The Stand-In Alpha Goes Viral on a Dating Show - Chapter 64

Under An Ran’s watchful care, Chi Wan slowly drifted into sleep. All of a sudden, she shivered, her eyelids trembling slightly, though she didn’t wake.

The movement startled An Ran. She quickly reached out to touch Chi Wan’s skin—it felt faintly cool. Regret pricked her heart. How could she have let Chi Wan fall asleep like this? She should have given her a blanket or draped something over her.

An Ran stood, picked up a thin throw, and was just about to cover her when Chi Wan abruptly sat up, looking startled and shaken.

“Did you have a nightmare?” An Ran asked.

Chi Wan stared blankly at her for a moment before shaking her head. “I don’t remember. Just… it felt terrifying.”

“Dreams usually mean the opposite. Don’t dwell on it.”

An Ran draped the blanket gently over her shoulders. Chi Wan took a deep breath. “Let’s hope so.”

—

After the commercial street segment wrapped up, the cast followed the production team’s arrangements and boarded another cruise ship. Word was that they would soon head for another country to experience its exotic charm.

The announcement left everyone both surprised and intrigued.

At the corner of her lips, Mingyu’s smile curved—subtle, but enough to make Qu Huan’s heart skip. Mingyu seemed to know something. Qu Huan almost asked, but instinct told her Mingyu wasn’t likely to share. Asking would only invite needless trouble. After a pause of hesitation, Qu Huan decided to stay silent.

Of course, Mingyu knew exactly where they were going—her biological father’s country. If she could be reunited with him in the middle of a live broadcast, in front of millions of viewers, it would be a powerful image. To her, it would also feel like a long-overdue victory.

Hadn’t some netizens mocked her during Chi Wan’s previous livestream, sneering that she didn’t resemble the Ming family at all? Now was the time to prove to them that the Ming family wasn’t good enough for her.

As for the possibility that her father might refuse to acknowledge her—Mingyu had never considered it. After all, Father Ming had always insisted that his desire to find his daughter had never wavered.

From the moment she boarded the ship, Mingyu had been filled with anticipation—until she happened to notice Su Yao and her companions, whose expressions seemed… off, as if they were plotting something.

She quietly asked Qu Huan to find out more. Qu Huan frowned, her delicate brows pinching together. “It seems to involve Chi Wan and An Ran. Beyond that, I couldn’t learn anything.”

—

That evening, the cruise ship hosted a number of activities. Guests were free to move about as they pleased. But after dinner, Chi Wan hadn’t seen An Ran anywhere. Now, searching the decks for her, she was abruptly stopped by someone blocking her way.

Looking up, she found herself face-to-face with Lu Xin.

Chi Wan was about to ask what she wanted when, just as the words were on her lips, she caught something strange in Lu Xin’s expression—an undercurrent of excitement, the kind that came from doing something underhanded and getting away with it.

Lu Xin noticed Chi Wan’s gaze lingering on her face. At first, she felt a flash of pride, thinking Chi Wan had finally noticed her beauty. But then she realized—Chi Wan’s eyes weren’t admiring, they were scrutinizing.

Her heart lurched. Hastily, she smoothed her expression, pressing her lips into a line. “Chi Wan, can’t we really start over?”

“…” Chi Wan was momentarily speechless. She hadn’t expected Lu Xin to bring this up again. With a sigh, she retorted, “Haven’t you ever heard the saying: spilled water can’t be gathered back?”

“I’ve heard it.” Lu Xin licked her lips and unconsciously stepped closer, closing in. “But haven’t you also heard of broken mirrors being made whole again?”

“That phrase doesn’t apply to us.” Chi Wan stepped back, shaking her head.

“You’re really heartless.” Lu Xin’s eyes narrowed, her breath turning rough with anger.

“It isn’t heartlessness,” Chi Wan said firmly, meeting her gaze head-on. “It’s clarity. Don’t forget—it was you who wronged me first.”

The original Chi Wan had already suffered too much. Only a fool would walk the same path twice.

“So what? You should give me a chance. A chance to make it up to you. You can’t just deny me outright, not even give me a chance—that, I absolutely cannot accept.”

Lu Xin’s steps grew heavier as she closed in on her.

“But what’s the point of repeating something when you already know the ending? Isn’t it just a waste of time?”

Chi Wan spread her hands, her tone resolute. There was no salvaging this. She urged Lu Xin to wake up and stop clinging to false hope.

“Then what about you and An Ran? Are you with her because you think you two will last?”

Lu Xin suddenly grew agitated. Her eyes widened, fists clenching tight. Before Chi Wan could reply, she blurted out, “You’re being deceived by An Ran! Do you really think she’s some saint? She’s nothing but a two-faced, fickle hypocrite!”

“Enough!” Chi Wan snapped, her voice rising as she pointed a trembling finger, though her tone carried unshakable authority. “Don’t you dare speak about her that way!”

“Oh? What’s this? Feeling protective of her now? Do you think I’m slandering her?”

Lu Xin laughed coldly. “I’m telling you the truth. You’ve been fooled by her innocent facade. You don’t know just how shameless she really is!”

“You’re insane.” Chi Wan could see how unhinged Lu Xin was—her whole body trembling in a neurotic frenzy. Chi Wan no longer wanted to argue; she just wanted to get away.

But Lu Xin stubbornly blocked her path.

“Lu Xin, I don’t have time for your nonsense! Move!”

Chi Wan’s own temper was beginning to flare. This woman was impossible to reason with.

“Move? So you can go running back to An Ran?”

Lu Xin spread her arms wide, her glare burning, mixed with something else darker and harder to name.

“Yes. And if you don’t move, don’t blame me for forcing my way through.”

Chi Wan could tell words were useless now. She braced herself to push past—but just then, Su Yao’s voice cut through.

“What’s going on here? Are you two arguing?”

Su Yao’s expression and tone seemed casual, oblivious—but Chi Wan felt a flicker of unease. Su Yao looked almost too prepared, as if she had been expecting this confrontation.

Her chest tightened. Something wasn’t right. For Lu Xin to appear first, and Su Yao to show up immediately after—wasn’t it all too convenient?

“Hmph! Chi Wan’s lost her mind, running around just to find An Ran. She doesn’t even realize I’m stopping her for her own good.”

Lu Xin huffed in annoyance.

Su Yao gave a perfectly timed look of surprise, even embarrassment, before turning to Chi Wan. “You’re looking for An Ran?”

“You know where she is?”

Chi Wan caught the flicker in Su Yao’s expression—it strongly suggested she knew more than she was saying.

“Uh…” Su Yao hesitated, stammering—so unlike her usual decisive self.

“It’s better if you don’t know.”

She sighed, her eyes carrying a strange note of pity.

The look only sharpened Chi Wan’s unease, her curiosity clawing higher. Something was definitely wrong. “What happened to An Ran?”

“She… she’s busy right now. I don’t think she wants to see you.”

Su Yao didn’t answer directly. Instead, she tried to deflect.

“Take me to her.”

Chi Wan instantly grabbed Su Yao’s sleeve, her brows knitting tightly together.

“But she’s really busy right now…” Su Yao’s breath faltered the moment Chi Wan’s fingertips brushed against her skin—because it had been a long time since Chi Wan had willingly touched her.

Her reply came out uneven, her voice carrying a faint stammer.

Frustrated, Su Yao bit her lip, about to rephrase, but Mo Wei cut in sharply:

“Since she wants to see An Ran, why keep hiding her?”

Chi Wan’s gaze shifted toward the corner where Mo Wei stood. Her voice carried suspicion:

“You know where An Ran is too?”

“She’s right there in the shadows of the deck—with another Alpha. You really want to go?”

Mo Wei lifted her chin, eyes gleaming with provocation. “Aren’t you afraid of interrupting her… fun?”

“What?”

For an instant, Chi Wan’s face went taut, startled by what Mo Wei implied. But almost immediately, she dismissed it as impossible. Knowing An Ran, she would never do something like that.

“You don’t believe it?” Mo Wei pressed. She had expected Chi Wan to look devastated, but instead she saw only disbelief. That disbelief made Lu Xin grind her teeth, jealousy flaring hotter.

“Believe it or not, she’s tangled up with that Alpha right now. On the deck, no less. Shameless!”

Lu Xin’s words dripped with scorn, spoken as if she was stating undeniable fact.

“I don’t believe it,” Chi Wan said firmly at last. “That is not An Ran.”

Her words struck a nerve. The three immediately tried to drag her forward, insisting she see with her own eyes.

“You don’t believe us? Then look for yourself!”

Lu Xin’s voice, sharpened by agitation, screeched like a saw against Chi Wan’s eardrums.

Su Yao’s grip grew rougher, nearly yanking her by the wrist.

Behind them, Mo Wei shoved at Chi Wan’s back, goading her with each push:

“So An Ran is that perfect in your heart? Then open your eyes and watch her disgrace yourself.”

Forced to the spot, Chi Wan squinted into the sudden darkness. Her eyes, not yet adjusted, closed for a moment against the blur.

“What’s this? You’ve been desperate to find her, and now that you’re close, you don’t dare look?”

Mo Wei took her closed eyes as weakness, pressing harder.

“Look! Even An Ran’s underwear is showing. Their movements are wild.”

Her descriptions grew filthier by the second.

But Chi Wan hardly needed them. The wet, obscene sounds and unrestrained cries carried clearly. Whoever was on the receiving end even sounded eerily like An Ran.

In the shadows, two figures were entwined, bodies moving in primal rhythm. Hidden by night, they gave themselves over with abandon—rising, falling, moaning, gasping, even trading crude whispers between panting breaths.

“Mm… deeper…”

Hands roamed. Voices husked with feverish laughter.

“Was An Ran this happy when she was with you too?”

Su Yao’s fingertip trailed along Chi Wan’s shoulder, her tone sly, her words poisonous: See? You never satisfied her like this. Maybe your so-called love wasn’t worth much at all.

But before her hand could wander further, Chi Wan clamped down hard on her wrist, halting her.

Su Yao didn’t get angry—she could feel the storm beneath Chi Wan’s restraint. Anyone would crumble, seeing their lover betray them.

And yet… even if Chi Wan looked for signs of drugging, An Ran’s response was all too conscious. Worse—she called out another person’s name.

It had nothing to do with Chi Wan.

From this night forward, even if Chi Wan forgave her, how could she ever love her without doubt again? Surely, they would break.

The two on deck, lost in frenzy, never noticed the four pairs of eyes fixed on them.

After a while, Lu Xin spoke, feigning pity:

“Chi Wan, let’s go. Better to see her true colors now than keep being deceived.”

“And then?”

Chi Wan’s sudden words were calm, almost cold—utterly lacking the outrage of a betrayed lover.

Lu Xin stiffened, unease creeping into her tone. “And then?”

“What else? Break up or don’t—your choice,” she tried to cover, her voice wobbly.

Su Yao nudged her, warning her not to lose composure.

“Yes, of course—it’s up to you.”

Chi Wan nodded, then her tone shifted, crisp as a blade:

“Since we’ve come this far, why don’t you tell me—where have you really hidden An Ran?”

“What?!”

Lu Xin’s breath hitched, panic bursting through. Even Su Yao and Mo Wei—usually composed—flinched in shock.

What was Chi Wan talking about? How did she see through it?

But no matter what, they couldn’t admit it.

“What nonsense. Real An Ran, fake An Ran—Chi Wan, I didn’t think you were this weak. Can’t even take the truth without breaking.” Mo Wei’s voice dripped with disdain, though the brief panic in her eyes betrayed her. Perhaps Chi Wan was only bluffing…

Su Yao quickly followed up, covering smoothly:

“Exactly. We understand you’re upset, but deceiving yourself won’t help.”

Lu Xin grabbed Chi Wan’s face and forced her to look at the shadows.

“Open your eyes and look! That is An Ran!”

Chi Wan only sneered.

“Stop playing games. She isn’t An Ran. You’ll never fool me.”

She stepped forward, her voice low, certain, almost mocking:

“Because as you well know, An Ran and I are close enough that I can recognize her every breath when she moved. That person is not her.”