The Stand-In Alpha Goes Viral on a Dating Show - Chapter 42

“A masquerade ball?”

“That sounds like so much fun.”

The moment the guests heard this, many of them grew excited. Tonight’s schedule was free, which meant they could enjoy themselves without restraint.

“Exactly—it’s great fun. Everyone wears a mask, and you might even get to experience a whole new identity. Plus, a lot of powerful businessmen attend. For example, Miss Ming’s father—he’s practically a regular at these balls.”

The man gave Mingyu a teasing wink, while Mingyu was startled to learn her father was so fond of such things.

“The whole event is full of thrills and surprises—you definitely don’t want to miss it.”

With a jaunty wave to the guests, he walked away in high spirits.

Gu Lin squirmed under Qu Huan’s shy, lingering gaze. She wanted to snap, What on earth are you trying to do? But she didn’t want to admit how flustered she felt from being stared at like that.

Compared to Qu Huan’s increasingly obvious looks, Shi Yi’s eyes only grew darker. What unsettled her was that An Ran showed not a trace of embarrassment or unease. That wasn’t normal—unless she had kissed the wrong person.

But she had clearly seen An Ran enter the break room. Unless… there had been a third person inside?

As an Alpha, the thought that she might have kissed another Alpha made Shi Yi’s stomach twist with nausea.

The guests soon made their way to the styling room to plan their looks. While most were excited, Chi Wan felt uneasy. The more she thought about the man’s earlier words, the more they sounded like a warning wrapped in charm.

“An Ran, maybe we should go for something a little conservative.”

She pulled out a satin gown so long it would hide her feet once she wore it, then added a shawl that covered her arms completely.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

An Ran eyed her dubiously. “If something happens, how are you going to run in a dress that long?”

“If there’s real danger, I’ll tear the hem and run like mad. Which is exactly why I’m not wearing heels.”

Chi Wan picked a pair of flat sandals.

“I actually think heels could be a handy weapon if needed,” An Ran said firmly, recalling the break room incident. She chose a pair of stilettos without hesitation.

Chi Wan stared at her for a long moment, then sighed inwardly: Fine. If worst comes to worst, I’ll just carry her and run.

Neither of them brought up the public kiss on the deck—as if both had conveniently forgotten.

“Welcome, esteemed guests. Please draw your identity cards in an orderly fashion.”

The attendant at the door wore a practiced smile.

“Identity cards?”

Mo Wei’s curiosity was piqued. She was the first to draw one. The front bore only a number, but on the back was an image of a watermelon.

“Watermelon? What does that mean?”

Her words had barely left her lips when she heard Chi Wan’s equally puzzled voice: “A fork? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mo Wei looked over and saw Chi Wan holding a card with a delicately engraved fork on the back—it looked more like a crown than cutlery.

The attendant only smiled mysteriously. “It will be revealed later.” His grin, however, seemed strangely unsettling.

An Ran’s card bore a cluster of grapes.

“Did anyone get chopsticks or a spoon?”

Chi Wan was genuinely curious. The identity cards featured all kinds of food motifs, but so far she seemed to be the only one with a fork—specifically, a silver fork.

“I drew a fork too, but mine’s bronze,” Shi Yi said, sounding regretful as she discreetly glanced at Chi Wan.

“Silver fork, bronze fork… then there must be a gold one as well?”

Chi Wan frowned, deep in thought. Gold, silver, bronze—it was hard not to think of rankings.

Once everyone had drawn a card, the host announced the start of the evening. The first event was a waltz in pairs, followed by frequent changes of partners.

Since guests entered in full costume, some were recognized only by their voices. Chi Wan and An Ran happened to bump into Mo Wei and Shi Yi at the drawing table.

Mo Wei quickly shifted her attention from her card to Chi Wan’s outfit. When she got a good look, she burst into mocking laughter.

“What on earth are you wearing? You look ridiculous.”

Chi Wan’s mask covered her face entirely, chin and all.

“Mind your own business.”

Chi Wan rolled her eyes and tugged An Ran further inside.

In the deepest part of the hall sat several men in elaborate medieval garb, sipping wine and chatting. Once tipsy, they rose to look for partners.

Many flocked toward them, eager to attract wealthy patrons. If one was hunting for romance, why not aim for the richest prey? Naturally, the men seated at the back, radiating authority, became the most sought after.

“This was a mistake. We shouldn’t have come in so deep. Let’s get out.”

Chi Wan was about to pull An Ran away when a sudden shove sent her reeling. More people pushed past, and in the chaos, she was separated from An Ran.

Panicked, she scanned the crowd until she spotted a figure dressed much like An Ran. Certain it was her, Chi Wan hurried over—only to catch a whiff of cigarette smoke. Her heart sank. It wasn’t An Ran at all—it was Meng Lan.

She turned to leave, but Meng Lan suddenly lunged forward, grabbing her wrist. Up close, Chi Wan smelled the sharp sting of liquor.

“You’ve been drinking?” she frowned.

“Yeah. I was upset.”

Meng Lan’s cheeks were flushed. “Didn’t think the afterburn would hit this hard. Feels like I’m about to float away.”

She staggered and collapsed against Chi Wan’s chest.

Just then, the lights dimmed and the first notes of a waltz swelled through the hall. Couples joined the dance floor, swaying in romantic rhythm.

Chi Wan had no choice. She and Meng Lan were now stuck in the middle, standing still while everyone else danced. It was far too conspicuous.

“Come on. Let’s just dance.”

Meng Lan tugged at Chi Wan’s sleeve, and they moved stiffly into the steps. Chi Wan felt mechanical, her mind elsewhere.

She missed An Ran.

“Hey, you’re distracted. Who are you thinking about?”

Suddenly, Meng Lan let go of her hand and cupped Chi Wan’s face instead. Her alcohol-flushed features drew close—so close that if not for their masks, their noses would have touched.

Chi Wan froze, her heart racing as the scent of liquor overwhelmed her. She snapped back to herself and quickly pulled away, breath unsteady.

“Chi Wan, let me tell you a secret, okay? Do you know why I like Mingyu?”

As she spoke, her frosty expression softened into an almost radiant smile.

“Why?”

Chi Wan genuinely wanted to know. Of all Meng Lan’s past entanglements, she had always been the hardest to read. If she was finally willing to share, Chi Wan would listen.

“Because she was the first person who ever showed me kindness.”

For an instant, a piercing light flared in Meng Lan’s usually shadowed eyes.

“Everyone knows my family background is good, but no one knows that from the moment I was born, I lived under constant scolding and blame. My father despised me for being an Omega. He obsessed over having an Alpha heir through his mistresses—but his body gave out, and he couldn’t father children anymore.

My mother, meanwhile, was driven into depression. While she carried me, my father kept cheating. She was confined at home for bedrest and couldn’t confront his lovers. The bitterness ate her alive.

So I was born into an environment where I was never wanted, never once greeted with joy.”

Her voice dropped lower, threaded with pain.

“When I was six, I finally understood what death meant. I learned it could free me. I was almost… happy at the thought.”

Her eyes glazed over with memory.

“I stood by the lake that day, dreaming of escaping the darkness forever. But then—heaven sent me a light.”

Chi Wan instantly understood—it must have been Mingyu.

“The light that cut through my darkness… was her.”

“She was only three, wearing a puffy dress, bright and lively like a little sun. She grabbed my hand and pulled me to play with her. In that moment, I felt joy for the first time—and I decided to live, even if only for her.”

Meng Lan’s eyes grew deep, resolute. Chi Wan could tell she was speaking nothing but the truth.

“Does Mingyu know?” Chi Wan asked softly.

Meng Lan shook her head, her smile turning bitter. “She forgot. She forgot everything. She once promised we’d be best friends forever.”

Loneliness curved at the corners of her lips.

“Have you ever told her?”

Chi Wan’s tone implied that she should—memories could be rebuilt if shared.

“I mentioned it once, but she had no recollection. So I never brought it up again. In the end, the memory belonged only to me.”

Her throat tightened, eyes stinging as she let out a rough cough.

Chi Wan hesitated, then gently patted her back.

“This is the deepest secret I’ve kept in my heart. And the reason I’m telling you—”

Meng Lan straightened slowly, fixing Chi Wan with an unwavering gaze, as if trying to see into her very soul.

“—is because I don’t know why you’re here or what your true intentions are. But whatever they are, you must not hurt Mingyu. If you do, I will never forgive you.”

Chi Wan’s heart jolted. So this was Meng Lan’s real purpose.

She was far sharper than Chi Wan had imagined—keen enough to notice her changes, and perhaps even to suspect the source.

It had troubled her for so long that in the end, she had chosen to lay it all bare.

As her words faded, the waltz, too, drew to an end. It was time to change partners.