Forced to Pretend to Be an A and Marry the Best Actress Omega - Chapter 26

She had stumbled upon someone else’s intimate moment.

The scene before Xu Mifei’s eyes lingered persistently.

It was Teacher Lin Su and He Yanzhen…

She saw Lin Su turn her head to bite He Yanzhen’s nape, completely unlike her usual gentle demeanor—ferocious and dominant.

He Yanzhen arched her neck in what seemed like a mix of pleasure and pain, as if being forced to endure it.

They were marking each other.

This was Xu Mifei’s first time witnessing the marking process between a normal Alpha and Omega, especially between two mature women.

Teacher Lin bore no resemblance to her usual mild self.

Had she been just as rough when comforting Jiang Lingyu?

Did Jiang Lingyu’s expression mirror Sister Zhenzhen’s—unable to suppress soft moans despite the pain, helplessly sinking into the quagmire of desire?

Fortunately, Xu Mifei was quick on her feet and had swiftly hidden herself, but the sounds from their direction still reached her ears uncontrollably.

After some shuffling noises, she heard a sharp slap, followed by Lin Su’s voice: “What did I do wrong this time that you had to be like this?”

“I’m just reminding you not to forget—once the show ends, we’re getting a divorce. Don’t get carried away.”

Xu Mifei’s eyes widened in shock, her breath catching.

What a bombshell! Weren’t Teacher Lin and Sister Zhenzhen the epitome of a model couple for twenty years?

“You know perfectly well that our interests are maximized by staying bound together,” Lin Su said. “Or have you fallen for someone else?”

“Lin Su, you’re truly obsessed with money! Have you forgotten you’re a teacher?” He Yanzhen pushed Lin Su away as she tried to approach again. “Who I like or don’t like is none of your business, but it certainly won’t be you. We agreed before joining this show—nothing will change.”

After a long silence, Lin Su said coldly, “Yes, I am obsessed with money. All our endorsements and commercial commitments have time clauses. Even after the divorce, you’ll have to maintain our partnership for another six months. Yanzhen, He Yanzhen! After twenty years, you still don’t know what kind of person I am?”

The argument ended with He Yanzhen storming off in anger. Though resentful, Lin Su immediately followed.

Only when the area was empty again did Xu Mifei dare to breathe loudly.

So, explosive.

Earlier, both Lin Su and He Yanzhen had released their pheromones. Thankfully, as a beta, Xu Mifei couldn’t sense them—otherwise, she would have been exposed.

She could only pretend she hadn’t heard anything, straightened her clothes, and walked out. By the time she rejoined the crew, everyone had gathered at the campsite.

Xu Wanzhi and Jiang Lingyu, who had left earlier, along with Lin Su and He Yanzhen, had all returned, greeting the cameras in perfect unison.

Their expressions showed no trace of abnormality—utterly unreadable.

Xu Mifei couldn’t help but admire these actresses for their impeccable skills.

If it were her, merely standing beside Jiang Lingyu would be impossible without her imagination running wild.

Only Wen Yue and Shen Wansui remained as sweet as ever, clinging to each other like inseparable conjoined twins.

Physical signals couldn’t lie, especially between Alphas and Omegas.

Xu Mifei scanned the scene.

She noticed that Xu Wanzhi and Jiang Lingyu maintained a slight distance between them, their arms not touching.

This discovery brought a small flicker of joy to her heart.

This meant her efforts today had paid off. Today shouldn’t be the day Jiang Lingyu’s impression of Xu Wanzhi changed or her feelings shifted.

The original text didn’t describe this variety show much, and Xu Mifei’s memories were vague. She could only recall key moments, remembering that the original host was inevitably cyberbullied after participating in this show.

Xu Wanzhi noticed the gaze from ahead and glared at Xu Mifei when the camera panned over.

Xu Mifei simply smiled back at her.

“…” Xu Wanzhi gritted her teeth. Hypocrite! Fake! Let’s see what explanation you’ll give me later.

Only then did Xu Mifei remember there was something she hadn’t done yet—she should have waited for Xu Wanzhi to approach her first.

After the river-crossing game and a break, it was already 4 p.m. The guests changed back into their own clothes, pinned on their brooches, and began heading toward the dance venue.

Xu Mifei continued doing her assigned work, accompanying the guests to the venue. Along the way, the guests chatted lively among themselves.

“Xiao Xu, how’s it going over there?” Hu Yigui’s voice came through Xu Mifei’s earpiece. “We’re pretty much done with the setup here.”

“The main group will arrive in about half an hour. Team leader, did you find the person?” Xu Mifei lowered her voice and subtly pointed at the cameraman following Jiang Lingyu.

The young cameraman shyly smiled at her before quietly turning his lens away.

Since returning, she’d noticed more cameras occasionally focusing on her—though she wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination.

“Found him. Another intern from your batch. Trembled like a leaf when I questioned him—confessed everything quickly. I’ll have him stay with Director Jin tonight.” Hu Yigui’s voice turned cold. “I’ll personally fire him.”

Xu Mifei said, “Good. But later I need to take him to see someone.”

“Alright, come over first.”

After crossing the river, the path mostly ascended.

Though the props team had prepared the route in advance, progress was slow—everyone was exhausted from the bridge challenge.

Jiang Lingyu walked unevenly with her trekking pole. The rugged terrain gradually left her breathless.

Click.

Her pole got stuck in a crevice, bending slightly.

It was a minor incident that went unnoticed by the group. Jiang Lingyu pulled it out and prepared to continue, not wanting to delay everyone.

But between the uneven path and the damaged pole, she nearly stumbled at a turn.

Jiang Lingyu immediately pressed her lips together, refusing to make any sound that might alarm others.

“Careful.”

A figure swiftly approached, not only steadying her but deftly replacing Jiang Lingyu’s trekking pole with a new one.

After helping, the person retreated behind her again, following at a leisurely pace.

Only then did Jiang Lingyu realize—though Xu Mifei wasn’t constantly behind her, her gaze had never left her.

With the new pole, Jiang Lingyu walked steadily, yet the lingering warmth from those slender fingers supporting her waist stayed with her throughout the journey.

After 5 p.m., dusk slowly fell as the guests arrived at the open-air dance venue, half-walking, half-sightseeing.

Everyone was stunned by the setup before them.

A dazzling array of food and flowers adorned the white lace-covered dining tables. In the center, a large dance floor was outlined by floral arrangements and twinkling star lights, with a massive bonfire pit crackling with burning wood at its heart.

Several tall, multi-tiered wooden stands nearby held various foods, ingredients, and meats, with medium-sized bamboo baskets placed beneath them.

The severe lack of supplies in the previous days had left all the guests stunned by the program team’s sudden extravagance—and suspicious of a trap. Despite their growling stomachs, they hesitated to approach.

It was then that Jin Chiyu stepped forward with a megaphone: “Congratulations on making it to our Animal Ball! You’ve all worked hard, and this lavish dinner is well-deserved. Don’t worry—it’s not poisoned.”

“While you enjoy the food and drinks, let me announce today’s results. The winning team is Wen Yue, Shen Wansui, and He Yanzhen—congratulations! You’ve earned a hidden reward, which I’ll reveal later.”

“As for the other three… though your methods and timing varied, everyone successfully crossed the river. So tonight, you’ve unlocked your rooms and can sleep in beds—no points deducted.”

Good news: The production team is being humane. Bad news: When the production team is humane, there’s usually a catch.

 

Why isn’t the camera cutting to the staff? Director Jin is speaking—quick, film her!

 

We all know who you really want to see, no need to say it.

“Woohoo!” Wen Yue cheered enthusiastically. “Our Lingyu-jie can finally come back and rest.”

“The production team finally did something decent,” Xu Wanzhi said to Jiang Lingyu. “Lingyu, you must’ve been so uncomfortable sleeping in that tent last night, especially with the cold weather.”

Jiang Lingyu smiled faintly at Wen Yue. Truthfully, she had found sleeping in the tent… rather nice.

Reassured that tonight was a reward, everyone relaxed and moved to the dining tables, pulling out chairs to sit.

For better filming aesthetics, the guests had swapped their hiking sneakers for formal dresses and heels, making the scene resemble a glamorous awards gala rather than a simple bonfire dance.

To showcase her chivalry, Xu Wanzhi immediately reached for the chair beside her.

“Lingyu, sit here.”

She gripped the armrest and pulled—only for her expression to shift slightly.

The seemingly ordinary dining chair didn’t budge.

“Is the production team playing games again?” Xu Wanzhi forced a smile, glancing elsewhere.

He Yanzhen and Shen Wansui, both omegas, had effortlessly pushed their chairs aside and taken their seats.

Had the chair sunk into the mud from sitting too long?

She abandoned it and moved to another chair, this time gripping the back firmly and heaving upward with all her strength.

The chair didn’t move an inch.

Xu Wanzhi’s eyes darkened, her jaw tightening as she gritted her teeth to suppress her frustration.

“Just sit anywhere,” Jiang Lingyu said. Chairs encircled the dance floor, but as she turned to leave, Xu Wanzhi leaned in to block her path, whispering:

“No. You’re sitting with me.”

The commotion drew the others’ attention.

Lin Su came over to help. “Is the chair broken? Let me try.”

Her seniority far surpassed Xu Wanzhi’s, so even with any backing, Xu Wanzhi couldn’t possibly throw a tantrum in front of her and thus stepped aside.

Could it really be pulled open? The production team had turned everything on this island into props, likely just another prank on the guests. Xu Wanzhi thought Lin Su was putting on a show for the cameras, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

But Lin Su didn’t seem to exert much effort—the chair lifted with surprising ease.

Xu Wanzhi: “??”

At this moment, I’m wondering if the Xu family’s claim about the “strongest Alpha” was a mistake.

 

Let Xu Mifei try. If she can still lift that chair effortlessly, then I’ll believe Xu Wanzhi’s grip strength really is lacking.

 

An Alpha with weak grip strength? I wonder if Xu Wanzhi would give up Jiang Lingyu for a double-Alpha relationship with me. This strong Alpha can lift an entire cow.

Reported the “strong Alpha” above—stay in your lane!!!

Lin Su hadn’t expected it to be so easy either, so she tried lifting another supposedly immovable chair—only to find it came up just as effortlessly.

Xu Wanzhi: “…”

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little game we prepared for everyone. It won’t affect your points. There are all sorts of interactive props and mini tasks around the venue to make your evenings more exciting,” Jin Chiyu reassured. “Rest assured, everything is completely safe.”

Mention of props made Jiang Lingyu think of something, and her gaze drifted toward Xu Mifei across the way.

Xu Mifei’s face was alight with poorly concealed amusement, her eyes sparkling with mischief, brighter than the twilight itself.

A mischievous little troublemaker.

Jiang Lingyu instantly understood.

Xu Mifei noticed Jiang Lingyu’s gaze and met her eyes with a playful smile, though she guiltily slipped the small controller in her palm into her pocket.

Not all the chairs on set were controlled by Xu Mifei’s tiny device—just the ones in Xu Wanzhi’s chosen section.

The director had said that during the icebreaker game, two chairs should be made immovable for the guests.

The solution was simple: just persist and try a second time. The second attempt wouldn’t apply extra weight—but who knew Xu Wanzhi would be so impatient?

Lin Su said, “Then let’s sit.”

“I’m not sitting on this chair. How is this safe?” Xu Wanzhi immediately protested. “Who knows if you’ll mess with us again… Director, can you guarantee it?”

Jin Chiyu was baffled: Uh… can’t you see the others sitting just fine over there?

“If it were just me, fine, but what if Lingyu sits down and suddenly falls? That would be unacceptable,” Xu Wanzhi frowned, staring pointedly at Xu Mifei off-camera.

!!!

 

I’m actually crying, you might as well tattoo “Yuyu is my precious darling” on your forehead.

 

All you haters take a look—our Zhizhi might’ve been called a weak Alpha, but she’s always been sincere with Yuyu.

 

Who’s even spreading this nonsense? Can Xu Mifei’s PR team stop interfering? It’s ruining the show.

Sweetheart, who are you looking at? Don’t tell me Xu Mifei’s haunting today’s task location too!!

At Jin Chiyu’s cue, the camera panned to Xu Mifei’s faintly amused face.

She said coolly, “Our props are perfectly safe.”

“If it’s so safe, why not have the props team come and test it themselves?” Xu Wanzhi said. “These two chairs are your props, aren’t they?”

Xu Mifei didn’t back down either, walking over calmly and squeezing herself right between Jiang Lingyu and Xu Wanzhi.

Her fingers immediately rested on the edge of the chair back.

“Wait,” Xu Wanzhi pulled the chair toward herself, finding no resistance this time, and sneered, “If these are props, there must be a control mechanism. What if you’re giving yourself an advantage?”

“Dear audience,” Xu Mifei suddenly turned to face the main camera, her bright eyes making viewers hold their breath.

Are you taking advantage of this to show off your looks? Wait, let me faint first!

 

Fine, just don’t call me ‘baby’ or I might stop criticizing you!!!!

“Our warm-up game is simple. Watch this device in my hand—press once to increase pressure on both chairs, press again to release. Now it’s yours to control while I sit here. Test it however you like.”

Xu Mifei tossed the slim remote toward Xu Wanzhi and then casually plopped down on the chair.

This simple action left everyone stunned.

Dressed in a black uniform, Xu Mifei exuded understated elegance and an air of nobility that couldn’t be hidden. Beside her stood two glamorous celebrities in high heels and lavish outfits, contrasting sharply with her uniform.

Even seated, her presence was commanding—like a ruthless boss amusedly sizing up her enemies.

Everyone present wondered: Were they testing props or performing a stage drama? With such strong screen presence, why hadn’t any directors cast Xu Mifei in films before?

Someone screenshots this iconic moment!

 

How about you stop arguing and get a director to give them a love triangle period drama? I’d definitely watch!

 

Actually, triangles are the most stable shape, don’t you agree?

“This chair could hold me plus another person on top of me,” Xu Mifei slightly lifted her chin, her body naturally angled toward Jiang Lingyu while maintaining eye contact with Xu Wanzhi. “Well? Care to test that?”

She raised a hand toward Xu Wanzhi, smiling, “You could sit on my lap and see if it collapses.”

As soon as she spoke, Xu Mifei noticed Jiang Lingyu’s gaze shift her way. She lightly tapped Jiang Lingyu’s skirt with her fingers, signaling everything was fine.

“Are you insane? Who would sit on you!” Xu Wanzhi couldn’t stand Xu Mifei’s nonchalant attitude—it was as if all her past attempts to humiliate her had become ineffective.

Xu Mifei shrugged indifferently: “It’s not like we haven’t played like this when we were kids.”

Xu Wanzhi’s expression froze.

When they were kids? Back then, wasn’t it always her pushing Xu Mifei onto rickety stools and watching her crash to the ground?

“No need to shout if you won’t do it.” Xu Mifei chuckled and reached for the controller, but Xu Wanzhi jerked it away. “Let’s test it again. I’m not convinced.”

She didn’t notice her hand nearly hitting Jiang Lingyu.

Xu Mifei, whose focus had been razor-sharp, suddenly stood up and blocked Jiang Lingyu’s forehead with her hand.

The corner of the remote control pressed into her palm as Xu Mifei spoke again, her tone several degrees colder, “Once the test is done, I suggest you learn to watch your step.”

The back of her hand radiated body heat.

Against her pale, cool skin, the veins stood out clearly, slightly raised like delicate vines winding their way into the pure black cuff.

The stark contrast between black and white always made for a striking visual. The precise tailoring of her clothes and her well-defined knuckles faintly hinted at an air of restraint.

Jiang Lingyu’s gaze remained fixed, lingering so long that even the space between her brows began to tingle faintly.

Lin Su moved to intervene, but He Yanzhen pulled her back, whispering, “Teacher Lin, do you always have to meddle in everything?”

This was clearly a necessary contest between two Alphas. Without determining a winner, the entire dance would be thrown into chaos.

Lin Su: “…” She caught the implication in Yanzhen’s words.

Xu Wanzhi pressed down on the remote control. “Now try moving these two chairs.”

She didn’t believe Xu Mifei could lift them.

The chairs had been weighted now, unlike when Lin Su had moved them earlier without added pressure.

As a beta, Xu Mifei stood no chance of budging them.

As long as she failed, Xu Wanzhi could reclaim all the dignity she’d lost in front of the cameras!

Only after confirming Xu Wanzhi had no further tricks up her sleeve did Xu Mifei withdraw the hand, she had protectively placed before Jiang Lingyu.

She couldn’t care less about Xu Wanzhi’s schemes—the more innocent that face looked, the more devious the mind behind it. Her only concern was whether any of that malice had splashed onto Jiang Lingyu.

After painstakingly getting Jiang Lingyu to gradually accept her, with the comforting process now in its second phase, Xu Mifei couldn’t tolerate Xu Wanzhi’s constant provocations that might send Jiang Lingyu spiraling back down the path of darkness.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the chair, pausing for two seconds.

A mocking smile already played on Xu Wanzhi’s lips—she knew Xu Mifei couldn’t possibly lift them, her taunts nearly spilling out.

Using props like this to target her, was that it?

“Apologies, but a show needs its dramatic moments.” Suddenly, Xu Mifei freed one hand to undo the top button of her uniform.

Leaning forward would require force, and the tight button would hinder her.

The next moment, her unbuttoning left hand didn’t return to the chair. Instead, she lifted it with her right hand alone.

Other guests: “???”

Audience: ？？？？？？？

Want to curse, but saw Xu Wanzhi press the weight button with my own eyes—can’t bring myself to do it. Damn it, say something!

After moving one, she lifted the other, both chairs’ legs sinking deep into the soil when set down.

Only Jiang Lingyu noticed the glimpse of pale skin where her collar had fallen open, along with the tendons in Xu Mifei’s neck.

She’d exerted herself—the muscles in her arms subtly flexing, stretching the uniform sleeves into defined contours.

The sudden burst of strength made the veins in her neck more prominent than usual. Jiang Lingyu found it impossible to look away.

This version of Xu Mifei exuded a healthy, powerful sensuality—not seductive, but radiating such safety that just being near her felt utterly secure.

Meanwhile, Xu Wanzhi’s expression darkened.

Shen Wansui couldn’t help but stand up and let out an enthusiastic, piercing scream: “Oh my god, Xiao Xu! You’re the most Alpha Alpha I’ve ever seen!!!”

Wen Yue also popped up like a sprouting radish: “My wife is absolutely right!!”

“In fact, this kind of strength can be acquired through training regardless of whether you’re an Alpha, Omega, or Beta—it’s just a matter of time and has nothing to do with our attributes. Everyone can achieve it,” Xu Mifei said to the camera before turning and snatching the remote control from Xu Wanzhi’s hand.

She then said to Jiang Lingyu, “Sit wherever you want. Don’t mind her.”

Leaning forward, she pulled out the chair beside Lin Su and gestured for Jiang Lingyu to take a seat.

Xu Mifei had heard Xu Wanzhi’s earlier demand for Jiang Lingyu to sit beside her.

“This is a marriage show!” Xu Wanzhi was so furious she felt lightheaded, as if the air had thinned. The sight of the person before her was unbearable—just one glance made her eyes sting. She had never felt so easily provoked before.

“Of course, I know it’s a marriage show. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” Xu Mifei smiled as she leaned close to Xu Wanzhi’s ear, her words crisp and deliberate, like bombs dropping one after another. “And you—what are you yelling about?”

She pulled away just as quickly, leaving only the ringing echo in Xu Wanzhi’s ears, her head buzzing from the impact.

“Alright, alright, everyone, please take your seats! That was just a little warm-up game,” Jin Chiyu intervened at the perfect moment, microphone in hand, expertly steering the situation. She motioned for the cameras to shift slightly, giving the room some breathing space.

Once the cameras were no longer focused on them, Xu Mifei prepared to leave—only for a soft tissue to be pressed into her hand.

She glanced to the side.

Jiang Lingyu avoided her gaze, murmuring, “Wipe your sweat. And button up your collar.”

Xu Mifei had exerted herself enough that a faint sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. She let out a small “Ah,” her eyes bright with delight as she dabbed at the sweat, her other hand fumbling with the button.

The clasp, however, seemed determined to misbehave.

Jiang Lingyu watched as the same hands that had effortlessly lifted a weighted stool now struggled clumsily with the tiny fastener, failing repeatedly to secure it. Unable to bear it any longer, she reached out and fastened it for Xu Mifei.

The pale skin was neatly concealed beneath the black clasp.

Yet something had already been unleashed—like a Pandora’s box opened between her and Xu Mifei, its contents slowly spilling out.

It flowed over their bodies, seeped into their eyes, gently stirring the once-calm waters of the lake.

Xu Mifei’s hand, still holding the tissue, paused mid-motion as she stared at the person now so close to her. Her gaze traced the fan-like sweep of Jiang Lingyu’s lashes, catching the scattered light that spilled through them, searing her breath away.

This was someone she could never tire of looking at.

The clasp was fastened, but before Xu Mifei could move, the one who couldn’t endure it any longer covered her eyes with a hand.

Xu Mifei’s heart skipped—the tissue crumpled under her fingers.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jiang Lingyu murmured, her palm tingling. She hadn’t fully covered Xu Mifei’s eyes, yet under that gaze, she felt restless, uneasy. “We’re filming.”

“I should get back to work.” Xu Mifei took half a step back, tucking the tissue into her pocket before returning to her seat.

Jiang Lingyu exhaled in relief, sinking into her chair as if drained. Whatever rules Jin Chiyu announced afterward, she didn’t really hear.

The hand that had covered Xu Mifei’s eyes remained on her lap, unmoving.

Even though Xu Mifei was no longer looking at her deliberately, the lingering warmth of her gaze still clung like vines, spreading slowly across her skin.

An untimely thought rose unbidden in her heart.

These hands that could lift a chair could just as easily snap her neck.

They could tilt her chin, grip her thighs.

Those same hands could set her aflame, yet every time they carefully, gently peeled away her inhibitor patch.

Only after obtaining consent would, they press a kiss there.

Jiang Lingyu could hardly believe it—she actually wanted to know what Xu Mifei would be like on the day she stopped asking permission, stopped being gentle, stopped treading so carefully.