After the Top Idol Omega and I Started Living Together - Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Lu Zhao always had a high level of caution toward Chen Ruozhi, especially after what happened at the audition yesterday. She had to stay on guard against him: “Why can’t you say it over the phone?”

Chen Ruozhi expected this response. He informed her: “There’s a dinner tonight with the director and producer of ‘Hear Your Voice’. Do you want to come?”

Lu Zhao frowned slightly: “Just me?”

“You wish.” Chen Ruozhi laughed once, “Si Liaoliao is coming too.”

“The company higher-ups saw your good performances at the audition, so they arranged this dinner to pave the way for your future competitions. If you go, come to the company now. The company prepared clothes and a makeup artist for you.”

Chen Ruozhi’s voice sounded very impatient. He only wanted to promote Si Liaoliao, especially for such a great networking opportunity.

Who knew the company higher-ups found out about Lu Zhao’s stunning audition performance? In the past, they ignored Lu Zhao, but this morning, they specifically instructed him to bring both of them.

Chen Ruozhi hoped Lu Zhao would arrogantly tell him she wasn’t going, but instead, Lu Zhao agreed: “No need, I have clothes.”

Lu Zhao disliked dealing with such dinners. Artists like them were always somewhat passive when facing directors and producers.

But she also knew she was on her own. If she wanted to break free from the company and move up, she needed more connections. She had to seize this opportunity.

This dinner sounded decent, but Lu Zhao didn’t trust Chen Ruozhi to provide her with good clothes or a makeup artist.

Her tone matched Chen Ruozhi’s when he informed her: “Send me the address. I’ll go there myself tonight.”

Chen Ruozhi listened to Lu Zhao’s tone and was about to lose his temper.

But he glanced at Si Liaoliao, who was carefully trying on clothes nearby, and thought the focus tonight should be on her anyway. He agreed to let Lu Zhao prepare “carelessly”: “You better dress appropriately. Don’t wear pants.”

“I know.” Lu Zhao replied coolly, then directly hung up on Chen Ruozhi.

“She agreed?”

Seeing Chen Ruozhi hang up with that expression, Si Liaoliao asked casually, as if she didn’t care.

Chen Ruozhi nodded, full of disdain: “She’s preparing her own clothes. What good clothes could she have?”

“She does.” Si Liaoliao rarely contradicted Chen Ruozhi’s mockery of Lu Zhao.

It was something she had coveted for a long time. How could she not know?

“It’s fine, Liaoliao. If she dresses well, it’ll dilute the attention on you.” Chen Ruozhi shifted his tone to comfort her, “This dinner might be tough, but I’m here. I won’t let anything go wrong. I guarantee Director Li Qinqin’s eyes will only be on you.”

Si Liaoliao still remembered how she covered for Lu Zhao yesterday. She glanced at Chen Ruozhi in the mirror: “It better be.”

Her phone was casually tossed on the bed. After the call, Lu Zhao lay back down.

What should she wear to the dinner?

Over the years, Chen Ruozhi rarely took Lu Zhao to such events, so she wasn’t sure.

She mentally sorted through the high-end vintage clothes the old ladies left her in the Mansion, forming an idea but feeling uncertain.

Why not ask Teacher?

The thought flashed through Lu Zhao’s mind. She slipped on her slippers and quickly walked downstairs.

Her gaze instinctively went to the dining room. It was past breakfast time after class, and the dining table only held a plate with a sandwich.

Sunlight streamed through the living room’s floor-to-ceiling window, casting a layer of pale golden light on the single sofa by the window.

Sheng Jingyu leaned lightly against the chair’s back, her thin frame slightly tilted. Her long hair rested on her plain white shirt, faintly outlining her collarbone.

A magazine flipped in her hands, exuding a calm, leisurely laziness in the morning stillness.

Noticing someone approaching, Sheng Jingyu looked up.

She saw Lu Zhao walking over and greeted her: “Morning.”

Lu Zhao pulled back her gaze, greeting naturally: “Morning, Teacher.”

She remembered why she rushed down and continued: “Teacher, I have a dinner to attend tonight. It’s arranged by the company with people from the ‘Hear Your Voice’ program team.”

Sheng Jingyu put down her magazine upon hearing this: “Are you going alone?”

Lu Zhao pursed her lips: “How could I get such a good opportunity alone? Si Liaoliao will definitely be there. Chen Ruozhi would give her all the best chances.”

Lu Zhao was already wary of those two. She looked at Sheng Jingyu again: “Teacher, do you have time later? Can you help me pick out clothes? I rarely go to such events and don’t want to mess up.”

“Sure.” Sheng Jingyu didn’t refuse.

She thought she should look out for Lu Zhao.

She was Lu Zhao’s vocal teacher, but more than that.

Warm lights lit up one by one, and clothes arranged by color appeared, filling three entire walls.

Lu Zhao had a plan in mind when she went upstairs. She swiftly picked out an outfit from the tightly packed clothes and walked into the dressing room.

Sheng Jingyu sat alone on a soft chair, her gaze slowly scanning the carefully designed wardrobe.

These were all clothes Lu Zhao’s Grandma left her. Expensive vintage pieces stood the test of time, timeless thirty years back and thirty years forward.

Sheng Jingyu keenly recognized a few dresses she had seen at fashion shows. Expensive jewels and diamonds adorned the hems, undeniably beautiful but requiring effort to wear. Normally, such dresses wouldn’t be chosen by older people.

So these clothes weren’t worn by Lu Zhao’s Grandma but were deliberately left for her granddaughter.

Even if their future was limited, they did their best to prepare for their granddaughter, hoping she’d shine in these clothes someday.

In the distant past, Lu Zhao had been dearly loved.

So in the future, she should be loved too.

The thought suddenly popped into Sheng Jingyu’s mind.

Before she could dwell on it, Lu Zhao emerged from the inner room.

“What does Teacher think of this outfit?”

It was a black-and-white checkered suit, crisp fabric that didn’t look bulky on her.

Her proportions were perfectly accentuated, her wrists hanging past her hips, her tall frame exuding an Alpha’s sharpness, poised yet elegant.

The well-tailored skirt wrapped around her mid-thighs, revealing her legs in slippers, a departure from her usual loose pants. Her legs were straight and long, glowing under the sunlight, fair and balanced, unforgettable.

Sheng Jingyu’s gaze was unobstructed, deeply fixed on Lu Zhao.

Then her eyes stopped at Lu Zhao’s neck, gesturing: “If you wear this, the buttons need to be fastened properly.”

Sheng Jingyu couldn’t speak. Her words and actions were separate.

This made her words feel like an unavoidable notice to Lu Zhao at times.

It was the first time Sheng Jingyu’s fingers brushed Lu Zhao’s neck not to guide her breathing.

Her neatly trimmed fingers pressed against the buttons, the back of her hand faintly grazing Lu Zhao’s skin, lingering as if it might fall but didn’t, catching a fragile nerve and making her mind wander.

To fasten the buttons, Sheng Jingyu slightly lowered her head.

The central air conditioning’s cool breeze blew from one side, her soft hair swaying, its fragrance brushing Lu Zhao’s nose.

It was an indescribable scent, a cool fragrance like unknown wildflowers blooming in a field, tinged with the restless heat of summer under the blazing sun.

If one had to identify it, it was a scent seeping from the skin, from her body.

Perhaps they were too close, but Lu Zhao felt her cheeks slowly heating up.

The unfastened collar buttons were secured one by one under Sheng Jingyu’s hands, each movement like a tug at her heartbeat.

Restraining, restraining.

Sheng Jingyu suddenly looked up.

Lu Zhao instinctively froze, meeting Sheng Jingyu’s gaze, their eyes colliding once more.

The daylight was brighter than night, their clear pupils filled with sunlight, reflecting each other’s forms.

But the sun was too bright, softening subtle expressions in its overexposed light.

Perhaps the room’s air conditioning was faulty, as Lu Zhao’s breathing felt heavy, as if dampened by humidity.

Her pupils flickered, and she restrained herself, asking: “Is, is it done?”

Sheng Jingyu withdrew her hand at that moment.

Her expression was calm, her slightly sweaty hand gesturing lightly: “Yes.”

In the mirror, Lu Zhao turned to check her clothes, unaware of the gaze from behind.

She stood straight, the fine fabric outlining her figure, her long hair tied up, her neck and shoulders forming a beautiful line, glowing with a lychee-like fairness under the sun.

Sheng Jingyu restrained herself, silently shifting her gaze.

She pursed her thin lips, her throat rolling quietly, as if unable to bear the lingering dryness.

As evening lights came on, the high-rise’s glass walls reflected shifting colors.

Si Liaoliao adjusted her short skirt and stepped out of the car with Chen Ruozhi. She casually glanced at the building, more luxurious than Lu Xu’s hotel, her eyes filled with ambition.

As her thin heels touched the ground, another car pulled up behind them.

Its sleek black body bore a golden winged figure at the front, slowly entering Si Liaoliao’s view.

Si Liaoliao thought she’d coincidentally met another big shot attending the dinner, preparing a welcoming smile.

But the moment the car door opened, her smile froze.

Lu Zhao stepped out unhurriedly.

—She didn’t take a cab. When leaving tonight, Sheng Jingyu gave her car keys to Chenchen.

Golden light flowed over the car’s body, its understated model unable to hide its expense.

Lu Zhao steadied herself by the door, her suit skirt exuding quiet elegance, perfectly matching the car’s understated luxury.

It was a confidence radiating from within, a glimpse of true refinement only someone nurtured by it could reveal.

Chen Ruozhi was surprised. He never expected someone abandoned by their family to carry such poise.

Even enough to overshadow another completely.

The hall’s light spilled through the entrance, illuminating the area brightly. Si Liaoliao’s expression was unusually vivid.

She stood aside watching, her calm eyes lacking the ease she had when stepping out of the car.

The three stood in silence until Chenchen got out of the driver’s seat, breaking the quiet: “Chen Idiot, what a coincidence, we arrived together.”

Chen Ruozhi looked at Chenchen, wary: “What are you doing here?”

Chenchen blurted out: “I’m Ah Zhao’s assistant, obviously.”

“You know you’re just an assistant. Short on food or something?” Chen Ruozhi scoffed disdainfully, like sour grapes, “Such a nice car, wait in it.”

“You!” Chenchen stepped forward to argue with Chen Ruozhi but was stopped by Lu Zhao: “He’s not worth getting angry over.”

“If anything comes up, I’ll call you. Go to the night market nearby and get us some good food. It’s just a dinner, no one’s desperate to steal it.”

Lu Zhao calmed Chenchen, deliberately raising her voice for the last sentence.

Chen Ruozhi’s face changed upon hearing it, but wary of the occasion and Lu Zhao’s temper, he swallowed his frustration, waving: “Alright, let’s go in. They’re waiting.”

The hotel’s decor was opulent, but it felt hollow inside.

Lu Zhao and Chen Ruozhi walked in, each private room’s name carrying an overly poetic flair, especially the one they were led to, named: ‘Nanke Dream’.

Lu Zhao frowned at the name.

Was it the hotel’s subtle critique or forced poetic melancholy?

Though it felt awkward, it oddly fit the gaudy surroundings.

Perhaps today was her own ‘Nanke Dream’.

As Lu Zhao looked around, the waiter beside her opened the private room’s door.

The lively table fell silent, all attention turning to the people at the door.

They looked at Lu Zhao’s group, and Lu Zhao looked back.

The large private room was filled with dishes but few people, men and women, mostly Alphas. At the head was a sharp-looking Alpha woman, likely Director Li Qinqin, whom Chen Ruozhi mentioned on the phone.

The first to speak was a man beside Li Qinqin, familiar with Chen Ruozhi: “Xiao Chen’s here, a bit late.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll drink a penalty shot. Really sorry.” Chen Ruozhi fawningly poured himself a glass and drank it in front of everyone.

Li Qinqin’s gaze fell on the doorway, then she spoke unhurriedly: “These are your company’s two artists, right? I heard they both passed the audition? Very good.”

“Director, you have a great memory. This is Lu Zhao.” Chen Ruozhi said while pouring wine, brushing over Lu Zhao’s introduction, then pulling Si Liaoliao forward to Li Qinqin: “This is Si Liaoliao.”

Simply, Li Qinqin sized up Si Liaoliao, casually praising: “Very pretty. How old are you?”

“I’m 22 this year, Director,” Si Liaoliao answered.

Her voice carried a bold yet reserved air, cool and clear, like a delicate, vulnerable white rabbit.

Li Qinqin’s eyes flickered briefly, looking at Si Liaoliao again, then nodding: “Good, promising future.”

Hearing Li Qinqin’s words, the man beside her suggested: “Xiao Chen, you guys came late. Shouldn’t you take a penalty?”

He seemed to have planned it, pointing at Si Liaoliao, then Lu Zhao: “I heard these two are in the same girl group. We were just saying this dinner’s a bit dull. Why don’t they perform a song and dance to liven things up?”

Chen Ruozhi immediately sensed trouble. Not just Lu Zhao, but Si Liaoliao was in a short skirt. Dancing like that would surely cause a wardrobe malfunction: “Deputy Manager Shi, could we maybe…”

Before Chen Ruozhi could finish, Deputy Manager Shi glanced at him: “What, not convenient?”

Chen Ruozhi fell silent.

He’d encountered this at dinners with Si Liaoliao before. They were the ones needing to please others. Refusing could ruin things, or worse, provoke a ban.

Deputy Manager Shi, seeing Chen Ruozhi’s reaction, grew prouder.

But before he could speak again, a voice interrupted.

“It is a bit inconvenient. The girls are in short skirts. Just singing a line or two to show their voices should be enough.” Chen Annie, sitting at the edge, spoke casually.

Deputy Manager Shi didn’t take this person “brought along” by the director seriously. He only cared about pleasing Li Qinqin, who showed interest in Si Liaoliao: “No problem, Chen. Don’t they wear skirts like that on stage? They dance so beautifully, it’ll be fine.”

“I remember they have a stage, what’s it called, white skirts with high kicks, very nice.”

His words, though framed as praise, dripped with lewd desire.

His two sentences contradicted each other. The white skirt stage had Lu Zhao and Si Liaoliao in long skirts, and high kicks would definitely cause a wardrobe malfunction.

Disgusting.

The calm in Lu Zhao’s brow turned to anger bit by bit. She realized this wasn’t a company dinner. She and Si Liaoliao were packaged to flatter others.

They weren’t seen as equals sharing a meal. The organizers didn’t value them but treated them as entertainers to amuse others.

They were expected to use their bodies as bargaining chips for future competition opportunities.

Lu Zhao had faced this two years ago.

That time, the company removed her from the key training list.

Lu Zhao noticed Chen Ruozhi giving her a rare look, as if reminding her of that past incident.

“Come, come, not enough space? Come to Director Li’s side, it’s spacious here.” Amid the exchanged glances, Deputy Manager Shi grabbed Si Liaoliao’s hand and reached for Lu Zhao.

Lu Zhao subtly dodged his hand, flashing a trained company smile: “On the way here, Chen-ge mentioned Deputy Manager Shi. Now that I see you, he was right. You’re truly unique.”

Hearing this, the man’s expression grew prouder: “Oh? Tell me, how am I unique?”

Lu Zhao: “Of course, bold and strategic, deeply hidden.”

“That’s a first.” Deputy Manager Shi was predictably pleased, nodding approvingly at Lu Zhao, even thinking that though she was an Alpha, she wasn’t bad: “This girl you brought is interesting.”

Chen Ruozhi, hearing Lu Zhao’s words, was shocked by her sudden change in attitude.

But he didn’t think deeply or stay cautious, only feeling her act helped divert attention from Si Liaoliao. He smiled at Deputy Manager Shi: “Yes, yes.”

Still fawning, Deputy Manager Shi turned to Li Qinqin, offering flattery: “But I think the director is the most deeply hidden here today.”

“No way.” Lu Zhao disagreed, her smile fake, her eyes dripping with insincere flattery. “If you weren’t so cunning, how could you come up with this excuse to satisfy your groveling ideas? It must’ve been hard to think up such a plan.”

Her words fell, and the smile in Lu Zhao’s eyes grew truer, her amber pupils filled with mockery.

Even the second time, she still couldn’t bow to such rules.

Chen Ruozhi panicked instantly. He knew bringing Lu Zhao would cause trouble and quickly distanced himself: “Deputy Manager Shi, I never said that!”

“You!” Deputy Manager Shi’s face changed, raising his hand as if to strike Lu Zhao.

Lu Zhao stood still, unmoving, watching him.

Her Alpha aura surged like a wave, far fiercer than the potbellied man before her.

“If you want to liven things up, why not dance yourself?” Lu Zhao mimicked his earlier gaze, eyeing his belly mockingly. “I think if a bear danced, it wouldn’t be an eyesore. Everyone would probably laugh heartily.”

Deputy Manager Shi felt uneasy under her gaze, his anger growing: “What nonsense! Am I someone you can mock?”

Without pause, Lu Zhao shot back: “Then am I someone you can mock?”

The room fell silent.

No one should be mocked, but the pursuit of fame and profit makes the powerful forget this, forcing the powerless to bow, especially newcomers without backing.

Si Liaoliao watched, unaware of a flicker of envy in her eyes.

Over the years, Lu Xu hadn’t entirely favored her.

Her mother was a businesswoman, and she desperately needed to prove her worth.

Si Liaoliao watched Lu Zhao, relieved she broke the humiliation awaiting her, yet darkly pleased Lu Zhao ruined her own chance again.

But the private room’s next developments surprised her.

No one seemed upset by this small artist’s outburst. Some even laughed.

“Hahaha, well said. Now I’m actually curious.”

“Deputy Manager needs to lose weight. No need to bring you next time.”

“This girl’s suggestion is good. Do it.”

The room’s atmosphere grew livelier. Many had disliked Deputy Manager Shi since the dinner started.

Chen Annie reached out to Lu Zhao, signaling: “Come, Lu Zhao, sit here.”

Lu Zhao planned to leave but didn’t know Chen Annie and was wary.

Unexpectedly, Chen Annie held her, saying: “The director agreed to your idea for him to dance. Don’t you want to see?”

Chen Annie’s face held a gentle smile, subtly reminding Lu Zhao.

Lu Zhao felt the smile was oddly familiar, easing her guard.

Also, respecting the person behind the role, she sensed Chen Annie seemed more powerful than Li Qinqin and was cautioning her not to overdo it. Leaving would truly disrespect the director. She nodded, smiling at Li Qinqin: “Of course I’ll watch.”

Everyone sat, and music started in the private room.

Deputy Manager Shi knew no one in this circle was clean. He flattered Li Qinqin, knowing she’d acknowledge it silently. But if he messed up, she wouldn’t spare his face.

After all, he was wrong, not Lu Zhao.

The powerful cared only for results, not the process.

Music played, and someone had to dance in this room today.

So he had to dance.

The intense dance with his bulky figure was comically bear-like.

The tiled floor had low friction, and Deputy Manager Shi fell hard, the sound earth-shaking, as if he’d break the ground.

Lu Zhao sat beside Chen Annie, laughing while picking tasty dishes from the table, utterly composed.

She had no interest in the dinner’s transactional cost and saw no need to maintain a perfect image. If Si Liaoliao wanted it, she could flatter the director alone.

Lu Zhao let loose, occasionally chatting with Chen Annie, unaware of the gaze from the head of the table.

Chen Ruozhi, stressed about fixing the mess Lu Zhao caused, noticed Li Qinqin beckoning him and scurried over: “Director.”

Li Qinqin, ignoring Si Liaoliao serving her food, asked Chen Ruozhi: “This girl’s interesting. What’s her name again?”

Chen Ruozhi and Si Liaoliao paused simultaneously.

Chen Ruozhi didn’t want to but had to answer: “Her name’s Lu Zhao.”

He quickly added: “She’s an Alpha, Liaoliao is an O…”

But before he finished, Li Qinqin raised her hand to stop him.

Her deep gaze lingered on Lu Zhao, chatting well with Chen Annie, and nodded meaningfully: “Indeed a good Alpha.”

The dinner, expected to end badly, miraculously concluded with Deputy Manager Shi’s “hot dance.”

The hour and minute hands aligned. Chen Ruozhi, holding a wine glass, approached Lu Zhao, instructing: “Go toast the director. We’re leaving soon.”

Lu Zhao thought after causing such trouble, his tone would be impatient, but it was surprisingly polite.

So, her tone softened too. She drank juice all evening: “Oh,” taking the wine Chen Ruozhi prepared.

“Director, sorry for my rudeness, toasting you only now at the end.” Lu Zhao raised her glass politely, poised.

Li Qinqin looked up at Lu Zhao, waving it off: “No problem.”

She seemed to admire Lu Zhao, her eyes staying on her, clinking glasses: “You’re Lu Zhao, right? Sing well. My show promotes people. You’ll have a great future.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” Lu Zhao took it as polite encouragement, nodded, and drank the shallow wine in her glass.

A few wine droplets remained, sliding down the glass, reflecting murky light under the lamps.

Just like Chen Ruozhi’s gaze from the corner.

This wasn’t the expected dinner. Lu Zhao had no attachment to it.

She thought she’d done her courtesies and could return to her seat to prepare to leave.

At that moment, Chenchen messaged: [Ah Zhao, I bought lots of good food. I’m coming back soon! Are you almost done?]

Lu Zhao glanced at the nearly finished dishes and lingering guests, replying: [Soon, probably ten more minutes.]

While replying, Lu Zhao decided to sneak to the bathroom, saving room for her night market snacks.

No matter how fine the delicacies, she preferred night market food.

A quiet flush sounded in the bathroom. Lu Zhao stood, suddenly feeling dizzy.

She thought she stood too fast and didn’t think much, steadying herself on the door before walking out.

But in the corridor, the dazzling golden lights swarmed her eyes.

Her legs grew weak, the world spinning toward her.

Just before Lu Zhao’s legs gave out.

Someone caught her from behind.

Sorry for being late. Didn’t expect it to be so much longer QAQ, comment red packet!