Forced to Pretend to Be an A and Marry the Best Actress Omega - Chapter 40

“What do you mean?”

Xu Mifei slowly lowered her phone, the drowsiness rapidly draining from her body as she glared coldly into the rearview mirror.

The driver, like an emotionless robot, repeated, “President Xu said this is the car to pick you up. You need to go straight home.”

Whether it was Xu Yiming’s or Xu Wanzhi’s orders, the plot was clearly preventing her from meeting Jiang Lingyu at this moment.

Thinking again of Xu Wanzhi’s expression and demeanor before she left, Xu Mifei cursed inwardly.

Psychopath!

Was this also part of the plan from the start?

Xu Mifei couldn’t comprehend the way these people thought.

Right now, she needed to go to the Spring Garden set to see what was happening—only then could she calm her nerves.

This unease didn’t stem from the original owner’s body, nor was it her own precautionary measures from knowing the novel’s plot. It came entirely from herself.

As someone who worked with props, she knew that delicate props had to be checked and rechecked until the very last second before use—especially those involved in intense scenes. Every precaution had to be taken.

For example, scenes involving choking, whipping, or other physically harmful actions, some dedicated actors, in pursuit of realism, would forgo acting and actually go through with it.

Her strong reaction to such props stemmed from her mentor’s experience.

Her teacher had once crafted a special white silk ribbon for a drama, meant for a supporting actress’s suicide scene. But an accident occurred.

That actress was a newcomer. To achieve a more realistic performance, she chose to actually experience the suffocation.

The prop ribbon had been tied with a slipknot, tested multiple times without issue. Yet, on the day of filming, the knot tightened into a dead knot due to the actress’s panic. Believing it wouldn’t be a problem, she didn’t call for a stop and continued acting.

By the time the crew realized she wasn’t struggling—thinking it was just good acting—it was too late.

When the actress was rushed to the hospital, she had already suffered severe brain damage from prolonged oxygen deprivation.

Even though the actress had signed a liability waiver beforehand, absolving the prop team of responsibility, her mentor disbanded the team afterward.

Had they used a material with a fail-safe—something designed to break under a certain tension—perhaps everything could have been avoided.

This was the regret her mentor carried for years.

Xu Mifei didn’t know how Spring Garden’s prop team had designed that red silk ribbon. If it could be twisted into a rope for a character to hang themselves, it must be made of highly resilient material.

A double safeguard was necessary to ensure the actor’s absolute safety. That was why Xu Mifei had to go and check.

Wasn’t Luo Wuniang’s final scene the one where she hanged herself? Xu Mifei remembered it all too clearly now.

Although she had become the original host, she wasn’t truly that person. Some things only came to mind after being triggered, like how this terrible script “Spring Garden” had been forced upon Jiang Lingyu by the original host.

Back when the original host was still “Little CEO Xu,” she must have known about Jiang Lingyu’s contract. Yet she did nothing for her, instead carelessly throwing random roles her way.

Jiang Lingyu really drew the short straw running into these two from the Xu family.

Xu Mifei couldn’t get out of the car now, and worse, neither Jiang Lingyu nor Hu Huaimeng could be reached—they’d probably already entered the film set for preparations.

Her brows furrowed tightly.

The driver seemed lifeless, only knowing to drive forward, even accelerating as if possessed. Xu Mifei knew she couldn’t waste time on this. Scrolling through her phone contacts, she found either no notes or bizarre labels like:

Annoying Pest No.1
Poor Bastard 004
Chat When Bored 12

It was hard to imagine the original host’s personal life and mental state.

The car’s FM radio, perhaps deliberately tuned for her, was playing an entertainment channel. After announcing Jiang Lingyu’s entry into the film set, it continued:

“Today, the third episode of ‘Priority of Love’ wrapped filming on Tuo Island. The show has sparked massive reactions on social media, with netizens stunned by Xu Mifei’s unexpectedly shocking side. Last night, her successful defense of the Knight card won widespread attention for earning a shared bed.”

Huh? This radio segment seemed to be live.

After returning last night, she hadn’t bothered checking online chatter. This morning had been nonstop busy too—she hadn’t even glanced at the barrage comments.

“However, viewers were disappointed. This morning, the two emerged from their room like strangers, ignoring each other with visibly sour expressions. Turns out last night was just a spectacle for netizens to revel in!”

Xu Mifei had no words. Maybe their foul moods stemmed from neither getting proper sleep? Who could smile after just one or two hours of rest? And given her own restless sleeping habits, Jiang Lingyu not kicking her on camera was already a blessing.

“Audiences are endlessly curious about the love-hate dynamics between the Xu family’s two alphas and actress Jiang. Our station has exclusively invited the show’s host, Yi Baoyou, for immediate insights! Hello, Baoyou!”

Yi Baoyou greeted everyone sweetly.

“Baoyou, listeners are buzzing about Xu Mifei. Based on what you’ve observed during filming, is she truly Jiang Lingyu’s ideal match?”

Xu Mifei nearly laughed coldly.

This radio show really knew how to pick guests—who else but Yi Baoyou? She might as well wear a sign saying, “I’m Xu Wanzhi’s lackey.” Every move Yi Baoyou made was firmly aligned with Xu Wanzhi’s interests.

Listening further was pointless. Xu Mifei considered telling the driver to turn off the radio but gave up, knowing the rigid man wouldn’t comply.

After a thoughtful pause, Yi Baoyou said, “That’s hard to answer, but I’ll say this—hasn’t anyone noticed? Jiang Lingyu is the only person who’s ever smelled Xu Mifei’s pheromones.”

Her words left even the radio host momentarily stunned.

It was only then that everyone suddenly realized—before Jiang Lingyu, no one had ever described Xu Mifei’s pheromones. Yet Jiang Lingyu had pinpointed it accurately, painting such a vivid picture.

Did they even need to ask if they were a good match? Judging by the scene Jiang Lingyu described, the compatibility of their pheromones was incredibly high—even higher than Xu Wanzhi’s.

What the hell? Yi Baoyou actually spoke up for her? What kind of scheme was she brewing now?

Xu Mifei raised a brow, surprised by Yi Baoyou’s answer.

She listened intently for a few more minutes as the radio host asked questions about the other guests. When Lin Su and He Yanzhen were mentioned, the host noted how inseparable their schedules were—wherever Lin Su went, He Yanzhen followed.

Polytechnic University. The name flashed in Xu Mifei’s memory, and she glanced up at the road sign ahead.

If they were heading to Polytechnic University, theoretically, they should be on the same road as her car right now.

Xu Mifei immediately sent Lin Su a message, then took a screenshot of the jumble of names and forwarded it to Lu Jiguang, asking her to identify which one was the director of Spring Garden.

She did all this without a word.

Soon, Lin Su replied.

What’s up, Xiao Xu? I’ve been right behind your car the whole time.

Xu Mifei quickly typed back, Teacher Lin, get close to my car in five minutes and be ready to assist. Thanks.

She looked down at her designer coat—what a shame to ruin such an expensive outfit.

“I told you to pull over. Did you hear me?” Calculating the timing, Xu Mifei spoke to the driver. “If you don’t stop, I’ll beat you up.”

The driver remained silent, coldly ignoring her, even speeding up instead.

He was an old hand at the Xu family’s service and knew full well that while the second young miss might act tough outside, she didn’t dare make a peep at home.

Xu Mifei had expected this. In one swift motion, she lunged forward from the backseat and punched the driver square in the nose. As he howled in pain, she seized the wildly swerving steering wheel with one hand.

“Reckless driving, reckless driving—say goodbye to your loved ones. Stop the car now, or I’ll drive us off the overpass and kill us both. Or I’ll just rip this steering wheel right out.”

The driver’s face turned deathly pale, his shoulders trembling like a sieve. Watching Xu Mifei steer the car in such a dangerously unstable manner without so much as a flinch—was she insane?!

He couldn’t even process her words, his mind a storm of rage and terror, until something warm trickled from his nose.

Terrified, he slammed on the brakes. Xu Mifei jerked the wheel sharply to avoid the car ahead, then punched his nose again. “I said brake, you coward.”

In the car behind them, Lin Su and He Yanzhen straightened up as they watched the erratic movements of the RV ahead.

“Something’s wrong!” Was Xu Mifei being held hostage? Lin Su glanced at the sparse messages on her phone before handing it to He Yanzhen.

For the first time, the two were in perfect sync—He Yanzhen didn’t even mock her, his expression grim. “Speed up. If anything looks off, we call the police immediately.”

But the car ahead suddenly accelerated, nearly rear-ending the vehicle in front before swerving sharply, then slowing down.

Lin Su urgently told her assistant to close the gap.

The rear door of the RV swung open, and Xu Mifei appeared in Lin Su’s line of sight.

Lin Su froze in fear. Wasn’t this driving with their lives on the line? How were they supposed to make contact?

Wasn’t this the Lin family’s car? What was she—

“What are you hesitating for?” He Yanzhen pulled Lin Su over abruptly, opening his own car door to prepare for the transfer. “You always dilly-dally like this, overthinking everything.”

The two cars drew close in an instant, while the vehicles behind them didn’t dare approach, giving Xu Mifei an opportunity.

She withdrew her hand and kicked the driver’s thigh hard, causing the van to brake sharply.

Xu Mifei got out and sprinted to Lin Su’s car in one fluid motion. Without asking any questions, He Yanzhen immediately ordered his assistant to floor the accelerator.

Lin Su stared at the bloodstains on Xu Mifei’s clothes, momentarily speechless.

“Xiao Xu, where are you headed?”

“Sorry, Teacher Lin, Sister Zhenzhen. I need to get to the film studio right now. Could you please take me there?”

He Yanzhen said, “It’s on the way. Let’s go.”

After a brief hesitation, Lin Su asked, “You didn’t… get yourself into this state just to see Lingyu, did you?”

It looked like she was fleeing some disaster. Earlier, she’d seen Xu Mifei hitting the driver, yet the car hadn’t stopped.

Although she was planning to visit the props department anyway, this was indeed a good excuse. Xu Mifei nodded. “Yes, I need to discuss something with her, but I can’t reach her now.”

Lin Su said understandingly, “You, young people are so full of energy.” Must be some lovers’ quarrel?

She recalled how both Xu Mifei and Jiang Lingyu had seemed off that morning. He Yanzhen rolled his eyes at her, and Lin Su shrugged innocently. What did I say wrong this time, oh mighty one?

Xu Mifei paid no mind. At least she’d made it out of the Xu family’s car unscathed. When He Yanzhen handed her a pack of wet wipes to clean the stains on her clothes, she finally noticed the dried bl00d droplets.

Frowning, Xu Mifei collected all the bloodied wipes into the bag, her heart heavy as if weighed down by a stone.

Things seemed far more complicated than she’d imagined. After becoming a character in the novel, the plot had begun affecting her, while she in turn was influencing the fates of other characters.

Like some instinctive rejection, after she interfered with Jiang Lingyu and Xu Wanzhi’s interactions, key plot points started accelerating prematurely—as if an invisible hand was forcefully pushing them toward their destined conclusion.

She wanted to divert to the film studio, yet a Xu family driver had resisted so fiercely that bloodshed became necessary to stop her from seeing Jiang Lingyu.

Xu Mifei wasn’t entirely sure who she could still call for help now.

Just then, Lu Jiguang’s message arrived: That “Broke Ghost Dispersing Money No.7” account is Director Wang’s from Spring Garden’s WeChat. Don’t tell me you’ve labeled all your investment projects like this?

……

Xu Mifei silently deleted all the “Broke Ghost” numbered contacts before messaging Director Wang about her visit.

The reply came swiftly—an obsequious approval, with promises to have someone waiting at the studio entrance.

Xu Mifei couldn’t help marveling at how useful an investor’s status was. Director Wang’s fawning tone made it seem like he’d enshrine her if he could.

Probably similar to the project with Jin Chiyu, only with their own funding injected could this utterly terrible drama be completed and directly queued for broadcast on satellite TV.

With the help of Lin Su and He Yanzhen, Xu Mifei arrived at the entrance of the film studio an hour later.

Xu Mifei didn’t expect Hu Huaimeng to be the one waiting for her.

“I heard from Director Wang that you were coming, so I offered to pick you up. Lingyu is filming the first half, and I happened to still be here,” Hu Huaimeng said with a smile. “Weren’t you supposed to come over for dinner at home? Why rush here now? It would’ve been better if you’d just come with us earlier.”

Xu Mifei asked keenly, “Has filming already started?”

“It has. The schedule’s a bit tight. Originally, they were supposed to film right on time, but fans were blocking the entrance today. Signing autographs took nearly an hour, and it took two teams of security guards to disperse them.”

Xu Mifei thought for a moment and understood.

Director Wang must have seen the soaring popularity from Jiang Lingyu’s latest episode and deliberately increased her screen time while also leaking her schedule to let the fans hype up the drama.

Fortunately, Hu Huaimeng’s expression remained normal, easing Xu Mifei’s worries slightly. After carefully inquiring about Jiang Lingyu’s condition, Hu Huaimeng asked curiously, “Why ask all this? Lingyu is famously dedicated to her work. No matter what happens, she always adjusts her state and delivers.”

“I need to see her first. Let me check on her.”

“You can’t,” Hu Huaimeng shook her head.

“Can’t? Director Wang said it was fine.”

“That’s Lingyu’s decision. She said these two scenes require intense focus, so the set’s been cleared. No fans or visitors are allowed during this time,” Hu Huaimeng explained. “So she doesn’t even know you’re here yet. You should wait for her in the staff lounge.”

Xu Mifei’s heart tightened again. Frowning, she asked, “I need to go to the props department. Have the props for her second scene been delivered?”

“The second scene hasn’t started yet, so of course not. Why?”

Xu Mifei sighed in relief. Maybe she was just overthinking things.

“I’ll go check first. Sister Meng, come with me.” Xu Mifei needed Hu Huaimeng to guide her—she knew the film studio’s layout better.

Hu Huaimeng had no idea what Xu Mifei was up to. She thought Xu Mifei had simply come to visit and wait for Jiang Lingyu to finish filming before heading home for dinner. She mused that Xu Mifei really cared about Jiang Lingyu, yet the moment she arrived, she headed straight for the props department instead of the set.

The Xu family really was full of unpredictable people.

She led Xu Mifei directly to the props department. Xu Mifei inspected the red silk fabric about to be used as a prop and found it was just ordinary material—nothing unusual. She pinched and turned the silk over repeatedly, examining it closely.

It was just a simple piece of silk…

Hu Huaimeng found the whole thing strange. What was going on?

Xu Mifei pulled a few thin threads from her pocket and whispered something to the props supervisor, who exclaimed in surprise, “Young Miss Xu, that’s unnecessary—it’s perfectly safe…”

Xu Mifei said, “I’ll increase your pay.”

The supervisor beamed and immediately agreed, fetching tools for Xu Mifei to work with. The colorless threads were as soft as silk and blended seamlessly into the red fabric, becoming completely invisible.

“I need you to personally deliver this prop, and don’t tell her I’m here,” Xu Mifei said as she carefully folded the red silk and handed it to Hu Huaimeng.

“Ah! Ah! So, you’re just going to wait until then?” Hu Huaimeng felt that Xu Mifei had been acting strangely since she arrived today, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason.

Seeing Xu Mifei immediately turn and head for the director’s room, Hu Huaimeng had no choice but to take the red silk and leave.

The moment Xu Mifei entered the director’s room, everyone inside, including Director Wang, stood up.

The monitor displayed Jiang Lingyu, who had just finished filming the previous scene.

Luo Wuniang’s final two scenes were emotionally charged—one was a confrontation with the antagonist, and the other was her suicide.

The story was set during the Republic of China era, a time of transition between old and new societies. Luo Wuniang, originally a poor girl sold as a concubine to the male lead’s rival, had her talents discovered by him. He taught her refined tastes and even burned her deed of sale.

Her initial despair gradually melted under his gentle care, and Luo Wuniang regained her spirit, eventually becoming a celebrated performer in the city.

But the man had only used Luo Wuniang as a pawn to gather intelligence, deceiving her repeatedly. In the end, to save himself, he coldly handed her over to the enemy officer. With all hope lost, Luo Wuniang chose suicide rather than endure humiliation.

On the screen, Jiang Lingyu sat slumped on the ground in an exquisite qipao, her chest rising and falling slightly, her expression still carrying the desolation and sorrow from the confrontation.

The dim, golden light bathed her figure, the high slit of the qipao revealing her full silhouette. The light traced her calves like soft, warm mutton-fat jade.

Jiang Lingyu was adjusting her emotions to seamlessly transition into the final scene, so she remained motionless on set.

Once she was ready, she would stand up, and the second scene would begin immediately, with the crew placing the props in the shadows.

Director Wang noticed Xu Mifei’s gaze fixed intently on Jiang Lingyu through the monitor and grew nervous. Could it be that the costume was too revealing? Well, Xu Mifei was Jiang Lingyu’s alpha—possessiveness was natural.

He was about to suggest letting Jiang Lingyu’s stylist adjust the outfit when Xu Mifei spoke: “Could I see the layout of your crew on set?”

“Huh?”

“Especially the controls for the lift platform. If possible, hand them to me.” Though Xu Mifei smiled, her tone brooked no refusal.

Just as Xu Mifei took the controls, the figure on the monitor stood up—the second scene was about to begin.

Xu Mifei’s expression instantly darkened.

Director Wang fidgeted uneasily beside her. Compared to Xu Mifei, he felt like an errand boy rather than the director.

He didn’t dare speak. The overwhelming dominance of an alpha radiated from Xu Mifei—if he uttered a single word of refusal, her pheromones might suffocate him.

Xu Mifei’s eyes followed Jiang Lingyu’s movements with slow precision.

This scene of Jiang Lingyu’s would later be hailed as the series’ defining moment. Luo Wuniang’s suicide was staged in a deep emerald qipao embroidered with gold, her body wrapped in red silk as she hung from the second-floor railing. When she leaped, the silk seemed to cradle her before her limbs went limp, her breath fading away.

Her slender frame was entwined with red silk, like a porcelain doll manipulated by unseen hands, the ribbon-like fabric woven across her body like intricate lace. The deliberately tightened red silk constricting her neck had been Luo Wuniang’s cause of death.

The dazzling chandelier light bathed her form, casting diamond-like reflections across her limbs, beautiful as some grand final curtain call.

Director Wang swallowed nervously and said, “Young Master Xu, there’s no need to rush. Xiao Jiang has always nailed her scenes in one take – she becomes whatever character she plays. She’ll perfectly embody Luo Wuniang.”

Luo Wuniang? No, what Xu Mifei saw through the monitor wasn’t Luo Wuniang—it was still Jiang Lingyu.

The indifference in her expression was Jiang Lingyu’s. The despair in her eyes was Jiang Lingyu’s. The resolve to end her own life—that, too, was Jiang Lingyu’s.

Jiang Lingyu ascended the stairs to the second floor, the red silk already in her hand. Next, she would tie it tightly around the railing and herself, then jump.

During the actual filming, the props team would be on standby with a lift platform mid-air. When the camera panned to Jiang Lingyu’s fall, the crew on the platform would move to the other side, ready to retract the silk at the director’s command to prevent accidents.

Jiang Lingyu was tying the silk.

Xu Mifei didn’t miss a single frame—until she saw Jiang Lingyu knot a flawless noose.

Before the director could even react, Xu Mifei rushed out like a gust of wind.

On set.

As Jiang Lingyu tied the red silk, her mind was eerily calm.

There weren’t many crew members present. To match the atmosphere of Luo Wuniang’s scene, the lighting team had dimmed the lights. No one would notice her looping the silk over and over.

To help her get into character, the main light followed her.

From Jiang Lingyu’s perspective, she was the only one left in this space, everything around her swallowed by darkness.

She stared downward, squeezed her eyes shut, and fastened the silk around herself the way she’d been taught.

But as she acted, she didn’t feel like Luo Wuniang—she felt like herself.

Like Luo Wuniang, she no longer held hope for anything. In the end, it was all the same—hope would only shatter.

All hope had begun when she presented as an omega, and it ended when she became one. She thought surviving the underground building ordeal meant she’d be fine, only to sign another contract.

Numbly, she tried to follow through, but then Xu Mifei appeared… Song Nian was right—her condition was severe.

Xu Mifei’s comfort had been effective. But when Xu Mifei said she didn’t want to be an alpha, that comfort turned into a rejection within her body, tormenting her relentlessly, tearing her rationality back and forth.

There would never be comfort like that again. She’d go mad eventually anyway—why bother staying sane?

She wanted it to end.

For the first time in so long, she felt light. The only thing that lingered was Xu Mifei’s voice asking, “Then what about us getting married tomorrow?”

Jiang Lingyu pressed her lips together and jumped without hesitation.

The weightlessness of the fall and the tightening constriction hit her all at once. She didn’t even feel pain—just the suffocation of stolen breath.

Then came the wrenching agony, the instinctive will to survive, the wetness of tears about to spill.

It’s almost over, almost over…

Jiang Lingyu’s consciousness began to fade, her hand about to go limp—

A buzzing sound.

What was that?

Before she could react, a pair of icy hands seized her.

“Jiang Lingyu, open your eyes and look at me.” The voice was achingly familiar, trembling uncontrollably yet unshakably firm. She called out, low and urgent, “Jiang Lingyu!”

The red silk around Jiang Lingyu’s throat snapped with a sharp sound. Her eyes flew open—and there was Xu Mifei, standing on the lift platform.

As the silk broke, Jiang Lingyu’s body lurched uncontrollably.

She was about to fall.

Xu Mifei immediately lowered the lift to its lowest point, yanking Jiang Lingyu over with a heavy pull before rolling to the side. Her back slammed against the steel railing, producing a dull thud.

Yet the person she shielded in her arms remained unharmed.

Jiang Lingyu seemed dazed, staring blankly at Xu Mifei before her—someone who had appeared as if from a dream.

She blinked several times, as though trying to dispel the illusion. Without saying a word, an inexplicable surge of bitterness welled up in her chest, spilling from her eyes.

Jiang Lingyu grabbed the controller, raising the lift back to its highest point before clutching it tightly and stepping back.

Xu Mifei instantly sensed her intention and stood up. “Jiang Lingyu, stop right there.”

“Xu Mifei, why did you come?” Jiang Lingyu gazed at her with a faint smile, her voice barely audibles before fading entirely.

Xu Mifei carefully deciphered the shape of Jiang Lingyu’s lips and abruptly took half a step forward. “Jiang Lingyu, I’ll give it to you—I’ll give it to you. You’re not Luo Wuniang.”

She had just realized what Jiang Lingyu had silently mouthed, I’m just like Luo Wuniang—there’s no hope left.

How could there be no hope? As long as Jiang Lingyu walked down with her now, every step would be hope itself.

Seeing Xu Mifei flustered and desperate before her, Jiang Lingyu actually felt the urge to smile.

But instead, she cried. Her expression must have been unsightly.

Jiang Lingyu didn’t know how to explain it to Xu Mifei.

She felt wretched—so wretched it was unbearable—because it seemed her trembling heart wasn’t just stirred by comfort alone.

This person, who had once hurt her so deeply, she no longer wanted to hate.

What was this erratic pounding in her chest called? Xu Mifei and her—it was impossible. A dead end from the start.

“You want hope? I’ll give it to you.” Seizing the moment of Jiang Lingyu’s distraction, Xu Mifei rushed forward and locked her in a tight embrace.

In that split second as she lunged to pull Jiang Lingyu back, countless thoughts raced through her mind.

How could she stop the plot from unfolding further? How could she keep Jiang Lingyu from despair? Why had following Jiang Lingyu’s lead backfired?

Why had it only driven Jiang Lingyu to become more extreme?

Was it because her character had deviated too much from the original? So, she should have remained the same spoiled, dissolute, and unfaithful scoundrel as the original protagonist?

No. That wasn’t right. She couldn’t do that. Jiang Lingyu was an omega, in a state of agitation—she needed intense comfort and physical contact to stabilize her emotions.

She had to treat her—treat her as her omega, as if they had already been marked.

In the dimness, Xu Mifei cupped Jiang Lingyu’s tear-drenched face and kissed her.