After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine (GL) - Chapter 6

Pei Jiuyao froze for a second. “What agreement?”

Chi Yang spoke slowly, “I’m about to start filming a new movie—Shan Hai, directed by Lin Leyi. I’m the lead actress. You know her films are always award contenders, right?”

Pei Jiuyao did recall something like that—

Director Lin Leyi was a renowned figure in the industry, famous for her sci-fi films rooted in traditional culture.

In a film scene dominated by artsy, award-winning pieces, Lin Leyi had carved out her own niche.

The annotated copy of Classic of Mountains and Seas that the original host kept in the living room? She bought it in a fit of jealousy, desperate to steal Chi Yang’s opportunity.

But with her lack of talent and acting skills, even a blind Lin Leyi would never cast her.

Pei Jiuyao asked softly, “Will this… affect you in some way?”

Chi Yang’s eyes flickered. “I can’t let anyone find out I’ve differentiated into an Omega. If they do, I’ll be removed from the cast. You know this—I’m just one award away from a grand slam.”

That last award favored science fiction, and Lin Leyi was her best bet.

But this director had one unspoken rule—she only cast Alphas as female leads.

Chi Yang curled her lips into a self-deprecating smile. “You’re probably thrilled I won’t be in the film. I bet you’re dying to tell the world right now.”

“How could I!” Pei Jiuyao looked up, flustered. “Of course I want the best for you.”

Her expression was stubborn, but her eyes sparkled when she said it.

Did her face always carry such stories?

Chi Yang’s breath caught for a second, and she quickly avoided her gaze. “Don’t you feel guilty saying that?”

Her face was half-drenched in the golden hue of the setting sun, casting a silhouette so dark it felt inked.

Even wrapped in a loose hospital gown, she still stood out like one in a million.

Pei Jiuyao stared at her blankly, then lowered her head, ready to accept her punishment.

Chi Yang’s porcelain-pale fingers gripped her phone. Her voice was cool and calm:

“I need you to keep my secondary differentiation a secret—including what happened last night. Of course, I’ll make it worth your while. My connections will become yours. You’ll have access to industry resources. And if you’re afraid I’ll go back on my word… we can have a contractual marriage.”

“Contractual marriage?” Pei Jiuyao lowered her gaze, her expression quietly hurt.

“If you have other terms, just say the word…” Chi Yang said.

Chi Yang turned and saw Pei Jiuyao lifting her head slightly, eyes misty with unshed tears.

Chi Yang froze.

Pei Jiuyao’s lips were downturned—clearly wounded.

She had long known how Chi Yang felt about the “original” Pei Jiuyao. But now, being on the receiving end of that scorn stung more than expected.

“So you don’t like me. And now, because you slept with me, you want to buy my silence with money?”

Chi Yang hesitated, then picked up a bottle of nutrient fluid from the side. “It’s not entirely like that. After all, you marked me. There may be… physical effects in the future. I might need your help. You don’t have powerful backers, you can’t get premium resources. We each get something out of this. Isn’t that reasonable?”

“How is that reasonable?” Pei Jiuyao bit her lip, her eyes reddening.

It hurt. Not just because Chi Yang didn’t trust her—but because she treated the entire thing like a cold, transactional deal.

So Pei Jiuyao’s worth was just a bargaining chip?

Even knowing the “original” deserved it, the emotion came from somewhere deeper—something that didn’t belong entirely to her.

For a moment, Pei Jiuyao nearly said yes, ready to accept the deal with bitter resignation.

Her wounded eyes remained fixed on Chi Yang.

Chi Yang panicked. She wasn’t sure where she’d gone wrong.

Hadn’t this always been what Pei Jiuyao wanted? Fame, status, money, social recognition—all from Chi Yang’s hands.

And that was all Chi Yang had to offer.

But she looked genuinely heartbroken. Her dewy eyes, those soft almond-shaped irises glistening, made her look pitiful.

Was this a ruthless wolf king or a lonely little stray dog?

Chi Yang felt her heart soften—but forced it back down.

She reminded herself this was just a transaction.

“Or tell me what you want. Anything. Name it.”

“I’ll keep your secret. I’ll help take care of your body. This is my fault, and I’ll take responsibility.” Pei Jiuyao said.

Pei Jiuyao’s lashes trembled. She mumbled, “But this ‘contract marriage’—I can’t agree to that. Marriage should be built on love. Mutual willingness.”

Chi Yang quickly turned away, her voice sharp. “Hearing you talk about love and willingness is truly unexpected.”

Pei Jiuyao jumped to her feet. “Chi Yang, I know the old me… might’ve been terrible. You can think whatever you want. But I swear I’ll draw a clear line from the past. From now on, I’ll protect

you. I promise this will never happen again!”

“You just slipped up in front of Song Mo, saying we were together all night.” Chi Yang said.

“I…” Pei Jiuyao deflated and sank back into her seat.

Then she whispered hoarsely, “Maybe because…”

It felt like something invisible had taken over her—

“Because I like you.”

Chi Yang didn’t catch it. “What did you say?”

“I said I like you!”

Pei Jiuyao looked up, her eyes full of stubborn defiance, lashes trembling with tears. She looked as if she’d been deeply wronged.

Chi Yang’s heart suddenly gave a loud thud, like a ray of sunlight had pierced right through her chest from behind.

Only a few seconds passed, but it felt like she could hear the ticking of time itself, echoing loudly in her mind—slow, senseless, and endless.

It took everything she had to speak:

“Don’t say you like me.”

“You’ve just evolved, Pei Jiuyao. That’s not love.”

Chi Yang added softly, “Don’t say it. You don’t even know what love is.”

With an identity like yours, saying “I love you” is almost absurd.

Pei Jiuyao wasn’t a child. She didn’t understand why she was so emotionally unstable in front of Chi Yang.

She took a deep breath, biting her lip. “I’m sorry.”

Chi Yang’s fingers trembled slightly around her phone. Her voice was cold:

“Let’s just treat it as a deal. It’s easier that way.”

“Alright.” Pei Jiuyao looked down, voice still choking a little. Then she added after a pause, “I won’t do the contract marriage thing. But I want you to agree to three conditions.”

Chi Yang raised her fox-like eyes, frowning slightly at her.

Pei Jiuyao quickly raised three fingers in a vow: “I haven’t decided what they are yet, but I promise they won’t break any laws, go against morals, or violate your will. You can say no.”

Then she added, “Write that clause into the agreement, too.”

Her misty almond eyes were full of sincerity and emotion.

Chi Yang’s fingers lightly gripped the blanket—almost sinking into it. And this was after she’d taken a suppressant injection, and Pei Jiuyao had retracted her pheromones.

The Omega body… was almost too much for Chi Yang to bear.

“I’ll have the lawyer draft the agreement.” She looked out at the fading sunlight, her eyes distant. “I should go home. You can take me.”

“Shouldn’t you stay in the hospital—” Pei Jiuyao said.

“I hate hospitals,” Chi Yang said the word “hospital” with biting disdain, “especially at night.”

Pei Jiuyao stood up. “Okay, I’ll take you. Do you want to change first?”

“Ningning has my clothes here.”

Chi Yang got out of bed and slipped on her slippers. She drank the last of the nutrient fluid, tossing the bottle into the bin.

Pei Jiuyao reached out to support her arm. The heat from Chi Yang’s skin, even through the fabric, seeped into her palm—soft and burning—slipping into her chest.

Chi Yang gave her a side glance and pushed her away. “Don’t think the agreement gives you the right to touch me.”

Pei Jiuyao quickly withdrew her hand.

While Chi Yang changed, Pei Jiuyao leaned against the hospital hallway wall, quietly waiting.

When she emerged, Chi Yang was in an ice-blue long dress studded with tiny rhinestones. The cut was simple, but she glowed.

As she passed, she said softly, “Let’s go.”

Her low heels clicked crisply on the tile floor.

Pei Jiuyao followed with a faint smile. “It might be chilly tonight. Want to bring a jacket?”

Chi Yang shook her head. She used Ying Ning’s card to exit through the VIP route with Pei Jiuyao.

The black Phantom rolled into the night. Chi Yang entered an address into the GPS.

Pei Jiuyao drove her to a residential complex, finally stopping in front of a high-rise.

Chi Yang came from old money, backed by powerful capital.

But her relationship with her family was strained. Her stern older sister disapproved of her current career, often calling her a “performer for others’ amusement.”

Chi Yang owned several properties, but she still lived in the apartment assigned by her agency.

She rarely returned home. Where she lived hardly mattered—few places felt like home.

The ride was silent.

Pei Jiuyao reached to turn on the heat, but Chi Yang shut it off again.

She looked cold, but sat motionless in her seat.

Pei Jiuyao guessed maybe the chill made her feel better physically.

Before getting out, Chi Yang turned to Pei Jiuyao, eyes once again misted. She pointed to the GPS:

“Remember this address. Once the agreement is ready, I’ll call you over to sign.”

Pei Jiuyao gave a quiet “okay” and moved to get out.

But Chi Yang’s voice came, cool and detached:
“No need to get out. Don’t walk me up.”

Her tone was firm—an order, not a suggestion.

Pei Jiuyao lowered her head, a flicker of loneliness passing through her eyes. She reached to the backseat for a paper bag and handed it to Chi Yang.

“It’s a coat. I brought it this afternoon, in case you got cold.”

Chi Yang paused, then took it. The door closed with a click.

Pei Jiuyao watched through the tinted window as Chi Yang slipped on the coat.

It was oversized, flapping in the wind. Chi Yang pulled it tightly around her, like a butterfly about to take flight—then vanished into the dark.

The streetlamp lit up, washing Pei Jiuyao in pale, prismatic light. The world shimmered strangely, like a dream.

She sat in the glow, her heart sinking into the night.

She counted the floors one by one. When she reached the sixteenth, a window lit up.

The night turned into day.

She didn’t know how long she sat there.

Only when a gust of wind slipped into her coat did she finally turn on the heat.

A withered yellow leaf floated under the streetlamp and landed gently on the windshield.

Pei Jiuyao picked up her phone. Several missed calls from “Chu Si.”

She ignored them.

Instead, she scrolled to Chi Yang’s number—silently memorizing it.

Strange.

She was already looking forward to that call.