Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha and Got Marked by the Enemy (ABO, GL) - Chapter 56

Chapter 56

Ming Zhu’s flirtatious words were like intoxicating wine, numbing Yu Jing’s body and mind.

Unable to see anything, Yu Jing’s senses focused on her lips, felt the finger pressing them lift away.

The familiar cold fragrance gently enveloped her, warm breath drew near, almost merging with hers.

Yu Jing snapped awake.

She broke free, escaped.

The piano between them was the perfect shield. Yu Jing successfully dodged the intimacy, stumbled back two steps.

Ming Zhu, who had leaned forward, met empty air, lifted her lashes, and looked over.

The girl’s chest heaved slightly, her newly freed eyes filled with bewitched panic and shame. Annoyed at her weak resolve, she puffed her cheeks, glared, pointed a trembling finger, and gritted out, “You, pervert!”

“…”

Yu Jing thought her scolding was fierce, unaware her flushed face made it sound like whining, making her seem easier to tease.

Ming Zhu snapped out of her daze, regretted the miss, saw Yu Jing’s non-threatening, adorable fierceness, couldn’t help but smile.

She dared to laugh! Yu Jing, furious and embarrassed, turned to leave.

Ming Zhu circled the piano, grabbed her wrist.

Yu Jing struggled.

Ming Zhu let go before she got mad, dropped her playful expression, looked into her eyes, and said sincerely, “Sorry, I was wrong.”

Yu Jing felt like she’d punched cotton, powerless and lost.

Ming Zhu saw her expression soften, gentled her tone, and said, “If you leave now, we won’t have enough rehearsal time.”

“…”

Yu Jing wasn’t really mad, more embarrassed and uneasy.

She always knew she and Ming Zhu clashed. Every time they were alone, something unexpected happened. Just now, hearing Ming Zhu say she wanted to kiss her, Yu Jing’s heart fluttered, nearly losing her senses…

Worried Ming Zhu would notice, she rushed to escape.

Hearing “rehearsal,” Yu Jing pushed aside her chaotic thoughts. She glanced at the piano, then at Ming Zhu, who seemed genuinely remorseful and focused on work, paused, steadied herself, and said seriously, “No more messing around.”

Ming Zhu raised her right hand, two fingers up, swore solemnly, “I promise.”

Yu Jing used to trust her character completely, but after that tease, she had doubts.

Would a promise really hold?

With limited time, Yu Jing couldn’t overthink, cautiously studied her for seconds, reluctantly trusted her words.

Avoiding Ming Zhu’s intense gaze, Yu Jing looked at the piano, licked her dry lips, and said, “Can you play it again?”

She was too distracted by Ming Zhu’s beauty to listen properly before.

Luckily, Ming Zhu didn’t question, sat back at the piano compliantly.

This time, eyes open, Ming Zhu adopted a serious attitude, her fingers danced on the keys, producing familiar notes.

She didn’t need to look at the keyboard, cast aside complex emotions, focused only on the singer beside her.

Yu Jing rested one hand on the piano lid, her slender fingers tapped to the rhythm. As the intro ended, she lowered her eyes, parted her lips, and sang clear lyrics.

The opening performance was short, just ninety seconds, enough for half the song. One played, one sang; their first practice meshed surprisingly perfectly.

“You play so well!” Yu Jing couldn’t help praising after the first run.

Ming Zhu looked up, sunlight lit her eyes, made her impossibly gentle, smiled, and said generously, “You sing great too.”

Yu Jing didn’t know if it was her gaze or praise, but the heat that had faded from her face returned.

“Knock, knock, knock—” Someone knocked.

Both looked at the door.

The director entered, checked their practice.

They rehearsed again.

“Sounds great, both teachers are amazing,” the director praised exaggeratedly, then shifted, “But for the live stage, I think you two should add some interaction.”

They looked at her blankly.

The director eyed them, got an idea, beckoned Yu Jing, and said, “You can sit beside Teacher Ming Zhu.”

Yu Jing glanced at Ming Zhu.

Ming Zhu scooted over, made space.

Yu Jing reluctantly approached, looked down, saw the stool was short, sat on half of it.

The director said, “No gaps, sit close, the more intimate, the better.”

Yu Jing hesitated, “Too close, I might affect her playing.”

“It’s fine, it won’t,” Ming Zhu said in her ear. To prove her reach, she stretched her arm, easily hit the farthest key, played a “ding.”

“Ha—” Yu Jing forced a smile, shuffled closer until she couldn’t move, sat uncomfortably.

The director posed them, signaled to start.

Ming Zhu’s fingers played lightly.

So close, Yu Jing could almost hear her breathing and heartbeat. To stay focused, she stared at Ming Zhu’s moving hands, listened intently.

The director instructed again, “Teacher Yu Jing, during the intro, rest your head on Teacher Ming Zhu’s shoulder.”

Yu Jing glanced at Ming Zhu’s straight shoulder, wearily leaned her head on it.

Ming Zhu’s back stiffened, she turned to look.

“Yes, yes, Teacher Ming Zhu, perfect!” the director said excitedly, “Teacher Yu Jing, lift your head a bit, make eye contact, smile, be affectionate.”

Affectionate???

Yu Jing nearly jumped, raised her head, smiled stiffly at the director, hinted gently, “’To the Sun’ is an uplifting song, not a love song.”

“No problem,” the director said meaningfully, “Audiences want your sweet interactions; it doesn’t matter if it’s a love song.”

Yu Jing’s mouth twitched, speechless.

Though absurd, they were there to promote. Yu Jing complied.

Following the director’s instructions, they rehearsed the song again.

Their synergy was seamless, the director was satisfied, left after praising Ming Zhu, “Teacher Ming Zhu, true actor, that tender gaze was so convincing!”

Ming Zhu glanced at Yu Jing, who bolted from the stool post-rehearsal, signaled with her eyes: I wasn’t acting.

“Cough—” Yu Jing pretended to look elsewhere.

The three groups finished practicing, the director had them rehearse on stage. After the opening, they ran through the show’s flow with the four hosts.

Time slipped away, night fell.

At 7 p.m., under the eager anticipation of 500 live audience members, a spotlight flashed on, landed on the center stage.

In a champagne-colored gown, Ming Zhu sat at a white piano, dry ice mist swirled around her, she played immersed. The camera zoomed in, her long lashes fluttered open, her gaze caught the girl in a lotus-pink gown at the stage’s edge, her cold face bloomed with a gentle smile.

Yu Jing met her watery eyes, walked toward the stage.

An audience member stood, shouted, “Ming-Jing is real!”

This sparked chaos, screams and cheers erupted.

Yu Jing’s legs wobbled, thick dry ice obscured her view, she tripped on her gown, lurched forward, but Ming Zhu swiftly caught her in her arms.

Seeing them locked in an embrace, the audience roared louder, some raised phones to snap photos and videos.

The mishap halted the music. Yu Jing’s heart raced, cold sweat poured, she looked to Ming Zhu for help.

Ming Zhu gave a calming look, helped her sit, took her mic, turned to the rowdy audience, and said, “Can you let us finish the song first?”

The audience wasn’t there to disrupt, quieted after laughing.

Ming Zhu returned the mic to Yu Jing, felt her cold hand, wiped her sweaty palm on her own gown off-camera, squeezed her hand, mouthed silently: Don’t be nervous.

Yu Jing was indeed too nervous.

Three years since her debut, she’d occasionally covered songs on other shows, but this was her first public performance of her own song. Already unsure, the audience’s chaos threw her off completely.

Ming Zhu’s single glance calmed her. Yu Jing adjusted, curved her eyes, signaled she was ready.

Ming Zhu sat straight, the gentle piano notes resumed. Yu Jing leaned on her shoulder, shed her shyness and panic, felt only peace.

The show was pre-recorded, the small mishap didn’t delay much. They restarted, delivered a stunning performance.

Half a song passed quickly. The Ming-Jing CP’s first stage collaboration ended perfectly, another group rushed on stage.

Amid thunderous applause, they held hands, headed backstage.

“Phew—” Yu Jing sighed long.

Ming Zhu touched her soft, dry palm, looked down, and asked, “Still nervous?”

Yu Jing shook her head, thought, and said, “Feels unsatisfying.”

Unsatisfying from not singing enough or from their collaboration? Ming Zhu wanted to ask, opened her mouth, saw the director approach, swallowed her words.

After the performance, guests and hosts had to appear on stage. The director, fearing they’d forget, came to remind them to prepare introductions.

Three hours later, recording ended, night deepened.

Recording ‘Crazy Treasure Hunt’ took a whole day; ‘Happy Star’ was a breeze for the six MCs, and they had fun.

After, the four hosts invited them for local food at a famous nearby food stall.

The hosts were regulars, the owner prepared a private room. Nearly twenty people crammed into the lively stall, ate local specialties, clinked glasses, laughed, and chatted.

To fit her stunning gown, Yu Jing ate lightly at dinner. Seeing plates of delicious crawfish, she couldn’t resist, put on gloves, grabbed a garlic-flavored one, sipped the rich broth to satisfy her craving, then started peeling.

Rarely eating these, Yu Jing peeled clumsily, took ages for one. The tender meat, dipped in the stall’s special sauce, tasted heavenly.

Delicious but tedious.

Yu Jing peeled five, tried every flavor, removed her greasy gloves, sipped her watermelon juice.

“Why’d you stop?” Ming Zhu, on her right, asked suddenly.

Not wanting the enthusiastic hosts to hear, Yu Jing hid behind her cup, leaned close, and said, “Peeling’s exhausting.”

Ming Zhu raised a brow, glanced at the pile of shells by Yu Jing’s hand, then at the vibrant crawfish plates, looked thoughtful.

Yu Jing thought she was tempted, pointed at the garlic plate, and urged, “That one’s the best.”

Ming Zhu glanced at her, put on gloves.

Gloves on, Ming Zhu picked the fattest garlic crawfish, mimicked Yu Jing’s method, peeled carefully.

Yu Jing noticed she peeled even slower, recalled Ming Zhu eating bland food in Bishui Town, asked casually, “You’ve never eaten these before?”

Ming Zhu hummed, removed the claws, showed her oily palm, and said primly, “These are too greasy, unhealthy.”

Female stars cared about their figures. Yu Jing glanced at Ming Zhu’s curvaceous body, thought secretly: Her figure’s too perfect, slim where it should be, full where it counts.

Ming Zhu caught her gaze, paused peeling, lowered her voice, and asked, “Where are you looking?”

Her soft breath brushed Yu Jing’s ear, numbing half her body. Yu Jing quickly looked away from the inappropriate spot, casually downed her chilled watermelon juice.

Ming Zhu chuckled softly.

Yu Jing ground her teeth, wanted to hit her.

“Jingjing, want more?” Xiao Yihuan, pouring juice, saw her empty cup, asked.

Juice was high in sugar, not for overindulging. Yu Jing’s face still burned, wanted the cold to cool her, smiled, and said, “Sure.”

But Xiao Yihuan couldn’t reach.

With too many people, extra seats narrowed the room. Ming Zhu, peeling, couldn’t help. They stood, reached past Ming Zhu, one held the cup, the other poured carefully.

“Ding-dong—”

A notification sounded below, made them both look down, their gazes landed on Ming Zhu’s phone on the table.

The lit screen showed a familiar name, the message clear.

Liang Tian: “Senior, are you asleep?”

It was the guest who replaced Peng Ze for ‘Treasure Hunt’’s third episode, the actress who filmed ‘Qinghu Legend’ with Ming Zhu.

Peeking at someone’s privacy was rude. Yu Jing and Xiao Yihuan realized this, both looked away, then at each other.

Yu Jing felt suddenly irritated, ignored Xiao Yihuan’s winking, held her cold watermelon juice with both hands, sat back slowly.

“Ding-dong—” Ming Zhu’s phone chimed again.

Yu Jing forced herself not to look at the phone or Ming Zhu, sipped her juice calmly.

Xiao Yihuan couldn’t resist, glanced at the lit screen, saw Liang Tian’s name again. She didn’t read the message, pulled out her phone, typed quickly.

Yu Jing sipped glumly, felt her bag vibrate faintly.

She’d silenced her phone during recording, forgot to unmute. She opened her bag, took her phone, unlocked it, saw Xiao Yihuan’s message.

Xiao Yihuan: “Show’s done, and Liang Tian’s still bothering Sister Ming Zhu!”

Yu jing thought: Bothering? Let her, if Ming Zhu wants it.

If she didn’t, she’d have blocked her, right?

Yu Jing recalled Liang Tian’s WeChat post about Ming Zhu giving her a ride, felt a mix of emotions—restless,闷, a touch of sourness.

Before sorting her tangled feelings, her tightly gripped phone vibrated long.

She looked down, saw the caller ID’s name, felt more blocked, hung up without thinking.

It rang again.

She hung up again.

The caller didn’t give up, kept calling persistently. Yu Jing, fed up, bumped her elbow into dishes, made a sharp “clang.”

Ming Zhu, peeling crawfish, looked up, saw her bad expression, wanted to ask what was wrong, but Yu Jing stood abruptly.

“Where’re you going?” Xiao Ye, mouth greasy, asked quickly.

Yu Jing didn’t explain, pointed outside, took her phone, left the room.

With her gone, Xiao Ye met Ming Zhu’s searching gaze, swallowed her food, answered for Yu Jing, “Probably the bathroom.”

Ming Zhu doubted it, hesitated, placed the peeled crawfish meat in Yu Jing’s bowl, removed her gloves.

Someone tugged her clothes.

Ming Zhu turned, looked puzzled at Xiao Yihuan.

Xiao Yihuan leaned close, covered her mouth, said mysteriously, “Jingjing might be upset.”

Ming Zhu was confused, asked, “Upset about what?”

Xiao Yihuan nodded at her phone, “Liang Tian messaged you, Jingjing and I saw.”

Ming Zhu was surprised. She’d been focused on peeling, didn’t hear her phone.

She picked it up, read Liang Tian’s messages, frowned deeply.

Liang Tian sent two messages.

First: Senior, are you asleep?

Second: I’m going to M City for a shoot tomorrow, which outfit looks better? [Image][Image][Image]

Three selfies of Liang Tian in dresses. Ming Zhu didn’t open them, closed the window without hesitation.

Xiao Yihuan fanned the flames, “Sister Ming Zhu, Liang Tian likes you, right? An Omega sending flirty messages so late, even I’d misunderstand, let alone Jingjing.”

Xiao Yihuan didn’t see the second message but, from Ming Zhu’s expression, guessed Liang Tian was stirring trouble, decided to help.

Ming Zhu frowned, thought. Liang Tian added her on WeChat after the show, said she had no ride, Zhou Qi drove her for old times’ sake. Liang Tian was chatty, Ming Zhu ignored her. After, Liang Tian thanked her via message, Ming Zhu didn’t reply. Days passed, Ming Zhu nearly forgot her.

Liang Tian’s intentions were clear, Ming Zhu understood, just didn’t care, so she ignored her. She didn’t expect Liang Tian’s boldness, messaging her late.

Xiao Yihuan, done stirring, saw Ming Zhu unmoving, got anxious.

Jingjing’s upset, go coax her!

Xiao Yihuan tried again, “Jingjing, she…”

Ming Zhu didn’t wait, turned, and ran.

Xiao Yihuan froze, watched the tall figure vanish like wind, smiled.

She sipped watermelon juice contentedly, logged into her burner Weibo, typed, and posted.

MingJingCPFan: “#MingJingSuperTopic #I think they’ve got something.”

The stall was bustling, some played drinking games, some sang drunkenly. Yu Jing searched for a quiet spot, asked the owner about a bathroom.

Knowing she was a star with the hosts, the owner offered his family’s upstairs bathroom, cleaner, usually private.

Yu Jing felt shy, but the owner waved it off, said, “No big deal, Brother Hua’s friends are my friends. My wife’ll take you.”

Brother Hua was ‘Happy Star’’s lead host.

Unable to refuse, Yu Jing thanked him, followed the owner’s wife upstairs.

The wife was friendly, they chatted while climbing. Halfway, someone downstairs yelled for more beer.

The wife answered, pointed to the bathroom at the corner, said, “Use it freely,” and rushed to serve guests.

Yu Jing stood on the stairs, stared dazedly at the lively crowd below, snapped back when her phone stopped vibrating.

She flipped her phone, saw three missed calls, one unread message, opened it unhurriedly.

Mom: “Baby, are you still busy? Mom doesn’t want to disturb your work, no big deal, just wondering if you can come back tomorrow?”

Seeing the odd pet name, Yu Jing sneered.

She didn’t call back or reply.

Turning off her phone, she noticed a red oil smudge on the screen, unsure how it got there. She wiped it off hard, looked at the nearby bathroom, pocketed her phone, and went up.

The bathroom was clean and spacious.

Not there to use it, Yu Jing saw a bottle of Blue Moon hand soap, squirted some out.

The red oil mixed with spices, its heavy scent hard to wash. She scrubbed carefully, the water’s rush drowned out approaching footsteps.

“Here you are.”

A familiar voice drifted from the doorway. Yu Jing looked up, saw Ming Zhu leaning there, slightly panting, blurted dumbly, “What’re you doing here?”

Ming Zhu brushed her messy hair, walked in, turned off the faucet.

“Looking for you.”

“…”

The bright light showed Ming Zhu’s lashes clearly, her cheeks flushed, but Yu Jing couldn’t read her mood, asked cautiously, “Are you mad?”

“…Mad about what?” Yu Jing echoed her earlier question.

Ming Zhu hadn’t noticed before, thought Yu Jing was hiding, cleared her throat, said more carefully, “Liang Tian messaged me, I didn’t reply.”

Yu Jing was confused by her disjointed words, shook water off her hands, said listlessly, “Reply if you want, don’t if you don’t. What’s it to me?”

Her words claimed indifference, but she didn’t notice the mix of annoyance and jealousy in her dry tone, stiff face, and dim eyes.

Ming Zhu sensed her mood shift, stepped closer.

“Ding-dong—”

A short notification stopped her.

Ming Zhu picked up her phone, saw another message from Liang Tian, shut it off expressionlessly.

Yu Jing glimpsed the sticky “Senior” on the screen, felt her bl00d surge.

Like a caged beast finding an outlet, she vented her piled-up frustration on the mood-breaking message, smirked, and said sarcastically, “You and Liang Tian are about the same age, both actors, must have lots to talk about, huh?”

Ming Zhu couldn’t grasp why she said that, watched her unblinkingly, said calmly, “I’ve never chatted with her.”

Yu Jing ignored her, said coolly, “Senior and junior, sounds like a perfect match.”

Her words twisted, almost snarky, but Ming Zhu wasn’t annoyed.

Not only unannoyed, Ming Zhu felt a secret thrill, stepped forward, looked past her knotted brows, into her eyes, and said softly, “Jingjing, are you jealous?”

The distance closed, Yu Jing saw the amusement in her eyes, realized what she’d said, clamped her lips, pushed her away, and strode out.

“Bang—”

Ming Zhu shut the door first.

Yu Jing couldn’t stop, her forehead hit Ming Zhu’s arm, saw her block the door with her body, felt anxious and messy, tried to push her, but couldn’t budge her.

Ming Zhu was slim but an Alpha, immovable against the door, looked down, her gaze on Yu Jing’s oil-stained red lips.

“Move!” Yu Jing said fiercely.

Ming Zhu didn’t, bent slightly, stared burning at her pouty lips, “Is crawfish really that good?”

“What… mmph…” Yu Jing didn’t catch her words, looked up instinctively, but Ming Zhu grabbed her chin.

Two soft lips pressed hers without warning, swallowing her unfinished words.