The Gorgeous Omega Came to Seduce Me [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 7

Ji Liao waited until the sky began to lighten at dawn before closing her eyes.

Mu Shenshen’s breathing was soft and steady—normally, it would have been perfect white noise for sleep. Yet Ji Liao couldn’t rest well and opened her eyes again after barely an hour.

Mu Shenshen was still asleep on the bed. In slumber, she appeared much more composed, her beautiful features carrying a hint of cool detachment, so flawless that one couldn’t help but trace them with their gaze.

Ji Liao crouched by the bedside for a while, silently watching Mu Shenshen’s sleeping face.

In the end, her heart softened, and she didn’t bring up what had happened the night before. Still, she truly didn’t want to stay in this bedroom any longer.

Ji Liao stood up, walked to the coat rack, picked up the clothes she had chosen the day before, freshened up briefly, locked the door behind her, and left the rented apartment.

Summer in City C was long and scorching. The streets bustled with pedestrians dressed in bright, colorful outfits, all hurrying along. Ji Liao, wearing a plain white T-shirt and light-washed blue skinny jeans, sat on the second floor of a Cantonese teahouse, her expression indifferent as she gazed at the square below.

Her youthful features and outfit made her look like an innocent college student, yet her demeanor was serene, as cool and detached as snow falling during an unseasonable chill—refreshing but not cold.

Seated in an armchair in the private room, Ji Liao had already drawn the attention of several waitstaff within half an hour, who discreetly peeked at her through the gaps in the door curtain.

Ji Liao remained oblivious.

She had chosen this place precisely because of its privacy and higher price point. Though she had rarely shown her face publicly since entering the entertainment industry, she was currently entangled in a major scandal and needed to be cautious.

She hated all unplanned troubles.

“Good grief, why pick a place like this? Took me forever to find you.”

While Ji Liao was lost in thought, a pair of slender hands pulled open the door to the private room. A woman in a perfectly tailored silver-gray business suit and pointed high heels strode in.

Her short hair grazed her ears, her eyeliner was sharp, and her lips were painted a bold red. The moment she stepped inside, her commanding presence filled the entire room.

Ji Liao glanced at her indifferently and gestured to the seat opposite. “Had lunch yet?”

“Lunch? Pfft,” the woman rolled her eyes dramatically and walked over, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, leaving a faint trail of rose scent in her wake. “Just finished reviewing case files. I’m starving.”

Zhou Xingyun was a rose-scented Alpha, assertive both in and out of the courtroom.

Ji Liao expertly ignored Zhou Xingyun’s irritation, summoned a waiter, ordered a few more dishes, and reminded them about the snacks she had previously requested.

As Ji Liao placed the order, Zhou Xingyun sat across from her, picking up the teahouse’s tiny teacup—no larger than a chess piece—and downing three or four cups in quick succession.

Only after quenching her thirst did Zhou Xingyun have the energy to complain, frowning. “Next time, can you not pick a restaurant where one dish has to be split into three servings?”

A waiter standing nearby apologized awkwardly, “I’m sorry, ma’am. Would you like a larger teacup?”

Zhou Xingyun didn’t reply, merely waving a hand dismissively.

The waiter hesitated, unsure how to continue.

Zhou Xingyun naturally had a stern face, and when she wasn’t speaking or smiling, it could be quite intimidating.

Ji Liao smoothly handed the menu back to the waiter and said, “Just these additions for now. And please bring her a bigger cup. Thank you. “The waiter hurried away with the menu in hand.

Ji Liao finally picked up her teacup and took a sip, gazing at Zhou Xingyun through the fragrant steam before saying leisurely, “Your usual pace is too fast. You should slow down occasionally.”

Zhou Xingyun lifted her eyelids coolly, staring at Ji Liao in silence for a moment.

Unfazed, Ji Liao continued drinking her tea and reading the newspaper as if completely unaware. After a few seconds of tense silence, Zhou Xingyun reluctantly gave in, her shoulders slumping as her dagger-sharp gaze softened into helplessness.

“I really can’t with you. How can you stay so calm when something this big has happened?” Zhou Xingyun propped her forehead on one hand.

Flipping through the educational pamphlet provided by the teahouse, Ji Liao responded casually, “Hmm, it’s not that bad.”

Zhou Xingyun was momentarily speechless, then resentfully picked up a piece of sweet cake from the table. “I genuinely wonder what you’d consider an emergency.”

Ji Liao smiled but didn’t answer.

Seeing Ji Liao remain silent, Zhou Xingyun’s frustration flared again. She itched to personally grab Ji Liao’s head and teach her how to fight back—though she’d said as much many times before, and Ji Liao never took it seriously.

“Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that little Idol?” Zhou Xingyun leaned forward, her tone incredulous. “Are you really that Romance-obsessed?”

“I’m not,” Ji Liao rebutted flatly, seemingly unperturbed. “I just don’t want anything to do with her anymore, so I can’t be bothered to engage.”

That at least sounded reasonable. Zhou Xingyun leaned back into her armchair, though…

“It’s such a raw deal,” she frowned, her striking features twisting into shrewd calculation. “Even if you want to cut ties, why should Cheng Mi—who threw all that dirt at you—get fame and fortune while you, Ji Liao, come back empty-handed after two years of work? That damned Sky Brilliance company should be paying you compensation.”

Ji Liao didn’t take offense at Zhou Xingyun’s sarcasm, even chuckling lightly. “I’m not that broke—my copyrights are quite valuable. You know how hard it is to win lawsuits for compensation without solid evidence. Let it go.”

Zhou Xingyun gave Ji Liao a once-over before continuing dryly, “How generous of you.”

Ji Liao glanced up. “Oh, the sticky rice chicken is here.”

Zhou Xingyun: “…”

She took another large gulp of tea, urgently cooling her temper.

As she set down the cup, the aroma of sticky rice chicken wafted over. Having worked all morning, Zhou Xingyun was genuinely hungry and didn’t stand on ceremony—she picked up her chopsticks and stabbed emphatically into the dish before fixing Ji Liao with another look.

“So why did you invite me today?”

Ji Liao had been leisurely nibbling at dim sum all this time and wasn’t hungry, merely sipping her tea. At the question, she hesitated uncharacteristically:

“…No reason. Just wanted to treat you to a meal.”

Zhou Xingyun arched an eyebrow, suddenly smirking meaningfully. “That doesn’t sound right. You’re not the type to bother people without good cause.”

“Ahem,” Ji Liao cleared her throat. “I also wanted to discuss the contract.”

“Pfft,” Zhou Xingyun snorted without hesitation. “What’s there to see about that garbage contract? No matter how you revise it, the outcome’s the same—you’ll just pay compensation and part ways with Sky Brilliance.”

“Mmm.” Ji Liao made a noncommittal sound.Zhou Xingyun studied Ji Liao with keen interest for a moment before leaning in conspiratorially. “Dark circles under your eyes—something is off. You’re not yourself.”

“Just insomnia. Don’t make assumptions,” Ji Liao immediately averted his gaze.

“I didn’t say anything specific, yet you’re already defensive. Still claiming nothing’s wrong?” Zhou Xingyun chuckled, reclining with an air of triumph. She nudged Ji Liao’s leg under the table with her crossed foot. “Come on, out with it.”

“Out with what?” Ji Liao feigned ignorance.

“Don’t play dumb with a lawyer,” Zhou Xingyun lounged in her armchair like a boss. “We lawyers are sharp. I am minored in psychology too, so don’t force me to call you out.”

“…” Ji Liao rubbed his temples and sighed helplessly. Why was there no peace anywhere?

“Spit it out,” Zhou Xingyun urged, half-threatening. “If you don’t talk, I’ll start analyzing.”

Ji Liao was somewhat intimidated by her sharp, no-holds-barred analyses. Reluctantly, he admitted, “I just happened to pick up an Omega. A bit spoiled—kept me up last night.”

“An Omega?! You got yourself an Omega?” Zhou Xingyun’s eyes widened dramatically.

“Not ‘got’—picked up!” Ji Liao straightened abruptly, wary of her jumping to conclusions. “I didn’t do anything. Just offered her a place to stay.”

“No, no, no,” Zhou Xingyun raised a hand to stop him. “Forget that for now. Is the Omega pretty?”

Ji Liao hesitated, finding it hard to lie. “Quite pretty.”

“There you go,” Zhou Xingyun smirked, her eyes glinting mischievously as she lowered her voice. “Quick, find a chance to parade that Omega in front of Cheng Mi. Doesn’t she always act like she’s got you wrapped around her finger? Let’s see if she can keep that smug look then.”

Ji Liao: “…”

“What’s with the blank stare?” Zhou Xingyun scrutinized him, dissatisfied with his lackluster reaction.

“Mu— She has nothing to do with this. I can’t drag her into it,” Ji Liao remained composed, though his brows furrowed slightly. “You know Cheng Mi’s temperament. It’d just cause trouble for her.”

Recalling Cheng Mi’s past behavior, Zhou Xingyun’s expression soured with disdain. She shot Ji Liao a critical look, her tone biting. “Only you would indulge that insufferable brat. With a market as vast as ours, there’s no shortage of beauties. Without you backing her, would she even be where she is today? Debuting as the center of a top girl group? That ungrateful wretch—a dog would’ve been more loyal.”

“Enough,” Ji Liao interrupted softly, his frown deepening.

Zhou Xingyun glanced at his expression and snorted, dropping the subject. Instead, she attacked the food on the table with vicious intensity.

Why did it always end up like this?

Sighing inwardly, Ji Liao looked up at Zhou Xingyun’s fierce, icy expression and softened slightly. “You minored in psychology, right? Then you should be relieved. I’ve let go of any lingering attachment to Cheng Mi—that’s why I’m ready to walk away. If I were still fixated on revenge, wouldn’t that mean I hadn’t moved on?”

“Who cares about you,” Zhou Xingyun looked up and glared at Ji Liao. “I’m a legal professional, sir. Every scumbag who escapes justice irritates me—it has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh,” Ji Liao chuckled, maintaining her composure as she joked, “Then maybe you should look into Cheng Mi’s tax records or something. You might find a chance to catch her by the tail.”

Zhou Xingyun was so annoyed she wanted to say, “Why should I care about her?”

But having just made such a righteous statement, backtracking now would make her look hypocritical. So she could only pull a sour face at Ji Liao, who had slyly cornered her with that remark.

Ji Liao shook her head with a smile, as usual not holding it against Zhou Xingyun. She picked up the delicate little teapot and poured herself some more tea.

It was an utterly ordinary action, one that anyone could do without much difference. Yet when Ji Liao did it, it inexplicably brought a sense of calm.

—She just had that kind of presence.

Watching her, Zhou Xingyun gradually settled down too. With a sigh, she voiced the thought weighing on her heart: “I wish you’d just retaliate sometimes. Why do you always have to be so magnanimous?”

Ji Liao, still not following, gave Zhou Xingyun a puzzled glance before calmly looking away again. She smiled faintly and said, “I just don’t see the need.”

“…If there ever comes a time when it’s necessary, I might just make a fuss about it.”