The Stand-In Alpha Goes Viral on a Dating Show - Chapter 59

They were actually this intimate in private…

Mo Wei burned with jealousy, her nails digging deep into her palm. This wasn’t some staged act—it was real.

Had they… slept together?

She scrutinized An Ran’s expression: cheeks flushed pink, eyes hazy with damp shimmer. But her neck and collarbone bore no marks. Perhaps it was nothing more than a bath.

In front of the livestream screen, it wasn’t just Mo Wei watching. Lu Xin, Su Yao, Ruan Xiao, Chu Rou, Meng Lan—several of Chi Wan’s exes—were all secretly peeking in as well. Unlike Mo Wei, most of them had even sent small gifts here and there.

Their moods were roughly the same: they never expected Chi Wan and An Ran to actually get this real.

—— I don’t think this looks like a post-bed shower. Chi Wan’s dress is clearly the same one she’s been wearing all day, not something freshly changed.

That one comment instantly put out the smoldering flames in Su Yao and the others’ chests.

Right. If they had really done it, why would Chi Wan still be in her old clothes? She didn’t look like she’d showered at all.

So… only An Ran bathed? Then how to explain the dampness on Chi Wan’s body—did she help An Ran wash?

No… maybe just splashed herself while washing her face?

“If I catch a cold, it’ll be because the water you ran wasn’t warm enough.”

An Ran pouted, visibly displeased. But to the netizens, this was the first time they’d ever seen her show such a lively, vivid expression, and they were briefly stunned.

—— Wait, doesn’t An Ran look a little like someone from the Ming family?

—— Mingyu? No way, An Ran doesn’t look like her at all. If anything, Chi Wan… emmm…

—— I’m not talking about Mingyu—I mean President Ming!

That set off a wave of curiosity. Many quickly dug up President Ming’s photos. One look, then another—side by side, the resemblance only grew stronger.

—— Whispering here, but I heard people in high society have already gossiped about Mingyu’s looks before.

—— And how do you know that? You in high society? Rumors aren’t reliable!

—— Yeah, President Ming dotes on Mingyu—always has!

Fans of Mingyu instantly bristled. They thought this was clearly an underhanded jab, a way of casting doubt on Mingyu.

—— Please, just leave Mingyu alone! She’s already been slandered so much—have some kindness!

—— You’re all overthinking. We only said An Ran looks similar—we never said anything else!

Of course, Su Yao and Lu Xin saw it too. No matter what, Mingyu was someone they had adored for years. Their hearts soured. They immediately jumped in: “An Ran could never compare to Mingyu.”

Even Chi Wan, in their minds, couldn’t compare. Though emotionally they leaned toward Chi Wan now, rationally speaking—in every measurable way—Chi Wan still fell short of Mingyu.

The livestream chat was getting more chaotic by the second, arguments flying as more people dragged An Ran into comparisons with Mingyu. Annoyed beyond patience, Chi Wan abruptly shut down the stream. Before logging off, her voice cut cold and sharp:

“There’s nothing to compare. An Ran is An Ran—the one and only in this world.”

And then the broadcast ended.

“You’re upset?” An Ran sat perched on her lap, cupping her face gently.

“Of course I’m upset. A perfectly good stream, turned into a mess—and they just had to bring up Mingyu!”

The original host’s miserable fate had a lot to do with the exes, yes—but Mingyu’s shadow loomed heavily too.

Their joint betrayals had all, in some way, tied back to Mingyu. Chi Wan had long suspected that Mingyu was the real mastermind behind it all.

But without proof, what could she do? Evidence or no, the original host had already ended up in tragedy.

“Why do you dislike Mingyu so much?”

An Ran lowered her eyes, her expression clouded. Was it because Chi Wan still harbored feelings for Su Yao and the others?

Or was it because they had once used her as Mingyu’s stand-in—that the wound festered still?

“I just think she’s not simple. Very calculating,” Chi Wan admitted frankly, not bothering to hide. “I’ll acknowledge there’s that stand-in factor from my exes, yes—but I also genuinely feel Mingyu is hostile toward me.”

She hesitated a moment, then leaned in by An Ran’s ear.

“And also…”

Chi Wan bit her lip, embarrassed. “I can’t shake the feeling she wants to harm me.”

She knew how paranoid that sounded—but the sense was real.

Her eyes drifted, then suddenly froze at the inside of An Ran’s bathrobe collar. The faint pink flush there…

Realizing what it was, Chi Wan’s cheeks blazed scarlet. Her arms slackened around An Ran as it dawned on her—An Ran was completely bare beneath the robe!

Startled, Chi Wan shifted her knees—and immediately heard An Ran’s soft gasp. That sound was shy, surprised, tinged with a delicate reprimand.

“Chi Wan, why are you moving around like that?”

“I—I…” Chi Wan finally realized where she had just pressed against. Words tangled on her tongue, leaving her stammering and incoherent.

“Don’t move. What are you shaking for? Do I look like some monster that’s going to eat you?”

An Ran teased lightly, looping her arms around Chi Wan’s shoulders and hugging her close. “You have to love me forever.”

Her voice suddenly brimmed with insecurity. Chi Wan caught the faint quiver at the end of her words. Holding her tightly, she answered like an oath, solemn and tender:

“Mm. I will.”

“Don’t ever lie to me. If you do, I’ll be heartbroken.”

Her muffled voice carried a hidden shadow of threat: If I’m heartbroken, you won’t escape unscathed either… I’ll cling to you, until the very end of life.

Chi Wan couldn’t quite figure out why An Ran’s mood had suddenly dipped, but she guessed it had something to do with the comments mentioning Mingyu earlier. So, she gently smoothed An Ran’s hair and patiently tried to comfort her.

Meanwhile, on Mingyu’s side, her best friend had wasted no time telling her about the commotion in Chi Wan’s comment section.

Mingyu scrolled through a few of the comments, then sneered. So what if netizens say she doesn’t look like him? As long as Father acknowledges me, that’s all that matters.

But An Ran looking like Father? Impossible. Must’ve just been the camera angles. Those few days on the show, why hadn’t she noticed such a resemblance before?

Netizens really did let their imaginations run wild.

“Mingyu, you’re not even angry?” her best friend asked softly, actually waiting for Mingyu to lose her temper. Because in the past, anyone daring to bring up her looks would always end up in a fight with her.

Her appearance had always been a thorn in Mingyu’s side. Her friend still remembered that, once upon a time, Mingyu had even considered cosmetic surgery.

But this time, she was destined for disappointment. Mingyu’s mindset was surprisingly calm, even relaxed. Aside from the brief frown when she first saw the comments, she didn’t seem bothered at all.

“Why would I be angry? People have been repeating the same thing for years now. Year after year, month after month—can’t they come up with something new?”

With that, Mingyu tossed her phone aside and let her lips curl into a smile. “I’ve got more important things to worry about.”

“What things?” Her friend blinked, taken aback. She herself had once secretly thought about arranging a paternity test for Mingyu. But nearly every hospital was in some way tied to the Ming family, and besides, Father Ming had long been aware of the rumors. Yet he’d never wavered in his favor, showering Mingyu with affection.

Gradually, her friend gave up the idea. After all, who said children had to resemble their parents? There were always exceptions.

And whenever this topic came up, Mingyu would be hopping mad—seeing her in that state had been enough for her friend to feel balanced.

But now, watching Mingyu look so composed and self-satisfied, she suddenly felt a rising discomfort in her chest, convinced Mingyu was hiding something from her.

Sure enough, Mingyu only gave her a faint smile and said, “That’s a secret. None of your business, so don’t ask.”

Her friend gave a small “oh.” Typical Mingyu. She always called her a bestie, but in truth, she treated her more like a pet—playful and affectionate when she had patience, cold and dismissive when she didn’t.

Leaning back into the sofa, Mingyu recalled what her father had told her:

Your biological father is returning to the country soon. His business is vast and successful. I’ll arrange for you to meet him when the time is right. I’ve heard that all these years, he’s been quietly looking for you, but for certain reasons he couldn’t make it public. I believe that when he sees you, he’ll be overjoyed.

It was for this long-awaited meeting that Mingyu had been polishing her image so carefully. How could she possibly be bothered by the petty drama in a comment section?

Once she returned to her biological father’s side, even the current Ming family would have to look up to her. By then, what would she have to worry about?

Nothing at all.

Her friend could only watch as Mingyu’s lips curved into a triumphant smile, feeling more and more certain that Mingyu was keeping something monumental hidden from her.

Back with Chi Wan—after she and An Ran had quietly held each other for a few minutes, Chi Wan suddenly felt movement in her pocket. The moment she remembered the piece of fabric tucked inside, her heart skipped a beat.

An Ran hadn’t forgotten? Just how much did she remember?

Don’t worry, host. The panties are gone. You’ve already submitted them.

The system’s voice rang in her mind.

Chi Wan let out a startled “Really?”

Of course, one hundred percent. But now you’d better start thinking—what if An Ran insists on finding the ones she changed out of? What then?

Her heart, which had just settled, leapt into her throat again. Testing the waters, Chi Wan muttered: What if I just say I tossed them in the trash and housekeeping cleared them out?

The system was dumbfounded. Do you really think that’ll work? You’re treating An Ran like an idiot! Only the panties vanished. The rest of the trash is still there—including the bra on the bed!

Then… if they both disappeared together, that would be believable, right? Chi Wan said uncertainly.

And how exactly are you going to make both disappear? the system shot back.

By now, An Ran’s fingers had already searched one pocket and found nothing, then moved to the other. Her puzzled voice rang out: “Huh? I remember it was here. Why can’t I find it?”

System, help me! In her desperation, Chi Wan could only cling to the system for hope.

I can help, sure—but you’ll owe me an emergency mission. And don’t you dare call it perverted when I issue it later.

The system grumbled its agreement but made its warning clear.

Chi Wan had no other choice, though the thought of that “emergency mission” left her with an ominous feeling.

Don’t tell me it’s going to be another panty-stealing task…

“You’re looking for something? That cloth was damp, and along with your other clothes, I threw it out. Housekeeping happened to come by, so they cleared it all away.”

Chi Wan lied without batting an eye, though the excuse—that she would toss something just because it was wet—didn’t fit her usual behavior at all.

An Ran’s eyes widened. “You threw it out? Why?”