Omega, Always Wants to Mark Me - Chapter 35

As the conversation reached this point, it was Wen Hongyu’s turn to perform. Her position was perfectly centered, ensuring she wouldn’t appear when the audience’s attention was waning, nor too early, which might lead to a lackluster performance.

The two women straightened their posture. Wen Hongyu, who had always followed closely behind Tang Jinshu, was rumored to be her childhood sweetheart. They were considered one of the most passionately shipped couples in the group.

After all, even the closest friends couldn’t guarantee being paired together every time they formed a team. Yet these two always managed to be together. Even Song Wanwen and Wen Yifan had only met during their third team-up.

However, everyone present knew this was impossible. As an Omega and the daughter of the Tang Family, Tang Jinshu’s value was immeasurable. While Wen Hongyu’s family wasn’t poor, she was undeniably a Beta.

Ming Xiaoyue watched Wen Hongyu’s performance, which was at best above average, far from top-tier. Yet her thoughts drifted back to the past.

In her previous life, Wen Hongyu had died in a stage accident. After the girl group disbanded, she went solo, performing at various promotional events. Tragically, she fell from a high platform during one such performance.

The incident had sparked a heated debate at the time, but after Ming Xiaoyue finished filming her scenes, all news about her vanished instantly, as if everything had dissipated like a fleeting breeze.

If it weren’t for Ming Xiaoyue’s close friendship with Xi Ruoqiong and the memorial post she saw on social media, she would have thought she was hallucinating.

By the time Ming Xiaoyue regained her senses, Wen Hongyu had already finished her performance. It was a standard, by-the-book routine that should have earned her a respectable number of votes. However, on the giant screen, the votes surged wildly upward as if they were free for the taking.

When the final tally froze at 20,000, the audience was visibly surprised. Solo performances typically garnered fewer votes than group competitions.

In group competitions, the combined fan bases of all members could easily exceed tens of thousands. But in solo performances, the votes came solely from the individual artist’s own fan base.

Wen Hongyu’s vote count was absurdly high. Song Wanwen noticed it too, and as the four women exchanged glances, their hearts skipped a beat. It seemed the production team had no intention of concealing their favoritism this time.

Following Wen Hongyu’s performance was Tang Jinshu’s. Having genuinely trained in dance and possessing a unique charisma, Tang Jinshu’s performance was highly anticipated.

Tang Jinshu might look like a porcelain doll, but her dances possessed a unique charm.

By the time she finished her performance, the votes on the big screen were still surging abnormally, even pausing at 25,000 and threatening to break 30,000.

“Something’s wrong,” Ming Xiaoyue murmured to Lu Jinxi beside her, having turned her head at some point.

“Mm,” Lu Jinxi replied, her voice heavy. Yet inwardly, she was increasingly considering the idea of spending money to pave the way to victory. It wasn’t that she doubted Ming Xiaoyue’s or her own abilities, but in such unpredictable situations, it was best to have a backup plan.

Ming Xiaoyue’s words snapped her out of her thoughts. “Alright, it’s almost my turn. Can you control your pheromones now?”

“Y-yes, I can,” Lu Jinxi stammered, her face flushing slightly at discussing such a sensitive topic in a crowd. Her hand instinctively moved toward the back of her neck.

But Ming Xiaoyue caught her wrist mid-motion, whispering, “Don’t touch it. There are cameras everywhere. If they misinterpret that, it could cause trouble.”

“Mm, okay,” Lu Jinxi replied, awkwardly lowering her hand.

“Alright, I’ll go get ready. See you soon,” Ming Xiaoyue murmured, a slight smile playing on her lips as she sensed Lu Jinxi’s flustered pheromones.

Lu Jinxi belatedly realized she had been teased, having clearly detected a momentary surge of pleasure in Ming Xiaoyue’s pheromones.

“Good luck,” Lu Jinxi replied.

“Thanks,” Ming Xiaoyue said with a smile before leaving.

Just then, Song Wanwen leaned in and whispered, “Don’t you think today’s vote count seems off?”

Lu Jinxi glanced around cautiously before replying in a hushed tone, “Yeah, A-Yue and I were just talking about that.”

“Is A-Yue okay? She’s performing first, right?” Song Wanwen asked, her face etched with worry.

“She should be fine. Let’s just wait and see. Even if they’re suppressing our votes, they wouldn’t drop us below the top 25, would they?”

Lu Jinxi’s assessment was objective. No matter how much the show tried to suppress their votes, they wouldn’t be able to push them down to the bottom ranks.

The contestant before Ming Xiaoyue faltered badly. She missed the rhythm within the first thirty seconds and her performance continued to unravel. At the one-minute mark, she chose to withdraw.

Ming Xiaoyue took the stage, and Lu Jinxi involuntarily straightened her posture, placing her hands demurely on her knees. Her face was tense and serious; anyone watching would have thought she was the one about to perform.

As the music began, Ming Xiaoyue launched into an exceptionally spirited dance. Her opening was flawless, perfectly synchronized with the rhythm, and the rest of her performance flowed smoothly.

But when the music stopped and she struck her final pose, the voting began. Initially, the votes surged wildly upward as expected, but around 5,000, the increase slowed to a crawl.

Lu Jinxi’s face tightened as she watched the votes creep upward, eventually stalling at 8,000. While not a low score, the number was clearly suspicious.

Ming Xiaoyue bowed stiffly and left the stage, her expression strained. The audience, sensing something amiss with the voting system, erupted into murmurs and whispers.

As soon as Ming Xiaoyue exited the stage, Lu Jinxi stood up and turned to Song Wanwen beside her. “I’m going to the restroom,” she said. “If anything comes up, just come find me.”

“Okay,” Song Wanwen replied.

Lu Jinxi hurried out of the dressing room, but instead of heading to the restroom, she slipped past the staff and made her way backstage.

As expected, while Ming Xiaoyue was dismantling the recording equipment, a group of staff members sent by the Production Team had already approached her. They surrounded her, their intentions unclear.

Ming Xiaoyue’s face was cold as she frowned at the Assistant Director leading the group, her expression frosty. Finally, she spoke coldly, “I want an explanation.”

“Miss Ming, as an Omega, it’s not really appropriate for you to continue, is it? What do you say? If you voluntarily withdraw now, the Production Team will compensate you later,” the Assistant Director said, pushing the document closer to her. The surrounding staff seemed oblivious to the bullying unfolding before them.

Ming Xiaoyue stood her ground, refusing to speak.

“Miss Ming, you can’t fight the system. You know the Tang Family backs this show. Besides…”

Before the Assistant Director could finish his threat, Lu Jinxi had already strode up behind Ming Xiaoyue and snatched the document from his hand.

“She won’t sign it,” Lu Jinxi stated tersely, a wave of relief washing over her. Thank goodness I arrived in time.

“Miss Lu…” The Assistant Director was clearly taken aback by Lu Jinxi’s sudden return.

“Does someone really have to leave?” Lu Jinxi asked, turning to the Assistant Director.

The Assistant Director remained silent.

“Then can I go?”

“No!” Ming Xiaoyue snapped, cutting Lu Jinxi off before she could finish.

“I-I’ll ask the Director,” Lu Jinxi stammered. Perhaps overwhelmed by Lu Jinxi’s Alpha pheromones, many Alphas in the room instinctively recoiled.

“Alright,” Lu Jinxi said, already taking Ming Xiaoyue’s hand from the crowd. Before leaving, she couldn’t resist turning back to ask, “Excuse me, was all this Miss Tang’s doing?”

The Assistant Director hesitated before finally replying, “I’m sorry, I can’t disclose that.”

“I understand,” Lu Jinxi said calmly.

“Assistant Director…” A nearby staff member began, remembering that the Assistant Director had received the call that day. Knowing Lu Jinxi’s identity, he was reluctant to offend her.

“Forget it,” the Assistant Director interrupted. “We’ll discuss it later.”

“Are you alright?” Lu Jinxi asked, stopping abruptly just after leaving the backstage area.

Several passing staff members paused involuntarily, glancing at the two figures in the corridor.

“It’s okay. Let’s go to the stairwell first. Too many eyes here,” Ming Xiaoyue suggested, her steps heavy. She couldn’t recall ever offending Tang Jinshu.

Lu Jinxi hurried ahead to lead the way. As soon as they entered the stairwell, as if sensing Ming Xiaoyue’s confusion, she said, “It wasn’t Tang Jinshu.”

“Hmm? What?” Ming Xiaoyue, lost in thought, snapped back to attention.

Lu Jinxi glanced at Ming Xiaoyue, confirming she was unharmed, before exhaling in relief. “I mean Tang Jinshu wasn’t the one harassing you.”

When Lu Jinxi had approached the group earlier, she had detected a sharp, artificial Alpha pheromone scent, more like a synthetic version. Unsure, she instinctively suppressed it with her own pheromones.

“Then who was it?” Ming Xiaoyue asked, puzzled. She had assumed the most likely explanation was a clash of attributes—both being Omegas—leading to the targeting. Of course, it was also possible Lu Jinxi and the others would face similar threats later.

Lu Jinxi hesitated, unsure how to answer. Telling the truth would reveal her rebirth, a secret she wasn’t ready to share.

“Hmm?” Ming Xiaoyue keenly sensed the sudden shift in Lu Jinxi’s pheromones—a fleeting wave of anxiety, panic, and a complex mix of emotions. Her curiosity deepened.

“It’s nothing. Let’s talk after the competition. I’ll go tell Song Wanwen to be ready to assist Wen Yifan when he comes off the field.”

Perhaps Lu Jinxi was feeling too guilty. Before she could take another step, Ming Xiaoyue grabbed her arm and pulled her back. The sudden force nearly sent Lu Jinxi crashing into Ming Xiaoyue, but she instinctively braced herself against the wall.

“Lu Jinxi, what’s really going on…?” In that instant, Ming Xiaoyue’s familiar unease and agitation resurfaced, just like during the early days after her rebirth.

Beyond any lingering hope, she still felt a primal fear of this unnatural situation, terrified that everything might be nothing more than a fleeting vision from before her death—a mere dream.

“A Jin!” The door burst open, and Song Wanwen froze, taking in the scene. She hastily retreated, stammering, “Sorry, sorry! Carry on, you guys… you…”

“It’s nothing. Come in!” Ming Xiaoyue’s voice was icy as she shoved Lu Jinxi away from her.

When Song Wanwen entered, Lu Jinxi awkwardly rubbed the tip of her nose, and the atmosphere grew tense.

“What’s up?” Ming Xiaoyue finally asked.

“Oh, right, A Jin, when did you offend Tang Jinshu?” Song Wanwen inquired.

The two women frowned. Lu Jinxi replied, “I haven’t offended her.”

“Then why did Tang Jinshu just come looking for you?” Song Wanwen asked, finding it strange. After all, Miss Tang of the Tang Family always shared a room with Wen Hongyu, even during filming.

She ignored anyone who tried to curry favor with her. In Song Wanwen’s memory, Lu Jinxi had never been on the same team as her, and they had barely exchanged glances. So when Tang Jinshu approached Lu Jinxi earlier, Song Wanwen was startled.

“It’s nothing. I’ll handle it later. What’s the situation now?” Lu Jinxi asked, more concerned about the production team’s coercion of Ming Xiaoyue.

Song Wanwen hesitated before turning to Ming Xiaoyue. “Yang Yuting also performed. She got 20,000 votes. The production team might really be manipulating the results.”