Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha and Got Marked by the Enemy (ABO, GL) - Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Two people stood at the boundary between the escape room and the corridor. The light from the small room stretched their shadows long—one stood rigidly upright, the other rose on tiptoes to meet her.

The intimate distance heightened their senses. As they breathed, Ming Zhu caught the scent of vanilla cream in Yu Jing’s breath—warm, with a sweet allure that tempted one to sin.

The mischievous hand lingered near Ming Zhu’s lips, slowly stoking a fire within, sparking a blaze that burned away her reason in an instant.

At her limit, Ming Zhu’s taut body collapsed. Her graceful neck bent forward, her eyes narrowed, her gaze fell on Yu Jing’s slightly parted lips, and she leaned closer.

“Here—” A drawn-out sound broke the tender atmosphere.

A hand appeared between them, forcing Ming Zhu to halt.

Yu Jing’s fingers left Ming Zhu’s lips, showed the vanilla cream on her fingertip, her starry eyes bright, her small face tilted up, and said earnestly, “See, I wasn’t lying this time.”

Caught off guard, Ming Zhu looked down, saw the “dirt” on her fingertip, and froze.

Yu Jing had really just been wiping her mouth…

The cream must have gotten there when Yu Jing tried to feed her, smudged during their tussle. Ming Zhu hadn’t noticed.

Realizing she’d misunderstood, the intensity in Ming Zhu’s eyes faded, her heated heart cooled, as if waking from a dream.

Her face hid in the shadows, unreadable to Yu Jing, who felt the hand on her shoulder tighten instead of relax, growing anxious inside.

What now? What trick could make Ming Zhu let her guard down?

Before she could think of one, Ming Zhu suddenly released her.

Footsteps came from the corner. Ming Zhu turned to look.

Perfect chance!

Yu Jing slipped under Ming Zhu’s arm while she was distracted, hugged the chest tightly, and ran without waiting for a reaction.

Yu Jing dashed ten meters to the corner, nearly colliding with the cameraman catching up. She steadied herself against the wall, glanced back, and saw Ming Zhu hadn’t followed.

The tall figure stood still, out of place in the dilapidated surroundings—aloof, independent, with an indescribable loneliness.

Yu Jing didn’t know why she didn’t chase, felt uneasy leaving her there, brushed her messy bangs, and called, “If you don’t move, a ghost might actually come.”

It was dark, and at a distance, Yu Jing couldn’t see her expression or get any response.

After a silent stare for a few seconds, Ming Zhu moved.

Seeing her stir, Yu Jing worried she’d come to steal the chest, called the cameraman to hurry, and walked through the ruined corridor toward the exit.

[Give Ming Zhu a close-up, cameraman! Let me see what the dirt was.]

[Yu Jing probably wiped it off already.]

[Or licked it off.]

[With her tongue? Damn, you guys are wild!]

[As a dedicated CP fan, imagination is key. Think about it—why did Ming Zhu let Yu Jing go without stealing? Yu Jing must’ve done something to appease her!]

[That ‘sister’ was so sweet. Compared to Ming Zhu, Yu Jing’s like a little Omega, so good at acting cute.]

[No footage of eating ice cream or wiping faces. All the Ming-Yu moments this episode have no shots. So frustrating!]

Yu Jing ran ahead, Ming Zhu followed slowly, showing no intent to steal.

The corridor’s light flickered. Ming Zhu’s heart felt dim.

She’d rushed in worried, only to find the little rogue napping carefree. She pinched her face to wake her, no remorse shown, and Yu Jing tricked her with a ghost to escape.

In the escape room, Ming Zhu worked hard to solve the puzzle, but Yu Jing ate the ice cream without gratitude and tried to run again.

Time after time, Yu Jing drove Ming Zhu to lose her reason, nearly losing control earlier.

The “tap-tap-tap” of footsteps felt like stomps on her heart. Ming Zhu watched the figure vanish, a bitter pang rising within.

No seduction—just the little rogue’s tricks to win.

The commotion stirred the ghost NPCs, who thought new prey had arrived and pounced to scare, only to see Yu Jing and retreated.

This delicate-looking star was fearless, even chatting with them cheerfully—a real oddity.

Yu Jing and the cameraman moved smoothly toward the exit. Nearing it, she heard noisy voices outside, peeked through the curtain cautiously.

Chen Chen, Xiao Yihuan, and Liang Tian waited outside.

Chen Chen had shaken off his ghost-induced panic, his eyes darting between Xiao Yihuan and Liang Tian, stirring trouble. “Why are Ming Zhu and Brother Chao taking so long? Something wrong? You teammates aren’t worried? Go help!”

Xiao Yihuan was worried but too scared to go in, fearing she’d only cause trouble. She glared at Chen Chen and huffed, “Jingjing’s in there too. Why didn’t you go find her?”

Chen Chen, stubborn, argued, “It’s our strategy. You wouldn’t get it.”

“What strategy?” Liang Tian asked suspiciously.

“Don’t listen to him, Tian Tian,” Xiao Yihuan cut in. “Brother Chen’s just scared. Stop making excuses. When Jingjing comes out, I’ll tell her you got spooked and sold her out.”

“Don’t talk nonsense! When did I sell her out? I was…” Chen Chen trailed off.

As Chen Chen and Xiao Yihuan bickered, Liang Tian spotted movement at the entrance and nudged Xiao Yihuan. “Is someone coming out?”

The curtain lifted slightly. Xiao Yihuan glimpsed a figure. “White clothes, looks like a woman. Sister Ming Zhu, is that you?”

Yu Jing, behind the curtain, yanked the exposed cameraman back inside.

Hearing “Ming Zhu,” Liang Tian couldn’t hold back, ran over joyfully, and called, “Senior Sister… ah!”

The curtain parted, revealing a faceless, disheveled “female ghost.” Liang Tian clutched her fragile heart, her face pale.

The “ghost” brushed back her hair, showed a clean, pretty face, and grinned slyly. “Hi~”

Seeing it was Yu Jing pretending, Liang Tian gritted her teeth, spotted the chest, and lunged to grab it.

Yu Jing dodged nimbly and said to Chen Chen, “Brother Chen, let’s go!”

Chen Chen, thrilled she’d emerged, raised an eyebrow, pinched Xiao Yihuan’s cheek before leaving.

By the time Ming Zhu and Xie Haichao exited, the rogue team had vanished.

Xie Haichao slapped his thigh in frustration. “That damn ghost gave me the wrong path. I searched forever and saw no one. You were in there so long—didn’t find Jingjing either?”

The last question was for Ming Zhu.

Ming Zhu, expressionless, said, “No.”

[Ming Zhu, I misjudged you. Thought you were principled, but you’re lying outright.]

[She treated her to ice cream and still says no. So protective!]

[Ming Zhu: I’m serious about spoiling my wife.]

Xie Haichao and the others trusted Ming Zhu wouldn’t lie. With no chest stolen, the four kept searching.

The chase dragged on. In the second round, Xie Haichao’s team took the chest, but in the third, it returned to Yu Jing and Chen Chen. Liang Tian wanted to shine, but Ming Zhu reverted to her uninterested demeanor, leaving Liang Tian anxious.

Besides chasing the chest, the guests played the park’s rides. With Chen Chen’s lively presence, every segment had laughs.

As the sun dipped west, filming ended around 4 p.m. Xie Haichao and Xiao Yihuan won.

It was the earliest wrap in three episodes, also the most exhausting. Xiao Yihuan had no energy to bicker with Chen Chen, and Xie Haichao, finally winning, couldn’t muster the spirit to tease him.

Yang Ming arranged a big meal, but the tired guests just wanted to rest. Yang Ming didn’t push.

As they prepared to leave, Liang Tian seized the chance to add everyone’s WeChat. Finally, she asked Ming Zhu, “Senior Sister, can I add your WeChat?”

Ming Zhu saw no need. But Liang Tian timed it well, asking publicly when others had added each other, making refusal awkward. Ming Zhu let her scan her phone.

Gossip-loving Xiao Yihuan watched, whispered to Yu Jing, “Don’t you think Liang Tian likes Sister Ming Zhu?”

Yu Jing saw Liang Tian treasuring Ming Zhu’s WeChat, nodded in agreement.

Xiao Yihuan studied her face. “She’s hitting on your CP, and you’re so calm?”

What else could she do?

Though clueless about romance, Yu Jing wasn’t oblivious. She sensed Liang Tian’s eagerness to get close to Ming Zhu from the start, her looks carrying caution or hostility. Except for clueless Chen Chen, anyone with eyes could see Liang Tian’s feelings for Ming Zhu.

If even she, a romantic novice, could see it, how could Ming Zhu not?

Knowing and still adding her WeChat… maybe Ming Zhu was interested too.

After Liang Tian scanned, Ming Zhu pocketed her phone, glanced over casually.

Meeting her gaze, Yu Jing turned away, lowered her voice, and said to Xiao Yihuan—or herself—“Who she wants to flirt with has nothing to do with me.”

Bidding farewell, Yu Jing left the park with Xiao Ye, returning to her apartment.

Exhausted from a sleepless night and a day in the sun, Yu Jing showered and collapsed into bed.

She slept until dark, woke, lay in bed pondering life, and was roused by “ding-dong” notifications. She grabbed her phone and unlocked it.

The Treasure Hunt group chat was lively.

Chen Chen: “Congrats, Little Ze! I wasn’t bragging—told you you’d make it!”

Xiao Yihuan: “Congrats, congrats! You’re awesome, Little Ze!”

Xie Haichao: “Congrats.”

Scrolling up, Yu Jing found Peng Ze’s message: “Friends, I passed the audition!!!”

Her sleepy eyes curved. She typed, “Congrats, Little Ze!”

Peng Ze, ecstatic, sent several voice messages, eagerly sharing his audition. Finally, he said, “I’m back tomorrow. You all free? I want to treat everyone to dinner.”

Everyone said they were free.

Yu Jing remembered she owed them a meal, sat up, pressed the voice button, and said, “I’ll treat tomorrow. You helped promote my new song last time, and I haven’t thanked you all.”

Respecting first-come-first-serve, Peng Ze didn’t argue. “I’ll treat next time.”

Asked where to eat, everyone said anywhere. Yu Jing thought it shouldn’t be casual—artists dining together, to show gratitude, needed a quiet, upscale place.

Unfamiliar with planning, she consulted Xiao Ye, found a well-reviewed restaurant, and shared the address in the group. Everyone approved.

Xiao Ye opened a booking app, hesitated on the private room, and asked, “How many people?”

Yu Jing counted on her fingers. “Brother Chao, Brother Chen, Yihuan, Little Ze, Ming Zhu…”

She paused at Ming Zhu.

Xiao Ye looked at her. “Is Sister Ming Zhu coming?”

Yu Jing recalled Ming Zhu hadn’t responded in the group—missed it or uninterested?

She opened her phone, found the white cat avatar, saw their past chat, and felt a pang.

Yu Jing: “Thanks for before. I’ll treat you to dinner someday.”

MZ: “No need.”

That was just days ago.

She’d refused so clearly—why ask again?

Yu Jing wasn’t that shameless but, after thinking, sent a message.

Yu Jing: “I’m treating everyone to dinner tomorrow night. You coming?”

Expecting a long wait, Ming Zhu replied in seconds.

MZ: “Sure.”

Her quick agreement surprised Yu Jing.

She didn’t dwell on why Ming Zhu changed her mind. After Xiao Ye booked the room and time, she sent it to Ming Zhu.

MZ: “Got it.”

The dinner was set.

At dinnertime, Xiao Ye browsed takeout. Yu Jing, with no appetite, grabbed an apple, munched, and slumped on the sofa with her phone.

On Weibo, she saw #MingYuLiveNoFootage and #YuJingSoftGasp trending, her eyes widening.

The first was obvious, but soft gasp? What was that?

Forgetting to chew her apple, she clicked the topic with her name, jumped to a popular post with an audio file.

At the 10th second, a soft “mm” played. Her teeth crunched, nearly biting her tongue.

Xiao Ye glanced over oddly. “What weird stuff are you looking at?”

Yu Jing, blushing, closed the audio and mumbled, “Nothing.”

Thankfully, the cameraman hadn’t followed. If they’d filmed her and Ming Zhu on that bed… she’d never live it down.

CP fans tagged her, asking about the “soft gasp.” Yu Jing ignored them, exited Weibo hastily, and found another distraction.

Opening Moments, a new post calmed her racing heart for a second.

Liang Tian: “Senior Sister is so nice. She took care of me during filming, opened my yogurt, and sent me back after. So happy~ Looking forward to next time! [Photo]”

The photo showed Ming Zhu by a car window, hand on the frame, chin lifted, sunset glow softening her face.

From the angle, Liang Tian was likely beside her.

Yu Jing swallowed the sour apple, exited WeChat listlessly.

Rested, she went to the company the next day.

Thinking of the dinner, she danced harder, from morning to afternoon, pausing to rest.

Xiao Ye burst in. “Jingjing, big trouble!”

Used to her dramatics, Yu Jing asked casually, “What’s up?”

Xiao Ye: “Wu Dan Ni brought a lawyer to the company. She’s terminating her contract!”

…

When Yu Jing reached the meeting room, it was over peacefully.

The boss didn’t want Wu Dan Ni to leave—she was Light & Shadow’s top earner. But Wu Dan Ni came prepared with a lawyer, breach fees, and Zhang Xu’s influence.

Yu Jing saw Wu Dan Ni exit the meeting room grandly, surrounded by people, feeling a deep powerlessness.

From the moment Wu Dan Ni got with Zhang Xu, Yu Jing knew their small company couldn’t keep her. She just didn’t expect it so soon.

She wasn’t too upset by the outcome. Glancing at the exhausted Shen Jiayu behind Wu Dan Ni, she couldn’t say “best wishes.”

Wu Dan Ni paused, approached, and hugged her.

Yu Jing stood stiffly, raised her hands, then lowered them, not hugging back.

Wu Dan Ni let go, eyes red, and said with regret, “Jingjing, goodbye.”

Yu Jing pressed her lips, and as Wu Dan Ni turned to leave, whispered, “I hope you don’t regret it.”

Wu Dan Ni stiffened, maybe hearing, maybe not.

They passed each other.

Learning Wu Dan Ni was with Zhang Xu, Yu Jing felt angry and hurt. This time, she was calm, only stirred by Shen Jiayu’s heavy sigh.

“Our small temple can’t hold her big Buddha anymore,” Shen Jiayu said, watching Wu Dan Ni leave,无奈 and mocking. “Three years with her, and I didn’t know when she latched onto Zhang Xu. I’m a failure as a manager.”

Yu Jing felt bad. “Sister Jiayu, don’t say that.”

Shen Jiayu looked at her. “You were so close. Did she tell you?”

Yu Jing’s eyes flickered guiltily, and she nodded. “I knew after the first Treasure Hunt episode… I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be hurt.”

She despised those unspoken rules, but it was Wu Dan Ni’s privacy. Yu Jing couldn’t share. Plus, Wu Dan Ni had badmouthed Shen Jiayu, and she didn’t want her to know.

Shen Jiayu took seconds to process, her face serious, gripping Yu Jing’s hand. “Jingjing, promise me you won’t be like her.”

Yu Jing’s eyes were firm. “Sister Jiayu, I won’t.”

Xiao Ye muttered, “Her contract’s got two years left. That’s a lot of breach fees.”

Shen Jiayu snorted. “Zhang Xu’s got money. She’s leaving now for next month’s Youth Training Camp.”

Yu Jing was shocked. “Dan Ni’s joining Youth Training Camp?”

“Yeah,” Shen Jiayu said, seeing her wide eyes, sighing. “She wants to do girl groups, but our company can’t guarantee her debut. Her new agency’s contract includes that.”

Yu Jing froze.

“Jingjing, how long will you hide your presentation?” Shen Jiayu asked, worried.

Yu Jing opened her mouth, unable to answer.

Youth Training Camp was a popular female singing-dancing show, open only to female Betas and Omegas. Wu Dan Ni had secretly signed up.

No wonder at the birthday party, when Yu Jing asked about reforming their girl group, Wu Dan Ni dodged.

Yu Jing thought she was reluctant to leave acting. All lies.

Wu Dan Ni hadn’t given up her girl group dream—she just thought Yu Jing was an Alpha and abandoned her.

Yu Jing’s heart sank, and she gave a bitter smile.

So much for sisterly bonds—everything was expendable for fame and fortune.

Wu Dan Ni’s sudden exit caught Light & Shadow off guard. Her commercials and endorsements needed new contracts. Shen Jiayu was swamped, and Xiao Ye helped.

That evening, Yu Jing went to the dinner alone.

Without a license, she took a taxi. Wearing a mask, the driver didn’t recognize her. Even if he did, Yu Jing felt no joy.

The night wasn’t beautiful, dark like a vast net. A breeze blew, lights flickered on.

Yu Jing arrived first, led to the private room by a waiter, took her phone, and messaged the group.

Yu Jing: “Where are you guys?”

Everyone but Ming Zhu replied.

Was she ignoring the group again?

Yu Jing was about to message her privately when a “knock-knock-knock” came. She said, “Come in,” and kept typing.

“Looks like I’m not the last.”

Yu Jing looked up, saw a graceful figure in a champagne dress glowing under the light, and froze.

She’d thought it was a waiter, not Ming Zhu.

Yu Jing deleted the unfinished message, straightened her back. “You’re the first.”

Ming Zhu closed the door, walked over. “Why are you alone? Where’s Xiao Ye?”

“She’s busy,” Yu Jing said, switching her phone to her right hand, uneasy being alone with her.

Ming Zhu didn’t press, scanned the room, and asked, “Where do I sit?”

“Anywhere,” Yu Jing shrugged.

Ming Zhu pulled the chair to her left and sat.

“…”

With so many empty seats at the big table, Yu Jing didn’t get why she chose that one, but it was her own words, so she couldn’t backtrack. She feigned calm, looked down, and pretended to use her phone.

Ming Zhu sat silently.

Yu Jing, in no mood, ignored the awkwardness of being alone, her fingers swiping aimlessly on the screen.

Ming Zhu stole glances, noticed her distraction, and couldn’t hold back. “Something on your mind?”

Yu Jing’s long lashes trembled, she forced a casual tone. “No, just bored.”

Ming Zhu looked again. Yu Jing kept her head down, hiding her emotions well, revealing nothing.

Others arrived, dispelling the tension. Yu Jing called the waiter to order.

Before eating, Chen Chen raised his glass first, said loudly, “To Little Ze’s audition success—cheers!”

Except for Yu Jing and Ming Zhu, everyone brought assistants, but none hesitated to pour drinks.

Glasses clinked loudly.

The cool liquid slid down Yu Jing’s throat, refreshing. If not for her low tolerance, she’d have chugged a whole bottle.

After drinking, they sat.

All familiar, they ate and chatted, laughter easing Yu Jing’s gloom.

Near the end, Chen Chen, seeing her alone, asked, “Where do you live? I’ll drive you.”

Before Yu Jing could answer, Xiao Yihuan teased, “Jingjing’s got her CP. She doesn’t need you.”

Yu Jing’s hand tightened on her chopsticks, glanced at Ming Zhu, and met her gaze.

Ming Zhu’s eyes were soft, her lips parted slightly.

Yu Jing sensed she’d agree, her heart sank, and she cut in, “No need. My assistant’s coming.”

Ming Zhu’s gaze darkened.

Yu Jing looked down, messaged Xiao Ye. Noticing Ming Zhu still watching, she sipped her drink casually and said to Chen Chen, “Xiao Ye’s coming soon.”

It was also telling Ming Zhu: You don’t need to drive me.

Full and satisfied, it was late. Yu Jing saw them off at the door, returned to the room to wait for Xiao Ye, and found one person still there.

“Why haven’t you left?” she asked, surprised, looking at Ming Zhu. She wasn’t planning to drive her, was she?

Ming Zhu looked over calmly. “Waiting for someone.”

“Who?”

“Zhou Qi,” Ming Zhu said, touching an empty glass. “I drank. Can’t drive.”

Yu Jing realized it made sense, closed her mouth awkwardly.

She didn’t sit near Ming Zhu, chose a random seat.

After sitting, she noticed her phone was still on the table. As she stood to grab it, it rang.

Thinking it was Xiao Ye, she picked it up, saw “Mom” on the caller ID, and her dull eyes dimmed further.

Zhou Yuying rarely called, especially so late. Yu Jing wondered what was up.

She glanced at Ming Zhu.

Ming Zhu had turned aside politely.

To be safe, Yu Jing went to the room’s bathroom, locked the door, leaned against it, and answered, “Mom.”

“Jingjing,” Zhou Yuying’s gentle voice came through. “Have you eaten?”

Yu Jing: “Yeah. Just finished with friends.”

Zhou Yuying didn’t make small talk about the meal, hesitated, lowered her voice. “Your dad’s memorial is soon. Can you come back?”

Yu Jing, confused, checked the date on her phone, and felt a wave of realization.

A year already. Time flew.

She sighed, put the phone back to her ear. With filming done, she had a few free days. She thought and said, “I’ll come.”

“Good, good, good,” Zhou Yuying said, thrilled to see her after so long, the weight of her husband’s memorial lightening. “Tell me when you’re coming. I’ll prepare your room.”

Yu Jing mumbled, “Mm.”

“You…” Zhou Yuying started, but a loud “bang” cut her off, her voice sharp. “Xiao Jie!”

Yu Jing’s ears nearly burst. Hearing “clatter” sounds, fearing an accident, she gripped the phone, not hanging up.

Zhou Yuying set the phone down and ran off, but the night was quiet, her voice clear. “Oh, my baby, why so naughty!”

“Let Mommy see if you’re hurt.”

“There, there, Mommy will blow on it, and it won’t hurt.”

“Baby, go out for a bit. Mommy needs to talk to your sister, then I’ll read you a story, okay?”

“Hurry up,” a boy’s voice said rudely.

“Okay, okay, right away,” Zhou Yuying coaxed patiently.

After soothing Yu Jie, Zhou Yuying picked up the phone from the nightstand, saw the call had ended, guilt and conflict flashing across her face. She redialed.

The phone rang again. Yu Jing glanced at it, numbly rejected the call.

Zhou Yuying didn’t call back.

Yu Jing stayed in the bathroom a long time before leaving.

Ming Zhu was gone.

Had she left?

Good. Better if everyone left.

Yu Jing shuffled back to the table, zoned out, then grabbed the unfinished beer bottle.

Disappointment, sadness, anger—she felt stifled but had nowhere to vent.

Like self-punishment, she chugged the beer, drank too fast, choked, and coughed violently, clutching the empty bottle.

She wanted to cough out the negative emotions, but the more she coughed, the worse she felt, slumping on the table, exhausted.

“Why?” Her voice was hoarse, head buried in her arms, muttering to herself.

Why did everyone lie to her?

Why was she always the one abandoned when choices were made?

Lost in her world, her temples throbbed. Someone entered, but she didn’t hear.

Ming Zhu, holding her phone, saw Yu Jing slumped on the table, shoulders shaking, and hurried over. “Yu Jing?”

Yu Jing flinched, her sobs stopped, she looked up dazedly at Ming Zhu, who’d appeared from nowhere. “…Didn’t you leave?”

Ming Zhu didn’t answer, saw her red, teary eyes, froze, crouched to her level, and asked, “Why are you crying?”

Her cool fingers touched Yu Jing’s cheek. Yu Jing realized, ducked her head, and said, “Let me go.”

Ming Zhu didn’t, gently cupped her face with both hands.

Under the light, Yu Jing’s vulnerability was bare.

Her nose was red, eyes brimming with tears, but she bit her lip stubbornly, refusing to let them fall.

Ming Zhu’s heart felt crushed, leaned forward, and softly kissed her trembling eyelids.