Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha and Got Marked by the Enemy (ABO, GL) - Chapter 36

Chapter 36

With the spontaneous help of Wu Dan Ni and her four friends, the hashtag #Yu Jing’s First Single “To the Sun”# soared to ninth on the trending list in just half an hour, and the streaming numbers on major music platforms kept rising.

Yu Jing was nearly overwhelmed by this unexpected surprise, her emotions so intense she couldn’t put them into words. She sent a few heartfelt messages in the group chat, and everyone gradually responded.

After an emotional round of thanks, Yu Jing left the group chat, intending to thank someone else. Then she noticed the soft, cute white cat avatar in the group. It hit her—she’d forgotten about Ming Zhu when she mentioned treating everyone to dinner…

Aside from that one time Ming Zhu inexplicably “sent the wrong message” and then deleted it, she never spoke in the group, making Yu Jing often forget she was even there.

But with Ming Zhu’s aloof, unsociable personality, she probably didn’t bother checking group messages, right?

Ming Zhu didn’t seem to have a Weibo account, so of course, she couldn’t have helped share Yu Jing’s post. That’s why Yu Jing specifically thanked the other four friends who shared it. No issue there, right?

Still, for the dinner invite, she should include Ming Zhu. After all, Ming Zhu had helped her so much during her heat.

Yu Jing thought it over, reopened the group chat, checked the member list, and found the white cat avatar.

Better say something privately.

Yu Jing sent a friend request and waited patiently.

Ming Zhu didn’t respond…

Was it because Yu Jing had rejected her friend request before, and now Ming Zhu was annoyed?

Yu Jing waited a long time with no reply, pouted, and opened her friend list to find Wu Dan Ni.

Since their falling out over Zhang Xu, Yu Jing and Wu Dan Ni hadn’t been in touch.

Honestly, aside from Wu Dan Ni’s despicable choice to accept unspoken rules for resources, she was truly a great friend. Last year, Wu Dan Ni gained fame as a supporting actress, and this year, she starred as the lead in another hit show, breaking into the A-list with two major IPs. Despite the huge gap between them now, Wu Dan Ni still supported Yu Jing, being the first to share her post. Yu Jing was deeply touched.

Yu Jing: “Thanks, Dan Ni, my treasure [love you]”

Wu Dan Ni replied almost instantly: “Thought you’d never talk to me again.”

Yu Jing gave a wry smile: “No way, we’re best friends.”

Having known Wu Dan Ni for three years, back when their group hadn’t disbanded, they supported and encouraged each other through tough times. Yu Jing remembered every bit of kindness Wu Dan Ni showed her. Even though they now disagreed on some principles, Yu Jing didn’t want to judge her entirely based on one issue.

Wu Dan Ni: “[Touched]”

Wu Dan Ni: “I’m holding a birthday party the day after tomorrow. Will you come?”

Birthday? Yu Jing quickly checked the date and realized Wu Dan Ni’s 21st birthday was coming up.

In previous years, Yu Jing would prepare a gift a week in advance, but last week’s tension made her forget.

Yu Jing remembered Wu Dan Ni spent last year’s birthday with fans. She wasn’t sure if this year would be the same since she’d been out of town and missed it.

She asked Wu Dan Ni, who said this year she wouldn’t celebrate with fans—just a small gathering with close industry friends.

Yu Jing happily agreed.

In a great mood, Yu Jing slept well that night.

The next morning, she woke up early, instinctively grabbed her phone to check her song’s progress, and saw an unread WeChat message. She opened it.

MZ: “?”

No name, just that. Who was this?

Still groggy from sleep, Yu Jing saw the white cat avatar and suddenly realized it was Ming Zhu.

She bolted upright, staring at the chat in shock.

Last night, she thought Ming Zhu was ignoring her on purpose. Turns out, she just replied a few hours late…

Yu Jing slouched, frowning at the cold question mark. After much thought, she slowly typed a response.

Yu Jing: “Thanks for what you did before. Let me treat you to dinner sometime.”

A few seconds later.

MZ: “No need.”

Yu Jing: …

Rejected so bluntly.

It felt like they were back to their old, hostile dynamic—her aloofness was suffocating.

Yu Jing didn’t even know why she added her as a friend. Annoyed, she scratched her bangs, closed the chat, tossed her phone aside, then remembered her song and picked it up again.

Opening the music platform, she saw “To the Sun” had climbed to second on the new song chart. Her low mood instantly lifted.

The top spot was taken by a popular idol who released a song the same day. Yu Jing knew she couldn’t beat him, but this result was already amazing for her.

Yu Jing’s mood went from cloudy to sunny.

She still had to hit the mall to pick a gift for Wu Dan Ni. Humming her new song, she happily got up to wash and change.

July 16, Wu Dan Ni’s birthday.

At 7 p.m., Yu Jing arrived at the Champs-Élysées Hotel with a gift, accompanied by Xiao Ye.

As she stepped out of the car, Yu Jing realized the place felt familiar. This year’s fashion gala and many major events were held here.

The Champs-Élysées Hotel was B City’s most luxurious hotel, where even a single dish reportedly cost four figures.

Yu Jing hesitated, glancing down at her outfit—a simple white sleeveless tube dress, high-top white sneakers, and a shell-shaped bag. Her entire look probably cost less than one dish here.

Yu Jing felt she’d been careless. She thought Wu Dan Ni’s “gathering” would be at a casual spot for food and fun, not such a high-end hotel.

Sigh, they really weren’t on the same level. Wu Dan Ni was a big star now, while Yu Jing was still a nobody.

Yu Jing gave a self-deprecating smile, tugging at her “cheap” dress.

She didn’t care much about her outfit, but she worried it might embarrass Wu Dan Ni.

As Yu Jing debated going home to change into something more presentable, Wu Dan Ni messaged: “I sent Meng Meng to pick you up.”

Meng Meng, Wu Dan Ni’s assistant, had already spotted Yu Jing and Xiao Ye, jogging over to greet them.

Yu Jing pushed aside her doubts and followed Meng Meng into the elevator.

Inside, it was opulent; outside, the city buzzed with traffic.

A uniformed doorman stood tall at the entrance. Seeing a white Bentley approach, he professionally stepped forward to guide it to park.

The car stopped, and a tall woman stepped out. A light blue gown hugged her graceful figure, her face lightly made-up, her striking features cold and captivating like carved ice.

Even the experienced doorman was stunned.

Her face was beautiful and familiar—the lead actress from the hit fantasy drama ‘Qinghu Legend’, named Ming Zhu, if he recalled correctly.

The doorman stole glances at her.

Ming Zhu didn’t notice.

The night was muggy, a warm breeze brushing her cheeks, stray hairs sweeping across her amber eyes. Ming Zhu squinted, catching a fleeting glimpse of a figure at the hotel entrance.

Why did it look so much like Yu Jing?

Ming Zhu wondered if she was becoming paranoid. Just a stranger—surely not that many coincidences.

She closed her eyes, refocused, locked her car, ignored the staring doorman, and strode into the Champs-Élysées Hotel.

It was Teacher Yang Fan’s 70th birthday, and as his prized student, Ming Zhu couldn’t miss it.

Carrying a gift, she entered the lobby, first spotting Yang Ming bustling through the crowd, then Yang Fan, surrounded like a star.

His white hair and beard were his most distinctive traits. The 70-year-old was full of energy, his voice booming: “I’m old now. Whether China’s film industry can shine again depends on you young folks.”

Yang Fan, a genius director, won an international award for his first film at 20 and kept racking up accolades. A legend in Chinese cinema, he shocked everyone by quitting filmmaking at his peak, a decision both lamented and regretted.

At 40, Yang Fan shifted to theater, and every production he touched became a classic. Six years ago, he met the then-unknown Ming Zhu and felt an instant connection.

Today, many celebrities and directors came to cozy up to the revered Yang Fan, but his eccentric personality meant he didn’t entertain everyone. Those who couldn’t get a word in lingered on the sidelines, gossiping.

“I heard Yang Fan quit films because of the lead actress in his last project.”

“No way, spill the tea!”

“Just hearsay, not sure if it’s true. Apparently, the actress ran off with a tycoon mid-shoot. Yang Fan was so pissed he quit and swore off films.”

“Whoa, a love scandal? What was her name?”

“No clue, Yang Fan banned all talk of it.”

The gossip grated on the ears, stirring irritation.

Ming Zhu’s slender fingers tightened on her gift box, her heels shifting as she stepped forward in her pointed stilettos, her voice icy: “It’s Yang Fan’s 70th birthday. Is it appropriate for you two to be gossiping here?”

The two whispering were minor male directors, unprepared for someone to overhear, let alone for Ming Zhu to call them out. They awkwardly turned away.

Ming Zhu didn’t expect a response and walked off after speaking.

The two regrouped.

One scoffed: “Just a B-list actress who thinks she’s a big deal after a couple of roles, daring to lecture me. Ridiculous.”

The other patted his shoulder, warning: “Don’t you know? Ming Zhu’s Yang Fan’s last disciple. With his backing, she doesn’t care about small-time directors like us.”

The first guy panicked and shut up.

Ming Zhu brushed off the chatter and approached Yang Fan.

Seeing him surrounded, she stood quietly to the side, not interrupting.

“You’re here?” Yang Fan spotted her.

Ming Zhu presented her gift with both hands: “Wishing you endless blessings and joy, Teacher Yang.”

Yang Fan’s assistant took the gift.

Normally stern, Yang Fan lit up with a kind smile at Ming Zhu, taking her hand and introducing her to the crowd: “This is Ming Zhu, my student. She’s a great actress. If you’ve got good projects, consider her.”

Several prominent directors eyed Ming Zhu with appreciation, learning she was Yang Fan’s student, showering her with compliments and flattery.

Ming Zhu wasn’t used to this but couldn’t disrespect the old man, so she grudgingly played along.

Finally, Yang Fan noticed her impatience, pulled her aside, and asked seriously: “Yang Ming told me your scenes in ‘Treasure Hunt’ got cut?”

Ming Zhu glanced at Yang Ming, busy with guests, and smiled faintly: “Teacher, you encouraged me to take that show to let loose. After two episodes, I’ve gained insight and growth. That’s enough for me. Whether I get screen time doesn’t matter much.”

Yang Fan admired her detached, proud attitude, seeing a familiar shadow in her. His gaze drifted briefly.

“Teacher?” Ming Zhu wondered what he was thinking.

Yang Fan’s eyes cleared, and he changed the topic: “I heard there’s a guest named Jing-something you don’t get along with. What did she do to upset you?”

Ming Zhu froze, not expecting him to bring up Yu Jing. She quickly said: “No, it’s all a misunderstanding. It’s been cleared up.”

Yang Fan nodded knowingly.

Someone came to greet him, and Ming Zhu, not wanting to socialize, excused herself to get food, finally escaping the hassle.

She usually skipped carbs at night. At the buffet’s fruit section, she caught a sweet, creamy scent and instinctively looked over.

Bright red strawberries, plump and juicy.

Out of season, these were likely greenhouse-grown, carefully displayed in an ice case, looking deliciously tempting.

High-sugar fruits were the enemy of figure management. Ming Zhu wouldn’t normally glance at them, but before she knew it, she’d picked one up.

She meant to put it back, but the strawberry’s delicate skin broke under the tongs’ gentle touch. Reluctantly, she placed it on her plate.

Staring at it, she hesitated to eat.

The sweet, creamy aroma hit her, familiar and sugary, inexplicably reminding her of Yu Jing and that fleeting figure earlier. She took a small bite.

Very sweet.

In the next hall over.

The birthday venue was decked out like a dreamland. The star of the night, Wu Dan Ni, looked like a princess, wearing a diamond crown, sparkling and radiant.

Yu Jing wanted to hug her but, seeing her expensive outfit, stepped back instinctively, flashing a bright smile as she handed over her hard-earned gift: “Dan Ni, happy birthday.”

Wu Dan Ni glanced at the packaging, her eyes lighting up: “It’s that elegant C+ perfume! I’ve been wanting it. Jingjing, you get me. Love you, mua~!”

Yu Jing, kissed on the cheek, saw her joy and felt happy too, smiling: “Your goddess uses this perfume too.”

That perfume was one Ming Zhu recommended to Yu Jing—crazy expensive, something Yu Jing wouldn’t buy for herself. But for Wu Dan Ni’s birthday, she splurged on Ming Zhu’s favorite, hoping it’d double her friend’s joy.

Wu Dan Ni’s goddess was Ming Zhu. She admired Ming Zhu’s acting and personality, seeing her as a goal to strive for. But recalling that day in A City, when Ming Zhu saw her with Zhang Xu and gave her a chilling look, Wu Dan Ni’s smile stiffened.

Yu Jing caught her reaction: “Dan Ni, don’t you like using the same stuff as others?”

Wu Dan Ni quickly masked her unease, flashing a perfect smile: “No way, I love anything you give me.”

Yu Jing relaxed.

Wu Dan Ni was popular, with tons of friends there to celebrate. She had to greet other guests, saying to Yu Jing: “Have fun, and if you need anything, find Meng Meng. I’m checking on things over there.”

“Cool, go do your thing,” Yu Jing said, not wanting to hold her up. She took Xiao Ye to get food.

Xiao Ye held her plate, unsure where to start: “I’ve never seen food this fancy in my life.”

Yu Jing laughed, piling expensive items onto her plate: “Then eat up.”

With food in hand, they found a quiet corner, watching glamorous actresses while eating silently.

Yu Jing wasn’t antisocial, but most of the guests were bigger names than her. She didn’t have the nerve to schmooze.

Xiao Ye quickly finished her plate, still hungry, and wanted more. Then her phone rang.

Yu Jing glanced over.

Xiao Ye saw the caller ID, groaned, and said: “My annoying little sister again.” Grumbling, she answered: “What?”

Whatever was said, Xiao Ye’s face changed, her tone shifting from annoyed to serious: “Don’t cry, it’s okay. I’m coming right now.”

Yu Jing saw her hang up in a panic, swallowed her food, and asked: “What’s wrong?”

Xiao Ye said anxiously: “My sister might be differentiating. Her classmate just took her to the hospital.”

Yu Jing knew Xiao Ye had a high school freshman sister, an Omega per her gene test. Differentiation was a big deal, but not bad. Yu Jing took Xiao Ye’s plate, setting it aside: “Go straight there. Drive safely.”

“Okay,” Xiao Ye said. “If I can make it back, I’ll pick you up. If not, call Sister Jiayu. Don’t take a cab—it’s not safe.”

Yu Jing waved her off, watching her go.

With Xiao Ye gone, Yu Jing felt bored. She played on her phone, then got thirsty and went for a drink.

“Are you Dan Ni’s friend?” A male Alpha approached with a glass of champagne.

Yu Jing recognized him as a regular in TV dramas, a B-list actor, and smiled politely: “Hi, I’m Yu Jing.”

The male Alpha eyed her subtly, a flash of admiration in his gaze, and said: “I know you. You’re on ‘Treasure Hunt’, and your new song dropped the other day. It’s great.”

Praised by someone more famous, Yu Jing was thrilled inside but stayed composed: “Thank you.”

The male Alpha wanted to chat more and stepped closer.

Yu Jing suddenly caught his leaking pheromones, her face changing. She stepped back.

He noticed her retreat, sensing her distance. Unsure what he’d done wrong but not one to push, he walked away with his drink, embarrassed.

Alcohol could trigger pheromones. Yu Jing later picked up faint traces of others’—Alpha and Omega alike. Though not threatening, the mixed scents were unpleasant.

Yu Jing avoided alcohol but worried her own pheromones might leak in this chaotic environment. Avoiding attention, she grabbed her bag and slipped out.

Her bag had a new medical-grade suppressant. Yu Jing ducked into the female Alpha restroom, entered the last stall, locked it, and pulled out the suppressant to spray.

Footsteps approached.

Two people, it seemed.

Yu Jing paused her spray, deciding to wait until they left.

But they weren’t there to use the restroom.

Two female Alphas in elegant dresses sauntered in, fresh from Wu Dan Ni’s party, touching up their makeup while gossiping.

The one in a red dress powdered her pale face, fuming: “Wu Dan Ni is so disgusting. One lead role and she thinks she’s untouchable. This over-the-top birthday bash—is she afraid people won’t know she’s got a sugar daddy?”

The one in a white dress was calmer but just as snarky: “This party’s probably funded by that Zhang guy from Jiacheng. He’s a known player. Wait and see—she’ll be dumped in six months.”

“Hah, she acts all pure but is so slutty behind the scenes. She’s average-looking, not even half as pretty as her Alpha friend… what’s her name, Yu-something. No clue what Zhang sees in her.”

“Maybe she’s good in bed.”

Bang—

The wooden door slammed against the wall, a loud crash.

The gossiping Alphas jumped, turning to see Yu Jing with her bag, glaring at them. Their voices stopped.

But they showed no shame or guilt, treating Yu Jing like air and continuing their touch-ups.

Yu Jing recognized them—well-known actresses with solid supporting roles. She hadn’t expected such vile behavior.

They didn’t take her seriously, so she saw no need to be polite.

Since they’d been stuck in supporting roles for years, they likely had no powerful backing. Everyone started on equal footing, and Yu Jing had nothing to lose.

Stepping across the wet floor, she approached them, her voice low: “I thought everyone at Dan Ni’s birthday was her friend. Seems you two seniors aren’t.”

The red-dressed one snorted, her tone dismissive: “A shameless woman like her? I wouldn’t bother being her friend.”

“Exactly,” the white-dressed one echoed.

Yu Jing’s grip on her bag strap tightened, her knuckles white. She gritted her teeth: “If you look down on Dan Ni so much, please leave.”

Their faces turned colorful. They indeed despised Wu Dan Ni but wanted to use her connection to Zhang Xu for benefits, so they grudgingly attended. Wu Dan Ni hadn’t kicked them out—where did Yu Jing get the nerve to?

The red-dressed one snapped, her face flushed: “It’s not your party. Who are you to tell us to leave?”

“Exactly,” the white-dressed one chimed.

Yu Jing sneered: “You don’t see Dan Ni as a friend but pretend to be close. Don’t you find yourselves more disgusting?”

The red-dressed one didn’t expect a nobody like Yu Jing to talk back like that. After sizing her up, she spat angrily: “Calling me disgusting? You’re the disgusting one. Wu Dan Ni sells herself for resources. Like attracts like, so as her best friend, you’re probably just as dirty!”

“Exactly,” the white-dressed one fanned the flames. “That reality show she’s on—didn’t Zhang invest in it too?”

The red-dressed one got it, her look at Yu Jing now laced with mockery: “No wonder. You got that gig by sleeping with Zhang too, huh? Tsk, just like Wu Dan Ni, same trash—”

Slap—

A crisp slap echoed through the restroom, cutting off the red-dressed Alpha’s words as her face snapped to the side.

Yu Jing, like an enraged kitten, bared her sharp teeth and claws, glaring furiously.

“You hit me?” The red-dressed Alpha, never so humiliated, rolled up her sleeves to lunge at Yu Jing.

“Calm down,” the white-dressed one held her back, eyeing Yu Jing warily. “If she’s with Zhang too, you’ll leave a mark. Aren’t you afraid Zhang will come after you?”

The red-dressed one realized she couldn’t afford to cross Zhang Xu. Still fuming, she glared at Yu Jing: “So I just let her get away with this?”

The white-dressed one whispered something in her ear.

Yu Jing couldn’t hear, but she watched coldly as the red-dressed one’s expression shifted from rage to smugness.

The two parted, and suddenly, two waves of unfamiliar Alpha pheromones hit Yu Jing with aggressive force, engulfing her.

Her body shook, instantly understanding their tactic.

They thought she was tied to Zhang Xu, so they avoided physical harm to dodge trouble, opting for a pheromone attack instead!

If Yu Jing were an Alpha, she could fight back with her own pheromones. But as an Omega, she had no chance to resist.

The dual pheromone assault overwhelmed her, making her tremble.

The red-dressed one, seeing her weakness, gloated to the white-dressed one: “What a pathetic Alpha.”

The white-dressed one shook her head: “Such a disgrace to us Alphas.”

Yu Jing couldn’t hear them anymore. Clutching her chest and stomach, she fought to suppress the surging, unstable pheromones within her.

She felt doomed today—struggling to breathe, head pounding, chest tight, her strength draining bit by bit.

She couldn’t hold on.

But Yu Jing refused to give in.

If her pheromones were forced out, exposing her Omega status, these two would be ruined for bullying an Omega.

If she was going down, she’d take her bullies with her.

Let it all crash.

Biting her lip, Yu Jing slid down the cold wall.

Just an inch from the filthy floor, a strong force pulled her up.

Dazed, she fell into a comforting embrace.

A cool tea fragrance enveloped her like a snowy blizzard. She forced her eyes open, seeing a face both familiar and strange, like a dream.

Was she hallucinating from the pain?

Why was Ming Zhu here?

The two female Alphas froze. They were in the middle of teaching Yu Jing a lesson when another Alpha stormed in with overpowering pheromones, making them stumble.

Ming Zhu’s pale eyes were like ice, shifting from Yu Jing to the two Alphas. Her pheromones surged like a blizzard, overwhelming them.

The two Alphas, defenseless, scrambled away in a panic.

Ming Zhu kicked the restroom door shut, locked it, and looked down at the trembling girl in her arms, her heart twisting slightly.

“Yu Jing, are you okay?”