After Getting Pregnant, I Fought for a Divorce from My Alpha - Chapter 20
An Xiangdi threw up for quite a while before Shen Xiao realized the situation wasn’t as simple as he’d thought.
“Still feeling sick?” Shen Xiao scooped him into his arms and gently patted his back.
Instinctively, An Xiangdi placed a hand over his lower abdomen and sniffled. “…I’m fine.”
Shen Xiao wasn’t an idiot. He noticed the gesture and carefully recalled An Xiangdi’s recent behavior. A flicker of uncertain joy appeared on his face. “Dizi, are you… pregnant?”
An Xiangdi froze at being guessed right and didn’t answer.
Seeing his reaction, Shen Xiao knew he’d nailed it. “You’re pregnant? Really?”
Seeing how excited he was, An Xiangdi suddenly wondered if keeping it to himself for now had been the wrong call. “…Yeah, I’m pregnant.”
“How far…” Shen Xiao had just started to ask when An Xiangdi covered his mouth.
“I’m not quitting work, so don’t even think about it.” He was dead serious about this.
Shen Xiao held his hand and kissed his palm. “Mm. I won’t keep you locked up at home.”
Not expecting him to say that, An Xiangdi was briefly at a loss. He pulled his hand back and awkwardly sat cross-legged.
Shen Xiao simply wrapped his arms around him. “When did you find out? How far along are you?”
“It should’ve been last time… during my last heat.” Because Dr. Qiao had mentioned his reproductive cavity was underdeveloped, An Xiangdi had always been extra cautious. Every time they had s3x, he’d insist on Shen Xiao using protection—partly to hide his condition, partly for work. That’s why they never went all the way.
But last time, they were both drunk and completely lost control.
“So, it’s been over a month.” Shen Xiao calculated, then frowned. “No, I have to get a private doctor immediately.”
“No need, it’s too much trouble,” An Xiangdi stopped him.
“What if you’ve eaten something bad, or haven’t been resting enough? There’s so much I don’t know yet.” Shen Xiao, becoming a first-time dad at nearly thirty, was taking it very seriously.
Unable to talk him out of it, An Xiangdi simply lay down and pretended to sleep. “Do whatever you want.”
He was feeling awkward about the whole thing. Neither of them had experience. It was a miracle they weren’t panicking.
Shen Xiao didn’t dare touch him much. He lay beside him and gently pulled him into his arms. “What do you want to eat for breakfast?”
“…Nothing.” An Xiangdi had developed a love-hate relationship with food—whatever he ate came right back up, but not eating made him hungry.
“That won’t do.” Shen Xiao pondered for a bit and went to the kitchen.
An Xiangdi couldn’t be bothered to stop him and quickly fell back asleep.
When he woke again, Shen Xiao had already made him a small bowl of porridge and arranged for a long-term private doctor and a housekeeper to take care of him while he was away.
Since An Xiangdi was nervous too, he gave in under light protest.
The pregnancy remained unspoken between them, but they both continued working as usual. Shen Xiao just called more frequently now.
And ever since changing managers, good things kept happening to An Xiangdi.
First, his new song broke the year’s record for highest streaming and downloads. Then, The Faded Season’s screenwriter, Teacher Kansong, unexpectedly praised him on Weibo.
@ScreenwriterKansongV: “Caught a clip of An Xiangdi’s past guest appearance in The Viewing Platform today. Even in a small part, his talent shines—truly promising youth. 👍”
@Dizi’sLittleCoat: “Aaaah thank you Teacher for the praise!”
@ObedientForDizi: “Thank you for the recognition, Teacher Kansong!”
@ListenToDiziSing: “Our Dizi still has more to work on—thank you for the encouragement, Teacher!”
…
Not long after the post, while An Xiangdi was doing prenatal exercises at home, he received a call from his manager, Yao Honglang.
“Repost Kansong’s Weibo.”
“Kansong?” An Xiangdi didn’t immediately react.
“Your next drama’s screenwriter.” Normally, Yao Honglang would manage his artists’ Weibo accounts directly. But An Xiangdi was strong-willed and not the type to hand over his account.
To make things work, they’d made an agreement: he could keep his account, but anything that needed to be posted had to be done by him and on time.
“What should I say?” An Xiangdi hadn’t even seen the Weibo post yet.
“Just express gratitude,” Yao Honglang checked the time. “Half an hour from now, The Faded Season will officially announce its cast. The Best Actor and Best Actress will be listed last. You and Wei Yi go first. Don’t repost anything until I give the signal.”
“Got it.” After hanging up, An Xiangdi opened Weibo and saw the praise from Kansong. He was stunned.
From what he knew, Kansong was over fifty and seen as stern and distant in the industry—rarely complimenting anyone. Aside from award-winning veterans, the last one he publicly praised was Shen Xiao.
Now that praise was falling on him, An Xiangdi was very aware of the gap between himself and the others.
@AnXiangdiV: “Thank you for the recognition, Teacher Kansong. I still have much to learn and improve in my acting. I’ll strive to live up to your expectations. 💪 //@ScreenwriterKansongV: …”
Shortly after reposting, his phone dinged.
It was a repost from Shen Xiao, who had him on special alert.
This guy—he said he was in an interview, but clearly had time to scroll Weibo.
An Xiangdi smirked and tossed the phone aside, continuing with his exercises.
Yao Honglang’s Faded Season casting reveal dragged on for three days, keeping fans curious.
Previously, fans had been furious over An Xiangdi’s billing order and clashed with Royal Entertainment. His fan club never got any official update either. They thought they’d just have to swallow the injustice, but suddenly the drama’s official account disappeared—replaced by a new verified one.
From the cast announcement alone, even though An Xiangdi was still listed fifth, fans quickly sensed something had changed—everyone else in the cast seemed different.
Because of this sudden major shift, the drama entered controversy, and fans patiently waited for the full announcement.
When it finally came, they all went wild. The show dominated Weibo hot searches with 7 or 8 trending hashtags.
@IamGrass: “Holy sh*t! Am I seeing this right? Best Actor and Best Actress together?!”
@SecretCrush: “What an absolutely stunning cast! My goddess Wang Qiao is in it too!!”
@WaitForMe: “And my baby Wei Yi! Love you forever!”
@Dizi’sHeartCoat: “So honored our idol gets to work with such amazing seniors!”
…
@GossipOnlooker: “But why did the whole cast change?”
@AlphaBetaGamma: “Exactly. Didn’t they already announce it before? Director Qiu Cheng even tagged them himself. Could it be… a mistake?”
@0001: “Maybe Qiu Cheng got kicked?”
…
As speculation buzzed, one particular hashtag suddenly rocketed to the top of the hot search list:
#QiuChengExpelledByFilmAssociation
@HuaguoFilmAssociationV: “After being reported by an insider and an internal investigation lasting over a week, the association has decided to expel Qiu Cheng from the Huaguo Film Association for ‘abusing power, sabotaging artists’ careers, and dishonoring the directing profession.’ All awards issued by the Association to Qiu Cheng are hereby revoked. Furthermore, we will pursue legal action for his unauthorized use of Association funds.”
@MelonEater: “Qiu Cheng? Who’s that?”
@CasualWatcher: “Former director of The Faded Season?”
@BigAaaaa: “No wonder the whole cast and director got replaced. 🤔”
@YanYue: “Embezzling the Film Association’s fund? No wonder we haven’t had any good films lately. GIVE ME BACK MY CINEMA!”
…
And just like that, The Faded Season skyrocketed in popularity before it even aired.
In June, the production officially kicked off, and An Xiangdi moved into the designated hotel.
Shen Xiao wasn’t reassured until he heard the hotel’s name.
Maybe it was thanks to being in the same show as a Best Actor and Best Actress, but the cast got placed in a five-star hotel with top-tier amenities. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were all buffet-style gourmet. The only thing actors worried about was gaining fat.
The Faded Season is a family drama revolving around five siblings with wildly different personalities. Even without parents, they formed a warm family. But as their personal secrets came to light, tensions flared—until the youngest, He Sheng, helped bring everyone back together.
An Xiangdi played He Sheng, a quiet 21-year-old with mild depression.
He didn’t have many lines, and his scenes were scattered—not like the leads who had to stay in the studio full-time.
An Xiangdi was happy with the freedom. When he wasn’t working, he did prenatal exercises, practiced lines in front of the mirror, and wrote songs.
Once Shen Xiao finalized the setup for his studio, he personally came to visit the set.
“Oh! Teacher Shen?” A crew member bumped into Shen Xiao while heading to the set.
Shen Xiao politely nodded.
“Visiting the set? To see Mr. An?”
“Mm.”
“You two have such a great relationship,” the crew member said enviously.
“…Thank you.”
As the elevator reached An Xiangdi’s floor, Shen Xiao ran into Wei Yi, who came rushing out and got knocked silly.
“Ow—don’t you watch where you’re going? Ugh…” Wei Yi clutched his head in pain.
Shen Xiao looked down at him. “Sorry.”
But his tone lacked any real apology.
Wei Yi froze, looked up, and instantly shut up when he saw Shen Xiao.
“Hey, Wei Yi, your phone.” An Xiangdi came out in thin disposable slippers, just to hand it to him.
“Oh crap! I forgot again. Gotta go!” Wei Yi grabbed the phone and bolted.
“You… came?” An Xiangdi was surprised to see Shen Xiao there—he hadn’t mentioned anything about visiting.
“Why aren’t you wearing proper shoes? Those are bad for your feet. Poor foot care during pregnancy can leave lasting problems.” Shen Xiao walked over quickly.
An Xiangdi grabbed his arm, about to say “It’s fine,” when he suddenly felt nauseous and dry-heaved again.
Shen Xiao, heart aching, gently patted his back and helped him toward the room.
Just then, a loud bang sounded behind them.
They both turned in unison—to see Xiao Gu staring at them in shock.
“Pregnancy? Morning sickness? Mr. An, you’re pregnant?!”