The Stand-In Alpha Goes Viral on a Dating Show - Chapter 37.2

Mingyu startled at her own thought. What’s wrong with me? That’s my father. I shouldn’t fear him… let alone think of him that way.

She forced herself closer, finally stopping in front of him. “Dad.”

He studied her carefully. “It feels like you’re hiding something from me.”

Her heart thudded violently. Panic flashed in her eyes. Does he already know?

“Don’t be nervous. It’s all right.” He gave a soothing smile. “Just remember—you will always be my precious daughter. That will never change.”

If she’d had doubts before, those words erased them. He knew. He definitely knew.

“Then… Mother…”

Terror crept back into her voice. In her mind, no matter how deep feelings ran, blood still mattered. And she was nothing but the child her birth mother had slipped into the Ming family by deception.

What exactly had her father uncovered? How much did he know?

Turning to his business partners, Father Ming said smoothly, “Excuse me. I’d like a private word with my daughter.”

The men immediately consented, even praising the Ming family’s father-daughter bond before leaving them alone.

Mingyu fought to maintain her composure, offering the practiced smile of a dutiful daughter. But once the two were inside a soundproof room, her father’s genial mask slipped into cool neutrality.

“Your mother knows as well. In fact, everything that should and shouldn’t be known—we know it all. Your birth mother told us. Learning that the daughter we cherished all these years wasn’t ours… of course, it hurt. But we couldn’t bear to lose you. So we’ve decided to act as if nothing ever happened.”

His voice was unnervingly calm, so detached it made her blood run cold.

Maybe he doesn’t know everything, she tried to reassure herself. At least not that I was switched on purpose. Maybe they’re still in the dark about that.

“She said you’ve even thought about plastic surgery more than once. Absolutely not. If outsiders have their doubts, let them doubt. It doesn’t matter. As long as your mother and I acknowledge you, that’s enough.”

He laid a hand on her shoulder. His palm, chillingly cold, made her shiver.

“Yu’er, are you cold?”

He draped his suit jacket over her shoulders, speaking with weighty gravity:

“Now that we know your secret, let me share one of mine. The Ming family isn’t as prosperous as you think. Without you, there is no future. You must grow strong—to help your mother and me.”

The words were heavy with unspoken meaning, hinting at looming crisis. For once, Mingyu believed her father was not lying.

“Go on, then. Continue with the show. Let more people witness your brilliance.”

Opening the door, he dismissed her with a gentle smile.

But once she left, his smile twisted. He pulled a small mirror from his pocket, gazing into it as Mingyu’s talk of plastic surgery echoed in his mind. Slowly, his lips curved into a complicated smile that hardened into rage.

“Plastic surgery? I won’t let you repeat my mistake.”

From a locked briefcase, he retrieved a faded photograph of a timid young man, barely in his twenties. Few would recognize him. For this was his true face. He was never the Ming family patriarch—only an illegitimate branch child, chosen for his resemblance to the deceased heir. After the heir and his wife died tragically, he had been surgically altered and installed as a stand-in.

The true power still rested with the old master, who once secretly retrieved his granddaughter—the Ming family’s genuine heir—only for her to be swapped at birth by Mingyu’s mother.

And so, no matter how desperately the old master clung to bloodline, in the end, it was an illusion.

For the false patriarch, however, Mingyu’s hidden parentage was leverage—her bloodline gave him confidence to one day wrest control of the Ming family.

“Don’t disappoint me, Yu’er.”

He tucked away the mirror and photo. By the time he reopened the door, he had already donned the mask of the charismatic President Ming once more.

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When Mingyu returned to filming, the business-minded guests eagerly went to greet her father. But noticing her distracted air, they politely withdrew.

Though her father promised she would always be his daughter, unease gnawed deeper than ever. What crisis loomed over the Ming family? And what if the true daughter someday returned—what would become of her then?

Her thoughts spun in turmoil when a group of carefree youths spotted her.

“Look! That’s Miss Ming!”

In an instant, they swarmed forward like a wave. At that moment, a real wave rocked the yacht, sending bodies crashing together. Several stumbled into the rail, knocking a petite girl straight into the sea. Others toppled after her, until only one Alpha barely clung to the railing, screaming for help.

Chi Wan emerged with a cloak in hand, only to realize An Ran was missing. Panic clamped her chest as she heard shouts of distress from below.

Rushing to the railing, she saw a limp figure sinking into the waves, arms feebly paddling before giving up altogether.

The thought of An Ran dying struck her like a lightning bolt to the skull.

Without hesitation, Chi Wan vaulted over the rail and plunged into the sea.

Save her. I must save her!

The cloak slipped from her arm, carried off by the wind, spiraling gently before falling into the waves, where it grew heavy with water and slowly sank.

“Chi Wan! Oh god—she jumped in! Can she even swim?” Xia Meng’s voice shook with panic as she screamed for help.

Lu Xin bit down hard. “I can swim—I’m going in!”

None of them knew the truth of Chi Wan’s swimming skills. Before Chu Rou could stop her, Lu Xin had already leapt over the side.
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Guided by the system’s voice, Chi Wan finally grasped An Ran’s arm. Saltwater burned her senses, but she held on, pressing her last breath of air against An Ran’s lips.

In that fleeting kiss beneath the waves, sunlight shimmered above, softness pressed against her, and two hearts hammered together in fragile defiance of death.

See, An Ran? I’ve caught you.

Mm… you’ve caught me.

Tears welled at the corners of An Ran’s eyes, dissolving into the sea.

“Chi Wan! Chi Wan!” Lu Xin’s desperate cries echoed across the water. “Damn it—where are you?!”

“Lu Xin, don’t go too far!” Xia Meng called anxiously from the deck.

Just as Lu Xin steeled herself to dive deeper, two figures broke the surface at last.

Chi Wan—clutching An Ran.

An Ran had swallowed far too much water. Her face was ghostly pale, wet hair clinging to her cheeks, lashes trembling faintly. Weak and weightless, she lay draped across Chi Wan’s arms, barely alive.

Chi Wan knew the drowning wasn’t just physical—An Ran had been paralyzed by sheer terror. After all, in her previous life, she had drowned at sea.

Dark clouds gathered on the horizon, heavy with omen. Though An Ran was safe in her embrace, Chi Wan’s heart could not rest until she was on solid ground.
Only once the crew and guests pulled An Ran aboard and a doctor began attending her did the crushing weight on Chi Wan’s chest finally lift.

But just then, Xia Meng’s sharp eyes caught movement in the distance. Her face drained of color.

“Oh my god—Lu Xin!”