Omega, Always Wants to Mark Me - Chapter 11

The doctor finished speaking, sensed the awkward atmosphere, and tactfully left. Ming Xiaoyue bit her lip, wondering how to explain the situation to Lu Zhengqing.

Suddenly, her phone rang, breaking the silence. She gave Lu Zhengqing a small, apologetic nod and said, “I need to take this call.”

Lu Zhengqing didn’t object, merely nodding stiffly with a cold expression.

Ming Xiaoyue walked to the far end of the corridor to answer the call. As soon as she answered, a barrage of angry words erupted from the other end.

“Ming Xiaoyue! What are you and Lu Jinxi up to?! Huh?! You managed to get yourselves hospitalized while filming a music video?! Are you even coming back to training?! If you don’t come back today, don’t bother coming back ever again!”

The caller hung up abruptly after the inexplicable outburst, leaving Ming Xiaoyue alone by the window. A gentle breeze stirred her hair, obscuring the expression in her eyes.

Unexpectedly, when she returned, Lu Zhengqing had already entered the hospital room. The bodyguard standing at the door relayed Lu Zhengqing’s message with a blank face: “The boss said to come in directly.”

“Mm,” Ming Xiaoyue replied calmly, already strategizing how to negotiate with Lu Zhengqing. Though she had maintained her composure in her previous life when dealing with figures like him, she knew she was in the wrong this time.

Unexpectedly, when she pressed the door lock and entered the hospital room, Lu Jinxi was already awake. Lu Zhengqing’s stern expression had softened; instead, he gazed at her with a gentle smile as she entered.

Ming Xiaoyue walked over and stopped a few meters away, murmuring, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you saying?” Lu Zhengqing said, patting the seat beside him. “Xiao Yue, isn’t it? Sit down. Let’s talk.”

Ming Xiaoyue glanced at Lu Jinxi, who maintained a cold expression but subtly nodded, signaling that she could approach.

Hesitating for a moment, Ming Xiaoyue finally walked over and sat down.

Lu Zhengqing looked at her with paternal warmth and was about to speak when Lu Jinxi suddenly interjected.

“Grandfather, could you help me handle the girl group situation?”

“Hmph,” Lu Zhengqing scoffed coldly. “Just your ‘Hopeful Talk’—that cheap act of selling smiles and dances.”

“You promised me just now,” Lu Jinxi retorted.

“Alright, alright,” Lu Zhengqing said, rising to his feet. “Treat Xiao Yue well. Don’t bully her.”

Ming Xiaoyue stood beside them, slightly bewildered. Though the remark was morally questionable, it was undeniably true. Since her rebirth, she had to admit, she had been the one bullying Lu Jinxi.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Ming Xiaoyue glanced at Lu Jinxi, bracing herself for accusations of her misdeeds. Instead, Lu Jinxi’s lips curved into a faint, inexplicable smile as she murmured, “Mm, I won’t bully you.”

Lu Zhengqing harrumphed and left.

As soon as the door closed, Ming Xiaoyue couldn’t contain herself any longer. “So, what exactly did you tell Grandpa?” she asked.

Lu Jinxi seemed to have no intention of hiding anything. “I told him we’re together,” she replied directly. “That I pursued you for a long time, and you finally agreed.”

Ming Xiaoyue’s lips twitched, her disdain unmistakable.

“I’m sorry,” Lu Jinxi blurted out, “but I’m afraid my grandfather will cause you trouble if we don’t do this. And…”

Her gaze suddenly locked onto Ming Xiaoyue, her eyes burning with sincerity as she solemnly vowed, “I promise to protect you and ensure your successful debut. When the time comes, I guarantee…”

But then, inexplicably, she choked on her words. Ming Xiaoyue had never noticed before, but now, studying Lu Jinxi closely, she realized even Lu Jinxi could nervously clutch the bedsheets.

“I’ll try not to bother you,” Lu Jinxi mumbled, turning her head away. “Just say whatever you need to say.”

“I do have something to ask,” Ming Xiaoyue said without hesitation. “Why, Lu Jinxi?”

Her eyes fixed intently on Lu Jinxi as she pressed, “Lu Jinxi, look at me. Why are you doing all this for me?”

Ming Xiaoyue realized she didn’t truly understand Lu Jinxi—or rather, she didn’t understand the Lu Jinxi before her now.

Why had she insisted on being paired as a CP with Lu Jinxi in the past? And why, in her previous life, had she impulsively confessed her feelings? There were so many unanswered questions.

It was like trying to solve elementary school math problems in high school—you’d think, “Anyone could do this,” yet you couldn’t understand why you struggled so much with them back then, no matter how hard you studied.

Ming Xiaoyue found herself in a similar predicament. She hadn’t felt her heart flutter in years. After navigating the entertainment industry for so long, she’d forgotten what had made her heart race in the first place.

As a result, she couldn’t comprehend Lu Jinxi’s actions.

But when she met Lu Jinxi’s sincere, burning gaze, a flicker of emotion stirred within her, causing her resolve to waver.

She heard the girl speak.

“Because I love you, Ming Xiaoyue.”

Her voice carried no hesitation, and her eyes were filled with longing. Even Ming Xiaoyue, who had risen to become Best Actress in her previous life, couldn’t detect any trace of acting in Lu Jinxi’s expression.

At that moment, Ming Xiaoyue realized that unless Lu Jinxi was a genius in acting, such genuine love would be impossible to fake.

Even Ming Xiaoyue herself had to admit her helplessness, though she still needed to make her position clear.

“But I don’t like you anymore, Lu Jinxi,” Ming Xiaoyue said solemnly, her voice calm and devoid of emotion, as if she had truly returned to her youth and was speaking those words to Lu Jinxi for the first time.

In that moment, all the resentment in Ming Xiaoyue’s heart vanished completely. She suddenly felt cheapened, realizing that the hatred she had buried deep within her had been nothing more than a consequence of Lu Jinxi’s constant presence abroad in their previous life. She had never had the chance to voice her feelings, and so, fueled by her youthful insecurity, regret, and a desire to blame Lu Jinxi entirely, she had clung to that resentment until now.

But after today, Ming Xiaoyue gazed through Lu Jinxi’s eyes, her gaze drifting vaguely behind her, and resolved to sever all ties with Lu Jinxi, vowing to keep their lives separate.

“Mm,” Lu Jinxi replied.

Unexpectedly, Lu Jinxi didn’t press further, accepting the reason with remarkable composure.

“Aren’t you curious?” Ming Xiaoyue countered, her tone questioning. Lu Jinxi’s demeanor showed none of the signs of someone who loved her.

“No, I’m not curious. I simply wanted to tell you that I like you, to let you know that somewhere in this world, there’s someone who loves you. I can’t have you, but only because you don’t like me. There’s no need to force anything.”

Lu Jinxi’s words, so philosophical, inexplicably touched a soft spot in Ming Xiaoyue’s heart, causing her gaze toward Lu Jinxi to soften slightly.

Lu Jinxi, seemingly relieved, continued, “If I can accept it, you shouldn’t worry about it either. But I hope you’ll continue to pretend to be my CP until I’m eliminated. It benefits both of us. If anything makes you uncomfortable, just tell me directly. I won’t force you.”

Ming Xiaoyue fell silent. For now, Lu Jinxi was indeed the best choice. She had connections, and their CP was wildly popular—a win-win situation.

Yet Ming Xiaoyue didn’t immediately agree. Though she appeared to hold all the cards, she knew Lu Jinxi was subtly pulling the strings.

Having already reached the pinnacle in her previous life, Ming Xiaoyue deeply resented this feeling. She merely gave a noncommittal reply: “Hmm, I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Lu Jinxi said without pressing further.

A comfortable silence settled between them. Sunlight streamed through the window into the room, and a gentle breeze stirred the air, creating a serene, timeless atmosphere.

In her previous life, Ming Xiaoyue had been constantly shuttling between film sets, and it had been a long time since she had enjoyed such a tranquil moment.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Lu Zhengqing finally stormed in, shattering the peaceful atmosphere.

“Hmph! We’ve cleared things up, but they’re still demanding you record a video to verify the situation. And that Luo guy—the one who was exposed for seducing Omegas—his bail has been revoked, and he’s now in police custody. You don’t need to worry.”

Lu Zhengqing rattled off the information in a flurry.

“Mm,” Lu Jinxi replied calmly.

“Hmph!” Lu Zhengqing snorted coldly, looking like he was about to have a heart attack.

Fortunately, Ming Xiaoyue stepped in to smooth things over. “Thank you, Mr. Lu…”

Before she could finish the honorific, Lu Jinxi subtly tugged at her fingertip, out of Lu Zhengqing’s line of sight.

Ming Xiaoyue immediately corrected herself. “Thank you for your help, Grandpa. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

Lu Zhengqing’s expression instantly softened into a smile. “No problem at all,” he said to Ming Xiaoyue. “It was just a minor matter. But about that Director Gan from your side—she’s become quite famous lately, a big shot in the industry, and doesn’t give me much face. You’ll still need to rush back to record the video eventually.”

“Mm,” Ming Xiaoyue agreed readily. But then, glancing at Lu Jinxi, she asked, “Lu Jinxi, are you coming back with us?”

“She—hmph—spends the whole day neglecting her company to…”

“Grandpa,” Lu Jinxi interrupted, her voice tinged with exasperation. “We already agreed. Anyway, I’m tired. If there’s nothing else, let’s take A-Yue home first.”

“Hmph! Fine! Oh, and the doctor said the IV drip should be enough. Keep an eye on yourself!”

“Mm,” Lu Jinxi replied, her tone still icy.

“Let’s go, Ming Xiaoyue,” Lu Zhengqing said, his demeanor instantly shifting to a warm, friendly one. The sudden change left Ming Xiaoyue speechless. She finally understood why Lu Jinxi was such a natural actress.

It’s all in the genes, she thought. Such powerful genetics… I’m simply not worthy.

Despite her limited sense of morality, Ming Xiaoyue couldn’t deny her role in Lu Jinxi’s hospitalization. She was about to offer to stay when Lu Jinxi spoke first.

“Go ahead,” Lu Jinxi said. “A few extra hours of screen time can make all the difference.”