A Flirtatious Beauty Alpha Provokes a Crazy Omega - Chapter 14
Chapter 14: Thoughts
The rain passed by 11 a.m., and surprisingly, patches of sunlight began to peek through the sky.
By the afternoon, the ground had dried. Except for puddles beneath old eaves, it was as if the dampness from earlier had never existed.
As planned, Jiang Mi continued filming after lunch—the scene where Qin Shui and Liang Yongping meet for the first time.
Jiang Mi and Yan Wei stood to the side, listening to Jiang Qu’s directions. Once the director went to adjust the monitors, Yan Wei said, “The coat got dirty. I’ll return it after dry cleaning.”
Jiang Mi replied, “It’s fine, really. No need.”
Yan Wei had returned the script to her that morning—personally, not through Bai Qiu. Thinking about the notes she had scribbled in the margins, Jiang Mi felt inexplicably guilty.
But rather than acting evasive, she decided to own up to it. “Um… Ms. Yan, did you see the notes I wrote in the script?”
Yan Wei: “What notes?”
Jiang Mi: “Nothing much, just… little acting-related thoughts.”
She pinched her thumb and forefinger together, showing a small gap to illustrate.
Yan Wei turned her eyes away, pretending not to see Jiang Mi’s obvious sigh of relief.
It had been exactly twenty days since the beginning of spring.
Around 10 a.m., Liang Yongping sat on the steps outside her home, picking the morning’s string beans.
She wore an old black cotton coat, fitted dark-blue jeans, and a pair of mint-green lace-edged sleeves to protect her wrists.
The buildings were close together, and at this time of day, sunlight could just barely reach her doorstep—for only a short while. She cherished those few moments each day.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of high heels. In this old, remote residential area mostly occupied by elderly people, that kind of sound was rare.
She looked toward the alley’s entrance, wondering which family’s “young lady” had returned to visit.
The first thing she saw was the edge of a dark green skirt, followed by a breathtaking figure—so beautiful it made her feel ashamed of herself.
“Hello.”
The woman’s voice reminded Liang Yongping of spring. She nodded in response, then lowered her gaze.
“I’m Qin Shui. I just rented the second floor yesterday—right above you.”
Liang Yongping looked up. “Hello.”
Qin Shui walked closer and stopped in front of her. That was when Liang Yongping caught a distinct rose fragrance from the woman. It dawned on her that the sunlight above her head had been blocked.
The woman smiled. “You live here? Then we’re neighbors now.”
Liang Yongping returned a polite smile. Qin Shui then clicked her high heels and started up the stairs—step by step, slow and measured.
Suddenly, the sound of heels stopped.
Liang Yongping looked up from her low stool and saw the woman standing on the slanted staircase. Her figure was graceful, her features like a painting—charming and elegant all at once. She didn’t look like someone who belonged in a place like this.
A breeze lifted the hem of her qipao, revealing her fair, slender calves—and that sight caught Liang Yongping off guard, burning into her vision.
She looked away in a near panic, just as the woman’s soft voice rang out with a smile: “By the way, you’re really beautiful.”
Only when the sound of high heels resumed—and finally faded into silence—did Liang Yongping stop her mechanical bean-picking.
She stared down at her hands. They were long and slender, but her thumbs had long nails to help with the picking. The tips were stained green from the beans. Years of labor had made her fingertips rough and dry.
Her face was the same. A few years ago, she might’ve been considered decent-looking. But after years of hardship, she no longer felt human—let alone “beautiful.” How long had it been since anyone said that word to her?
She felt like it was mockery.
The building above had already blocked out the sun. Liang Yongping stood, gripping the basket so hard her nails nearly dug into it. Then she shut the door tightly behind her.
“Cut—!”
As soon as Jiang Qu called it, Jiang Mi put down the basket and immediately stepped outside to find better lighting. She’d been so deep in the scene just now that while clutching the basket, she’d gotten a splinter in her finger.
Zhao Jia found a needle from the props team and was picking it out under the sunlight.
Yan Wei came down from upstairs. A makeup artist approached to touch up her makeup and casually asked, “What’s going on?”
Bai Qiu looked toward Jiang Mi and replied, “Not sure. Something’s up with her hand? Should I go check?”
“No need.”
The splinter wasn’t big, but it was deep. It took Jiang Mi ten minutes to get it out.
Around 2 p.m., Jiang Qu needed time to adjust the camera angles, so he gave everyone a half-hour break. Jiang Mi wanted to head back to the lounge for a good lie-down. Since Zhao Jia had been called back to the office, Jiang Mi carried her script and headed off alone.
A few steps ahead, she spotted Yan Wei, draped in a shawl, walking alone. Sometimes before a shoot, Yan Wei wouldn’t speak to anyone, so Jiang Mi wasn’t sure if she wanted company. After a moment’s thought, she decided not to disturb her.
But maybe because Jiang Mi was wearing flats and walked faster, the distance between them shortened quickly. By the time they entered the actors’ area and neared the lounge, they were just a few steps apart.
Jiang Mi finally called out, “Ms. Yan.”
Yan Wei turned around and stopped in place, as if waiting for her to catch up. Jiang Mi paused for a second, then walked quickly to her side, a hint of surprise and joy on her face.
Even though Yan Wei wore heels, they weren’t much different in height.
Jiang Mi couldn’t think of anything to say, but her smile reached her eyes and cheeks.
Yan Wei asked calmly, “Why are you smiling?”
Jiang Mi answered honestly, “Seeing you makes me happy.”
Yan Wei’s brows moved slightly but didn’t respond. She probably knew that Jiang Mi would keep talking whether she replied or not.
Jiang Mi asked, “Ms. Yan, is your hand better now?”
At that, Yan Wei looked at her for a few seconds, then slowly opened her hands.
They were beautiful hands—only a faint mark remained on her palm, nearly healed.
Jiang Mi: “…”
Unbelievable, Jia…
She felt a little awkward and quickly shifted the blame. “Well, they were the ones who said your hand was cut and bleeding.”
Yan Wei looked at her, her long lashes casting a shadow over her eyes. She casually glanced at Jiang Mi’s own uninjured, fair hands before focusing back on her face. “In this place, what others say doesn’t matter as much as what you see and hear for yourself.”
Jiang Mi caught that familiar scent again—a mix of roses and brandy.
She nodded. “Got it. I’ll remember.”
Yan Wei didn’t look away, yet a strange, unexplainable thought sprouted deep in her chest—itchy and restless.
Sunlight streamed through the transparent corridor windows, stretching both their shadows on the ground.
Yan Wei was still dressed as Qin Shui—in a dark green patterned qipao, high heels, and a lace shawl that swayed gently in the breeze. In just a second or two, the light shifted, shining from behind Yan Wei and through the gap between her waist and arms, landing right on Jiang Mi’s mint-green sleeve covers.
The light and shadow danced.
Yan Wei gave a soft “Mm.”
She didn’t seem eager to keep talking. After another glance at Jiang Mi, she said, “Go rest.”
Jiang Mi smiled. “Okay. See you in a bit.”
A beat passed.
Yan Wei nodded.
Jiang Mi stood at the door, watching Yan Wei’s figure walk away. She couldn’t explain the feeling, but even the dust on the ground suddenly seemed… endearing.