After the Scummy Alpha Lost Her Memory, a Flirty Top Actress Set Her Sights on Her (GL) - Chapter 1

“You fell off a mountain, and frankly, it’s already a miracle that you didn’t break any bones. But we never expected you to lose your memory.”

Qin Zishu, Yan Run’s friend, looked at her with a mix of regret and disbelief.

Yan Run, her head wrapped in gauze, was resting in the bedroom at home.

She stared coldly at Qin Zishu and asked, “Who the hell are you?”

“…” Qin Zishu was speechless.

After much effort, Yan Run finally managed to memorize who her family and friends were.

She still couldn’t figure out how she’d ended up with someone as dumb as Qin Zishu as a friend, but seeing how genuinely concerned Qin Zishu looked, she figured the friendship wasn’t entirely a waste.

Her father, Yan Huainan, told her, “Don’t worry about the company for now. Just focus on recovering. Your sister and I will handle everything.”

Qin Zishu followed him out and made sure to close the door behind her. Before leaving, she winked and whispered,

“If you ever feel like drinking or picking up girls again, I can sneak you out.”

The moment the door shut, the room fell blissfully silent.

Yan Run turned her gaze to the window. The setting sun cast golden rays through the branches where a lazy sparrow perched, basking in the spring breeze.

But her heart remained shrouded in gloom, the clouds refusing to lift.

She picked up her phone. Several messages had come in from various Omegas.

— Little President Yan, why haven’t you come to see me yet? I miss you.

— Sister Yan, I found this gorgeous handbag. Will you buy it for me?

— Little President Yan, how do I look in this? Didn’t you say you love me in sexy lingerie?

The outfits were revealing, the faces exaggerated with plastic surgery.

Were these the people she had seduced?

A wave of nausea hit her. The thought of having kissed these overly-done-up, fake-smiling people made her stomach churn violently.

Urgh—

She barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up.

This wouldn’t do.

Without hesitation, Yan Run sent out polite messages explaining her memory loss—and then deleted them all.

Anyone not labeled as family or close friends got removed. Over 200 contacts gone in an instant.

Some didn’t take it well and added her back.

— Little President Yan, we only hooked up for a few days and you’re done with me already? You’re seriously the worst Alpha I’ve ever met!

— Weren’t we supposed to go see the meteor shower? You’ve got the nerve to ghost me? At least buy me a few handbags, then!

Yan Run tilted her head lazily and scoffed.

So annoying.

Celibacy. Do not disturb.

She posted this on her Moments (WeChat feed).

The comment section exploded.

— Are you serious? Did you hit your head too hard? Celibate? With your Alpha hormones? Just wait, you’ll be on the front page soon, caught cuddling some beauty in the streets.

So. Damn. Annoying.

Yan Run pressed her lips together and blocked Qin Zishu.

As she continued clearing out her contacts, one name caught her eye—Yu Wenxi.

An Omega.

She checked their chat history:

Yu: Where are you?

Yan Run: Dongyang Grand Hotel.

Yu: Why are you doing this?

Yan Run: Why should I tell you?

Yu: Yan Run, are you stupid?!

The messages were short, cold. Yan Run hadn’t even bothered to reply to the last one.

She opened Yu Wenxi’s Moments: completely empty. Just a horizontal line, meaning she’d been blocked.

Still, it looked like they’d known each other for some time.

A fling?

The thought gave Yan Run goosebumps.

The idea of her being on top of Yu Wenxi—or vice versa—making those kinds of noises in bed…

Disgusting.

She deleted her without a second thought.

Things stayed quiet for a few days. On the eve of getting her bandages removed, a visitor came to the house.

“Second Miss,” said the housekeeper, Su He, stepping in. “There’s someone here asking to see you.”

“Not seeing anyone,” Yan Run replied firmly.

She wasn’t kidding about celibacy.

In fact, she’d gone full abstinent.

Even watching kissing scenes on TV made her uncomfortable. Any physical contact gave her goosebumps. A few persistent Omegas had even come to visit her at the Yan residence, clearly unwilling to let go.

Seeing their perfume-soaked clothes, plunging necklines, and the blatant release of pheromones made her visibly frown.

It wasn’t disgust—it was deep psychological aversion.

One by one, she had them all thrown out.

And afterward, she went around the entire villa, spraying disinfectant in every corner.

Su He and Yan Run’s older sister Yan Zhi could only watch in stunned silence.

If this were just a case of OCD or a cleanliness obsession, maybe people could understand. But there’s no way anyone could call what she had anything short of pathological. She was absolutely unhinged.

So when another visitor came, Yan Run assumed it was yet another clingy Omega and refused to see them, as usual.

But Su He, the housekeeper, hesitated.

“You might want to take this one,” she said. “It’s Yu Wenxi, heiress of the Yu family.”

Yan Run froze.

Yu Wenxi?

That name sounded vaguely familiar. Wait… wasn’t that one of the contacts she’d deleted during her WeChat purge?

Still, she didn’t recall being close with her.

She did, however, know about the Yu family—their power, their influence. If nothing else, this deserved a show of respect.

“…Let her in.”

Yu Wenxi entered shortly after.

She brought with her the subtle scent of orchid—not pheromones, but perfume. Cold, elegant perfume.

And when she spoke, her voice matched: calm, measured, aloof.

“Yan Run, have you made up your mind?”

Yan Run glanced at her.

The woman wore a crisp white suit. Her ink-black hair flowed past her waist in smooth waves. One side was tucked neatly behind her ear, revealing a pale, sculpted earlobe adorned with a single sparkling diamond stud.

A picture of restrained beauty.

The first word that came to Yan Run’s mind was: abstinent.

Everything about this Omega was cool and detached, untouched by the vulgarities of the world—like a snow lotus blooming in high mountains. Definitely not someone who used charm or seduction to get her way.

The stormy unease in Yan Run’s heart quieted at once.

Yes, this one was different. Finally, someone who wasn’t like those perfume-drenched Omegas. A breath of fresh air.

But still… she couldn’t remember her at all.

“Uh… sorry, who are you?” she asked, brows slightly furrowed.

Yu Wenxi raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

Su He, sensing the tension, stepped in and whispered apologetically, “Miss Yu is the heiress of the Yu family… Second Miss, please understand, she’s the one you… um, lost memory of.”

“So, you’re saying she’s… what, my fiancée?” Yan Run asked, confused.

Yu Wenxi’s lips curled into a cold smile—not the kind that melts snow, but the kind that freezes entire cities.

“Even if you didn’t want to marry me, you didn’t need to go so far as faking amnesia,” she said icily.

“Wait, what marriage?” Yan Run blinked in disbelief.

Yu Wenxi said nothing.

Yan Run gestured toward the housekeeper. “Su He, give us a moment.”

Once they were alone, the air turned sharp.

“You really lost your memory?” Yu Wenxi asked suspiciously.

Yan Run shrugged. “Obviously. Otherwise, how could I possibly not remember you? Seriously—what marriage are you talking about?”

Yu Wenxi’s eyes, though alluring in shape, were piercingly cold. She closed them for a moment, then opened them with calm resolve.

“A month ago, the Yan and Yu families held a private gathering. The purpose was to propose a marriage alliance—between you and me. The elders from both sides approved. The only ones who disagreed… were the two of us. So, three weeks ago, we met in private to draft a marriage agreement.”

She pulled a document from her expensive handbag and placed it on the table in front of Yan Run.

Yan Run read it carefully.

It was a contract. A marriage agreement, with terms laid out by both parties.

The conditions were clear:
• The Omega had no authority over the Alpha’s personal choices.

• The Alpha was not allowed to forcibly mark the Omega.

• The Alpha couldn’t interfere with the Omega’s career—under any circumstances.

Essentially, it was a marriage in name only. They will be legal spouses, but functionally… colleagues.

The last clause stated the marriage would only last one year.

Yan Run guessed the time limit was there to placate their families. If things didn’t work out, they could just quietly divorce. Besides, both families would have gotten the political and financial benefits they wanted by then.

Her eyes paused on the signature line. Yep—definitely her handwriting.

She rubbed her temples.

What kind of idiotic deal had she agreed to before she lost her memory?

“What do you think?” Yu Wenxi asked coolly.

Yan Run stared out the window at the cherry blossom tree in full bloom. Petals drifted like pink snow into the koi pond beside it.

“…Are you sure we can’t refuse this?”

“If we could, do you think we’d have needed this ridiculous contract?” Yu Wenxi stood up, her perfume trailing behind her like a cold breeze.

“I don’t have time to argue with you. If you say you have amnesia, fine—I’ll pretend to believe you. But you’re still the Second Miss of the Yan family. Think carefully. When you’ve made your decision, message me.”

With that, she left.

“Su He,” Yan Run called out.

“Yes, Second Miss?” The housekeeper hurried over.

“What does Miss Yu do for a living? Is she some kind of executive in the family business?”

Su He chuckled. “Oh no, Second Miss. Miss Yu is a top-tier celebrity. One of the biggest names in the entertainment industry. She’s absolutely gorgeous—no wonder she became a star. Every drama and movie she has been in for the past two years has been a huge hit. Her fan threads are in the tens of thousands. She has over 30 million followers on Weibo. People adore her.”

“A celebrity, huh…” Yan Run thought for a moment. Her own account barely had five million followers. She couldn’t compete with someone like that.

That night, she lay awake thinking about the marriage agreement.

Family pressure… wasn’t something either of them could easily shake off.

And honestly, the arrangement wouldn’t really affect her life.

As long as Yu Wenxi didn’t try to kiss her or mark her, it would be fine. Maybe she should even pretend she was incapable of marking, just in case. What if Yu Wenxi went crazy one day and wanted to have a child with her?

Just the thought of pregnancy made Yan Run think of marking. And that made her think of Alpha-Omega intimacy—those breathy moans and saliva-soaked kisses…

Urgh.

She bolted to the bathroom.

Why did humans have to be cursed with such base desires?

Still, from the looks of Yu Wenxi—so distant, so disciplined—she didn’t seem like the type to want kids. She didn’t even take romantic roles; her dramas were always female-lead empowerment stories.

That reassured Yan Run.

She smiled to herself.

Fine. Let’s do what the families want.

She picked up her phone, ready to send Yu Wenxi her decision.

Only to realize…

She couldn’t find Yu Wenxi on WeChat.

Her mind froze.

Oh no.

She remembered—she’d deleted Yu Wenxi during her contact purge.