The Stand-In Alpha Goes Viral on a Dating Show - Chapter 39

After turning around, Chi Wan kept her back to them. She slipped her phone out of her pocket, opened the camera, and quietly glanced at them through the lens.

From their appearance, their clothes were plain, even a little shabby, with mud caked on their shoes—obviously from traveling long distances on foot.

Debt collectors? Hardly. The original owner of this body never owed anyone money. But then why, at the mere sight of them, did this body instinctively want to hide?

While she was still pondering, the group started walking toward her.

Chi Wan thought to herself: If it’s fate, it can’t be avoided. If it’s trouble, there’s no dodging it anyway. She didn’t walk away, but she also didn’t confront them directly—choosing instead to stand slightly to the side.

“Miss, could we ask you for directions?”

The moment one of them spoke, their thick rural accent revealed itself, painting an impression of simple, honest folk without even needing to see their faces.

Chi Wan blinked in surprise. Once she heard the question clearly, she realized they were asking for the way to the university she and An Ran attended. She pointed them in the right direction, then couldn’t help but ask:

“Where are you coming from? Are you going there to see family?”

They didn’t try to hide anything, answering truthfully. To her surprise, they turned out to be from the very same village as the body’s original owner. And the person they were looking for at the university—was none other than the original Chi Wan.

“Chi girl hasn’t been back for a while. Her mother prepared some things for her. We happened to be in the city for medical treatment, so we brought them along.”

Hearing the familiar dialect and rustic accent tugged at Chi Wan’s chest, leaving her with a dull, inexplicable ache.

“Oh right, what’s your name? We feel like we’ve really taken a liking to you.”

An older woman beamed, squinting as she gave Chi Wan another long look. Then, as if making a discovery, she exclaimed excitedly:

“Now that I look closer, you actually resemble Chi girl a little—but you’re more fashionable than her.”

The others crowded around, chiming in:

“True, true, she’s right. What sharp eyes you’ve got, auntie.”

“Miss, don’t believe us? We’ve even got Chi girl’s photo—look for yourself.”

The woman fished a one-inch photo out of her pocket, likely given by the original owner’s mother. Chi Wan leaned closer, and her heart skipped.

The girl in the picture had two neat braids, a timid expression, and shyly looked at the camera. Her appearance stirred pity—simple, innocent, completely untainted by the city.

No wonder the villagers only thought she looked similar. None of them suspected she was the girl in the photo.

【In fact, whenever the original owner returned home after becoming an influencer, she always dressed exactly like she did in that photo.】

The system’s sudden remark startled Chi Wan. Why?

【Because the original owner’s mother disapproved of her career. Back when a talent scout first discovered her, her mother strictly forbade it and even forced her to swear never to enter the entertainment industry.】

Chi Wan frowned. Strange. Was her mother hiding something?

By logic, her mother’s health had been poor, and the family finances dire. At a time when they needed money, why reject a lucrative career so firmly—even forcing her daughter to make such a vow? It seemed less like stubbornness and more like evasion.

Without money for treatment, her mother wouldn’t live long. That was practically exchanging her life to avoid something.

Chi Wan couldn’t shake the feeling—there had to be more to this story. Perhaps even a buried secret about the original owner’s true identity.

After a few more polite words with the villagers, she watched them leave for the university, then returned to the hospital, mind heavy with questions.

Inside, An Ran was already awake but curled up tightly, her whole body radiating unease. Only when she heard Chi Wan’s footsteps did she relax slightly.

Not long before, a doctor had approached her:

“Little miss, where are your family members?”

“They’re gone. They passed away a long time ago,” An Ran had answered in a trembling voice.

The doctor paused mid-step, then asked an oddly pointed question:

“Do you know your parents’ blood type?”

An Ran shook her head. For a moment, Mingyu’s face flashed across her mind, hardening her resolve. She wanted to say more, but the thought of Chi Wan made her hesitate. In the end, she only shook her head again.

The doctor’s eyes narrowed. His instincts told him this girl was hiding something—and her blood type, even her appearance…

Without another word, he left quickly, went to his office, and dialed the dean’s number.

This hospital had long been funded by Elder Ming’s large yearly donations—completely independent of the current Ming family head.

An Ran knew this, which was exactly why she chose this place. In her panic, surrounded by the sea earlier, she had remembered the humiliations of her past life. Gritting her teeth, she had come here. But now that she’d calmed down, she realized she’d acted too rashly.

Something like this should have been planned carefully.

But judging from the doctor’s look and words, she knew suspicion had already been aroused.

Did she regret it?

Maybe a little. She had been too hasty.

But when she thought of her only kin in this world—the elderly man who’d died unjustly in her previous life—her heart clenched in pain.

Perhaps it was better to act on impulse, just once. Sooner or later, this day would come anyway.

“An Ran, hungry? Here, eat something.”

Chi Wan handed her the lunch she had bought, just as Chu Rou called:

“Chi Wan, if An Ran is alright, please return to the yacht before three this afternoon.”

“Got it.” Chi Wan repeated the message.

An Ran didn’t protest. She knew a paternity test would take at least a few hours, even when rushed, and besides—part of her felt a creeping dread at the thought of returning home.

In her past life, by this time Elder Ming had probably already begun to suspect Mingyu’s parentage but held his silence, unwilling to alert the snake in the grass.

Because Elder Ming had one fatal weakness: his real granddaughter. Even until death, he suspected she was being controlled, forced to give up her identity to Mingyu.

It was precisely this weakness that left him unable to strike back in the end. He shouldn’t have lost.

But because of her, he had been utterly defeated.

“An Ran! Your lips are bleeding—stop biting them!”

Chi Wan had just opened the lunchbox when the rich smell of food filled the room. Glancing back, she froze—bright blood trailed from An Ran’s lips down her delicate chin.

Alarmed, she reached out to pry her lips from her teeth, fingers brushing against the smear of red.

“What’s wrong? Why are you so lost in thought?”

Her expression looked both aggrieved and resentful.

“Who bullied you?”

Chi Wan carefully dabbed at the blood with tissues and a cotton swab, her face filled with distress. But when she looked up, she found An Ran’s gaze locked firmly onto her.

“What is it?”

For some reason, Chi Wan felt her chest tighten.

“Chi Wan… do you really love money that much?”

An Ran leaned her head on her shoulder, voice low and tremulous. The question came out of nowhere, abrupt and strange—but no one else knew the insecurity eating away inside her.

“Not really. I do like money, sure, but I wouldn’t say I love it. Don’t believe everything online—I’m not nearly as materialistic as they say.”

Chi Wan answered softly, cautious not to upset her further.

“Is that so… what a pity.”

The words slipped out so quietly Chi Wan didn’t catch them, though the faint trace of regret pricked at her heart.

An Ran didn’t repeat herself. She already felt embarrassed enough, knowing it was her own insecurity that had made her want to cling desperately to this person.

Like drowning in icy waters, clutching the only piece of driftwood that might keep her alive.

She knew Chi Wan liked her—but, just as with money, it wasn’t “enough.” That was why she asked that odd question.

Do you like money?

A strange, almost shameful thought had taken root: if Chi Wan really was as mercenary as the rumors said, then when her real identity was restored and she inherited wealth, wouldn’t Chi Wan like her more?

But Chi Wan couldn’t know what storm raged in this pale, fragile girl’s heart. She only felt the hospital room grow heavy and stifling.

Trying to break the tension, she glanced at An Ran’s bare feet.

On instinct, she touched them. Cool, smooth, like fine porcelain.

Startled by the warm contact on her toes, An Ran flinched, eyes wide with confusion.

“Your feet are cold. Shouldn’t you put on socks?”

Chi Wan, realizing her own forwardness, explained quickly—then teasingly brushed her fingers between An Ran’s toes.

An Ran let out a muffled sound, curling back further.

“You’re really sensitive,” Chi Wan chuckled, tracing along the delicate arch and curve of her foot.

Wherever her fingers skimmed, fire seemed to bloom, leaving An Ran flushed and tense, veins faintly visible beneath her taut skin.

“D-don’t…”

“You say don’t, but why aren’t you pulling away?”

Chi Wan’s fingers had already reached her ankle, circling teasingly around the bone. Her voice was thick with mischief.

Tears welled in An Ran’s eyes as she bent her knee to draw her foot back—only for a warm palm to catch it firmly.

“Be good. Don’t move.” Chi Wan’s hand covered the top of her foot, her breath brushing An Ran’s ear. “Let me warm them for you.”

No socks needed.

“Mmm—!”

An Ran bit back her tears. Shame flooded her. Why did such a small touch make her react so strongly? Was it simply because it was Chi Wan?

She didn’t know—only that her consciousness wavered, unsteady.

Remembering that An Ran still had to eat, Chi Wan stopped once her feet were warm, resting her chin in her palm and watching her eat with an amused gaze.

An Ran’s cheeks were still tinged with lingering color. Irritated by the weight of Chi Wan’s eyes, she turned her back in protest.

Hmph! Too much. I don’t even want to look at her right now.

But soon enough, a finger tapped lightly at her shoulder blade—gentle, teasing, impossible to ignore.

“What are you doing! Can’t you let me eat in peace?”

An Ran turned, glaring, like a little cat with its fur puffed up.

Yet the prettiest part was her watery eyes, stubborn and shining with defiance.

“Alright, I’ll stop.”

Chi Wan reined herself in. An Ran studied her carefully, weighing her sincerity. Only when she confirmed Chi Wan wasn’t going to push further did she huff and return to her meal.

By three o’clock, the two of them were back aboard the yacht.

The moment they stepped on deck, they were told the guests were in the middle of playing Truth or Dare.

At that very moment, someone approached against the light, leaned in close to Chi Wan’s ear, and with a teasing breath, whispered an invitation:

“Chi Wan, be my girlfriend. I need a stand-in too.”