Omega, Always Wants to Mark Me - Chapter 12

Ming Xiaoyue knew Lu Jinxi genuinely meant well with her suggestion, but whether in her past life or this one, the last thing she needed was someone telling her what to do.

So she flashed a sweet smile and said, “No, I’d rather stay here and keep A Jin company. Grandpa, you should rest too. Don’t worry about things here, I’ll take care of it.”

Lu Zhengqing nodded approvingly, his satisfaction with Ming Xiaoyue growing. After all, as the saying goes, “When disaster strikes, everyone flees for themselves.” Yet Ming Xiaoyue showed no such inclination.

This perfectly aligned with Lu Zhengqing’s own values. As a former soldier, he held the principles of “never abandon, never give up” in particularly high regard.

“Alright, alright, then you stay here and keep A Xi company. Lu Jinxi, you better not bully her!” Lu Zhengqing said gently to Ming Xiaoyue, but his tone turned stern as he addressed Lu Jinxi.

“Mm,” Lu Jinxi replied calmly, seemingly accustomed to the old man’s sudden shifts in demeanor. “I understand.”

“Then this old man won’t bother you any longer,” Lu Zhengqing said, turning to leave.

But as soon as the door closed, an awkward silence fell between the two women. Ming Xiaoyue’s sweet smile vanished, and Lu Jinxi nervously chewed on her lower lip.

Ming Xiaoyue picked up an apple and began peeling it. Seeing this, Lu Jinxi quickly said, “Ming Xiaoyue, you really don’t have to do this.”

Lu Jinxi assumed Ming Xiaoyue was putting on a show for Lu Zhengqing’s benefit, but she knew that returning to filming was actually the best option for Ming Xiaoyue right now.

Unexpectedly, the apple spun deftly in Ming Xiaoyue’s slender fingers, the peel coming off in one unbroken strip.

After peeling the apple, Ming Xiaoyue immediately offered it to Lu Jinxi. “Here,” she said. “It’s fine. If you go back now, the cameras will just hound you with questions. Are you sure you don’t want to coordinate our stories first?”

Lu Jinxi took the apple, finally realizing she had completely forgotten about that aspect. She glanced at Ming Xiaoyue, who looked completely in control, and understood just how fiercely determined this woman was.

In her previous life, after Lu Jinxi inherited her family’s estate, she not only resolved her own situation abroad but also wanted to help Ming Xiaoyue.

Unexpectedly, Lu Jinxi then discovered that Ming Xiaoyue had no agency or studio affiliation. She was drifting through the entertainment industry alone.

For an Omega, Ming Xiaoyue’s resilience was truly remarkable. Later, after reaching the pinnacle of her career, she spearheaded an Omega rights movement.

Even after her death, when Lu Jinxi rushed back from abroad, countless lilies adorned her tombstone, sent by Omegas from all corners of the world.

In her previous life, Ming Xiaoyue was a thorn in the side and a thorn in the eye of powerful Alphas. Yet her undeniable talent made her untouchable.

She had always been fiercely resilient, thriving like a sunflower, and no one could ever crush her.

Thinking of this, Lu Jinxi lowered her gaze, as if unable to meet such dazzling brilliance. She knew that since Ming Xiaoyue had brought this up, she must already have a plan.

Lu Jinxi murmured, “So, how do you plan to explain this to the public?”

Ming Xiaoyue had peeled herself another apple, she took a bite, realizing she hadn’t eaten since the dinner the previous night.

“Hmm, it’s simple,” Ming Xiaoyue said between bites. “I’ll just say Luo Hong tried to pressure me into a ‘private arrangement’ but accidentally entered your room instead.”

“Mm,” Lu Jinxi agreed without objection.

Silence fell between them again. After a moment, Lu Jinxi suddenly asked, “But there’s one problem, isn’t there?”

“What’s that?” Ming Xiaoyue asked, having finished her apple. She grabbed a tissue from the bedside table to wipe her hands and pulled out her phone to order takeout.

“Our room passwords are different. How will we explain that if reporters ask?”

“Oh,” Ming Xiaoyue replied, not even looking up from her phone. Her tone suddenly turned icy, and the atmosphere in the room shifted. “If they ask about that… hm, I’m actually curious about something myself, Lu Jinxi. Why is your hotel room password my birthday?”

After Ming Xiaoyue’s words, Lu Jinxi fell into an uncharacteristic silence. Beneath the covers, where Ming Xiaoyue couldn’t see, Lu Jinxi clenched her hand tightly.

Though Ming Xiaoyue’s gaze remained fixed elsewhere, the oppressive atmosphere around her felt increasingly invasive.

Lu Jinxi felt the pressure intensify. Having grown accustomed to using her birthday as all her passwords, she had found the hotel room’s original code awkward on the first day of her rebirth and simply changed it to Ming Xiaoyue’s birthday.

Yesterday, when she suddenly went into heat, she had told Ming Xiaoyue the password, fearing it might cause her concern. She had forgotten that habits can be fatal.

Her throat dry and scratchy, Lu Jinxi desperately wanted to evade Ming Xiaoyue’s probing questions.

“Do you want anything to eat? Maybe just some porridge? Hmm?”

Unexpectedly, Ming Xiaoyue abruptly dropped the subject and asked Lu Jinxi about food.

Lu Jinxi cautiously glanced over and noticed the food delivery app open on Ming Xiaoyue’s phone. So that’s what she had been busy with earlier.

“Anything is fine,” Lu Jinxi murmured, her throat bobbing slightly.

“Okay, let’s go with porridge. You’ve just had surgery, so something light would be best,” Ming Xiaoyue said, placing the order. She added, “Any dietary restrictions?”

“None.”

“Alright, then shrimp porridge it is. Sound good?”

“Yes, thank you. How much do I owe you? I’ll pay you back later,” Lu Jinxi said, reaching for her phone under the pillow.

She really wasn’t used to owing favors, especially to Ming Xiaoyue.

Ming Xiaoyue waved it off casually. “Oh, it’s nothing. Besides, you’re in the hospital because of me.”

Lu Jinxi bit her lip, conflicted. She knew deep down that her hospitalization had nothing to do with Ming Xiaoyue.

“I…”

“Hmm? So, have you made up your mind yet?” Ming Xiaoyue suddenly asked again.

“Made up my mind about what?” Lu Jinxi looked genuinely confused.

Ming Xiaoyue’s lips curled into a slight smile as she finally deigned to look at Lu Jinxi, but her eyes were filled with mockery. Her voice turned icy. “Decided how you’re going to deceive me this time, Lu Jinxi. This is the second time today. Oh, wait—”

Ming Xiaoyue paused, pinching her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s been many times already. After all, I can’t tell the truth from the lies in every word you say.”

Lu Jinxi listened to Ming Xiaoyue’s words, avoiding her scrutinizing gaze. She lowered her eyes, her long lashes concealing all emotion.

Her face was already solemn, rarely showing any hint of a smile. Now, wrapped in an unknown emotion, her icy features radiated a palpable desolation that chilled anyone who looked at her.

But Ming Xiaoyue, who had navigated life alone for years, had seen every kind of person. She simply observed Lu Jinxi’s sorrow with detached indifference, making no attempt to empathize.

“Prejudice is a mountain in life, Ming Xiaoyue,” Lu Jinxi said gravely. “Right now, would you believe anything I say?”

Ming Xiaoyue didn’t answer, continuing to stare at Lu Jinxi, waiting for her to continue.

As expected, Lu Jinxi soon spoke again: “If I told you I set the room password to your birthday because I like you…

Ming Xiaoyue, I’ll say it again: I don’t want my feelings to burden you. If using your birthday as the password truly bothers you, then I apologize.”

“Yes, it does bother me,” Ming Xiaoyue said without a trace of sympathy. “Lu Jinxi, I will never like you, so there’s no point in doing these meaningless things.”

“Mm, I know,” Lu Jinxi replied, showing no surprise and accepting the statement with calm indifference. Yet this very composure only drew a cold sneer from Ming Xiaoyue.

“Lu Jinxi,” Ming Xiaoyue finally couldn’t resist saying, “You always use your ‘feelings’ for me as a shield, but do you really like me? Hmm? Sometimes, when people repeat a lie often enough, they start to believe it themselves.”

Lu Jinxi didn’t refute Ming Xiaoyue’s accusation, just as she had known before that Ming Xiaoyue would never belong to anyone, any Alpha.

But in this life, when Ming Xiaoyue repeatedly told her there was no possibility between them, Lu Jinxi’s heart, which should have been numb, still ached.

Beneath her lowered eyelids, beneath her sorrowful gaze, Lu Jinxi secretly believed that even another lifetime wouldn’t change things—at least not for her. She seemed destined to always watch Ming Xiaoyue’s retreating figure…

As Lu Jinxi thought this, her face trembled slightly, but her rational mind reminded her: At least Ming Xiaoyue is still alive, isn’t she?

Ming Xiaoyue didn’t expect an answer. After speaking, she continued scrolling through her phone, the two women sitting like familiar strangers.

The takeout arrived shortly after. Ming Xiaoyue’s mood lifted slightly as they ate lunch in silence. Afterward, feeling drowsy, she curled up on the sofa and fell asleep.

She hadn’t slept well the previous night either. Though she had managed to doze off after Lu Jinxi left, her dreams were haunted by Luo Hong pressing down on her. She screamed, but no one came to her rescue.

She woke up in a cold sweat, having slept for less than an hour. She watched the sky gradually lighten, then heard movement at the door—Lu Jinxi had returned.

Seeing Ming Xiaoyue already fast asleep on the sofa, Lu Jinxi quietly got out of bed. She resolved to speak with the doctor again; after all, she had promised Ming Xiaoyue she would help her debut.

This might be the only thing she could do for Ming Xiaoyue right now. Once everything settled, Lu Jinxi would once again face her solitary life.

Yet, as she thought this, her feet had unconsciously carried her to the sofa. She lowered her head slightly, gazing at Ming Xiaoyue’s peaceful face in sleep. A faint smile tugged at her lips. At least she was still here.