As a Scummy Omega, I Ran Away with the Baby - Chapter 22

It took quite a while before Bai Qingqiu was finally willing to close her eyes and rest, though she insisted on doing so while clinging to Gu Yining from behind.

Gu Yining couldn’t do anything about it, so she let her be.

Qingqiu had always liked physical closeness—it gave her a sense of safety that nothing else could replace. Between lovers, even without sweet words or deliberate gestures, just leaning close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s breath and body was already enough to soothe the heart.

That was why Yining herself had done countless things similar to what Qingqiu was doing now.

Qingqiu’s reactions had always been indifferent, as if such intimacy was dispensable to her. Yet she never rejected it.

Of course, while she never initiated such closeness with Yining, she would sometimes pull her into an embrace of her own accord—though it felt more like someone casually cuddling a cat or a dog, whether in a good mood or out of comfort.

But never—not once—had Yining seen her like this.

Listening to the steady rhythm of the breaths brushing against her ear, Yining knew the woman behind her must have drifted off. She lowered her gaze, pried apart Qingqiu’s hands clasped around her waist, and tried to free herself.

Qingqiu’s hands were pale and delicate; even the slightest force left red marks blooming across the back of them.

Yining pressed her lips together, then gave up. She let the hands remain where they were.

If she wanted to hold on, then let her hold on.

“Mm…”

Deprived of her anchor, Qingqiu stirred uneasily. Her hand, draped across Yining’s waist, groped instinctively as if searching to draw her close again.

Quick as lightning, Yining grabbed a plush toy from the side and tucked it into her arms before slipping out of reach herself.

________________________________________

Being drunk didn’t mean she had blacked out.

The moment she woke, the humiliating memories of everything she’d done in front of Yining last night came rushing back in a torrent. Bai Qingqiu pressed her fingers against her brow in frustration. Drinking truly was a mistake.

At least… the baby seemed fine.

Hesitant, she rested a hand lightly on her lower abdomen.

In a few days, she would ask Aunt Han to buy a pregnancy test. By then, the result should be clear enough. She would tell Yining everything then, and together, they could decide—whether to keep it or not.

She couldn’t go to the hospital alone, anyway.

At the thought of hospitals, Qingqiu’s grip on the sheets tightened until her knuckles bulged, veins straining. The image of her mother bleeding out as doctors frantically tried to resuscitate her came surging back, panic flooding her chest until her body trembled uncontrollably.

That was why she always went to Dr. Lin’s clinic, no matter the illness.

Compared to the hospitals that haunted her with trauma, Dr. Lin’s practice felt more like an ordinary, cozy home. Apart from the occasional tension when she caught sight of the equipment, she was usually at ease.

There was no shrill monitors beeping, no stench of disinfectant, no frantic doctors and nurses with bloodstained clothes, no icy metal chairs.

“Qingqiu, breakfast’s ready.”

Gu Yining’s cheerful voice snapped her out of her memories.

Qingqiu lifted her gaze toward the doorway. Yining stood framed there in a crisp white sundress, her long hair swept loosely into a low ponytail, small daisy earrings dangling from her ears. She looked vibrant, fresh, impossibly alive.

Remembering last night’s disgrace, Qingqiu quickly averted her eyes, ears burning. But when her glance caught Yining’s open smile, clear and unbothered, she relaxed a little, setting aside the embarrassment she couldn’t put into words.

“Alright. You’re heading to work?”

Masking her emotions, she rose and walked toward her, feigning composure.

“Mm. Just a magazine shoot, then meeting a friend.”

As she spoke, Yining quickened her steps, humming lightly, her brows arched with genuine delight.

“Which friend?”

As far as Qingqiu knew, Yining’s circle of friends was tiny—barely three people she’d met back in high school and college, before entering the industry. They all lived elsewhere now, busy with work. If one had flown in just to see her, it would certainly explain Yining’s joy.

But Yining’s footsteps faltered ever so slightly before she resumed walking down the stairs.

“No one special. Just someone I met recently. Come on, hurry—Aunt Han made century egg congee and red rice sausages. Smells amazing.”

Clearly, Yining didn’t want to linger on the subject. Her attempt to change the topic was as clumsy as ever.

Qingqiu chuckled softly and let it go.

________________________________________

Chewing on a piece of red rice sausage, Yining tapped her phone to display the cover of the magazine she’d just mentioned, then handed it to Qingqiu.

It was H Fashion.

Though print media had long been in decline, circulation dwindling year after year, H still held weight in the industry. To stay afloat, it occasionally invited popular celebrities for covers to sell digital editions. Even so, H remained reputable. When Yining was in middle and high school, she, like her classmates, had eagerly bought copies at newsstands every week for makeup and fashion tips.

Back then, she never dreamed she’d one day grace its cover.

She swallowed the last bite of sausage, a wistful smile tugging at her lips.

“Yining…”

Qingqiu called her name, her voice cracking almost to a breaking point.

“What’s wrong?”

Puzzled, Yining turned her head—only to see Qingqiu deathly pale, clutching the phone as though she’d been struck.

On the screen, a pop-up notification hovered above the magazine cover:

[Bei Nanyan]: Alright, see you in a bit.

She saw it.

Yining’s throat closed up, her heartbeat stumbling into chaos. Almost reflexively, she snatched the phone back. The sharp corner dug into her palm before she realized how desperate she looked.

Hadn’t she prepared herself for this day all along?

“The friend you’re meeting… it’s her?” Qingqiu asked in a daze.

“…Yes.”

Yining turned her face aside, gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles ached. Hadn’t she already decided to give up completely? So why did her chest still twist at the thought of her? Why couldn’t she let go?

She squeezed her eyes shut, drew in a deep, steadying breath, then opened them again—her expression calm, betraying nothing. As if her hesitation, her panic just a moment ago, had been an illusion.

“I don’t allow you to see Bei Nanyan. Delete her. Don’t go.”

Qingqiu’s voice trembled with restraint at first, then quickened, her tone hardening until it was nearly a command.

“Why?” Yining’s eyes were level, her voice cool, meeting the red flush in Qingqiu’s gaze without flinching.

“Because I don’t like it.”

Perhaps out of guilt, Qingqiu turned her face away, her bloodless lips pressed into a thin, unyielding line.

“Do I not even have the freedom to make friends anymore?” Gu Yining let out a sharp laugh, her tone edged with fury. Before the other could reply, she pressed on, “Ever since we got together, everything I do has been arranged by you.

What I eat, what I do—every last detail is dictated by you. I’m like some pet you’ve raised, living only to please you, obeying your every word in exchange for scraps of affection. Everything in my life has to be arranged by you, controlled by you.”

By the end, Gu Yining could hardly breathe, gulping for air as tears spilled uncontrollably down her cheeks. A few drops slid past her lips—salty, bitter.

How ridiculous. How utterly ridiculous she was.

They had been together for more than four years, and in all that time, she—Gu Yining—had been nothing more than a pathetic, laughable substitute, a toy to be kept in Bai Qingqiu’s gilded cage. She had once been so proud of it, never realizing that Bai Qingqiu’s so-called “love” had never once placed her on equal footing.

It was always Bai Qingqiu who decided everything.

Fortunately, she had finally woken up. The caged bird had already clawed open a gap in the bars, waiting only for the day it could truly be free.

“I still have work. I’m leaving.”

With that, Gu Yining grabbed her phone, turned on her heel, and walked out without another glance.

________________________________________

When she arrived at the filming site, she was immediately met with the stares of Assistant Xiao Li and her manager, Sister An. Four wide eyes fixed on her at once—it was enough to make anyone feel suffocated.

“I watched a movie on the way here,” Gu Yining explained lightly.

A funny movie.

Except the joke was that she herself was the protagonist.

“No wonder.” Xiao Li exhaled dramatically and even patted her chest with exaggerated relief. “Ningning, you scared me to death.”

Xiao Li was always this energetic, always amusing. Despite herself, Gu Yining was a little cheered up and shifted the topic with a smile.

“By the way, why are you here, Sister An?”

According to the schedule, it was supposed to be Sister Hong who accompanied her to events this month. The change puzzled her.

“Your Sister Hong’s busy right now, so it’s me. What? Not happy to see me?”

Compared to Sister Hong, who flaunted her seniority with arrogance, Sister An seemed almost approachable—but only by contrast. Watching her forced smile, Gu Yining sighed inwardly. Neither of Bai Qingqiu’s managers had ever thought much of her.

“Of course not.” Gu Yining forced a dry smile, then quickly tugged Xiao Li’s sleeve. “Xiao Li, where’s the dressing room? It should be about time to get changed and head to makeup.”

“Right this way.”

Xiao Li, knowing full well about her social anxiety, naturally didn’t object.

________________________________________

With the drama Zhongqing still riding its wave of popularity, H Fashion had styled her in a look reminiscent of her character, Sun Xin—the young CEO. The outfit was a sharp, tailored, all-black haute couture suit.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror—an overly polished, hyper-stylized “Alpha”—Gu Yining let out a quiet sigh and tugged irritably at the tight knot of her tie.

It wasn’t that she hated suits; she just preferred dresses. At 176 cm tall, though, dresses were often ill-suited for her frame. Unless tailored perfectly, they made her look like a broad-shouldered man in drag.

What she truly despised was being forced into this kind of image.

Why did being an Alpha automatically mean she had to wear a suit and tie?

Oblivious to her inner turmoil, Xiao Li hooked an arm over her shoulder and marveled sincerely.

“Ningning, you were born for suits. You look so powerful.” Her starry-eyed gaze shone brighter than the studio lights.

“I am an Alpha,” Gu Yining muttered glumly, steeling her expression as she slipped into Sun Xin’s commanding aura. Masking herself in cold detachment, she strode into the studio.

________________________________________

“Yes, that’s it—perfect, look this way.”

The photographer’s camera clicked in rapid succession, each flash strobing through the room. Gu Yining bent gracefully to pick up a fallen rose from the flower pile at her feet. She held it loosely between her slender fingers, her face set in an expression of bored disdain that fit the theme perfectly.

“Good, good—yes, beautiful. Tilt your head a little, smell the flower. I want that air of superiority, like you’re looking down on the world.”

Well, that was something she’d had plenty of practice with—after all, hadn’t she been on the receiving end of it daily?

Gu Yining let out a wry smile and seamlessly shifted into the haughty pose the photographer demanded.

________________________________________

Though she’d wrapped countless shoots before, today felt different. For the first time in all her years in the industry, Gu Yining walked away from set with a true sense of freedom.

Turning down Xiao Li and Sister An’s invitations, she slipped quickly into a taxi.

“Driver, please.”

“Got it.”

The driver pressed down on the accelerator, and the rush of wind surged in through the window, whipping against Gu Yining’s face. She tilted her head up, gazing at the flawless blue sky outside, her long hair streaming wildly around her in the current.

________________________________________

“Over here!”

Under the scorching summer sun, Bei Nanyan sat by the window in their prearranged booth, waving cheerfully.

She wore a plain white T-shirt and jeans, her look simple, fresh, and striking. Her deep brown hair was tied up in a high ponytail, exposing the elegant line of her pale neck. Her smile—on a face that resembled Bai Qingqiu’s by six or seven parts—was open and bright.

So this was Bei Nanyan, the woman Bai Qingqiu had always loved? Vibrant, sunny, full of life.

Was it because Bai Qingqiu could never find joy in herself that she was drawn to someone like Bei Nanyan, someone whose warmth complemented her darkness?

Stepping into the wash of sunlight by the window, Gu Yining was surprised to find it didn’t feel hot at all, only gently warm, perhaps tempered by the glass.

“Do you want to see what you came for first,” Bei Nanyan asked as soon as Gu Yining sat down, “or should we talk about how to help you terminate your contract?”

Her bluntness caught Gu Yining off guard. She blinked, then answered slowly, “I’d like to see it first.”