After the Breakup, the Seductive Beauty-Type Omega Became Obsessed - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: You Big Love Fool! / Lovers’ Contract

Wen Mingzhi tossed her suit jacket onto the sofa, her slender fingers reaching for the buttons at her collar.

“You’re back, President Wen?” Zhou Tian greeted her with a face full of joy.

“Mm.” Wen Mingzhi responded coolly and aloofly.

“I thought you weren’t coming back.” Zhou Tian, like a fluttering butterfly, leapt off the bed and ran over to her.

“It’s close by,” Wen Mingzhi replied coldly. She’d had dinner with some friends tonight and ended up staying out late.

“…Mm-hmm.” Zhou Tian’s smile stiffened for a moment, then blossomed again.

She was just happy Wen Mingzhi came home.

“Go to sleep,” Wen Mingzhi said as she walked straight into the bathroom without even glancing at her.

Zhou Tian nodded quickly, watching that familiar, beautiful silhouette. Her heart surged with joy.

She adjusted her pajamas, smoothed her hair, sat on the bed, and quietly waited for Wen Mingzhi. The corners of her lips lifted uncontrollably.

The sound of the shower trickled from the bathroom, then fell silent. After a rustling of movement came the sound of light footsteps—and finally, Wen Mingzhi’s cold, stunning face appeared before her.

“President Wen,” Zhou Tian called sweetly.

“Mm. Go to sleep.” Wen Mingzhi got into bed on the other side, her tightly pressed lips curling slightly, looking a bit more relaxed than usual.

The warm yellow light clicked off, and the room sank into darkness. In the silence, Zhou Tian could hear her own noisy heartbeat racing with excitement. She stiffened, afraid to move, but slowly inched her hand toward Wen Mingzhi’s side, carefully brushing her sleeve. A contented smile tugged at her lips.

“…”

The next morning, when Zhou Tian woke up, Wen Mingzhi was gone again. But this time, she didn’t feel disappointed.

She’d sensed her leave earlier and had even heard her say, “I’m heading out.”

Zhou Tian drew the curtains open. Sunshine bathed the courtyard in golden light—it was a beautiful, dazzling morning.

She smiled, eyes curved with delight. Opening her chat app, she clicked on the pinned top contact. Wen Mingzhi still hadn’t replied to her last message.

But… that was okay now. She had her answer.

After breakfast with Aunt Li, Zhou Tian returned to the bedroom to pack her things and go home.

Wen Mingzhi probably wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon, so there was no need for her to stay here either.

She went to the walk-in closet, randomly opened a wardrobe, and looked for her clothes—only to find that there were even more clothes than before, and in a variety of styles.

There were lots of long dresses, clearly not Wen Mingzhi’s style. They looked like they were prepared especially for her: underwear, casual clothes, athletic wear—even some matching outfits.

Zhou Tian looked at the two lilac-colored sweatshirts and drew her hand back like she’d been burned.

When did Wen Mingzhi prepare all of this?

Did she… want Zhou Tian to stay here longer?

Her thoughts were in chaos. She didn’t understand Wen Mingzhi’s intentions, but her heart couldn’t help pounding wildly.

The smile on her lips grew wider.

After thinking it over, she took out her phone and sent a cautious message to Wen Mingzhi:

I’m getting ready to head home.

The reply came quickly: Okay.

No hesitation. No polite words. Just a clean, emotionless “Okay.”

The smile on Zhou Tian’s lips slowly faded. Her heart sank.

She took a deep breath. At least… Wen Mingzhi replied.

The goddess finally responded!

She must have just been too busy!

Zhou Tian changed into her own clothes and packed up.

She had worn the expensive clothes Wen Mingzhi had prepared for her during her stay, but now that she was leaving, she changed back. She wasn’t with Wen Mingzhi for the money or gifts.

After saying goodbye to Aunt Li, she headed out.

On a whim, she walked over to the villa next door. But unexpectedly, the doors were shut tight.

She could only message Bai Qianxue: Teacher Bai, I’m leaving now.

Bai Qianxue: Leaving so soon? Where’s President Wen? She dumped you already?

Zhou Tian replied selectively: Yes… no.

Bai Qianxue: Okay then, let’s work on music together again sometime.

Zhou Tian: Sure, thank you, Teacher Bai.

“…”

After returning home, Zhou Tian buried herself in music—composing and polishing her songs. Once the melody was refined, she began working on the lyrics.

Keeping herself busy in music helped her think less about her goddess.

But she still thought of her. Every time she opened their chat, she would just look—never daring to send another message.

She didn’t even know what to say. They had no mutual friends, and she was terrified of bothering Wen Mingzhi—what if she became annoyed and saw her as a clingy Alpha?

Zhou Tian must have replayed that single word, “Okay,” in her mind a hundred times, analyzing it from every possible angle—but still got nowhere.

Eventually, she turned to the group chat “Trio Squad.” Lately, Lu Ningle had been updating her on her variety show experiences, so Zhou Tian could get familiar with the format.

Sister Xia had also finalized things with the production team—they would be going over the day after tomorrow, with Sister Xia accompanying her.

Sister Xia acted as both her manager and assistant. Sometimes Zhou Tian felt guilty, but she couldn’t get used to working without her. Having Sister Xia around made her feel safe.

The recording went smoothly. The teachers were easy to get along with, and Lu Ningle frequently brought her up, vouching for her and easing tensions.

After recording, Zhou Tian and Xia Ruo went home. She had no more upcoming events.

Just in time—the show Yue Sheng updated every Saturday, and her episode had aired. Xia Ruo came to her place to watch together.

The screen was filled with comments:

Who’s backing Zhou Tian?!

Bai Qianxue’s critique was accurate. Why are people attacking her? Zhou Tian really isn’t good.

Bai Qianxue is gorgeous! I love her even more now.

She cried after just a few words? Why come on a show with skin that thin?!

“…”

Seeing this, Xia Ruo immediately covered Zhou Tian’s eyes. “Don’t read these hate comments… Bai Qianxue went way too far!”

“It’s okay, Sister Xia. I’ve seen worse.” Zhou Tian took a sip of water. “Getting hated means I’m popular, right?” she said with a faint smile.

“Still! Everyone’s badmouthing you—how can you still smile? I wish it meant you were popular, but not a single decent offer has come in,” Xia Ruo said indignantly.

“No jobs?” Zhou Tian was surprised. That wasn’t what she expected. After all, even bad fame is still fame.

“Oh, there are offers. But they want you to play clowns or villains. I can’t let you do that!” Xia Ruo scowled as she chugged some cola.

“I don’t mind. Better than nothing. If there’s something decent, just take it,” Zhou Tian said nonchalantly.

The show kept playing in the background, songs echoing from the projector.

Zhou Tian opened the “Big Eye” app, and sure enough, the show was trending—top ten.

She skimmed through the comments—more or less like the live ones.

But something caught her eye: Bai Qianxue had posted again, sharing the show’s official post with a comment: Just for the show’s effect~ let’s collab again sometime @Zhou Tian Tian Tian

Zhou Tian quickly replied: Sure thing, Teacher Bai! 🌹💖

Then she reposted the official promotion with: I’ll keep working hard!! 💖

Though her comments were still mostly negative, fewer people were dragging Bai Qianxue into it now—it was just pure hate.

She couldn’t say it didn’t sting. But when she saw her follower count—150,000 fans!—the pain mostly faded.

What a stroke of luck!

“Sister Xia! I’ve got 150,000 followers now!” she shrieked.

“That’s amazing! One day, you’ll hit 500k, 1 million, even 2 million!” Xia Ruo beamed.

Even Wen Qingying and Lu Ningle reposted and praised her. Wen Qingying went so far as to defend her in a livestream and kept promoting her songs.

Having two true friends filled Zhou Tian’s heart with warmth.

After the variety show aired, Zhou Tian’s follower count surged again. About 20% were converted fans; the other 80% were haters accusing her of being a spoiled rich kid planted by capital.

But she didn’t care.

She stayed home, focused on music, only going out disguised per Sister Xia’s advice.

Twenty days passed in this quiet routine. Still no new work.

But Wen Mingzhi’s image constantly haunted her thoughts—especially during her heat period. In all 23 years of her life, she had never craved being with an Omega so badly—wanted to touch her, cuddle her, mark her.

But she could only imagine.

She took suppressants like crazy to control her instincts.

The heat she could manage. The longing—she could not.

Whenever she opened their chat, she froze, unsure what to say.

Then suddenly, she remembered: Wen Mingzhi had once asked her, “What do you want? If you figure it out, tell me.”

But she had never wanted anything specific… nor did she want their temporary bond to be transactional.

Still…

After a long struggle, she typed, edited, and finally sent a message.

“…”

Meanwhile, Wen Mingzhi stood by a floor-to-ceiling window, watching the city lights flicker as she smoked. The tip of her cigarette flared and dimmed.

Her phone chimed. She returned to the leather sofa, picked it up, glanced at the screen—and smirked.

“Heh.”

But she didn’t reply. Instead, she tossed the phone aside and opened her tablet to check new emails.

She was about to get very busy.

Back at Zhou Tian’s side, she sat clutching her phone, tense with hope.

One hour… one day… five days…

Still no reply.

What she got instead was an explosion of news.

Wen Mingzhi was seen attending an event with international model Shen Yishuang. The two appeared extremely close—heads together, practically snuggled.

Seeing the photo, Zhou Tian’s heart stopped. Her breath caught. Her entire body froze. Her phone slipped onto the carpet with a dull thud.

She sat there motionless, like she’d been paralyzed.

Her mouth pulled down into a painful frown. Her face tensed, her brows knotted with heartbreak.

So this was why Wen Mingzhi hadn’t replied?

Her heart ached terribly.

She had overestimated herself… hoped for too much…

Over the next few days, Zhou Tian tried convincing herself otherwise.

But fate seemed determined to mock her. Wherever she looked—her phone, news apps, even trending topics—it was all Wen Mingzhi and Shen Yishuang.

They did joint interviews, hinted at further collaboration…

Even when she opened the “Big Eye” app, she was bombarded with their news.

She tried cropping the pictures—just Wen Mingzhi—but Shen Yishuang was always there. They were too close to separate.

Eventually, she deleted the photos in frustration and hurled her phone away.

She couldn’t handle the pain.

Zhou Tian, who had always protected her voice and avoided alcohol, drank four bottles of beer—until she threw up and passed out on the carpet, her cheeks streaked with tears…

When she woke up the next day, Zhou Tian’s head was splitting. Her throat was dry, her limbs weak. She stared blankly at the ceiling, her vision blurry, trying to piece together what happened last night.

Memories came flooding back—Wen Mingzhi with another Omega, their intimate photos, her own desperation and foolish message, and finally… the cold, suffocating silence in return.

Her eyes stung again.

She rolled over and buried her face in the carpet. Her hands gripped at the edges as if she could dig into the floor and disappear completely.

She had promised herself she wouldn’t get attached. That she’d just admire her goddess from afar, like looking at a bright star in the sky.

But she’d gotten greedy. The moment she touched a little warmth, she’d fallen too hard.

Now… she’d only managed to burn herself.

She staggered up, ignoring her pounding headache, and dragged herself to the bathroom. The mirror showed her a mess—swollen eyes, pale lips, the aftermath of crying and vomiting all night.

She turned on the tap and splashed water on her face again and again. Her tears mixed with the water, but she no longer cared.

She stared at her reflection, trying to steady her breathing.

“It’s over,” she told herself softly. “It’s over, Zhou Tian. Wake up.”

She didn’t want to cry anymore.

She was just a nobody Alpha. She had no right to demand anything from someone like Wen Mingzhi.

She deserved this.

But then her phone buzzed again. She turned her head slowly.

A new message.

Her heart leapt uncontrollably.

It wasn’t from Wen Mingzhi.

It was from Bai Qianxue.

Hey. I saw the news. You okay?

Zhou Tian didn’t reply.

Another message followed:
Don’t let it get to you. You still have a future. Let her go.

Zhou Tian clenched her fingers tight. Her knuckles turned white.

Let her go?

Could she really?

That night, Zhou Tian opened Wen Mingzhi’s chat again.

She stared at her last message for a long time.

Can I stay by your side a little longer?

Sent seven days ago.

No reply.

No read receipt.

Zhou Tian’s finger hovered over the message, then… she deleted it.

Then she deleted the entire conversation.

And then—

She deleted Wen Mingzhi’s contact.

Her chest felt hollow, but oddly lighter. Like something had finally come loose after being tangled up for too long.

She sat quietly for a long, long time.

Eventually, she opened her notebook and turned to a blank page.

She picked up her pen, and under the soft glow of the lamp, began writing new lyrics.

At the same time, in the top floor office of Wen Group HQ…

Wen Mingzhi sat in silence, staring at the dark screen of her phone.

She hadn’t replied to Zhou Tian.

She’d told herself it was better that way.

This Alpha had already gotten under her skin more than anyone else had before. That alone made her dangerous.

But when she checked her messages again—Zhou Tian’s name was gone.

Her conversation history: gone.

Deleted.

Wen Mingzhi frowned.

She refreshed the page. Nothing.

She called up her assistant, but before she could speak, she hung up again.

She sat there, silent.

Then, after a long time, she finally murmured to herself—

“…She really left.”

She leaned back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, lit cigarette slowly burning between her fingers.

That warmth.

That smile.

That person.

Gone.