Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha and Got Marked by the Enemy (ABO, GL) - Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Under the hypnotic effect of the medicine, Yu Jing hugged her phone and fell asleep in a daze.

This time, she didn’t dream of Ming Zhu and had a good sleep. When she woke up again, it was already daylight.

The IV drip above her head was finished, and Xiao Ye went to fetch a nurse.

Shen Jiayu set up the small table on the bed and placed a box of hot porridge on it, chatting about some matters: “Dan Ni will be here soon, and I need to pick her up at the airport. Let me know when you’re discharged. If you’re still feeling unwell, you can rest at the hotel for a bit. When Dan Ni and I are done, we’ll head back together. Don’t worry about hotel or flight expenses.”

Yu Jing opened the takeout box, but before she could respond, Shen Jiayu’s phone rang. Yu Jing caught a glimpse of “Dan Ni” on the caller ID and paused her actions.

Shen Jiayu answered the call, putting the phone to her ear: “Boarded yet?”

Wu Dan Ni’s voice was soft, with a slight morning hoarseness: “Sister Jiayu, I’m already here.”

“So early?” Shen Jiayu glanced at her watch. “Didn’t you say it was a noon flight? Where are you?”

“I just got off the plane,” Wu Dan Ni said, pausing. “It’s my first time on a big show like ‘Happy Star’, and I’m a bit nervous, so I wanted to come early for rehearsals. Are you all still at the hospital? How’s Jingjing? Is she better?”

The ward was spacious and quiet, and Yu Jing heard her name through the phone’s speaker. Her lips curved up, and she leaned over Shen Jiayu’s arm, shouting into the phone: “Dan Ni, I’m fine now! Don’t worry!”

Shen Jiayu glanced at her and switched to speakerphone.

With the speaker on, Wu Dan Ni’s gentle, smiling voice came through clearly: “Good to hear you’re okay. Last night, Sister Jiayu told me you were hospitalized, and I was so worried I couldn’t sleep.”

Yu Jing felt a warm sweetness in her heart and teased, “After all these years, Captain, you’re still such a worrier.”

Their old group, KISS, had four members, and Wu Dan Ni, being the oldest with a kind and gentle personality, was chosen as the leader. Though the group disbanded after less than a year and they rarely met up afterward due to their busy schedules, Yu Jing still felt nostalgic thinking about their days together.

Wu Dan Ni, reminded of something by the old title, fell silent for a moment before saying softly, “Sorry, Jingjing, I have to head to the TV station later and can’t visit you.”

“No worries, I’m getting discharged soon,” Yu Jing said with a cheerful grin. “When you’re done, come back to B City, and I’ll cook something delicious for you.”

“Sounds good,” Wu Dan Ni laughed, sighing, “It’s been so long since I had your cooking. I kind of miss it.”

Since Shen Jiayu and Wu Dan Ni had business to discuss, Yu Jing chatted briefly and then focused on her porridge.

After Shen Jiayu ended the call to meet Wu Dan Ni, Yu Jing waved goodbye. Halfway through her porridge, Xiao Ye returned with a nurse.

The nurse hooked up Yu Jing’s final IV drip.

After the drip, Yu Jing went for a checkup, and the doctor said her pheromones had stabilized, so she could be discharged.

Yu Jing’s face lit up with joy, but before the smile reached her eyes, the doctor said, “Your medical record still lists your secondary gender as undifferentiated. Haven’t you reported to the Civil Affairs Bureau yet?”

Yu Jing followed his finger to the gender section, her expression stiffening. She forced a casual smile: “Been a bit busy these past few days, haven’t had time to deal with it.”

“Oh,” the doctor drawled, his eyes behind his glasses suddenly sharp, squinting at her strikingly beautiful face with suspicion. “Why do I feel like you look familiar? You’re not a celebrity, are you?”

“…No, no way, how could someone like me be a celebrity? Doctor, you’re such a joker,” Yu Jing said, her toes curling as her gaze wavered.

The doctor stared at her for a while but didn’t recognize her, so he believed her. Closing the medical record, he casually said, “I’ve treated some female celebrity patients before, but you’re much prettier than them.”

Yu Jing humbly said, “Oh, no, thank you for the compliment,” while inwardly laughing and crying. She was relieved she wasn’t recognized but also a bit disappointed that she wasn’t.

Celebrities are known everywhere, but someone like her, without even a notable work, what kind of star was she?

The disappointment was fleeting. Yu Jing quickly adjusted her mood, picked up her medical record to leave, but the doctor stopped her.

“There’s something I need to remind you about,” the doctor said, pushing up his glasses with a serious expression. “Omegas have a heat cycle every month. You know that, right?”

Yu Jing’s mind flashed back to what she learned in school—

Junior high biology class had detailed lessons on the three ABO genders: Betas were the most ordinary, with little change before or after differentiation; Alphas had a susceptibility period with no fixed pattern, varying by individual; Omegas had a monthly heat cycle, lasting three days to a week, depending on the person.

Of course, she knew Omegas had heat cycles. But for years, Yu Jing thought she’d differentiate as an Alpha and never paid much attention to Omegas. Caught off guard by the question, she gripped her medical record tightly and nodded.

The doctor, not noticing her unease, continued routinely, “The heat cycle usually starts on the differentiation date, so remember that. Also, the first heat after differentiation can be intense. You need to be extra careful. If you’re not ready to be marked, avoid contact with Alphas during those days, or it could be dangerous.”

Yu Jing’s mind was flooded with alarming words like “heat,” “intense,” “marking,” and “danger.” Her lips paled as she pressed them together and said, “I understand. Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome.”

Leaving the consultation room, Yu Jing immediately searched “heat cycle” and “marking” on her phone. She came across a news article about an Omega forcibly marked by an Alpha during their heat. Inappropriately, she thought of the absurd dream from last night, her heart trembling, and quickly closed the page.

Had that annoying Ming Zhu left the hotel yet?

It was a quiet Saturday morning.

In the hotel’s empty corridor, a tall figure stood motionless in front of Room 1504, like she’d been frozen in place for five minutes.

She wore a light blue V-neck cotton T-shirt and black linen wide-leg pants, a casual outfit that didn’t stand out but drew attention from a passing room service waiter due to her height and striking presence.

“Ma’am, do you need any help?” The waiter, a female Omega, had passed by several times delivering food and noticed the female Alpha still standing at the door, so she spoke up.

Ming Zhu’s stiff shoulders twitched slightly. She turned to meet the waiter’s eager gaze, hesitated, then pointed at the closed door and softly asked, “Do you know if the guest inside is awake?”

“Oh, you’re Ming Zhu!” The waiter, stunned by her features, let out a squeal.

“Shh—” Ming Zhu put a finger to her lips, signaling her to be quiet, and pointed at the door again.

The waiter, embarrassed by her outburst, covered her mouth. Glancing at the room number, she didn’t know who was staying there and shook her head, whispering, “I’m not sure. But if you’re looking for them, you could just knock. If they’re awake, they’ll open the door.”

Realizing she’d stated the obvious, the waiter flushed, looking down at her empty cart. Online rumors said Ming Zhu was cold and arrogant—would she get scolded for being nosy?

But Ming Zhu didn’t reprimand her. Instead, she thanked her gently and continued staring at the door, as if trying to bore a hole through it.

Feeling she hadn’t helped, the waiter awkwardly pushed her cart away.

At the elevator, she glanced back at Ming Zhu’s striking figure and thought: Maybe Ming Zhu isn’t that cold. Her looks are just intimidating, making her seem unapproachable. But she smiled at me! Even if it was a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

The elevator hadn’t arrived, and the waiter greedily took in the sight.

Slim waist, long legs, beautiful, and a great actress—Ming Zhu was the perfect Alpha goddess in her eyes!

The waiter’s heart fluttered as she sneakily pulled out her phone to snap a side profile picture. Just as she raised it, Ming Zhu moved.

Ming Zhu stepped closer to Room 1504, took a deep breath, and finally raised her hand to knock lightly.

*Knock, knock, knock—*

Three polite knocks, then she waited.

After about a minute with no response, Ming Zhu exhaled softly, raised her hand, and knocked three more times.

Worried about disturbing other guests, she knocked slightly harder than before, but not too loud. Still, no response.

Ming Zhu’s smooth brow furrowed. She checked the time on her phone.

It was past ten, not exactly early. Was she still asleep?

Or deliberately ignoring her?

Her slender fingers slid across the screen to open WeChat. She clicked on a contact, seeing the friend request she’d sent at midnight, still unanswered.

Last night, their group chat was buzzing, and Ming Zhu, after lurking, added Yu Jing through the group right after she sent a message. But hours later, Yu Jing hadn’t accepted—either she didn’t see it or was ignoring it.

No one answered the door, and the friend request was still pending.

Ming Zhu’s fingers hovered over Yu Jing’s bright, smiling profile picture, her heart conflicted.

“Ming Zhu?” Zhou Qi approached, puzzled to see her standing like a statue at Room 1504. “Why are you here?”

Ming Zhu pocketed her phone, glanced at her, then at the closed door, her lips moving softly: “I want to talk to her.”

“Her? You mean Yu Jing?” Zhou Qi was even more confused. “What do you have to talk about with her?”

Ming Zhu’s calm expression wavered, hesitating before saying, “Last night, when I left the private room, I saw Zhang Xu being all touchy with some girl.”

Zhou Qi thought she’d figured it out, blurting, “That was Yu Jing?”

“I thought so too at first,” Ming Zhu said slowly, her gaze lowering. “But when I followed them, it wasn’t her.”

“This…” Zhou Qi’s mind raced. “It’s not a big deal. Zhang Xu’s a player, always messing around with multiple girls.”

“No, it’s not that,” Ming Zhu said, her expression complex, her flickering gaze carrying uncertainty but her tone firm. “The girl was wearing the exact same bracelet as Yu Jing, but it wasn’t her.”

“Huh?” Zhou Qi was lost.

Ming Zhu looked back at the closed door of Room 1504, her expression heavy, sighing softly, “I think I got it wrong.”

At the wrap party for ‘Ranger’, Ming Zhu overheard rumors that Zhang Xu had his eye on a singer named Yu Jing. Later, she saw Zhang Xu being intimate with a girl in an elevator. She didn’t see the girl’s face, only the bracelet. At last year’s red carpet, Yu Jing wore the same bracelet when she shook Ming Zhu’s hand, and Ming Zhu caught the faint scent of Zhang Xu’s nicotine-laced pheromones on her. Based on these “clues,” she was convinced Yu Jing was involved with that sleaze Zhang Xu to climb the ranks.

Last night, realizing another woman was wearing the same bracelet, Ming Zhu’s assumptions crumbled.

In fact, when Yu Jing approached her to shake hands last year, Ming Zhu had a fleeting doubt. Why would someone who hid their face in the elevator boldly greet her? But she didn’t dwell on it, assuming Yu Jing was fearless because of Zhang Xu’s backing.

The truth was, Yu Jing hadn’t even met her before and was simply being open.

If Yu Jing had been with Zhang Xu since last year, she’d have had plenty of opportunities, so why was she still a nobody?

No wonder Yu Jing said last night that the red carpet was their first meeting. The woman in the elevator with Zhang Xu wasn’t her.

The gaps were obvious, but Ming Zhu had prejudged Yu Jing as a scheming girl and never bothered to question her assumptions.

Because of her misjudgment, she’d treated a girl six years her junior so poorly…

What a terrible prejudice.

Ming Zhu recalled Yu Jing’s trembling voice last night, her fragile shoulders, and her dim eyes that even streetlights couldn’t brighten.

The girl must have felt so wronged, so angry at her.

Ming Zhu never cared about others’ opinions of her—cold, arrogant, whatever. She never argued or explained.

She also never cared about others’ biases against her, but now, because of her own prejudice, she felt deep regret and guilt toward that girl.

She hadn’t slept well, thinking all night, and decided to apologize in person, but no one gave her the chance.

After knocking for a while with no response, Ming Zhu gave up.

She thought, since Yu Jing’s group was also heading back to A City on the same flight booked by the production team, maybe she’d see her at the airport and talk then.

But at the airport, Ming Zhu only saw Chen Chen, Peng Ze, and Xie Haichao.

Chen Chen and Xie Haichao were playfully bickering, drawing looks from passersby. Peng Ze quietly watched them, chin in hand.

Ming Zhu stood coldly to the side, her eyes scanning the crowd, realizing two women were missing from the group.

She remembered Xiao Yihuan was staying in A City for a shoot, but where was Yu Jing?

“Ming Zhu, what are you looking for?” Peng Ze, ever observant, noticed her searching and couldn’t help asking.

Ming Zhu’s gaze froze, meeting his clear eyes, and somehow thought of another pair of eyes.

Yu Jing’s eyes were also clear—not big, but always bright when she spoke, especially when she teased someone successfully, sparkling like a clear spring, beautiful and lively.

Only someone with a pure heart could have such eyes.

Ming Zhu had misjudged her for so long, thinking she was just good at pretending. But now…

Peng Ze, a sweet little Omega, blushed under the intense stare of an Alpha, lowering his head shyly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

The illusion faded, and Yu Jing’s lovely face turned into Peng Ze’s.

Snapping out of it, Ming Zhu realized her stare was too direct. She looked away, then back, hesitating before asking, “Xiao Ze, is Yu Jing not leaving today?”

Surprised she’d ask about Yu Jing, Peng Ze forgot his shyness and said, “Jingjing was at the hospital last night getting an IV. She missed the flight and changed it. Didn’t you see the group chat?”

Ming Zhu froze, pulled out her phone, opened the new WeChat group, and scrolled up, stopping at a conversation.

Chen Chen: “Luggage packed, let’s go @everyone.”

Peng Ze: “On my way.”

Xie Haichao: “I’m done with breakfast, waiting at the downstairs restaurant.”

Xiao Yihuan: “I want to go with you guys, but I have work [sigh].”

Yu Jing: “I changed my flight, folks! Aunt Flo hit hard, was at the hospital last night getting an IV, missed the flight. You guys go ahead~”

Ming Zhu didn’t read further.

She remembered knocking on the door that morning with no response—Yu Jing was at the hospital.

Was her period pain that bad?

Ming Zhu recalled Yu Jing’s pale, weak face outside the bathroom last night, clutching her stomach, and her heart stirred.

The airport announcement reminded them to board.

“Xiao Ze, Ming Zhu, let’s go,” Chen Chen called.

“Coming!” Peng Ze grabbed his suitcase, glancing at Ming Zhu, who seemed lost in thought, finding her odd today.

Weren’t Ming Zhu and Yu Jing always at odds? They barely interacted outside of work, so why was she asking about Yu Jing?

Peng Ze sensed her tone wasn’t casual—it carried a hint of concern. A sudden thought hit him.

Could the rumors online about them having a secret fling be true???

Curious but too shy to ask, Peng Ze joined Chen Chen and the others with his questions.

The production team was generous, booking business class with VIP access, so they skipped the lines and boarded quickly.

As passengers were still boarding, a flight attendant slowed down passing the celebrities, stealing glances.

Chen Chen and Peng Ze, exhausted, put on eye masks to nap. Xie Haichao lounged, reading a fashion magazine.

Compared to the three guys’ relaxed postures, Ming Zhu sat overly upright in casual clothes, taking up only a third of her seat, her back straight, her swan-like neck curved gracefully. Her long fingers, nails neatly trimmed, held her phone, tapping lightly. Her calm face occasionally showed an unreadable expression, as if wrestling with a dilemma.

Celebrity lives, full of glamour and mystery, were tempting to peek into. But as a professional, the flight attendant didn’t snoop, only hearing Ming Zhu sigh heavily as she passed.

Then she saw Ming Zhu lean back in her seat, as if relieved.

Was playing on her phone that tiring?

The flight attendant didn’t get it and didn’t ask, moving on. She heard Xie Haichao’s phone ping a few times.

Xie Haichao, holding his magazine, remembered he hadn’t turned off his phone. Unlocking it, he saw new group chat messages, frowned, and looked at Ming Zhu. “Ming Zhu, what did you send? Why’d you retract it?”

Ming Zhu’s back stiffened. She flipped her phone face-down on the tray table, glancing over calmly. “Nothing, sent it by mistake.”

“Oh.” Xie Haichao didn’t doubt her, turned off his phone, and went back to his magazine.

Ming Zhu tapped her phone’s back, quietly steadying her breath.

Xie Haichao didn’t see it, so she probably didn’t either, right?

Meanwhile.

Waiting for Xiao Ye to handle discharge procedures, Yu Jing heard a notification and opened the group chat. She saw Ming Zhu had sent three messages and retracted them—totally baffling.

She wasn’t curious about what Ming Zhu sent. Seeing Xiao Ye approach, she was about to pocket her phone when another message came.

Not from the group chat, but a private one.

Yu Jing opened Xiao Yihuan’s message.

It was a screenshot.

It captured what Ming Zhu had sent and retracted in the group chat:

Ming Zhu: “Shared article: Women’s Periods: Things You Absolutely Shouldn’t Touch!”

Ming Zhu: “Shared article: Don’t Fear Period Pain: These Relief Hacks Are Must-Haves!”

Ming Zhu: “You might want to check these out @Yu Jing”

Yu Jing: ???

Xiao Yihuan: “Good thing I’m quick with screenshots!”

Xiao Yihuan: “She’s totally concerned about you, right? You said there’s no fling, but look, I caught evidence!”

Evidence, my foot…

Yu Jing didn’t reply to Xiao Yihuan, zooming in on the screenshot multiple times, her face gradually mirroring the confused old man on the subway meme.

She genuinely didn’t get it.

Was Ming Zhu, that annoying jerk, losing it, or had she been possessed???