The Omega's Vow: Never Marry a Mama's Boy Alpha - Chapter 62

Half a month before the Spring Breeze Film Festival awards ceremony, Wen Yan received an official invitation from the festival organizers. It congratulated her on being nominated for the Spring Breeze Best Newcomer Award and invited her to attend the awards gala on March 12th.

For the Chinese film industry, the Spring Breeze Film Festival served as a comprehensive review and evaluation of all films from the previous year, much like an annual corporate meeting for a large enterprise. Beyond enthusiastic participation from industry insiders, it also attracted the attention of numerous audiences and film enthusiasts. In recent years, Chinese cinema had surged in prominence, achieving record-breaking box office success even in overseas markets, with its influence and expressive power steadily growing. As a result, foreign film distributors and importers also regarded the Spring Breeze Film Festival’s selections as a benchmark. Award-winning works would catch the eye of international investors, allowing them to step onto the global stage.

Gu Lin also received an invitation, with nominations for Best New Director and Best Cinematography. Two nominations for a single work was already a form of recognition and honor for any director. However, Gu Lin still felt somewhat unsatisfied. After all, it was an adaptation, and the story’s novelty didn’t particularly stand out to audiences. While the plot wasn’t dull, it also failed to leave a lasting impression.

But it didn’t matter Gu Lin was confident that his next film, Escape to Survival, would sweep even more awards.

The official Weibo account of the Spring Breeze Film Festival posted a self-produced video, as usual, previewing the nominated films and individuals, and formally introducing this year’s award presenters.

Best Actor Hua Cheng, Best Actress Su Suxin, and national treasure-level director Mao Wuwei each of them was a highly respected veteran in the industry. Director Mao, in particular, was considered a towering figure in the world of filmmaking.

Such video previews inevitably stirred up fierce competition within fan circles rushing to claim top comments, controlling the narrative, promoting their idols, and organizing fundraising campaigns. Fans of every celebrity followed the same repetitive playbook.

Wen Yan’s fans naturally noticed that their beloved “Yan Bao” had been nominated for the Best Newcomer Award and were overjoyed, celebrating wildly in their super topic. Panda Jie straightforwardly dropped a fundraising link and took the lead by contributing 50,000 yuan herself.

A flood of replies followed: “Thank you, Dad.”

When Wen Xiu came across the post, he couldn’t stop laughing and eagerly showed it to his sister, Wen Yan, like presenting a treasure.

“Sis, sis, your fans are so hilarious!”

They were on a flight back to China. The refined actress was lying in her first-class seat, wearing a hydrating face mask and resting with her eyes closed. Hearing her brother’s excited exclamations, she reluctantly opened her eyes.

Fundraising was a perfectly normal practice in fandom. Although Wen Yan hadn’t experienced it in her previous life, she was well aware of how it worked not having eaten pork didn’t mean she’d never seen a pig run. Still, when she saw the amount of 50,000 yuan, the newly debuted actress, who often attracted controversy, widened her eyes in slight bewilderment.

???

Are fans really this wealthy?

Even though Panda Jie clearly didn’t seem short on money her schedule was public, and she was often spotted at the airport her extravagant gesture still left Wen Yan stunned.

As someone who had never been a fan herself, she couldn’t quite grasp why fans would go to such lengths for their idols, even if she was the one being idolized.

“What’s so hilarious?”

Jin Yin remained busy with work throughout the flight, her Mac laptop resting on her knees, a Bluetooth headset over her ears, and two phones intermittently lighting up.

She had set them to silent mode; otherwise, the combined notification sounds from both devices would create a chaotic, clock-alarm-like melody.

Despite this, Jin Yin still managed to spare some attention to listen to the conversation between the siblings. Their relationship had grown significantly over the ten days in the United States, and chats like this had become commonplace.

Wen Xiu, once again, held out his phone and eagerly shared it with Jin Yin.

Jin Yin merely glanced at it before turning her gaze away, her hands never leaving the keyboard. Such scenes were all too familiar for a top-tier agent. She adjusted her slightly slipping glasses, her thin, cool lips parting slightly.

“Standard procedure. When Tang Mi was under my management, her fans collectively raised 20 million for her 18th birthday gift.”

“Of course, whether as an actor or an idol, they can’t directly accept cash from fans.”

“Everything was converted into high-end luxury goods, including real estate in Hokkaido, Japan.”

Recalling the lavish scene of Tang Mi unwrapping her gifts, Jin Yin, a self-proclaimed lover of money and a bit of a miser felt so envious she could have strangled that troublemaker. If not for the fact that this cash cow could still bring her more profits, she might not have been able to resist.

It was just too infuriatingly enviable.

But now, Jin Yin didn’t feel much about it anymore. She simply shared it as an amusing anecdote and teased Wen Yan after finishing her story.

“Don’t worry, whatever others have, you’ll have too.”

Two contracts as the promotional ambassador for international luxury brands had already been signed, and the advertisements were shot. Once they were released at the right time, Wen Yan’s status and value would rise to another level.

“And whatever others don’t have, you’ll have as well.”

Wen Yan neither agreed nor disagreed. What was the purpose of being an actor if not for attention, status, and money? These three words were too vulgar, so ambitious people would hypocritically embellish and gloss over them with “dreams.” Wen Yan disdained hiding her desires, they were raw and direct. These were what she wanted, what she was pursuing.

The title of “daughter-in-law of the Gu family” was nothing but an empty label, seemingly valuable but practically useless. Wealthy families didn’t support idlers; an omega who only took money without contributing was nothing more than a kept mistress. Wen Yan understood this clearly Ye Lan, the award-winning actress, was the best example.

Even after marrying and having children, she never stopped her career. Before marrying into the wealthy family, she had already won several Best Actress awards, and her fame even surpassed that of the Gu family. That was why Ye Lan was never referred to as “Mrs. Gu,” as if she were merely an alpha’s appendage, but was respectfully called “Actress Ye.”

Wen Yan didn’t want to be remembered in the future merely as Director Lin Ye’s lover or the Gu family’s young lady’s partner. She didn’t want her existence to depend on anyone.

“Then I’ll wait and see.”

Wen Yan peeled off her facial mask, revealing her coldly beautiful and delicate face. Her deep, peach-blossom eyes were filled with unwavering determination.

After returning to the country, apart from spending a cozy evening at home with Gu Lin on the first day, Wen Yan immediately resumed her hectic schedule, traveling across the nation for appearances and even guest-starring as the female lead in other singers’ music videos. She was so swamped that it felt like an endless cycle without a break.

The most crucial task at hand was preparing for the Spring Breeze Film Festival, a grand event where the evening gowns became a fierce battleground for celebrities to outshine one another.

This was the so-called “red carpet walk.”

Flanking both sides of the red carpet were nearly all of China’s entertainment reporters and social media influencers. Not even the slightest flaw could escape the lenses of their expensive cameras. It was common for stars to face public ridicule over outdated styling, with some even fading from the entertainment industry after such setbacks. Conversely, others captured the media’s full attention with extravagant gowns or uniquely daring outfits, landing on the day’s headlines and trending searches, thereby gaining a fresh wave of fans.

To ensure Wen Yan would outshine everyone, Jin Yin had long ago reached out to her wife, Gu Xian, asking her to design a stunning evening gown for the occasion. As a renowned fashion designer, creating an evening gown was no challenge for Gu Xian. However, she was displeased that her wife had made the request on behalf of another woman.

Even if that woman was her future sister-in-law, members of the Gu family didn’t need reasons or excuses to feel jealous.

Jin Yin had given so much for the Gu family, pouring her heart and soul into it, and in the end, she even had to pay a physical price agreeing to her wife’s demand to “lie down and take it”, just to secure that breathtaking gown.

The dress was monochromatic, in a deep rose red, yet its impeccable cut exuded a sense of high-end elegance.

The off-the-shoulder design highlighted Wen Yan’s graceful neckline and shoulders, reminiscent of rolling mountain ranges.

The partially open back revealed her shoulder blades, which trembled slightly like butterflies ready to take flight.

The slightly cinched waistline accentuated her slender figure, so delicate it seemed as if it could be held in one hand, evoking both fragility and endearment.

The mermaid-style train trailed elegantly on the ground, exuding nobility and grace, like a gentle goddess from Greek mythology. It also resembled a rose blooming on the earth, with the beauty treading upon the petals, carrying a rich, intoxicating fragrance.

During the fitting, both Jin Yin and Gu Xian were present. Gu Xian had stayed up for two nights working on the dress, her heavy dark circles perfectly concealed by makeup. However, the designer’s fatigue was still evident as she kept covering her mouth to yawn, making both Jin Yin and Wen Xiu feel relaxed and tempted to yawn along.

In less than a minute, the beauty who had taken the dress into the changing room emerged. The moment she opened the door, she captivated everyone’s gaze like a magnet, making it impossible to look away.

Her thick, wavy black hair, like seaweed, cascaded over her pure white shoulders, creating a striking contrast akin to the most exquisite ink-wash painting.

Her exquisite face and alluring figure seemed like the biased masterpiece of a creator, yet no one could muster even a hint of jealousy.

With each step, she moved with an ethereal grace, slowly approaching, carrying an invisible pressure that made everyone hold their breath unconsciously.

Gu Xian was the first to snap out of it, turning to glare fiercely at Jin Yin beside her, as if warning, “If you keep staring, I’ll gouge your eyes out.”

Jin Yin shuddered instantly and quickly offered an appeasing smile to her wife. But the moment her lips curved upward, Gu Xian pinched both sides of her cheeks.

“You were totally mesmerized just now!”

Though he himself had been the same, Gu Xian made no mention of it.

“No, no!”

Jin Yin, with a strong will to survive, quickly shook her head in denial. Joking aside, if Gu Xian drank that bottle of vinegar, her already sub-healthy body from work would be done for.

Meanwhile, Wen Xiu dashed over with sparkling eyes.

“Sis, sis, you look absolutely stunning!”

“Can I take a photo of you?”

He wanted to set it as his screensaver and wallpaper to look at every day, and by the way, send it to Sister Lin too.

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