The Fallen Film Queen’s Possessive Alpha - Chapter 47

The various cemeteries in Luocheng each cater to distinct clienteles. Some provide underworld discussion communities for academics, others attract elderly who passed peacefully to contemplate life in the afterlife. And of course, there are cemeteries dedicated solely to children who died young.

Perhaps it’s so these less fortunate children can find playmates in the next world and not feel too lonely.

Zhou Qiwei pulled out the weeds around the gravestone and helped Ji Xubai clean it. Ji Xubai arranged the fruits and snacks she had brought, then leaned against the tombstone, murmuring things to the child that no one else could hear.

They had known each other for years. During their time serving in the navy, Ji Xubai had always been cheerful and optimistic, as if nothing in the world could defeat her. But now, this woman leaning against the tombstone looked shockingly frail, as if weighed down by an unbearable burden one last straw away from complete collapse.

“I told Zhou Zhao not to come looking for me anymore,” Ji Xubai sighed deeply, her forehead pressed against the tombstone. “I wonder if our baby will blame me.”

She never lived long enough to understand such things. Zhou Qiwei pressed her lips together, silent for a while before speaking. “I saw you two at the café that day. When you didn’t show up at the reception afterward, I guessed what happened.”

Beside the small tombstone, there were not only the offerings Ji Xubai had brought but also chrysanthemums and tulips covering the grave likely sent by Zhou Qing and Du Ning. There was also a completed model airplane, a gift from Zhou Mu. Today, Zhou Qiwei had brought a jigsaw puzzle made from a candid photo she had taken when the baby was one month old.

Perhaps everyone copes with grief differently. The Zhou family’s way was to never speak of it, visit the grave dutifully, and wait for time to heal the pain.

Zhou Qiwei’s method was to face the pain head-on, desensitize herself to it, and gradually let go.

But Ji Xubai she might never let go. Sometimes, Zhou Qiwei couldn’t help but wonder if the aristocratic way of life handing children over to nannies, only seeing them regularly once they were old enough to be groomed and evaluated was truly better for adults.

That way, if a child died, it wouldn’t be so devastating. One could simply say, “Let’s have another.”

Zhou Zhao had even offered to be the one to bear the next child a touching sacrifice from a woman who treated work and power as essential as life itself.

Every time Zhou Qiwei recalled Zhou Zhao’s outrageous declaration when Ji Xubai asked for a divorce, she couldn’t help but think that the eldest Zhou sister must have had water in her brain long ago, rusting its gears beyond repair.

Luocheng had an eerie way of summoning people the moment they were thought of. Heavy footsteps came to a halt, and Zhou Zhao stood a few steps away, holding a medium-sized cardboard box.

This was unusual. By unspoken agreement, mornings belonged to Ji Xubai, while Zhou Zhao would visit in the afternoon. They had divided the day this way so Zhou Zhao wouldn’t upset Ji Xubai unnecessarily.

“I have a business trip tonight, so I came early,” the eldest Zhou sister explained in her black suit.

Neither of the two women responded, so she fell silent, setting down the box and pulling out its contents one by one children’s clothes, toys. With each item she revealed, Ji Xubai, still leaning against the tombstone, trembled more violently.

“Qiwei, you should go first,” Ji Xubai said quietly. “I need to talk to her.”

Ji Xubai steadied herself against the tombstone as she stood up, staggering slightly as she picked up a bouquet of flowers. Zhou Zhao instinctively moved to support her, only to be met with the white chrysanthemums smashing into his face. Seeing the situation unfold, Zhou Qiwei decided to make a swift exit, choosing not to get involved. after all, the worst that could happen was Zhou Zhao getting beaten up (though Zhou Qiwei suspected Ji Xubai might not actually have the heart to hurt him).

The one who falls in love first is destined to get hurt. No, perhaps it’s more accurate to say that loving the wrong person is what truly wounds.

Dr. Zhou, dressed in black athletic wear, glanced back at the scene. In the distance, Ji Xubai seemed highly emotional, while Zhou Zhao flailed about, apparently in tears. The two of them were now sobbing together.

Sigh.

By mid-November, Rubik’s Industries publicly disclosed its complete restructuring plan and announced the conclusion of its executive reshuffling. Ms. Zhou Qiwei was appointed as Chairwoman of the Board and CTO, while Ms. Du Xin transitioned to Managing Director and CEO. Ms. Xuan Tinglu assumed the role of Chairwoman for the newly reorganized Rubik’s Biophere Research Center.

Pop!

Zhou Qiwei cheered as she uncorked a bottle of champagne in her new top-floor office at Rubik’s, watching the liquid cascade into the glass like fireworks.

This was her celebration of finally freeing herself from the company’s operational burdens. Xuan Tinglu sprawled on the sofa like a beached fish, marveling at her friend’s unconventional thinking. Here was a company founder who was positively gleeful about relinquishing control, practically itching to roll herself out of the very enterprise she’d built. In all her years, Xuan Tinglu had never seen anyone quite like her.

“You’d probably love to resign as Chairwoman too and just remain a nominal CTO, wouldn’t you?” Chairwoman Xuan couldn’t resist teasing.

To her surprise, Zhou Qiwei declared without hesitation, “If Ms. Xuan Bird performs well on her KPIs, I’ll let her take over as Chairwoman in a couple of years!”

“No way!” Xuan Tinglu scrambled up from the sofa in protest. “I’m getting married! I want a family, a family!”

Standing beside her girlfriend, Song Haoyin cast a meaningful glance at Du Xin. The usually composed CEO cleared her throat and patted Xuan Tinglu’s shoulder. “Go fetch some glasses.”

Heh, they really were planning to get married. Zhou Qiwei took Song Haoyin’s hand as the two lovebirds basked in each other’s glow, filling the office with enough romantic atmosphere to float pink bubbles.

After the four raised their glasses in toast, Du Xin took Xuan Tinglu to meet with company executives, leaving just the couple in the office. Zhou Qiwei leaned close to Song Haoyin’s ear: “Angie’s coming back the day after tomorrow. I’ll go with you to pick her up, okay?”

The warm breath against her neck made Song Haoyin grip her glass tighter. This month had been consumed by training and film festival preparations for her, while Zhou Qiwei was buried in corporate restructuring. Their only meetings were late-night supper dates before returning to their respective busy schedules. Two days ago, Song Haoyin had noticed certain symptoms emerging she was desperately craving Zhou Qiwei’s pheromones. Now with Zhou Qiwei suddenly so close, she trembled, her legs even feeling weak.

A flush rose on her pale neck, but Zhou Qiwei didn’t notice. She only instinctively wanted to be closer to Song Haoyin, but before she could utter another word, Song Haoyin actually pushed her away.

Setting down her glass, Song Haoyin hurried out of the office, leaving Zhou Qiwei utterly bewildered.

“What’s wrong?” Zhou Qiwei stood outside the restroom, asking cautiously. “Are you feeling unwell?”

In the mirror, Song Haoyin’s face was flushed crimson, the rosy hue spreading down to her neck. She felt herself growing hotter by the second, confused by what was happening to her. Zhou Qiwei was still calling her name from outside. Song Haoyin wanted to respond but found herself unable to speak. Stumbling, she opened the door and collapsed into Zhou Qiwei’s arms.

“Sister?”

Though holding a beauty in his arms, Zhou Qiwei had no time for tender thoughts. Song Haoyin’s body was burning up, and this wasn’t normal!

As a professional, Dr. Zhou quickly recognized the symptoms: Song Haoyin was suffering from a classic case of pheromone allergy. He laid her on the sofa and immediately rushed to the bookshelf, opening a temperature-controlled safe that stored emergency pheromone-neutralizing medication.

Song Haoyin had slipped into semi-consciousness, lost in some unknown dreamscape. The moment Zhou Qiwei touched her, she reacted violently, resisting fiercely. No matter how many times he called her name, it was useless she even struck his face several times, her nails leaving scratches.

Left with no choice, Zhou Qiwei pinned her wrists and restrained her against the sofa, administering the neutralizing injection from behind.

But this couldn’t be resolved with just the neutralizing agent. Zhou Qiwei draped his coat over Song Haoyin, lifted her into his arms, and took the executive elevator straight to the parking garage, speeding toward St. Karl Hospital.

Just as luck arrives with unstoppable force, misfortune strikes when least expected sometimes even dog excrement falls from the sky while walking down the street.

In the digital age, it’s nearly impossible for public figures to keep their whereabouts secret, especially someone like Zhou Qiwei, who had become something of an urban legend. Despite St. Karl Hospital’s strict security, Zhou Qiwei’s frequent visits there were easy to track.

Walls have ears, and hospital staff often gossip about the famous patients they’ve seen. Even if bound by confidentiality agreements prevented them from leaking information online, other patients or outsourced service personnel had no such reservations.

After extensive online searches, Su Ye coincidentally found herself at St. Karl Hospital that very day. While waiting for her scheduled doctor, she overheard people whispering Song Haoyin had been admitted to the hospital!

Song Haoyin was diagnosed with delayed-onset pheromone allergy. Highly compatible pairs who had engaged in frequent shallow bonding without completing deep marking, followed by sudden cessation of pheromone fusion, could develop pseudo-dependency on each other’s pheromones.

The brain would interpret this pseudo-dependency as detrimental to reproduction, triggering genetic rejection of the partner’s pheromones.

Perhaps due to Song Haoyin’s recent intensive physical training affecting her glandular state, she had unknowingly slipped into this allergic condition craving the other’s pheromones, yet experiencing severe rejection symptoms upon any attempt at rebonding.

To put it simply, they had been “interacting” too much last month and too little this month. Zhou Qiwei, suffering from pheromone imbalance, exhibited separation anxiety instead of rejection symptoms.

Song Haoyin lay unconscious on the hospital bed, receiving intravenous fluids. Zhou Qiwei sat beside her, only now realizing his own exhaustion. But that didn’t matter. What truly weighed on him was this: as an expert in pheromone research, how could he have completely missed the signs of Song Haoyin’s condition?

After several dinner dates, she had truly lost her mind only knowing how to cling to Song Haoyin and act spoiled, completely neglecting to do anything substantial. She had even watched helplessly as her girlfriend developed an allergic reaction.

I really am a failure. I’ve let my sister down. I didn’t take good care of her; I was only thinking about my own happiness.

Zhou Qiwei’s self-reflection hadn’t even reached its most painful stage when Su Ye’s slap came flying. In one swift motion, Zhou Qiwei’s face was already burning red, leaving her utterly stunned.

At twenty-six years old, no one had ever slapped Zhou Qiwei across the face this was an unprecedented first. She instinctively touched her cheek, her mind completely muddled as she stared blankly at Su Ye.

Su Ye was about to charge at her again when the nursing staff and security from the VIP ward arrived on the scene, dragging her away.

“Zhou Qiwei, did you hit Haoyin?! You bastard! You you’re an abuser!”

From the moment Su Ye was dragged out, her voice echoed throughout the entire floor. The medical staff couldn’t help but suspect given the faint bruises on Song Haoyin’s fair wrists and the scratches on Zhou Qiwei’s face whether Zhou had indeed been violent toward Miss Song.

Ignoring the strange looks, Zhou Qiwei returned to Song Haoyin’s hospital room and called Xu Su.

At home, Qu Yuanzhi was enjoying a rare day off. She had slept in blissfully until noon, yawning as she descended the stairs, only to find her mother was also home.

“How rare. Nowadays, if I want to have a meal with our esteemed director Yuanzhi, I have to work around her schedule,” Qu Jinghan teased her daughter with a smile, her eyes full of warmth as she watched the most precious treasure she and her wife had raised come bounding down the stairs to sit beside her. This child had grown into a proper adult now, with a career she loved. Listening to her daughter’s cheerful chatter, Qu Jinghan smiled, when the time came, she could rest easy in the afterlife, knowing she could face her wife without regret.

Qu Yuanzhi had been busy lately, helping to organize a film festival while also preparing for a new shoot, leaving her exhausted every day. It had been over a week since she last had a meal with her mother. She happily chatted with her about work, asked after her health, and had barely gotten halfway through all she wanted to say when her phone rang.

Xu Su’s voice sounded unusually distorted over the line as she urgently said, “Miss Song has been hospitalized. Su Ye is claiming that President Zhou assaulted her it’s already trending on the daily news rankings!”

The expression on Qu Yuanzhi’s face caught Qu Jinghan’s attention. The CEO frowned had some bad news suddenly broken today?

“Qiwei she’s made the news. They’re saying she assaulted Song Haoyin.”

Flustered, Qu Yuanzhi ended the call and prepared to head to the office. Qu Jinghan, concerned, asked for details before pausing thoughtfully. “Don’t rush just yet. Let me make a call.”

The person Qu Jinghan called next was someone Qu Yuanzhi never would have expected her mother was actually contacting the head of the Zhou family. In Qu Yuanzhi’s limited memories of Zhou Qing, that woman had always been the picture of composure, eternally poised upon her throne of dignity.

Yet Qu Jinghan simply told her, “Your Zhou Qiwei just got slapped in the face.” Even through the phone, Qu Yuanzhi could hear the other end erupt into an unguarded, near-screaming exclamation of shock.

Wait, why was she telling Aunt Zhou about this? Qu Yuanzhi stared at her mother in confusion, only for her to drop another bombshell at least, to her.

“That’s right. My daughter just heard that your daughter got beaten up in the hospital.”

Let me sort out the relationships, Qu Yuanzhi counted on her fingers. I’m my mother’s daughter, so Zhou Qiwei is Zhou Qing’s daughter!

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