After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine - Chapter 37.2

The moment the words private outing left Chi Yang’s lips, Pei Jiuyao had wanted to explain—but her brain froze.

She felt like she might keel over from secondhand embarrassment, just like those girls.

“Chi Yang,” she scolded, trying to sound fierce, “you’ll give people the wrong idea! If this spreads online…”

“Oh, come on. They just happened to be our fans, right? I thought it was cute,” Chi Yang said with a smile.

She really had no clue what ZhiChiZhiYao meant!

“That’s not the point. Next time, you can’t just casually sign things like that! Especially not when it’s pictures of you with someone else!”

“Alright, alright. Why are you nagging like Qin Hao?” Chi Yang nudged her arm, lowering her voice with a sly smile. “It’s only because it’s you.”

Because it’s me.

Pei Jiuyao gave a little huff. “Fine. But not again.”

—

By evening, Chi Yang was walking arm-in-arm with Pei Jiuyao along the lakeside, slipping her hand into Pei Jiuyao’s pocket under cover of night.

The last glow of sunset filtered through the barren winter branches, scattering across the rippling water in strokes of pale pink. Reflections tangled together like ink brushstrokes in disarray.

For a while, as the scattered light faded, the sun seemed to hang like a lantern upon the water’s surface—until darkness finally swept in like a tide.

There weren’t many people out in the winter chill. A few joggers, a few couples strolling.

Standing by the shore, Pei Jiuyao looked toward the distant Ferris wheel and bent down to ask, “Want to ride it?”

“Isn’t it too late?” Chhi Yang said.

Pei Jiuyao checked her phone. “Still open. Do you want to?”

Chi Yang nodded.

Tickets bought, Pei Jiuyao pulled her toward the wheel.

The line wasn’t long.

Chi Yang stood in front while Pei Jiuyao hugged her from behind, tugging her coat snug around her—like she was cradling one of those colorful plush toys Chi Yang kept at home.

Warm and cozy.

Hidden beneath oversized caps, shrouded in the dark, they didn’t feel the need to be so cautious.

Pei Jiuyao nuzzled into her neck, the chill of her mask making Chi Yang flinch slightly.

Instead of letting go, Pei Jiuyao burrowed closer.

Chi Yang chuckled softly and let her be.

When she stepped forward, Pei Jiuyao clung and shuffled right along with her.

After a moment, Chi Yang patted her arm and whispered, “Look at that woman over there.”

Pei Jiuyao lifted her head reluctantly, squinting.

A short-haired woman lit a cigarette, exhaling smoke between crimson lips. She lowered the cigarette with elegant fingers, a bold beauty mark at the corner of her eye. A leather choker hugged her throat, paired with a fitted leather jacket.

“Wow… sister, or maybe brother—so handsome,” Chi Yang murmured.

Pei Jiuyao quickly covered her eyes. “Hmph. Don’t look.”

“What? She’s cool.” Chi Yang caught her hand with a laugh.

Pei Jiuyao pressed her palm back down firmly. “Then I’ll cut my hair short too.”

Chi Yang even managed to wave at that “sister” through the gap between Pei Jiuyao’s fingers.

That woman only curled her lips in a smile and raised her hand in response.

“You’re still looking?!” Pei Jiuyao quickly pulled Chi Yang into her arms and pressed down the brim of her hat. “Keep staring, and I’ll get jealous!”

Chi Yang’s shoulders shook as she let out a quiet laugh.

But Pei Jiuyao wasn’t jealous at all—in fact, she was delighted.

Chi Yang seemed more alive than ever today.

She didn’t know if it was because of pheromones or something else, but it was as though a long-frozen mountain had suddenly burst into bloom—scarlet roses spreading across a snowfield, breathtaking and wild.

So beautiful, it hurt.

If only she could always be like this—

breaking free of her chains, escaping her lonely island, becoming her truest self.

“Pei Jiuyao, I’m really happy today.”

Sitting inside the Ferris wheel carriage, Chi Yang pulled off her mask, her expression calm.

But when she turned to look at Pei Jiuyao, her eyes shimmered, waves of laughter dancing in her pupils.

“Why do you think so many couples like riding Ferris wheels?” Chi Yang asked, gazing out the window.

As the Ferris wheel climbed to its highest point, the earth seemed to fall away into the sky.

The glow of countless homes became a field of stars, and in the water below, a perfect moon gleamed.

Pei Jiuyao’s voice was soft:

“Maybe it’s like life. When you reach the highest point step by step, the whole world suddenly feels small, like there’s nothing left worth throwing everything away to chase after.”

“Sometimes I feel that standing alone at the top is the loneliest moment of all. Flowers, applause—they all belong to the road you’ve already walked. The future ahead feels like a blank haze.”

“But at least, in that fleeting moment, the person beside you belongs entirely to you.”

Pei Jiuyao turned to look at Chi Yang.

Chi Yang met her gaze, then whispered, “When I win an award next time, you must come.”

Chi Yang’s voice was light, but in the hollow silence of the Ferris wheel, the words landed like a heavy drumbeat.

“Pei Jiuyao, I’m really, really happy today.”

Pei Jiuyao lowered her head and pressed a kiss to Chi Yang’s cheek.

Chi Yang’s fingers trembled violently as they clutched at Pei Jiuyao’s collar.

Then, suddenly, she cupped Pei Jiuyao’s face and kissed her.

Her lips were cold, with hardly any taste—and yet, Pei Jiuyao swore she tasted strawberries.

She teased along the edges of Chi Yang’s lips, prying them open, their tongues tangling desperately.

Chi Yang was like a fish stranded on land, craning her neck as if she could drink the oxygen straight from Pei Jiuyao’s lungs.

Heat rushed through every vein, breaths colliding and burning like wildfire.

Two hearts that had spent countless nights both fleeing and being forced back together now beat in sync, palms pressed tight, bone-deep. The muffled gasps and groans filled the space like a storm.

The slick sound of mingled breaths spilled into the air.

Greedy for release, Chi Yang’s hunger crashed headlong into Pei Jiuyao’s ink-dark, sharp, and possessive gaze.

The person in her hands was trembling, pinned against the glass, her eyes wet and gleaming, ears flushed crimson.

Her lips—so sweet.

Pei Jiuyao pinched her ear and pressed down again.

Her voice was husky. “Open your mouth.”

And Chi Yang obediently flicked out her tongue.

The clouds in Pei Jiuyao’s chest shattered in an instant, leaving only this one person in her world.

And in Chi Yang’s eyes, too, there was only her.

The night was endless, a ten-thousand-step walk to escape from.

But Chi Yang only wanted to hide inside the darkness of Pei Jiuyao’s gaze.

Another fevered kiss overturned everything—Chi Yang pushed Pei Jiuyao down into the seat.

When they finally broke apart, the Ferris wheel was descending. Chi Yang’s voice shook uncontrollably.

Her eyes gleamed too brightly in the dark, lips curving upward even as a single teardrop splashed against the corner of Pei Jiuyao’s mouth.

Her hoarse voice trembled with exhaustion.

“Pei Jiuyao…”

“I’m so happy.”

________________________________________

The next morning, Chi Yang was still fast asleep.

Pei Jiuyao had scenes to shoot with Qiao Lu today. She didn’t wake her, only leaned down to kiss Chi Yang’s brow before messaging Ye Ci to come look after her, then left with Jiang Tian for the set.

The second half of the day involved a showdown between Akamatsu and her human partner.

By the time Pei Jiuyao finished makeup, Qiao Lu was already waiting at the set.

Seeing her, Qiao Lu grinned flirtatiously. “Miss Pei, I wanted to run lines with you yesterday, but you wouldn’t spare me even a single extra minute.”

“Well, I suppose that’s only natural. After all, someone has a sugar mommy to entertain.”

Pei Jiuyao shot her a glare. “Focus on the acting. Director Lin doesn’t care if your last name’s Qiao or Hua when she starts scolding.”

“Why would my surname be Hua?” Qiao Lu asked innocently.

Pei Jiuyao just curled her lip.

This scene was about Akamatsu discovering her partner’s betrayal—the partner begging shamelessly for forgiveness.

One key moment required the partner to lunge in for a kiss, only for Akamatsu to shove her away.

Director Lin’s intention was that just one brief touch before pushing away would be enough—showing Akamatsu still retained some restraint, without undermining her strength.

But even that brief moment was more than Pei Jiuyao wanted.

She repeated silently in her head a hundred times, I’m a professional actress, but one look at Qiao Lu’s smug face made her wish for a stand-in.

She glanced around the set, grateful that Chi Yang was still at the hotel asleep.

This trashy scene was the last thing Chi Yang should see.

When filming began, Pei Jiuyao recited her lines, then Qiao Lu leaned in, brushing the corner of her lips—only for Pei Jiuyao to shove her hard to the ground.

Qiao Lu glanced at Director Lin, then suddenly stood, wiping her mouth with a smile.

“Director, I don’t think the emotions came through. Can we do another take?”

Pei Jiuyao frowned, instantly suspicious of her intent.

Director Lin gave an OK sign and spoke into the walkie-talkie. “One more take.”

As Qiao Lu brushed past her, she flashed a provocative smirk.

“You really don’t have a crush on me?” Pei Jiuyao mocked back. “Your eyes are practically glued to me.”

Qiao Lu sneered.

“Camera three, second take—action.”

Suddenly, Qiao Lu lunged, clutching Pei Jiuyao’s arm in a death grip, her voice breaking with false sobs: “Wife!”

Pei Jiuyao struggled, but couldn’t break free before Qiao Lu crushed her lips against hers.

She clamped her mouth shut and pushed, but both were Alphas—no pheromone suppression between them, strength evenly matched. For a moment, she couldn’t shove her off.

It wasn’t until Director Lin yelled “Cut!” that Qiao Lu finally released her, wiping her lips with a breezy smile.

“Oops, sorry—got too into it. Let’s try again.”

On set, there was no room for an outburst. Pei Jiuyao ground her teeth. “What the hell are you playing at?”

Director Lin’s furious voice rang out. “Qiao Lu, do you want this role or not? If you don’t, get out! Have you no professionalism? The set is not your playground!”

Qiao Lu gave an awkward laugh. “Director, I really was just in the moment. Didn’t expect Jiuyao’s strength to be so weak. Another take, and I’ll do it properly.”

“Again!” Director Lin barked.

“Camera three, third take—action.”

Swallowing her anger, Pei Jiuyao went through the motions again.

In the end, it took two more entanglements before the scene passed. Director Lin stormed off, scolding Qiao Lu viciously.

As they wrapped, Qiao Lu tugged at Pei Jiuyao’s sleeve, only for her to shake her off.

“Qiao Lu, this is work. No one has time to play house with you. Because of you, everyone got off two hours late!”

Qiao Lu’s smile never faltered, as though none of it touched her. “Got it, I’ll be careful next time.”

Then, feigning innocence, she added, “But your sponsor walked out just now with a dark face. Hope she isn’t too mad?”

She even put on a pitiful look. “It was just acting. No need to be so petty.”

“Shut up!” Pei Jiuyao snapped, grinding her molars. She turned to Jiang Tian. “Did Chi Yang come just now?”

Jiang Tian, carrying clothes, nodded. “She came for a bit. Already left.”

“Qiao Lu, I’ll settle with you later!”

Pei Jiuyao threw on her jacket and rushed back to the hotel.

She knocked on Chi Yang’s door. No response.

Trying the handle, she found it hadn’t been fully shut.

She stepped inside and closed it behind her.

“Chi Yang?”

Chi Yang sat on the bed, reading her script. “You’re back?”

The pressure around her was suffocating, her gaze sharp and cold.

A complete opposite from the girl who had said “I’m so happy” just yesterday.

“You went to the set? Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Chi Yang gave a cold laugh. “I was afraid I’d die of anger.”

“Wasn’t it just acting?” Pei Jiuyao slid onto the bed beside her, nuzzling her shoulder. “It was only acting.”

“I know. Get up.” Chi Yang pushed her.

Pei Jiuyao straightened. “When did you come?”

Chi Yang set down the script, pretended to think, then said:

“Oh… probably right when you two were kissing like you couldn’t bear to part.”

Couldn’t bear to part?

That wasn’t what happened at all!

Pei Jiuyao hurried to explain: “Qiao Lu suddenly forced herself on me. I couldn’t push her off.”

“Couldn’t push her off?” Chi Yang laughed faintly. “Since when are Alphas so weak?”

Suddenly, she seized Pei Jiuyao’s wrist, twisted it behind her back, and pinned her against the bed, straddling her.

Her voice was icy. “Seems your strength really is lacking.”

Pei Jiuyao hissed. “Ow—Chi Yang.”

“Pain makes you remember.”

Pei Jiuyao squirmed, unable to break free, her temper flaring. “You don’t even like me—why are you jealous? Why pin me down like this?”

“Oh? You don’t like being restrained?” Chi Yang sneered. “Sounds like you don’t enjoy it.”

Her voice was fractured ice.

Pei Jiuyao’s heart lurched, and she was about to deny it—

When Chi Yang cut in: “Like it or not, it doesn’t matter. We signed an agreement. You’re mine.”

She swept aside Pei Jiuyao’s hair, pressing against the vulnerable gland at the nape of her neck.

“What are you doing?” Pei Jiuyao frowned at the discomfort.

Chi Yang leaned down, nipped at her ear. “Don’t forget—I’m an Alpha now too.”

“You—”

Before Pei Jiuyao could finish, something cold pressed against her gland.

Agonizing pain shot through her neck, accompanied by a violent rush of pheromones. At some point, Chi Yang had ripped off her wristband.

The pain was suffocating, dragging her under. Pei Jiuyao struggled, but her vision went black.

“Chi Yang… it hurts!” she gasped, body convulsing.

It felt like dying and reviving all over before Chi Yang finally withdrew her canines, licking over the wound with her tongue.

The world was dim, filled with nothing but frantic ringing in her ears.

At last, she heard Chi Yang’s voice, distant yet close:

“You promised to stay with me. Then you turn around and kiss someone else? This is punishment.”

Pei Jiuyao lowered her eyes, barely able to move her fingers, her voice faint and broken:

“It was Qiao Lu who forced it. I couldn’t make a scene on set…”

Her arms were suddenly released.

A warm towel pressed against her gland.

Her face was wet—tears, but she didn’t know whose.

Chi Yang’s gentle fingers brushed her cheek, then kneaded her lips.

“You just kissed me. How could you touch someone else?”

Her lips stung.

A trembling whimper leaned against her ear, sticky with fragility.

“I’m sorry. My second differentiation makes me unstable.”

“Does it hurt?” Her warm tongue licked at Pei Jiuyao’s earlobe.

The fog lifted, the darkness suddenly receding.

Shaky sobs kissed her lips, then buried into her shoulder.

“Pei Jiuyao, does it hurt…?”

“I’m sorry. Mark me too.”

“Pei Jiuyao, mark me.”

Her words were messy, forceful and fragile all at once.

With a surge of strength, Pei Jiuyao pulled Chi Yang into her arms, flipped her onto the bed.

Her head spun, but the Alpha’s instinctive dominance flared bright.

She swept Chi Yang’s hair aside, pressing her long fingers to the gland at her nape.