A Flirtatious Beauty Alpha Provokes a Crazy Omega - Chapter 19

Chapter 19: In Character

Jiang Mi waved regretfully at Shen Ruoxi. It was her tenth day cutting carbs—she felt like even her breath smelled like bran by now, let alone indulging in something as luxurious as cake. Honestly, she really wanted a bite.

But for now, she could only grab her script and follow Yan Wei.

There was no way she could refuse.

As soon as they entered the residential building, the hairs on the back of Jiang Mi’s neck stood up. She felt as if she could see moss creeping into the corners, the chill and dampness seeping up through the soles of her shoes. She wanted to ask if Yan Wei was cold—but didn’t.

When they reached the door, Jiang Mi asked, “Should we start from the entrance scene?”

“No need,” Yan Wei said and walked straight into “Liang Yongping’s” apartment.

“Can’t bear to let go?” she asked.

Jiang Mi paused. “What?”

When she looked up, Yan Wei was staring at her with a faint, unreadable gaze. “Should I call her back for you?”

Only then did Jiang Mi realize—Yan Wei had already begun running lines.

She glanced at the script, took a deep breath, and quickly began following along.

By the time they got to the bathroom scene, it was almost time to start filming. Outside, all departments were getting ready. Jiang Qu’s voice came from beyond the door: “How’s it going? Any issues?”

Jiang Mi looked at Yan Wei. What mattered today wasn’t the lines—it was the physical interaction between them. Although they’d walked through the scene earlier and she’d mentally rehearsed it hundreds of times, she was still afraid of making a mistake in front of Yan Wei.

“Let’s try it,” Yan Wei said.

That was Jiang Qu’s style exactly:

—Try it.

Jiang Qu didn’t like things to feel rigid. She preferred the natural beauty of realism.

She had absolute confidence in her instincts. Just like now, seeing Yan Wei and Jiang Mi standing there—she already considered the scene begun.

…

Qin Shui arrived.

She looked at Liang Yongping like a hunter staring at prey—or like a drenched dog gazing at its owner. It was a complicated, unreadable look. She stared at Liang Yongping, who was still wearing that soft-looking white dress bought by her fiancée.

Why wasn’t Liang Yongping hers?

“Do it with me once, and I’ll never bother you again.”

Qin Shui didn’t get closer. She simply sat on the old couch. “This time I mean it. Liang Yongping, just once, and I’ll leave you for good.”

A sharp, uncontrollable pain shot through Liang Yongping’s heart.

Followed by a rush of tangled fury.

Later, she would understand: life always makes you pay for the wrong choices.

With a blank expression, she walked toward Qin Shui. “Just once? That’s all it takes?”

Even in humiliation, she had to stab back.

“If you’re willing, twice works too,” Qin Shui said with her usual sarcastic smile.

Liang Yongping’s lips tightened. She was angry—Qin Shui could tell. And yet, without hesitation, Qin Shui lifted her leg and rubbed the pointed toe of her heel back and forth over the hem of Liang Yongping’s white dress.

Qin Shui was wearing a cheongsam, and those smooth, pale legs of hers flashed right into Liang Yongping’s eyes.

Liang Yongping grabbed her ankle. The cold touch made Qin Shui tremble, the shiver shooting deep through her core.

“You—”

Before the words were out, footsteps sounded outside. The door lock turned in just a few seconds!

When Bai Xiao opened the door, the first thing she saw was Liang Yongping standing in white at the bathroom entrance. She clutched the dress to her chest, the strap of her bra visible on her bare shoulder. Bai Xiao’s gaze swept down those fair, bare legs, and something dark flickered in her eyes.

Liang Yongping looked startled. “Why are you back?”

“I forgot my workbook,” Bai Xiao said as she slowly stepped forward. “Showering?”

“Yeah… I was sweating.”

“Yongping, you’re always pushing me away. That’s not good,” Bai Xiao said with a smile, now standing right in front of her. She took a breath. “Yongping, after New Year’s, we’re getting married. There’s no point in you resisting like this.”

She reached out, trying to touch Liang Yongping’s smooth shoulder. Liang Yongping reflexively stepped back, clutching the doorknob. “You should get to work—I’m taking a shower.”

Bai Xiao narrowed her eyes, then glanced at her watch. “Yeah, I should go. Can I kiss you?”

Suddenly, there was a faint noise from inside the bathroom.

Liang Yongping’s scalp tingled. Her palms were sweaty. She truly thought Qin Shui was insane!

“What was that?” Bai Xiao frowned.

Before the question finished, Liang Yongping leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

Bai Xiao was surprised—then delighted. She wanted more, wanted to press further, even by force if necessary. But, unfortunately, she really didn’t have time.

…

“Cut—take a break.”

As soon as Jiang Qu called it, Zhao Jia immediately wrapped a blanket around Jiang Mi and rubbed her shoulders. The scene might have looked like summer, but in reality, it was just early spring in Huaicheng—and still very cold. Especially in that damp, shaded room.

Yan Wei took the hot water Bai Qiu handed her. From beneath the blanket, two shapely legs briefly flashed in her line of sight—an image that made her chest itch faintly.

She took a sip of water, her nails lightly scratching the smooth, warm surface of the cup—again and again.

Jiang Mi’s legs were trembling from the cold. She inhaled through her teeth while listening carefully to Jiang Qu’s feedback: “No problems with the emotion—everything was great. But it lacked a bit of visual appeal. The shoulder strap looks too stiff—mess it up a bit. Hold the dress lower—yes, don’t show the color of the strap inside. We want exposed skin, not sleaze. Show a bit of the waistline. Okay, that’s better. Let’s shoot again.”

The blanket was taken away, and the props team sprayed a fine mist of water on Jiang Mi’s face and body.

…

Clutching the dress, Liang Yongping quickly shut herself inside the bathroom. She locked the door, her back pressed to it, soaked in both cold sweat and hot sweat. Qin Shui turned on the shower, and in the rising steam, her beautiful face was cold as ice—like she was ready to nail Liang Yongping to that door.

There was still no sound of the door closing outside — Bai Xiao was still in the living room.

Liang Yongping didn’t dare say anything. She shook her head, signaling — warning — Qin Shui not to say or do anything.

Qin Shui stepped forward and roughly wiped Liang Yongping’s lips with the pad of her thumb, as if trying to erase some trace. Liang Yongping had no idea how Qin Shui, hidden in the bathroom, knew what she had done, but at that moment, a misplaced sense of guilt rose within her — followed by a surge of anger and frustration.

She turned her face away and shoved Qin Shui hard.

Enough!

Bang — Qin Shui crashed into the shower rack.

Qin Shui sat on the floor for several seconds without lifting her head, while Liang Yongping’s eyes suddenly turned red. What was she doing? What exactly was she doing?!

Liang Yongping covered her face. All the pent-up emotions she had been suppressing for so long collapsed in an instant like an avalanche from a snowy mountain. After a while, she lowered her hands, looked at Qin Shui on the floor, then closed her eyes in pain. After countless struggles, she walked through the mist and crouched under the shower, hugging Qin Shui with her drenched body.

In the rising steam and water, she cupped Qin Shui’s face and pressed their foreheads together.

“…I’m sorry.”

She didn’t know how it had come to this.

Qin Shui looked at her. “I won’t force you anymore.”

Liang Yongping was crying — but really, was any of this Qin Shui’s fault? Wasn’t she the one who had fallen first?

She gazed at the woman in front of her carefully, painfully — it felt like her heart was rolling over sharp needles. The mist blurred her vision. Eventually, she closed her eyes and leaned in toward Qin Shui.

In front of the monitors.

“Director… that part wasn’t in the script, was it?”

Jiang Qu puffed on a cigarette and motioned for the speaker to hush — but her eyes were full of joy and excitement.

Water had soaked the two of them completely. Liang Yongping’s white camisole and base shorts clung to her skin, while Qin Shui’s dark green cheongsam fluttered in the mist like life blooming from a dead corner of the wall.

Water and flesh — decay and vitality — these were the most beautiful, pure, and primal things.

In the bathroom, Liang Yongping cradled Qin Shui’s face. Her eyes were full of love, pain, restraint — and finality.

She had played her part well these past few days, but in this moment, it all came crashing down.

With tears in her eyes, she kissed Qin Shui’s forehead. The overhead light buzzed with electricity. They shivered in the wet, their noses touched, and then Liang Yongping looked at Qin Shui’s lips.

Just this once. Just indulge one last time.

She leaned down, but ultimately stopped at the corner of Qin Shui’s lips.

“Cut! Good! Very good!”

Jiang Mi didn’t even register Jiang Qu’s voice. Her emotions hadn’t settled yet. She instinctively clung to Yan Wei, gasping for breath — until a cool, clear voice sounded in her ear: “Jiang Mi.”

She snapped out of it, realizing what she was doing. She immediately stepped back and apologized to Yan Wei. From outside the bathroom came rustling sounds, and as usual, she looked to meet Yan Wei’s eyes.

But unfortunately, Yan Wei’s eyes were downcast — she saw nothing.

Jiang Mi shivered, hugging her arms. She was completely soaked and curled into herself, afraid to move too much in case something accidentally slipped. She waited for her manager to come cover her — but while Bai Qiu had already entered and draped a blanket over Yan Wei, Zhao Jia was nowhere in sight.

The next second, something dropped in front of her.

Without a word, Yan Wei placed the blanket from her own shoulders over Jiang Mi’s chest.

Bai Qiu, reacting quickly, turned around to fetch another.

Jiang Mi looked up — droplets of water were dripping from Yan Wei’s long neck into her collar. The delicate embroidery on her cheongsam was being saturated by the damp.

Jiang Mi panicked and tried to return the blanket, but Bai Qiu was faster — handing a new one over.

All she could do was whisper a grateful “Thank you.”

Leaving the bathroom, Jiang Mi and Yan Wei stood before the monitor together. Jiang Qu was delighted, saying this was her most satisfying take so far — and Jiang Mi’s best performance yet.

Jiang Mi explained, “I hope you don’t mind that I took liberties.”

She had been too caught up in the moment — full of sadness and heartache — and hadn’t thought it through. She snuck a glance at Yan Wei, only to be caught. Startled, the next second, Yan Wei averted her gaze.

Jiang Qu shook her head. “I like it when actors take initiative.”

Afterward, Jiang Mi and Yan Wei headed to the break room to change into dry clothes. On the way, Jiang Mi caught up with her to apologize.

“Teacher Yan, just now… I hope you didn’t mind?”

Yan Wei didn’t respond. She turned to let Bai Qiu walk ahead first.

Only then did she glance at Jiang Mi. She could tell Jiang Mi had been keeping her distance these past few days. She didn’t know the reason, but it seemed understandable.

And yet, looking at Jiang Mi now, standing before her with a flushed face — that restlessness Yan Wei had felt over the past two days suddenly seemed to ease.

Yan Wei slowly rubbed her thumb against her fingertip.

“…What about just now?”

Jiang Mi threw caution to the wind. “I got too into character. That kiss — do you mind?”

She needed to understand how her co-actor felt, so she could act more freely next time.

Yan Wei paused. Then, with a faint, unreadable smile, she said:

“Jiang Mi — that wasn’t a kiss.”