The Unlucky Alpha and Her Hard-to-Please Omega - Chapter 12

Shen Yu spent a grueling hour in Song Yi’s dressing room undergoing a complete reconstruction of her worldview. The fact that she and Song Yi had shared a bed and conceived a life was a bombshell that blew her twenty years of basic common sense into stardust.

When she finally emerged from the room, looking utterly dazed, audible gasps rippled through the film set.

“God, she actually did it. That’s brutal.”

“My word… they say you shouldn’t hit the face, but Teacher Song really didn’t hold back.”

“Tsk, what a waste of Shen Yu’s face. I hope it’s not permanently damaged.”

“Isn’t Shen Yu an Alpha? She just stood there and let Song Yi hit her?”

“Look at her, though. She looks completely crushed.”

Everywhere Shen Yu walked, the whispers stopped abruptly. She couldn’t hear them clearly, which meant she couldn’t even defend herself.

“Shen Yu…” Wu Han started, then stopped with a sigh. “Sigh… I… I’m sorry.”

No one expected Song Yi to solve the conflict with Shen Yu so crudely and violently. By “eliminating” the person causing the problem, the problem itself was solved.

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Director Wu stepped forward with a look of deep pity, offering Shen Yu some “humanitarian concern.” This finally gave Shen Yu a chance to react. She asked, confused, “What do you all mean? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Director Wu pointed at his own face. Everything was understood in silence.

Shen Yu used her phone screen to take a look, and the sight was like a bolt from the blue. No one had ever dared to slap her so brazenly and she had been parading around with that humiliating handprint?

It was an utter disgrace, more painful to her heart than being beaten in a dark alley!

She instinctively glared toward Song Yi, but the moment their eyes met, Shen Yu remembered the child in Song Yi’s belly.

Someone like Song Yi was naturally incompatible with the word “sex.” A drunken mistake like that… common sense dictated it was entirely Shen Yu’s fault. Shen Yu even began to suspect she might have forced Song Yi that night.

After all, when she tried to recall the night now, the only images that surfaced were of her pinning the other woman to the bed and being relentless.

Thinking of it that way, the slap was justified. Shen Yu’s anger deflated instantly. It was just one slap; when she had acted out in her youth, her parents had disciplined her far more severely than this.

“I’ll go cover this up,” Shen Yu muttered.

Wu Han watched as Shen Yu transformed from a bristling cat to a submissive one in a single glance. She even went back to touch up her makeup without a single complaint, showing no sign of wanting to throw a tantrum or demand leave to nurse her face at the hotel.

Wu Han was stunned. He looked at Song Yi as if she were a world-class, ten-out-of-ten elite dog trainer.

Shen Yu sat perfectly still, being uncharacteristically well-behaved. Her makeup artist dabbed concealer onto the finger marks with the lightest touch, but even then, Shen Yu winced in pain at every contact. After thirty minutes of effort, the result was a face that looked only slightly asymmetrical from afar, but the makeup was so thick it would look terrifyingly eerie under a high-definition lens.

Ultimately, Shen Yu gave up. She wiped off the heavy, mask-like concealer and opted for a normal layer of makeup, deciding to use her hair and clever positioning to hide the mangled half of her face.

Since half the crew had already seen her plight, and the other half would hear a wildly exaggerated version anyway, there was no point in lying to herself.

“Let’s just shoot,” Shen Yu said, her voice weak.

The set for the next scene was already prepared. Yu Rong (Shen Yu) is a guest professor at a university, and Ran Mo (Song Yi) has been ordered to find her for a criminal psychological profile. She arrives just as Yu Rong is lecturing a class of undergraduates and stands at the back of the room, listening intently for half the period.

The scene wasn’t dialogue-heavy, and being a group scene, there were many ways to “cheat” the camera.

Director Wu shouted “Action!” and Ran Mo, dressed in a casual shirt, pushed open the back door of the classroom.

It was an elective course. The room was sparsely populated with students you could count on two hands. A couple in the back corner was flirting; two students in the middle were playing games with a sleeping student between them. Only the student in the front center was scribbling furiously in a notebook, following Yu Rong’s lead.

The classroom was empty enough that you could see the podium clearly from the back door.

Yu Rong leaned against the lectern, facing her slides on the large screen. The white light cast a soft glow on her profile, outlining her features with a gentle radiance.

Even with a new person in the room, Yu Rong seemed oblivious. She didn’t care if anyone was listening; she only wanted to share what she had prepared.

Years after graduating, this was Ran Mo’s first time back on a campus. She casually rolled up a sleeve that had slipped down her elbow and leaned against the back wall, tilting her head slightly to scrutinize the person on stage.

Yu Rong’s long, curly hair was loosely pinned up, with stray strands falling near her ears. Her neck was slender, her jawline exquisite.

Ran Mo’s lips curled into a smile. She found this Professor Yu’s lecture rather interesting.

Finally, the bell rang a sound identical to the one from Ran Mo’s school days. The students blinked their sleepy eyes and walked past Yu Rong, laughing and chatting. Yu Rong slowly packed her things at the podium until Ran Mo sauntered up to her.

“First Division, Ran Mo.” Ran Mo showed her ID. Yu Rong’s hands paused.

“Can I buy you a coffee?” Ran Mo smiled.

Yu Rong kept her head down, her hair obscuring her profile. She looked both helpless and gentle. “What do you need help with this time?”

“Cut!”

Shen Yu let out a long, weary sigh.

In this group scene, her and Song Yi’s screen time was supposed to be roughly equal. Originally, there were several close-ups planned for her face when Song Yi entered; Yu Rong was supposed to look indifferent but actually notice Ran Mo the second she walked in the “obliviousness” was all an act of playing hard to get.

Now, that was gone. All gone.

She spent the whole scene either in profile or with her head down. All she got were blurry wide shots. The lighting technician had worked overtime to blast her with light, trying to create an “ethereal glow” on her face so that Ran Mo’s later invitation would at least feel justified. On the monitor, it looked great, but for Shen Yu, she only had one thought:

Fill lights are freaking hot!

With her hair covering her face, wearing a sophisticated long dress and a knit cardigan, surrounded by reflectors and lights, she wasn’t even allowed to sweat.

It’s all Song Yi’s fault!

The moment the scene ended, Shen Yu tied her hair back and started chugging an iced soda. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Song Yi unscrew a brown-and-red thermos. Steam billowed out.

She was drinking hot water. The set had to be at least 30 degrees Celsius!

Shen Yu was initially dumbfounded, but then a spark of inspiration hit. A connection she had never made before suddenly clicked into place.

Song Yi is pregnant.

Song Yi loved coffee specifically, “purist” coffee. She viewed any fancy flavorings as heresy. She had once famously drunk so much straight espresso that she’d ended up in the school infirmary with heart palpitations. Since then, she only drank Iced Americanos, regardless of the season.

Shen Yu had once suspected Song Yi had a stomach made of iron, but now, Song Yi was dutifully drinking hot water.

Once that floodgate opened, details Shen Yu thought she hadn’t noticed came rushing back. For instance, Song Yi’s appetite had become terrible; if the crew’s catering was even slightly oily, she couldn’t eat. Or, while waiting for her scenes, she would frequently knit her brows as if suppressing discomfort.

Following this logic, Shen Yu even suspected that when Song Yi turned pale during scenes where Ran Mo enters a crime scene, it wasn’t a creative acting choice She was actually nauseous and wanted to throw up.

Song Yi was pregnant, and she was suffering through morning sickness. Shen Yu had witnessed her struggle several times and hadn’t suspected a thing. Shen Yu’s eyes softened; her heart was a mess of conflicting emotions.

Song Yi sensed the gaze and looked her way. Shen Yu scrambled to look away, losing the “staring contest” faster than she ever had before, her heart racing with guilt.

When filming ended for the day, Song Yi actually walked over to Shen Yu and said, “When you get back, roll a hard-boiled egg over those marks on your face.”

Shen Yu almost fell to her knees right then and there.

Song Yi was actually concerned about her. Under these circumstances, Song Yi’s concern made Shen Yu feel like an even bigger jerk.

Back at the hotel that night, Shen Yu locked herself in her room, dutifully rolling an egg over her face. Then, for the first time in her life, she secretly logged onto an Omega forum to “steal” some knowledge about pregnancy reactions.

“My luck is so bad. I’ve had morning sickness from the start until birth. I got to the point where I couldn’t even keep water down and had to go to the hospital for IV nutrients.”

“Sister, you just have the vomiting. I have that plus full-body edema in the second trimester. I have to wear shoes two sizes bigger. My back hurts, my legs are swollen, I can’t even walk.”

“In the end, it’s because the Alpha at home isn’t acting like a human. If two people face it together, it doesn’t feel so bitter. But doing it alone… no matter how strong you are, you can’t hold it up.”

“When I was pregnant, my Alpha ignored me. I was all alone. It was okay during the day when I was busy, but when night fell and the world went quiet, I just wanted to cry. I just wanted a hug, but they wouldn’t give me one.”

This last comment resonated with a whole thread of Omegas, all sending “hugs” in response. Shen Yu read it with a racing heart.

Song Yi’s morning sickness was also severe. She only knew that the daytime Song Yi could force herself to film—but was she also extra fragile in the quiet of the night?

In an instant, Shen Yu’s imagination conjured a scene of Song Yi clutching a blanket and weeping silently. For once, her empathy was in overdrive.

She stepped into her slippers and headed out. In the dim, yellowish light of the hotel corridor, her shadow stretched long. Shen Yu arrived at Song Yi’s door and hesitated, staring at the room number.

Song Yi needs a hug, Shen Yu thought.

She was just here to offer comfort. She was doing a good deed; it just happened that the recipient was Song Yi.

Shen Yu knocked. Song Yi opened the door, still damp and smelling of soap from a post-filming shower. The phrase “Do you need a hug?” died in Shen Yu’s throat.

Song Yi gave her a strange look.

“It’s late. Something wrong?”

“I’m not practicing lines. Go figure them out yourself.”

Song Yi started to close the door, but Shen Yu moved fast, jamming her foot in the way. Her mouth moved faster than her brain could invent a excuse.

“Don’t close it!  I want to see the baby.”

Song Yi stared at her with the horrified expression one reserves for a pervert. Shen Yu immediately regretted her life choices, mentally biting her own tongue.

Dammit! What a terrible excuse!

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