After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine - Chapter 63.2

Chi Yang paused, then looked up at her, lips pressed tight, sounding almost aggrieved.

“She told me herself that she likes you.”

This time it was Pei Jiuyao who froze. She tapped the tent absent-mindedly.

“Regardless of what she thinks, nothing will happen between us. Don’t worry—I’ll make it clear to her.”

“What, you think I’m going to eat her alive?” Chi Yang stepped closer. “If you don’t like her, why defend her?”

“Chi Yang,” Pei Jiuyao said helplessly, “don’t be like this. I said I’ll talk to her. Stop getting jealous.”

Chi Yang knew she had let her strange, unwelcome possessiveness slip out again—something Pei Jiuyao disliked.

She bit her lip, lowered her gaze. When she looked up again, the coldness in her eyes was gone.

“I understand,” she whispered.

Pei Jiuyao hummed in acknowledgment and changed the subject. “I’m going to help Yinghan with the grill.”

While Pei Jiuyao and Ding Yinghan grilled, the others played a game set up by the directors, trying to win the alcohol Fang Qimeng had been pining for.

Their shouts and laughter kept drifting over, and Pei Jiuyao couldn’t help glancing that way again and again.

Under the night sky, lit by the flames, Chi Yang’s face was as bright as the first time she saw her. She laughed wholeheartedly with Fang Qimeng—and looked especially delighted whenever she beat Su Yin.

On camera, she was always flawless: the triple-crowned Best Actress, the darling of the entertainment world, adored by all.

She wasn’t just favored by fate and by the lens, but by the masses.

Even after retiring for a year, she still topped last year’s “Most Beloved Actress” list without suspense.

But only Pei Jiuyao saw her other side.

Chi Yang revealed all her darkness, her gloom, her twisted possessiveness to Pei Jiuyao—just as she revealed all her fragility, helplessness, and hidden scars.

When Fang Qimeng, clutching her bottle, shouted, “How can you have barbecue without alcohol!” everyone slowly surrendered to the warmth and blur of drunkenness.

The night shimmered; starlight rippled faintly as the endless wilderness stretched into the open plain. Firelight burned against the blackness, licking at the reddish-brown logs and crackling softly in the quiet.

When Pei Jiuyao looked up, she met Chi Yang’s eyes—glimmering like scattered diamonds.

When everything wrapped up, Fang Qimeng and the others began dancing around the bonfire. After Pei Jiuyao and Ding Yinghan finished cleaning up, they sat off to the side to watch.

Chi Yang borrowed a guitar from the production team and played a gentle tune.

Ding Yinghan, half-dozing against the table, hummed along for a while before opening her eyes. “This sounds like one of Jiuyao’s songs.”

The debut album Pei Jiuyao had released with Xu You had been a massive hit—but even the most successful albums always had a couple of overlooked tracks.

This song was one of them.

Pei Jiuyao herself wasn’t even that familiar with it, yet Chi Yang played it effortlessly, as though she had practiced it countless times.

After the last note faded, Chi Yang glanced her way and smiled. “Since it’s your song, I’m guessing the show won’t charge me licensing fees?”

The teasing in her voice swept all the earlier ambiguity into the open. Ding Yinghan chuckled too. “Jiuyao should charge them more when the episode airs.”

Everyone was tired and tipsy. They drifted off to sleep early. Chi Yang had originally just lain back on the picnic mat to rest, and somehow dozed off.

Pei Jiuyao, who had drunk very little because of her bad stomach, stayed outside helping the staff clean up. When she spotted Chi Yang, she realized the girl was the only one still out there.

She walked over and tapped her shoulder. “It’s cold out here. Come on, get up, go inside and sleep.”

Chi Yang slowly opened her eyes—dazed, vacant, as if her soul had slipped away.

Just like that night.

Pei Jiuyao couldn’t help remembering. Had Chi Yang always fallen into these empty trances? Had she been spacing out like this more often lately?

“Chi Yang, let’s go.” She patted her again.

No reaction. Chi Yang looked at her with an unfamiliar, hollow gaze—as if Pei Jiuyao wasn’t even there.

Half a minute later, Chi Yang’s eyes drifted closed again.

“Chi Yang!” Pei called out, louder this time. Still no response.

She can’t be pretending right? Maybe she just drank too much.

Left with no choice, Pei Jiuyao slid one arm around Chi Yang’s back and another behind her knees, lifting her up. She carried her into the tent and set her down on the mattress.

The moment she did, Chi Yang’s eyes fluttered open.

A thin sheen of moisture shimmered in them as she stared up at Pei Jiuyao—so intently that Pei forgot to straighten up.

After a long moment, Chi Yang’s lips curved faintly. “It really is you. Just now I thought.”

“Thought what?”

“Nothing.” Her voice was quiet. After a pause, hoarse, she added, “You carried me.”

Pei Jiuyao stiffened and quickly withdrew her hand from behind Chi Yang’s leg. “Just get some sleep. I’ll—”

“Wait.” Chi Yang cut her off. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“Come in first. It’s cold.” Chi Yang lifted the blanket. When Pei Jiuyao didn’t move, she added, “I’m not going to do anything to you.”

Only then did Pei get in, settling beside her.

“Do you know Helen Jones?”

“Of course.” Pei nodded. Helen Jones was one of the most sought-after international pop stars in recent years.

“My company has connections with her label. I want.” Chi Yang paused. “I want to see if I can help you two collaborate.”

Pei Jiuyao’s eyes brightened. “Really?”

Singing wasn’t her primary career, but collaborating with a global star—regardless of the results—would be an invaluable opportunity.

Seeing her happy made Chi Yang happy too. “I thought you wouldn’t like using my resources. That you’d get upset.”

“Of course not.” Pei turned toward her, her eyes shining in the darkness, sincere and soft. “It’s an amazing opportunity. I love it. Thank you, Chi Yang.”

Chi Yang’s smile faded into something quieter. “Still calling me Chi Yang?”

“Xiao—Xiao Li.” Pei whispered, “Thank you. I really needed this.”

“Then where’s my reward?” Chi Yang asked, lifting her gaze to meet Pei’s.

Pei froze. Chi Yang was plainly asking for payment. “What do you want?”

“You can kiss me.” Chi Yang answered softly.

Maybe Chi Yang was the one truly in control, Pei thought.

Always tugging her heart forward, then retreating. All that so-called control Pei thought she had—was nothing more than Chi Yang placing her own lifeline into Pei’s palm and saying: you may do anything to me.

Pei Jiuyao leaned in, cupping Chi Yang’s cheek, brushing a feather-light kiss against her lips.

Chi Yang’s lashes trembled as she slowly sank into the touch.

The sweetness in that cramped, shadowed space made Pei want to crush her like a strawberry candy.

She fought the urge, cupping Chi Yang’s face more firmly, and kissed her again—deeper this time.

A kiss was a reward. Touches felt like rewards too. Even when their lips parted, Pei’s hand never left Chi Yang’s skin.

Her fingers slid gently along Chi Yang’s cheek, down her neck, behind her ear where a red mole hid, then into her soft hair.

Inside the empty tent, even their breaths echoed, scattering through the air.

Chi Yang finally felt pleasure loosening the knots inside her. She knew Pei wouldn’t refuse her—not tonight, not when it came to kissing.

So, she leaned in herself, arms circling Pei’s waist, pressing up to kiss her hard.

The contact only fed the chaos in her chest. A touch she’d been starving for, for a whole year—dizzying, overwhelming, not nearly enough. She pushed Pei down, rougher, deeper, prying her lips open, invading like a hungry wolf.

Their tongues tangled, messy and desperate, wet sounds filling the tiny tent. Their hair caught together. When Chi Yang pushed Pei back again, she even knocked against Pei’s canine tooth, a smear of blood blooming on her lip.

She propped herself up, then chuckled despite the sting. She sat back, found a hair tie, and handed it to Pei, who tied her hair up for her.

Then she leaned in and carefully licked the trace of blood from Chi Yang’s lips.

Desire blurred the air around them. Pei Jiuyao’s dark eyes fixed on Chi Yang as she rasped, “Do you want more?”

Chi Yang didn’t answer. She only rose up again and crushed her lips to Pei Jiuyao’s—soft, flushed, hungry red.