Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha and Got Marked by the Enemy (ABO, GL) - Chapter 55

Chapter 55

Facing Ming Zhu’s blatant hint, Yu Jing’s eyes ached from staring, her phone grew hot in her grip, but she still couldn’t figure out how to respond.

She promised Ming Zhu she’d think it over carefully, but her thoughts were a tangled mess.

She wasn’t without feelings for Ming Zhu, but fondness didn’t equal love. She still couldn’t confirm if her feelings were genuine or just pheromones at work, unsure how long they’d last.

Ming Zhu’s attitude was clear, and she cared for her so earnestly.

But the more earnest Ming Zhu was, the more Yu Jing feared.

She worried her feelings were fleeting, that agreeing rashly would betray Ming Zhu’s deep affection.

Upbeat music blared from the speakers, the “thump-thump-thump” of the drums pounding her heart, throwing its rhythm into chaos.

Yu Jing took a deep breath, her fingertips struggled to the keyboard.

Before typing a single word, the screen flashed—Ming Zhu withdrew the previous message and sent a new one.

MZ: “I’ll wait for you.”

Yu Jing looked up in surprise, met Ming Zhu’s calm gaze in the rearview mirror.

Ming Zhu’s narrow eyes curved slightly, her amber eyes glowed with gentle light—warm, accepting, patient. She gave a hint but didn’t pressure her.

Everything was perfectly balanced.

Yu Jing’s racing heart slowed under her soothing gaze, her grip on the phone loosened, she lowered her eyes, clenched her jaw, crunched the half-melted throat lozenge, chewed it slowly, and swallowed.

The strong mint calmed her. She reread those three words, didn’t reply to Ming Zhu.

Ming Zhu didn’t send more strange screenshots.

Both guarded their private thoughts, silent the whole way.

The driver took them to the hotel first.

It was the same hotel as their first ‘Treasure Hunt’ shoot. Stepping into the spacious, cool lobby, seeing the familiar facade, Yu Jing felt like she’d returned to the starting point.

The TV station pre-booked rooms, reportedly twin suites. Yu Jing instinctively glanced at Ming Zhu beside her.

Ming Zhu looked down at her, leaned close, and whispered, “Afraid of sharing a room with me?”

Yu Jing pouted, didn’t answer, but the flicker in her eyes betrayed her worry.

Twice, staff paired them for seats; sharing a room wouldn’t be surprising.

But Yu Jing overthought it. The suites were for artists and their assistants.

It was mealtime. The staff ordered lunch, and the group returned to their rooms to drop off luggage.

Not wanting to keep others waiting, Yu Jing left her suitcase by the wall, opened the door to head downstairs for food.

“Oh my God!” A sudden shriek.

Yu Jing turned, saw Xiao Ye clutching her phone dramatically, held her fragile heart, and said exasperatedly, “What now?”

Xiao Ye’s face was shocked, she looked up, said rapidly, “Sister Ming Zhu liked a CP fan’s comment about you two, fans noticed, and it’s trending!”

Yu Jing’s hand slipped off the doorknob, she grabbed Xiao Ye’s phone, saw the fifth trending topic “#MingZhuLikesMingJingSZD#,” and froze.

Clicking it, she saw a related viral Weibo post.

Yu Jing didn’t read the post closely, clicked the attached screenshot, and gasped.

The screenshot was proof “IAmMingZhu” liked a post: “CPObsessed: Ming-Jing must be SZD!”

In just half an hour, the post had over 30,000 reposts and comments.

[I knew there was something between them!!!]

[As a Boiled Fish, I can die happy. Finally, I can shout: My CP is real!]

[No more words, wishing you a lifetime of happiness.]

[Ming Zhu liked it, Yu Jing, where are you? @YuJing]

[The liked comment’s from the Ming-Jing super topic, so Ming Zhu checks her own CP topic? Self-shipping? LOL, the aloof goddess is secretly a flirt 2333]

[Official like, Ming Zhu, you’re epic, straight-up wow.]

[Is this a confirmed double-Alpha romance? Next, an official announcement?]

[Weibo coders, brace yourselves, don’t crash!]

[Silly fish, it’s just a like, why the hype? Probably just hype.]

[So many double-Alpha couples in the industry, none dare go public. Who’d be so bold, risking their career?]

[It’s just hype. Heard ‘Treasure Hunt’ is filming ‘Happy Star’, always pushing Ming-Jing CP for attention, same old trick.]

The comments were varied. Though unrelated, Yu Jing, dragged into it, felt confused.

Hype wasn’t real, but she couldn’t fathom Ming Zhu’s bold move.

She hadn’t decided, hadn’t agreed to Ming Zhu—why did Ming Zhu like “Ming-Jing SZD,” a comment bound to cause misunderstandings???

Noise came from the opposite door, it opened, two figures stepped out.

Hearing the sound, Yu Jing reflexively looked, saw Ming Zhu leading, got mad, clutched Xiao Ye’s phone, stomped over, and demanded, “What are you doing?”

Ming Zhu was stumped, said, “…What?”

Yu Jing thought she was playing dumb, gritted her teeth, lowered her voice, and said, “If you’re browsing Weibo, fine, but why like random stuff?!”

Like what? Ming Zhu looked clueless, saw Yu Jing’s flushed face, blinked innocently, and said, “I didn’t.”

“Then who did?” Yu Jing shoved the phone screen at her, scrolled to the viral post, pointed at the screenshot of her “crime,” huffed, “Don’t tell me your account was hacked.”

Ming Zhu’s gaze landed on the screen, saw the screenshot, her pale pupils widened, her expression shifted from confusion to shock, then to guilty embarrassment.

The evidence was clear—she’d done something she shouldn’t have. But she genuinely didn’t recall liking the comment…

Her gaze wavered, looked at the fuming Yu Jing, coughed to cover, and said softly, “I didn’t mean to like it. Maybe my hand slipped while scrolling.”

Hand slip? Yu Jing’s expression froze, then it clicked.

Such a simple, reasonable excuse—she hadn’t thought of it!

Ming Zhu studied her face, explained further, “I saw that comment, didn’t understand the three letters, wanted to check if later comments explained it, probably accidentally liked it then.”

Who hasn’t slipped on Weibo?

Yu Jing’s heated mind cooled, understood the situation, felt super embarrassed, scratched her hot face with short nails, said unnaturally, “So that’s it…”

Ming Zhu was patient, said, “Yeah.”

During their standoff, Zhou Qi logged into Ming Zhu’s Weibo on her phone, saw the like, laughed and cried, walked over, and said, “Easy fix. Ming Zhu, post a Weibo to clarify.”

Ming Zhu took Zhou Qi’s phone, typed quickly.

Standing close, Yu Jing saw her type “Hand slipped, liked by mistake,” hit send, and her tense heart settled.

After posting, Ming Zhu didn’t check fan or netizen reactions, looked down at the girl, and asked, “Still mad?”

Yu Jing had no face to stay mad, her lips quivered, she said, “My tone was bad earlier, sorry.”

Ming Zhu didn’t mind her tone, seemed puzzled by something, frowned, thought, and asked seriously, “Ming-Jing SZD, what does it mean?”

Yu Jing wasn’t big on Weibo but knew some fan slang. Seeing Ming Zhu’s earnest question, she straightened up, explained seriously, “Ming-Jing SZD means Ming-Jing is real. Got it?”

Ming Zhu’s lips curved into a slight smile, her gaze softened, she parted her lips, and said in a clear, satisfied voice, “Got it. Ming-Jing is real.”

“…” Yu Jing felt tricked, blushed, pushed her away, returned the phone to Xiao Ye, and walked off.

Ming Zhu watched the girl’s near-fleeing figure, her smile grew.

Why was she still so easy to tease?

Ming Zhu didn’t rush after her, followed slowly, her gaze never leaving that figure, like she couldn’t get enough.

Zhou Qi, watching Ming Zhu secretly, found it weird.

As Ming Zhu’s manager for two years, Zhou Qi never saw her get close to anyone—Yu Jing was an exception. She noticed Ming Zhu smiled more lately, especially around Yu Jing. This untouchable flower became vibrant.

Zhou Qi liked the change but felt something was off, glanced at Yu Jing disappearing ahead, then at her artist whose eyes were glued to her, hesitated, and said, “Was it really a hand slip?”

Ten meters ahead, Yu Jing pulled Xiao Ye into the elevator, left without waiting.

With nothing to see, Ming Zhu reluctantly looked back, her face blank, said calmly to her manager, “What else?”

Zhou Qi thought the favoritism was blatant, her mood flipped faster than a book, gave an awkward smile, and said, “As long as it wasn’t on purpose.” But given Ming Zhu’s increasingly flirty behavior with Yu Jing, as her manager, Zhou Qi thought, then whispered, “If you really want to help her, hyping the CP lightly is fine, but don’t let it become real… You’re both Alphas.”

Ming Zhu gave her an ambiguous look, didn’t confirm or deny.

Zhou Qi didn’t know Yu Jing was an Omega. Ming Zhu’s lips moved, about to explain, then decided against it.

She hadn’t won her yet—saying it was pointless.

When Yu Jing reached the private dining room, Chen Chen and the others were already there.

They knew about Ming Zhu’s accidental like, teased Yu Jing relentlessly, making her helpless. Luckily, they didn’t know she’d differentiated, so they treated it as a joke.

Soon, Ming Zhu and Zhou Qi arrived.

Maybe because Ming Zhu seemed too aloof usually, no one dared tease her. Yu Jing deliberately avoided looking at her.

Ming Zhu noticed Yu Jing right away, saw her quietly keeping her head down, glanced at Xiao Yihuan and Peng Ze beside her.

Xiao Yihuan got the hint, stood, and said with a grin, “Sister Ming Zhu, sit here.”

Ming Zhu wanted to, but thought if she sat there, the thin-skinned girl might not eat comfortably. She declined Xiao Yihuan’s offer, saying, “Thanks, I’m good.”

Yu Jing, sipping a drink, sneaked a glance, saw Ming Zhu casually take a seat elsewhere.

After eating, they rushed to the TV station.

‘Happy Star’ was a highly interactive show with great ratings, recording at 7 p.m., starting with an opening performance, usually guests showcasing talents.

The director had surveyed the six—two singers, three actors, one variety star. Yu Jing, Xiao Yihuan, and Chen Chen could sing, so the opening was set as singing, with groups assigned: “Teacher Xie Haichao and Teacher Xiao Yihuan, Teacher Chen Chen and Teacher Peng Ze, Teacher Yu Jing and Teacher Ming Zhu.”

Used to being paired with Ming Zhu, Yu Jing only reacted when she heard singing, looked at Ming Zhu, and asked the director, “Duet?”

“You can duet or have one sing and the other perform another talent,” the director said, looking embarrassed, “But I’m not sure what talents the other three have?”

Xie Haichao ran a hand through his hair, said unconfidently, “I learned some ballroom dancing in college, nothing else.”

The director said exaggeratedly, “That’s a talent! Brother Chao, you’re amazing!”

Xie Haichao chuckled, teased Xiao Yihuan, “Our father-daughter duo will dance ballroom then.”

Xiao Yihuan nodded eagerly, “Sure, sure!”

“What about you, Xiao Ze?” Chen Chen asked, arm on Peng Ze’s shoulder.

Peng Ze looked uneasy, said softly, “I can’t sing or dance… I only act.”

The director said, “No problem. We can create a story based on the song’s mood. Teacher Peng Ze acts, Teacher Chen Chen sings.”

Chen Chen patted Peng Ze’s shoulder encouragingly, “Good idea!”

Peng Ze smiled shyly, said, “Okay, I’ll act.”

The director finally asked the silent Ming Zhu, “Teacher Ming Zhu, what talent can you share?”

All eyes turned to Ming Zhu.

Yu Jing’s eyes held five parts curiosity, five parts anticipation, wondering what talents Ming Zhu had, excited for what their collaboration might spark.

Among the six, Ming Zhu was the most mysterious. Usually low-key, avoiding variety shows, barely active on Weibo, aloof, seeming uninterested in everything. So when she casually said, “I can play the piano,” everyone froze.

Ming Zhu scanned the room, saw a piano by the stage, walked over.

Yu Jing’s gaze followed her, saw her head to the piano, sit with perfect posture, raise her arm, spread her slender fingers, and test a few keys.

Then, a beautiful, flowing melody poured from Ming Zhu’s fingertips, filling the studio.

“This sounds familiar,” Xiao Yihuan tilted her head, listened, felt it was familiar, had a flash, nudged the stunned Yu Jing, and said, “Is that your ‘To the Sun’?”

Yu Jing stared at Ming Zhu’s captivating back, nodded dazedly, said, “It’s ‘To the Sun’.”

Her uplifting single ‘To the Sun’ started with a lively piano intro, exactly what Ming Zhu played.

Ming Zhu played for ten seconds, stopped, turned, saw everyone staring dumbfounded, felt uneasy.

Her gaze swept the crowd, landed on Yu Jing’s stunned face, asked uncertainly, “Is this good enough to perform?”

She asked Yu Jing. Before Yu Jing responded, the director rushed over, said excitedly, “Absolutely! Teacher Ming Zhu, you play so well!”

“Whoa!” Xie Haichao said, “Nice, Ming Zhu, didn’t know you had that skill.”

Ming Zhu smiled silently.

With all talents confirmed, after discussion, the six moved backstage, split into three groups in separate rooms to practice.

Since Ming Zhu played Yu Jing’s song and they were paired, they chose ‘To the Sun’ for their performance.

Staff led them to a piano room, left sheet music, and let them practice.

Once the door closed, the large piano room held just the two of them.

Yu Jing watched Ming Zhu set up the sheet music, hurried after her like a tail, and asked, “You studied piano before?”

Rarely curious about her, Ming Zhu smiled, said, “Yeah.”

“How long?” Yu Jing couldn’t gauge her skill from the short segment.

Ming Zhu pulled a tissue from her pocket, was about to wipe the stool, paused, and said, “Since I can remember, but I stopped for a while, picked it up later… I can’t say exactly how long.”

Since she could remember? That’s really young.

Yu Jing leaned on the piano lid, eyes darting like a curious child, asked, “Did your family make you learn, or did you want to?”

Ming Zhu froze, her expression blanked, as if recalling something, her lashes blinked slowly, she looked down, hid a faint trace of sadness, and said indirectly, “My mom was a piano teacher.”

Yu Jing half-understood, said, “Oh.”

Ming Zhu seemed reluctant to talk, lowered her eyes, started wiping the stool.

Yu Jing propped her chin, watched her, thought of earlier.

She knew ‘To the Sun’’s melody by heart, had played it for Ming Zhu once, didn’t expect her to remember and play a segment so fast.

“You must memorize lines quickly,” Yu Jing said, flipping the sheet music idly, seeming casual.

Ming Zhu finished wiping, tossed the tissue in the trash, looked puzzled, and asked, “Why say that?”

“You only heard this song once, right? Playing it after one listen—your memory’s amazing.”

“Who said I heard it once?”

“…Huh?” Wasn’t it?

Ming Zhu leaned forward across the piano, fixed her eyes on Yu Jing’s, said slowly, “Since you played it for me, I downloaded it to my phone, listened to it when free, memorized it completely.”

Yu Jing’s mouth hung open, her pretty eyes widened, stunned into silence.

Thinking she didn’t believe, Ming Zhu moved her chair, sat, glanced at her, then closed her eyes.

Her slender fingers danced elegantly on the keys, striking familiar, beautiful notes.

The gentle intro, intense main theme, soaring chorus, firm ending—Ming Zhu didn’t miss a note.

She kept her eyes closed, sunlight danced on her long lashes. Immersed in playing, she seemed to glow, breathtakingly beautiful.

Yu Jing forgot if she was admiring the music or the person, her elbow numbed on the piano lid, unnoticed.

Her right middle finger pressed down, lifted, the piece ended. Ming Zhu opened her eyes, met a pair of starry eyes staring at her.

Those eyes weren’t just captivating, they sparkled, conveying awe and admiration.

Yu Jing looked at her like that for the first time, unguarded, almost entranced.

Ming Zhu’s heart skipped half a beat, her right hand lifted, gently covered Yu Jing’s bright, watery eyes.

“Hm?” Darkness fell, Yu Jing made a confused sound, her vision blocked.

Ming Zhu didn’t move her hand, felt the lingering enchantment through it, said in a low voice, “Don’t look at me like that.”

Was her expression too silly? Yu Jing didn’t want her to know she was distracted by her beauty, choked, said guiltily, “I was appreciating.”

“But I’m afraid I can’t resist—”

“Resist… what?”

Her fluttering lashes brushed Ming Zhu’s palm like feathers, an itchy sensation piercing her heart.

Ming Zhu’s throat tightened, her other hand lifted, gently touched Yu Jing’s full, parted lips, said hoarsely, “Afraid I can’t resist kissing you.”