After Getting Pregnant, I Fought for a Divorce from My Alpha - Chapter 3
“Achoo!”
Hearing the sneeze, Shen Xiao paused his movements as he was towel-drying An Xiangdi’s hair.
An Xiangdi sniffled and asked, “Didn’t you say you had something tonight?”
He was still holding a grudge from earlier in the day, and his tone carried a hint of knowing sarcasm.
Shen Xiao tossed aside the soaked towel and pulled out a clean one from the backseat to continue drying An Xiangdi’s wet clothes. “It wasn’t that important. I’ll reschedule it for tomorrow. Besides, you didn’t reply to my message later.”
An Xiangdi blinked, recalling the message he’d sent while getting makeup done. Raising an eyebrow, he realized Shen Xiao had replied, “Xiao Gu, hand me my phone.”
“Ah—right!” Xiao Gu, seated in the front passenger seat, quickly dug out An Xiangdi’s phone from his bag.
An Xiangdi unlocked it and saw Shen Xiao’s message. He chuckled, “What? You didn’t like my hair strands?”
Before Shen Xiao could respond, he added, “I’m good-looking from head to toe.”
“Mm,” Shen Xiao’s lips curved slightly as he tossed aside the damp towel. “Xiao Gu, can you turn up the air conditioning?”
“Ah… sure.” Xiao Gu snapped back to reality and turned the AC to its highest temperature.
An Xiangdi ran a hand through his hair. Thanks to Shen Xiao’s diligent drying, it was almost dry now, but his clothes were still damp and clingy—very uncomfortable.
“Take off your clothes,” Shen Xiao said. Before the words were fully out, he was already reaching over.
An Xiangdi was more than happy to be pampered. And now that Shen Xiao had come in person, his earlier sulkiness had long since evaporated. He raised his arms, letting Shen Xiao help him out of his soaked shirt. He was about to unbutton his pants himself when Shen Xiao paused, then reclined the seat and moved him to the back row, blocking Xiao Gu’s line of sight.
The two fussed around in the backseat for a while before finally getting him completely dry.
Shen Xiao draped his own black overcoat—the one he had left for An Xiangdi—over him. An Xiangdi lazily lounged against the rear seat, in no hurry.
Shen Xiao glanced over and pulled him into his arms. “Drink some medicine when we get home.”
“No,” An Xiangdi flatly refused.
Shen Xiao didn’t push it. His dark eyes were unreadable.
An Xiangdi looked up at him, inwardly marveling that this man always looked so damn good. Sharp features, a high-bridged nose, hair neatly cropped—a walking dreamboat from every angle.
Shen Xiao took An Xiangdi’s right hand and gently pressed into his palm. “I’m heading back early tomorrow.”
“For that interview?” An Xiangdi remembered Shen Xiao had mentioned the activity “wasn’t that important.”
“No. It’s for my final scene.”
“Oh.” An Xiangdi nodded. Shen Xiao had been filming a drama in Lin City these past months, and they’d barely seen each other—a number you could count on one hand.
Shen Xiao’s eyes were filled with quiet affection. He urged again, “Take your medicine.”
Smelling the strong scent of brandy in Shen Xiao’s pheromones, An Xiangdi turned over and broke free from his embrace. “Got it.”
He had no defense against this man’s pheromones. If he didn’t give in now, they’d just end up bickering again like earlier that day.
When they got home, An Xiangdi drank the cold medicine under Shen Xiao’s watchful eye, then soaked in a hot bath. When he turned red from the heat, Shen Xiao scooped him out of the tub.
Curled up on the chaise lounge, An Xiangdi’s gaze followed Shen Xiao, who was moving back and forth, boiling water and peeling apples.
Shen Xiao wore only a bath towel around his waist, and with every movement, his eight-pack abs flexed under the light. When he squatted down, biceps bulged even as he gripped an apple.
An Xiangdi got distracted, then waved him over. “Come here.”
Shen Xiao paused mid-motion, put down the half-peeled apple, and walked to the lounge chair.
An Xiangdi reached up, pulled him down, and kissed him before he could even steady himself.
Shen Xiao froze for just a moment, then released a surge of his pheromones, quickly taking the lead. While they kissed deeply, he slipped off An Xiangdi’s robe and carried him to the bed.
The next morning, An Xiangdi rolled over and groggily opened his eyes. Feeling the empty space beside him, he figured Shen Xiao must’ve already left.
“Clicking his tongue,” he rubbed his sore waist and got out of bed. In the living room, he found breakfast Shen Xiao had left for him—along with a box of cold medicine.
His phone buzzed. It was a message from Shen Xiao.
– Xiao Xiao: Awake?
– Xiao Xiao: Eat the breakfast. Also, take the medicine. One more day, okay?
Leaning against the table, An Xiangdi quickly typed out a reply.
– Di Zi: How’d you know I’d be up at this hour?
Shen Xiao responded almost instantly.
– Xiao Xiao: We’ve known each other for over twenty years.
– Xiao Xiao: Take the medicine—as compensation for only showing me your hair strands yesterday.
An Xiangdi snorted in laughter. Who was the one flipping him over in bed last night again?
When Xiao Gu arrived to pick him up, An Xiangdi was calmly eating breakfast at the dining table, while Croatian Rhapsody played softly from the Bluetooth speaker.
“An laoshi, it’s time,” Xiao Gu called out.
An Xiangdi snapped out of his daze, put down his half-eaten breakfast, and just as he was about to head out, he remembered Shen Xiao’s insistence and took the medicine with him.
Outside, the first snow of the year was falling—surprisingly late for Zhongming City. An Xiangdi shivered and jumped into the car.
From the front storage box, he pulled out the thermos Xiao Gu had thoughtfully filled with warm water. He downed two pills.
Through the rearview mirror, Xiao Gu watched him and gently reminded, “An laoshi, Shen laoshi asked you to message him after taking the medicine.”
An Xiangdi paused, then tossed the phone aside. “Not sending it.”
Xiao Gu panicked a little. He didn’t expect his reminder would backfire.
“I have a 9 p.m. flight tonight, right?”
“…Yes.” When it came to work, Xiao Gu got serious. He pulled out his tablet. “We’re headed to Pingbei City for rehearsal. You’ll be stationed there for a while.”
“Mm.” An Xiangdi rested his chin on his hand, staring out the window in boredom.
The new year was approaching. Yet again, he and Shen Xiao weren’t scheduled to work together—not even on the Spring Festival Gala, which they’d be performing at on different networks. Shen Xiao still had some scenes left to shoot, so spending the new year together was off the table.
An Xiangdi pursed his lips, pulled his gaze away from the snowy scene, and grabbed the medicine again. He snapped a picture and sent it to Shen Xiao.
– Di Zi: Took it.
– Di Zi: image.jpg
For the next two weeks, the two truly didn’t see each other. They were both so busy, they barely had time to breathe. Most nights, they only managed a video call before bed. Sometimes, they were so exhausted they fell asleep mid-call—waking up to find the video had been on all night. But neither of them brought up the agency issues again.
They finally reunited—but not at a time or place An Xiangdi had expected.
“An laoshi, Li-ge wants you at the company.” Xiao Gu mentioned Li Guan’s name hesitantly, already anticipating An Xiangdi’s displeasure.
“What does he want now?” An Xiangdi frowned. Just hearing “Li Guan” gave him a bad feeling. “If it’s still about Director Qiu, tell him to give it a rest.”
“N-no, it’s… a drama that specifically asked for you.” Xiao Gu covered his mouth, sounding mysterious. “It’s Director Cao Xuan’s.”
The name “Cao Xuan” softened some of An Xiangdi’s earlier irritation.
Cao Xuan had graduated from Pingbei Film Academy in his early twenties, and shortly after, shot to fame with his suspense film The Message, which swept nearly all the awards at that year’s film festival. Since then, he’d focused on suspense films and, though perhaps not always groundbreaking, consistently produced award-winning works.
When An Xiangdi first entered the entertainment industry, he was a singer. But as he transitioned into acting, he studied many of Cao Xuan’s films and had always dreamed of working with him.
Unfortunately, constant friction with his agency had made things difficult. As long as his choices didn’t affect their profits, they often applied pressure behind the scenes.
“Li Guan agreed to this?” An Xiangdi raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
“I…” Xiao Gu didn’t know how to respond.
An Xiangdi waved him off. He hadn’t meant to push, and said casually, “Let’s go.”
On the 23rd floor of Royal Dynasty Media, An Xiangdi spotted a woman on the phone in the hallway and had a bad feeling.
The woman was Shen Xiao’s agent, Hua Jiang—an Alpha. With short hair, a crisp black suit buttoned all the way up, and a cold, businesslike tone, she finished her call with an ice-cold, “If it’s not handled by the time I’m back, pack your things and go home.”
She looked up and locked eyes with An Xiangdi. “An laoshi, long time no see.”
An Xiangdi returned the greeting without warmth, “Ms. Hua. Yes, it’s been a while.”
Hua Jiang gave him a once-over, then turned and entered the conference room.
Few people looked down on An Xiangdi, but Hua Jiang was one of them—ever since he and Shen Xiao got married two years ago. She’d never treated him kindly. But An Xiangdi wasn’t one to take things lying down. He gave back whatever was given to him, so he didn’t bother with politeness either.
Inside the conference room, he immediately saw Shen Xiao sitting and chatting with Cao Xuan, confirming his earlier hunch.
“Ah, An laoshi, you’re here,” Cao Xuan greeted warmly.
An Xiangdi’s demeanor instantly softened. “Hello, Director Cao. You can just call me Xiao An.”
“Come, Xiao An, have a seat here.” Cao Xuan patted the chair beside him.
An Xiangdi sat down naturally. He glanced at Li Guan, who looked thoroughly displeased—clearly forced into this situation.
“I had dinner with Xiao Shen yesterday,” Cao Xuan explained, “We ended up discussing the new project. I wanted to try something fresher—an online drama, double male leads. After struggling to cast it, Xiao Shen suggested you. I thought about it and agreed—you’re perfect.”
“You’re too kind, Director Cao.” An Xiangdi glanced at Shen Xiao, who sat upright and serious.
“Today’s just to see what you think.” Cao Xuan had worried An Xiangdi might turn it down, considering his reputation for prioritizing himself and the lower prestige of web dramas. But Shen Xiao had guaranteed his interest.
“Can I see the script?” An Xiangdi didn’t immediately accept. Out of professionalism, he wanted to read it first.
Shen Xiao handed over the script. “Here.”
Cao Xuan leaned back, giving the two some space.
An Xiangdi read carefully. The title was Eyes Hidden in the Corner. Another suspense drama, rich with highlights and laced with subtle emotional threads. Nothing to pick at. He nodded. “It’s a great script. With you directing, it’ll be an excellent project. I’d love to join.”
“Then it’s settled. Filming starts after the New Year. We’ll send the contract over in a few days.” Cao Xuan beamed.
Shen Xiao’s gaze deepened. “This is our first time working together.”
“What, afraid I’ll outshine you?” An Xiangdi leaned in, half-joking.
Shen Xiao pulled him into an embrace, murmuring near his ear, “Of course not. I’m playing a cop.”
Smelling the strong brandy scent, An Xiangdi thought of a few scenes he’d glimpsed in the script and pinched Shen Xiao’s arm. “We’ll see on set!”