The Unlucky Alpha and Her Hard-to-Please Omega - Chapter 6

Under Song Yi’s mocking gaze, Shen Yu dejectedly began her second take.

On screen, Ran Mo approached with her gun drawn. Yu Rong tilted her head slightly, her eyes flashing with a stubborn, haughty pride. To have reached this dead end everything had been her choice.

Yu Rong opened her arms in a gesture as natural as a lover’s embrace. Her gaze was like a web, ensnaring Ran Mo, enticing yet coercive, as she watched the other woman step closer.

“You don’t look very happy,” Yu Rong said.

She was a psychiatrist by trade. Having provided Ran Mo with psychological counseling for over six months, Ran Mo had grown accustomed to her professional, compassionate tone. She was used to closing her eyes, emptying her mind, and pouring out all her troubles to this woman.

Had it been a week ago, Ran Mo would have leaned against Yu Rong’s shoulder, greedily inhaling the intoxicating scent of lavender that clung to her.

But now…

Ran Mo tightened her grip on the gun and said sharply, “You can’t run anymore.”

Her backup was currently roaring through the previous intersection. In less than three minutes, the reinforcements would swarm this rooftop. It would all be over.

Ignoring Ran Mo’s threats, Yu Rong took a calm step forward. She watched Ran Mo’s finger twitch neurotically against the trigger, though she didn’t dare pull it.

Yu Rong smiled. With her crimson lips and ink-black hair, she remained breathtakingly radiant.

“That little assistant of yours… when she died, she was clutching your communicator so tightly I couldn’t pry her fingers open. I had to cut the hand off. I imagine you must have received her distress signal.”

“She was quite cute. I noticed she’d set a pink peach background on her device it looked delicious, so I fed it to her.”

“When you found her, she must have looked very satisfied, didn’t she?” Yu Rong spoke in the most casual, breezy tone, as if describing a trivial errand.

Ran Mo’s face contorted in agony. She remembered that afternoon when she and her colleagues had cut through the iron grate of the sewer outlet to retrieve the assistant’s body. That young, beauty-conscious girl who was always talking about dieting had been bloated and unrecognizable from the wastewater. The forensic pathologist said they found the communicator in her stomach.

“CUT!”

“Song Yi, that look of revulsion is excellent! Shen Yu—you’re not being twisted enough!” Director Wu barked.

Director Wu hopped down from his chair and paced around Shen Yu, muttering to himself, “What’s going on? You’re usually great at playing the ‘crazy beauty’ type. Your head isn’t in the game today.”

Shen Yu lowered her head and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Director. I think I need a moment to adjust.”

“How long?”

Shen Yu glanced at Song Yi, who was resting on the sidelines. “Five minutes.”

Director Wu waved a hand. “Fine. Everyone, five-minute break!”

Shen Yu stood in place for thirty seconds, scuffing her feet against the ground as she tried to pull herself together. She had to pass this hurdle today, or her professional life and perhaps her actual life might come to an end. Taking a deep breath, she walked toward Song Yi with the grim determination of someone heading to the gallows.

Song Yi was sitting on a small folding stool, unscrewing her thermos. She frowned slightly as she took tiny sips of an iced Americano packed with cubes.

“Um, Song Yi…” Shen Yu began tentatively.

“What were you doing on the night of the 8th last month?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Shen Yu wanted to bite her tongue. She had intended to avoid revealing her own “situation” from that night by taking the initiative and making Song Yi speak first. But the 8th of last month was the night of the awards ceremony; Shen Yu had even watched the livestream.

Song Yi looked up at her in surprise, clearly marking her as a fool once again.

Song Yi slowly screwed the cap back onto her thermos. In those crucial few seconds, she deduced a heart-stopping fact from Shen Yu’s words.

Shen Yu… doesn’t seem to remember what happened that night.

When Song Yi had left that morning, Shen Yu was still passed out from a hangover. By the time Shen Yu opened her eyes, Song Yi was long gone. Song Yi had heard that some people “black out” when they drink, forgetting everything that happened while they were intoxicated. But for Shen Yu to have that exact constitution… could the world really be that coincidental?

But if she did have any memory of it, she wouldn’t be asking this. During the first half of that night, Song Yi had been clapping for others at an awards ceremony; during the second half, she’d been “clapping” with Shen Yu at a hotel. Shen Yu should have known better than anyone.

Song Yi decided to test the waters.

She set her thermos down and looked up with a thin smile. “I had a terrible run of luck that day. First, I went home empty-handed from the awards. Then, on my way back after dinner with the crew, I got bitten by a dog. My neck was so swollen I had to get a rabies shot in the middle of the night.”

Song Yi finished and stared at Shen Yu, watching her expression. One second… two seconds…

Shen Yu’s face visibly cleared, shifting from cloudy to bright.

“Oh! Wow, that’s awful. How big was the dog to reach your neck? Do you have a photo?” Shen Yu let out a massive sigh of relief. Her features became animated instantly, and she even looked a bit smug.

Song Yi: “No.”

Shen Yu: “What a shame.”

“Yes, a real shame,” Song Yi muttered, watching Shen Yu walk away with a literal spring in her step.

She hadn’t expected Shen Yu to truly forget. This meant no one in the world would ever know about Song Yi’s humiliating “history.” She didn’t have to worry about Shen Yu blabbing or using it to mock her.

If there was no memory involved, what was the difference between Shen Yu and a warm, human-shaped toy?

Perfect.

“Director, I’m ready! I’ve found the feeling!” The five-minute break wasn’t even up before Shen Yu ran back to Director Wu. The nail that had been driven into her heart was gone; she was miraculously cured.

So what if she’d been slept with by some random stray Omega? As long as it wasn’t Song Yi, she didn’t care who it was.

“Take three! Action!”

Shen Yu’s Yu Rong gave a brilliant smile. The gale whipped her black hair as her exquisite red lips curled into a curve that was both elegant and cruel.

“That little assistant of yours… she was clutching your communicator so tightly I had to cut the hand off. I imagine you must have received her signal.” Yu Rong narrowed her eyes like a lazy cat basking in the sun, savoring the sudden flash of agony on Ran Mo’s face.

“She was cute. Her communicator had a little peach background… I fed it to her.”

Ran Mo seemed to recall something—or perhaps she felt it viscerally. Her delicate face contorted.

“When you found her, she must have looked very satisfied, didn’t she?” Yu Rong’s voice was breezy, as if it were a casual anecdote.

Yu Rong stepped forward like a venomous snake flicking its tongue. She knew her long-term patient too well; she could dismantle Ran Mo’s psychological defenses with just a few words.

“Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!” Ran Mo was clearly spiraling into panic.

Unlike the grizzled veterans of the criminal police force, Ran Mo was a textbook academic. She had gone straight from university to the High Court. If this case hadn’t been so difficult, she never would have been seconded to the front lines.

Pretentious, fragile, and in need of regular counseling she was like an expensive imported strawberry in a supermarket gift box, unable to handle the slightest bruise.

“Will you? Have you ever even fired a gun?” Yu Rong kept walking.

The cold muzzle of the gun pressed against Yu Rong’s chest. Ran Mo, the coward, actually tried to shrink back. Yu Rong grabbed the barrel and slammed it against her own forehead.

“Shoot. Right here. Pull the trigger and it all ends.” Yu Rong stared into Ran Mo’s eyes, her voice almost a coaxing whisper.

Ran Mo trembled, shaking her head minutely, her entire body resisting.

“SHOOT!” Yu Rong suddenly screamed, looking every bit the madwoman.

The truth was, she had gone mad long ago.

She had taken over a dozen psychology courses. She held two Master’s degrees and a PhD. Her name was on the cover of the latest textbooks. She gave keynote reports at psychological conventions.

She knew better than anyone exactly what was wrong with her. She was sanely, lucidly insane.

“SHOOT! SHOOT! SHOOT!” Yu Rong gripped the barrel, forcing it against her brow. “Are you afraid?”

“Do you know who killed those people? Why didn’t you save your assistant? Why didn’t you see the clues I left? Who recommended me to the police for the criminal profile? Who leaked every police move to me?”

“Ran Mo, haven’t you realized? Deep down… you want to become me.”

BANG!

A sharp gunshot rang out. The strength gripping Ran Mo vanished. She stared in shock at the wisp of smoke rising from the barrel. The woman opposite her collapsed backward.

It was her finger that had pulled the trigger. And in that final moment, Yu Rong had flashed the smile of a victor.

“CUT!”

“Perfect!” Director Wu jumped from his chair, his face flushed with excitement.

“Shen Yu, you’ve got it! Why didn’t you act like that earlier? Where was this energy before?”

Shen Yu shrugged. “I’ve always got it. I’m just a bit moody. Once the vibe hits, there’s no stopping me.”

Director Wu marveled, leaning over the monitor to replay the scene. It was a perfect long take; Shen Yu’s performance had been explosive.

“Alright, everyone! Let’s get a few more pickups and call it a day!”

This version focused on extreme close-ups. The lens was practically in the actors’ faces, requiring total immersion the “actor’s conviction.”

This scene was the grand finale for Shen Yu’s Yu Rong, an emotional eruption. By comparison, Song Yi’s Ran Mo was almost a backdrop. Song Yi had studied her character for a long time, and her visceral reactions the gagging at Yu Rong’s words were instinctive. It should have been easy to play the weak, sickly Ran Mo. But standing across from a “dialed-in” Shen Yu, she felt an overwhelming pressure.

In this scene, Shen Yu had dominated her. Song Yi felt she hadn’t quite “caught” the energy Shen Yu was throwing, a feeling that intensified as she watched Shen Yu’s close-ups.

“Alright, wrap it up!” the director announced, satisfied.

Song Yi was not satisfied.

She watched as Shen Yu immediately dropped the character the moment the cameras stopped, reverting to her usual goofy, cheerful self.

Song Yi had to admit: she had underestimated Shen Yu. This woman possessed the kind of raw talent that Song Yi envied.

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