The Salted-Fish Alpha and the Actress Got Their Marriage Certificate - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The sharp clack of thin high heels echoed on the floor, frantic and urgent, shattering the silence of the lounge.

Ye Cike snapped awake instantly.

But she didn’t open her eyes. Instead, she leaned back into the soft cushion, shifting into a more comfortable position, hoping to reclaim the interrupted nap.

The next second, though, the door to the lounge burst open. A visibly anxious young assistant scanned the room and immediately spotted Ye Cike reclining in the chair.

“Miss Ye! The press conference is about to start! Why are you still here?”

Those words jolted Ye Cike upright, fully awake.

Press conference?

She lifted a hand to brush aside the messy strands of hair falling over her forehead, tilting her head to reveal half of her striking profile.

Her slightly upturned eyes already gave off a sharp edge, and now, with her thin lips pressed together, she looked positively icy.

Ye Cike cast a measured glance toward the door. The assistant, still slightly out of breath, froze mid-breath and took a step back.

She looked outright terrified.

And truthfully, the assistant was scared. After reading the rumors online, her heart had been uneasy ever since.

Ye Cike, a top-tier alpha, hadn’t even been in the industry for a full year.

Her agency had poured a fortune into promoting her, recently spending big to land her a supporting role as the second female lead in Director Song’s film.

With Ye Cike’s looks and the resources behind her, even if she were just a pretty face, she should’ve been a star by now. But her reputation was abysmal—practically blacklisted across the internet.

The industry buzzed with gossip: Ye Cike wasn’t just arrogant; she allegedly loved bullying newcomers.

Worst of all, they said she suffered from pheromone disorder syndrome, which made her temper volatile, often lashing out at those around her with verbal or physical outbursts.

The assistant couldn’t help but lament inwardly: barely starting her job, and she’d been assigned to this demon king. Talk about bad luck!

Ye Cike, unaware of the assistant’s inner turmoil, was busy trying to get her foggy brain to function.

Her toes lightly tapped the floor, spinning her chair half a circle to face the flustered assistant. In a slightly hoarse voice, she asked, “What press conference? Why wasn’t I told?”

The moment she spoke, the assistant shrank back like a startled goose, shoulders hunching, hands unsure where to go.

“It’s… it’s the press conference for Director Song’s film,” she stammered nervously. “Because of the storm, it was moved up to today. Didn’t Sister Lan notify you?”

Ye Cike lowered her gaze slightly. Her schedule had no mention of this event.

Normally, a press conference would be something anyone following entertainment news would know about, but Ye Cike was an oddity in the industry.

Her agent, Ning Lan, handled her schedule, and Ye Cike—this salted-fish—merely followed instructions. As for anything else, she couldn’t care less.

Director Song was a towering figure in the industry, his influence immense. Even the most arrogant celebrities bowed their heads in his presence. If Ye Cike showed up late today, she’d likely top the trending charts again.

She could already imagine the headline: #YeCikeLate#.

Perhaps because she hadn’t spoken for a moment, the assistant hesitantly asked, “Do you… remember who Director Song is?”

Ye Cike: “…”

Ridiculous. She was just lazy and hands-off, not brain-dead. Had the rumors about her changed again in just a few days?

Ye Cike narrowed her eyes, but before the assistant could explain further, she picked up her buzzing phone from the table.

Seeing the caller’s name, her slender fingers swiped the screen. She held the phone at a safe distance from her ear, as if by habit.

A furious female voice blared through the speaker, loud enough to fill the entire lounge.

“Ye Cike, where the hell are you slacking off now?! Get over here, or I’m telling your mom!”

Once the shouting stopped, Ye Cike brought the phone closer to her ear. “Lanlan, the press conference was moved up, but no one told me.”

She cut straight to the point. The person on the other end paused for a few seconds before responding, “I had someone send the update to your schedule a week ago. I even called you myself yesterday, but you didn’t pick up.”

“Yesterday was the last day of my susceptible period. My phone was off. I specifically asked someone to inform you.”

Due to her pheromone disorder, her susceptible periods were unpredictable, sometimes early, sometimes late. Anyone who knew her understood she was unreachable during those times.

After a few crisp keyboard clicks, the voice on the phone grew tinged with anger. “No. Such. Thing!”

An empty schedule, a mysteriously missing message—Ye Cike didn’t buy for a second that there wasn’t some foul play involved.

But she responded with perfect calm. “We’ll talk after this is over.”

Without waiting for a reply, she hung up and headed to the changing room.

She slipped into a fitted black suit, the tailored design accentuating her slim waist, the high-quality wool fabric draping over her long, straight legs. A glance in the mirror confirmed she looked far more polished.

Standing in front of the assistant, she softened her voice. “Thanks for coming to get me. Otherwise, I’d probably have slept through the whole press conference.”

The assistant lowered her head, silently wondering if she’d misheard something.

The demon king had just politely thanked her!

Seeing the disbelief written all over the assistant’s face, Ye Cike reached into her pocket and pulled out a lemon-yellow candy.

No label, just wrapped in plain cellophane, cheap and unremarkable.

A faint smile curved Ye Cike’s lips, melting her icy demeanor. She looked far less cold.

She said lightly, “For you.”

The assistant took it, bewildered. “Why does Miss Ye carry candy around?”

“For eating, obviously.” Ye Cike turned to head out. “Let’s go. If we dawdle any longer, we’ll actually be late.”

“Right!” The assistant hurried to keep up, suddenly thinking Ye Cike wasn’t as terrifying as the rumors suggested.

Maybe even a little… gentle.

The car sped along, and not only did they avoid being late, they arrived early. The two navigated the chaotic backstage and found a familiar figure.

Ye Cike approached her visibly irritated beta agent.

Before she could greet her, Ning Lan shot her a glare, then, without hesitation, stood on tiptoe and swung a palm at her.

The hit wasn’t light. Ye Cike stumbled slightly, frowning as she rubbed her head.

Ning Lan’s face was full of exasperation. “Ye Cike! Can you take this seriously? Would it kill you to make a phone call yourself? Don’t you know how many eyes are on you?”

“Ease up on the scolding,” Ye Cike muttered, glancing at the assistant behind her. “Someone’s watching.”

Ning Lan rolled her eyes and scoffed. “You don’t even answer your phone. At your age, at this stage, how can you just sleep? Have some ambition! Why are you even here?”

Ye Cike let the words go in one ear and out the other, muttering softly, “What can I do? If I don’t stay in the entertainment industry, I’d have to go back and inherit the family fortune.”

Ning Lan ground her teeth. If looks could kill, Ye Cike would’ve been sliced to ribbons by now.

She opened her mouth to scold further, but a commotion erupted outside.

Reporters with cameras and microphones blocked the hallway, leaving no room to pass. Security struggled to clear a narrow path through the crowd.

Ye Cike’s curiosity was piqued. Someone was arriving even later than her.

From the throng emerged a slender woman, head slightly lowered, holding the hem of her sky-blue chiffon gown, her steps unhurried.

Through small gaps, Ye Cike caught sight of her stunning face. Under the harsh white lights, her long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings, and her delicate nose shimmered as if dusted with pearl.

Someone cleared the way ahead of her, while another handed her water.

At the center of it all, she gave a small nod, then flashed a sweet, subtle smile toward the flashing cameras, elegant as a fleeting bloom.

Like a delicate princess, the kind worth protecting in the palm of one’s hand, Ye Cike thought to herself.

Noticing Ye Cike staring, seemingly captivated by the beauty, Ning Lan elbowed her with disdain. “What are you gawking at? Jealous? If you were half as well-behaved as Xi Ling, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Xi Ling?” Ye Cike immediately recalled. “The new actress? Why’s she here?”

Unlike Ye Cike, Xi Ling had an impeccable reputation. Talented, beautiful, hardworking, from a wealthy family, she worked 360 days a year and had been voted the omega most people wanted to marry for three years running.

The ultimate workaholic of the entertainment world.

Ning Lan was speechless. “You didn’t know? You were in the same film crew for so long and never met her?”

“Nope.” Ye Cike turned away, leaning lazily against the wall. “It’s a segmented film. We’re not even in the same script. It’s normal not to meet.”

Besides, she went home right after filming each day. Even with the beta actors she worked with, she barely interacted off-set.

Let alone an omega.

With everyone present, the press conference finally began.

Before heading onstage, Ning Lan grabbed her, her eyes full of warning. “You better not cause any trouble.”

“Got it,” Ye Cike replied confidently.

Say what you will, but under the spotlight, Ye Cike’s charisma and looks were undeniable. With her eyes lowered and her smile restrained, she was every inch a cold beauty, her sharp aura intimidating enough to silence a room.

Given the large crowd and long duration, the press conference took the form of a relaxed interview, with chairs thoughtfully provided for the main cast. Ye Cike was seated right next to Xi Ling.

The Q&A was dull, and Ye Cike’s mind wandered until a faint lemony scent caught her attention. It took her a moment to realize it was her own pheromones.

Then she noticed Xi Ling shift slightly, her shoulders trembling, her body stiff and uneasy.

Xi Ling didn’t seem to like her pheromones and was subtly moving away.

Ye Cike mentally cursed herself. Forcing your pheromones on someone who didn’t like them was practically harassment!

But with her pheromone disorder, she couldn’t control them freely. All she could do was discreetly scoot over, even slowing her breathing to minimize her presence.

The earlier questions were routine, with plenty of laughs, and the atmosphere grew noticeably lively.

As the event neared its end, an alpha reporter stood up, firing off a question rapid-fire. “Miss Xi, as an unmarried omega, you must face some unavoidable challenges. How does the crew handle those?”

Xi Ling’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, but her smile held. “That question isn’t relevant to the film, and with current technology, many of those issues don’t arise.”

She’d barely finished when the reporter pressed on.

“Miss Xi, you’re already at the peak of your career. Why take on this film? Haven’t you considered settling down for a stable life?”

His tone was sanctimonious, but every word was laced with barbs, targeting Xi Ling’s omega status. Clearly, he’d come prepared to embarrass her.

Ye Cike glanced at Xi Ling. Her posture remained poised, but her whitening fingers clutched her skirt, her dark eyes reflecting no light.

She looked like a rain-soaked kitten, spirit dampened, fur no longer glossy.

The others onstage merely watched in silence, weighing their options.

Without overthinking, Ye Cike grabbed the microphone. “Time’s tight. No need for irrelevant questions, right?”

The sudden move stunned the room. Even the shutter clicks stopped for a moment before the media snapped back, aiming their cameras at her.

The reporter gave an awkward laugh. “But everyone’s curious about this. I’m just asking what people want to know.”

“Heh.” Ye Cike leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs casually. “Tell me, as an alpha, you must cause plenty of trouble for those around you, right? How do you handle it?”

Before he could retort, Ye Cike cut him off ruthlessly.

“You’ve reached the peak of your career too, yet you’re still grinding away. Must be tough. Ever thought about quitting and going home?”

The reporter’s face flushed red, stammering, “No, I mean, I’m not—”

Ye Cike tapped the table, her expression blank, her tone icy. “You’re at your career peak, I’m saying. Got a problem with that?”