The Salted-Fish Alpha and the Actress Got Their Marriage Certificate - Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Xi Ling’s pitiful expression seemed to falter for a fleeting moment.

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, lowering her gaze to conceal the confusion in her eyes.

Having topped the “most desired omega on the internet” list for three years, with every selfie garnering hundreds of thousands of likes and always being the center of attention, Xi Ling, for the first time, doubted her appearance and pheromones.

Could it be that Ye Cike didn’t like her type?

“Is a scarf really all you need?” she asked again, her words laced with just the right amount of concern.

Ye Cike uncomfortably rubbed her fingertips together and nodded firmly. “Hmm, thank you. I’ll send it back to you after I’m done. Don’t worry, I won’t use it for anything weird.”

By the time she finished speaking, her earlobes had flushed a shy crimson.

If she weren’t worried about something happening on her way home, she wouldn’t have taken the scarf at all!

She needed the lingering pheromones on the scarf to suppress the pain of her susceptibility period. The thought of that scene made Ye Cike unable to meet Xi Ling’s gaze.

What was her relationship with Xi Ling? How could she do something like this?

Utterly perverse!

Xi Ling didn’t say more, only silently untied the scarf from her neck and handed it over.

Ye Cike quickly took it, then stepped back a few meters, nodding at Xi Ling from a safe distance. “You should head back. Don’t worry about me.”

Xi Ling gazed at Ye Cike for a long moment before softly saying, “Alright.”

With that, she turned and left, her slender figure vanishing at the end of the dim path.

Ye Cike clutched the soft scarf, feeling as though it still carried Xi Ling’s warmth, almost scalding to the touch. She wrapped it tightly around her left wrist and palm several times.

The shadows of the trees swayed, the wind rattled the torn window paper with a “whooshing” sound, and the chirping of insects and the gurgle of flowing water filled her ears.

Her heightened senses made her as sharp as a hunting beast, picking out the faint sound of footsteps amidst the cacophony.

Only when she could no longer hear Xi Ling’s presence did Ye Cike lean against the low wall and slowly squat down.

“Ugh—” A whimper like that of a young wolf escaped her throat. She raised her scarf-wrapped left hand, covering most of her face. “I’m so shameless, but she smells so good.”

The fragrance was delicate and intoxicating, seeping into her senses. Every moment spent with Xi Ling, Ye Cike had to restrain her breathing. Yet she couldn’t help wanting to inhale more, just a little more.

After crouching for a moment, she took a deep breath, stood up, and slipped through the back door into the courtyard in the dark.

The bonfire party lasted well into the night. It started as part of the show, but once the crew had enough footage, they turned off the cameras and let everyone enjoy themselves.

After a few days together, the group had grown familiar, and the long table was filled with lively chatter, the atmosphere relaxed and warm.

The director, after several drinks, drunkenly boasted about his connections.

“Xinghan Entertainment owes me a small favor,” he said, squinting with a wide grin. “I can secure a big investment from them.”

Everyone raised their glasses in congratulations, showering him with flattery until he seemed to lose track of time.

Xinghan Entertainment, after all, was one of the three giants in the entertainment industry, known for producing wildly popular or critically acclaimed artists.

With countless subsidiaries, their influence extended far beyond entertainment and media.

Xi Ling also raised her glass, lightly clinking it with the director’s. “Congratulations,” she said sincerely.

“Inviting you was the best decision I ever made,” the director replied, downing his drink in one go.

Xi Ling sipped her juice, smiling without a word.

Suddenly, a “ding-ding” notification interrupted the conversation. The director pulled out his phone and scrolled through it, his expression shifting from joy to disbelief, then to a furrowed brow, vivid and dramatic.

Then he abruptly called out, “Meng Gujin.”

“What’s up?”

The director pointed at Ye Cike’s empty seat. “Take Ye Cike’s phone to her. She’s at the back door.”

“Why me? Can’t you just send someone else?” Meng Gujin asked, looking baffled.

The director shook his head, lowering his voice. “She said she wants to talk to you, or you’ll face the consequences.”

Meng Gujin seemed to realize something, and after a brief pause, he waved his hand impatiently with a frown. “Fine, I’ll go.”

Soon, he reached the back door, leaving the bright lights behind. The surroundings were so dark he could barely see the path, with only occasional cheers echoing from the distance.

Meng Gujin suddenly felt a pang of unease, his sixth sense warning him this wasn’t a place to linger.

“Ye Cike?” he called out tentatively, his voice unsteady.

No response.

But a rich scent of orange swept over him, carrying an aggression that belied its sweet-tart aroma, weaving a dense net that ensnared its prey.

The suppression of pheromone hierarchy was an insurmountable gap. No matter how hard Meng Gujin tried, he couldn’t resist the piercing pain shooting through his nerves.

His knees buckled, nearly sending him to the ground.

“Good evening,” a hoarse voice came from the shadows.

Following the sound, Meng Gujin finally spotted Ye Cike leaning against the corner of the wall.

Her strikingly handsome face showed clear signs of fatigue, and her glance at him carried a hint of impatience.

Meng Gujin wanted to flee, but the overwhelming pheromones around him wouldn’t allow a single step back.

Ye Cike strolled out casually, snatching the phone from his hand.

Her dark eyes scrutinized him, her fingers tapping the phone screen intermittently.

The relentless pain made time crawl for Meng Gujin. Gritting his teeth, a flash of menace crossed his eyes. “Ye Cike, you’d better not touch me, or you’ll regret it once we’re out of here.”

“Ha?”

Ye Cike let out a scoff, as if she’d heard something amusing.

She pocketed the phone and flexed her right wrist expressionlessly. “Stupid. Did you really think I didn’t notice your little tricks? My assistant was bought by you, wasn’t she?”

Without giving Meng Gujin a chance to explain, she stepped forward and, with a swift kick, sent him sprawling to the ground.

“Ye Cike!” Meng Gujin clutched his side, growling in pain. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Oh, I know,” Ye Cike replied nonchalantly.

Then she grabbed his collar, yanking him up. A dull “thud” rang out as his head hit the ground.

Bl00d slowly seeped out, dirt and grass clinging to half of Meng Gujin’s face, making him look utterly disheveled.

“They say you were in your susceptibility period, couldn’t control yourself, and accidentally marked that omega, so it’s excusable? And the other one, induced into heat—that was your assistant’s doing, and you knew nothing about it?”

Ye Cike looked down at Meng Gujin, her tone as casual as if she were chatting. “What a coincidence. I’m in my susceptibility period too, and I can’t control myself. Surely you’d understand if I beat you up, right?”

Seeing another blow coming, Meng Gujin’s sharp eyes caught the white ribbon wrapped around her hand. In a flash, he thought he understood her actions.

“Wait!” he hurriedly said. “She’s yours, I know she’s your omega!”

As an alpha himself, he knew admitting an omega’s ownership was the best way to calm someone down in such a situation.

Ye Cike paused, her expression darkening. Her gaze cut into Meng Gujin like a knife, making his heart tremble.

Clearly, he’d said the wrong thing—she seemed even angrier.

“She’s not,” Ye Cike retorted in a low voice, then delivered another merciless kick.

Meng Gujin curled up in pain, drenched in cold sweat, nearly spitting bl00d.

What the hell?! Was there something seriously wrong with Ye Cike?!