After Being Bitten By Top-Tier O, Flop A Went Viral - Chapter 4

4: A Fierce Kiss

“What on earth is going on?” The car emerged from the underground parking and merged into the congested downtown traffic. Outside the window, the opulent entrance of Yunxiang Pavilion was cordoned off with police tape, flanked by several police cars. Their alternating red and blue lights flashed conspicuously in the darkness, drawing a crowd of onlookers and a swarm of reporters armed with cameras.

Ai Jia observed the scene outside, ensuring no one had noticed them, then frowned at the woman beside her, who was still toying with a satin ribbon. “Explain,” she demanded.

“Got set up, that’s all,” Yan Qing replied nonchalantly, tying the ribbon into a delicate bow around her wrist. The deep blue butterfly rested on her pale skin, its wings fluttering with her movements.

“I’m asking about that alpha…” Years of managing high-strung celebrities had tempered Ai Jia’s nerves and bl00d pressure. Knowing that raising her voice at her boss was futile, she patiently refined her question.

Who could tell her how the renowned actress Yan Qing had managed to befriend someone willing to carry her down eight flights of stairs in just half a day?

Before she could finish, Yan Qing’s phone rang. The omega glanced at the screen, sighed, and answered, holding the phone slightly away from her ear.

“Are you okay? Did Ai Jia and the others pick you up? Where are you now?!” The moment the call connected, even without speakerphone, the car was filled with the roar of Xu Li, the current CEO of Boson Entertainment.

“I’m fine, perfectly fine, safe and sound in the car,” Yan Qing reassured, massaging her temples. “Calm down, or Boson’s staff will think their CEO has mutated.”

“How can I calm down? Do you know how dangerous today was?! You were almost—” Xu Li’s voice choked off mid-sentence.

“Almost had scandalous photos plastered all over the internet?” Yan Qing finished with a laugh.

“Yan Qing!” A series of shattering glass sounds came through the phone. Ai Jia silently mourned the expensive tea set on the CEO’s desk.

“Alright, alright, my bad. Don’t be angry. I’m just stating facts—today was dangerous, and I’ve learned my lesson,” Yan Qing said breezily. The neon lights outside cast a kaleidoscope of colors on her porcelain face, her sapphire eyes like frozen depths. “But I’m not scared, Xu Li. They resorted to such underhanded tactics because they think an omega who’s been defiled should either die to preserve her honor or fade into obscurity.” Her brows furrowed slightly, a flash of disdain crossing her features. “Even if that’s the world’s rule, I don’t agree. And neither do you—otherwise, you’d have surrendered to your brother long ago. After all, it’s textbook knowledge that alphas outperform betas in every metric.”

A long silence followed. When Xu Li spoke again, her tone was softer. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, my friend.” Having successfully placated her, Yan Qing leaned back into the seat, fiddling with the ribbon again. “The more critical the situation, the calmer you need to be. Xu Zheng’s desperate move proves he knows he can’t beat you fairly. Just keep doing what you do best—his weaknesses will reveal themselves in time. Showing your vulnerabilities to the enemy in the heat of battle is dangerous.”

“Understood,” Xu Li replied grudgingly. “Get home early and rest well.”

After hanging up, silence filled the car.

Ai Jia hesitated to resume their earlier conversation. Every time she thought Yan Qing was an irresponsible child who needed constant supervision, the omega would reveal another facet of herself, correcting Ai Jia’s assumptions.

“Oh, what were you asking earlier? About that girl?” Yan Qing steered the conversation back herself, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “She’s a carton of sweet milk.”

Ai Jia: “…Oh.”

And just when she thought Yan Qing was utterly reliable, the woman would deliver another blow to her bl00d pressure with her usual antics.

“Sleepy. Wake me when we’re home.” Yan Qing yawned, reclining her seat and wrapping herself in a blanket before tossing her handbag to Ai Jia.

“What’s this?” Ai Jia was startled by the bag’s brick-like weight and pulled out a heavy object.

“A stun gun,” Yan Qing murmured, her voice fading. “Originally meant for unwelcome guests, but it went unused.”

Ai Jia: “…”

Even after years of knowing her, her understanding of Yan Qing remained woefully incomplete.

That night, news of illegal possession of omega-inducing drugs at Yunxiang Pavilion exploded across social media. The police had apprehended the culprit—a spoiled, drug-addled playboy who was caught descending the stairs with a swollen face by vigilant staff. However, he provided no useful information, only repeating that someone had given him a keycard and promised a “big surprise” in the room. Before he could do anything, he’d been punched.

A sweep of Yunxiang Pavilion yielded no victim. Due to privacy concerns, the establishment had minimal surveillance, offering little evidence. Meanwhile, media reports ignited a firestorm online. Everyone knew the Golden Gala had been held at Yunxiang Pavilion that night. Fans of various celebrities swarmed the gossip threads—some smearing rivals, others defending their idols, and still others clamoring for insider details—turning the internet into a scene more chaotic than a train station on Lunar New Year’s Eve.

Soon after, Boson Entertainment, as the event’s organizer, issued a statement denying any knowledge of the incident and pledging full cooperation with the investigation, shifting blame onto Yunxiang Pavilion.

Yunxiang Pavilion also released a statement, but it did little to quell the outrage. They couldn’t explain how a keycard had gone missing at a high-end hotel renowned for its privacy and security. Owner Liu Qing was isolated for police questioning, and stocks of his affiliated businesses plummeted.

Netizens debated fervently, with conspiracy theories running rampant. But for the few in the know, the matter was straightforward.

Boson Entertainment was the most significant enterprise of the wealthy Xu family, dominating half the entertainment industry for years. Its roster included countless A-listers, spanning film, television, variety shows, and live streaming. Six years ago, when the previous Xu family head stepped down, her eldest daughter, Xu Li, took over as CEO, further expanding Boson’s empire. But a year ago, Xu Li’s younger brother, Xu Zheng, came of age and, with the family’s backing, began vying for control of Boson. Though the siblings maintained a facade of harmony, they likely wished each other dead.

Liu Qing had always been close to Xu Zheng. The two conspiring to set someone up during the gala was unscrupulous but not implausible. As for the target, everyone had a guess.

Years ago, it was Yan Qing who had staunchly supported Xu Li’s appointment as CEO. Now, with tensions escalating, she remained one of the few still openly backing Xu Li.

Yan Qing—Boson’s leading actress, an omega who seemed tailor-made for a warning example.

Her name had been on the guest list, yet she mysteriously vanished during the police sweep.

Boson claimed Yan Qing had left early due to illness, while the guilt-ridden Yunxiang Pavilion dared not protest.

With no victim and a clueless perpetrator, the matter eventually fizzled out amid bureaucratic finger-pointing. But in terms of outcomes, Xu Zheng had suffered a major loss—sacrificing a key ally without landing a single blow on Yan Qing. His private fury was unimaginable.

But none of this intrigue concerned Qin Que. After watching Yan Qing leave, she exited Yunxiang Pavilion via the pedestrian walkway from the underground parking. The night breeze carried a hint of autumn chill, making her shiver. She pulled out her phone to call Bai Tuan Tuan.

“Hey there, pretty lady, out alone? That’s some strong pheromones,” a drunken man reeking of alcohol slurred, stumbling toward her.

Qin Que sidestepped him expressionlessly, wanting to put distance between them. The man, incensed, grabbed for her arm, releasing a pungent alpha pheromone. “Smelling like that, you’re in heat! Quit playing hard to get!”

Qin Que’s brow twitched. She twisted his arm behind his back, kicked the back of his knee, and sent him sprawling.

“Y-you—let go! Assaulting people for no reason!” The man yelped, his drunken bravado evaporating as his knee hit the pavement.

Bystanders turned to stare. Unfazed, Qin Que said coolly, “You attacked me first. And releasing high-concentration pheromones in public is illegal, sir.”

“Who are you to judge? You reek—” The man’s voice faltered as he finally registered the alpha pheromones beneath Qin Que’s intoxicating wine scent—pheromones that clashed violently with his own.

As the crowd grew, Qin Que, cold and exhausted, had no energy to drag him to the police station. She released him.

The man scrambled up, his drunken act gone, and vanished into the crowd, muttering, “Pretty boy, just crawled out of some omega’s bed, smelling like that! Disgusting!”

Qin Que: “…”

Under the crowd’s scrutinizing gazes, the young alpha’s face flushed crimson. She hurried into a nearby pheromone-supply store.

The vending machine beeped, dispensing a pack of scent blockers. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her recently bitten gland, Qin Que applied two layers and doused herself in neutralizing spray, finally masking Yan Qing’s scent.

She glanced at the mirror beside the machine. Her reflection—flushed face, disheveled clothes, and the lingering pheromones—was a sight to behold.

Qin Que covered her face, taking a moment to compose herself. Just then, her phone rang. Bai Tuan Tuan’s anxious voice came through.

“Que Que, I saw online that something happened at Yunxiang Pavilion. I came to check, and the police have it sealed off. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Stay where you are. I’ll come to you.”

Five minutes later, Qin Que was back in the car.

“Que Que, what—what happened to you?!”

Bai Tuan Tuan turned from the driver’s seat, eyes wide. “Where did you come from? And where’s your coat?”

“Something came up. Don’t ask. Let’s just go home. As for the clothes, tell the company to deduct the cost from my earnings.”

Qin Que curled up in the backseat, feigning sleep to avoid further questions. She had no intention of sharing tonight’s surreal events with anyone—it involved Yan Qing’s privacy.

Bai Tuan Tuan called her name twice but, receiving no response, dropped the subject and drove toward Qin Que’s apartment, muttering, “That Manager Wang already had a face longer than a donkey’s when we borrowed the clothes. Who knows what nasty things he’ll say now.”

Qin Que didn’t register a word. She had only pretended to sleep, but the car’s warmth lulled her into an unprecedented drowsiness. Words failed her, and she drifted into unconsciousness, only waking when Bai Tuan Tuan shook her.

“Que Que, Que Que, are you okay?”

Qin Que forced her heavy eyelids open. The car had stopped outside her apartment building, and Bai Tuan Tuan’s round face was etched with worry.

Her artist was usually as gentle and unflappable as a capybara, with boundless energy. Bai Tuan Tuan had rarely seen her so exhausted.

What had happened at the Golden Gala to leave her looking like she’d hauled bricks for three days straight?

“I’m fine,” Qin Que insisted, stumbling out of the car. She shook her head and mustered a smile. “I just need sleep. Thanks for today. Go rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Bai Tuan Tuan wanted to take her to the hospital but relented under Qin Que’s insistence.

“I’m heading off then. Call me if anything comes up!”

After seeing Bai Tuan Tuan off, Qin Que pinched her thigh to stay awake, barely making it upstairs before nearly collapsing in the elevator. She didn’t bother with lights or a shower, collapsing onto the bed and sinking back into oblivion.

As the night wore on, the neutralizing spray’s effects faded, and the intoxicating wine scent seeped out, enveloping the alpha in her bedding.

Qin Que dreamed again.

She dreamed of herself clad in resplendent armor, astride a snow-white steed, riding through a city’s open gates to cheers and adulation.

Fragrant petals rained from the sky. At the end of the broad avenue stood a stunning woman in crimson bridal robes, her deep, unforgettable eyes like a moonlit sea.

This was the story of Wang Xiang.

Having watched the film over a dozen times, Qin Que knew every beat by heart—even in her muddled state, she recognized it instantly.

But this wasn’t how it ended.

In Wang Xiang’s finale, Yan Qing’s character, the “Praying Maiden,” never reunited with her lover, who had gone to war.

They had vowed that when the general returned victorious, the maiden would greet her in bridal red.

The maiden waited until the kingdom fell, until everything changed.

To her, the general was no longer just a lover but a symbol of the past.

Unable to move on, she chose death.

Qin Que still remembered the resolve and joy in the maiden’s eyes as flames consumed her slender frame. The ending had haunted her for years, and in her heart, she had quietly rewritten it.

Like now.

She dismounted, pulling the woman into a fierce embrace. A tear slid down the maiden’s cheek, landing on Qin Que’s neck—warm at first, then cooling.

The rich wine scent coiled around her like vines, seeping into her bones.

Wait—

Her hands moved of their own accord, tilting the woman’s chin up. Meeting her tearful gaze, Qin Que crushed their lips together in a searing kiss.

Wait!

The taste of her was like fine liquor, intoxicating and addictive. Qin Que trembled but couldn’t stop herself from craving more.

Wait, wait, wait!

This wasn’t part of her imagined ending!

A shrill ringtone shattered the dream. Qin Que’s eyes flew open to her bedroom ceiling.

A dream?

Heart still racing, she grabbed her phone. Bai Tuan Tuan was calling.

“Que Que, check Weibo!!!”