The Stand-In Alpha Goes Viral on a Dating Show - Chapter 80.3 (END)
It was too strange, too unbelievable!
“Sis, don’t tell me you’ve been possessed!” Qin gasped, sucking in a sharp breath.
“What demon dares take over my best friend’s body? Watch me perform a ritual and banish you!”
Right then, Qin struck a bizarre pose, palms up as though holding some kind of mystical talisman.
The posture was so ridiculous that Chi Wan couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
“Oh, so you’re laughing at me now?!” Qin huffed, instantly pouncing on her. The two tumbled together in a mock scuffle.
“Take this—tickle attack! Let’s see if you still dare laugh at me! You ungrateful thing, I’m only doing this for your sake!”
Pinned beneath her friend, Chi Wan tilted her head back and laughed, her long, narrow eyes curling at the corners like tiny hooks.
Good heavens. When did Chi Wan become this… alluring?
Qin’s face burned. Thank goodness I’m straight as steel—otherwise I’d probably be bent right here and now.
She rubbed her cheeks and muttered a rabbit doesn’t eat the grass by its burrow several times before finally forcing down the strange flutter in her chest.
That comment about possession might have been a joke, but the more she thought about it, the more it seemed plausible. What started as a gag was turning serious—she was really about to drag Chi Wan to a Taoist temple to get an exorcism charm!
“I don’t want to go,” Chi Wan protested, convinced Qin was being ridiculous.
“Come on, just for peace of mind. Humor me.”
Under her friend’s relentless nagging, Chi Wan had no choice but to give in.
“Our temple has, besides everything else, a thousand-year-old Matchmaking Tree,” Qin explained proudly.
“It’s said to be incredibly effective! As long as you stand beneath it and make a sincere wish, anything related to love is guaranteed to come true!”
Really? Listening to her friend’s mystical pitch, Chi Wan’s heart gave an involuntary stir.
Then… let me pray sincerely. Please, let me see her again.
She closed her eyes. For a moment, whether it was pure belief or something beyond comprehension, she felt as though she had stepped into a mysterious, otherworldly state.
From a distance, Qin rolled her eyes. And who was it that swore she didn’t want to come? Now look at her, more devout than anyone else!
Well, if gods truly exist, then please, grant her wish.
When Chi Wan finished praying and opened her eyes again, beneath the lush, flowering Matchmaking Tree stood a slender figure.
That woman was smiling at her.
The sky was clear and bright, and her beloved’s smile was radiant.
In that instant, Chi Wan’s eyes brimmed with tears. She reached out with trembling fingertips, tracing the outline of her lover’s face in the air. As her finger slipped past the illusion, she found herself smiling through her tears.
“An Ran… it really has been so long.”
【Wow! Host, you finally remembered!】
The moment those two syllables, An Ran, escaped her lips, it was as if a seal had been broken—allowing the system to reappear.
The system was overcome with emotion. At last, its host had remembered. All its effort projecting An Ran’s phantom image into the human world had not been in vain.
Though a year had passed, Chi Wan had finally recalled everything.
“System!” Chi Wan gasped, her heart surging with excitement. The system’s appearance meant she could go back.
She had broken her promise for far too long. She had lived in this world for a year already, but who knew how much time had passed in the other?
She dared not imagine how An Ran must have felt, waiting in vain.
All she wanted now was to return immediately, to give An Ran the biggest embrace, to soothe her wounded heart with a lifetime of companionship.
【Please prepare yourself, Host. I’ll send you over right away.】
【And one more bit of good news! Since you’ve successfully completed your mission, you’ve been granted a reward—the right to travel freely between both worlds.】
Now you can take An Ran home to meet your parents!
The system’s surprise left Chi Wan overwhelmed with joy. Before she could fully process it, her feet were already back on solid ground.
She remembered clearly: when she had left, it was the height of summer.
Now, too, the greenery was lush—it was still midsummer.
But… how many years had gone by?
Looking at the weeds stretching across the land, Chi Wan felt lost. “Where’s An Ran? Why did you send me to some desolate wilderness?”
The system explained that this was the closest point to An Ran. She would have to be patient and search.
Chi Wan frowned. Closest to An Ran? But isn’t she the Ming family’s treasured daughter? Why would she be out here?
Still, speculation was useless. What mattered was finding her. As she cautiously made her way forward, she also glanced down at her body.
Something felt different—this wasn’t her body from the original world.
Sensing her doubts, the system quickly clarified: this was her body from the book world. It had preserved it in system space, and after long nourishment, all her injuries had healed.
The system hadn’t said this to boast, but Chi Wan was deeply grateful nonetheless.
Without the system, she would never have had this reunion.
She had to find An Ran, and quickly.
But in this barren place, where should she even begin? She was about to ask the system if it had a tracking function when—
【Oh no!】 The system shrieked. 【I’ve detected overwhelming negative emotions from An Ran. Something terrible is about to happen!】
Something terrible? Chi Wan’s heart nearly stopped. After pressing for answers, she learned that five years had passed in this world.
Five years. After five years of hopeless waiting, An Ran had ended up here, in this desolate place. Could it be… she had lost all hope?
Panic-stricken, Chi Wan sprinted off. If she was even a step too late, the consequences would be unbearable.
At the same time, in another inconspicuous corner—
In a darkened room, Lu Xin and the others slowly woke up, momentarily thinking they had been kidnapped again.
The trauma from years ago was too deep; they trembled uncontrollably, huddling close for courage.
Over the years, their careers had been almost entirely ruined by that crazy woman An Ran.
They hated her, but there was nothing they could do. After all, behind An Ran stood the entire Ming family—and half the Chi family as well.
Rumor had it that before Chi Wan disappeared, she left a letter to Chi Feng, asking her to take good care of An Ran. Chi Feng, who had only one precious daughter, naturally agreed.
But in Lu Xin and the others’ eyes, how could that be possible? At the time Chi Wan vanished, she hadn’t even known her true identity. So why would she leave a letter to Chi Feng? It made no sense at all.
Back then, Chi Feng had publicly acknowledged Mingyu as her daughter, not Chi Wan.
The more they thought about it, the more convinced they became that the letter was forged by An Ran!
And what was even more chilling—An Ran was the last person to see Chi Wan before she disappeared. So had Chi Wan really gone missing… or had An Ran harmed her?
Somehow, An Ran had bewitched Director Chi. No matter what they said, Chi Feng refused to believe them, choosing instead to trust An Ran blindly.
Forced into desperation, Lu Xin and the others could only continue in misery until the careers they had spent years building crumbled into nothing.
Over the years, they had sent countless substitutes to An Ran. Yet no matter how closely those substitutes resembled Chi Wan, An Ran would recognize the difference at first glance every single time.
They couldn’t understand it. Chi Wan’s departure had plunged An Ran into unbearable pain—so why wouldn’t she allow herself the comfort of illusion? Why insist on living in the torment of reality?
What infuriated them most was that An Ran chose suffering for herself, and then inflicted that same suffering on them.
Now, one by one, they had all become losers.
But why was there still someone who refused to let them go?
If they were still the powerful, successful people of the past, a kidnapping might have made sense. But now? They were barely a step above destitution. Who would bother to scheme against them now? It was incomprehensible.
As Lu Xin and Su Yao secretly speculated about who the mastermind could be, the heavy door creaked open from the outside.
Tap, tap, tap—measured, rhythmic footsteps echoed closer. They all turned toward the entrance, and soon, a figure appeared before them.
That silhouette—they would recognize it even if it had turned to ashes.
An Ran?!
“You’re insane!”
The women screamed hysterically, their voices shrill with terror. Compared to this, even their earlier kidnapping seemed less frightening. The woman before them was utterly mad.
“She won’t come back! She’s already dead!”
Again and again, they shouted the words, desperate to jolt An Ran back to reason. But it was all in vain.
“Shut up. She will come back.”
“What are you so afraid of?”
An Ran’s lips curved into a smile, but her eyes remained devoid of warmth. Beneath the depths of her gaze lay unspeakable sorrow—and the faint glimmer of madness.
She was like a caged beast, moments away from breaking free. She wanted nothing more than to lose her mind completely, to throw everything away, and go find her.
Lu Xin and the others trembled in silence. They finally understood—An Ran wasn’t unaware of Chi Wan’s death. She was deliberately lying to herself. And just like someone feigning sleep, no amount of shouting could ever wake her.
So, all that remained to them now was begging.
“An Ran, haven’t you ruined us enough already?”
“We’ve lost everything, our reputations are destroyed—there’s nothing left for us anymore.”
“Even so, you still won’t let us go? Must you drive us to the very edge of death?”
At their pleas, An Ran suddenly laughed, the sound bleak and bitter.
“And did you let her go back then?”
The memories struck like knives. If Chi Wan had been spared just a few wounds, shed a little less blood, maybe things would not have ended as they did.
No one could ever comprehend the grief and despair that consumed An Ran. As time passed, she began to doubt her own memories. Everything about Chi Wan in those final moments grew hazy.
Was Chi Wan truly dead?
If not—if she had simply returned to her original world—why hadn’t she come back? Was it because she didn’t want to?
It had been far, far too long. Long enough for oceans to turn into fields.
But no matter the reason, the truth remained: Chi Wan hadn’t returned. Either she was truly gone forever, or she had chosen not to return. And either possibility was enough to drive An Ran mad.
Again and again, she found herself wondering what meaning life held anymore—wouldn’t it be better just to end it?
Yet each time, when she was about to take that final step, she pulled back at the last moment.
She couldn’t die. What if Chi Wan did come back? She had promised to wait for her, obediently, faithfully.
How could she break her word?
All these years, she had survived on nothing but that obsession—the certainty that Chi Wan would come back.
But the waiting gnawed away at time, and at her sanity. She was on the verge of collapse.
So she found another way to endure: by turning her rage on Chi Wan’s exes—the very ones who had hurt her, who had left her bleeding.
She would never let them go. Today, she would settle all accounts—even debts carried from her past life.
If Lu Xin and the others had clung to a shred of hope before, that hope now vanished. An Ran wasn’t bluffing—she truly intended to kill them.
And if not death, then a fate far worse.
Just as the moment reached a breaking point, hurried footsteps echoed from outside.
From the sound, it was only one person.
An Ran frowned. Who had managed to find this place?
But to Lu Xin and the others, that lone set of footsteps was like divine music.
Someone had come! That meant there was hope.
The footsteps drew closer, and with a sudden pull, the door burst open. Sunlight streamed in behind the newcomer, dazzling An Ran’s eyes.
Her heart pounded wildly. Though the face was blurred in the light, that figure—she knew it as well as her own. A silhouette that had haunted her dreams every night.
She had missed her too long. So long that now, faced with her sudden return, she felt a tremor of fear, like a traveler finally approaching home.
“An Ran, why are you just standing there? I’ve come back.”
Chi Wan swept her gaze across the room, instantly grasping the situation.
Thankfully, she had arrived in time. In time to stop this.
But for now, nothing mattered more than holding her long-lost lover.
It felt like a dream. The Chi Wan she had yearned for suddenly appeared before her, bathed in sunlight, like a deity descending to earth.
An Ran’s heart raced; her head spun faintly. She heard herself whisper:
“This isn’t a dream… is it?”
“No dream.”
Chi Wan’s voice rang firm as she opened her arms, half-teasing:
“If you won’t come to me, then I’ll just have to come to you.”
Step by step, she drew closer. Tears blurred An Ran’s vision, spilling down like a flood. The next thing she knew, she was running forward.
She threw herself into Chi Wan’s arms, laughing and sobbing all at once, pouring out years of suffocated grief and resentment.
“I’m back. Don’t do anything foolish—I’ll stay by your side.”
Chi Wan glanced meaningfully at Lu Xin and the others before leaning in to whisper in An Ran’s ear.
An Ran froze, then tilted her head up. With reddened nose and tear-streaked cheeks, she broke into a smile.
“Alright. But you have to stay with me for life. As long as you’re here, I’ll listen to whatever you say.”
“Mhm. All these years apart—I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too. Missed you desperately.”
“I love you.”
“I’ll love you forever.”
【The End】