After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine (GL) - Chapter 25.2

“Who are you?” someone asked.

A woman stepped in—dressed in a sleek black suit, with shoulder-length hair and piercing phoenix eyes.

Her lips thinned as she surveyed the scene with a cold, ruthless expression. “Take them all.”

Ying Ning rushed in from behind her, quickly injecting Chi Yang with a suppressant and untying her.

The woman’s gaze remained icy as it fell on Chi Yang, unmoving. “Check for surveillance cameras—and tear this place apart.”

Then she covered her nose and turned to Pei Jiuyao. “Reel in your pheromones.”

Pei Jiuyao snapped out of her daze and quickly did as told.

—

In the car, Pei Jiuyao wrapped her coat around Chi Yang.

Chi Yang clutched her sleeve, whispering, “That’s Chi Qing.”

Chi Qing? That was Chi Yang’s older sister—the infamous CEO in the novel, who later passed the reins to Chi Yang, making her an even more formidable capitalist predator.

“I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before.” Pei Jiuyao cautiously glanced at the front seat, but the partition was rising.

Chi Yang leaned weakly against her. The suppressant had taken effect, but she was still fragile.

“Maybe in the news. She shows up a lot.”

“Mm. Don’t talk for now.” Pei Jiuyao lifted a hand and gently massaged her temple.

A few moments later, the person in her arms let out a muffled groan.

Pei Jiuyao’s hand trembled. “What’s wrong?”

“The suppressant’s wearing off. I need another shot.”

Pei Jiuyao hesitated, adjusting the car’s internal controls to signal for help.

She didn’t know whether it was safe to administer another dose so soon, but still tapped on the partition.

When it lowered, she asked, “Chi Yang’s not doing well. Can we give her another injection?”

Chi Qing cast a brief glance at Chi Yang, her voice frosty. “We’re almost at the hospital. She can hold on.”

Then the divider went back up.

Pei Jiuyao frowned.

Wasn’t Chi Qing her sister?

She’d come to save them, so clearly she cared. Then why act so cold?

It wasn’t quite dislike, Pei Jiuyao thought.

It felt more like… emotional detachment. Like they were strangers. Unfeeling, with no empathy.

“Forget it,” Chi Yang murmured, gripping Pei Jiuyao’s finger. “We’re almost there. I’ll hold on.”

But it wasn’t really holding on—it was self-hypnosis. Self-comfort.

Chi Yang clutched her hand tighter, burying her face into Pei Jiuyao’s abdomen, clearly in great pain.

By the time they arrived at the hospital, Pei Jiuyao was drenched in sweat from the tension.

After Chi Yang was wheeled into a room, Pei Jiuyao waited outside.

She couldn’t help but ask 7023, “What happens if something bad happens to the protagonist?”

Yes, it was cold to ask that now—like she was no better than Chi Qing.

But as an “outsider,” Pei Jiuyao had to think about it.

【You’ll be trapped here. Just like the original host. And die.】

The answer didn’t surprise her.

She’d already died in her original world. Forced into this one to complete a mission. If she failed… it would all end.

She just couldn’t accept that.

Worse, Pei Jiuyao had realized something: whether due to pheromone influence or her own emerging emotions, she did like Chi Yang.

And if she left this world, she would have to abandon her.

But Pei Jiuyao had to go.

Her original world had her past, her career, her family—her entire identity.

She couldn’t sacrifice all that for a fabricated reality. She would never choose to stay.

That was her bottom line.

So Chi Yang might be her variable, but she could never be the variable.

Pei Jiuyao couldn’t even choose to leave with dignity—because loving Chi Yang was now her only ticket out.

And as long as she had to complete this mission, she couldn’t not fall in love with her.

Living without a plan pained her. Suddenly, she almost envied that other host 7023 mentioned—the one who chose death rather than complete the mission.

Rebirth. It sounds like a reward, but it’s actually a curse.

—

When Chi Qing finally sat down beside her, Pei Jiuyao was still deep in thought.

She was snapped back by a quiet “Miss Pei.”

She turned, offering a polite nod. “President Chi.”

“I’m Chi Qing,” she corrected coolly. “You can call me Jie.”

“Chi Qing-jie,” Pei Jiuyao said softly. Sitting this close, she could see the fine downy hair on the woman’s flawless skin.

Her gaze was razor-sharp, cold to the core—like someone who would never smile in her life.

Pei Jiuyao stole another glance, then quickly looked away.

Why does she look so familiar? Had they met before?

Maybe it was the original host’s memory?

She couldn’t resist asking, “Chi Qing-jie, have we met before?”

“Is that Miss Pei’s way of flirting?” Chi Qing’s voice was slow but far from gentle—steely and cold.

Pei Jiuyao lowered her gaze. “Sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

Chi Qing stared straight ahead. “Maybe you saw me in the news.”

So the original host probably hadn’t met her.

And Pei Jiuyao certainly hadn’t either.

Maybe it was the news.

Then, suddenly—

“Do you like Chi Yang?”

The question stunned her.

Chi Qing didn’t seem concerned about her sister. It felt more like a routine interrogation.

“I… I do like her.” Pei Jiuyao admitted.

“But you’re not from the same world,” Chi Qing said, eyes lifting slightly to glance at her. “Isn’t the idea of ‘liking’ between you two… laughable?”

Pei Jiuyao responded calmly and with dignity, “I know I used to be a terrible person, but I’ve changed.”

Chi Qing hesitated, wanting to speak but holding back. As Ying Ning pushed the door open, her expression immediately turned cold again.

“President Chi, it’s not going to work,” Ying Ning called her over and shook her head.

Chi Qing’s expression shifted slightly—an unusual sight. “What do you mean, it won’t work?”

“Chi Yang already suffers from pheromone imbalance. She’s been temporarily marked, injected with a high-concentration Omega heat-inducing agent, and exposed to large amounts of Pei Jiuyao’s pheromones.”

Ying Ning looked helpless. “She’s practically overloaded. Standard medication won’t work anymore. Either we keep injecting her to force her through this, or… we might have to rely on Pei Jiuyao.”

“But didn’t you say that no more than two markings per month is ideal? This is already the third time.”

“She’s in an extreme condition right now…”

Ying Ning led Chi Qing to the door of the hospital room and pushed it open just a crack.

Pei Jiuyao, standing nearby, had overheard the entire conversation.

She knew she probably shouldn’t go in—that under these circumstances, it might be inappropriate to see Chi Yang.

And yet, she found herself stepping slightly closer to Chi Qing.

Chi Qing seemed to sense something and moved to the side, subtly leaving a space for Pei Jiuyao to stand.

Inside, Chi Yang was restrained by medical straps, an IV needle in her arm. Tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks, and her skin was flushed an unnatural red.

“We’ll start with injections and keep her under observation,” Chi Qing said after a long pause, then closed the door.

Pei Jiuyao’s fingers clenched tightly.

Finally, she couldn’t hold back. “Can I go in to see her?”

Ying Ning thought for a moment. “It might help. She needs Alpha comfort right now. But no more than fifteen minutes.”

Wen Li was still urging Pei Jiuyao to hurry to the filming site.

Pei Jiuyao hung up the call, replied with [I’ll be on time], and stepped into the room.

Chi Yang had just received another injection. Ying Ning had warned that too much of this type of medication could cause disorientation, drowsiness, and make her especially susceptible to pheromonal triggers—especially from Alphas who had previously marked her.

When Pei Jiuyao entered, Chi Yang was still restrained, but her eyes were relatively clear, though tinged with that unnatural flush.

Pei Jiuyao silently sat beside her and softly called her name.

Chi Yang turned slightly, looking at Pei Jiuyao with misty eyes.

“You came,” she said, her voice hoarse.

Pei Jiuyao hummed in acknowledgment. “Did you want to see me?”

Chi Yang didn’t answer directly. Instead, she looked at Pei Jiuyao, her eyes growing redder by the second.

“I think I regret it,” she said softly.

“Regret what?” Pei Jiuyao asked.

“That it only happened once,” Chi Yang moved her fingers slightly. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“What should I do?” she whispered—so softly it was barely audible, but the weight of it hit Pei Jiuyao like a stone.

Pei Jiuyao’s heart trembled briefly, then quickly steadied.

“It’s because of the inducing agent, and the heavy exposure to my pheromones,” she explained.

“Is that so?” Chi Yang’s lashes quivered, her gaze dropping away.

Her voice softened, almost playfully, “Then can you give me a little more pheromone? Please?”

Pei Jiuyao instinctively reached for the back of her neck, only to remember that Ying Ning had applied a suppressant patch before she entered.

She pulled her hand back.

“No. You’re still in treatment. You can’t be exposed to any Alpha pheromones right now.”

“It’s Chi Qing, isn’t it? She told you not to let me smell them.” Chi Yang suddenly grew upset, pouting. “Whose side are you on—mine or hers?”

“I’m listening to Ying Ning,” Pei Jiuyao said calmly.

Chi Yang struggled against the restraints, her eyes brimming with tears. Her slightly curled hair spilled over the pillow, making her look especially vulnerable.

Pei Jiuyao’s heart ached for her, but she still said, “You’re only feeling this way because of the pheromones. Once you’re clear-headed again, you’ll regret it. You were about to terminate our agreement, remember?”

“I wasn’t…” Chi Yang murmured, her voice full of distress. “I just wanted to smell you. I said I regretted it—can’t that be enough?”

Pei Jiuyao gently pulled the blanket up over her, sighing, “No. You need to follow the doctor’s orders.”

“You’re bullying me,” Chi Yang grumbled, turning her head away in frustration.

Pei Jiuyao’s phone had been vibrating nonstop. If she didn’t leave soon, she really would miss her next appointment.

“I have a lot of work coming up. I’ll come see you when I have time, alright?” she said, ruffling Chi Yang’s hair. “Be good. Listen to Ying Ning and cooperate with the treatment.”

“Hang in there. You’ve always been the strong one,” Pei Jiuyao said gently, coaxing her.

Ying Ning had said Chi Yang might only respond to Pei Jiuyao at this point.

In the end, Chi Yang relented. “Then you have to answer my calls.”

Pei Jiuyao agreed, soothed her until her temper faded, and rushed to the set.

As soon as she entered the building, Wen Li was at the elevator holding the doors open for her. When she saw Pei Jiuyao, she quickly ushered her inside.

“Dear god, do you know how much the editor-in-chief of V·E hates it when celebrities show up late? If you’re late even once, she’ll blacklist you for life.”

“Don’t worry, Wen-jie. I know what I’m doing.”

Wen Li let out a long breath. “How’s Chi Yang?”

“She’s not doing well. The inducing agent really messed her up.”

Wen Li patted her shoulder. “And with you nearby, it probably gets worse.”

“You’ve got a lot of work coming up. Don’t stress yourself out too much—Ying Ning and Chi Qing are there to handle things.”

Pei Jiuyao nodded. “I know.”

Ding—

The elevator doors opened. The set was fully prepped, and Pei Jiuyao was whisked away to the makeup room.

As she was changing and getting her makeup done, Wen Li said, “I don’t know what’s up with Mo Tian, suddenly booking you for back-to-back work.”

“This isn’t how you make money—you barely have time to sleep. After this shoot, you still have to rush to a casting.”

Jiang Tian brought over a glass of water. Wen Li took a sip and folded her tablet.

“My guess is it’s because of Chu Si. Now Mo Tian’s betting the company on you alone.”

What Chu Si did this time had crossed the line—the Chi family wouldn’t let it slide.

There might even be legal consequences.

But Pei Jiuyao knew deep down this had little to do with Chu Si.

Wen Li looked over the schedule and couldn’t help but complain, “I need to talk to her. You’ve got zero free time this week. Your only rest is a nap in the car. This isn’t sustainable.”

“Let it be, Wen-jie. Having work is a good thing.”

Pei Jiuyao didn’t want to drag Wen Li into her personal mess.

After a long silence, Wen Li suddenly asked, “Did you piss off Mo Tian?”

Pei Jiuyao paused, then smiled. “No way. Work is good, isn’t it?”

“First of all, Mo Tian doesn’t care whether Tianji Entertainment lives or dies. She wouldn’t micromanage artists’ schedules,” Wen Li said, face serious.

“Second, she suddenly dropped a top-tier variety show and sent you to audition—big-budget auditions, mind you. Looks like good opportunities, but with your acting skills? Everyone knows you won’t land them.

It’s a waste of time.”

“Basically, all dead-end jobs. Just exhausting.”

Wen Li always saw right through her.

“Even if you’re with Chi Yang now, as long as you’re under Tianji, don’t make enemies with the boss—unless your sugar mommy can pull you out, got it?”

“I understand, Wen-jie,” Pei Jiuyao replied with a soft smile.

She knew Wen Li was only speaking from the heart. The last time she offended Mo Tian, it had been a necessary political move.

Now, she was paying the price.

Still, maybe it was a good thing. If she could earn enough goodwill points, maybe one day her acting would suddenly improve and shock everyone.

Pei Jiuyao finished her makeup and was called to set.

As Wen Li walked her over, she said, “You’ll be shooting the cover with Sheng Xia, the newly dubbed national sweetheart. She shot to fame as the second female lead in Shan Hai. Sweet personality, low profile, great acting—treat her well.”

Pei Jiuyao nodded. A girl in a wedding dress stood by the backdrop.

She turned when she heard footsteps and smiled, revealing two dimples. “Miss Pei.”

“Miss Sheng.” Pei Jiuyao approached and extended her hand.

Sheng Xia gently shook it. “No need to be so formal—just call me Xiao Xia.”

The 10th-anniversary love-themed edition of V·E was never meant for Pei Jiuyao. Who knew what strings Mo Tian had pulled?

“Closer, please. A little more intimacy between you two!”

“Okay. Miss Sheng, you’re so expressive… Miss Pei, are you not feeling well today?”

“This is a romance theme, so we need more chemistry!”

Pei Jiuyao really wasn’t in top form.

Letting it affect her work felt like a cruel irony.

She rubbed her temples, quickly regrouped, and smiled at Sheng Xia.

Sheng Xia casually draped her arm over Pei Jiuyao’s shoulder and looked up at her.

The rest of the shoot went off without a hitch. The photographer praised their professionalism nonstop.

Once finished, Pei Jiuyao immediately headed for her next job—a casting call in Beicheng the next morning.

Because of the scandal with Chu Si, Wen Li had fewer assignments. She sent Jiang Tian home and joined Pei Jiuyou on the flight.

Perhaps worried that the situation with Chi Yang might affect her performance, Wen Li spent the flight trying to keep her spirits up.

Despite trying to stay composed at the audition, Pei Jiuyao’s locked-up acting couldn’t meet expectations.

Not even her own.

By the time she walked out, it was already noon.

Back in the car, she stretched her neck and accepted a sandwich from Wen Li.

Wen Li patted her on the shoulder. “Try to nap on the plane. You’ve still got an ad shoot tonight.”

Pei Jiuyao took a sip of water and asked, “How’s Chi Yang?”

“Ying Ning gave her some sleep aids. She finally managed to fall asleep.”

Pei Jiuyao rubbed her temples, exhausted.

The audition had been an intense scene about parting in life and death—it drained everything from her.

But even if she couldn’t reach her ideal standard yet, the phrase “doing her best” still rang true in everything she did.

She thought she’d be furious with Mo Tian—or disappointed in herself.

But standing here now, she only felt… at peace.

Once back in Haishi, she didn’t even have time to drink water before heading to the ad shoot.

Midway through, the makeup artist asked, “Miss Pei, have you not been sleeping well?”

After two all-nighters, Mo Tian had her shooting an ad for a major cosmetics brand.

A good opportunity on paper—but clearly chosen with ulterior motives, especially with Mo Tian overseeing it personally.

And it wasn’t even a full endorsement—just a line-specific brand ambassador role, several rungs below spokesperson.

Still, Pei Jiuyao gave it her all and finished the shoot. As she left, the staff whispered:

“She’s clearly exhausted—this isn’t how you schedule shoots.”

“But she’s got great skin despite the dark circles.”

“And she’s super polite. Heard she hasn’t slept in three days. Not easy.”

Outside, Wen Li was waiting with a phone.

“Chi Yang called. I told her you were working.”

She handed it to Pei Jiuyao. “She didn’t sound great.”

Pei Jiuyao took the phone. Fatigue had dulled all her emotions, but the words didn’t sound great jolted her back to alertness.

“Let’s get in the car first,” Wen Li said.

There was still a surprise variety shoot scheduled tomorrow.

Once inside, Pei Jiuyao leaned back, her spine aching.

When the call connected, Chi Qing’s voice came first—cold and sharp.

“Keep your composure. Don’t give her hope where there is none.”

Then she handed the phone over to Chi Yang.

“Hello, Jiuyao.” Chi Yang’s soft voice floated through the receiver.

Pei Jiuyao’s eyelids twitched. She suddenly felt more awake.

“Chi Yang… how have you been?” she asked.

Chi Yang hummed quietly, “Why haven’t you come to see me?”