After Being Bitten By Top-Tier O, Flop A Went Viral - Chapter 10

10: A Moment of Unbalanced Heartbeat

After a flurry of work, the originally messy classroom was now spotless. Once everything was finally tidied up, Yan Yuzhen flopped onto a chair and whined in a spoiled tone, “I haven’t done housework in so long—it’s even more exhausting than dancing.”

Apart from Dai Yuchen, everyone else was amused by her childish demeanor. Yan Qing chuckled, “I saw you bossing Jin Shuo around quite happily, though.”

Jin Shuo, who clearly knew Yan Qing, didn’t even give her a cold glance despite the teasing. He just muttered, “Please don’t make fun of me.”

Just as the atmosphere was warm and cheerful, a tall woman in a flamboyant dress walked into the classroom. She smiled at the group and said, “Hello, everyone! I’m Mi Sike, the host of this season’s show. Here, you can call me Teacher Mi.”

Qin Que recognized her—she had also been the host for the first two seasons of Destined. Her main responsibilities were announcing game rules, assigning tasks to the guests, and mediating when conflicts arose (or stirring up drama when things were too peaceful).

Her role was all about keeping the energy lively.

“Alright,” Mi Sike clapped her hands, “please take your seats first. I’ll go over the rules for this episode.”

Qin Que had originally planned to sit in the back, but she noticed that the desks were all paired up in rows, with the middle row having exactly six seats for three pairs.

The other guests naturally sat together, so if she sat alone in the back…

Yan Qing would be left sitting by herself.

At that moment, Yan Qing, who had already taken a seat by the window, turned to look at her. Her slender brows arched slightly as she tapped the empty spot beside her with a curled finger.

Qin Que hurried over and sat down.

Yan Qing seemed a little unhappy.

Her heart was still pounding nervously when Yan Qing suddenly leaned in and whispered in her ear, “You weren’t actually planning to leave me sitting here alone, were you?”

The warm breath against her ear made Qin Que shiver. She didn’t dare look at the face so close to hers. “N-no, of course not.”

“That’s good. I thought I’d scared you again.” The woman’s voice drifted away, and Qin Que finally dared to sneak a glance.

Yan Qing propped her chin on one hand, gazing lazily at the host on the podium as if she hadn’t taken the earlier exchange seriously at all.

Qin Que exhaled in relief, then immediately scolded herself.

She wasn’t usually this awkward—it was just that around Yan Qing, she couldn’t help but feel nervous.

She had imagined meeting Yan Qing before—perhaps after she’d made a name for herself in the industry, appearing at the same event, waiting for a free moment to ask for an autograph and say, I’m your fan.

That would have been the end of it.

The idols of one’s youth were supposed to be as distant as the moon. But that accidental mark from a few days ago had disrupted everything like some cruel joke.

She had been bitten by Yan Qing, had all sorts of inappropriate dreams about her, and now had to pair up with her on a dating show.

Respect for her idol, desire for the one who marked her, and the reality of being forced together—these three emotions tangled inside her, leaving her utterly lost.

“First, the basic rules: Each pair of guests has their own dedicated camera and livestream channel. Viewers can choose which stream to watch and send virtual gifts. Every time a viewer enters a stream, sends a comment, or gifts, it generates ‘Sweetness Points.’ The pair with the highest Sweetness Points each day gets to complete an additional audience-voted task for extra rewards. And the pair with the highest total Sweetness Points after ten days wins a grand mystery prize from the show.” Mi Sike reached behind her flying drone camera and tapped it. The lens emitted a blue glow and transformed into a projector.

The six guests turned to look at the blackboard at the back of the classroom, where Destined’s live interface was now displayed. They could clearly see the popularity of the three streams and the chaotic barrage of comments.

Stream #2, featuring Qin Que and Yan Qing, had more Sweetness Points than the other two combined. It was obvious that even with Qin Que as a mere accessory, Yan Qing effortlessly dominated.

Comment 1: We’re on TV, we’re on TV!

Comment 2: Yan Qing, blink twice if you’re being held against your will!

Comment 3: I want to marry Yan Qing, I want to marry Yan Qing! Qin Que, draw your sword—this grudge over stealing my wife will not stand!

Comment 4: Yan Yuzhen, have some dignity! Stop throwing yourself at people, I’m begging you!

Comment 5: Dai Yuchen’s fine, except for his mouth. One more word against Si Si and I’ll blacklist you for life!

Dai Yuchen’s face darkened. Nie Sijun looked uneasy. Yan Yuzhen pouted. Jin Shuo remained expressionless. Yan Qing turned to Qin Que with an amused smirk.

Qin Que could only offer an awkward smile in return.

Fear.jpg

“Next are the specific rules for this episode,” Mi Sike clapped to regain everyone’s attention. “Please take out the phones provided by the show and open your personal interface.”

Qin Que pulled out her phone. The home screen had only two icons: one for the camera controller and the other labeled Personal. Opening it revealed three apps—Contacts, Wallet, and Tasks.

Contacts was a messaging app similar to WeChat, containing a group chat titled Class 1-1 and individual profiles for the other guests.

Wallet displayed her name and balance: 50 Campus Coins.

The Tasks section was still blank.

“Campus Coins are the only currency you can use during this filming period. Please use them wisely,” Mi Sike emphasized. “Of course, the show won’t starve you, but if you run out of Campus Coins, you’ll have to make do with the cafeteria’s free plain rice. The only way to earn Campus Coins is by completing tasks. Let me demonstrate…”

She tapped on her phone a few times, and Qin Que’s device vibrated. A new message appeared in the Tasks section:

Main Task #1: Exam
Students who score 80 or above will receive 20 Campus Coins. Those below 80 will face punishment.

Under the stunned gazes of the guests, Mi Sike pulled out a stack of test papers from her bag. “Don’t worry, the questions aren’t difficult. The total score is 100, and you’ll have 100 minutes to complete it. If there are no questions, we’ll begin now.”

The test wasn’t hard at all.

Qin Que skimmed through the questions first. The exam only covered Chinese and math, and the difficulty level wouldn’t even rank among standard high school freshman exercises.

She relaxed slightly, only to notice that everyone else looked tense.

Except for Yan Qing.

The woman wasn’t even looking at the test—she was too busy spinning a pen between her fingers.

The ordinary pen hovered at her fingertips, spinning so fast it nearly blurred, like a fidget spinner.

That was far more impressive than any exam.

Qin Que was genuinely impressed. Yan Qing flicked her wrist, catching the pen, and turned to her with a serious expression. “Is it difficult?”

“N-not really?”

Qin Que wasn’t sure why she suddenly looked so solemn and answered hesitantly.

Yan Qing nodded, then placed a hand on her shoulder, her eyes full of sincerity. “Then I’m counting on you. I really don’t want to eat plain rice.”

“Yan Qing, no disturbing your deskmate during the exam.”

“Got it.”

Qin Que: “…”

Her earlier confidence instantly turned into crushing pressure.

The spot where Yan Qing had touched her shoulder tingled faintly, as if burning—but the other woman had only given her a light pat. If anyone was overreacting, it was her.

She was starting to regret joining this show.

How was she supposed to survive the next month like this?

Well, since she was already here… might as well focus on the test.

Especially since Yan Qing was counting on her.

Qin Que pushed aside her distractions and fully immersed herself in the exam.

As it turned out, for someone like Qin Que—who had been a top student since childhood—even after years in the workforce, the muscle memory from endless test-taking was more than enough to handle this.

After finishing, she estimated her score to be around 95 or higher.

When she looked up, she met Yan Qing’s amused eyes.

The other guests were still biting their pens in deep thought, but Yan Qing had already turned in her paper at some point.

And had been watching her for who knew how long.

Qin Que’s face warmed. “I did… okay,” she whispered.

Yan Qing suppressed a laugh. “I can tell. You must’ve been a model student growing up.”

The two were promptly scolded for whispering, and Mi Sike collected Qin Que’s test. Only an hour had passed. Yan Qing let out a small yawn and poked Qin Que’s hand. “I’m gonna nap. Wake me when they announce the scores.”

Qin Que stiffened at the touch. “O-okay!”

And then, right in front of Qin Que, the cameras, the host, and the other four guests still working on their tests, Yan Qing laid her head down and fell asleep.

Qin Que noticed Mi Sike’s complicated gaze but figured she was too tired to scold them again.

Without Yan Qing’s intense stare, Qin Que finally relaxed a little—enough to steal a few glances at her.

For a female omega, Yan Qing wasn’t particularly slender—at least compared to the delicate, almost fragile-looking omegas Qin Que had worked with before. Yan Qing was healthier, more proportionate.

Qin Que had once seen Yan Qing in an evening gown—her exposed arms bore subtle traces of muscle, a testament to her strength.

Though not as defined as Qin Que’s own alpha physique, that was just the natural difference between alpha and omega builds. After all, Yan Qing had effortlessly restrained her during her out-of-control episode.

Yet even so, with her slender frame curled up on the desk, face buried in her arms, Yan Qing looked small and soft.

Her chestnut hair spilled over the blue-and-white school uniform, fluffy from a recent wash, giving off an inexplicably touchable vibe—like it was just begging to be ruffled.

Qin Que quietly averted her gaze, still feeling a strange sense of unreality.

The person sitting next to her… was really Yan Qing, right?

And the even weirder part? She actually found her… cute.

Twenty minutes later, Yan Yuzhen, Jin Shuo, and Nie Sijun handed in their tests one after another. Only Dai Yuchen remained, frowning as he scribbled on his paper.

His expression, as if he were solving some Olympiad-level problem, made Qin Que doubt herself.

Was the test actually that hard? Did I underestimate it?

Finally, with just three minutes left, Dai Yuchen turned in his paper with visible relief.

Mi Sike took the tests outside and returned in less than five minutes.

“Now, let’s announce the scores.”

Qin Que wanted to wake Yan Qing but wasn’t sure how.

Poking or patting her like Yan Qing had done to her was out of the question. Calling out to her probably wouldn’t work either—Mi Sike’s voice was already plenty loud.

As she hesitated, Yan Qing sat up on her own. Still drowsy, she glanced at Qin Que’s frozen hand and sighed. “Were you planning to wake me up by fanning me with your flailing?”

Qin Que: “…Sorry.”

“First place: Qin Que, 98 points.”

Thankfully, Mi Sike’s announcement cut through the awkwardness.

Everyone turned to look at her. Yan Yuzhen couldn’t help but exclaim, “Wow! A straight-A student!”

It had been years since Qin Que last received this kind of academic praise, but she was no stranger to the attention. She maintained a modest smile as she retrieved her test—sure enough, she’d lost two points on a Chinese reading comprehension question.

Yan Qing, still lazily slumped on the desk, reached over and tugged the test toward herself with two fingers. Her indigo eyes skimmed over the questions like a cat lazily watching fish in a pond.

Qin Que unconsciously straightened her posture, though she couldn’t stop the corners of her lips from curling up.

At least she hadn’t failed Yan Qing’s expectations.

She hadn’t felt this proud even when she ranked in the top ten of her city’s college entrance exams.

“Second place: Nie Sijun, 88 points.”

Nie Sijun didn’t react to the others’ looks—her first instinct was to glance at Dai Yuchen.

The man’s face was stormy, and he turned away in clear displeasure.

Despite scoring second-highest, Nie Sijun hung her head like she’d done something wrong as she went to collect her test.

Yan Qing sat up fully and handed Qin Que’s test back.

Qin Que noticed she seemed a little upset.

Not because the ever-smiling woman’s expression had gone blank, but because the wine-like scent of her pheromones had shifted slightly.

Normally, unless in heat or deliberately releasing high concentrations of pheromones, alphas and omegas couldn’t easily detect each other’s scents unless they were extremely close—let alone discern subtle changes.

But as the one who’d been marked, Qin Que could clearly sense it—the originally crisp wine aroma had gained a faint bitterness.

The change even slightly affected her own mood. A bitter taste rose in her mouth, and an inexplicable irritation settled in.

For the first time, she truly understood what her biology textbook meant by “the marked are influenced by the marker’s pheromones.”

If an alpha, whose marking effects lasted only a tenth as long as an omega’s, could be affected this much, no wonder so many omegas nowadays refused to be marked…

It was practically tying one’s quality of life to another person.

With that thought, Qin Que’s gaze toward Nie Sijun couldn’t help but fill with pity.

Even from this brief interaction, it was obvious that Dai Yuchen was nothing like the “Mr. Dai” described in Nie Sijun’s blog posts.

If he was this upset, his pheromones must already be affecting Nie Sijun directly.

…

Yan Qing had known from the guest list that not everyone on this show would be pleasant company. But she usually preferred to go with the flow and rarely used her influence to interfere with filming. Besides, this was a good opportunity for Nie Sijun to return to the public eye, so she hadn’t kicked Dai Yuchen off outright.

This is what I get for trying to be nice—now I have to watch this spoiled brat throw a tantrum.

Rubbing her temples, Yan Qing was about to calm herself when she suddenly noticed the pheromones of the person beside her shift slightly.

The sweet, milky scent, usually faint beneath her own, carried a new hint of bitterness—as if responding to her mood.

She looked up and met the alpha’s clear black eyes, which were fixed on Nie Sijun with quiet sympathy.

This kind of wordless solidarity was rare.

Yan Qing’s mood improved almost instantly.

The bitterness in her pheromones faded abruptly, and Qin Que instinctively turned to Yan Qing—only to be met with the woman’s smiling eyes.

Her heartbeat stuttered for a moment.

Why did Yan Qing suddenly cheer up?