Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha and Got Marked by the Enemy (ABO, GL) - Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Just 0.01 seconds shy, Zhou Qi nearly sent the drafted refusal. She stopped, looked up, and stared at the person across from her in shock: “Take it?”

Ming Zhu gave a faint “hm,” her expression as usual, unreadable.

Zhou Qi quickly deleted the unsent message, flipping her phone face-down: “Why the sudden change of heart?”

Ming Zhu set down the menu she’d been studying, took a sip of plain water, and said lightly: “I’ve been free lately. Thought I’d find something to do.”

Free enough to shoot a magazine?

If anyone else said that, Zhou Qi would believe it without a second thought, but this was Ming Zhu!

Recalling Ming Zhu’s reaction, Zhou Qi grew more puzzled. Ming Zhu had initially refused, only changing her mind after hearing the other guest was Yu Jing.

“Is it because of Yu Jing?” Zhou Qi found it hard to believe, but she couldn’t think of another reason for Ming Zhu’s unusual behavior.

Ming Zhu held the glass elegantly with both hands, glancing at her lightly, neither confirming nor denying.

Seeing her reaction, Zhou Qi’s eyes nearly popped out: “Why?” Before Ming Zhu could answer, she rushed to add, “You’re not secretly planning to hype a CP with her, are you???”

Ming Zhu’s calm facade wavered slightly. She pressed her slightly wet lips, her tone helpless: “Do you think I need to hype anything?”

Zhou Qi shook her head almost instinctively.

Having managed Ming Zhu for two years, Zhou Qi had never seen an artist like her. Besides filming and necessary promotions, she never took on gigs. Someone who could be a star but didn’t care to be—what was the point of hype?

Still, Zhou Qi couldn’t fathom why Ming Zhu would break her principles to help Yu Jing.

Ming Zhu lowered her lashes, gazing at the rippling water in her glass, pondering, and said softly: “I misunderstood her for so long, gave her a hard time. This is just to make up for it.”

That reason… seemed plausible?

Zhou Qi faltered, speechless.

But Ming Zhu finally accepting a gig, whatever the reason, made Zhou Qi, as her manager, relieved. Ming Zhu was usually too aloof; Zhou Qi worried she’d bottle things up until she got sick.

Light and Shadow Media Studio.

Practice Room.

Shen Jiayu leapt from her chair, clutching her phone, rushing to Yu Jing, who was practicing in front of the mirror, shouting: “Ming Zhu agreed!!!”

Yu Jing stopped, panting, her ears ringing, not catching the words, her expression blank.

Shen Jiayu shoved the phone in her face.

The screen showed Shen Jiayu’s chat with the magazine. Yu Jing wiped sweat from her eyes, saw the final shooting notice, and let out a stunned “ah.”

It was real.

Why would Ming Zhu agree?

Though it was a huge surprise, Yu Jing’s doubts overshadowed her joy.

She wiped sweat from her palms, grabbed the phone used for music, opened WeChat, clicked Ming Zhu’s avatar, and asked directly: “Why’d you agree to shoot a dual cover with me?”

Yu Jing had braced for the invitation to fall through. Though Shen Jiayu hadn’t given up, she thought Ming Zhu’s personality made it unlikely, even planning to ask the magazine if Yu Jing could shoot with Wu Dan Ni instead.

This outcome was truly unexpected.

Unsure if Ming Zhu had time to check her phone, Yu Jing sent the message and was about to close the window when she saw “typing” appear. She held the phone, waiting.

Two minutes later, Ming Zhu’s message came through.

Expecting a long explanation, Yu Jing stared, only to see “short on cash.” Her mouth twitched hard.

Taking a gig for money was a normal reason. But two minutes to type two words??? Even typing with toes wouldn’t take that long!

Something felt off.

Yu Jing didn’t think Ming Zhu seemed strapped for cash. She’d starred in two hit dramas, both lead roles—her pay couldn’t be low, right?

But then again, as a broke person who felt a dollar weighed a ton, maybe Ming Zhu’s “short on cash” meant millions?

A magazine cover wouldn’t pay that much, but if it went viral, the benefits could be huge.

Having only met Ming Zhu a few times, Yu Jing didn’t claim to know her well, so she puzzled over the reason briefly before accepting it.

Ming Zhu agreeing was enough; no need to dig into why.

Thrilled to land the magazine gig, Yu Jing felt energized. She replied to Ming Zhu with “see you tomorrow,” tossed her phone, and resumed practicing.

The magazine scheduled them for 7 a.m. Back at her apartment, Yu Jing washed up and went to bed early.

But before sleeping, she did some homework.

Though she’d shot many magazine covers and photographers praised her camera presence, she’d never done a dual shoot. ‘Red Beauty’, a top magazine, surely had high standards, making her nervous.

She searched online for ‘Red Beauty’ info, learning it ran an annual same-s3x love feature. She checked past dual covers for it, her face growing redder.

“Same-s3x love” was a sensitive topic, and stars cared about their image, so no actual same-s3x couples shot these covers. Like her and Ming Zhu, they were just paired CPs.

Inviting popular CP-paired stars for a same-s3x love theme was fine.

But the problem was, these dual covers were so bold…

Yu Jing clicked one randomly, saw the overly intimate poses, imagined herself and Ming Zhu, and felt utterly mortified.

Too embarrassed to look more, she tossed her phone, pressed her burning cheeks, and had a sinking feeling the shoot might not go smoothly.

The next day.

Dawn barely broke when Yu Jing’s alarm woke her.

Fearing traffic delays, she and Xiao Ye hurriedly washed, dressed, left the apartment, and rushed to the magazine office.

Traffic cooperated, and they arrived twenty minutes early.

As their car parked, a white Bentley pulled up beside them.

Xiao Ye glanced over, delighted: “They’re here too.”

Yu Jing looked past Xiao Ye, saw Ming Zhu’s group, her sleepy eyes jolting.

Both groups got out of their cars.

Ming Zhu spotted Yu Jing instantly. She wore a bright yellow dress, her soft hair in a bun, youthful and vibrant, like a fresh little flower. The yellow made her skin look snowy, but her face seemed off, faint makeup unable to hide dark circles.

Didn’t sleep well last night?

Ming Zhu gazed at her lackluster eyes, not asking the question, only saying softly: “Morning.”

Seeing Ming Zhu, Yu Jing’s mind flashed to those intimate dual covers, her thoughts a mess.

She shouldn’t have looked at those last night. Imagining them kept her up, leaving her drained.

Her eyes darted, avoiding Ming Zhu. She touched her ear awkwardly, mumbling: “Morning.”

With business ahead, they didn’t linger on greetings, exchanged a quick hello, and headed for the magazine office’s glass doors.

As they stepped in, the assistant editor and chief editor greeted them warmly.

After introductions and pleasantries, the chief editor said apologetically: “We’ve invited the renowned Teacher Lü Han to shoot you both today. He didn’t like our original plan, so we’ll wait for him to meet you and decide how to shoot. You don’t mind waiting a few minutes, right?”

Yu Jing smiled politely: “I’m fine, I can wait however long.”

Ming Zhu’s expression was cool but agreeable: “Don’t mind.”

The chief editor thanked them, asking the assistant to take them to the makeup room to rest.

In the makeup room, the assistant brought snacks and drinks, gave a few instructions, and left.

Once alone, Zhou Qi said: “This Lü Han’s hard to book, has a weird temper, and loves to scold people.”

Xiao Ye gasped, muttering: “He scolds people?”

Ming Zhu seemed unbothered, glancing at Xiao Ye, her gaze shifting to Yu Jing, who was yawning. After a pause, she asked: “Have you been scolded shooting magazines before?”

Yu Jing, yawning with teary eyes, looked surprised, answering off-topic: “How’d you know I’ve shot magazines?”

Ming Zhu’s eyes flickered, pausing before saying: “Half a month ago, at the show’s promo shoot, the photographer praised you, and you said you’d done plenty of covers.”

Yu Jing thought hard and recalled it happening. She hadn’t expected Ming Zhu to remember such a casual remark, especially when their relationship wasn’t even good then.

Suppressing her surprise, she tugged her hair, returning to the topic: “Never been scolded, but my first shoot, as a newbie, people looked down on me. It wasn’t pleasant.”

Ming Zhu watched her eyes, wet with tears, her mind drifting to Yu Jing’s defeated look in the car.

Acting so nonchalant now, she must’ve felt awful then, right?

For some reason, seeing her fake strength made Ming Zhu’s calm heart ripple, as if a stone had been tossed in.

Before she could ponder the odd feeling, the makeup room door opened.

Lü Han arrived.

The genius photographer, a male Alpha under thirty, had shoulder-length hair and gold-rimmed glasses, his demeanor haughty. Surrounded by the chief editor and makeup artists, he strode to Yu Jing and Ming Zhu.

Lü Han was indeed odd. Before shooting, he had to thoroughly “inspect” his subjects, searching for standout traits.

He circled Yu Jing and Ming Zhu, his sharp eyes scanning them up and down, not missing a single hair, just looking, not speaking.

Yu Jing stood obediently, letting him look.

Ming Zhu stood straight, but his gaze, like he was sizing up animals, grated her. Her lips pursed, her brow furrowed.

Yu Jing glanced sideways, seeing Ming Zhu’s frown deepen, sensing her impatience.

Recalling Zhou Qi’s warning about Lü Han’s temper and tendency to scold, Yu Jing feared Ming Zhu might storm off. Her hand brushed Ming Zhu’s.

Ming Zhu looked over.

Yu Jing gave her a look, unsure if she understood.

Ming Zhu: “?”

“What’s this about?” Lü Han’s voice cut in abruptly.

Ming Zhu, still looking at Yu Jing, didn’t realize he was addressing her.

Yu Jing, anxious, nudged her again: “He’s talking to you.”

Ming Zhu slowly turned, facing the revered Lü Han expressionlessly, her tone cool: “What’d you say?”

Lü Han didn’t mind her curtness, pointing to a spot on the right side of her neck, repeating: “What’s that scar? Looks fresh. How’d it happen?”

Curious, Yu Jing leaned over, saw the spot he pointed to, and her heart skipped.

On Ming Zhu’s fair neck was a faint pink scar, like peach blossom petals—the mark Yu Jing left in her “dream”…

A scar was a private matter, but Lü Han asked seriously, not out of curiosity but with thoughtful scrutiny.

Ming Zhu, momentarily ignoring his unsettling gaze, touched the scar, her expression shifting as she recalled something. Her eyes met Yu Jing’s guilty look.

Yu Jing touched her nose nervously.

Ming Zhu raised a brow, looking at the flustered Yu Jing, and said slowly: “My cat at home bit me.”

Yu Jing’s face heated, and she quickly looked away.

…Since when did I become your cat?