Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha and Got Marked by the Enemy (ABO, GL) - Chapter 35

Chapter 35

The town basked in clear summer sunlight, with people leisurely strolling along the streets.

Life here moved slowly. Yu Jing and Xiao Ye waited ten minutes by the roadside for a taxi, arriving back at the guesthouse just past ten.

Xiao Yihuan and the others seemed to be still asleep.

Yu Jing tiptoed into her room, noticing Ming Zhu’s bed now had the guesthouse’s original white sheets, smoothed without a wrinkle, her belongings and luggage gone.

Realizing Ming Zhu had left early, Yu Jing let out a long sigh of relief.

It was better this way—less awkward if they didn’t meet.

The doctor’s explanation had been overwhelming. If Ming Zhu were still here, Yu Jing wouldn’t know how to face her.

At noon, the production team would send a car to take them back. With little time left, Yu Jing began packing.

She folded clothes from the wardrobe, packed skincare and makeup from the nightstand, leaving only her toiletries.

Pushing open the bathroom door, she took a few deep breaths, relieved not to smell lingering traces of her pheromones.

Last night, she’d made a mess on the floor. Now, the scattered items were neatly arranged on the sink—clearly Ming Zhu’s doing.

Yu Jing shook out a toiletry bag, packing her items. Halfway through, her fingers brushed the Omega-specific suppressant, tightening slightly.

This suppressant was likely what Ming Zhu found last night to curb her heat.

Flashes of last night’s intimate, awkward moments flooded her mind. Her face warmed, and she shook her head, clearing her thoughts, tossing the empty bottle into the bag, and leaving the bathroom.

Ming Zhu’s bl00d had been potent. Beyond marking her to suppress the heat, it shortened her heat period. Typically, an Omega’s heat lasts 3–7 days, but with their high genetic compatibility, Yu Jing’s heat subsided in just one day.

Still, last night’s toll left her drained, and she lacked energy even boarding the bus.

With Ming Zhu and Xie Haichao gone early, and Peng Ze staying with his parents, Yu Jing boarded the bus to find only Xiao Yihuan and Chen Chen.

They didn’t notice her, heads together over a phone, discussing as they watched.

Chen Chen: “These edits do look flirty. Look at Ming Zhu holding Yu Jing’s waist—two Alphas, same equipment, so why’s Jingjing blushing?”

Xiao Yihuan: “This eye contact is flirty too. Jingjing’s gaze is flustered, Ming Zhu’s intense. So much chemistry!”

Yu Jing approached. “What’re you talking about?”

Xiao Yihuan quickly hid her phone, looking up with an awkward smile. “Nothing.”

“?” Yu Jing’s puzzled eyes turned to Chen Chen.

Chen Chen was calmer, not hiding it, winking. “We’re watching your and Ming Zhu’s interaction cut.”

Recalling their conversation, Yu Jing felt uneasy, asking, “Where?”

“On Weibo, trending,” Chen Chen teased, winking. “Check it out, it’s wild.”

Yu Jing, offline all night after fainting, grew curious. Sitting down, she pulled out her phone.

Logging into Weibo, she saw #MingYuFlirtyInteractions# glaring at number five. Heart sinking, she clicked it under Xiao Yihuan and Chen Chen’s gossip-hungry stares.

She found the MingYu interaction cut Chen Chen mentioned.

The fan-edited clips were all from her and Ming Zhu’s moments in the second episode. The first scene showed their embrace crossing the balance beam, slowed down with pink bubble filters and romantic BGM. Comments screamed “so sweet.”

Yu Jing couldn’t watch further.

Before her face flushed, she snapped the video off, meeting Xiao Yihuan and Chen Chen’s teasing looks, feigning calm. “The second episode hasn’t aired. Isn’t this copyright infringement?”

Xiao Yihuan, sensing her deflection, played along. “Probably.”

Chen Chen, not clueless, shifted gears. “I thought I’d be the most popular of us six, but you and Ming Zhu are stealing the buzz.”

His tone hinted at resentment, and Yu Jing wasn’t sure how to respond.

Luckily, Chen Chen meant no harm. After venting, he laughed. “But your hype’s good for traffic. I heard the second episode’s live viewership doubled the first.”

Xiao Yihuan giggled at her phone. “You two have so many CP fans now.”

Yu Jing forced a dry laugh.

A staff member boarded, ending the topic.

As the bus moved, Yu Jing felt sleepy, wanting a nap, when Shen Jiayu messaged her.

Shen Jiayu: “Come to the company when you’re back to discuss your single’s release.”

Shen Jiayu: “This is the final version.”

Shen Jiayu: “Shared file: ‘Sunward’”

Staring at the file name, Yu Jing’s eyes stung, her sleepiness gone.

After three years, she finally had her first single.

Suppressing her excitement, she dug out earphones, plugged them in, and played the file.

When choosing songs, Shen Jiayu suggested mainstream love songs for broad appeal, but Yu Jing picked ‘Sunward’ for its lyric: If your heart faces the sun, you won’t fear sorrow. [Note]

The song told of an ordinary girl’s struggles and efforts, with intense emotional shifts—starting subdued, rising passionately, and ending gently. Its range wasn’t wide, but the challenge was conveying the three parts’ emotions fully.

Yu Jing’s speaking voice was crisp, her singing voice slightly magnetic, with clear low notes and round, non-sharp highs, both comfortable and distinctive. She’d recorded it over twenty times, listened to versions hundreds of times, yet never tired of it.

Looping the song, its melody banished her fatigue. Back in City B, she went straight to the company to meet Shen Jiayu.

Shen Jiayu, waiting long, felt for her rushed return, pouring her coffee herself. “Everything go smoothly?”

Sipping coffee, Yu Jing said, “Mostly smooth.”

Shen Jiayu frowned. “What’s ‘mostly’?”

Yu Jing shared her gender exposure and Ming Zhu witnessing her heat, omitting the temporary marking.

Shen Jiayu, stunned, sighed. “I knew this wasn’t foolproof.”

Not wanting to dwell, Yu Jing’s eyes sparkled, grinning. “Let’s talk about the song release.”

Shen Jiayu glared, then straightened, serious. “This is your first song. The company’s banking on it, prioritizing reach. I’ve coordinated with major music platforms for an 8 PM release. Promote it on Weibo.”

Yu Jing smiled, agreeing, already nervous.

After two ‘Treasure Hunt’ episodes, her Weibo followers hit five million, with many new fans—and haters. Her hands shook typing the post, checking the few dozen words repeatedly. At 8 PM sharp, she hit “send,” tossed her phone, and showered.

Post-shower, she mustered courage to check the post, expecting 2–3,000 comments, but saw over 30,000! She first thought the company bought bots.

Clicking the comments, she recognized familiar IDs.

[Congrats to my dearest Jingjing on her new song! You’re the best [heart]] — Wu Dan Ni.

[I love this song, great lyrics, amazing vocals!] — Xiao Yihuan.

[Such a great song, no surprise from my awesome teammate. This’ll blow up!] — Chen Chen.

[So good, support!] — Peng Ze.

[Must support] — Xie Haichao.

Not bots after all.

The top five comments were reposts from celebrity friends, their combined followers over a hundred million, explaining the comment surge.

Yu Jing blinked, touched and amazed by the familiar IDs. Wu Dan Ni and Xiao Yihuan were close, so their support wasn’t surprising, but she hadn’t expected the other ‘Treasure Hunt’ guests to repost voluntarily.

Before checking more comments, she switched to WeChat, opening the ‘Treasure Hunt’ six-person group.

After much thought, she carefully typed a message.

Yu Jing: “Thanks, Yihuan, Brother Chen, Xiao Ze, Brother Chao. I’ll treat you to dinner soon.”

At the same time.

Ming Zhu, seeing the group message, narrowed her phoenix eyes.

She didn’t get it. Why was Yu Jing thanking the others?

Noticing her name missing from the dinner invite, Ming Zhu’s gaze darkened.

Guess she wasn’t that likable.

Fair enough—since recording began, she’d barely spoken in the group or interacted privately, so being overlooked was normal.

She gave a faint, wry smile, about to close the chat, when another message appeared.

Yu Jing: “Thanks for getting me trending. I’m so grateful, I’ll kowtow! [kowtow]”

Ming Zhu’s fingers paused.

Trending again?

A day later, were their CP topics still up?

Ming Zhu switched apps, wanting to check Weibo, only to realize she hadn’t downloaded it.

She recalled the CP interaction trends were relayed by Zhou Qi.

Stunned by her instinctive action, Ming Zhu’s brow furrowed.

These past days, she’d been too focused on Yu Jing.

At “trending,” her mind jumped to Zhou Qi reciting haters’ comments accusing Yu Jing of piggybacking her for CP hype.

But what did that have to do with her?

Feeling oddly restless, Ming Zhu rubbed her temples, suppressing the faint, unwarranted curiosity and concern, not even wanting to check the group, and turned off her phone.