darted briefly to Pei Jiuyao before snapping back.

Pei Jiuyao turned, catching the flicker of a shadow disappearing around the corner. She quickly pulled free from Chi Yang and gave chase.

But by the time she reached the corner, no one was there.

Behind her, Song Qi’s voice carried—the sound of her apology.

Once the crowd dispersed, Chi Yang found her again, leaning lightly against her arm and tilting her face up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just now, Song Qi was looking this way. Did you notice?”

Chi Yang gave a cold laugh.

“She’s a Beta. She couldn’t possibly know what I am—clearly, someone told her.”

“You know who?”

She shook her head.

“Who else would it be, if not Mo Tian’s doing?”

“That’s true. Still, if we don’t find out who passed it along, I won’t feel at ease.” Pei Jiuyao scanned the crowd. Curiously, Sheng Xia wasn’t among them.

“You suspect someone?”

Pei Jiuyao pulled her gaze back.

“Not yet.”

She didn’t want to condemn anyone on mere guesswork. Besides, Chi Yang still had many scenes with Sheng Xia—she didn’t want to plant doubt and risk affecting the filming.

Chi Yang smiled softly.

“Forget it. Director Lin gave us a day off. Want to go out?”

“A day off?”

“Too many people inhaled my pheromones earlier. She’s worried it’ll affect filming. Plus, Song Qi’s role will need to be recast.”

Her eyes lifted, cool and clear.

“So? Shall we go out?”

Pei Jiuyao arched a brow.

“So this is a date, Teacher Chi?”

Chi Yang nudged her shoulder against Pei Jiuyao’s, tilting her head playfully. Her light-brown eyes shimmered with a mischievous glint as she smiled.

“Call it a sponsor’s perk. Want it or not?”

Pei Jiuyao ruffled her hair into a mess, chuckling.

“If it’s from you, of course I do.”

________________________________________

Leaving Ye Ci and Jiang Tian behind, Chi Yang drove them into the city.

“There’s a hotpot place here that’s amazing. I used to come a lot with Ye Ci.”

After checking in with their reservation, a server led them to a private room. Inside was a low couch instead of a standard table.

Chi Yang slipped off her coat and shoes, stepping inside. Seeing Pei Jiuyao still by the door, she asked,

“Why aren’t you coming in?”

Pei Jiuyao took off her coat too, carefully hanging it beside Chi Yang’s.

“My first time eating hotpot on a couch. I thought this kind of setup was only for omakase.”

“Don’t you think it’s quiet here? And comfortable?” Chi Yang leaned back lazily. “Lots of celebrities come since it’s close to the filming site. They’re very discreet about privacy.”

Pei Jiuyao nestled against her, arms slipping around Chi Yang’s waist, her head nuzzling into her chest.

“It is comfortable.”

Knock, knock, knock—

Pei Jiuyao froze mid-nuzzle, jerking upright to hurriedly put on her mask.

She blinked in confusion as the waiter brought in the soup base and ingredients. Before leaving, he said, “If you need anything, just ring the bell.”

After the door closed, Chi Yang poured the ingredients into the pot, then glanced at Pei Jiuyao’s messy hair. Unable to resist, she poked her cheek with a laugh.

“You’re laughing at me!” Pei Jiuyao huffed, sulking into the seat opposite.

“Even with good privacy, we’re still outside,” Chi Yang said, still smiling uncontrollably. “But so what? If anyone saw, then they saw.”

“Exactly. Two Alphas can’t hang out together?” Pei Jiuyao snatched a piece of meat and tossed it into her mouth.

The broth bubbled, chili oil rising to the surface in a red layer that drifted to the edges like little hills.

As the steam thickened, Pei Jiuyao peered through the haze at Chi Yang.

Such a small interruption, yet Chi Yang’s smile shone bright and unguarded. Droplets clung to her lashes, her pale skin flushed faintly from the steam—like a streak of crimson glaze dripping from crushed chili into hot broth.

She so rarely looked alive like this. Usually, her expressions—whether in joy or anger—were cool, detached.

Even under pheromone influence, even in the throes of submission, she would cling like water yet still feign composure. Always carrying herself with a pride that refused to bend.

But now—now she was vivid, dazzling. Like the first time Pei Jiuyao had seen her in that red dress.

Pei Jiuyao propped one arm on the table, chopsticks in hand, staring at her blankly.

Then the illusion broke. Chi Yang brushed aside the steam and, with the serving chopsticks, placed meat from the clear broth into Pei Jiuyao’s bowl.

“Your stomach’s weak. Go easy on the spice.”

Pei Jiuyao gave a soft “oh,” then took the meat, her eyes crinkling into a smile as she ate.

She returned the favor, placing some in Chi Yang’s bowl.

Chi Yang rested her cheek in one hand, absently stirring the broth with her chopsticks. She looked up.

“Do you know why I like hotpot?”

“Because Qin Hao doesn’t let you eat it?” Pei Jiuyao thought aloud. “So you sneak out with me, and when she asks, you can just blame me for insisting.”

Chi Yang chuckled, then after a pause, said softly,

“Because hotpot feels lively.”

Pei Jiuyao froze for a moment, then smiled.

“Shame there aren’t more people. Next time we’ll bring Ye Ci, Jiang Tian, Sister Wen, and Ying Ning.”

Chi Yang nudged meat into her own bowl, idly poking at it. She gave a low laugh.

“I never really had anyone to eat with before. But even then, I always thought—even eating alone, hotpot feels lively.”

“The bubbling broth warms the whole body in minutes. The rooms and hallways are filled with noise. It makes you feel like… most people in the world are happy.”

A silence stretched. Then Chi Yang added quietly,

“And in those moments, I’d think—maybe I’m happy too. Even if I’m alone, falling into a noisy world feels better than sinking into a cold, empty one.”

Her eyes lowered.

“But I’ve always been cold and empty.”

When Chi Yang lifted her head, Pei Jiuyao thought her eyes looked red-rimmed, as if veiled in a faint mist.

Or perhaps, the mist had always been clouding her own eyes—only now she could no longer tell the difference.

A lump rose in Pei Jiuyao’s throat, her nose stung, and when tears slipped from the corner of her eyes, she still didn’t know why she had to share in this sorrow.

Through the haze, Chi Yang asked softly, “And what about you?”

“I think you’re fascinating. Different every single day.” Pei Jiuyao’s voice was hoarse, trembling under the weight of emotion she tried to restrain. “It’s like digging for treasure—you never know what kind of strange, wonderful things you’ll find.”

Chi Yang blinked slowly and asked, “Then… do you like me?”

“I do.”

Pei Jiuyao was never one to wrestle too much with emotions; she only cared about the truth of the moment.

There was no need to hide it. Just say it.

Especially when it came to words of affection—there was no point in tucking them away.

Perhaps Chi Yang hadn’t expected her answer to be so blunt. Her lashes trembled, then she slowly lifted her gaze again. “Don’t you want to ask me anything?”

She looked as though she was hoping Pei Jiuyao would ask the same question back.

It was clear she had thought long and hard about her own answer, already holding it on the tip of her tongue, ready to spill.

But Pei Jiuyao merely smiled and asked, “So, where do you want to go later?”

Chi Yang’s body loosened all at once, the tense grip of her fingers slowly relaxing.

“I need to buy a wristband.”

“A wristband? Aren’t you already wearing one?”

“The one I have is an Omega band. Chi Qing gave it to me, but… it’s not the brand I usually use, so I want to buy another.”

So proud.

Even if she was asked directly, she probably couldn’t say it out loud anyway.

Pei Jiuyao looked at her, lips curving faintly, then got up and helped her with her coat.

—

When they arrived at the shop, Chi Yang said, “Wait for me outside. I’ll be quick.”

Pei Jiuyao assumed trying on wristbands was a private matter and didn’t think much of it, standing outside with her hands tucked into her coat pockets.

Not long after, two young girls came skipping by, then skipped back again, sneaking glances at her.

Pei Jiuyao rubbed her eyes.

Seriously? Why’d they have to circle back?!

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The two girls finally approached, tugging at each other nervously. “Are you… Jiuyao?”

Ah. Fans.

“I am,” Pei Jiuyao replied quietly.

The girls instantly burst into squeals. “See! I told you it was her!”

“Baby, could you sign something for us?”

Pei Jiuyao’s eyes curved under the brim of her cap. “Of course.”

Then one of the girls pulled out a massive banner from her bag.

Uh… people actually carried these around?

Taking the pen, Pei Jiuyao froze when the banner was unfolded.

Across it, in huge bold letters: #ZhiChiZhiYaoSZD#, flanked on both sides by photos of her and Chi Yang making heart signs in different settings, with a huge pastel-pink heart in the center.

Great. CP fans.

Unsure whether to sign, she hesitated—only for the girls to start gushing:

“Baby, you’re so gorgeous!”

Pei Jiuyao’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Wuwuwu, baby, you’ve suffered so much lately! Don’t worry, just focus on acting—we’ll handle the antis!”

“And baby, we heard Qiao Lu is also in the Mountains and Seas crew. Be careful of her, okay? That woman’s sneaky—bet she’s behind those fake rumors!”

That peacock? She probably didn’t even have the brains for that, Pei Jiuyao thought.

She pointed to a corner of the banner. “I’ll sign here, then.”

Given how she and Chi Yang had been rivals for so many years, the fans of “ZhiChiZhiYao” never dared hope for a signature at all—this was already more than enough!

The girls’ eyes sparkled as they leaned forward. “Baby, is Chi Yang also—”

“Jiuyao?”

A heavily bundled-up woman pushed open the shop door, striding toward them. “What are you doing out here?”

“Chi—Chi—Chi—Chi—”

Pei Jiuyao stiffened, just about to fold up the banner when Chi Yang walked over.

Pointing to the giant print of herself, Pei Jiuyao said, “Isn’t this me?”

Then she laughed lightly. “So, you’re fans?”

“Then I’ll sign one too,” Chi Yang took the pen.

Pei Jiuyao’s insides lurched.

Chi Yang, do you even realize these are CP fans?!

Not only did Chi Yang not mind, she casually scrawled her name across the huge pink heart in the center—then handed the pen back to Pei Jiuyao. “Hurry, sign too. Don’t keep them waiting.”

The two girls were practically pinching each other in excitement.

Resigned, Pei Jiuyao signed beneath Chi Yang’s name.

There was no helping it. Chi Yang probably didn’t even know what “CP fans” were…

Afterwards, Chi Yang handed the banner and pen back to the girls with a smile. “This is our private outing, so please don’t post about it, okay?”

They nodded furiously, grinning ear to ear.

As they walked away, they whispered to each other in giddy voices:

“Knew it—such an AA dynamic! Even Queen Pei knew to sign second.”

“Told you, older-younger ships are always the best!”

Pei Jiuyao: “……”