Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha and Got Marked by the Enemy (ABO, GL) - Chapter 26

Chapter 26

“Blow on it, and it won’t hurt.”

Such a childish phrase, spoken by a nineteen-year-old girl, sounded like she was being cute—or maybe pretending to be drunk to pull some prank.

Ming Zhu’s wavering heart grew wary. She tensed her wrist, trying to pull back, but stopped short at the sound of an uncontrollable sob.

The girl, waiting in vain for the “blow,” loosened her grip. Her hand slid from Ming Zhu’s forehead to her cheek, rubbing against it like a cat, clinging dependently.

Her beautiful peach-blossom eyes were dazed and helpless, misty with tears that gathered into glistening drops, falling heavily onto Ming Zhu’s hand.

Ming Zhu flinched as if burned, her fingers twitching. She forgot to pull away, staring at her in a daze.

She thought it was a prank.

She didn’t expect her to cry…

The girl cried quietly, eyes wide, lips pressed tight to stifle any sound. Her small nose reddened, tears streaming endlessly from her eyes.

Ming Zhu’s hand, held tightly, was soon soaked.

She stopped babbling or begging for “blows,” just clung to Ming Zhu’s hand as if it were her whole world, silently venting.

The breeze blew softly, carrying away the heat and alcohol, leaving a room heavy with tears.

Ming Zhu didn’t know how long she stayed. Her palm went wet, then dry, then wet again, until the girl, exhausted, closed her swollen eyes, her breathing steadying.

Looking at the fragile girl after her outburst, at the tear stains on her face, Ming Zhu’s amber eyes clouded with gloom.

The scene before her blurred.

Light and shadow intertwined, reality and illusion indistinguishable.

It was a hot summer too.

On a weekend, while other kids played outside, a five-year-old girl ditched her friends to sneak home. She fumbled with the key around her neck, struggling to unlock the door, sweating profusely.

Sunlight poured in, ready to scold the disobedient child. But seeing her porcelain face, it softened, caressing her gently.

This little girl was stunning!

Her features were like a deity’s careful carving—thick brows, long lashes, phoenix eyes gleaming with amber light. Nervous, the light in her eyes flickered, glancing around, hands never stopping.

*Click—*

The door opened.

The girl stepped in with her slender legs.

Photos hung on the walls—a captivating woman holding a captivating girl, their features seventy percent alike.

This was her home.

A tiny rental, cramped and low-ceilinged, but surprisingly clean. The furnishings were simple: a desk and a rusty iron bed. Moldy walls were carefully covered with newspapers, the narrow space filled with sunlight and pleasant perfume.

The girl deftly shut the door, ran to the window to draw the curtains, darkening the room. Without turning on the light, she hurried to the bed, pulling an old wooden suitcase from underneath.

The box was locked, but that was fine—she knew where the key was.

That morning, pretending to oversleep, she saw her mom hide it under a cactus on the desk.

She reached under the cactus and found the key.

Ecstatic, she clutched it, unlocked the suitcase, her heart racing with excitement and fear.

She knew the box held treasures; her mom often took money from it. But she wasn’t a thief—she was just curious, wanting to know why her mom woke at night, hugging that box and crying.

That box was hidden in this suitcase.

She wanted to know what bad thing inside made her mom so sad. She’d find it and throw it away!

Her thin fingers gripped the suitcase’s edge. Biting her lip, she lifted it.

“I left this window open—why’s it closed?”

A melodious voice drifted in from outside, startling the girl. Her fingers slipped.

“Ah—!”

The suitcase lid fell, smashing her delicate hand. Unable to hold back, she let out a sharp, pitiful scream.

The cheongsam-clad beauty outside, hearing the cry, lost her grace, rushing to open the door.

“Baby!” Seeing the girl crouched, clutching her hand with tearful eyes, the elegant woman paled, gently holding her reddened hands. “How’d this happen? Does it hurt?”

The girl guiltily glanced at the open suitcase, lips trembling, confessing, “Mom, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have opened the box while you were gone.”

The beauty saw the suitcase, froze, and understood.

She didn’t scold her, though her eyes dimmed. Pulling the girl up, she searched for pain relief but found none. Touching her head, she said, “Hold on, I’ll get medicine.”

The girl watched her mom lock the suitcase, tears welling, feeling unworthy to cry.

She saw her mom grab her wallet and leave.

But she returned quickly.

The beauty, never one to lose her temper, applied the medicine gently.

“Hiss—” The stinging medicine hit the wound. The girl bit her lip, whimpering, “Mom, it hurts.”

Her mom, heartbroken, lifted her small hand, blowing softly. “Mommy will blow on it. Blow, and it won’t hurt.”

Her words worked better than medicine—the girl felt no pain.

Her smile pure, her lanky frame snuggled into her mom’s fragrant embrace, cooing, “Mom, you’re the best.”

…

“Mom, don’t…”

A dreamy murmur broke the illusion.

The fog cleared, the scene sharpening.

Ming Zhu, dazed, her dark eyes lightening, refocused on the half-awake girl.

Not catching her words, Ming Zhu didn’t wake her, silently watching her for a long, long time.

Until Yu Jing made no more sounds, sleeping peacefully, Ming Zhu pulled back her numb hand. Gazing at her twitching eyelids, she whispered, “Sleep. When you wake, everything will be better.”

As if comforting her—or herself.

The girl didn’t respond.

The wind picked up, whipping the curtains.

Drunk people shouldn’t catch a breeze. Ming Zhu gently closed the window.

The town’s night was pleasant. Insects danced around lamplights, crickets in the grass chirping occasionally.

Ming Zhu turned off the ceiling light, leaving a soft sleep lamp that warmly enveloped the girl.

She was asleep.

But not peacefully—her fingers clenched, brows furrowed, eyelids twitching faster.

Yu Jing was fighting chaotic dreams disturbing her sleep.

The dreams were a mess, scenes shifting: a grand house, a sleek sports car, a happy family of three driving; then a grimy urban village, a mossy rooftop, tangled wires, crowded heads, a frantic woman, and shrill honks.

Scorching winds battered her ears, a strong sense of weightlessness making her tremble.

Instinctively, she reached out, flailing, but didn’t find the comforting hand, only grasping air and a cold blanket.

Fine, the blanket would do.

Yu Jing hugged the summer quilt, rolling over. The dream shifted:

Wu Dan Ni sobbed hysterically before her. “I just want to be famous. Is that wrong?”

Yu Jing wanted to say: Wanting fame isn’t wrong; your method is.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came. Frustrated, she kicked.

In the dream, Wu Dan Ni wiped her tears, her gentle eyes hardening, unrepentant. “This world is survival of the fittest. If you can’t be strong, you cling to the strong.”

Yu Jing wanted to retort: I don’t need to cling. I can be strong!

Wu Dan Ni sneered mockingly.

The scene changed. Wu Dan Ni’s lovely face morphed into Zhang Xu’s greasy one.

Yu Jing recoiled.

Zhang Xu’s leering eyes held a knowing glint, brazenly staring, exposing her. “You’re a frail Omega now. What makes you think you can be strong?”

Dream-Yu Jing froze.

Zhang Xu sauntered over, leaning in with his oily voice, half-threatening, half-warning. “Stop hiding. I know your secret.”

Her stomach churned, sensing a trap. She turned to run.

“Still running?” Zhang Xu grabbed her collar, yanking her back like a chick. His nauseating nicotine pheromone enveloped her. Licking his teeth, he grinned sinisterly, leaning closer. “Once I mark you, let’s see if you dare run again!”

Help!

Yu Jing screamed silently.

The chokehold vanished, the foul pheromone replaced by a soothing cool scent. Zhang Xu’s disgusting face became Ming Zhu’s impassive one.

Yu Jing blinked, confused.

This face felt so real, like a high-definition camera, showing every distinct lash.

Ming Zhu’s cool hand brushed her cheek.

Yu Jing’s breath caught, instinctively grabbing her wrist, eyes terrified, voice hoarse. “Are you going to bully me too?”

Ming Zhu was stunned. “…When did I bully you?”

She’d just showered, taking her time to avoid waking Yu Jing. It was late when she finished, and as she settled to sleep, she heard Yu Jing tossing, kicking, and pounding the bed, so she checked on her.

Caught brushing hair from her face, Ming Zhu hadn’t time to feel awkward before Yu Jing’s bizarre accusation baffled her.

Yu Jing couldn’t tell dream from reality, staring hazily. Ming Zhu leaned forward, her loose pajamas parting, revealing a sexy collarbone and graceful swan neck.

Staring at that pale neck, Yu Jing vaguely recalled a similar dream long ago—Ming Zhu pinning her down, her seductive voice tempting, wanting to mark her.

So, was Ming Zhu trying to mark her now???

Her bl00d surged, her alcohol-numbed brain devoid of reason. As Ming Zhu tried to pull her hand back, Yu Jing’s free hand wrapped around her slender neck.

Panic flashed across Ming Zhu’s face, bewildered. “You…”

Yu Jing gave no chance to resist. While Ming Zhu was stunned, she hooked both arms around her neck, yanking her down.

Half-squatting, Ming Zhu was unsteady. Caught off guard, she fell forward, bracing her hands on the bed to avoid crushing her.

Her straight hair swayed, her posture exposing her alluring swan neck.

Yu Jing eyed that slim, pale neck, recalling the dream where Ming Zhu bit her, feeling indignant.

No one could mark her!

It was just a dream—biting back wouldn’t hurt.

Yu Jing bared her teeth, and before Ming Zhu could react, she chomped down on that tender skin with a “rawr.”

“Hiss—”

Sharp teeth broke skin. Pain jolted Ming Zhu, who reflexively shoved her away.

Yu Jing fell back on the bed, lips stained red, smacking them, satisfied.

Bite done, she felt great. Her heavy eyelids drooped, and she hugged her pillow, sleeping happily.

Ming Zhu stood frozen, gaping at the girl who’d fallen asleep without a care.

Crying and fussing was one thing—she bit her???

Ming Zhu touched her neck, feeling wetness, and frowned.

It was bleeding.

…

Birds hopped onto the windowsill, chirping.

The sun was high when Yu Jing stirred.

She’d slept so well the second half of the night that her usually punctual body clock failed. Sitting up, her bleary eyes scanned the unfamiliar room, slowly recalling it was the guesthouse.

She patted her heavy head, piecing together last night—she’d gone to Peng Ze’s restaurant, drank a few cups of his dad’s mulberry wine, and got blackout drunk.

Knowing her low tolerance, she avoided drinking outside. Last night was a fluke.

She didn’t remember who brought her back. Seeing she was in yesterday’s clothes, reeking of skewers, she wrinkled her nose, slid off the bed, grabbed clean clothes, and headed to shower.

Passing Ming Zhu’s neatly made bed, she paused, vaguely feeling she’d forgotten something.

Her mind still foggy, she couldn’t recall what, so she let it go.

In the bathroom, the mirror showed a nest of hair and a haggard face, startling her. She leaned closer.

Her eyes were puffy, bloodshot, but her skin was still decent.

She sighed in relief.

Good thing she was barefaced yesterday—sleeping in makeup would’ve wrecked her skin.

Though young, as an actress, skincare was crucial. After brushing her teeth, she’d wash her face properly.

Yu Jing absently squeezed toothpaste onto her electric toothbrush, started brushing, then smelled bl00d. Spitting out the foam, she saw dark brown bl00d.

Thinking it was her gums, she rinsed repeatedly. But her mouth didn’t hurt, and no more bl00d appeared. Puzzled, she didn’t dwell on it.

After washing her face and showering, she did basic skincare, checked her phone, and saw it was nearly ten.

There were unread group messages. She skimmed them.

Xie Haichao: “You lazybones, not one of you is up.”

Xie Haichao: “There’s food in the kitchen downstairs. I’m eating breakfast.”

Peng Ze: “I’m second?”

Peng Ze: “But Brother Chao, you’re up so early—before six!”

Xie Haichao: “Not like you lot. I’m going for a walk. Message me if you need me.”

Xiao Yihuan: “Morning~ I’m up too.”

Peng Ze: “No sign of Brother Chen. Still sleeping?”

Xiao Yihuan: “Brother Chen said he’s sleeping till noon.”

Xiao Yihuan: “Wonder if Jingjing’s up.”

Peng Ze: “She was plastered last night. Let her sleep.”

Xiao Yihuan: “Yup.”

The last message was ten minutes ago.

Warmed by her friends’ concern, Yu Jing typed with both hands.

Yu Jing: “Morning everyone~”

Yu Jing: “Sorry, just woke up.”

Peng Ze: “Brother Chen’s still out. What’s to be sorry for?”

Chen Chen: “Who said I’m not up? I’m awake!!!”

Peng Ze: “Brother Chen, didn’t you say noon?”

Chen Chen: “You all woke me with your chatter. My phone’s been buzzing all morning [angry]”

Xiao Yihuan: “Since you’re up, come eat breakfast. The owner just made it.”

Yu Jing noticed Ming Zhu hadn’t chimed in, but that wasn’t surprising—she rarely spoke.

Leaving the room, Yu Jing couldn’t help glancing at Ming Zhu’s tidy bed.

Heading downstairs, she saw the owner at the counter, smiled in greeting, and entered the dining area.

Xiao Yihuan and Peng Ze sat at the table with a pot of savory meat porridge, some side dishes, and boiled eggs.

Seeing her, Xiao Yihuan, who’d been on her phone, put it away, concern on her face. “You okay?”

Yu Jing shook her head sheepishly, pulled a chair next to her, and served them porridge, probing, “I didn’t go crazy last night, did I?”

She only remembered getting wasted, her mind fuzzy, barely able to stand, escorted back by the group, the night town beautiful, filled with laughter.

After that, her memory was blank—she’d passed out, having weird dreams.

Xiao Yihuan opened her mouth, but someone cut in. “You did something earth-shattering last night.”

Yu Jing turned to see Chen Chen sauntering over, stunned. “What earth-shattering thing?”

Xiao Yihuan and Peng Ze were confused too. They’d all returned together—how did they miss Yu Jing doing something huge???

Three pairs of eyes fixed on Chen Chen.

He strode over, grabbed an egg, tapped it on the table, glanced at Xiao Yihuan, then Yu Jing, smirking. “You got drunk and confessed to Yihuan.”

“…Brother Chen!” Xiao Yihuan’s face flushed, hurling her egg at him.

Chen Chen caught it.

She turned to Yu Jing. “Jingjing, don’t believe him. He’s lying.”

Yu Jing didn’t buy it. Not because she trusted her drunken behavior, but because she knew her orientation. As an Omega, she’d go for an Alpha, not Xiao Yihuan.

She glared at Chen Chen. “That joke’s not funny.”

Chen Chen plopped down, grinning, biting the egg. “Brother Chao back yet?”

Peng Ze shook his head. “Haven’t seen him.”

Chen Chen scanned the room, landing on Yu Jing. “Where’s Ming Zhu? Why didn’t you call her for breakfast?”

Yu Jing’s hand tightened on her spoon, mumbling, “She was gone when I woke up.”

“I think I saw her outside on a call…” Xiao Yihuan trailed off, spotting the tall figure. “Hey, she’s back.”

They all turned.

Ming Zhu returned under the blazing sun.

She looked less composed than usual, fingers gripping her phone, hair slightly messy, face clouded.

Sensing them, she glanced over, her expression shifting subtly at Yu Jing’s puffy eyes, then quickly neutral. She nodded politely.

“Sister Ming Zhu, eaten yet?” Xiao Yihuan asked cheerfully. “Join us if not—it’ll get cold.”

“Come eat,” Chen Chen added.

Ming Zhu’s refusal faltered at their warm invitations. She paused, lips curving slightly, washed her hands, and joined them.

The rectangular table fit six. Yu Jing and Xiao Yihuan sat on one side, Chen Chen alone on another, and Ming Zhu took the chair beside Peng Ze.

The earlier call had killed her appetite. She served herself half a bowl of porridge, no longer hot, and sipped slowly, listening to them praise the dishes and porridge.

She didn’t join in, finishing first. Looking up, she said, “I’m done. Take your time.”

“You ate so little,” Xiao Yihuan exclaimed.

Ming Zhu stood with her empty bowl, saying lightly, “Dieting.”

Xiao Yihuan eyed her enviable waist and legs, then her half-peeled egg, touching her soft stomach, hesitating. “Are eggs high in calories?”

Yu Jing laughed at her caution, reaching for the egg. “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”

Xiao Yihuan decided to eat, dodging her hand, but her elbow knocked her spoon off.

Ming Zhu, passing between them, caught it swiftly.

“Wow, your reflexes are insane!” Xiao Yihuan recalled her catching coffee last time, genuinely impressed.

Ming Zhu didn’t think much of it.

The table was far, and she glanced at Yu Jing, focused on her porridge. Not approaching, she stretched to place the spoon back. Her body tilted, hair falling aside, revealing her neck.

“Holy—!” Chen Chen, sharp-eyed, pointed at her neck. “Ming Zhu, what happened to your neck?”

Ming Zhu stiffened, instinctively reaching for it.

Too late.

Chen Chen’s outburst drew Yu Jing’s attention.

Seeing the deep bite mark on her pale neck, Yu Jing’s heart jolted uncontrollably.

Xiao Yihuan and Peng Ze leaned in curiously.

Four pairs of eyes, each with different emotions, gawked at the bite mark like it was a spectacle.

Peng Ze ventured weakly, “Who bit that?”

Xiao Yihuan tugged his shirt, eyes signaling: It’s Ming Zhu—how dare you ask!

Peng Ze, realizing his blunder, covered his mouth.

Chen Chen, bolder, grinned with interest. “Ming Zhu, did you sneak off last night for some mischief? Who chomped your neck?”

Yu Jing didn’t dare speak.

Ming Zhu’s gaze was calm, sweeping over the gossiping eyes, finally resting on Yu Jing, spoon in mouth, dazed. She said lightly, “Ask her.”