After Becoming an Alpha, I Marked My Nemesis - Chapter 29

The next day, Zhou Qian repeated what Song Luoxue had said before. Luoxue had mentioned having mental health issues, so Zhou Qian was taking her to the hospital for a check-up.

Song Luoxue’s mood swings were notorious. When she heard Zhou Qian wanted to take her to a psychiatric hospital, her face immediately darkened. “You suspect I’m mentally ill?”

Seeing her sudden anger, Zhou Qian quickly reassured her, “No… Luo Xue, it’s not like that. You were the one who said you suspected you had Dissociative Identity Disorder. Besides, this hospital visit is just a routine check-up. If there’s nothing wrong, all the better.”

Song Luoxue paused, vaguely recalling that she had deliberately said those things before to dispel Zhou Qian’s suspicions.

Fine, let’s go for the check-up then. Song Luoxue was confident she could either convince the doctor to diagnose her as mentally ill or arrange things with Cheng Cheng beforehand. That way, Zhou Qian would finally stop being suspicious.

Come to think of it, the female supporting character in this novel seemed much smarter than she had imagined.

Upon hearing Song Luoxue agree to go to the hospital, Zhou Qian immediately rushed her to the city’s Mental Health Center. After Song Luoxue filled out a simple registration form, the doctor handed her the test questionnaire. As Song Luoxue accepted the questionnaire, which contained questions about Dissociative Identity Disorder, a faint, unreadable smile played on her lips.

She had completed such psychological tests more than once, so she knew exactly how to answer the questions.

Question 1: Do you frequently experience memory loss?

Just as Song Luoxue was about to begin the computer-based test, she suddenly heard a woman’s voice: “Luo Xue! Is that you, Luo Xue?”

Puzzled, Song Luoxue looked around until she realized the voice belonged to a doctor in a white medical uniform.

The doctor had her hair tied up in a high ponytail, giving her a spirited and energetic appearance. It was clear the woman recognized Song Luoxue, but Song Luoxue didn’t recognize her at all. What if she was someone the original owner of this body had known?

After saying that, the woman fell silent, perhaps due to workplace rules against chatting with outsiders. She waited until Song Luoxue had finished all the questions before stepping forward and speaking to her. “Luoxue, it’s me! Don’t you recognize me?”

As she spoke, she removed her mask. “It’s me, Lu Sheng! We were classmates in high school. Don’t you remember me?”

Song Luoxue blinked, frozen in place for a moment. Then, as if a memory had surfaced, she reacted with a start. “Oh… it’s you.”

Hearing that Song Luoxue still remembered her, Lu Sheng’s face lit up with joy. “That’s amazing! You still remember me! I’m your biggest fan!”

Song Luoxue offered a polite smile. “Is that so? It’s my honor.”

Oblivious to the strange expression on Song Luoxue’s face, Lu Sheng continued cheerfully, “Our classmates have gone into all sorts of fields, but you’re the only one who became a major star. You have no idea—you’re the school’s only goddess now! So many seniors look up to you as their ultimate goal.”

After hearing Lu Sheng’s words, Song Luoxue carefully considered the several “only”s she had used.

Song Luoxue smiled again. “Really? If you see those people, please tell them I’ve retired from the industry. Everyone should focus on their studies and work—after all, I’m just an ordinary person now.”

Lu Sheng had never met someone so shamelessly humble.

“You call yourself ordinary?” Lu Sheng stared at Song Luoxue in astonishment.

Song Luoxue gave an awkward laugh. “Yes, I’m not a celebrity anymore. I’m just an ordinary person now.”

Hearing this, Lu Sheng’s face showed a hint of regret. “Seriously, how could you retire so suddenly? We all love you! Your movies were amazing, and you had almost no negative reviews in the industry. Why would you make such a rash decision?”

As if struck by inspiration, Song Luoxue’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Exactly. If I could truly think things through, I wouldn’t be here.”

Lu Sheng froze for a long moment before finally realizing—Oh right, this is the Mental Health Center!

Realizing she might have said something inappropriate, Lu Sheng carefully said, “Um… Luo Xue, there’s no hardship in life you can’t overcome. Many things pass if you just think them through. Don’t dwell on things too much. If acting is causing you too much stress, maybe you should try to relax a bit.”

Song Luoxue’s lips curled into a sly smile of satisfaction. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I’m thinking now.”

Perfect! She now thinks I’m completely insane!

Song Luoxue recalled Lu Sheng’s earlier words and found something still amiss. “By the way, when we meet again, please call me ‘Song-classmate.’ I don’t like people being too familiar with me; it makes me feel like they’re crossing boundaries.”

Lu Sheng froze again, then forced an awkward smile. “Right, Song-classmate… I’ll remember that.”

As she began typing on the form, her eyes landed on the title: “Dissociative Identity Disorder Assessment.”

The unexpected encounter with Song Luoxue had already startled her, but learning that Song Luoxue might have Dissociative Identity Disorder was even more shocking.

Wait, at this moment, she noticed the test result on the form: 80%.

If she hadn’t answered the questionnaire randomly, then Song Luoxue almost certainly had Dissociative Identity Disorder.

No wonder! No wonder she was so eager to leave the entertainment industry. It turned out she had this condition.

Lu Sheng now looked at Song Luoxue with deep sympathy, and Song Luoxue, noticing the subtle shift in her expression, immediately understood what she was thinking.

Song Luoxue didn’t exchange any more pleasantries. She took the form from Lu Sheng and prepared to move on to the next consultation room.

But just as she stepped out of the room, Zhou Qian materialized before her like a silent ghost. Song Luoxue’s eyes met Zhou Qian’s, and the sudden appearance startled her.

Zhou Qian didn’t waste time on small talk. She pointed at the questionnaire form in Song Luoxue’s hand and said, “Let me see that.”

Song Luoxue paused slightly at Zhou Qian’s words, then gave a wry smile. “You rushed all the way from the outpatient clinic to the fifth floor of the treatment center just to see the results of this questionnaire?”

Zhou Qian hadn’t expected Song Luoxue to be so sensitive. She quickly shook her head. “No, I was just worried about your health. I need to know immediately if anything happens to you so I can…”

Before Zhou Qian could finish, Song Luoxue interjected, “So you can know when I’m going to die and inherit my fortune?”

Zhou Qian froze, stunned.

What’s going on?

Hadn’t she already made it clear to Song Luoxue that she wasn’t after her money? Why was Song Luoxue still suspicious? Had she never believed her from the beginning?

Zhou Qian’s face instantly darkened.

Seeing Zhou Qian’s displeasure, Song Luoxue forced an awkward laugh. “Why so serious? I was just joking.”

At these words, Zhou Qian clenched her fists tightly.

Even though she had been forced to transmigrate into the novel and had to win over the female protagonist due to the original plot, she was still a living, breathing person!

Zhou Qian’s pride was stronger than anyone else’s. She wanted to win over Song Luoxue quickly to free herself from this situation, but she wanted to do it with dignity, not by being constantly suspected and then dismissed with a casual “I was just joking.”

Seeing that Zhou Qian’s expression hadn’t changed, Song Luoxue’s smile vanished instantly. What she had said earlier was true—the novel did portray Zhou Qian as coveting the original female protagonist’s wealth. She was merely stating a fact, so why did Zhou Qian’s disappointed gaze and expression make her feel so guilty?

Song Luoxue reached out to take Zhou Qian’s hand, but this time, Zhou Qian refused.

Zhou Qian rarely rejected Song Luoxue. Seeing her like this, Song Luoxue felt a vague sense that Zhou Qian was genuinely angry.

After taking the test questionnaire from Song Luoxue, Zhou Qian’s brow furrowed so deeply it resembled a twisted hemp rope. The results indicated an 80% probability that Song Luoxue had Dissociative Identity Disorder, meaning her current words and actions were likely not her own.

That’s not right.

If Song Luoxue truly had Dissociative Identity Disorder, then her body must house two distinct personalities: the gentle and serene Song Luoxue, the White Moonlight of everyone’s dreams, and another who would lash out at Zhou Qian at any moment.

Zhou Qian couldn’t deny her deep affection for the kind and gentle Song Luoxue. Yet she also found herself drawn to the Song Luoxue who, despite her frequent suspicions, would cling to her and whisper her name.

Am I really dating two different personalities right now?

Since the test questionnaire wasn’t definitive, Zhou Qian continued taking Song Luoxue to consult with a psychologist.

“Have you ever experienced brief periods of amnesia, waking up with no memory of what you did during that time?” the psychologist asked.

Song Luoxue nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

“Could you elaborate on that? What exactly happened?”

Zhou Qian watched from the side as Song Luoxue subtly signaled the psychologist. “I can’t discuss this with her present.”

The psychologist nodded and turned to Zhou Qian. “Are you a family member of the patient?”

Zhou Qian had been puzzled when they first entered. Typically, psychologists ask accompanying individuals about their relationship to the patient before questioning the patient themselves. Why was this question being asked now?

Zhou Qian nodded. “Yes, I’m her girlfriend.”

A faint smile flickered across Song Luoxue’s face. Even though Zhou Qian had been angry earlier, he still had to acknowledge her as his girlfriend, didn’t he?

The psychologist frowned. “Are there any other family members present?”

Zhou Qian paused, recalling a plot point from the original novel. Song Luoxue was an orphan.

Her parents abandoned her when she was just three months old. She grew up in an orphanage until she was ten, when her nightmare began: her adoptive parents took her in.

Their motives were clear: they had a good-for-nothing son who was more trouble than he was worth. They adopted Song Luoxue to ensure someone would care for them in their old age. After graduating high school, Song Luoxue fled to a big city alone. Fortunately, she was discovered by a talent scout. With her gentle, serene demeanor and striking beauty, combined with a natural aptitude for acting, she quickly rose to prominence.

But she never returned to her adoptive parents, treating them as if they didn’t exist.

Though Zhou Qian had been angry earlier, the thought of Song Luoxue’s traumatic past stirred a pang of sympathy. She looked at the psychologist and said, “Yes, I’m her family.”

Song Luoxue froze, her expression shifting slightly.

Family?

Did Zhou Qian understand the weight of that word? How could she say it so casually?

The psychologist’s brow remained furrowed. “Alright. I need to speak with the patient alone now. Would you mind stepping out for a moment?”

Zhou Qian turned to Song Luoxue and whispered, “I’ll be waiting outside. Call me if you need anything.”

Song Luoxue’s head snapped up at the words.

Everything Zhou Qian had done seemed to be for her sake. But unfortunately, in the novel, Zhou Qian was the quintessential villainess. Otherwise, Song Luoxue might have actually liked her.

Song Luoxue gave a curt reply: “Mm.”

Zhou Qian left the consultation room.

After Zhou Qian’s departure, the psychologist attempted to ask the same question again, but Song Luoxue suddenly adopted a grave expression. “Doctor, there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Seeing the patient’s sudden change in demeanor, the psychologist sensed the matter was serious. “Yes… please go on.”

Zhou Qian’s lips curved slightly. “Is there any way to get a certificate of mental illness?”

The psychologist shook his head vigorously. “If you genuinely have a condition, then of course.”