Becoming the Comfort Alpha for the Aloof Movie Queen - Chapter 3

Opening Oneself to Another

As she stepped out the door, Ming Tanqing lowered her head and let out a soft cough.

Lin Xiuzhu reacted as if facing a formidable enemy, asking urgently, “Are you feeling unwell? Is it your gland?”

Ming Tanqing was amused by her friend’s excessive tension. “I’m not that fragile. You’re all being too dramatic.”

Lin Xiuzhu twitched the corner of her mouth, remaining silent but unconvinced.

It wasn’t that she was overreacting; it was because she had seen Ming Tanqing during an episode.

Lying on a hospital bed, the woman had lost half her body weight in a short time. Her neck was wrapped in instruments monitoring pheromone concentration—devices that looked like the claws of a demon, strangling the life out of Ming Tanqing.

Lin Xiuzhu had been terrified.

She had stepped forward, wanting to observe her friend’s condition more closely, only to be blocked by a glass wall.

“What is this?”

A staff member stepped forward. “The patient needs to be isolated from the outside world. Her pheromone fluctuations are too volatile. If you go in, it will only increase her pain.”

Ming Tanqing lay there all alone, with not even a medical professional by her side.

Lin Xiuzhu asked, “Not even a Beta?”

The staff member shook her head, then offered a small consolation: “When the situation is stable, it’s possible. Or, you must wear an isolation suit.”

It was a treatment, but it was also a cage.

Pheromone Disorder Syndrome—a hereditary genetic disease said to have an incidence rate of only one in a billion.

Patients cannot control their glands and are unable to actively release pheromones, yet their sensitivity to others’ pheromones is heightened a thousandfold.

Under normal circumstances, an Omega only responds to pheromones from a high-compatibility Alpha or an S-class Alpha.

However, an Omega suffering from this disease will uncontrollably crave the pheromones of any Alpha. If the target is a Beta, there is even a chance of being induced into a secondary differentiation.

Fortunately, Ming Tanqing herself was an even rarer S-class Omega, giving her a stronger ability to resist pheromone influence.

Even so, during the worst year of her illness, Ming Tanqing was trapped in an isolation room and forced to put her acting career on hold.

Out of love for their daughter, the Ming family had acquired numerous medical enterprises and invested countless amounts into gland disease projects.

Since “Pheromone Disorder Syndrome” is a rare disease with few cases, research progress was slow.

Logically, as a genetic disease, there should have been a family history to reference. Strangely, Ming Tanqing’s parents were perfectly healthy, and there were no prior cases in their lineage.

After two years, a glimmer of hope finally appeared—theoretically, if an Alpha induced an Omega to release pheromones, it could alleviate the symptoms.

This Alpha would not only need to be S-class but also have a compatibility rate of over 95% with Ming Tanqing.

However, finding someone who met those requirements was as difficult as reaching the heavens.

To put it in perspective, an Alpha-Omega compatibility higher than 90% is considered a “match made in heaven,” let alone the requirement for both to be S-class.

Ming Tanqing’s current improvement relied on specialized medication. Despite the many side effects and the painful injection process, it was still wonderful news for her.

Theoretically, if she received enough injections, she could return to the film industry she loved.

In the car, Ming Tanqing gazed out the window at the blurred city streets.

During her absence, the faces of celebrities on the giant billboards had changed cycle after cycle.

In the distance, a young Alpha’s smile was radiant. The large screen looped through meticulously edited clips of various roles: a general, a college student, a police officer… countless characters with the same face. Liang Ruojing.

It was a New Year’s support project organized by her fan club. In the plaza, fans were still gathered, taking photos to commemorate the moment.

Ming Tanqing thought of the Alpha’s expression at the elevator door.

Surprise, excitement, happiness.

And the fresh scent of mint liquor.

Hidden behind her scarf, her gland began to heat up slightly. Ming Tanqing could feel her own pheromones leaking out uncontrollably.

The amount was small, but it was enough to shock her.

To attend today’s banquet, Ming Tanqing had prepared for a long time. She had not only injected a sufficient dose of her medication but had also taken a suppressor to ensure absolute safety.

Her family’s medical team had specifically tested her; her pheromone levels were currently very stable. Before the medicine wore off, there should have been zero risk of leakage.

Mint liquor… that was that Alpha’s pheromone.

Ming Tanqing leaned back in her seat, trying her best to untangle her chaotic thoughts, but the scent clinging to her body was exceptionally teasing, assertively declaring its presence.

It was like the first sip of wine she had ever tasted in her life—low in alcohol content, fresh, with a lingering sweetness. At first, it was faint, enticing you to taste more. After a few glasses, the dizziness began.

Then, looking in the mirror, she would see her flushed face through a blur, realizing she had long been intoxicated.

Heat continued to sprout, spreading from her fingertips to every inch of her body.

Ming Tanqing went limp, unconsciously burying her face in her scarf. her face was flushed red by the self-generated heat.

It was hot.

But it was also comfortable and reassuring.

Before she knew it, the interior of the car was filled with the fresh fragrance of Casablanca lilies.

Liang Ruojing finally understood what Bai Zheng meant by “I won’t lose to you this time.”

Tang Yuecen had given her a new script—the female lead for an S-class TV drama project. The theme and character setting were both excellent.

The director was Lin Xiuzhu, a rising star who had been gaining significant momentum in recent years. Of the two films Lin had directed this year, one broke the annual box office record, and the other swept various film festivals; she was both a commercial and critical success.

For such a prestigious project with open auditions, it was natural that Bai Zheng had also received the script. Liang Ruojing had become her “imaginary rival” for the Nth time.

Seeing that Liang Ruojing wasn’t as excited as expected, Tang Yuecen glanced at her. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to play this part.”

“Of course I want to.”

An opportunity like this was something Liang Ruojing dreamed of. She was ambitious and wanted to climb higher peaks; she didn’t want to spend her life applauding for others.

But considering the director was of international caliber and the role was a leading one—the kind that carries the whole show—Liang Ruojing had to keep her expectations in check.

It was past midnight, the start of a new year. Tang Yuecen drove Liang Ruojing home.

Before parting, Tang Yuecen patted the Alpha’s shoulder to comfort her. “If Bai Zheng considers it hers for the taking, we shouldn’t be humble either. Your look fits the character much better than hers.”

“Prepare well for the audition. There are also some good TV scripts here; take a look when you have a chance.”

Over the past year, Tang Yuecen had followed her everywhere, yet the results hadn’t lived up to the effort. Hearing these words from Tang now felt strangely bittersweet.

“Sister Tang…” Liang Ruojing gripped the thick script.

Tang Yuecen ruffled the Alpha’s hair and smiled. “We’ll give it our all. If we do our best with the opportunities we get, there will be no regrets.”

No regrets.

Liang Ruojing felt a bit lighter. “Happy New Year, Sister Tang.”

That being said, when Liang Ruojing finished her shower and lay in bed facing the dense script, she still felt a bit intimidated.

A serious drama isn’t like an idol drama. Though the episodes may be fewer, the amount of information conveyed is often greater. It requires much more “storytelling depth” from the actor.

The characters in serious dramas are usually more complex, testing an actor’s ability to understand and shape a persona.

Liang Ruojing flipped through two pages, reading more carefully than she ever had for a high school literature exam. And just like those exams, her notes were filled to the brim, though she wasn’t sure if they were “correct.”

She opened her phone. Before her brain could even process the action, her fingers instinctively typed in “Ming Tanqing.”

The top trending topics were, as expected, about tonight.

With no prior promotion and only rumors beforehand, Ming Tanqing’s sudden comeback had sent fans into a frenzy. Gossiping crowds from all platforms were swarming Ming Tanqing’s comment section.

Like most celebrities, Ming Tanqing had posted “business photos” after the banquet ended.

Compared to the dazzling brilliance under a thousand spotlights, Ming Tanqing in the photos felt less distant. She was curled up in a chair, wrapped in a thick shawl, looking like a precious Persian cat.

Liang Ruojing scrolled down and liked all the top comments praising Ming Tanqing.

Tang Yuecen managed her main account and had already left a flawless official greeting, which fans had helped vote to the top.

Liang Ruojing paused, then used her “sock-puppet” account to leave a message: “Welcome back, take care of your health.”

She stared at the photo for a moment, and without thinking too much, switched apps to open a video in her favorites.

It was the Golden Icon Awards ceremony.

Thirteen years ago, Ming Tanqing was only fourteen—a child. The first movie in which she played the female lead achieved both commercial and artistic success.

The video was playing the beginning; little Ming Tanqing was sitting upright. The results were about to be announced, and she looked a bit nervous.

Liang Ruojing had watched this ceremony many times. She knew that in the next second, the host would call Ming Tanqing’s name. The directors and actors sitting around her would hug her all at once. Little Ming Tanqing would stand up and walk briskly to the stage.

A smile, a deep breath, a speech, and a bow.

In the video, little Ming Tanqing had already stepped down with her trophy. Liang Ruojing thought back to their chance encounter at the elevator and that scent of lilies.

Was that Ming Tanqing’s pheromone?

It was a rare chance to meet privately for the first time, yet she hadn’t managed a proper introduction. She should have at least said, “I’ve always liked you.”

As for the pheromones…

Ming Tanqing was an S-class Omega; the impact should not be too large. Next time, should she explain?

Liang Ruojing couldn’t sleep, so she pulled the script back out to work.

The sunlight outside heated the blankets. Liang Ruojing woke up slowly, realizing she had fallen asleep while reading the script.

January 1st, the first day of the New Year.

A popular young star usually has many engagements, but the company showed some humanity by giving her a day off. Tang Yuecen had found several movies and shows with similar themes for her to “study hard.”

Her phone rang; Liang Ruojing answered.

“Mom—”

“Come down quickly,” Ms. Liang said with her usual whirlwind energy. “We’re eating lunch at home. I’m downstairs.”

Liang Ruojing picked out a black trench coat, put on a black baseball cap and sunglasses, and headed down.

Ms. Liang Can was used to her daughter’s “all-black” fashion and just raised an eyebrow without saying anything.

Passing a giant billboard where the fan support was still hanging, Liang Can pointed and said to her daughter, “Hey, I just realized you look a bit like this big star.”

“Mom, stop teasing me.”

Liang Ruojing paused a video, rewound it, and once again analyzed the actor’s performance.

Liang Can saw it. “Isn’t this Ming Tanqing? Your mother really loves this show; she just re-watched it a few days ago.”

As an Omega, Su Jing particularly admired Ming Tanqing. She was a professor of literature and usually found very few works worth her time. Ming Tanqing’s work was good. Her own daughter’s acting… wasn’t bad.

“Don’t argue with your mother in a bit, do you hear me?” Liang Can said suddenly.

Liang Ruojing understood.

Sure enough, as soon as she entered the house, Liang Ruojing saw a stranger—an Omega—sitting on the sofa.

The girl looked gentle and soft, likely no older than twenty-two—exactly the “most appropriate age” in Su Jing’s opinion.

Seeing Liang Ruojing enter, the Omega stood up quickly.

Liang Ruojing took off the items covering her face. The girl stole a quick glance, and her speech sped up.

“Professor Su, I’ve borrowed the books. I won’t bother you further. Happy New Year! I’m heading back now.”

Liang Ruojing stepped aside to clear the way. The Omega slowed her pace, looked up, and whispered a greeting: “Hello, Senior. I watched your new show; you acted very well…”

Liang Ruojing gave a professional smile. “I’m glad you liked it. It’s thanks to the whole crew.”

The Omega’s face turned redder, and she left quickly.

Liang Ruojing caught a faint, sweet scent of cream—not her type.

“She’s my student; she just came to borrow books. I wasn’t trying to set you up,” Su Jing said.

Su Jing used to worry about Liang Ruojing being single, but she had come to terms with it in recent years. She had been afraid of gland issues, but everything seemed fine now.

“I know, Mom. I really have no plans to date for now.” Liang Ruojing set down the things she had bought and went into the kitchen.

Su Jing leaned against the doorframe, watching her daughter’s focused profile, curious. “If that’s the case, then when will you?”

Liang Ruojing paused. “Maybe when I win Best Actress.”

Why does it seem like I’m always thinking of her?

Perhaps it was the power of an idol.

At the same time, the Ming family villa was crowded with medical personnel.

Since 1:00 AM, a steady stream of top gland specialists had been coming and going. They had received some exhilarating news.

Ming Tanqing was able to release pheromones spontaneously.

It only lasted for a brief half-hour.

The specialists were still discussing the reasons behind it. But did this mean that Pheromone Disorder Syndrome could be completely cured?

“Miss Ming, did you come into contact with any medications or people last night?” The lead doctor asked, holding a clipboard, her eyes shining with scholarly fervor.

Ming Tanqing sat on the sofa in the isolation room, everyone’s eyes on her.

She understood her condition and knew the theoretically best option: find an S-class Alpha with high enough compatibility, accept a mark, and undergo a long process of pheromone therapy.

Biological structures dictated that an Omega could only accept the mark of one Alpha in their lifetime. Furthermore, pheromone therapy meant opening herself up to another person.

A loveless, forced bond.

That was not the outcome Ming Tanqing wanted.

The lead doctor saw Ming Tanqing’s persistence. She was an Omega too, so she could empathize with her. But she was also a healer who had watched Ming Tanqing suffer for two years.

“Just a trial. We can research further.”

The doctor added, “There will be better medicines, and there are other people suffering from this…”

Ming Tanqing lowered her eyelashes.

“I… I met an Alpha.”