The Fallen Film Queen’s Possessive Alpha - Chapter 5

The Bio Pheromone Research Institute, jointly established by Magic Cube Industries and Luocheng Seventh University, is located northeast of Luocheng, adjacent to the university district.

This was a familiar road for Song Haoyin. For four years, she had walked back and forth under the plane trees, though it had been a long time since her last visit. Today, she drove here because of Zhou Qiwei. Lately, she had been busy with her comeback preparations, but when she suddenly remembered her current “obligation,” she realized her patron hadn’t called or texted instead, she had sent an email.

The email contained just one line: If you have time in the near future, please come to the institute. I’ll be here all week. [Institute Address]

It had been nearly a month since their last shallow marking. Under normal circumstances, fully differentiated Alphas and Omegas should undergo shallow marking or absorb compatible pheromones monthly to maintain hormonal balance and prevent unstable sensitive periods. However, Omega sensitive periods are far milder than those of Alphas, which is why Alphas crave pheromones much more intensely than Omegas.

Since Zhou Qiwei had only sent an email, she probably wasn’t in a hurry. Still, Song Haoyin chose the earliest available date and notified her. Of course, her visit wasn’t just about fulfilling an obligation she had something far more important to discuss with Zhou Qiwei.

“We’ve tentatively released some feelers online, but the public response to Haoyin’s comeback hasn’t been positive.”

On social media, Song Haoyin’s “greatest crime” was the so-called tax evasion scandal though in reality, the unpaid taxes had been embezzled by her financial manager. To outsiders, however, it appeared as though she had masterminded the scheme, warranting her permanent retirement from the entertainment industry.

Other accusations “diva behavior,” “fighting over her father’s inheritance before her mother’s body was cold,” and “defying her late mother’s wishes” had further tarnished her image.

To the public, Song Haoyin had been the epitome of a privileged, well-educated, and exceptionally talented actress a role model even teenagers could look up to. But once scandal erupted, some felt her image had collapsed, while others eagerly dug up so-called “dirt” to prove that everyone in showbiz was morally bankrupt.

The projection screen displayed high-frequency keywords and trending comments about “Song Haoyin’s comeback.” Xu Su had also noted signs of “external interference,” but after filtering accounts under specific conditions, it became clear that ordinary users’ declining perception of Song Haoyin was largely due to the relentless barrage of “scandals” flooding their feeds.

From a PR standpoint, this wasn’t the right time for a comeback. Based on her professional judgment, Xu Su believed Song Haoyin should wait longer whether or not the embezzlement case was resolved. As a non-suspect, she could gradually reassert her presence, letting the public readjust to her return.

Alternatively, Song Haoyin could temporarily relocate abroad for studies or projects expanding her career while avoiding the domestic backlash.

But Song Haoyin wanted neither of these solutions. What she needed was to immediately return to work, take full control of her studio, and find a way to kick Su Ye and Zuo Wangxun out. Additionally, there was the matter of her mother’s legacy:

Among Director Song Yu’s estate, the money was secondary. The most important things were the Emerging Directors’ Encouragement and Development Foundation and the Luocheng Film Festival both projects Director Song had been spearheading before her death. Song Haoyin didn’t want her mother’s lifelong efforts to go to waste; she was determined to complete what her mother had left unfinished.

“If there’s a way to properly resolve the tax issues, do you have a contingency plan for the potential public backlash once I make my comeback?” Song Haoyin asked.

Xu Su was confident: “Flood social media with a barrage of ambiguous information, creating viral coverage to divert public attention elsewhere.” In other words, redirect the fire. Xu Su had handled plenty of entertainment industry projects in her PR career. Moreover, thanks to Miss Zhou Qiwei’s substantial financial backing, she had already gathered several explosive scoops in just a week.

To smoothly execute her plan, Song Haoyin needed Zhou Qiwei’s help which was the real reason she now stood outside the research institute.

The security measures at this research institute were exceptionally tight. A guard post stood a kilometer from the main entrance, where visitors had to register with their real names and, most importantly, receive confirmation from the institute before being allowed in. To pass through the main gate, they also had to undergo X-ray scans to ensure no dangerous items were being carried.

The shadow of a plane tree fell at her feet as Song Haoyin waited for the guard to confirm her visit. Bored, she stepped on the fallen leaves and glanced at the institute’s main building in the distance. The white, eggshell-like oval structure stood before a spacious lawn, where a large stone Rubik’s Cube sculpture was displayed.

The carving was exquisite the front cubes were hollowed out and could rotate like a real Rubik’s Cube. Song Haoyin owned a jade piece carved in the same style, depicting a lion playing with a ball, likely from the same school of craftsmanship as this stone sculpture. She could even guess which master artisan had created it.

“Ms. Zhou has confirmed your visit. Please proceed, Miss Song,” the guard said, handing her a temporary parking permit and politely directing her where to park.

After parking, Song Haoyin walked toward Zhou Qiwei’s office. It was nearly noon, and the institute bustled with people coming and going. She passed many without drawing stares or whispers just the occasional curious glance over a shoulder.

This really was a good place.

Exiting the elevator, she walked down the wide corridor to the innermost office on the top floor of the four-story building. A nameplate read: Zhou Qiwei. Song Haoyin stood at the door and knocked lightly, but there was no answer. After several attempts, she sensed something amiss and tried the handle.

The door opened. Inside, the room was empty but two cups of coffee sat on the desk.

Accompanied by the news broadcast from the office television and the hissing sound of the air humidifier, Song Haoyin closed the door and caught a whiff of a strange scent a mix of cognac and cheap fruit candy. Following the cloyingly sweet, alcohol-laced aroma, she crossed the room and found Zhou Qiwei lying unconscious on the sofa chair.

The woman, pale-faced with her shirt soaked in sweat, was a far cry from the composed, confident figure Song Haoyin usually encountered. Without hesitation, she picked up the remote from the carpet and turned on the air circulation fan. Zhou must have intended to activate it before collapsing.

On the coffee table beside the sofa lay Zhou Qiwei’s phone, her suit jacket tossed nearby, barely clinging to the edge. The jacket reeked of that overpowering, cheap fruit candy scent.

With a grimace, Song Haoyin flung the jacket onto the armrest. She already knew what had happened: some Omega had come to satisfy the CEO’s “needs,” only for their pheromone compatibility to backfire. After kicking the guest out, the delicate CEO had fainted on the sofa.

Song Haoyin’s beautiful face darkened as she recalled her recent conversation with Du Xin. When pressed for answers, Du Xin had stammered before finally admitting she felt responsible for Zhou Qiwei. Their world was tangled in convoluted relationships, and Song Haoyin let out a self-deprecating laugh hadn’t she, too, become a pawn in this game?

Finding high-compatibility pheromones wasn’t easy, but with Zhou Qiwei’s wealth, it was hardly an obstacle. Watching the unconscious woman, Song Haoyin mused bitterly that no matter what scent Zhou preferred, she could always handpick the perfect match. To her, no one was truly irreplaceable.

Had Zhou ever earnestly told others, “Your pheromones are my favorite scent,” or insisted it wasn’t some transactional arrangement just a normal investment, with pheromones as collateral? In the end, it was still a cold exchange of goods. Maybe she was the one being overly sentimental, Song Haoyin thought.

Zhou Qiwei stirred, her usually vibrant eyes fluttering open with exhaustion. To her surprise, Song Haoyin stood by the window, her tall frame blocking most of the light. Propping herself up in the shadows, Zhou studied Song Haoyin’s back for a moment before calmly saying, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you’d arrived.”

Today, Song Haoyin was different. As she approached, her towering gaze inexplicably unnerved Zhou, who stiffened, shoulders hunching. How should an Alpha react when an Omega closed in like this?

“Your pheromones smell off. You should change them.”

Zhou tried to stop her, but weakness left her powerless. When she reached for Song Haoyin’s wrist, the latter leveraged the motion to push her back onto the sofa. Their eyes locked, an odd glimmer in Song Haoyin’s gaze as the scent of elderflower grew stronger. With a sigh, Zhou surrendered, melting into Song Haoyin’s embrace.

Originally intending to intimidate the person, Song Haoyin froze when the other leaned into her embrace. One standing, one seated, Zhou Qiwei gently tugged at Song’s clothes, whispering for her to sit down before exposing her own scent gland: “Try it. I don’t like this current scent either.”

Perhaps it was Zhou Qiwei’s visibly weakened state, or perhaps Song Haoyin’s compassion flaring up regardless, she abandoned all thoughts of “threatening.”

Her teeth lightly pierced the other’s scent gland as their pheromones intertwined once more. The cloying artificial fruit candy scent was completely overpowered by the blend of cognac and elderflower, filling the room with a mellow, refreshing fruit-liqueur fragrance. “Thank you,” Zhou Qiwei murmured.

“No need. Since the studio hasn’t yielded returns on your investment yet, providing pheromones is only natural.” Song Haoyin offered a plastic smile, her expression screaming look how perfectly I know my place.

This was obviously poor acting meant to deceive. Zhou Qiwei could tell Song was displeased, though she couldn’t fathom why the woman’s attitude had shifted so abruptly when their last meeting had shown significant improvement.

Am I really that detestable?

As the compatible pheromones took effect, Zhou Qiwei gradually regained strength. Song had long since released her, now perched on the opposite end of the couch. The sweat-dampened shirt clung coldly to her skin. Her pheromones had been unstable today something must have gone wrong with the synthesized solution from the medicine cabinet. The injection had left Zhou Qiwei feeling like she’d taken counterfeit drugs.

At least Song Haoyin had been here. Zhou Qiwei observed the woman maintaining her “safe distance,” recognizing that even when displeased, Song would still provide the lifesaving pheromones. If nothing else, Zhou Qiwei mused, at least she still had money to buy her salvation.

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