After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine (GL) - Chapter 19.2

This woman—always carrying herself with careless arrogance, hiding behind a mask of perpetual amusement. It was impossible to get a read on her.

Her career hadn’t exactly gone smoothly. Her resources were average, many hand-me-downs from Pei Jiuyao.

No obvious backing. No real ambition either. She just drifted through.

If she had one edge over Pei Jiuyao, it was that she didn’t make many enemies.

In Chi Yang’s eyes, Chu Si wasn’t even worthy of applauding on her red-carpet path paved with flowers and fame.

Chi Yang didn’t want to waste any more energy on her. She set down her glass and closed her eyes to rest.

Suddenly, Chu Si chuckled again. “She’s here.”

Chi Yang’s eyes flew open—and in front of her was Meng Yu.

Strictly speaking, she was Chi Yang’s senior. They’d been in the same agency when Chi Yang debuted.

Meng Yu was two years older and already famous at the time.

Back then, Chi Yang had a falling out with her family and kept her background hidden. Her aloof pride made it hard for her to fit in.

Meng Yu had helped her a lot.

“Shi-jie.” That’s what Chi Yang had always called her.

Meng Yu smiled and nodded toward Chu Si. “You know Xiao Chu?”

“Not really. Just sat here randomly.” Chi Yang replied.

Chu Si, sensing her cue, got up politely.

“Well, now that the person you were waiting for is here, I’ll leave you two alone.”

Chi Yang nodded slightly, not wanting to make a scene in front of others.

As Chu Si turned to leave, she suddenly looked back, smirked, and leaned down to whisper,

“But Senior… who were you looking for just now?”

Then she vanished into the crowd.

Chi Yang frowned at the breath brushing against her ear. She rubbed her earlobe uncomfortably and quickly turned to scan the staff members.

“Chi Yang,” Meng Yu said gently, sitting beside her. “What are you looking for?”

“Nothing,” Chi Yang replied, her gaze still scanning the crowd. “Is it about to start?”

“Three more minutes,” Meng Yu checked the time, smiling. “We haven’t seen each other in ages.

Ever since you started your own studio, you’ve been hard to find.”

On the other side, the director shouted, “Everyone get ready! We’re going live in…”

Amid the shuffle of bodies and countdown shouts, Chi Yang finally spotted Pei Jiuyao.

She was dressed in all black, wearing a cap and a mask. Her red hair was twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck, almost blending into the noisy night.

She must’ve run here—her chest was still rising and falling as she adjusted her cap and caught her breath.

As the countdown reached “one,” Chi Yang gave a soft smile toward the camera in that direction.

________________________________________

Chi Yang was dressed in full vintage style tonight.

A crimson dress reminiscent of a bygone era hugged her pale skin. Her lips were tinted a deep brick-red, and her hair had been styled into light brown retro curls that matched the warm hue of her irises.

Seated casually in a chair, arms resting on her thighs, she let the sea breeze lift her skirt and tousle her hair.

In the glow of the bonfire, she looked stunning—vivid, radiant.

She usually went for a cool-toned palette—blues, greens, greys. It was rare to see her in anything red.

There wasn’t a single photo online of Chi Yang in a red dress.

Pei Jiuyao wouldn’t dare claim credit—it would be ridiculously self-absorbed to assume it had anything to do with her red hair.

But behind her mask, she couldn’t hide the small smile creeping up her face.

She reached up to touch her hair unconsciously, then took out her phone.

The top trending hashtag was already: #ChiYangRedDress

She tapped into the tag and began saving the flood of photos and praise one by one.

“Hmph,” she thought smugly.

“Guess I’ll let everyone feast their eyes tonight.”

After all,

there’s one red dress… only I’ve ever seen.

She slipped her phone back into her pocket and looked up—her eyes locking on Chi Yang.

No matter where she was, Chi Yang always seemed to be the center of it all.

The spotlight clung to her, conversations gravitated toward her, and the entire music show was slowly turning into her personal solo stage.

Even when Chi Yang tried to deflect attention, the other singers naturally brought it back to her.

Part of that was due to screen time.

But it was also clear—many of them genuinely adored her.

The strong sea wind whipped her dress like flames—she didn’t need to do anything, and still, everyone watched her.

She and the original “Pei Jiuyao” came from two completely different worlds.

But seeing Chi Yang so loved, Pei Jiuyao couldn’t help but feel happy for her.

She had looked it up online—aside from promotional appearances for her dramas, Chi Yang had rarely participated in variety shows. At first, Pei Jiuyao had worried she wouldn’t be used to it.

For the finale performance, Chi Yang chose an old Hong Kong-style song that perfectly matched her vintage look for the night.

Facing the sea breeze, she picked up the microphone, and Pei Jiuyao was completely immersed in her voice.

It was crisp like wine, slowly unfolding a story, laced with starry skies and lingering night air.

She was cool and untouchable, yet alluring in every sense.

When the song ended and Chi Yang opened her eyes, her gaze met Pei Jiuyao’s.

Pei Jiuyao was sure she wasn’t mistaken.

She hadn’t smiled at the camera—but at her.

Hidden in the shadows, carefully avoiding all the live equipment, Pei Jiuyao took off her mask and smiled back, her eyes glowing.

Not far away, Chi Yang lowered her head and the corners of her lips curled again.

________________________________________

After the show ended, Ye Ci came to find Pei Jiuyao and brought her to Chi Yang’s dressing room.

When they walked in, Chi Yang was already inside, removing her makeup.

“Take a seat for a bit,” Chi Yang said, motioning to the sofa.

“Okay.” Pei Jiuyao took off her hat and mask, sat down, and gently kicked her toes against the carpet.

After removing her makeup, Chi Yang threw on a jacket. Her lips had returned to a soft rose-pink, and her skin remained porcelain pale.

Once she dismissed the makeup artist and Ye Ci, she sat beside Pei Jiuyao, picked up a bottle of mineral water, and struggled to open it. Her expression darkened slightly.

Pei Jiuyao smiled and reached over, twisting the cap open with ease and handing it to her.

Seeing how effortlessly she opened it, Chi Yang frowned. “It’s definitely because I differentiated into an Omega. I used to be strong.”

“That’s clearly your problem,” Pei Jiuyao chuckled.

Chi Yang raised the bottle to her lips, then paused and glared at her.

Pei Jiuyao added, “Why bother doing it yourself when I’m right here?”

Chi Yang snorted lightly at her and finally took a sip.

“Did you watch the show properly?” she asked, setting the bottle down.

“Not really,” Pei Jiuyao replied.

Chi Yang frowned.

Pei Jiuyao immediately pouted and whined, “You looked so good tonight—I couldn’t look at anything else.”

Chi Yang let out a scoff. “You’re getting bolder by the day.”

Pei Jiuyao licked her lips and mumbled, “I stood the whole time… two and a half hours. My legs are sore.”

“No one told you not to watch from the hotel.”

“That would’ve been so boring. I just wanted to see you in person. Didn’t you feel even a little happy when you saw me?”

Chi Yang cleared her throat. “I wasn’t unhappy.”

“Really?” Pei Jiuyao said softly, testing the waters. “Then could you massage my legs? I’m exhausted.”

Chi Yang turned to look at her.

She wasn’t sure when it started, but Pei Jiuyao had become increasingly clingy.

Probably ever since that night she got drunk and realized Chi Yang had a soft spot for her clinginess.

Chi Yang didn’t want to spoil her.

But having this clingy little pup around… wasn’t so bad.

She reached out and gave Pei Jiuyao’s raised leg a quick, symbolic squeeze—deliberately pressing harder than needed.

Pei Jiuyao grimaced in pain.

“With skills like that, you think I would rely on you?” Chi Yang glanced at her indifferently, then picked up her water again.

Pei Jiuyao immediately lifted her leg higher. “You can press however you want. I promise I won’t complain.”

Chi Yang chuckled softly. “Go on. Get changed and head back to the hotel.”

“Come on, just a bit…” Pei Jiuyao said.

“I’m tired.” Chi Yang replied.

“…Okay.”

Pei Jiuyao slumped, grabbed her hat and mask, and trudged out the door.

________________________________________

Back at the hotel, Chi Yang poured herself a glass of cold water, feeling an unexpected surge of irritation.

Chu Si seemed to know a lot about Pei Jiuyao. She could even identify her scent and spot her in a crowd.

And she clearly knew about her relationship with Pei Jiuyao.

Had Pei Jiuyao told her?

Now she had one more reason to dislike Chu Si.

It felt like something that belonged to her had been tainted.

In the bathroom, she turned on the shower. Hot water poured out, fogging up the glass with a milky mist.

Chi Yang pressed her palm to the condensation, and clear droplets slid down.

Amid the rising steam, the pink pads of her fingertips appeared.

Frustrated, she pumped some body wash, the water sliding down her collarbone, mixing with foam and a light fragrance, cloaking her porcelain skin.

Quickly, her skin flushed pink from the heat.

Her fingers curled slowly against the fogged-up glass. She rubbed weakly at the gland on the back of her neck, then let her hand fall.

Heavy breaths mixed with the sound of falling water.

…

She pushed the door open forcefully and grabbed a towel.

On the trending list, her name and Pei Jiuyao’s appeared—one at the top, one lower down, while Pei Jiuyao’s was next to Chu Si’s.

Chi Yang wiped her hands and clicked in.

The program’s official account had announced the next day’s guest. In the comment section, Chu Si had posted:

“Please take good care of my little Pei ○∪○”

Pei Jiuyao had replied with a meme:

[Clingy puppy.jpg]

Chi Yang let out a cold laugh, shut off her phone, and tossed it onto the bed.

Who knows what Pei Jiuyao was doing?

Might as well tie her up—she clearly had no sense of boundaries.

________________________________________

Pei Jiuyao didn’t want to disturb Chi Yang so late and went straight back to her own room.

She picked up her phone, intending to scroll through some gossip.

To her surprise, she was trending #1.

She didn’t think she was that popular.

But why was her name tied to Chu Si?

She clicked in and saw the post from the show’s official account. Beneath it was “her” reply to Chu Si.

[Clingy puppy.jpg]

No doubt it was Wen Li who posted that.

She really had a thing for these silly memes—so childish.

But it was a public account after all. Pei Jiuyao didn’t mind.

She casually registered a side account, headed to Chi Yang’s super topic, and started saving pictures.

Tilting her head, she saw one comment:

“The retouched photos don’t even come close to the real thing.”