After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine - Chapter 57

Early the next morning, when Pei Jiuyao arrived at the company, she could already hear people quarreling from a distance.

Xu You was leaning against the doorway watching the scene unfold. As Pei Jiuyao passed by, Xu You pulled her aside and shoved a handful of sunflower seeds into her palm.

“Come on, listen in with me.”

Pei Jiuyao leaned against the wall beside her.

From the voices inside, one of them sounded very much like Sheng Xia.

“Is that Sheng Xia?” Pei Jiuyao asked.

Xu You nodded. “And Su Yin.”

“How did those two end up fighting?” Pei Jiuyao frowned slightly. “Sheng Xia’s still the senior here.”

Xu You cracked another seed, lips pressed together as she shook her head. “She’s not fighting with Su Yin—she’s fighting with her own agent.”

Pei Jiuyao narrowed her eyes and edged closer to the door. Inside, Sheng Xia’s furious voice rang out:

“Newcomer this, newcomer that—what, I don’t act anymore? All day long it’s variety shows and ‘promoting the newbie’! I don’t care if she’s my boss’s darling—if netizens want a CP, then let the netizens hype it themselves!”

“She’s an Omega, I’m an Omega—you know how an OO pairing kills an actress’s career?”

“Yeah, yeah, all my resources are thanks to you. Since you’re so resourceful, why don’t you take the damn job yourself? Forget a CP—you two could act out master and servant for all I care!”

…

Truth was, even though AA and OO romances had become more common, it was undeniable that they narrowed an actor’s career path. Once an image was locked into the public’s perception, it was hard to create chemistry with other co-stars.

And the market still favored AO pairings; the bulk of resources flowed in that direction. Sheng Xia’s concern wasn’t baseless.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was—Pei Jiuyao had known Sheng Xia for years, and this was the first time she’d ever heard her swear. It was… oddly refreshing.

She couldn’t help but listen a little longer.

Which turned out to be a mistake, because the next moment Sheng Xia stormed out, and there, right at the doorway, stood two gossip-eating culprits caught red-handed.

Like scumbags caught sneaking around, both of them shrank back in unison, exchanging guilty looks.

Xu You gave a little bow, arched her brows, and greeted sweetly: “Hi~”

“Enjoying the show, seniors?” Sheng Xia folded her arms across her chest, glaring coldly at them.

Pei Jiuyao, playing innocent, offered her the sunflower seeds. “Want some?”

Sheng Xia gave a short snort but took them. “Only you could look so guiltless.”

“The company wants you to fake a CP with Su Yin?” Pei Jiuyao asked curiously. “I remember Su Yin being pretty well-behaved.”

“In your eyes, all Omegas are ‘well-behaved.’ Even if one shot you in the head, you’d probably still call her obedient.” Sheng Xia said dryly, but she let them enjoy their gossip. “It’s Producer Chen’s new variety show, Setting Off at Dawn.

The company wants me to fake a CP with Su Yin on that show—and behind my back, they even turned down a great drama offer for me.”

“If they’d discussed it with me, fine. But sneaking around with these cheap tricks? Disgusting! Trash not even fit to be swine or dog—do they really think a handful of resources makes them some phoenix in the boss’s eyes?” Sheng Xia’s voice suddenly rose. “With all that energy spent currying favor, they might as well just climb into bed directly!”

She shot the two of them a sharp look. Both Pei Jiuyao and Xu You shrank again, wishing they could root themselves into the floor like little saplings.

“Xiao Pei!”

Xiao Pei nearly stood at attention, almost snapping into a salute.

“When the day comes they make you babysit Su Yin, then you’ll know what suffering is!” Sheng Xia snapped. “Maybe then you’ll finally kick that habit of thinking all Omegas are sweet little angels.”

Once she left, Xu You let out a long breath. “Tell me—are Omegas born knowing how to curse people out? Sheng Xia usually looks so kind and gentle, but when she goes off, even I’m stunned.”

Pei Jiuyao thought it over seriously for five seconds and twenty-one milliseconds. “Maybe… it depends on the person?”

“But hey—what do you think Sheng Xia’s scent is?” Xu You suddenly turned.

Pei Jiuyao froze. “How would I know?”

Asking about an Omega’s pheromone scent in public—wasn’t that rude?

“I think it’s sandalwood, with a touch of mint and frankincense, and maybe a bit of lemon.”

Pei Jiuyao looked at her, aghast. “That detailed?”

“Because whenever she’s yelling, the air is full of that scent. It’s actually really nice.” Xu You’s face turned earnest. “You don’t think so?”

Pei Jiuyao pressed her lips together, then abandoned this lovesick Alpha of questionable tendencies and headed straight for the lounge.

________________________________________

In the lounge.

Wen Li glanced up when Pei Jiuyao returned, snapping her phone shut. “You saw her yesterday, didn’t you?”

Pei Jiuyao feigned ignorance. “Who?”

“You know exactly who I mean—do I really have to say her name out loud?”

Pei Jiuyao shrugged and sat down beside her. “I saw her.”

“Knew it.” Wen Li’s eyes lit up, leaning in. “And then?”

“And then what?”

“What happened? Did you fight? Or get back together?” Wen Li slouched lazily against the table, cheek propped on her hand, squinting at her with a grin.

Pei Jiuyao finally understood why Sheng Xia had been so furious. Eating gossip up close was truly obnoxious—especially when the gossip was about yourself.

“Nothing happened. Nothing will happen.” She scooted a little farther away, choosing her words carefully. “She asked if I’d been busy lately. I said yes, I was busy filming. That was it.”

“You’re not filming anything right now. Since when did you learn to lie, Xiao Pei?”

Pei Jiuyao had been living in this world under the label of “scumbag,” but in just a year and a half, it was as if everyone around her had suffered collective amnesia. Their perception of her had completely changed.

In Wen Li’s eyes now, Pei Jiuyao was nothing more than a harmless, gullible sweetheart who couldn’t lie, couldn’t drink, and had been swindled out of both money and love before being kicked to the curb—a pitiful fool.

Sometimes even she wondered if the “original” Pei Jiuyao had ever truly existed.

“I’ve always been good at lying,” Pei Jiuyao protested.

“You?” Wen Li gave her a look of pure disbelief. “If you were me, you’d have made the most of it—finally meeting her again, and you didn’t stir up anything?”

The way she said it, it almost sounded like she wanted Pei Jiuyao to get pregnant just to hold it over her benefactor’s head.

“I don’t plan to stir anything up. And I’m not planning to get back with her either, so stop worrying, Wen-jie.”

Wen Li raised a brow. “Not even if Chi Yang came back looking for you?”

Pei Jiuyao lowered her gaze, offering no answer. Instead, she changed the subject: “Don’t we have a commercial shoot coming up? Let’s go.”

________________________________________

The ad was for chocolate.

Originally it had been for a regular chocolate bar, but at the last minute, the brand swapped it for a new limited-edition flavor—strawberry lava chocolate.

This new release had been meant as a one-day Valentine’s special. But its reviews had been phenomenal, and the hashtag #XXIsDelicious had even hit the trending charts, Valentine’s aside.

So the brand decided to mass-produce it as their seasonal flagship product.

At the set, Pei Jiuyao tried a piece. The moment the molten strawberry filling burst across her tongue, she thought of Chi Yang’s scent.

A whole year had passed, and she still remembered it vividly.

She told herself it was just good memory—that was all. A flimsy excuse, but one that made the ache easier to bear. Because she was aching.

The moment she bit down, she realized with a start—her body was reacting.

She was actually edging toward susceptibility.

She’d eaten strawberries countless times this past year, yet nothing like this had ever happened.

Was she really nearing her susceptibility period?

Maybe she should just claim a strawberry allergy and back out of the shoot.

She was just about to tell Wen Li when, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar figure in the crowd.

The staff all nodded respectfully as the woman passed, and she answered with polite, professional smiles before settling on a sofa not far from the set—perfectly positioned to see everything.

It was Chi Yang.

Dressed in a retro brown striped suit, jacket unbuttoned, crisp white shirt underneath. The collar was loose, showing the elegant line of her throat, a silver chain draping down into the pale valley of her chest.

No brand label visible.

Her skin was as delicate as ever, the chain rubbing her collarbone raw, leaving faint red marks.

Pei Jiuyao frowned, suppressing the sudden urge to walk over and fasten the buttons of her blouse.

A dignified CEO, dressed like that—honestly, it was too much.

Didn’t Minghe have any image management at all?

Pei Jiuyao tugged Wen Li over. “Why is she here?”

Wen Li blinked, turned to look, and instantly spotted Chi Yang. She turned back, saying, “I heard she helped design this chocolate.”

“You knew she was coming?” Pei Jiuyao asked, her tone laced with displeasure.

All she could picture was her agent secretly cutting a deal with a sly fox, then packaging her up and selling her off wholesale.

Wen Li chuckled. “Of course not. Who would’ve thought Minghe’s CEO would personally supervise a commercial shoot?”

“What do you want from me?” she asked.

Pei Jiuyao pressed her lips into a thin line, snapping, “Nothing.”

If she suddenly claimed to be allergic to strawberries and refused the shoot, it would only make her seem too self-conscious.

It was just Chi Yang’s pheromone scent, after all—not like she hadn’t tasted it before.

She changed into costume and stepped in front of the white backdrop. Her co-actor was already in place and greeted her warmly.

She smiled back, took the chocolate, and nodded.

Since it was a Valentine’s Day special, the chocolate carried a romantic theme, and the ad leaned into that concept. In one scene, the two actors had to gaze into each other’s eyes while biting into the same piece of chocolate.

Everything else went smoothly, but at the moment she bit down, tasting the molten center beneath the shell, the face before her blurred into Chi Yang’s.

How could eating chocolate suddenly feel so… indecent? Her heart gave a strange jolt.

Pei Jiuyao instinctively stepped back.

“Cut!” the director barked. “What happened, Miss Pei?”

Her partner looked flustered, rubbing at her lips. “Did I bump into Miss Pei?”

“It’s fine.” Pei Jiuyao exhaled, steadying herself. “Let’s try again.”

“Miss Pei, you’re so pure,” the director teased. “Your face is red. Never been in love, huh?”

Chi Yang was sitting not far away, and every word was clearly audible.

Pei Jiuyao’s mind flashed to the lawyer’s letter from yesterday: Regarding fabricated rumors about “romance,” our client reserves the right to pursue legal action against the slanderer.

Forcing a sheepish, innocent smile, she nodded. “Sorry, let’s do another take.”

The director chuckled. “Guess today is Miss Pei’s first on-screen kiss.”

Her co-actor quickly smoothed things over. “Well, it counts as on-screen—we’ve got all these cameras rolling, after all.”

Pei Jiuyao laughed lightly and rubbed her nose.

When she lifted her gaze, she caught Chi Yang sitting serenely on the sofa, her expression calm and unreadable as she watched the shoot.

Pei Jiuyao turned away, bit into the chocolate again, and when the director finally called “Cut, that’s a wrap,” she pulled out a tissue to wipe her lips.

Chocolate designed personally by Chi Yang, infused with her pheromone scent.

And now she’d shown up in person to oversee the shoot.

What was she after? To test whether Pei Jiuyao still remembered her? Or… just to watch her make a fool of herself?

She wouldn’t let Chi Yang toy with her in the palm of her hand again.

After greeting the crew, she returned to the lounge. The sticky sweetness still clung to her lips, no matter how hard she wiped.

It was irritating.

She pushed past the crowd toward the bathroom, rinsing her mouth for a long time before looking up.

Click—

Someone slipped inside and locked the door.

Chi Yang walked to the sink like nothing was amiss, calmly washing her hands.

Pei Jiuyao dabbed her face with a tissue, then heard her say: “So, Miss Pei’s never been in love? Still a first kiss?”

Pei Jiuyao’s hand stilled. She scrubbed at her face a little too hard and tossed the tissue away. “Hardly a first kiss. I’m an actress, after all.”

Chi Yang’s eyes dimmed. She let the water run, her hands motionless under the stream.

After a long silence, she asked, “Did you like the chocolate?”

“No. Too sweet.”

“I thought you liked strawberries.”

“I actually prefer peaches,” Pei Jiuyao replied, turning toward her.

Chi Yang’s lashes trembled. She searched her memory quickly—Bai Zhi’s pheromone, wasn’t it peach?

Her fingers twitched, trembling slightly. In her panic, she braced both arms on the sink, forgetting to shut off the tap.

Pei Jiuyao frowned, puzzled. She’d just thrown out “peach” at random—why the dramatic reaction?

Did Chi Yang hate peaches?

Reaching over, Pei Jiuyao shut off the faucet with a firm tap and turned to leave—only for Chi Yang to seize her wrist again.

Her fingers brushed lightly over the back of Pei Jiuyao’s hand. “Why aren’t you wearing a band-aid?” she asked softly.

“Not used to it. Threw it away,” Pei Jiuyao said, tugging her hand free.

Chi Yang stayed silent.

“Then I’ll be going,” Pei Jiuyao added.

Since she made no move to stop her, Pei Jiuyao opened the lock and pulled the door—

But suddenly, Chi Yang caught her hand again, her voice small, slightly trembling. “Pei Jiuyao.”

She turned back. Standing taller, she could clearly see Chi Yang’s lashes flutter like a trapped butterfly.

“Yaoyao,” Chi Yang’s voice softened, “the villa I bought for you—I renovated it. Do you… want to come see it?”

“The villa you bought for me?” Pei Jiuyao tilted her head, needing a few seconds to realize she meant that villa—the one she’d been imprisoned in.

Of all topics, Chi Yang had to bring up that place?

Pei Jiuyao let out a short laugh, then suddenly reversed her grip, clasping Chi Yang’s hand instead.

Chi Yang’s eyes brightened with hope. She thought Pei Jiuyao was about to agree.

But Pei Jiuyao’s gaze pierced hers, catching the flicker of light in those irises. She asked quietly:

“Even if I haven’t evolved into your obedient little dog—would that still be acceptable? Since when did Miss Chi’s tolerance level get so high?”

The light in Chi Yang’s eyes died instantly.

Back in the lounge, Pei Jiuyao couldn’t shake the image of her expression: frozen, panicked, eyes darting, lips twitching as if to smile but failing. If she had lingered just one second longer, Chi Yang might have cried.

Her thoughts were a mess. She flipped through her phone without seeing a thing before tossing it face down on the table.

Enough, Pei Jiuyao.

What then—go crawling back, only to be locked away again, a pet bird in a gilded cage?

The moment she disobeyed, she’d touch Chi Yang’s reverse scale.

This wasn’t love. It was—

She remembered Sheng Xia’s words and thought bitterly: nothing but a master–servant relationship.

Never again.

Wen Li knocked and came in, breaking her tangled thoughts. Her face was stormy. “The company wants you on Producer Chen’s travel variety show. You’ll be paired with Su Yin for a CP angle.”

“Me?” Pei Jiuyao’s head snapped up. “Wasn’t that meant for Sheng Xia?”

“Sheng Xia fought with her agent and flat-out refused. Bai Zhi can’t handle her, so it’s been dumped on you.” Wen Li slid the electronic contract across the table.

“Then I absolutely refuse—”

She rapped her knuckles on the desk. “Forgot about your ‘slave contract’?”

At present, Pei Jiuyao and Sheng Xia were a screen CP, and thanks to that pairing, they’d landed several good scripts. Both serious about acting, their partnership was mutually beneficial.

Su Yin, however, was different. A total newbie with no skills, just a resource leech who would only drain Pei Jiuyao dry—while provoking backlash from CP fans.

But the contract she’d signed with Bai Zhi left her no room to refuse.

Wen Li’s stern expression softened a little. “It’s an S+ variety show. Apart from the CP hype, it’ll be good exposure for you.”

Pei Jiuyao ruffled her hair and slumped forward onto the desk.

Her mind was even more of a mess.

The drama had finally reached her doorstep.