After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine (GL) - Chapter 17

Pei Jiuyao didn’t just black out when she drank too much.

She also turned clingy and muddled, like a dazed little puppy. Her thoughts became a tangled mess, drifting wherever they pleased.

But she never realized this.

Because she always blacked out.

So, in her mind, the idea that she shouldn’t drink didn’t exist at all.

Wen Li, seeing her staggering and disoriented, gave a soft “oh” before stuffing Pei Jiuyao into the back seat.

She didn’t know who this “wife” Pei Jiuyao kept murmuring about was—but among those close to her, only Chu Si remained a likely candidate.

Wen Li patted Pei Jiuyao on the shoulder. “Call Chu Si, okay? Want me to stay with you until she comes?”

What does this have to do with Chu Si?

Pei Jiuyao rubbed her temples, confused. When she heard Wen Li offer to stay, she shook her head quickly.

Wen Li didn’t know Chi Yang had turned into an Omega. She couldn’t be seen with her.

“You have to make a call, alright?”

Drunken Pei Jiuyao wasn’t unusual, so Wen Li wasn’t too worried.

She pulled her hand away, her knuckles tapping against the cold car door. With a soft sigh, she decided she’d done enough and walked away, shutting the door behind her.

Pei Jiuyao slumped against it, woozy and out of sorts.

She’d already forgotten about her earlier fight with Chi Yang, but one thing she still remembered clearly: Chi Yang had told her, “If you’ve been drinking, don’t come home.”

That sentence struck her all over again—this time with a wave of helplessness. Pei Jiuyao fumbled with her phone, blurry-eyed, cheeks flushed. She found Chi Yang’s number and hovered her fingertip over the screen… then pulled it away.

She was scared to call.

But there was no one else she could call.

How pitiful, she thought.

She just wanted to go home.

She hadn’t eaten dinner, drank a ridiculous amount of baijiu for no good reason, and now her stomach felt like it was on fire—so bad it was about to burn her tears out.

She shrugged off her coat, curled it up and hugged it close, collapsing into the car seat.

The jacket was rumpled, her wine-red hair messy like a pool of thick bl00d against the black leather seat.

Eyes drooping, she sniffled softly.

Forget it.

She stared at her phone. It was so cold. She just wanted to go home.

Her stomach hurt so bad that even a minute’s delay felt deadly—as if she’d drown in the icy, knife-like pain carved by alcohol.

She called once. Chi Yang immediately hung up.

Her eyes reddened further, tears trembling on the edge.

She called again. It rang for a long time… then was hung up again.

Through the darkened car window, she could see leaves swirling in the wind, rustling across the empty night.

The moon hung like a copper coin in the sky. The world felt silent and deserted—like she was the only one left.

And then Pei Jiuyao thought of her mother.

If her mom knew something had happened to her daughter—how heartbroken would she be?

She was only twenty-three.

A sudden pang laced through her chest, like a needle threading through her heart, leaving behind countless little holes.

She looked down and called a third time.

Ten seconds passed—or maybe thirty. The mechanical tone felt like it was tearing through the darkness.

Forget it. She must sound crazy.

Just as she was about to hang up, Chi Yang picked up.

Right at that moment, Pei Jiuyao gave a soft sob.

There was a pause on the other end.

“What’s wrong?” Chi Yang finally asked. “Couldn’t close the deal?”

Alcohol dulled Pei Jiuyao’s brain. All those spiraling, sad thoughts came crashing back to earth.

“We signed it,” she whispered.

“Then why are you calling me?”

The cold tone felt like a slap. Her hand shook, almost dropping the phone.

“My stomach really hurts,” Pei Jiuyao fluttered her lashes, voice unsteady.

“You’ve been drinking?”

“Mhm.” Her head was heavy. “Aren’t I impressive?”

Chi Yang actually let out a laugh of disbelief. What was impressive about drinking?

She tightened her grip on the phone, still expressionless, but her tone softened. “Where are you now?”

“Parking lot…”

Her voice was faint, barely awake.

“Is Wen Li still with you? Why didn’t you go home?” Chi Yang, for some reason, had already grabbed her coat.

“I told her to leave… Mmm, I said you will come get me. But then I remembered—you’re still mad at me.”

Little brat.

Chi Yang clenched her jaw. “Send me your location.”

A few seconds passed. Then Pei Jiuyao sighed. “Forget it. You’ll just get mad again. All your goodwill toward me will be gone.”

Goodwill? Chi Yang’s brow twitched slightly.

Then she heard Pei Jiuyao mumble, “I’ll ask someone else to come…”

Someone else.

Chu Si?

Annoyance flickered in Chi Yang’s chest. People like Pei Jiuyao who didn’t take agreements seriously—what they needed was… to be tied up.

“Then why did you call me?”

“…Wanted to hear your voice,” Pei Jiuyao said quietly. “It’s lonely. Being alone.”

So lonely. Alone.

Something twisted sharply in Chi Yang’s chest, like an invisible hand clutching her throat.

Her breath caught. Her voice cooled immediately.

“Send me the location. I’ll come get you.”

________________________________________

Chi Yang was still rattled when her assistant dropped her off at home.

The whole thing with Song Mo and Chu Si—too shocking. It made her wonder if she was the problem.

She had always been the obedient, clean-hearted Omega—she’d never even dated anyone.

Was it because of Pei Jiuyao?

Right now, courtesy and dignity were meaningless to her. She took out her phone and quickly explained her “contractual relationship” with Pei Jiuyao to Song Mo.

She shouldn’t have waited so long. There was no reason to keep it hidden.

She had hesitated because the arrangement felt unfair to Pei Jiuyao—

Again, Pei Jiuyao.

The fact that she got mad at her that afternoon felt absurd.

This was supposed to be a business arrangement. If Pei Jiuyao couldn’t follow the agreement, then she should have been dealt with harshly.

Getting angry was foolish. Pointless.

They’d barely been around each other a week—and yet her guard kept slipping.

Was it just because Pei Jiuyao had called her “little Pei baby”?

Must be the mark.

Chi Yang ran a hand through her hair, irritated. Her fingers were still trembling as she set her phone down.

Pei Jiuyao had sent the location of an open-air parking lot.

By the time Chi Yang arrived, the place was nearly empty. She parked without thinking, pulled on a hat and mask, and circled the lot until she found the car.

Through the window, she saw Pei Jiuyao curled up in the passenger seat, her eyelashes still glittering with tears.

So dramatic.

Still just a kid—what was she pretending to be so mature for?

Chi Yang scoffed under her breath. But the moment she remembered Pei Jiuyao saying “It’s so lonely,” her chest pinched again.

Chi Yang had hidden her identity when she debuted, clawed her way up inch by inch. She knew how hard it was for artists without connections.

Everyone in the industry had to claw their way up. Chi Yang had never questioned it.

But looking at Pei Jiuyao now, she suddenly felt—this whole business was rotten.

It looked shiny on the outside, but inside it was full of decay—festering wounds that disgusted her.

She stood straight and knocked on the window.

Pei Jiuyao blinked herself upright, and when she saw Chi Yang through the glass, the corners of her eyes curved into a smile.

She pushed the door. It didn’t budge. She looked up, dazed.

So dumb, Chi Yang thought.

But she still found herself smiling a little.

The moment she opened the door, though, her expression cooled.

“Can you walk?”

Pei Jiuyao nodded.

Chi Yang pulled a hat onto her head and adjusted the brim. “Take my car.”

Another nod. She locked her own car and trailed behind Chi Yang, who shoved her into the passenger seat.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Pei Jiuyao seemed unusually tame—like a stray dog that had finally been taken in.

She struggled to buckle her seatbelt, fumbling with the latch, getting frustrated.

Chi Yang leaned over and clicked it in with a soft snap.

Pei Jiuyao tugged on the strap uncomfortably, then turned toward Chi Yang, eyes still glazed.

She’s still mad, isn’t she?

Chi Yang buckled herself in, then suddenly turned to face her. Her light brown eyes glinted.

“What?” Her voice was cool. “Don’t throw up in my car.”

Pei Jiuyao frowned. “I don’t feel like throwing up.”

“Then why are you staring at me?”

“…Your lips are so red, Chi Yang. That color looks amazing.”

Chi Yang pressed her lips together. “I’m not wearing lipstick.”

“No lipstick… means we can kiss. But I drank, I’m dirty.” Her voice was small.

Chi Yang’s lashes fluttered. What?

“No kissing. I said I don’t kiss.”

“Oh.” Pei Jiuyao just sat there, staring.

Worried her breath might smell of alcohol, she quickly put on a mask.

The engine roared to life, masking her unsteady breathing.

Chi Yang’s ears tinged red. She bit her lip lightly, a pale crescent mark fading from her skin.

Her lashes trembled nonstop.

The soft sensation from before still lingered in her memory—almost as if it had carved itself into her fingertips.

She wanted to touch her again.

Before Pei Jiuyao could think any further, Chi Yang warned her, “Stop distracting me while I drive.”

Pei Jiuyao turned her head away immediately.

Oddly, having Chi Yang nearby felt… safe.

That shouldn’t have been the case. This woman basically held her life in her hands. “Safe” didn’t belong anywhere near her.

Pei Jiuyao couldn’t understand why Chi Yang had even come to pick her up.

There was no better word to describe their relationship than fate.

But fate was a fragile lie people told themselves to feel safe.

Chi Yang was so perfect, her silhouette illuminated faintly in the dark sports car. The shadows made her bones look even more beautiful.

Pei Jiuyao thought—this is what jade born on flawless bone must look like.

They arrived at the underground parking garage of the complex.

And suddenly, Chi Yang had a different thought.

She poked Pei Jiuyao’s shoulder, waking her up, then looked straight into her eyes.

“Do you like me?”

Pei Jiuyao stared into those glazed-glass eyes. Her fingers tightened around the seatbelt.

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Can’t answer that?” Chi Yang’s gaze dimmed.

“I… I don’t know.”

She thought she liked her. But how much of that was the mark? How much was real? How was she supposed to know?

Chi Yang’s expression darkened completely.

“You could say it when we signed the agreement. You could say it after we slept together. But now you can’t?”

Pei Jiuyao’s voice trembled. “It’s not that I can’t—I’m just not sure.”

She reached out toward her. “Let me think. My head’s not clear right now.”

“So you can’t say you like me?” Chi Yang grabbed her wrist—her eyes hooked like barbs.

Pei Jiuyao froze, stunned.

Her wrist brushed lightly against Chi Yang’s fingertips.

Then she heard Chi Yang laugh softly. “What, too afraid to lie now?”

“Pei Jiuyao,” she repeated the name slowly, almost tasting it. Her thumb gently traced the bone of Pei Jiuyao’s wrist.

Then she asked, coolly, calmly:

“Are you really Pei Jiuyao?”