A Flirtatious Beauty Alpha Provokes a Crazy Omega - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Getting in the Car (Three-in-One)

 

The door to the lounge closed again.

 

When Jiang Mi stepped out, she could still tread on the sunlight in the corridor. Then, she missed a step — the light pierced through her flesh and shone on her legs. She looked down and saw the dazzling, eye-catching signed photo in her hand.

 

Yan Wei sat under the locust tree in a cheongsam. Moss crept up the stone alley, and the locust blossoms fell silently like snow on her. She was beautiful to the point of loneliness.

 

Jiang Mi had never thought Yan Wei and Qin Shui were alike — until this moment.

 

She had never felt confused being around Yan Wei — until this moment.

 

What a pity… pity what, exactly?

 

Pity that Qin Shui wasn’t real. Pity that she couldn’t get close to Yan Wei.

 

…

 

At 7:30 PM, Jiang Qu suddenly added a scene.

 

It was because she overheard the medical staff reminding Bai Qiu that bruised areas shouldn’t be treated with ointment within 72 hours.

 

Jiang Qu smoked two cigarettes and, after pausing production for five minutes, turned to Jiang Mi and Yan Wei.
“I want to shoot a scene showing a change in Qin Shui’s attitude. From this point on, Qin Shui is no longer so passionate toward Yongping. Your reaction should be ambiguous — not clearly heartbroken, but also not obviously playing hard to get. Improvise the dialogue.”

 

Yan Wei thought for a moment and nodded.

 

Jiang Qu turned to Jiang Mi and asked, “What do you think Liang Yongping would feel in this scene?”

 

“Confused.”

 

Jiang Qu was surprised by the quick response. “Explain.”

 

Jiang Mi was briefly silent.
“No matter the kind of feelings involved, once there’s an emotional entanglement, it’s hard to cut it cleanly in an instant. Let alone they were the closest lovers in each other’s hearts. When the other person’s attitude changes suddenly — even if it’s a result she herself forced — she would still feel confused first, unsure how to face it, how to deal with it, how to move on from the coldness, how to act as if nothing happened, or how to avoid looking too pitiful.”

 

Jiang Qu was impressed. “Go on.”

 

Even Jiang Mi herself was surprised — was she really able to analyze Liang Yongping’s mindset so clearly now?

 

“Then — comes the dull pain, slowly creeping from the heart to every limb. She wants to cry but can’t. She feels like she should be sad, but maybe not. After all, this was the expected result. But she doesn’t understand — how did things turn out like this? Then, she probably feels reluctant… missing all the beautiful moments they had, like their first meeting…”

 

Her words suddenly stopped. At that moment, the memory that surfaced was her first meeting with Yan Wei — that day, she had held her by mistake, and the figure from the LED screen appeared before her eyes.

 

She held back from looking at Yan Wei’s face, even though she felt childish and absurd.

 

She shouldn’t feel unhappy. It wasn’t like this was the first time Yan Wei had rejected her. She didn’t know what was wrong — was she angry at herself? Or at Yan Wei?

 

Why would she be angry? What right did she have to be?

 

It was all too surreal.

 

“You’ve improved quickly.” Jiang Qu pulled her back to reality. “You’re really starting to feel like Liang Yongping. It’s good — the audience will believe you’re genuinely experiencing it.”

 

Jiang Mi smiled, “That’s because you’re a good teacher.”

 

“She’s doing really well now, right, Yan Wei?” Jiang Qu suddenly turned.

 

Yan Wei seemed distracted. After a beat, she nodded, “Yes, she’s improved a lot.”

 

This was probably the first time she’d received Yan Wei’s praise, Jiang Mi thought.

 

She smiled and said, “Thank you, Teacher Yan. It’s all thanks to your guidance.”

 

Yan Wei looked at Jiang Mi’s curved, smiling eyes. She couldn’t read her thoughts, but since that afternoon, Jiang Mi hadn’t initiated any more conversations — though her expressions and reactions seemed the same as always.

 

For some reason, that made Yan Wei feel a little uneasy. She stayed silent, waiting for Jiang Qu’s next instruction.

 

Meanwhile, Jiang Qu seemed fully relaxed now, unusually upbeat.
“Alright, go get ready. Yan Wei, we need close-up and long shots of your waist. Makeup artist, finish it up and let me check the details on camera.”

 

Yan Wei responded flatly.

 

Jiang Qu turned to direct the camera crew.

 

Jiang Mi stayed in place until Yan Wei had left for makeup. Then she went to sit on a nearby folding chair.

 

Jiang Qu hadn’t provided a script — everything was improvised.

 

At nearly 8 PM, the set had quieted, with fewer people than in the daytime. Still, it felt like the noise filled her ears, turning into white noise that buzzed and hummed, almost torturous.

 

She couldn’t concentrate, her face scrunched like a bitter melon.

 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Zhao Jia draped a coat over her shoulders, staring at her pale face.

 

Jiang Mi was quiet for a few seconds. “If someone suddenly changes their attitude toward you, but you don’t know why — what would you do?”

 

Zhao Jia replied, “Ask them.”

 

“But… you’re not exactly eager to ask.”

 

“Why aren’t you happy?”

 

“I don’t know. Just—” Jiang Mi suddenly didn’t know how to continue.

 

Zhao Jia tried to follow her line of thought. “You and Apple had a fight? Weren’t things fine earlier today?”

 

Jiang Mi didn’t want to talk anymore and shook her head. She just needed time to clear her mind.

 

Zhao Jia saw her expression and jokingly patted her on the shoulder. “You didn’t actually fall for Apple, did you? She has a girlfriend, you know. Being the third wheel isn’t right.”

 

“…Are you insane?”

 

Seeing Jiang Mi’s face come back to life, Zhao Jia smiled and pulled over a chair, quietly sitting beside her. But her own smile faded, and her eyes grew complicated.

 

Had it been a mistake to let Jiang Mi take this role?

 

“Mi-mi.”

 

Jiang Mi turned her head and saw Zhao Jia unusually serious.

 

“When someone stays too long in one environment, they get assimilated. Last year, around 10 PM one night, my mom accidentally called me. The first thing I said to her was, ‘You scared me. I thought something happened to Jiang Mi.’ I shivered after that. It was terrifying that those words came from me. I’d been too absorbed in my role as a manager. Thankfully, I snapped out of it — that’s why I gave myself a vacation this New Year to be with my mom.”

 

“You’re the same,” Zhao Jia said. “I don’t know what you’re feeling, but I think you’re just temporarily influenced by this acting role. That’s not a bad thing. It happens all the time in this industry. Your emotions and thoughts may not be purely for one person. Maybe they’re being pulled by the role. To put it bluntly, it might not even be entirely real. This isn’t your first drama and won’t be the last. Whatever you’re feeling now, it won’t be the last time. Don’t overthink. Just finish the remaining two months, and it’ll all be over.”

 

…

 

By the time the last scene ended that night, it was past 10 PM. The next day’s filming was postponed until after lunch.

 

Shen Ruoxi suggested going for a late-night snack.

 

Yan Wei was the first to decline. Jiang Qu also didn’t join, saying her presence would make others uncomfortable — but she’d reimburse everyone’s meal. The group laughed and agreed cheerfully.

 

Jiang Mi smiled along. When Shen Ruoxi asked her directly, she glanced at Yan Wei, who was already leaving, then happily agreed: “I’m in!”

 

Shen Ruoxi was energetic and sociable, and under her influence, the whole private room became more festive than the New Year.

 

After a few bites, Shen Ruoxi turned to Jiang Mi with a glass of wine: “Mi-mi, one shot?”

 

Zhao Jia intervened first: “She can’t drink. Come on, Ruoxi, I’ll drink with you.”

 

“Seriously?” Shen Ruoxi didn’t believe it.

 

Jiang Mi shrugged. “I really can’t.”

 

“How bad is it?”

 

Jiang Mi held up one finger.

 

Shen Ruoxi laughed. “One-glass drunk?”

 

Jiang Mi shook her head. “One sip.”

 

“…Pfft, hahahahaha!”

 

At home, both her brothers drank by the case. But Jiang Mi had always been the weak one — beer, wine, or liquor, she couldn’t handle any of it. Her drinks were juice, milk, or calcium-enriched drinks.

 

Another actor joined in: “Not even a little? Mi-mi, you’re an alpha, right?”

 

What, alphas can’t be bad at drinking? Jiang Mi thought.

 

No one believed her. A “one-sip drunk” was something people only heard of in dramas — never in real life.

 

Zhao Jia explained a bit. Shen Ruoxi also backed off: “Then I’ll drink with Zhao-jie. Let’s not get scolded by the director tomorrow.”

 

Jiang Mi looked at her gratefully. Shen Ruoxi winked and whispered, “You owe me dinner.”

 

“No problem.”

 

They were having fun until someone somewhere mentioned “Yan Wei.”

 

Jiang Mi perked up her ears. A not-so-familiar actor, clearly drunk and red-faced, kept talking despite others trying to stop her.
“Don’t you think she’s kind of pretentious? I mean… not in a bad way! Just hard to get close to, makes her seem cold.”

 

Her follow-up was clearly an attempt to backtrack.
“I don’t mean I dislike her! I’m a fan too! She’s great! This won’t leak, right? I really do like Teacher Yan!”

 

Listening to this vague explanation, Jiang Mi gently put down her chopsticks.

 

“She’s not even here. Let’s not talk behind her back, okay?”

 

Her voice dropped — and the room fell into a momentary silence.

 

Even Zhao Jia was surprised. Having worked with Jiang Mi for so long, she could tell — Jiang Mi was genuinely angry.

 

But just as everyone looked puzzled, Jiang Mi smiled and said, “Shen-laoshi and I have lots of scenes too! Let’s give us side characters some attention, alright? Since everyone’s having fun, I’ll join in for a sip.”

 

Before Zhao Jia could stop her, Jiang Mi picked up her glass and took a big sip.

 

Everyone relaxed and laughed again. The cheerful mood quickly returned.

 

The late-night gathering lasted two hours. If Shen Ruoxi hadn’t gotten too drunk, they might’ve kept going.

 

…

 

Past midnight.

 

Jiang Mi leaned against the car window. That big gulp of red wine had already hit her. Fortunately, it wasn’t strong, so aside from feeling flushed and a little dizzy, she wasn’t too uncomfortable.

 

“You usually let people talk smack about you, but no one can touch your idol?” Zhao Jia could tell she wasn’t quite herself tonight.

 

Jiang Mi said, “I didn’t want to hear it. Just spoke too fast.”

 

That sip of wine was just to ease the tension. She couldn’t let the mood drop because of her. Everyone had to keep working together.

 

Zhao Jia opened her mouth but only said, “You’ve got twenty minutes. Try to sleep.”

 

Jiang Mi nodded and closed her eyes — but she barely dozed.

 

When she got out of the car, her legs nearly gave out. If she hadn’t grabbed the door, she might’ve collapsed. Zhao Jia came to help, but Jiang Mi stubbornly said, “I got it.”

 

She really did.

 

Her mind was sharp. Aside from feeling warm, she didn’t think she was drunk.

 

She believed her alcohol tolerance had improved. Or maybe the wine just wasn’t strong tonight.

 

Zhao Jia let her be and praised her: “Impressive, impressive.”

 

Sure, if only her steps weren’t so wobbly.

 

Jiang Mi flipped her hair, her flushed face showing a hint of unaware charm.
“No biggie. Next time I’ll try two sips.”

 

Zhao Jia: “……” Such audacity.

 

Not far away, a white Bentley had turned off its engine, nestled among other cars.

 

Jiang Mi turned her head. The night wind, thick with the smell of alcohol, hit her face. Shen Ruoxi had gotten out of the car too, half of her body draped over her manager’s shoulder. But she was so drunk that even her manager couldn’t support her properly—Zhao Jia had to step in and help.

 

After much effort, they finally got her into the elevator. Jiang Mi remembered there were still some things left in the car. Since the others were busy dealing with Shen Ruoxi, she stepped out of the elevator alone.

 

The elevator doors closed behind her as she made her way—unsteadily—toward the nanny van. Thankfully, the driver hadn’t left yet.

 

Soon, she came back holding a plastic bag.

 

Under the stark white lights of the parking garage, her shadow stretched long and thin. Each step made her knees ache with fatigue.

 

She wore a snug white knit jacket that hugged her curves, with a slim waist and long legs wrapped in jeans. Her shoulder-length black hair was slightly tousled. Her face and neck were flushed like ripe honeyed fruit—and her ears and lips were even redder.

 

Clearly, she was tired.

 

But she still smiled and waved politely at the driver, reminding him to be careful on the road. She added a courteous “thank you.”

 

Maybe because of the alcohol, she licked her lips to combat the dryness, then pulled down the zipper of her knit jacket slightly, revealing her collarbone tinged pink by the alcohol. Still feeling too warm, she reached to unzip it further.

 

That’s when Yan Wei opened her car door.

 

A heavy car door slammed shut behind her, making Jiang Mi instinctively turn her head. She froze slightly as she saw the woman emerging from the white car. Suddenly, the damp, musty smell of the underground garage seemed to fade.

 

The woman looked even colder than during the day—though still just as beautiful.

 

Yan Wei walked past Jiang Mi, who reeked of alcohol, and entered the elevator. She turned around, her pale, elegant fingers hovering over the “Open” button. She looked at Jiang Mi and said:

 

“Get in.”

 

Was it just her imagination? Jiang Mi thought she heard a commanding tone in her voice.

 

She didn’t feel anything wrong at that moment. Just thought to herself—can’t Yan Wei just smile at her for once?

 

…

 

The ceiling light in the elevator reflected in shards on Yan Wei’s diamond earrings. The moment Jiang Mi stepped inside, the metal doors closed behind her, sealing away the sound of tires, wind, and all the chaos outside.

 

The floor numbers began to change.

 

Jiang Mi stared at their mirrored reflections, her gaze drifting from Yan Wei’s shoulders down to her impeccable waistline.

 

She recalled the scene they filmed that night. Everyone thought the shoot started quickly because of the makeup artist, but afterward, they learned that Yan Wei’s lower back was so badly bruised it didn’t even need special effects makeup.

 

If Director Jiang hadn’t added that scene last-minute, no one would’ve known how badly injured Yan Wei really was.

 

“You’ve been drinking?” Yan Wei asked suddenly.

 

Startled, Jiang Mi looked away guiltily and nodded. “Mm, just a little.”

 

“A little?” Yan Wei repeated.

 

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, almost overpowering Jiang Mi’s own scent.

 

She subtly sniffed the air—what she smelled more of was Yan Wei’s scent. But that was a secret only she knew.

 

She simply replied, “Teacher Shen and the others drank more.”

 

Yan Wei glanced at her.

 

Jiang Mi couldn’t read the emotion in her eyes. She froze, not knowing what to say. She didn’t want to continue the conversation and make it seem like she’d missed the point of what Yan Wei said that afternoon.

 

The floor numbers kept climbing.

 

 

 

 

As they approached the 19th floor, Jiang Mi moved toward the door. Before the button light dimmed, she turned and handed Yan Wei the plastic bag.

 

“The pharmacist said this works well, but you have to wait two days before using it.”

 

The elevator door opened.

 

Yan Wei looked from Jiang Mi’s fingers up to her face. Instead of taking the ointment, she pressed the “Close” button.

 

Jiang Mi: “……?”

 

What was that supposed to mean?

 

They were now only one step apart. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the alcohol’s heat spread upward. She didn’t know that her face had turned the shade of someone truly drunk.

 

Then she heard Yan Wei say, “Mo Xi brought something for you.”

 

So that was it. Jiang Mi nodded in understanding. She suspected the earlier tension had raised her bl00d pressure, which was why she felt dizzy now.

 

But it was fine.

 

She told herself it was fine—she was still conscious.

 

At nearly 1 a.m., the electronic lock clicked.

 

Jiang Mi followed Yan Wei into the apartment.

 

No windows were open; the air tonight felt stifling. Jiang Mi took a few deep breaths, placed the ointment on the entryway cabinet, and stood there.

 

“I’ll just wait here.”

 

Jiang Mi prided herself on knowing her place.

 

Yan Wei didn’t respond. She took off her coat, hung it up, and casually dropped a dried rosebud into a glass at the tea bar. The machine hissed as steam filled the cup.

 

“When did you buy the medicine?” she asked.

 

Jiang Mi’s scalp tightened like it was being pulled. Her eyelids drooped with fatigue, but she answered clearly, “On the way back. I passed a pharmacy.”

 

“You remembered to do that after drinking this much?”

 

Jiang Mi didn’t know how to read the situation. Hadn’t Yan Wei said earlier that she didn’t want to see her again? What was going on now?

 

Her mind buzzed like boiling water.

 

“I remembered,” she said.

 

“Why?” Yan Wei asked again.

 

Jiang Mi glanced at the script on the coffee table, as if she hadn’t heard the question. Instead, she asked, “Teacher Yan, is the rose scent on you to help you get into character?”

 

Yan Wei paused. “Mm.”

 

That made sense. Yan Wei used the scent to become Qin Shui. So was it so strange that she occasionally lost herself in a role?

 

Jiang Mi asked, “How do you manage to enter character so quickly and then exit just as easily?”

 

To fully immerse yourself in a moment that feels real—and then completely detach. Was that talent? Or just practice?

 

Yan Wei said, “With time, you’ll be able to do it too.”

 

“Really?” Jiang Mi nodded vaguely. She wasn’t sure she could ever become someone like Yan Wei. “There’s something else I don’t understand.”

 

Yan Wei met her eyes—bright and lost in a fog.

 

For a few seconds, the air seemed still.

 

The phrase “You don’t need to bring me anything anymore. I don’t need anything,” echoed in Jiang Mi’s mind.

 

For the first time, her eyes held no smile. She was different.

 

“You said you didn’t want to see me anymore,” she said. “If that’s true, couldn’t you have had Qiu Qiu give this to me?”

 

Maybe Jiang Mi didn’t even realize—she hadn’t used her usual honorific this time.

 

She was always careful, never asking rude questions. But tonight, she’d had that one drink.

 

Click—

 

The kettle clicked off.

 

Hot water poured into the cup. The petals spasmed and unfolded, as if resurrected. The light scent of rose quickly filled the room.

 

Yan Wei lowered her gaze. The steam blurred her vision. She watched the petals bloom in the cup.

 

She suddenly didn’t understand what she was doing anymore.

 

Her body, her mind—everything felt foreign. She realized she couldn’t fully control her emotions when it came to Jiang Mi. From the moment they met, she’d felt resistance and dislike toward her. That emotion came from the loss of control—from allowing Jiang Mi to get too close, again and again. From the loss of control when their pheromones reacted… from seeing her clothes in disarray after filming…

 

From the loss of control that made her want to own this person—

 

Her calm, nearly perfect façade had nearly been ripped apart several times by this alpha.

 

Her emotions churned like rose petals in boiling water—wild and uncontrollable.

 

She allowed Jiang Mi to bring her pleasure—but not trouble.

 

Finally, she said: “Forget it.”

 

Jiang Mi leaned against the door, the wood cold on her back.

 

She watched Yan Wei approach. The cup clinked sharply against the entryway table, breaking the silence. Yan Wei set down the tea, then placed a rolled-up scroll beside it. Her voice, wrapped in rose scent, was emotionless again.

 

“Mo Xi brought this for you.”

 

Jiang Mi’s eyes dropped to the cup. Hearing those words, a strange rebellion bloomed inside her.

 

She’d always obeyed Yan Wei. On and off set—Yan Wei said “leave,” so she left. “Don’t get close,” so she didn’t. She hadn’t even contacted Mo Yun or Mo Xi for a while.

 

But if Yan Wei was in a good mood, she could show up here again. Like tonight—not like earlier when she said, “Don’t come again.”

 

Just a few words, and she’d start to hope again. As if she could melt the ice and see what lay beneath. But in the next moment, Yan Wei returned to her usual coldness.

 

Every time Jiang Mi thought they were getting closer, Yan Wei reminded her—it was all in her head.

 

The choice, the power, always belonged to Yan Wei.

 

It had always been that way…

 

But why was she bothered now?

 

She didn’t know where it went wrong. Yan Wei had always been like this. Jiang Mi had analyzed it thoroughly. No matter what Yan Wei’s attitude was, it was normal. She should understand. As a junior and co-star, she had to respect and accept it.

 

What was there to be upset about?

 

—“Your emotions, your feelings, your thoughts might not be solely for one person. They might be shaped by the characters you play. To be blunt, they might not be entirely real.”

 

Was it really just the character affecting her?

 

She stared at the tea, dizzy and lucid all at once.

 

She wanted to try something.

 

Try what? She didn’t think it through—her mouth just moved.

 

“Teacher Yan.”

 

Yan Wei had been watching her.

 

Jiang Mi’s fingertips curled into her palms. The obedience she’d kept bound inside began to riot in her veins. The alcohol brought out a boldness she’d never felt.

 

“Director Jiang said we’ll be reshooting the earlier kiss scene soon.”

 

“I heard.”

 

“I’m not confident I can do it well.”

 

Her red-tinted eyes looked into Yan Wei’s. “Can I ask you to rehearse the scene with me?”

 

Yan Wei’s eyes narrowed. Her fingers twitched slightly on the table. “So drinking gives you courage, is that it?”

 

Jiang Mi smirked. “Do you dislike it?”

 

Was Yan Wei going to say she disliked her? Or not really?

 

Yan Wei looked at that beautiful face. What a sight—an alpha, head tilted, asking if she disliked her with those flushed lips.

 

Jiang Mi was a temptress. From the moment Yan Wei saw her and smelled that creamy scent on her, she knew.

 

But Jiang Mi was usually unaware of her own allure. It was her innocence that made people want to possess her.

 

Yan Wei knew—Jiang Mi was drunk. Even though she stood firm and spoke clearly, she was drunk.

 

Because never before had she seen that kind of alpha assertiveness and aggression in Jiang Mi’s eyes.

 

This was the first time.

 

Something was stirring.

 

“Remember our first scene together?” Yan Wei asked.

 

“I remember.”

 

The first kiss scene between Qin Shui and Liang Yongping happened when Liang tried to leave and Qin stopped her at the door, demanding answers.

 

Yan Wei stared at her for a while. In the stillness of the night, she stepped in front of Jiang Mi:

 

“Do you like Bai Xiao?”

 

That sudden look of possessiveness and longing in her eyes made Jiang Mi’s mind blank for a second—Yan Wei had fully entered character.

 

One-second immersion. A terrifying skill.

 

The fact that Yan Wei agreed to rehearse stunned Jiang Mi.

 

But despite all that, she didn’t feel much happiness.

 

Because this meant that once again, Yan Wei had taken the initiative.

 

She shook her head.

 

“So, do you like Shen Ruoxi?” Yan Wei asked.

 

Jiang Mi blinked slowly, lost in messy thoughts, and replied, “Teacher Yan, you used the wrong phrasing.” She seemed a little more clear-headed now, or maybe not: “You should ask if I like you.”

 

Her gaze drifted from Yan Wei’s eyes to her lips.

 

Her stare felt almost tangible.

 

The sudden tightening of Yan Wei’s jawline betrayed a moment of tremble.

 

Yan Wei faltered — she couldn’t say her next line. She looked at Jiang Mi but didn’t say a word.

 

The scent of brandy pheromones lingered like floating clouds, the milky sweetness entangled with the fragrance of roses, silently enveloping the room. It was even more suffocating than the calm before a storm.

 

As if something uncontrollable was about to happen.

 

Suddenly, the soft sound of a door closing echoed from outside. Jiang Mi’s eyelid twitched — the absurd dream was broken. She didn’t meet Yan Wei’s gaze but turned her head and picked up her glass, taking a sip of floral tea.

 

The rose petals rolled over her tongue like remnants of reason. She exhaled slowly, fragrant breath escaping her lips, and realized her heart was pounding like she was having palpitations.

 

“I must have drunk too much and started rambling. Don’t mind me, Teacher Yan. It’s late. I won’t bother you anymore. And… thank you for bringing this to me.” Jiang Mi looked at the scroll as she spoke.

 

She reached out to open the door, only to find that Yan Wei was still standing at the entrance — just like Qin Shui in the scene.

 

She lifted her heavy head and met Yan Wei’s unreadable gaze.

 

“Ready to film again?”

 

“Mm.” Jiang Mi nodded. “I think I can now.”

 

The warm light from the lamp reflected in Yan Wei’s eyes. After a pause, she stepped aside.

 

“If you can’t handle alcohol, don’t drink it anymore.”

 

Jiang Mi’s hand tightened on the doorknob. “Mm… I usually only drink with Apple and them.” So it’s fine.

 

She waited a moment, but when Yan Wei said nothing else, she said, “Good night.”

 

The door closed.

 

In the hallway, only the soft sound of Jiang Mi’s footsteps remained.

 

— “Just over two months left until filming ends. Then everything will be over.”

 

Jiang Mi thought, Zhao Jia was right — she’d been absorbed into her character.

 

She really shouldn’t drink so carelessly again. Her mind became fuzzy. What did she even say to Yan Wei earlier? Jiang Mi shook her head, struggling to piece things together.

 

She truly wasn’t sober at that point.

 

When she reached the door and bumped into a worried Zhao Jia, Jiang Mi raised a hand in greeting and smiled, “Hi, my dearest agent lady.”

 

“Hi, my ass.” Zhao Jia smacked Jiang Mi’s arm. “Where did you go? You didn’t answer your phone! I was worried sick.”

 

As she spoke, she texted those who had asked about Jiang Mi’s whereabouts and pushed her back inside.

 

Jiang Mi cried out and hugged her arm, “Ow, that hurts!”

 

Zhao Jia looked at her speechlessly. Jiang Mi had a very unique physical trait — she was strong physically and mentally in every way… except when it came to alcohol. Just one drink and she’d flush red and become confused, especially with that sweet, innocent face. The worst part? Jiang Mi was a high-grade Alpha. If she accidentally released her pheromones, any Omega nearby would be affected.

 

Worst of all, she often didn’t remember anything the next day.

 

It was downright dangerous.

 

Zhao Jia said fiercely, “No using baby talk now!”

 

Then she lightly smacked Jiang Mi on the back. “You got that drunk and disappeared, wouldn’t answer your phone — do you know how worried I was? If someone had snapped photos, fine, but what if someone had taken you? What would I tell your mom and sister if something happened to you? What would I do, huh?”

 

Jiang Mi flopped onto the sofa, tilted her head back and said, “Sorry.”

 

“Where did you go?”

 

“I ran into Teacher Yan.”

 

Zhao Jia’s head throbbed. “You went to Yan Wei’s room looking like that?”

 

Jiang Mi nodded. “Mo Xi brought me something.”

 

“Mo Xi brought you something?” Zhao Jia mulled over that. “So Mo Xi brought it, and you went to Yan Wei’s room to get it? Isn’t Mo Xi the younger sister of that neighbor you mentioned?”

 

Jiang Mi paused for several seconds. “Ah…”

 

She had let something slip.

 

Zhao Jia crossed her arms and stood in front of Jiang Mi, her intuition sharp: “That neighbor of yours who’s also in the same industry… is that Yan Wei?”

 

Jiang Mi curled up on the sofa and mumbled something, but by the time Zhao Jia bent down to listen, she was already breathing deeply in sleep.

 

Zhao Jia took a deep breath, checked the time, and made a gesture as if to knock on her head.

 

“We’ll deal with this tomorrow.”

 

…

 

Jiang Mi didn’t remember much of what she said to Zhao Jia after returning to the room last night — not even going to Yan Wei’s room.

 

She woke up early to reduce swelling. Zhao Jia saw her zoning out on the sofa and said nothing, just left some fruit by the sink. “Want to do it yourself?”

 

“Yeah, might help clear my head.”

 

“Okay then.”

 

They had a simple lunch at the hotel and headed to the set. While waiting for the elevator, it stopped on the 20th floor, giving Jiang Mi a strange sense of foreboding.

 

The door opened — Yan Wei was alone inside.

 

Jiang Mi paused, then waved cheerfully like always: “Morning, Teacher Yan.”

 

Yan Wei looked at her. “Morning.”

 

“How’s your lower back?”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“Good. Let me know if you need anything.”

 

Yan Wei studied her for a few seconds, then said, “Mm.”

 

As the door was about to close, someone dashed to it. It reopened, and Shen Ruoxi stepped in, yawning and giving her assistant a thumbs-up. She looked into the elevator and exclaimed, “Ah! Mi-mi, and Teacher Yan too — what a coincidence!”

 

After greeting them, she naturally stood beside Jiang Mi. “I’m so tired. Are you okay?”

 

Jiang Mi replied that she was fine, hesitated, and then heard Shen Ruoxi ask: “Sweetie, where’s my juice? I need it to wake up.”

 

Zhao Jia handed her a cup from the bag and politely asked Yan Wei, “Would you like one too, Teacher Yan?”

 

“No, thank you.”

 

Only Jiang Mi’s thermos and a green icy juice remained in the bag — clearly, none was prepared for Yan Wei.

 

Of course not.

 

Jiang Mi thought, Yan Wei would never ask for anything. She wouldn’t want to seem annoying. Just like that small trinket — trying to give it away only resulted in it being thrown in the trash. She couldn’t afford to be thoughtless.

 

Shen Ruoxi sipped her drink. “This must be Mi-mi’s. Zhao’s are usually sour. Hers are sweeter.”

 

Zhao Jia laughed: “Exactly! Mi-mi even peeled the oranges herself.”

 

“I’m touched.”

 

Shen Ruoxi nudged Jiang Mi with her elbow: “We planned to gather again after next week’s red carpet. You in? Teacher Yan, how about you?”

 

Jiang Mi noticed that both she and Yan Wei glanced at the mirror’s reflection.

 

She answered first: “Funny coincidence, I already made plans. Maybe next time.”

 

She had, in fact — she and Apple had just talked about meeting after the red carpet.

 

Yan Wei also responded coolly: “I have plans too.”

 

“Aww, what a shame.” Shen Ruoxi didn’t seem surprised and turned to Jiang Mi, whispering: “You still owe me a meal, no backing out.”

 

Jiang Mi gave her an “OK” hand sign.

 

She wasn’t sure why, but several times she wanted to tell Shen Ruoxi to keep her voice down or change the subject — though it only lasted a moment. Why should I be afraid of what’s heard?

 

The elevator reached the basement. Jiang Mi and Shen Ruoxi stepped aside to let Yan Wei go first. Yan Wei didn’t protest and walked out.

 

Shen Ruoxi then invited Jiang Mi to ride in her car.

 

Jiang Mi declined softly, her voice floating like a dragonfly’s wings in the eerie air of the parking lot.

 

Just as Zhao Jia was about to close the door, someone knocked on the car window. The privacy screen lowered to reveal a polite driver.

 

Jiang Mi poked her head out curiously and heard:

 

“Excuse me, Ms. Jiang. Teacher Yan has invited you to ride in her car.”