A Heartless Omega Regrets It When I’m Dying - Chapter 1

The winter in North City was a hesitant shade of gray; even when the sky cleared after a snowfall, it left one with a lingering sense of listlessness.

Lin Wantang pulled her car into the parking lot of North City’s most prestigious wine estate. She was dressed exquisitely today; her already vibrant features looked even more lush and striking, carrying a desperate yet lethal attraction.

As she reached the entrance, Lin Wantang paused for a moment. She forcibly suppressed the turbulent emotions rising within her before politely asking the attendant for the private tasting room where Wen Zhiqing was located.

She knew Wen Zhiqing didn’t visit tasting rooms often; they triggered the memories Wen hated most in this life. But Wen Zhiqing was an exceptionally proud Omega. Stepping back into this world of debauchery was simply her way of signaling to everyone that she no longer cared about the past scandal she once considered a disgrace.

The attendant wore a practiced, polite smile, but his eyes appraised Lin Wantang up and down. After a long pause, he asked with a hint of mockery, “My apologies, but do you have President Wen’s permission?”

Lin Wantang’s expression flickered with a moment of blankness, but she quickly regained her composure. “Zhiqing has been drinking. Her friend asked me to come pick her up.”

She had a premonition that getting into that room wouldn’t be easy.

Still, this was better than before. At least the attendant’s reaction confirmed Wen Zhiqing was actually here—unlike previous times when she’d been toyed with, arriving only to find she’d been stood up, followed by a disingenuous apology claiming it was “just a joke.”

She couldn’t bring up these grievances to Wen Zhiqing. The only time she had tried, she was coldly interrupted: “Do you think my friends are intentionally making sport of you?”

At that time, the Omega’s gaze had been as indifferent as her voice, like the eternal snow atop a mountain. Lin Wantang felt herself freezing in that atmosphere of distrust. After a pause, she had simply shaken her head: “No, maybe they were just joking.”

Since then, she never told Wen Zhiqing about such incidents again.

“Please wait a moment while we verify. Would you mind giving us your name?”

As the attendant spoke, he scanned Lin Wantang again. The Alpha before him was as exquisite as a precious gem in a display case, reflecting a fleeting, fragile brilliance under the chandelier—yet she carried a trace of ill-timed exhaustion and stubbornness.

“My name is Lin Wantang.”

Still clutching the anniversary gift she had meticulously prepared, Lin Wantang stood tall and straight, waiting for the verification.

The attendant’s expression turned subtle. Without another word to Lin, she spoke a few lines into her bone-conduction mic and returned to her desk to handle other work.

Lin Wantang remained standing there, as still as a scarecrow in a wheat field.

She was long used to the reactions people had to her name. Three years ago, she might have been at a loss, but now she was well-adjusted. She tried contacting Wen Zhiqing’s friends, but whether by text or call, there was no response. She could only continue to wait.

It didn’t matter. Since childhood, the thing she was best at was waiting.

After an unknown amount of time, the attendant’s voice finally returned: “Miss Lin, I will take you there.”

Lin Wantang moved her slightly numb legs and followed behind. They walked through a long corridor to the innermost tasting room. It was perfectly soundproofed and sealed; she couldn’t hear a thing, nor could she sense Wen Zhiqing’s mood through pheromones.

“We’re here.”

The attendant rang the bell, gave a polite bow, and left.

Lin Wantang tightened her grip on the gift. She wanted to see her Omega immediately, to carefully gather her drunken wife into her arms and take her home.

The door opened quickly.

“Oh, Wantang, we’ve all been waiting for you for so long. You’re finally here.”

Song Shu’s tone was performatively intimate, but her words carried a double meaning.

Lin Wantang smiled. “I’ve actually been waiting for quite a while too—over half an hour in the lobby.”

Song Shu hadn’t expected Lin to point that out directly, and a crack appeared in her warm smile.

Simultaneously, Lin Wantang’s gaze swept past the crowd to the Omega at the center. The Omega was like a meticulously carved ice sculpture—her eyes as dark as ink sunk into the depths of a glacier, breathtakingly beautiful and undeniably cold.

However, she seemed slightly tipsy. A faint rosy tint touched her cheeks, lending her a few sparks of human vitality.

But Lin Wantang knew Wen Zhiqing wasn’t completely drunk. Her shirt was still buttoned fastidiously to the very top, her cuffs crisp without a single wrinkle. Every detail maintained a standard of perfection meant to keep people at a distance.

As Lin Wantang watched her, Wen Zhiqing lowered her eyelids and casually hooked a finger in Lin’s direction. “Come here.”

For a moment, Lin wasn’t sure if she was speaking to her or Song Shu, but her body made the choice before her mind did. She walked straight toward Wen Zhiqing. She rarely had the chance to sit beside her in such settings, so she cherished every possibility.

As soon as she sat down, an Alpha across from her spoke: “Miss Lin probably doesn’t come here often, right? Is there anything you’d like to drink?”

The tone was polite, but Lin knew the true intent was to dig up the past.

Lin Wantang had only been to this wine estate twice. The last time, she had found a drunken Wen Zhiqing, only to realize the Omega’s flush wasn’t just from alcohol.

Pulling herself from the memory, Lin’s fingers unconsciously worried the silk ribbon of the gift box until the edges were frayed, the cord digging a shallow red mark into her palm.

She kept her eyes fixed on the wall of climate-controlled wine cellars, not daring to peek at Wen Zhiqing’s expression. “I don’t come often. I don’t really want anything to drink.”

“That’s right, Wantang is just a minor actress, after all. Normally, it would be impossible for her to enter this estate,” Song Shu chimed in naturally. “Wantang just has good luck—being 100% pheromone compatible with President Wen and seizing the opportunity.”

“What opportunity?”

Song Shu’s bait was quickly taken. Some fools asked immediately, while the clever ones feigned indifference, waiting in silence for the next sentence.

“Three years ago, she ‘saved’ President Wen in a tasting room when she was feeling unwell. But back then, how could someone like her have access to a place like this? I’d say she probably set President Wen up herself.”

This time, no one followed up. Even though Song Shu didn’t explicitly say that Wen Zhiqing had actually been drugged with an aphrodisiac back then, everyone knew it—and they knew it was Wen Zhiqing’s “reverse scale,” her ultimate taboo.

Someone tugged at Song Shu’s sleeve, signaling her to stop, but Song Shu ignored them and looked at Lin Wantang. “What shows have you been in lately, Wantang? Are you still playing minor supporting roles?”

Lin Wantang kept her eyes down, her gaze sweeping over the array of wine glasses, decanters, and spittoons she couldn’t name. Finally, she couldn’t help but snap back. “If you want to know what I’ve acted in, President Song, you can just search for it. I’m also curious about your luck lately—now that you’re striking out on your own, are you still losing your family’s money?”

She added with a smile, “I don’t follow financial news much, so I’m not sure.”

The composure vanished from Song Shu’s face. She prided herself on being sharp-tongued and hadn’t expected to be out-talked by a “lowly” actress. Furthermore, her recent investments in streetwear brands had indeed lost tens of millions, earning her a harsh scolding from her family.

Flushed with anger, Song Shu could only muster: “You definitely watch the financial news.”

The rebuttal was weak. Considering the Song and Wen families were long-time associates, Lin Wantang just gave a soft laugh and said nothing more.

When Lin Wantang looked down again, she found Wen Zhiqing pushing her nearly untouched glass toward her. The base of the glass hit the table with a sharp clink.

“Drink it all for me.”

Wen Zhiqing’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an unquestionable chill—like a cold, emotionless command.

Lin Wantang took the glass. The fine crystal still held the lingering warmth of Wen Zhiqing’s fingertips. Without hesitation, she took a sip.

As the liquid slid down her throat, it was initially rich and fragrant. But once the aroma faded, a late-arriving bitterness spread across her tongue, mirroring her own heavy, aching heart.

Lin Wantang stole a glance at Wen Zhiqing. The Omega’s expression didn’t change as she picked up her phone to call her executive assistant.

Wen Zhiqing’s voice was clear and steady—not loud, but perfectly audible to everyone in the room. There was no emotion in it, as if she were merely stating a fixed piece of business: “Terminate all access permissions for Miss Song Shu in the group system immediately. Henceforth, all her appointment requests are to be automatically rejected by the system without need for further review.”

She paused, her voice still flat: “Additionally, based on the company’s latest strategic adjustments, all cooperation with the Guangyao Group is suspended indefinitely.”

The face of the Alpha who had provoked Lin Wantang turned ashen. She didn’t dare offend Wen Zhiqing and could only bow respectfully in apology. Song Shu sat motionless, the darkness in her eyes deepening.

Lin Wantang’s fingers trembled as she gripped the crystal glass. Zhiqing must be really drunk, she thought. In the past, Wen Zhiqing would always let her be mocked like a clown, sometimes even watching with a playful, mocking smile.

Though she knew this was only because Song Shu and the other Alpha had touched upon Wen’s own sore spot, Lin couldn’t help but indulge in a bit of wishful thinking.

As the crowd filed out of the room, Lin Wantang—lost in the hope that things might finally be getting better—didn’t notice someone approaching until she heard Song Shu’s venomous voice.

“How pathetic. You surely don’t think Wen Zhiqing came here to drink and stood up for you for your sake, do you?”

Lin Wantang snapped her head up, meeting Song Shu’s eyes, which were brimming with malice.

“You don’t actually think she could love someone who used such dirty tactics to climb up, do you?” Song Shu emphasized “dirty tactics” heavily. “She came here to drink because her White Moonlight is returning to the country soon. It has nothing to do with you.”

Song Shu stepped closer, enunciating every word: “She targeted me because I used to pursue her White Moonlight, and because I brought up the incident from three years ago. You aren’t narcissistic enough to think she actually cares about your feelings, are you?”

Lin Wantang swerved to avoid Song Shu and walked quickly to catch up with Wen Zhiqing.

Even outside the estate, as the cold wind bit at her neck and she carefully wrapped a scarf around Wen Zhiqing, Song Shu’s poisonous words haunted her.

The fact that Qi Yishu was returning was such a major event, yet Wen Zhiqing hadn’t mentioned it once.

Was Wen Zhiqing drinking at the tasting room on their anniversary because of Qi Yishu’s return?

“What are you thinking about? How could you forget to call the driver in advance?” Wen Zhiqing frowned. “You can’t even handle a small thing like this.”

“I just contacted him; he’ll be here in a few minutes.” Lin Wantang snapped back to reality, forcing a smile as she draped a coat over Wen’s shoulders. “Are you still cold? I prepared an anniversary gift—do you want to open it now?”

Wen Zhiqing listened in silence, then let out a scoff. “Are you in such a good mood because of what just happened?”

Without waiting for an answer, Wen continued, “Don’t be so sentimental, Lin Wantang. People like Song Shu are exceptionally stupid, and I hate stupid people most of all.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Lin Wantang silently pulled back the gift she was about to offer and shoved it into the bottom of her bag, pushing down that tiny spark of hope along with it. “I won’t overthink it.”

Wen Zhiqing turned her face away. The approaching headlights cast a glow on her features, highlighting an otherworldly, detached beauty. “Lin Wantang, a person should have self-awareness. Don’t crave things that don’t belong to you.”

“The driver is here.” Lin Wantang took Wen Zhiqing’s hand. “Let’s get in the car so you don’t catch a cold. I’ll remember what you said.”

Lin Wantang’s tone wasn’t dismissive, but Wen Zhiqing didn’t believe she would actually remember. Even if she did now, she’d surely forget later.

But she didn’t care to argue. Once inside the car, she realized she was drunker than she thought. After a moment’s hesitation, she lay her head in Lin Wantang’s lap.

In that moment, Lin Wantang’s heart sank silently, like soil kissed by spring snow—suddenly soft and damp.

They had been married for three years. If three years wasn’t enough, she’d try five; if five wasn’t enough, fifty. She would eventually warm Wen Zhiqing up. She didn’t believe that by the time their hair turned white with age, Wen wouldn’t have at least a shred of sincerity for her.

After all, she was so very good at waiting.

The headlights finally stopped in front of a villa. Lin Wantang hesitated, then reached out to gently touch Wen Zhiqing’s pale, exquisite cheek.

“Zhiqing, we’re home,” Lin Wantang said softly. “Wake up.”

Wen Zhiqing slowly opened her eyes. She had actually been awake for a while, but Lin Wantang’s embrace was warm, so she had allowed herself to stay there. Now, leaving that warmth, she felt a flicker of attachment she didn’t want to voice.

She got out of the car and walked toward the villa, her voice showing no ripple of emotion, as if stating a mundane fact: “Follow me. I want to do it.”