The Unlucky Alpha and Her Hard-to-Please Omega - Chapter 15

On Sunday night, Song Yi lay on her hotel bed, staring at her chat interface with Shen Yu. She was editing a message, one painstaking word at a time.

Shen Yu had asked to be notified on the day of the surgery; she wanted to go with her. But the closer the day came, the more chaotic Song Yi’s mind became. The thought of lying in that operating room while Shen Yu sat outside waiting caused waves of inexplicable unease to wash over her.

She had procrastinated until now. Strangely, Shen Yu had been unusually quiet these past few days as well. Aside from filming, they hadn’t exchanged a single word. It was as if they were both tacitly avoiding one another.

Finally, the time had come. Song Yi chose to text; she didn’t want Shen Yu to read the truth in her eyes if they spoke face-to-face.

She wanted to say something simple: “I’m going to have the abortion tomorrow, do you want to come?” But stating it so bluntly felt wrong. As she subconsciously stroked her lower abdomen, she deleted and retyped, unable to find the right tone. Suddenly, her phone rang.

“Hello, Sister Chen? It’s late, is something wrong?” Song Yi answered.

“Yi-yi, how’s the filming going? Is everything smooth?” Her manager, Chen Nian, sounded unusually cautious, even overly formal.

Song Yi paused, remembering their last conversation had ended on a bitter note. She had blown up at Chen Nian for being cast in the same project as Shen Yu, and Chen Nian had snapped back, calling her an “emotional Omega.” Song Yi had even made some harsh threats.

It hadn’t been that long since she joined the crew, but looking back, it felt like a lifetime ago. She couldn’t even understand why she’d been so angry—perhaps it was just the hormonal fluctuations of early pregnancy and the misery of morning sickness.

“Sister Chen, it’s going well. Everyone is great, and the Director is taking good care of me,” Song Yi said softly.

Adults don’t always need “I’m sorry” or “It’s okay.” Often, a softening of the voice is enough to signal a truce.

“Good, good. That’s good.” Chen Nian repeated the word three times. Song Yi grew suspicious; Chen Nian was never this tentative.

“What is it, Sister Chen? Did something happen?”

Chen Nian took a deep breath. “A little. I heard a rumor and wanted to tell you first. The Female General project hit another snag. It won’t be filming next year.”

“What… what do you mean? When will it film?”

“The year after next, at the earliest. It needs more work,” Chen Nian said somberly.

The Female General. This was the pillar that had supported Song Yi through her adolescence, the role she had dreamed of since her debut. She was willing to do it even if it was a low-budget web drama with no hope for awards. It was her obsession.

But strangely, her first reaction wasn’t disappointment. It was joy.

If The Female General wasn’t filming next year, did she really have to get rid of this child? One side of the scale had been emptied, and the other side crashed down so hard it made her eyes sting.

She realized in that moment just how much she didn’t want to let go.

“Yi-yi… don’t be too sad. These things happen. I’ll keep an eye out for similar scripts…” Chen Nian grew worried at the silence. She knew how much Song Yi had sacrificed, including working with Shen Yu, just to secure that role.

“Sister Chen,” Song Yi’s voice was hoarse, her throat aching. “I’m fine. Since the project is delayed… can I take a year or so off after I finish this movie?”

Her hands were shaking. Lingering Smoke would wrap in three or four months. After that, she would have all the time in the world to stay home and prepare for the birth. If Chen Nian agreed not to book her… what reason was left to go through with the surgery?

On the other end of the line, Chen Nian’s eyes softened. In three years, Song Yi had never asked for a break. Seeing her so “spiritless,” Chen Nian felt a pang of guilt.

“Of course. You’re long overdue for a rest. A change of pace will be good for you.”

The weight in Song Yi’s chest finally settled. There were no more excuses.

Song Yi felt like she was losing her mind. She was pregnant, and she was actually going to have the baby. She was going to halt a skyrocketing career to give birth to a child whose Alpha mother shared neither love nor marriage with her. And yet, she felt none of the panic she expected.

She had sworn to be an independent Omega, focused solely on her career. She had never even liked children. But now, her mind was occupied by a single thought: My child. A child who would carry her blood. A child who might look just like her.

She loved this child. She wanted it to live.

As soon as she hung up with Chen Nian, she called Tang Di.

“You said that expert once delivered a baby for an Omega with my condition, right?” Song Yi asked immediately.

“Yes,” Tang Di answered.

“Then, in her opinion… is there a chance I can give birth to this child?”

Tang Di was silent for two seconds. “Yes. Are you…?”

“Yes. I’ve changed my mind,” Song Yi said firmly. “I want to keep the baby.”

“You’ll suffer,” Tang Di warned. “It will be much harder for you than a normal Omega. Do you fully understand the cost of childbirth?”

Song Yi didn’t answer immediately. She closed her eyes and asked herself that question with absolute sincerity. Do I accept the cost?

Her heart gave a resounding Yes.

“I want to keep the child,” she repeated.

“Well, as it happens, that expert is right next to me. She wants to see you tomorrow anyway. She needs to assess your physical state in person.”

The next morning was Monday the day originally reserved for the surgery.

Shen Yu had stayed awake all night. As the first light of dawn broke, she still couldn’t believe it. Song Yi hadn’t told her. Song Yi had promised to tell her, but she hadn’t said a word.

If Shen Yu hadn’t overheard the conversation with the Director, she would have gone to the set like a fool, only to find out Song Yi was gone for a week. She would have missed the day her child was taken away.

How could Song Yi do this? This was her child, too!

Shen Yu stood by the window, peeking through a gap in the curtains, staring at the hotel entrance. She was clinging to a fading hope. Maybe Song Yi wasn’t hiding it; maybe the surgery was canceled and she would walk out and turn right toward the film set.

Suddenly, Song Yi appeared.

She turned left straight into the underground garage.

Shen Yu cursed, bolted out of her room, and lunged for the elevator. She had to catch her. She had to ask this oath-breaking Omega what she was afraid of. Was she afraid Shen Yu would stop her?

Ding.

The elevator hit the first floor. As the doors slid open, a cool morning mist drifted in. A young couple was checking in, holding the hand of their toddler daughter. The little girl wore a bracelet made of shells that jingled with every step.

Shen Yu’s heart hammered against her ribs.

That’s right, she realized. I don’t want her to do it. I don’t want this.

Why was she only realizing this now? There was no time for hesitation. She had to fight for her child.

Shen Yu sprinted.

At the garage exit, Song Yi’s car—windows covered in dark privacy film pulled out. She turned smoothly and accelerated. Her favorite folk song played through the speakers, and a message from Tang Di popped up on her phone asking how much longer she’d be.

“Song Yi!” “Stop!” “SONG YI!!!”

Shen Yu screamed at the top of her lungs.

Inside the car, the song reached the chorus a raspy, soulful voice singing an old story. Song Yi turned up the volume, savoring the immersion of the enclosed space.

“Song Yi! Are you deaf or blind?!” Shen Yu was frantic.

The car showed no sign of stopping. Desperate, Shen Yu watched the exhaust fumes and dialed Song Yi’s number with trembling hands. “Pick up! Pick up!”

The ringtone blended perfectly into the sorrowful chords of the song. Finally, with only seconds left before the call disconnected, Song Yi caught the movement on her screen out of the corner of her eye. Frowning, she slammed on the brakes and hit ‘Accept.’

“SONG YI!!!” Shen Yu’s voice cracked into a roar.

Song Yi jerked the phone away from her ear. She didn’t even need the speakerphone; Shen Yu was panting like a broken motorcycle.

Thump!

A hand slapped against Song Yi’s window. Shen Yu stood there, hair a mess, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

“Song Yi… you… you aren’t allowed to go…” Shen Yu’s eyes were bloodshot and brimming with tears.

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