After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine (GL) - Chapter 18.2

She paused slightly after saying “with me,” then continued, “Besides, I’ve already told Song Mo. If this relationship lasts long, it won’t stay a secret. Since it’s in our agreement, I’ll help you. But I also hope you’ll stick to it—don’t get involved with any other Omegas.”

Then she added, “Alphas and Betas too.”

Pei Jiuyao chose to ignore the “not that talented” comment and replied calmly, “Of course I won’t.”

After a while, Chi Yang asked, “Why are you so determined to be on this variety show?”

“To sing a song I wrote for you.”

In truth, she just wanted Chi Yang to see her in a different light—and hopefully rack up some affection points while she was at it.

Still, what she said wasn’t a lie.

Chi Yang gave a soft “oh,” her voice indifferent. “Eat.”

Pei Jiuyao moved closer and smiled gently. “Thanks.”

She noticed Chi Yang seemed a little uneasy—and for some reason, it made her recall 7023’s cryptic “this morning” remark.

So what exactly happened this morning? Chi Yang must’ve looked through Pei Jiuyao’s phone—there was no other way she could’ve known about the terminated contract.

The curiosity was killing her.

________________________________________

[Earlier That Morning]

When Chi Yang stepped out, the living room was empty.

Pei Jiuyao had only been staying there a few days, yet Chi Yang had already developed a reflex—almost expecting someone to greet her with a cheerful “breakfast’s ready.”

After washing up, she felt uneasy again. Given how out of it Pei Jiuyao was last night… hopefully that drunk fool hadn’t passed out and suffocated herself.

With that thought, she poured a glass of honey water and, out of humanitarian concern, peeked into the guest room.

Pei Jiuyao was still asleep.

In her sleep, she whimpered, curled up, with sweat forming at her temples.

Chi Yang remembered Pei Jiuyao mentioning a stomach condition. Frowning, she stepped inside and sat on the bed.

Sweat trickled from Pei Jiuyao’s forehead onto the pillow, her face pale as paper.

Chi Yang gently nudged her and asked, “Where does it hurt? Do you need a hospital?”

Pei Jiuyao clutched her lower abdomen tightly and mumbled in her sleep, “Stomach hurts… Mommy, rub it for me…”

…Mommy?

Chi Yang’s face flushed a little.

Still, she figured she’d earned that “Mommy” title—it would be wrong not to help, otherwise she really would just be taking advantage.

“Where does it hurt?” she murmured, curling the corner of her eye in amusement. She took off her shoes, sat on the bed, warmed her palms, and reached under the blanket to press gently on Pei Jiuyao’s lower stomach.

Her figure was quite nice—her lower belly was surprisingly soft.

Pei Jiuyao eventually rolled over and rested her head on Chi Yang’s lap, while Chi Yang’s warm hand gently massaged her abdomen.

The phone on the side table lit up. Chi Yang glanced over—it was Wen Li calling.

She ignored it. The phone was on silent, so it didn’t wake Pei Jiuyao.

But it rang multiple times. Finally, Wen Li must’ve given up and sent a message.

The lock screen flashed the preview—and just happened to show the name “Producer Chen.”

Chi Yang hesitated briefly, then reached for the phone.

________________________________________

After dinner, Chi Yang made no attempt to keep Pei Jiuyao around.

In fact, she seemed unusually awkward—almost like she wanted to drive her out but couldn’t quite say it outright.

Honestly, a blunt “get lost” would’ve fit Chi Yang’s character more than this subtle dance.

Then again, Pei Jiuyao had gotten drunk and likely caused trouble the night before.

But her behavior was so strange it made Pei Jiuyao even more curious about what had actually happened that morning—not that she could just ask directly.

Still, she’d earned some affection points, and she wasn’t planning to push her luck.

It was time to focus on the variety show.

She called her driver to retrieve her car, then drove herself back to her apartment downtown.

Only when she sat down to write a song did she realize—she couldn’t do it.

[“You only inherited musical talent, so your academic level is still that of the original host.”]

—7023’s explanation was blunt.

Pei Jiuyao could only recall fragments of songs she’d written in the past, patching together a complete piece.

It didn’t look great—but if she tried writing something new now, it would be worse.

She’d said it was a gift for Chi Yang, but at this point it just felt half-hearted.

Still, a half-hearted effort was better than screwing up completely.

[“So… you’re really going to sing to the female lead?”]

—7023 sounded curious.

“Of course. Why waste a good opportunity?”

[“Even if it’s just pheromone influence?”]

“Well, I’m not going to die, am I?” Pei Jiuyao chuckled. “Why are you so chatty today?”

7023 went quiet for a moment before replying:

[“My previous host once said she’d rather die than pursue someone she didn’t love.”]

“She sounds… interesting,” Pei Jiuyao muttered as she packed up the lyrics. “What happened to her?”

[“No idea. Probably close to dying.”]

This time, it was Pei Jiuyao’s turn to fall silent.

At least she had feelings for Chi Yang, she thought to herself.

The original host couldn’t sing and didn’t even own a guitar. So Pei Jiuyao drove to the company, booked a recording booth, and holed up there for three days.

Three days later, she received a message from Chi Yang:

“Do you want to go to Nangang together?”

________________________________________

Nangang was where the variety show Bonfire Music Festival was being filmed. Originally, recording was scheduled over two days, and the guests for Day 1 were already locked in. Pei Jiuyao had only managed to secure a slot for the second day.

She assumed Chi Yang would head there separately.

After all, ever since their heat cycle ended, Chi Yang had barely contacted her—unless Pei Jiuyao reached out first.

So she expected they’d just run into each other at Nangang.

But then Chi Yang’s sudden invitation came.

Pei Jiuyao’s first reaction was disbelief.

Even telling Wen Li she’d be riding in Chi Yang’s car felt like a dream.

Wen Li raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask questions—just let her go.

The drive from Haishi to Nangang took nearly ten hours. They left at 10 PM, arriving the next morning.

Pei Jiuyao’s van followed behind Chi Yang’s. She left her assistant Jiang Tian in the van and slipped into Chi Yang’s car instead.

Jiang Tian didn’t seem to want to be near her anyway—she even looked relieved when Pei Jiuyao left.

That afternoon, filming would begin. Chi Yang napped after getting in the car.

Pei Jiuyao didn’t disturb her. She quietly snacked on some fruit Ye Ci had packed.

The sweet-sour tang of strawberries lingered on her tongue—and suddenly, a ticklish feeling stirred in her heart.

There were only the two of them in the back. Pei Jiuyao leaned over to sniff the back of Chi Yang’s neck but didn’t catch any scent of pheromones. Disappointed, she slumped back into her seat.

Chi Yang wasn’t actually asleep. She felt a warm breath brush against her neck and instinctively shrank away.

She was nearly used to Pei Jiuyao’s antics by now. These small gestures no longer caught her off guard—she could suppress her reactions almost effortlessly.

But not long after, she felt Pei Jiuyao sniffing around the side of her neck again. This time, she’d had enough and turned around.

Pei Jiuyao’s eyes widened in surprise, her face just half a centimeter from Chi Yang’s.

Their noses brushed. Tiny beads of sweat formed between them.

Startled, Pei Jiuyao quickly pulled back, forked a piece of strawberry into her mouth, and pretended nothing had happened.

Chi Yang, wrapped in a blanket, turned to her with a sharp tone. “What are you trying to do now?”

“Nothing,” Pei Jiuyao replied innocently. “The strawberry was too sour. I wanted to balance it out with your scent.”

“You think I’m a sugar cube?” Chi Yang narrowed her eyes at her.

“Of course not,” Pei Jiuyao leaned in, voice low. “But you’re sweet.”

Chi Yang paused, then let out a quiet laugh and said nothing more.

After a few days apart, Pei Jiuyao felt that Chi Yang seemed to have mellowed.

Maybe the two temporary marks had helped Chi Yang grow more accustomed to their agreed-upon arrangement.

The dynamic was still complicated, but in Chi Yang’s eyes, Pei Jiuyao no longer seemed like the “scumbag” she had once labeled her.

Chi Yang thought, Maybe I can be a little more tolerant of her.

Seeing Chi Yang smile, Pei Jiuyao softly asked, “Can I have a bit of your pheromones?”

“What for? Are you entering heat?” Chi Yang, an Alpha by nature, habitually referred to heats as “sensitivity periods.”

“Probably not yet,” Pei Jiuyao admitted. She didn’t really know—she just craved Chi Yang’s scent lately.

Head lowered, she pressed her lips together. “I just want to smell you.”

The driver was a Beta, and the assistant was in another car. With a sigh, Chi Yang removed her wristband and released a faint trace of pheromones with her eyes closed.

Pei Jiuyao breathed it in like a satisfied cat, even rubbing her cheek against the strawberry container.

But the scent dissipated quickly.

Noticing Chi Yang in a good mood today, Pei Jiuyao boldly asked again.

“Any more and you’ll trigger your sensitivity,” Chi Yang sighed. “Our pheromone compatibility is high, after all.”

“Oh…” Pei Jiuyao bit the fork and turned to ask, “What’s the highest compatibility you’ve had with someone else?”

Chi Yang was quiet for a moment, then said plainly, “Zero.”

“I underwent a secondary differentiation. I can’t be marked, and pheromones don’t soothe me.”

Pei Jiuyao’s eyes lit up. “So I’m the only one?”

Chi Yang kept her eyes closed, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

She had originally planned never to tell Pei Jiuyao that—didn’t want her getting cocky. But after just a short time together, Chi Yang’s guard had already started to drop.

It wasn’t exactly a secret anyway. And Pei Jiuyao didn’t have the leverage to use her pheromones as a threat.

When Chi Yang dozed off under the blanket, Pei Jiuyao set the strawberries aside and leaned against the window, watching the scenery outside.

The night was foggy. As the car sped along the highway, layers of distant mountains came into view.

In the valleys, scattered temple lights glimmered before vanishing into the thick mist at the next bend.

By dawn, only the occasional headlights and glowing road signs remained.

Pei Jiuyao suddenly thought of a lullaby her mother used to sing. In the dark stillness, she hummed it softly.

She was tired, but not sleepy. Pulling the blanket over her, she reclined the seat and lay beside Chi Yang, watching her sleep.

Chi Yang looked so peaceful—none of the allure that came with being in heat, none of the cold detachment she usually wore. Just… gentle.

Her lashes lay against porcelain skin, nostrils faintly flaring, lips softly pressed together.

Without makeup, her lips were pink like an unripe strawberry glazed with honey—tempting enough to bite.

But she’d said no kissing.

Pei Jiuyao’s lashes trembled as she tore her gaze away.

Even though system 7023 had said the next round of affection points wouldn’t be updated until after the variety show, Pei Jiuyao didn’t think getting close to the heroine early was a bad thing.

Chi Yang stirred in her sleep, eyes half-lidded, murmuring, “What were you humming?”

“A lullaby. Did you like it?”

Chi Yang mumbled, “It was nice,” then fell asleep again.

Pei Jiuyao gently patted her shoulder and continued humming.

The tight crease between Chi Yang’s brows slowly relaxed, her breathing growing even and soft.

By the time the sky began to pale, Chi Yang had woken up.

Pei Jiuyao’s room was next to hers—probably arranged that way by the production team after Chi Yang had spoken to Producer Chen.

Once assistants and staff helped bring their luggage in, Pei Jiuyao still wanted to linger. She leaned close to Chi Yang’s ear and whispered, “Chi Yang, what are you doing later?”

“Catching up on sleep.”

With that, and without looking back, Chi Yang closed the door on her.

Pei Jiuyao stared at the shut door, muttering, “So heartless. I even gave you a bedtime serenade. Use me and toss me, huh?”

Just then, Jiang Tian came out with the crew.

When she saw Pei Jiuyao, she averted her eyes, voice meek: “Pei-jie, is there any more work?”

Pei Jiuyao knew Jiang Tian was an Omega.

Most Alphas or Omegas preferred hiring Beta assistants—no heat, no scent interference, less hassle.

Someone like her keeping a pretty Omega around? Probably not for wholesome reasons.

She might’ve even sexually harassed the poor girl once, judging by how Jiang Tian wouldn’t meet her gaze.

Pei Jiuyao walked over and said firmly, “Look at me.”

Jiang Tian flinched, then abruptly raised her head. “Pei-jie.”

“Relax. You’ve worked hard. Go get some rest.” Pei Jiuyao gave the young Omega a gentle smile and returned to her room.

One wall away, after an all-nighter, Pei Jiuyao still couldn’t sleep.

Chi Yang’s attitude had clearly shifted. It wasn’t just the second temporary mark bringing affection points up to ten.

Even the things she’d once been unwilling to share, she now explained without much thought.

They were at least more than just acquaintances now, right?

After all, who calls their bed partner a friend unless there’s some affection involved?

But… this was Chi Yang—the cold beauty admired by all, serious even in bed.

If not for their 100% pheromone compatibility, she probably wouldn’t even look at Pei Jiuyao.

Gaining affection from her was nearly impossible.

Still, Pei Jiuyao kept thinking about that moment in the car—how Chi Yang had said her humming was beautiful.

Pei Jiuyao knew she could sing, but hearing it from Chi Yang felt completely different.

She sighed. Her mind was full of Chi Yang—how could she sleep like this?

Despite never having had a smoking habit, Pei Jiuyao actually felt like lighting up.

She remembered Jiang Tian had tucked a pack of cigarettes into her luggage.

She’d considered removing it earlier but figured maybe it was part of the original Pei Jiuyao’s habits, so she left it in.

Turned out it came in handy.

Pei Jiuyao chuckled dryly, pulled out the pack, and stepped onto the balcony with a silver lighter patterned with ornate engravings.

The wind was strong. Her white shirt and black trousers fluttered as she stepped out. She’d untucked the shirt in the heat, and two buttons were undone.

As she stepped outside, the breeze whipped her shirt and long wine-red hair back in one sweeping motion.

With a click, the lighter sparked. She cupped her hands against the wind and lit the cigarette.

The flame sizzled as it caught, burning the paper inch by inch.

Smoke mixed with leather and a trace of chocolate spread through her mouth.

As the smoke dissipated, so did her restlessness.

She couldn’t quite figure Chi Yang out—hot and cold, always a step away. One wrong word or gesture, and the fragile thread between them would snap.

But Pei Jiuyao knew: Chi Yang liked it when she acted cute.

She found that out the night she got drunk, even if she didn’t remember much of it. The affection points had jumped to ten.

Chi Yang liked it—and Pei Jiuyao was happy to oblige.

Maybe it was because Chi Yang, during heat, was so soft and passive.

That kind of person liked it when Pei Jiuyao also let down her guard.

But Pei Jiuyao understood—any relationship held together by pretending to be weak was always on shaky ground.

If trust wasn’t mutual, the whole thing could collapse at any moment.

Leaning her arms on the balcony railing, she looked out.

The variety show wasn’t filming in the city. From here, you could see an endless stretch of sea.

The air was at least ten degrees warmer than in Haishi. Even the early morning breeze didn’t feel that cold.

She raised the cigarette to her lips again when she heard a door slide open next door.

She didn’t think much of it—Ye Ci had mentioned the floors were full of production staff.

Everyone online knew she was filming. Nothing to hide.

But when the person stepped out, tousling wet hair, she froze.

It was Chi Yang.

She’d said she was going to sleep. Pei Jiuyao hadn’t expected her.

She looked like she’d just showered, wearing soft white cotton pajamas. Her skin was pink from the steam, eyes misty.

When she spotted Pei Jiuyao, she paused. “You smoke?”

Pei Jiuyao gave a soft “oh,” quickly pinched out the cigarette, and tossed it in the trash.

Red bloomed on her fingertips. She rubbed them and asked, “Didn’t sleep?”

“Filming starts this afternoon. Too lazy to nap. Just needed a shower to wake up.”

The wind carried the faint scent of smoke. Pei Jiuyao saw Chi Yang frown.

“You don’t like it?” Pei Jiuyao said quickly. “I won’t do it again.”

Chi Yang leaned on the railing and looked at her with a smirk. “Think you can quit?”

The wind messed up her curls and blew away the flush from her cheeks.

Pei Jiuyao walked over, resting her arms on the glass divider between them. “I never had an addiction. Nothing to quit.”

“If you weren’t addicted, why smoke…” Chi Yang tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling faintly. “Bad mood?”

“Let me inside. It’s freezing out here,” Pei Jiuyao blinked at her.

Chi Yang glanced sideways. “Maybe try buttoning your shirt?”

Pei Jiuyao looked down—she’d unbuttoned two at some point, revealing part of her black bra.

Laughing, she did them back up.

Chi Yang didn’t say yes or no. She just pushed open the door and went inside.

Pei Jiuyao brushed her teeth, changed clothes, and shamelessly knocked on the door again.