After Becoming an Alpha, I Marked My Nemesis - Chapter 21

Zhou Qian swallowed hard, her throat dry. She desperately wanted to scoop up Song Luoxue, bite into the nape of her neck, mark her, claim her.

But what was their relationship now?

They had agreed to draw a clear line between them. If Zhou Qian marked Song Luoxue now, how would Song Luoxue react when she realized Zhou Qian wasn’t the White Moonlight she had imagined?

Zhou Qian had to admit that Song Luoxue was undeniably alluring. But survival mattered more. If she marked Song Luoxue as she had in the original novel, her fate would be utterly tragic.

The air hung thick with the mingled scents of roses and camellias. Song Luoxue, now aware of Zhou Qian’s released pheromones, turned her face away, her vision blurring. “Mark me quickly,” she gasped, “or I’ll die.”

Zhou Qian’s gaze drifted to Song Luoxue’s flushed cheeks. She desperately wanted to push her away, but the damned pheromone setting had her rooted in place, as if bewitched by Song Luoxue’s sweet, intoxicating scent. Song Luoxue sat up slightly and began gently kissing Zhou Qian’s cheek.

Zhou Qian took a deep breath, then, as if having made up her mind, forcefully pushed Song Luoxue away. Song Luoxue, lost in the intensity of the moment, suddenly found her rationality returning when Zhou Qian pushed her away.

She had indeed mistaken Zhou Qian for her counterpart from that other world. But the moment Zhou Qian pushed her away, she snapped back to reality. The person before her would forever remain merely a substitute for her beloved, no matter how similar they looked.

Song Luoxue’s heart raced, her vision blurred, and she began to gasp for breath. “Zhou Qian… I feel so awful! I really feel terrible. Come here and hold me.”

Zhou Qian, who had nearly succumbed to the pheromones, now stood with her back to Song Luoxue. In the vast, empty room, Zhou Qian could hear every rise and fall of Song Luoxue’s ragged breathing with painful clarity.

Song Luoxue wasn’t trying to seduce Zhou Qian with these words; her body truly felt unbearable. In this world, Omegas without a temporary mark or soothing touch from their Alphas during their heat cycles suffered terribly.

The intertwined pheromones grew increasingly potent. Zhou Qian knew that if she didn’t leave quickly, she would be overwhelmed by this strange force and do something terrible to Song Luoxue. In the time since transmigrating into this world, Zhou Qian had researched the ABO dynamics and understood how much Song Luoxue must be suffering right now.

Song Luoxue clutched her chest, feeling as if her body were burning from within.

“I’ll go get you an inhibitor right away!” Zhou Qian said, hurrying toward the stairs.

But before she could move, Song Luoxue’s hoarse voice roared from behind her: “Do you despise me that much?!”

The raw, desperate sound stopped Zhou Qian in her tracks. Her body moved as if against her will, drawn back toward Song Luoxue. Song Luoxue lowered her head, clutching her chest, her voice thick with pain. “Do you hate me so much? I’m in so much pain… I’m begging you like this… Why won’t you mark me? Don’t you love me?”

Just as Song Luoxue felt she was about to suffocate, a sharp sting pierced her neck. Zhou Qian embraced her from behind, leaving her mark on Song Luoxue’s nape.

Song Luoxue stared in disbelief, her eyes wide. Isn’t this exactly what I wanted? She had wanted Zhou Qian to mark her, even going so far as to throw away all her inhibitors. Now that she had achieved her goal, why was she so shocked?

After briefly marking Song Luoxue, Zhou Qian gently stroked her face. “It’s not that I dislike you. I’m just afraid…”

Song Luoxue could feel Zhou Qian’s hands trembling. She reached out with her own weak hand and grasped Zhou Qian’s wrist. “Afraid of what?”

Zhou Qian lifted her head slightly, meeting her gaze. “Perhaps… it’s not that I disdain you, but that you’ve fallen for the wrong person?”

Zhou Qian’s words struck Song Luoxue like a dagger to the heart. Her pupils constricted sharply, and she stared at Zhou Qian with a complex expression, unable to utter a single word.

It’s not that I fell for the wrong person. It’s that I never had a choice. Even if the White Moonlight of her dreams truly existed, she wouldn’t have chosen them.

Compelled by an irresistible impulse, Song Luoxue wrapped her arms around Zhou Qian’s neck. She slowly climbed up, pressing her lips against Zhou Qian’s in a tender kiss.

“At least… I don’t regret it now,” she murmured before losing herself in a passionate embrace with Zhou Qian.

Chaos. Utter chaos.

Zhou Qian woke up the next day feeling utterly disoriented. She couldn’t recall the circumstances under which she had marked Song Luoxue the previous night, but she knew that once an Alpha marked an Omega, they were bound to stay by the marked Omega’s side.

This meant that every time Song Luoxue entered her heat cycle, Zhou Qian would have to be there, ready to comfort her.

The thought made Zhou Qian want to slap herself. Zhou Qian, you idiot! How could you mark Song Luoxue? If she ever finds her White Moonlight, Chu Ruobing, you’re doomed!

Lying beside Zhou Qian, Song Luoxue, still half-asleep, heard the smack and opened her eyes to look at her. “Are you beating yourself up out of guilt?”

Zhou Qian snapped out of her daze at the sound of her voice. She forced a bitter smile. “Yeah… yeah, I guess so. After all, we’re not even married yet.”

Song Luoxue chuckled at this. She shifted closer, wrapping her arms around Zhou Qian as if savoring the lingering scent of her rose pheromones.

Zhou Qian was pinned down by Song Luoxue, unable to move. She forced an awkward smile. “Luo Xue, your cold seems much better today.”

Song Luoxue raised a finger to her lips, gesturing for silence. “Shh—let’s cherish this rare peaceful morning. I just want to hold you and lie here for a while. Don’t talk.”

Zhou Qian paused, then obediently settled back against the soft pillow. Song Luoxue held her close, saying nothing.

Song Luoxue found the temporary marking process in this world rather simplistic, lacking the elaborate procedures she was accustomed to. This left her feeling unsatisfied—or perhaps, more accurately, unfulfilled.

After meditating for a while while holding Zhou Qian, Song Luoxue suddenly recalled Zhou Qian’s earlier words. “Did you mean you want to go get our marriage certificate?”

Zhou Qian nearly leaped out of bed at the question, her mouth agape in shock. “You just publicly announced our relationship to the media! Wouldn’t it be a bit rushed to get married now?”

Song Luoxue frowned deeply at her words. “Didn’t you say we haven’t gotten our marriage certificate yet? Do you think it’s wrong to be intimate with me before we’re officially married? If so, why don’t you just completely mark me? Then we can get our certificate legitimately.”

Zhou Qian gasped at Song Luoxue’s suggestion. Hey, hey! Only your White Moonlight can completely mark you!

Zhou Qian now suspected she’d transmigrated into a fake novel. The plot had completely gone off the rails, like a wild horse breaking free from its reins.

“We don’t have to get our certificate right now. Let’s wait a while. Besides, this is the peak of your career. Publicly revealing our relationship has already damaged your reputation. I don’t want anything about me to negatively affect you.”

Song Luoxue nodded thoughtfully and sighed deeply. “Oh… so that’s what you’re worried about. I was planning to announce this later, but since you brought it up, I’ll tell you now: I’m planning to hold a press conference in a few days to announce my official retirement from the entertainment industry. I won’t be filming any more dramas after that.”

Song Luoxue’s announcement about getting married had already stunned Zhou Qian, but now she was saying she was retiring from acting altogether?!

Was she hearing things wrong?

The smile froze on Zhou Qian’s face for a long moment. She finally looked at Song Luoxue with a hint of disbelief. “Luo… Luoxue, are you joking? You’re the Three Golden Crowns Best Actress! How could you just stop acting?”

Song Luoxue chuckled. “Exactly! Since I’ve already won every major award in the country, there’s no point in continuing. Now my focus is entirely on you. You’ll have to work hard too, you know. You still need to win all the awards I’ve already claimed.”

She’s gone mad! Completely mad!

Does she even realize what she’s saying?

Winning all the awards doesn’t mean she’s made enough money, does it? The entertainment industry is a fickle place. If Song Luoxue stops acting, she’ll likely be forgotten in a few years. Can she really bear to give up all that fame and fortune?

Besides, in the novel, Song Luoxue’s exit from the industry was marked by scandal, bankruptcy, and a suicide attempt by jumping into a river, which triggered her subsequent revenge plot. The current storyline clearly doesn’t support the development of those later events.

Zhou Qian had initially believed that knowing the novel’s plot in advance would allow her to navigate this world with ease. However, she now found herself completely lost, unable to grasp the story’s direction or even understand Song Luoxue’s true nature.

After learning about Song Luoxue’s decision to retire from the entertainment industry, Zhou Qian froze in shock for a long moment before finally speaking slowly, “Luo Xue… are you really sure about this? I think you should reconsider…”

Song Luoxue smiled at Zhou Qian’s panicked expression. “It’s my decision to retire, not yours. Why are you so flustered?”

Zhou Qian quickly replied, “No… I’m just advising you to think it over carefully. After all, you’ve worked so hard to get where you are today.”

Song Luoxue chuckled again. “So, do you think it was difficult for me to get here myself, or do you think the fame and fortune I’ve gained were hard-earned? If I retire, I’ll lose all that, and you won’t be able to get any more from me, will you?”