Omega, Always Wants to Mark Me - Chapter 43

“Okay,” Ming Xiaoyue said, her voice hoarse. But after those words, an awkward silence descended between them once more.

After all, they were an isolated Alpha and Omega in the same room, and they were also ex-lovers.

“I should get going,” Ming Xiaoyue said, breaking the silence.

“Mm,” Lu Jinxi replied, pressing her lips together. She wanted to ask Ming Xiaoyue to stay, but felt she had no right to.

“Oh, about the script—I’ll have Tang Boran prepare a copy for you when I get back.”

“Thank you,” Lu Jinxi said, her tone unusually distant.

“Or…” Ming Xiaoyue hesitated. In private, she could mark Lu Jinxi without restraint, but during filming…

“Hm? What is it?” Lu Jinxi asked when Ming Xiaoyue suddenly trailed off.

“Shall we rehearse our scenes? To avoid getting stuck tomorrow. Besides, I can’t actually mark you during filming.”

Lu Jinxi’s throat tightened. Now it was her turn to feel conflicted.

Sensing her hesitation, Ming Xiaoyue assumed she was uncomfortable and said, “Never mind, we can just wait until tomorrow…”

“I’m okay with it,” Lu Jinxi murmured.

“What?”

“I said I’m okay with anything. Whether you want me to stay and audition or just mark me directly, I’m fine with it,” Lu Jinxi said, her face tense as she tried to articulate her feelings for the first time.

“I hesitated because I was afraid…”

“Afraid of what?” Ming Xiaoyue asked, puzzled. Why did Lu Jinxi always act as if she would do something terrible to her? I haven’t been that harsh, have I? she thought. Apart from the reverse marking she’d done initially as revenge, everything afterward had been consensual.

She truly didn’t understand why Lu Jinxi was making such a big deal out of it.

“Afraid you’d grow to hate me,” Lu Jinxi whispered, finally admitting her fear.

“Why would you think that?” Now it was Ming Xiaoyue’s turn to be confused.

“Because during today’s filming, you seemed to despise Alphas… despise me…”

Ming Xiaoyue was momentarily speechless, her lips parting slightly as she struggled to find an answer. This question, if explored further, would lead to a very distant and painful place.

And she had no habit of tearing open old wounds for others to see, seeking their pity.

“It’s not your fault, Lu Jinxi,” Ming Xiaoyue repeated, the words sounding hollow and unconvincing.

Lu Jinxi pursed her lips and asked in a low voice, “Then what is the reason?”

Ming Xiaoyue didn’t answer, looking somewhat troubled.

“Ming Xiaoyue,” Lu Jinxi suddenly called out solemnly.

“Hmm? What is it?” Ming Xiaoyue looked at Lu Jinxi, who, for once, didn’t avert her gaze. Ming Xiaoyue felt a sense of relief.

In the past, whenever she saw Lu Jinxi cowering like dust, afraid to meet her eyes but still stealing furtive glances, Ming Xiaoyue never understood what Lu Jinxi was so afraid of.

Lu Jinxi took a deep breath, as if steeling herself, and said, “Sometimes I feel like there’s a veil of mist around you, Ming Xiaoyue. No matter how hard I try, I can’t see the real you through it.”

She exhaled slowly. “I want to get closer to you, to understand you. You say I’m always pushing too hard, but I’m afraid that if I don’t reach out, you’ll turn and leave, just like you did in our past life…”

With her deepest anxieties finally voiced, a heavy weight seemed to lift from Lu Jinxi’s heart.

Ming Xiaoyue remained silent, her expression grave.

Lu Jinxi’s voice trembled as she continued. Now that things had come to this, she could only blame herself for her past life. She had always believed she had plenty of time left, constantly telling herself, “Next time, next time I’ll go back home.”

Ming Xiaoyue was unaware that when 1988 was nominated for an international award, Lu Jinxi had waited for her at the ceremony all day. However, Ming Xiaoyue seemed to have been unable to attend due to other commitments.

The truth was, from the very beginning, the film’s chances of winning were considered slim.

Yet Lu Jinxi still felt anxious and desperate to see Ming Xiaoyue, but due to a series of unfortunate coincidences, the two always seemed to miss each other.

Sometimes, Lu Jinxi felt as if fate were mocking her, as if throughout her entire life, every time she tried to get one step closer to Ming Xiaoyue, she would inevitably be evaded.

“Ming Xiaoyue,” Lu Jinxi began, her voice heavy.

Ever since Lu Jinxi learned that her own cowardice had cost her the chance to act with Ming Xiaoyue in their previous life, the regret had been like a thorn, lodged deep in her heart from the day Ming Xiaoyue revealed the truth.

“Mm,” Ming Xiaoyue replied, her voice equally somber.

“You asked me why I didn’t participate in 1988 in our previous life. But do you know that during that nomination ceremony, I waited for you at the venue all day?”

This time, it was Ming Xiaoyue’s turn to be astonished.

“It rained that day, everywhere, both at home and abroad. I really waited for you for so long,” Lu Jinxi said, her voice tinged with a lingering memory of the gentle, persistent rain that had soaked through to the heart that day.

“I’m sorry,” Ming Xiaoyue murmured, her throat tightening. She hadn’t expected this. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to go; the film’s blockbuster success had caught the eye of an investor who wanted to work with her.

Ming Xiaoyue couldn’t afford to stop. Despite winning Best Actress twice, many still resented her, and her position remained precarious. She couldn’t afford to slow down.

As Ming Xiaoyue thought this, her gaze lowered. Though she had heard rumors of shady dealings in the industry, she had been shielded from such situations early on by the support of Tang Boran and He Tingfeng. Later, her status had earned her respectful treatment from others. The turning point came when she publicly advocated for AO equality.

Those who had once treated her with deference gradually distanced themselves, offering excuses to avoid her. So when the director of 1988 approached Ming Xiaoyue, even though she knew the second female lead was merely a foil for the first, and that Lu Jinxi had already been cast as the lead, she gritted her teeth and accepted the role.

Lu Jinxi’s unexpected refusal stunned everyone. Ming Xiaoyue stepped into the lead role and, through sheer talent, once again claimed the Best Actress award.

Yet her situation didn’t improve. After a meeting with Tang Lianchan, she sensed a growing, subtle ostracism from the industry.

So when an investor extended an olive branch, Ming Xiaoyue didn’t hesitate. She even turned down an opportunity to attend an overseas event.

In her previous life, just as Lu Jinxi had no plans to return to China, Ming Xiaoyue had no intention of developing her career abroad.

For an Omega, life would only be more challenging overseas. In China, at least, she still had room to maneuver.

That day, she sensed something was off when the investor began subtly pressuring her to drink. Fortunately, she remained vigilant.

But as her eyelids grew heavy, Ming Xiaoyue realized it was too late.

However, the investor, believing an Omega posed no real threat, hadn’t bothered to restrain her, inadvertently giving her the chance for a final counterattack.

Then came the betrayal by her best friend, Wu Yingyun. At the time, she had genuinely trusted Wu Yingyun, only to be stabbed in the back. That’s when she learned never to entrust her path to anyone else…

The story was so long that Ming Xiaoyue sometimes didn’t know how to begin, or even where to start.

But now, Ming Xiaoyue felt strongly that the woman before her had a right to know.

After all, she now knew that during her difficult days in a foreign land, someone had hoped for her well-being. Because of this, Ming Xiaoyue felt she owed Lu Jinxi an explanation.

“That day…” Ming Xiaoyue’s voice was low, and Lu Jinxi looked at her with a probing gaze.

At the crucial moment, Ming Xiaoyue found it difficult to speak again.

Boom!

The clear daytime sky suddenly cracked with thunder and lightning. Lu Jinxi glanced out the window, vaguely recalling Ming Xiaoyue mentioning in an interview that she hated rainy days, especially stormy ones.

Staring at the curtains, Lu Jinxi couldn’t help but say, “Wait, let me draw the curtains.”

Before Lu Jinxi could take another step, Ming Xiaoyue blurted out, “It’s fine, don’t bother. It’s not a big deal. It was indeed raining and thundering that day.

An investor said he was impressed with my performance in 1988 and wanted to produce a big-budget film. You probably don’t know about it because the movie was shelved due to the leads’ personal scandals.

Then… I didn’t realize the investor wanted to sleep with me.”

Lu Jinxi’s heart clenched as she listened. She had no idea Ming Xiaoyue had endured such hardships while she remained oblivious. Her expression grew grave.

“Why the solemn face?” Ming Xiaoyue asked with a wry smile. “It’s not like it was a big deal. Otherwise, the next day’s headlines would have screamed, ‘Newly Crowned Best Actress Caught in Secret Rendezvous with Powerful Tycoon.’ They always love that kind of sensationalism, don’t they?”

Ming Xiaoyue’s words trailed off as Lu Jinxi’s lips trembled, mirroring the tremor in Ming Xiaoyue’s hand beside her.

“Enough, Ming Xiaoyue,” Lu Jinxi said, her voice thick with pity. In their previous life, she had known that distance limited what she could do. But now, as Ming Xiaoyue laid bare her scars, Lu Jinxi’s hatred burned even fiercer.

Hatred for her own cowardice.

“Okay,” Ming Xiaoyue agreed, falling silent. “Don’t overthink it, Lu Jinxi. It’s not your fault. You know, sometimes I wonder… more than about the people who stabbed me in the back, I wonder why you always help me without holding grudges. Maybe it’s because I rarely received such genuine help in my past life. At first, I always suspected your motives, searching for hidden agendas behind your kindness.

I’m sorry if my suspicions hurt you…”

“Don’t say any more,” Lu Jinxi said, her voice choked with emotion. She had always sensed Ming Xiaoyue’s suspicion, but she had attributed it to her personality. She had never imagined the deep pain hidden behind Ming Xiaoyue’s facade.

“Can I hug you?” Lu Jinxi asked, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Ming Xiaoyue knew Lu Jinxi was worried about her sadness. A warmth spread through her chest, and her lips parted slightly. Before she could respond, Lu Jinxi had already stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her.

With a single embrace, Lu Jinxi could encircle Ming Xiaoyue completely. Holding Ming Xiaoyue’s slender shoulders, Lu Jinxi wondered how far she had walked alone in her previous life…

She had always sensed Ming Xiaoyue’s suspicion, but she had attributed it to her personality. She had never imagined the deep pain hidden behind Ming Xiaoyue’s facade.

“Can I hug you?” Lu Jinxi asked, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Ming Xiaoyue knew Lu Jinxi was worried about her sadness. A warmth spread through her chest, and her lips parted slightly. Before she could respond, Lu Jinxi had already stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. How far she had walked alone…

She had always sensed Ming Xiaoyue’s suspicion, but she had attributed it to her personality. She had never imagined the deep pain hidden behind Ming Xiaoyue’s facade.