She doesn’t want to pretend to be an Omega either! - Chapter 6

Wen Mo quickly realized—she hadn’t put on any makeup today, just showed up to class with her natural baby-face.

No wonder her classmates were whispering that she looked like an Omega.

Except for her three roommates, no one in the class had ever seen her barefaced before. It wasn’t surprising that they didn’t recognize her right away.

She glanced over the lecture hall again but didn’t spot her roommates.

That, too, wasn’t strange. Their dorm had a very consistent culture: the first class of the morning was something none of them would ever show up for. At this hour, the others were no doubt still fast asleep, busy meeting the God of Dreams.

“Nope, I’m in the right place.” Wen Mo drew back her gaze and smiled at the girl in the first row who had spoken to her. “I’m Wen Mo. We’re in the same class.”

The girl’s eyes instantly went wide. She practically shouted in disbelief:

“Wen Mo?!!”

“What?! Wen Mo?!”

“No way!”

“…Which Wen Mo?”

“I think it really is her… the build and facial features match…”

“Oh my god, is this what Wen Mo looks like without makeup? She’s so c—”

“Shh! Keep your voice down!”

“…”

The buzz of conversation erupted like a shockwave at first, then quickly faded as people hushed one another.

Wen Mo, however, stayed perfectly calm. She simply stood there with a mild smile, listening quietly without the slightest surprise.

After all, “Wen Mo” was a minor celebrity on campus—wealthy, arrogant, notoriously hard to deal with. Ordinary students from modest families naturally didn’t dare cross her.

Changing that kind of reputation wasn’t something words could do. Wen Mo wasn’t interested in giving explanations anyway; she believed in letting her actions speak.

And with the gossip network of college students, it wouldn’t take long before news of “Wen Mo’s dramatic image change” spread across campus.

The classroom grew quiet again.

The girl in the first row, the one closest to her, was sitting while Wen Mo stood facing her. Maybe the awkward atmosphere got to her, because she forced a little smile and said, “Wen Mo… what brings you here?”

Wen Mo blinked. “What do you mean? I’m here for class, of course.”

The girl: “…Huh?”

Wen Mo: “Aren’t you here for class too?”

The girl: “Well, yes… but I’ve literally never seen you in a first-period lecture before.”

Wen Mo: “Ah, right. I got up early today.”

The girl: “…Oh. I see.”

Wen Mo: “Mm!”

The girl just stared, stunned, unsure how to continue the conversation.

Wen Mo thought she was kind of cute. Smiling again, she asked, “By the way, did you bring your textbook?”

The girl hesitated. “…I did.”

“Perfect!” Wen Mo’s smile brightened. “Can we share?”

The girl’s cheeks warmed as she looked at Wen Mo’s sweet, soft face. “O-of course.”

“Thanks!” Wen Mo said cheerfully and plopped down beside her without hesitation.

The girl stared at her in shock, as if meeting her for the very first time.

And in truth, this was the longest conversation they had ever had in more than a year of being classmates.

Wen Mo didn’t mind. She casually leaned closer so the girl could place the book between them. Blushing, the girl lowered her head, pulled out her textbook, and set it down in the middle.

More students filed into the classroom just as the bell rang. They, too, glanced curiously at the “stranger” in the front row but didn’t have time to study her before the teacher walked in, prompting everyone to hurry into seats.

Wen Mo’s major was philosophy—chosen for no particular reason, just something she’d randomly picked.

Although she had been a science track student before, her liberal arts foundation wasn’t bad. As long as she listened carefully, she could follow along.

Since she had landed here, Wen Mo fully intended to graduate properly. Her grades didn’t need to be outstanding, but failing was absolutely not an option!

That day’s lecturer was an elderly professor with a mild temperament. He spoke slowly, completely immersed in his teaching, ignoring the scattered whispers among the students.

Wen Mo wasn’t being narcissistic—it was obvious their whispers were about her.

Sitting in the very front row made her an easy target. Dozens of eyes lingered on her back. It was hard to ignore, but she tried anyway.

Being a campus “celebrity” meant being gossiped about. She was used to it.

At least no one dared to confront her directly. She had half expected someone to approach her after class with questions, but no one did.

Everyone seemed to have reached a silent consensus not to disturb her. They must have already spread the news among themselves during lecture.

Or maybe they thought that just because she looked gentler barefaced, she was still the same spoiled, short-tempered second-gen rich kid.

Either way, Wen Mo was fine with being left alone. She turned to the girl beside her, whose name she had just glimpsed in the textbook, and said warmly, “Classmate Qin Wenya, you brought the next class’s book too, right?”

Qin Wenya, however, had not found the class relaxing.

Sitting beside Wen Mo was pressure enough—but she also felt countless eyes drifting their way, curious about why Wen Mo suddenly chose to sit with her.

The stares and whispers didn’t matter; she could always explain later. What truly unsettled her was having Wen Mo herself right next to her.

She had been in the same class for over a semester. Though they’d never interacted, she’d heard plenty of stories about Wen Mo.

Not just hearsay, either—she’d once seen her off-campus, hanging out with a group of shady types, smoking, drinking, surrounded by flashy men and women who definitely didn’t look like they had proper jobs.

On campus, Wen Mo was infamous for strutting around like she owned the place, never greeting classmates. The only exceptions were the pretty Omegas in their year, to whom she would flash a smile—one that never failed to feel less than innocent.

And in truth, it wasn’t innocent.

To someone like Qin Wenya, an ordinary Beta, Wen Mo had always been utterly indifferent.

They might be classmates, but they didn’t belong to the same world.

And yet, this very same Wen Mo was suddenly sitting right beside her, looking soft and angelic, earnestly taking notes like a model student. The contradiction was almost surreal.

Now Wen Mo was even smiling warmly at her, calling her name.

The feeling was ridiculous—but it was like being singled out by a celebrity in a crowd.

Qin Wenya wasn’t a fan, but she was still shaken. “Y-you actually know my name?”

Of course, Wen Mo had just learned it. But she wasn’t about to admit that.

After being classmates for over a year, not knowing someone’s name and then asking to share their textbook was far too insulting.

So Wen Mo simply smiled. “I have a good friend whose name also has the character ‘Wen.’”

“…Oh.” Wen Mo’s barefaced smile was so bright that Qin Wenya had trouble meeting her eyes. She ducked her head, recalled Wen Mo’s earlier question, and said softly, “Yes, I brought the textbook.”

“Then can we keep sharing next period too?” Wen Mo asked.

Qin Wenya nodded again, powerless to refuse. “Of course.”

“Thank you!” Wen Mo beamed.

“Y-you’re welcome…”

And just like that, Qin Wenya became Wen Mo’s regular desk mate.

From then on, whenever there was a core subject class, Wen Mo would sit beside her.

Life settled into this rhythm for more than a month. Wen Mo fully adapted to her new routine.

Not that it was hard. It wasn’t so different from before: going to class, heading back to the dorm, spending her free time reading novels, watching shows, or playing games. A happy, carefree college student.

The only awkward part had been those first few days, when she could feel her roommates’ strange stares.

The morning she came back barefaced after attending classes, they even surrounded her with questions. Not about her looks, surprisingly, but about the shocking fact that she had actually attended all her morning lectures.

News of this had already spread through the class group chat. Her roommates woke up, checked their phones, and instantly saw the gossip.

Wen Mo was also in the group, though the chat was mostly anonymous. Still, whenever her roommates were tagged, their real names showed.

Most classmates didn’t dare discuss Wen Mo openly. And since her roommates lived under her “tyranny” every day, they were even less inclined to gossip. They bottled it up instead.

When Wen Mo returned, they finally asked cautiously.

She answered with a straight face: “From now on, I’m going to study hard, reform myself, and become a brand-new person.”

Her three roommates: “…”

Do you think we believe that?

Of course they didn’t. They all assumed she must have been hit by something big.

And that “something” was most likely related to Yin Qingyue.

They didn’t dare pry, though. They just laughed it off and changed the subject, afraid of poking her sore spot.

They thought it was just a passing phase, that she’d keep it up for a day or two at most.

But unbelievably, she stuck with it for over a month!

If they hadn’t known for certain that Wen Mo had no twin, they might have thought she’d been swapped out for someone else.

At first, they were baffled and unsettled. But after a month, they began to accept it.

After all, who would complain? This new Wen Mo was much easier to live with than the arrogant, bossy version who used to order them around.

As for the reason behind her sudden change, they had plenty of theories.

The most convincing, in their eyes, was love—Wen Mo must have fallen hard for Yin Qingyue, only to be harshly rejected. Heartbroken, she was now determined to remake herself into someone Yin Qingyue might like.

As Wen Mo’s closest roommates, they inevitably slipped up when classmates asked questions.

And so the gossip spread: Wen Mo had changed because of a love wound.

Of course, no one dared repeat that rumor to her face. Wen Mo herself never heard it.

Not until the other party in the rumor reached out directly—

[Yin Qingyue]: Are you doing okay lately?