After Becoming the Live-in Scummy Alpha, I Pamper Her with Real Strength - Chapter 11

He Song quickly withdrew her hand, but her movement was too sudden. Yu Dongdong leaned back against the sofa and let out a soft whimper.

Mo Qingran, however, remained unfazed, as if she hadn’t seen the ambiguous gesture between the two.

She walked toward the sofa, each click of her heels landing sharply in the silent room, echoing like thunder in He Song’s ears.

Without looking at He Song, Mo Qingran turned to Yu Dongdong and began rummaging through her bag. “Since you’re an Omega, an Omega-specific suppressant will work better.”

She found one and handed it to Yu Dongdong, but upon seeing her dazed and weak state, she frowned, tore open the plastic packaging, gently lifted her arm, and administered the injection herself.

Yu Dongdong’s heat cycles had always been unstable. Under company pressure, she had to conceal her status, posing as a Beta with no heat and no reaction to pheromones. She didn’t find it unreasonable—after all, the entertainment industry was a messy place, and pretending to be a Beta felt safer on many fronts.

She’d always been cautious, carefully checking the secondary genders of anyone she worked with and maintaining a strict distance. When faced with Alphas who casually spread pheromones around, she’d excuse herself to the bathroom to secretly inject a suppressant whenever she felt the slightest discomfort.

Over time, the frequency increased, her heats grew more irregular and unpredictable.

But today’s accident had caught her completely off guard. She’d already taken a shot in the morning and assumed filming would wrap by noon—so she didn’t bring an extra.

She hadn’t even managed to change into her costume before the heat slammed into her out of nowhere. Her phone was in the van, unreachable, and in her current state, there was no way she could go out in public.

What would happen if an Omega in heat wandered into a set full of people?

She’d crouched on the ground, hugging herself, unable to imagine the consequences. She heard people outside calling her name, but she didn’t dare respond, her body trembling as she cried silently.

Despair and helplessness wrapped around her like so many sleepless nights, and in the haze, she began to question everything: why she’d tried so hard to enter showbiz, why she’d dreamed so desperately of acting.

She remembered what the CEO had told her when she signed: “You’re an Omega. This industry isn’t for Omegas.”

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The pink liquid was injected, and the thick scent of gardenia in the air began to dissipate.

Yu Dongdong looked up from her daze and saw the woman who had suddenly appeared in front of her.

Elegant brows, porcelain skin, noble bearing with an edge of sharpness—her beauty was magnetic, like a debutante stepping out of a vintage magazine.

Was she an actress too?

“Did you call 120?” Mo Qingran asked, not even glancing at He Song, like it was just a passing question.

He Song replied, “I did. The ambulance should be here soon.”

Yu Dongdong’s eyes moved back and forth between the two women, trying to gauge their relationship. Somehow, even the pain in her leg felt a little less intense.

Mo Qingran said, “The cuts aren’t too deep, but you’ll need to stay in the hospital for a few days, or it might scar.”

Yu Dongdong blushed and nodded.

Mo Qingran stood up and headed for the door. Today she wore fitted blue jeans that hugged her curves and a silky white blouse layered with a V-neck sweater vest—completely different from her usual sharp business look.

He Song followed her sheepishly, twirling her hair with one hand. “I didn’t know Yu Dongdong was an Omega. I just happened to be there when she went into heat.”

Mo Qingran said nothing.

Panicking, He Song continued, “You saw her leg—it was bleeding everywhere after she fell. I just thought I should move her to the sofa to prevent secondary injury. I swear I didn’t do anything wrong.”

By the end, her tone had softened into something almost pleading.

Mo Qingran finally glanced at her. “Did I interrogate you?”

He Song shook her head.

“Then there’s no need to explain,” Mo Qingran said coldly. “Your private affairs have nothing to do with me, Miss He.”

Click, click—her heels tapped against the floor again as she walked ahead, eyes straight forward.

If He Song couldn’t tell she was angry by now, all her time spent around Mo Qingran had been in vain. Watching her walk away with that high, proud posture, He Song was suddenly reminded of her cat, Tangyuan.

Tangyuan is the white cat He Song keeps as a pet, named for the black sesame-like spot at the tip of its tail.

Despite its humble name, Tangyuan is anything but an ordinary cat.

It carries itself with a regal air, often strutting across He Song’s spacious balcony with its head held high, basking in the sunlight, stretching lazily, and exuding effortless elegance.

If He Song tried to scratch her head or chin, she’d swat at her with one paw.

Don’t touch me.

But He Song always found her cute anyway and would proceed to cuddle and pet her until she was satisfied.

Then, Tangyuan would puff up her fur and dart away like she’d been mortally offended, not speaking to He Song for three whole days.

He Song looked at Mo Qingran and almost burst out laughing. She was too proud to scold properly, so she just held it in and sulked.

“How is it none of your business?” He Song chased after her and whispered near her ear, “We’re getting married, remember? You have every right to manage my private life.”

Warm breath tickled her ear, and Mo Qingran’s earlobe flushed red. She glared at He Song. “It’s a contract marriage. It doesn’t affect you. Yu Dongdong is cute and sweet—exactly your type, isn’t she?”

Jealousy, unmistakably thick in the air.

He Song replied instantly, “Not my type. Don’t like her. It won’t happen.”

Mo Qingran crossed her arms, amused. “So you don’t like that type? There are all kinds in this industry. If you have a preference, I can introduce you to someone.”

He Song gritted her teeth. “I’m not interested. You don’t need to introduce anyone. I’m focusing on my career. Relationships aren’t on the table.”

Mo Qingran’s expression softened slightly. “Next time something like this happens, ask Lili. She’s a Beta—it’s safer. If anyone in the crew had seen you just now, you’d be trending by morning.”

She paused. “Though, given your track record, what’s one more scandal?”

“I really want to turn things around,” He Song said earnestly. “I’m committed to living a clean life. Married now—won’t even glance at anyone else.”

Mo Qingran chuckled but forced down the smile and kept up her aloof front.

He Song, meanwhile, was fuming inside. Where the hell was Lili? Wasn’t she the one who was supposed to bring the suppressant? How did it end up being Mo Qingran?

“What brings you to set today, Miss Mo?” she asked, noting the casual outfit—and then it hit her.

Mo Qingran said calmly, “Nothing much. Just thought I’d visit.”

He Song beamed so wide her grin nearly split her face—only to droop seconds later. “Yu Dongdong’s hurt. I doubt we’ll keep filming today.”

Mo Qingran glanced at her. “Didn’t you say you were moving? I’ll go with you.”

Just like that, He Song perked up again.

They had just reached the filming area. He Song spotted Director Yan talking with the cameraman and quickly ran over after excusing herself from Mo Qingran.

She briefly explained Yu Dongdong’s injury—leaving out the part about her heat—and just said she’d fallen and hurt her leg.

Director Yan paled and immediately summoned the crew’s first aid personnel to check on her.

An on-set injury was no joke. Delays were one thing, but real harm? That would be on him.

The set buzzed with commotion. Director Yan and Wu Qing started ushering people away, and since the next day was a scheduled break anyway, filming was officially wrapped for now.

He Song told Yu Dongdong’s assistant Mei Jie about the heat situation. Even though the suppressant had worked instantly, she couldn’t rule out complications.

Watching Mei Jie’s devastated expression, He Song couldn’t help thinking: the ABO system in this world is really inhumane.

Omegas had uncontrollable heat cycles, emitting pheromones and requiring constant access to suppressants—one injection to shut it all down.

Fever, weakness, fatigue—just part of the package.

Alphas had their own issues: susceptibility periods, animalistic impulses, violent tempers, and dangerous strength. Without an Omega to soothe them, they’d lose control.

And when that happened? Another injection.

Suppressants were like miracle drugs.

But in the original book, He Song remembered the warning: overuse caused resistance. Heats became more frequent, more erratic. The body would eventually break down.

Yu Dongdong, pretending to be a Beta? Probably a textbook case.

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By the time Yu Dongdong was safe in the ambulance, Director Yan finally waved everyone off and whispered to Wu Qing, “You know how expensive location rentals are per day?”

Wu Qing said, “The production budget can handle it. The investors are generous. You’re a big-name director now. Stop being so stingy—it’s embarrassing.”

Yan Zhao: “Stingy? I call it cost-effective.”

There was a famous meme in the industry involving Yan Zhao and his money woes. It came from an interview after filming On the Sea.

Reporter: “What’s your biggest takeaway from this production?”

Yan Zhao: “Renting the yacht cost money. Hiring actors cost money. Building sets cost money. Filming is so expensive.”

And he didn’t say it as a joke—he looked genuinely pained, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

Naturally, #YanZhaoCheap and #YanZhaoFilmingCosts soon trended online, cracking up fans.

Wu Qing knew this wasn’t new. Back when they were fresh out of college, they had no fame, no connections, no budget. They scraped together funds by editing videos and freelancing just to shoot low-cost shorts.

Hiring real actors? Too expensive. They’d roam the streets like talent scouts, trying to find someone who looked the part.

Every penny counted. Those were the days of instant noodles and crew lunchboxes.

Year after year, they clawed their way up.

Wu Qing said, “You’re not that broke anymore. If a take isn’t perfect, we can afford a second one. People are lining up to fund your vision.”

Yan Zhao chuckled. “All for the sake of art.”

Wu Qing glanced over. “Yu Dongdong didn’t get hurt on purpose. Don’t go saying anything dumb when she’s back.”

Yan Zhao was about to retort when he saw two women walking side by side down the steps.

Wu Qing asked, “The woman next to He Song—you know her?”

Yan Zhao rubbed his chin and grinned. “Now this is interesting. I thought all those rumors were just gossip. Turns out, He Song’s full of surprises.”

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Author’s Note:

He Song: I missed my chance to look good in front of my wife.