After the Top Idol Omega and I Started Living Together - Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The sun slowly cast its light from the highest point in the sky toward the world, while cicadas hid in the treetops, chirping arrogantly.

Thick glass blocked out all the external chaos, and this room, filled with cool air, held absolute silence.

Sheng Jingyu lowered her eyes to look at the friend request on her phone, thought for a moment, and then accepted Si Liaoliao’s friend request.

The chat window popped up immediately, displaying only Si Liaoliao’s single sentence from the friend request.

Sheng Jingyu stayed silent, quietly watching, and soon a message appeared at the top of the chat: [The other party is typing…]

It seemed somewhat impatient.

Soon, Si Liaoliao organized her words and greeted Sheng Jingyu: [Hello, Teacher Sheng. I am a teammate of Ah Zhao in the same group and an artist under the same agency.]

Sheng Jingyu replied politely: [Hello.]

The conversation between the two felt awkward, and Si Liaoliao couldn’t discern Sheng Jingyu’s attitude toward her from the reply.

But that didn’t matter. She maintained her eager-to-learn demeanor from in front of the camera and said to Sheng Jingyu: [Sorry for disturbing you, Teacher. I really love the song you composed for Teacher Zhou Huanyin. I’ve looped it endlessly. I heard from Ah Zhao that she asked you to be her vocal teacher, so I wanted to ask if you could take on one more student?]

After returning from the cemetery, Si Liaoliao guessed that Lu Zhao’s ability to embarrass her that day was likely due to the teacher she mentioned.

To improve Lu Zhao’s voice so significantly in such a short time, an ordinary teacher couldn’t achieve that. Si Liaoliao needed such a person too.

Instead of painstakingly searching for one herself, it was faster to take someone else’s ready-made choice.

And that person was Lu Zhao.

She first expressed her admiration, then affectionately mentioned Lu Zhao’s name.

Si Liaoliao’s words seemed to hint to Sheng Jingyu that she and Lu Zhao were very close, aiming to gain her favor. If it were the first time meeting her, one might actually be swayed by her charm.

But Sheng Jingyu had personally witnessed how this person tried to ruin Lu Zhao.

She had no interest in such a person and replied coldly: [I have no such plans.]

Si Liaoliao looked at Sheng Jingyu’s response and wasn’t discouraged.

She was prepared for such a reply and continued, humbly and tactfully requesting Sheng Jingyu: [Since you don’t plan to take another student, could you give me a little guidance? These are some of my works from the past few years.]

With that, Si Liaoliao sent Sheng Jingyu several files, her best stage performances since her debut.

In her view, her trained voice was countless times better than Lu Zhao’s. If Lu Zhao’s unpolished voice could convince Sheng Jingyu to be her teacher, then she surely could move her too.

And it had always worked like this in the past.

Why would this time be any different?

The video files kept refreshing in the chat window, and Sheng Jingyu looked at them indifferently, narrowing her eyes slightly.

This person’s actions seemed sincere, and her tone carried a sense of humility, but her words revealed something different from the image she projected.

Though she claimed to seek advice, she directly sent the videos over.

Her humility was lacking, but her impatience was glaringly obvious.

Interesting.

Sheng Jingyu raised her gaze slightly and casually opened the first file Si Liaoliao sent.

A long, melodic sound came from the phone. On a stage with rising white mist stood a person in a long dress.

Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, and her light-colored outfit gave her an ethereal, otherworldly beauty.

Her thick eyelashes lowered slightly, as if she were gathering herself, then she precisely raised the microphone in her hand as the accompaniment hit the main melody.

“Let go of your hand, the unknown future descends between you and me…”

Si Liaoliao’s opening was indeed impressive, with steady breath and accurate pitch.

Sheng Jingyu noticed the backing track in the accompaniment and wondered if she was competing with it, as her voice was overly loud, straying from its original intent.

Pursuing technique too much made her singing feel calculated.

Some in the audience were moved to tears, but Sheng Jingyu, sitting in her chair, looked even colder than before.

She thought there was still a vast difference between jade and jade; otherwise, buying stones wouldn’t be called “gambling.”

Sheng Jingyu had no interest in something already carved and saw no point in beating around the bush with Si Liaoliao. She closed the video and cut to the point: [Your pronunciation is too deliberate, not clean.]

Si Liaoliao’s face stiffened for a moment.

Her life had been filled with praise, and she didn’t expect this person not to flatter her. She hadn’t anticipated waiting so long for Sheng Jingyu’s response, only to receive a comment devoid of any praise.

This was her proudest stage performance.

Perhaps because it was through the phone, Si Liaoliao’s expression turned unfriendly.

But she wasn’t ready to give up. Accepting Sheng Jingyu’s critique, she maintained a polite tone: [Teacher Sheng, you hit the nail on the head. This issue has troubled me for a long time. Do you have time? Can I visit you to seek advice and maybe treat you and Ah Zhao to dinner?]

[Our family owns a five-star hotel on Chang’an Street, and their Drunken Immortal Duck is quite famous. If you’re interested, we could dine there.]

Chang’an Street was A City’s famously prosperous avenue, lined with expensive, high-end venues.

The most renowned among them was A City’s only luxury five-star hotel, the Deer Pursuit Hotel.

Si Liaoliao subtly revealed her status to Sheng Jingyu.

These tactics had never failed her over the years. She knew that anyone would eagerly align themselves with her family’s status, and Sheng Jingyu surely wouldn’t be an exception.

But Sheng Jingyu remained unmoved and rejected her again: [Sorry, I don’t accept private visits.]

Si Liaoliao’s expression froze, and her brows furrowed instantly.

She had already played her status card, yet this person remained unmoved and even mocked her. What was she acting so high and mighty for?

Did Sheng Jingyu value Lu Zhao that much?

Or had Lu Zhao said something to her…

Si Liaoliao frowned, as if realizing something, then feigned concern and said to Sheng Jingyu: [But if that’s the case, I’m worried Ah Zhao might face a lot of trouble.]

Sheng Jingyu looked at Si Liaoliao’s mention of Lu Zhao and slightly furrowed her brow.

Si Liaoliao typed quickly, continuing to “explain” to Sheng Jingyu: [Actually, our company plans to find a vocal teacher for both me and Ah Zhao. What Ah Zhao did technically violates company rules.]

[By privately inviting you to be her vocal teacher and not following the company’s arrangements, she could be punished by the company. I think in the end, Ah Zhao might have to return to the company and accept their chosen teacher.]

Si Liaoliao brought up Lu Zhao’s agency, seemingly informing Sheng Jingyu about Lu Zhao’s situation but actually issuing a threat.

Looking at the simple profile picture on the other side, she narrowed her eyes slightly, as if offering Sheng Jingyu a solution out of pity.

[So I came to you, Teacher Sheng, thinking that if you accept me, you’d be the teacher the company assigns to both of us. That way, Ah Zhao wouldn’t be breaking any rules, and it’s a win-win.]

Si Liaoliao spoke lightly, shedding her earlier humility.

If it weren’t for Lu Zhao, she wouldn’t have noticed Sheng Jingyu.

Whale’s works were few, and Si Liaoliao was certain Sheng Jingyu wasn’t prominent in the industry and couldn’t protect Lu Zhao.

She could’ve simply let the company pressure Lu Zhao, forcing her to abandon Sheng Jingyu and comply.

But Si Liaoliao coveted Sheng Jingyu’s vocal training skills. By revealing these things to her, she maintained her friendly persona while signaling that if Sheng Jingyu wanted to teach Lu Zhao, she had to include her.

So, whether Sheng Jingyu agreed or not, Si Liaoliao felt she wouldn’t lose.

With her around, Lu Zhao could never rise.

The clear, boundless sky suddenly darkened as heavy clouds passed in front of the sun.

The window, filled with sunlight a moment ago, dimmed, just like Sheng Jingyu’s lowered eyelashes.

After a pause, Sheng Jingyu replied to Si Liaoliao: [I think I have a suggestion for Miss Si.]

Si Liaoliao looked at the message and curled her lips in satisfaction.

She thought the matter of Sheng Jingyu becoming her teacher was promising and replied politely: [Please tell me, Teacher.]

Sheng Jingyu’s gaze was indifferent, her patience exhausted, and her tone flat to the extreme: [Before practicing vocal techniques, it’s best to improve an artist’s basic qualities. It’s better for Miss Si to avoid trending topics like the ones from a few days ago.]

It was friendly advice and also a warning at the boundary.

Sheng Jingyu lightly flicked her finger to scroll back through the chat, her heavy gaze lingering on Si Liaoliao’s earlier messages.

She thought that if necessary, she wouldn’t mind letting Vinyl Music step in.

Vinyl Music, founded in the early last century, remained the industry’s top dog even as the music scene leaned toward entertainment. Its artists, aside from the unshakable Jingyun, included a plethora of rising stars and award-winning singers.

Few knew that as Vinyl Music’s leading lady, Jingyun held thirty percent of the company’s shares.

She was both an artist and half an owner.

The wind pushed the clouds, slowly clearing the sunlight, and the cicadas’ chirping suddenly quieted.

Sheng Jingyu casually blocked Si Liaoliao and sent a message to Chenchen.

Seven simple words: [Check on Lu Zhao’s company.]

Chenchen, in the middle of investigating Chen Ruozhi, was puzzled by Sheng Jingyu’s message.

Sheng Jingyu’s phone vibrated with Chenchen’s questioning reply, but she only glanced at it without explaining.

A cool breeze brushed her cheek, and Sheng Jingyu slightly closed her eyes, leaning her straight back against the chair.

The room held no extra scents, and she inhaled lightly, tilting her head as if sinking into intangible seawater.

Sheng Jingyu didn’t avoid answering Chenchen’s question on purpose; she simply didn’t know why she was doing this.

She could broadly explain her choice to protect Lu Zhao as a teacher’s care for a student, and objectively, Lu Zhao indeed shouldn’t face such suppression—she should shine on stage.

But for the first time, Sheng Jingyu felt her objective explanation was too grandiose.

If Lu Zhao, as Si Liaoliao suggested, gave her up under the company’s pressure…

A small crease on her forehead caught the sunlight, and a clear trace of displeasure showed between Sheng Jingyu’s brows.

She realized she didn’t want to lose this child.

Was this also an Alpha’s pheromones attracting an Omega?

“Knock, knock.”

At that moment, someone knocked on Sheng Jingyu’s door from outside.

Lu Zhao’s voice came through the thick door, light and cheerful: “Teacher, dinner’s ready.”

Sheng Jingyu’s eyes shifted suddenly, concealing all her thoughts without a trace.

After a moment’s hesitation, she sat in her chair and tapped her phone: “Come in for a moment.”

Lu Zhao was confused by Sheng Jingyu’s sudden call to enter but pushed the door open: “Teacher, is something up?”

Sunlight slanted through the window, and Sheng Jingyu sat in its golden glow.

She raised her hand unhurriedly and told Lu Zhao about the earlier events: “Your teammate contacted me just now.”

Lu Zhao’s heart sank, and she blurted out: “Was it Si Liaoliao?”

Sheng Jingyu nodded, holding nothing back: “She asked me to be her teacher.”

Her gesturing hand stirred a slight breeze, but Lu Zhao felt as if a wild wind had swept her into its center.

Her heart froze, past memories overlapping with Sheng Jingyu’s voice calling her in, enveloping her mind in a dizzying darkness.

Sadness came in many forms, and a chaotic mix of emotions clogged Lu Zhao’s chest.

She didn’t know why her reaction was so intense this time; after all, it wasn’t her first betrayal or having her foundations undermined by Si Liaoliao.

But an inexplicable stubbornness, like long-dormant embers reigniting, made Lu Zhao determined not to lose Sheng Jingyu.

So, even if it was obsessive or reckless, disregarding respect for her teacher, she wanted to keep her.

Taking a deep breath, Lu Zhao forced a calm tone and asked: “So, Teacher, are you…”

But before she could finish, Sheng Jingyu interrupted her.

A shadow brushed across Lu Zhao’s cheek, and a distinct, bony hand passed through her loose hair.

A breeze stirred the green vines, and something cool touched her earlobe.

Sheng Jingyu placed an earphone in Lu Zhao’s ear.

Sheng Jingyu calmly gazed at the Alpha before her, her silver-gray eyes filled with deep light.

The prepared audio played at just the right moment in Lu Zhao’s ear: “I will only be one person’s teacher, and you can only be my one student.”