The Stand-In Alpha Goes Viral on a Dating Show - Chapter 24

“Inhibitors?” Su Yao was the first to react. Her delicate brows furrowed as she glanced between Lu Xin and Chi Wan, her gaze darting back and forth with suspicion.

She remembered how, earlier in the room, Lu Xin’s movements had been furtive. Rumor had it she was in heat, and indeed, Lu Xin had pulled out two inhibitors, even snapping, “What’s it to you? Can’t I drink it for fun?”

Later, Su Yao had even told Lu Xin about pseudo-heat symptoms. So from the very beginning, the one suspected to be in heat wasn’t Lu Xin at all—it was Chi Wan?!

How had these two managed to connect behind her back—right under her nose, in fact?

Had Lu Xin told Chi Wan about pseudo-heat? Had they discussed something that private together? And worse—had Lu Xin personally helped Chi Wan confirm it?

The thought wrapped around Su Yao’s heart like a searing chain, tightening mercilessly. In that moment, an absurd feeling struck her—like she’d been betrayed by both her best friend and her ex-girlfriend.

But… was it really absurd? No matter how Lu Xin helped Chi Wan cover things up, no matter how close Chi Wan and Lu Xin got—it wasn’t supposed to have anything to do with her.

Then why did it feel so awful?

Su Yao’s eyes grew darker. For her, only two things truly mattered right now—her career and Mingyu. Chi Wan was irrelevant. She should be irrelevant.

Compared to Su Yao’s heart smoldering like it was on a spit, Ruan Xiao seemed much less aware. But even a fool could hear what Lu Xin’s words implied—

That Chi Wan was suspected to be in heat, and Lu Xin knew about it. Judging by the expressions around the room, she was the only one who knew. Even An Ran, who had followed Chi Wan back into the room, seemed unaware.

So why did Lu Xin know? Was Chi Wan still hung up on her and instinctively sought her out in a crisis?

But why her? Weren’t they all treating Chi Wan like a stand-in?

Or… did Chi Wan simply prefer Lu Xin’s type?

Photographer Meng Lan had been reminding herself not to capture Chi Wan’s face on camera. But now, with a jealousy she couldn’t quite name, her lens drifted toward Chi Wan.

Chi Wan… you went to Lu Xin first, but she’s now told everyone—in front of all these people—that she gave you two inhibitors. How do you feel about that?

Through the camera, Chi Wan was still wreathed in the chill of the night air, yet the skin she revealed burned with heat. Her cheeks were flushed, her brows and eyes softened with an almost springlike warmth, lips parted to show a hint of pearly teeth. The corners of her eyes bloomed with a fresh, rosy hue, like a bewitching spirit luring souls in the dark.

In suspected heat, she wasn’t disheveled—she was breathtaking.

Meng Lan felt almost dazzled by her beauty. She drew in a deep breath, lowering her gaze to hide the faint hunger in her eyes. She had always known it—Chi Wan was born for the camera.

In the past, repeated blows as a “stand-in” had dulled her radiance. But now, for reasons unknown, the haze had lifted. That hidden gem was once again gleaming bright.

As a devoted photographer, Meng Lan couldn’t help but admire the beauty in her frame.

And yet, in her heart, the one she truly loved was Mingyu. The dissonance between the woman in reality and the woman through her lens only made the ache sharper.

In the director’s booth, Chu Rou was watching Chi Wan through Meng Lan’s feed and other camera angles, thoughts tumbling in her mind.

For example—why hadn’t Chi Wan taken the inhibitors Lu Xin had given her? Was it because she didn’t need them… or because she didn’t want to?

If it was the latter, Chu Rou felt a surprising sense of relief.

Just as she tapped her fingers against the desk, lost in thought, she heard Chi Wan’s voice. With a casual flick, she tucked her chilled hair behind her ear, tilted her head playfully, and said to Lu Xin—

“Oh, that? I didn’t use them—probably won’t need them anyway.”

Then, in the instant everyone froze, she gave Lu Xin a quick, secretive wink.

Lu Xin’s mouth dropped open in realization—Chi Wan was only in pseudo-heat!

Those who already suspected as much, like Su Yao, caught on instantly. Even Ruan Xiao, Meng Lan, and Chu Rou now guessed the real reason Chi Wan didn’t need the inhibitors—pseudo-heat.

But how did Chi Wan know?

Those who had dated her knew well—Chi Wan had never heard of pseudo-heat. They had all drilled into her: absolutely no intimate contact during susceptibility.

That’s why, at the first sign of overheating, she would down an inhibitor immediately, enduring the pain that followed rather than risk losing control.

More than once, they’d seen her writhing in agony on the floor and almost told her, Don’t you know about pseudo-heat?

But in the end, they’d kept silent. She was just a stand-in—why bother caring? So they let her suffer in silence.

Taking inhibitors during pseudo-heat hurt her especially badly, because although she was an Alpha, her health wasn’t strong. With a gravely ill mother at home, every bit she earned was saved down to the last coin.

Su Yao still remembered a health report showing Chi Wan’s malnutrition.

Not just her—other exes had seen it too.

Back then, they could turn a blind eye, watching her struggle at the edge of poverty. But after meeting again on this romance show, it felt as though their outlook had shifted.

Why?

Perhaps because Chi Wan had come alive again.

The woman who used to let them take and take now stood her ground, sparred back without hesitation, even teased them until they were seething.

So… was it really human nature to want what you can’t have?

Su Yao and the others found themselves staring at Chi Wan, their eyes unwavering—intent, burning, and tinged with curiosity.

Just then, in the increasingly strange, tense atmosphere, the sound of footsteps broke through.

An Ran, who had been quietly standing at the door, finally stepped inside. The overhead lights drove away the darkness clinging to her figure, but not the deeper chill she carried.

Her shadowed gaze swept over every guest, noting each subtle reaction.

Mo Wei, who had never gotten along with Chi Wan, propped her chin in one hand, eyes glinting with anticipation as she glanced between Chi Wan and her exes—waiting for the show to start.

Mingyu, always a sharp contrast to Chi Wan, also looked… off. Her lips were pressed tight as though she were holding something back—though she didn’t seem likely to succeed for long.

The other guests could sense the undercurrents between these people, unease flickering in their expressions.

Of everyone present, Chi Wan herself seemed the most unbothered—at least until she arrived.

Chi Wan hadn’t realized An Ran had been outside the villa earlier. When she came back and didn’t see her, she assumed she was upstairs resting. But then—unexpectedly—the sound of footsteps approached from behind.

Wait—there was someone behind me this whole time?! No wonder she was startled.

But when she turned and saw it was An Ran, her surprise shifted to confusion. Hadn’t An Ran just gotten through her heat and gone to rest? Why was she suddenly outside?

Had something else happened?

Thinking of this, Chi Wan quickly turned and hurried to An Ran’s side, scrutinizing her face. Her cheeks and lips had that bloodless pallor, her eyelids drooped weakly, her gaze evasive, and even her fingernails carried a faint bluish tinge—she must have been freezing.

In Chi Wan’s line of sight, An Ran’s toes shifted slightly against the ground, her pale lips pressing together unconsciously. Her eyes flicked upward to glance at Chi Wan, brimming with such helpless vulnerability it could melt stone.

“Why did you run outside?” Chi Wan asked, shrugging off her coat and draping it over the fragile “little white flower.”

【Wait! Host! Did you forget the bra in your inner pocket?!】

What?! Oh right—the bra! Chi Wan froze. But the coat was already on An Ran’s shoulders; there was no way to take it back now.

Damn system! Why didn’t you remind me earlier?!

Her chest burned with impotent fury. She could only pray that An Ran wouldn’t notice… or worse, get curious. Because at this point, An Ran’s curiosity wouldn’t just kill a cat—it would kill Chi Wan.

【Even if something happens, it’s your own fault for being so quick. Why aren’t you that fast when finishing tasks?】

Oh, so now you want to start a mutual-destruction pact? Chi Wan spat inwardly, adopting the posture of an incorrigible rogue. She’d been itching to throw hands with this perverted-task-assigning system for a long time.

Listen up, you wretched system—if I get found out, you’re going down with me. I’ll lodge the complaint of the century.

Every system fears complaints; they’re a universal weak spot. In the end, the system yielded.

【Alright, alright. Don’t worry. If something happens, I’ll handle the aftermath. But just this once—don’t expect it again.】

Chi Wan hummed in reluctant agreement, though her thoughts whispered: Whether there’s a “next time” is not up to you.

The moment that coat, still warm from someone else’s body, settled over An Ran, her skin—soaked through with cold—felt a long-lost touch of heat, almost scalding.

The warmth made her shiver involuntarily.

“I went to look for you,” she murmured softly.

Chi Wan blinked, caught off guard. “You were looking for me?”

“Mm.” An Ran edged her toes forward, closing the gap until she stood entirely within the shadow Chi Wan cast on the ground.

At such close range, Chi Wan dominated her field of vision, and An Ran felt a strange delight, as though she’d stepped into Chi Wan’s world in a way that couldn’t be resisted.

Especially when Chi Wan’s gaze was fixed solely on her—it made her want that attention even more.

So An Ran leaned closer, rising on her toes. “Because I was worried about you.”

In that overheated state of yours, to leave me behind—I had to check on you.

After speaking, An Ran lowered her eyes again, as though that brief flash of assertiveness had never existed.

In truth, Chi Wan didn’t notice; her heart was too full of quiet gratitude. So An Ran had been this worried about her…

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I can push through,” Chi Wan whispered back.

In the villa’s common area, with all the other guests nearby, they spoke as if the world contained only the two of them.

The sight alone must have stung more than a few hearts.

Lu Xin was so irritated she snapped the hair clip in her hand with a sharp crack—loud in the otherwise silent room.

But not even such a jarring sound drew the attention of Su Yao, Ruan Xiao, or Meng Lan.

Mingyu bit her lip, her gaze shadowed, before suddenly rising to her feet. A gentle smile curved her lips. “Chi Wan, judging by your complexion, this must be a false heat. I have some pills in my room—taking them would make you much more comfortable. Do you want them?”

Chi Wan finally tore her gaze from An Ran and gave Mingyu a cursory glance. She might be smiling, but Chi Wan couldn’t shake the feeling she meant trouble. Still, avoidance was never her style—especially not with someone like Mingyu, practically a destined nemesis to the body’s original owner.

Attack was the best defense.

“In that case, I’d be impolite to refuse, Miss Ming,” Chi Wan replied with a smile.

“Come with me, then.” Mingyu’s smile didn’t waver as she led the way upstairs.

Chi Wan was about to follow when a light touch closed around her wrist. A soft whisper brushed her ear: “Don’t go.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be back soon. No matter how dangerous she is, she can’t exactly eat me,” Chi Wan murmured back, warmed by the little white flower’s concern. She offered quiet reassurance before heading after Mingyu.

Their footsteps—just two sets—echoed in the bright stairwell, but Chi Wan couldn’t shake the feeling that their shadows on the wall were darker, more invasive, hinting at ill omen.

Sure enough, once inside Mingyu’s room, the moment the door clicked shut, her polite smile vanished. Folding her arms and tilting her chin slightly upward, she stood in open condescension. Her voice dripped with mockery: “Chi Wan,

I’d really like to know—how did you even dare to come here?”

“Oh? And why wouldn’t I dare?” Chi Wan had expected this and wasn’t surprised, though she still felt a jolt at how fast Mingyu could change her face.

“A scandal-stained internet celebrity like you… daring to appear on this show? Are you relying on some hidden backer, or just clinging to an absurd fantasy?” Mingyu arched a brow, then stepped back to sink into the soft sofa, studying Chi Wan from her seated vantage.

“Of course I have a fantasy. Isn’t this a dating show?” Chi Wan spread her hands, looking utterly unconcerned.

Mingyu stared at her for a long moment before breaking into a sharp laugh. “Chi Wan, you really are exactly as some netizens say—thick-skinned as a fortress. Shameless, too. Do you even realize how many stunts you’ve pulled since you got here, all just to catch certain people’s attention? And now you’re even faking heat? How desperate are you to marry into a wealthy family?”

Each word carried a heavy, suffocating pressure. Mingyu truly wanted to see if Chi Wan had any shame left. But Chi Wan just let her look, unruffled, and only when Mingyu had stared her fill did she finally speak—tone brimming with feigned surprise.

“Oh my, Miss Ming… could it be you’re jealous?”

The exaggerated expression Chi Wan wore made the jab sting even more.

“Jealous?!” Mingyu’s composure cracked; she shot to her feet, striding over to stand toe-to-toe with Chi Wan, sarcasm curling her lips. “You’ve got some nerve.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re beautiful as a blossom and hardly a monstrous villain, are you?” Chi Wan stated.

“Fine. You are bold.” Mingyu knew full well her own charms, but “beautiful as a blossom” was a description that fit Chi Wan far better. She had no patience for word games now and decided to drop the mask.

“Let me put it plainly— in my eyes, you’re nothing. And if you anger me, the consequences will be more than you can bear. I guarantee you don’t want to find out what that means. So tell me—knowing this, are you still going to run your mouth?”

The threat in her words was unmistakable.

To her surprise, Chi Wan burst into laughter—bent double, nearly breathless. “Miss Ming, you and Miss Mo really are a perfect match. I wish you two would just pair up on this dating show and lock it down. Save everyone else the trouble.”

Mo Wei had been blunt—‘I hear you have a sick mother back home. Be careful, or I might send someone to… pay her a visit.’

Mingyu wasn’t as crude, but the implication was the same.

Her whole body tensed at Chi Wan’s words; the fact that Chi Wan had seen through her was unsettling. It was true—among the Omega guests, Mingyu’s wealth and status made her lean toward Mo Wei, but that didn’t mean she could accept Su Yao and the other Alphas pairing up with anyone else.

“So that’s your plan all along? That’s why you keep pulling these cheap tricks, trying to seduce the others?” Mingyu thought she’d finally uncovered Chi Wan’s true motive, which left her feeling smug and in control.

But Chi Wan’s gaze held nothing but pity. “Miss Ming, I understand your frustration. You came here expecting to be the star—the one everyone orbits. But I didn’t, and that threw you off balance, didn’t it?”

The words scraped like blades across Mingyu’s nerves. A vein pulsed at her temple; she was at the very edge of restraint.

“Chi Wan! Shut up!” Mingyu raised her hand high, ready to slap—

And just at that instant, the barely closed door creaked open, the gap widening like Pandora’s box being unsealed.