Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha and Got Marked by the Enemy (ABO, GL) - Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Yu Jing’s mood swung like a giant pendulum clock. Ming Zhu’s sudden flirty words made her blush, and then a direct question caught her off guard.

“How long do you need to think?”

This was probably the toughest, most serious question Yu Jing faced in her nineteen years.

Back in school, with her striking looks, Yu Jing had received confessions before, but she didn’t want to date early, felt no interest in those immature boys, and always rejected them outright. She never encountered a situation requiring her to think it over.

So why didn’t she reject Ming Zhu right away last night???

“You have to ask yourself that,” Xiao Ye said, stuffing food into her mouth, lifting her eyelids, seeing Yu Jing’s confused frown, and saying clearly for once, “If you like her, say yes. If not, just say no. So, what do you feel about Sister Ming Zhu?”

Yu Jing realized she accidentally voiced her question…

She hadn’t figured out how to answer Ming Zhu’s question, and now Xiao Ye’s question stumped her. Her mind went blank for a moment, she opened her mouth, and after a long pause, squeezed out, “I don’t know.”

“Cough—” Xiao Ye choked on her food, quickly sipped some soy milk, and got dizzy from Yu Jing’s vague reply, asking, “What does ‘I don’t know’ mean???”

Yu Jing looked down, stared at the dimming phone screen, unconsciously swiped her finger on it, and said in a low voice, “I think I have some feelings for her.”

She tilted her head, gazed at the bright sun outside, and her expression drifted into memories, saying, “That night at Wu Dan Ni’s birthday party, after you left early, two female Alphas cornered and bullied me in the bathroom. Ming Zhu showed up just in time to save me. I thought then, this woman is so reliable, so safe.”

“Whether on the show or in private, I’ve had a lot of close physical contact with her. I don’t mind it, don’t reject it. On the contrary, she makes my heart race every time,” she added.

Xiao Ye listened eagerly, waved half a bun excitedly, interrupted, and asked, “Is it that heart-pounding, butterflies-in-your-stomach feeling?”

Yu Jing’s face warmed, she took a sip of milk to hide it, and mumbled, “Something like that…”

“That’s liking someone!” Xiao Ye declared firmly, saying, “You’re definitely smitten.”

Yu Jing licked the milk foam off her lips, her expression grew serious, she shook her head, and said, “Every time I get that subtle feeling, it’s when I smell her pheromones.”

Xiao Ye bit her chopsticks and asked, “What do pheromones have to do with it?”

Xiao Ye was a Beta, with no pheromones. Yu Jing wasn’t sure if she’d understand, paused, chose her words, and said simply, “The doctor said our genes are highly compatible, so much that sometimes her pheromones trigger a physical reaction in me…”

Xiao Ye covered her mouth, exclaimed “Wow” in surprise.

Wow, my foot…

Yu Jing touched her hair, fought her embarrassment, and said, “I can’t tell if my feelings for her are genuine or just her pheromones affecting me.”

Alphas and Omegas were inherently unequal genetically. Alpha pheromones could control and influence Omegas. Though Yu Jing had never dated, she wanted a mutual, heartfelt relationship, not just a physical attraction driven by pheromones, instinctively wanting to submit to the other.

She couldn’t distinguish if her feelings for Ming Zhu were emotional or physical, so she hesitated.

In the spacious hotel suite, the panoramic windows stood wide open, sunlight poured in, illuminating a tall figure by the window.

A white silk camisole dress hugged a perfectly curved figure, straight black hair covered a tense profile, thick lashes couldn’t hide the dark circles under her eyes, and amber eyes flickered with anxiety.

Ming Zhu hadn’t slept at all, draped in exhaustion. She leaned one shoulder against the glass, a thin strap slipped down unnoticed, her spine curved, holding this pose for nearly ten minutes.

She stared intently at the chat window.

The question she sent sank like a stone in the sea, stirring faint unease in her heart.

This time, she might have been too reckless.

In the haunted house, Ming Zhu finally realized her unusual feelings for Yu Jing. She hadn’t planned how to handle it, logic told her to hide it, observe carefully. But last night, Yu Jing’s tear broke the rules, leading her to the most irrational act of her life.

Kissing Yu Jing, confessing to her—it all felt so natural. Only when she calmed down did Ming Zhu realize that if rejected, they might not even stay friends.

Yu Jing promised to think it over last night, but would she forget or back out after waking up?

She was a little rascal, after all.

The exposed shoulder burned under the sun. Ming Zhu slowly blinked her sore eyes, her fingers lightly touched the keyboard, but clumsily couldn’t type a word.

She desperately wanted an answer but feared annoying Yu Jing by pushing.

Years ago, her first group audition didn’t make her this nervous. Now, for one answer, Ming Zhu’s palms sweated layer after layer, soaking and warming her phone case. She didn’t wipe it, afraid to miss a message in a blink.

“Buzz,” her tightly gripped phone vibrated.

A new message appeared, but Ming Zhu closed her eyes.

She suddenly felt timid, scared to see an unwanted answer.

But anticipation outweighed fear.

Taking a deep breath of thin air, Ming Zhu slowly opened her eyes, held the phone up, and read the text.

Yu Jing: “After the next shoot”

No punctuation, a seemingly random reply, yet it relaxed Ming Zhu’s tense nerves, a faint smile curved her lips.

MZ: “Okay.”

They likely wouldn’t see each other for days, giving Yu Jing time to sort out their relationship.

Though she wasn’t sure if she’d figure it out by then, Yu Jing knew she had to give Ming Zhu a clear answer.

There was so much takeout left. Yu Jing felt it was wasteful, wanted to tell Ming Zhu not to order so much next time, opened the chat, and saw “Your waist is so slim I could hold it with one hand,” her heart skipped a beat.

While Xiao Ye put the uneaten takeout in the fridge, Yu Jing secretly lifted her shirt to check her waist.

At 168 cm tall, with delicate bones, her waist measured only 51 cm—indeed slim. Though measured with a tape, she didn’t expect Ming Zhu to describe it so ambiguously as “not enough for one hand to hold…”

She realized she understood Ming Zhu less and less. The once aloof woman, who barely spoke, turned frivolous overnight.

“Want to bring a couple of boxes to the company?” Xiao Ye asked.

Xiao Ye’s words smoothed the ripples in Yu Jing’s heart. She tugged her clothes, glanced at the takeout boxes in Xiao Ye’s hands, and said calmly, “Sure.”

No matter what, without schedules, Yu Jing insisted on practicing dance at the company daily.

Light & Shadow was a small company with fewer than a hundred people, but its front desk was grand, with corporate culture and rules posted on the left and a photo wall on the right, displaying large posters of its dozen artists.

The center spot was reserved for the company’s biggest star. It used to feature Wu Dan Ni, now a stark white patch stood out awkwardly among the colorful posters.

Xiao Ye saw Yu Jing staring at the blank spot for a long time, whispered in her ear, “That spot will definitely be yours someday.”

Yu Jing didn’t respond, gave a mocking laugh, shifted her gaze, and walked heavily down the corridor.

She kept waiting for a reasonable explanation from Wu Dan Ni, even a lie would do, but a day and night passed, and Wu Dan Ni never contacted her.

The last shred of hope for their friendship washed away with that half bottle of beer and dried tears, leaving only ashes.

Yu Jing didn’t head straight to the practice room as usual. On the way, Shen Jiayu messaged her to stop by the office.

“Knock, knock, knock—”

“Come in,” Shen Jiayu said.

Yu Jing pushed the door, didn’t see anyone at first, and called out, “Sister Jiayu?”

“I’m here,” Shen Jiayu said, her head popping up from behind the desk, standing while holding her waist, her expression slightly pained.

Yu Jing hurried to support her, asking, “Are you okay?”

Shen Jiayu sank into her chair, waved it off, pointed to the opposite chair, and said, “Sit.”

Yu Jing sat as told, didn’t wait for her to speak, noticed two documents on the desk, and blurted out, “You signed Zhao Meng and Yu Qian for ‘Youth Training Camp’?”

Shen Jiayu, rubbing her lower back, paused, straightened up, didn’t mind Yu Jing seeing the documents, thought for a moment, and said, “They’ve been with the company two years, unnoticed, with no resources. After Wu Dan Ni’s early contract termination, many artists here are restless. The boss fears losing veterans, so he asked me to take them out for some exposure.”

Xiao Ye leaned over, looked, and said suspiciously, “Aren’t Zhao Meng and Yu Qian actors? Do they know how to sing or dance?”

This was exactly Shen Jiayu’s worry. She pinched her brow, sighed heavily, and said, “Zhao Meng’s tone-deaf, Yu Qian can’t even do a split.”

Xiao Ye gasped, asking, “Can they pass the audition then?”

Shen Jiayu said jokingly, “If the judges are deaf and blind, maybe they have a shot.”

Xiao Ye: “…”

Zhao Meng and Yu Qian, both female Omegas under Shen Jiayu, had average looks and bad luck, playing minor roles for two years, faring worse than Yu Jing. They knew they weren’t suited for singing or dancing but wanted to try their luck.

Yu Jing stared intensely at the words ‘Youth Training Camp’ on the documents, as if trying to make them bloom.

Shen Jiayu looked at her meaningfully and said, “If it were you, you’d have a good chance.”

Yu Jing looked up, met Shen Jiayu’s expectant yet serious gaze, and her heart tightened.

Shen Jiayu looked into her eyes, said earnestly, “Jingjing, you’ve trained hard for three years. The opportunity is right here. Don’t you want to try?”

Yu Jing’s throat caught, almost instinctively said, “Yes.”

Shen Jiayu’s eyes lit up, as if prepared, opened a drawer, pulled out a blank application form, handed it to her, took a pen from the holder, placed it in her hand, and said encouragingly, “Fill it out. I’ll submit it with the others.”

Like a puppet, Yu Jing lifted the pen, neatly wrote her name in the designated field. When she reached the gender section, she snapped awake.

The pen left an ugly black dot on the paper. Yu Jing dropped it with a “snap,” sat upright, shook her head firmly, and said, “I don’t want to.”

Shen Jiayu seemed to expect this reaction, caught the rolling pen, glanced at Yu Jing’s clenched fist on the form, and said sharply, “Are you still unwilling to reveal your differentiation?”

Yu Jing’s throat tightened, she mumbled, “Yeah.”

‘Youth Training Camp’ was a female-oriented singing and dancing show, open only to female Betas and Omegas. To join, Yu Jing would have to reveal she’d differentiated into an Omega. She held a girl group dream for three years, never giving up, but at the final step, she hesitated.

“Why?” Shen Jiayu clutched the form, puzzled by her secrecy, asking, “You said before it was to compete with Ming Zhu, but haven’t you cleared that misunderstanding? Why hide it now?”

Yu Jing’s nails dug into her palm, her head bowed low, after a long pause, she dryly said, “I’m scared.”

Shen Jiayu froze, grabbed her thin shoulders, softened her tone, and asked, “Are you afraid of Zhang Xu?”

Yu Jing nodded, then shook her head, said chaotically, “It’s not about others. It’s my own issue.”

When she first differentiated, Yu Jing hid it to rival Ming Zhu. Later, she worried about harassment from people like Zhang Xu. But deep down, she just didn’t want to admit she’d become weaker.

Before differentiating, Yu Jing was confident, full of energy, could dance all day without tiring. Since differentiating, she felt her body grow frail. She feared others knowing she’d weakened, refused to accept it, wanted to deceive herself.

Shen Jiayu saw her expression, slowly guessed the real reason, felt both pity and frustration, and said, “But hiding like this won’t work. While you’re still not famous, revealing the truth proactively is best. If you get famous and someone exposes it, your career will be over, you know that!”

Yu Jing understood the logic but couldn’t convince herself. She spread her fingers, pushed the form away, didn’t dare look at Shen Jiayu’s face, kept her head down like admitting fault, and said, “Sister Jiayu, I’m sorry.”

This was a rejection.

Shen Jiayu, who’d managed her for three years, knew her well—obedient on the surface, stubborn inside. Too tired to persuade, Shen Jiayu placed the form in her hand, gripped it firmly, and said seriously, “Registration closes mid-next month. Think it over.”

Yu Jing looked at the form with only her name, felt its heavy weight.

Why was everyone making her think?

Her head spun, she tossed the form to Xiao Ye like escaping, stood up, bowed slightly to Shen Jiayu, who was chugging coffee, and said, “I’ll go practice dance now.”

Shen Jiayu, too exhausted to talk, waved her out.

Yu Jing turned.

“Wait,” Shen Jiayu called suddenly, saying, “The ‘Treasure Hunt’ crew is heading to A City for ‘Happy Star’. Don’t practice too hard today. Save energy for tomorrow’s trip.”

Yu Jing seemed to mishear, asked, “Tomorrow?”

“Nine a.m. flight,” Shen Jiayu said in a businesslike tone, looked up, saw her odd expression, and asked, “Problem?”

“…No. Got it,” Yu Jing said, forced a smile, and left worriedly.

She thought she’d see Ming Zhu in five or seven days, not expecting the meeting to come so soon.

But maybe not. Ming Zhu said she hated variety shows. Maybe she’d skip this one?

Recalling Ming Zhu’s words during the confession, Yu Jing grew unsure. Ming Zhu agreed to a couple’s shoot for her—would she go to A City to see her?

The more she thought, the messier her mind got. On the way to the practice room, Yu Jing secretly messaged Sister Xiao Ya, the artist coordinator, and asked indirectly, “Are all six of us going?”

Sister Xiao Ya: “Yes! Nine a.m. tomorrow, don’t forget.”

With a definite answer, Yu Jing’s heart grew messier.

She’d see Ming Zhu soon—what now?

She barely slept that night from worry.

The next day, Xiao Ye woke her before dawn. Yu Jing yawned, brushed her teeth, washed her face, ate a quick breakfast, went to her room, used foundation and concealer to hide her poor complexion. Feeling it wasn’t enough, she put on a huge mask and sunglasses before leaving.

Xiao Ye, stunned by her fully armed look, said, “Even top stars don’t dress this dramatically. Are you afraid of fans recognizing you?”

No, she just feared awkwardness with Ming Zhu.

Yu Jing said calmly, “It’s for sun protection.”

Xiao Ye, simple-minded and unable to see her expression, believed her.

They left early, avoided traffic, and reached the airport in half an hour. Yu Jing stayed anxious, kept wondering what to say to Ming Zhu when they met.

After much thought, she gave up.

Why say anything? Her throat still hurt—she could use that as an excuse to talk less.

Fearing an early encounter with Ming Zhu alone, Yu Jing checked with the others in the group chat, learned Chen Chen, Xiao Yihuan, and Xie Haichao were there, and got out of the car relieved.

She went to the VIP lounge to meet Chen Chen and the others, deliberately ignored a silent figure in the corner, waved, and greeted everyone, “You’re here so early.”

Her peripheral vision caught the figure in the corner move. Yu Jing tensed instantly. She pretended not to see Ming Zhu, but Ming Zhu’s direct gaze was hard to ignore. Luckily, her sunglasses and mask hid her emotions well.

“Jingjing, what’s with your throat?” Xiao Yihuan came over, looked at her, and asked, “Why are you covered up like this? Are you sick?”

Yu Jing pushed up her sunglasses, used the same excuse as with Xiao Ye. As for her throat, she couldn’t say she cried it hoarse, so she lied, saying it was inflammation.

“Oh,” Xiao Yihuan, easily fooled, said, “It’s really sunny today.”

Chen Chen chimed in, “No sun in here. We’re boarding soon. Why wear that? It hides your beauty.”

As he spoke, Chen Chen swiftly removed her sunglasses and mask, exposing her striking features to everyone.

Her vision cleared, breathing eased, Yu Jing gritted her teeth inwardly, felt an urge to tackle Chen Chen and beat him up.

Chen Chen studied her face, joked, “Look at that face, too pretty! If you weren’t an Alpha, I’d chase you myself.”

The word “Alpha” made Yu Jing feel guilty. Too flustered to stay mad, she turned away, instinctively glanced in a certain direction.

Ming Zhu walked over, deliberately or not, stood between her and Chen Chen, gave Chen Chen an unfriendly look, frowned, and said coldly, “Don’t hit on her.”

Chen Chen, unaware Yu Jing was an Omega, saw Ming Zhu’s protective stance, sensed her sudden hostility, but didn’t get mad, grinned, and said, “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re the Ming-Jing CP. Jingjing’s yours, I won’t steal her.”

“Brother Chen, don’t say that anymore,” Yu Jing said. She never minded their jokes before, but now, knowing Ming Zhu’s feelings, the teasing felt too flirty. Eager to clarify, she mumbled, “I’m not planning to form a CP with anyone.”

The CP wasn’t the issue. The phrase “Jingjing’s yours” rattled her heart.

She didn’t dare check Ming Zhu’s reaction, only knew Ming Zhu kept looking at her.

Chen Chen wasn’t clueless, saw her serious expression, saw Ming Zhu’s unreadable face, laughed it off, and moved on.

Peng Ze arrived last.

Having missed a shoot for an audition, Peng Ze hadn’t seen everyone in a while. They missed him, especially Chen Chen, who excitedly lifted him off the ground, making the shy Peng Ze blush.

The group crowded around Peng Ze, chatting warmly. Yu Jing, distracted, noticed Ming Zhu quietly leave, her smile faded.

She didn’t see Ming Zhu return until boarding. Curious where she went, Yu Jing wouldn’t ask.

The crew booked business class for the six artists. After boarding, Yu Jing realized her seat was right next to Ming Zhu’s…

She thought it impossible, wanted to swap seats, but a cool hand grabbed her wrist.

Without turning, just by the familiar touch, Yu Jing knew who it was.

But she couldn’t help turning.

Meeting Ming Zhu’s affectionate gaze, Yu Jing’s heart skipped, feeling caught doing something wrong, futilely tugged her wrist, and asked knowingly, “What?”

Other passengers were finding seats and stowing luggage, flight attendants moved through the aisle helping, the plane hadn’t taken off, and the cabin was noisy.

Ming Zhu held her wrist tightly, skillfully without hurting, leaned close, and said, “You said you wouldn’t avoid me.”

Her voice, usually distant and cool, carried an unclear hint of grievance, her gaze direct but not aggressive, more pleading.

Yu Jing’s breathing faltered under her stare. Seeing a flight attendant approach, she glared at Ming Zhu, said urgently, “Fine, I won’t swap.”

Ming Zhu looked deeply at her, only let go when the flight attendant turned their way.

“Ladies,” the attendant, unable to recognize them behind masks, bowed slightly, smiled sweetly, and said, “The plane’s about to take off. Please fasten your seatbelts.”

With her seatbelt on, Yu Jing couldn’t fuss about swapping anymore. She resignedly closed her eyes, tried to nap to calm herself, but with her eyes shut, her other senses sharpened.

She smelled Ming Zhu’s faint cold fragrance, heard a rustling like tearing open a package.

Ming Zhu kept moving. Yu Jing didn’t know what she was doing, tried to act indifferent.

Until the cold fragrance drew closer.

Yu Jing’s eyes snapped open, saw Ming Zhu leaning toward her, instinctively wanted to dodge, but a gentle hand held the back of her head.

Her body tensed, she didn’t dare move.

They were on a plane with four colleagues nearby. Was Ming Zhu already unable to resist touching her???

In a split second, Yu Jing sweated, her face flushed, tried to move Ming Zhu’s hand.

Ming Zhu’s other hand reached to pull her mask.

Yu Jing gasped, eyes widened, said, “You… mmph?”

As she opened her mouth, Ming Zhu slipped something in.

Yu Jing reflexively closed her mouth, felt a cool sensation between her lips and teeth.

Her tongue touched the hard object, tasted a hint of sweetness, realized it was a candy.

She looked at Ming Zhu in surprise, saw the wrapper in her hand, read the text, and went silent.

It wasn’t just candy—it was a throat lozenge.

The cool mint eased her throat’s discomfort. Yu Jing’s gaze lifted, met Ming Zhu’s eyes, paused silently, found her voice, and asked, “When did you buy this?”

Ming Zhu looked at her calmly, her voice full of warmth, saying, “Before boarding.”

Yu Jing understood!

Ming Zhu had slipped out of the VIP lounge earlier to buy her throat lozenges.

Because Yu Jing casually lied about inflammation, Ming Zhu took it to heart.

Others only offered verbal concern, but Ming Zhu acted.

Yu Jing felt a surge of indescribable emotions, drowning out her panic and awkwardness.

Ming Zhu’s hand gently pressed her fluffy head, moved forward to help put her mask back, saw her holding the lozenge in her mouth, and asked softly, “Does it taste bad?”

Yu Jing rolled her tongue, pressed the lozenge against her palate, met Ming Zhu’s concerned gaze, and shook her head dazedly.

Not bad at all.

It might be the sweetest throat lozenge she’d ever tasted.