A Heartless Omega Regrets It When I’m Dying - Chapter 8

Lin Wantang was jolted awake.

She opened her eyes to find Wen Zhiqing’s bottomless, ink-black eyes staring at her fixedly, like a deep pool capable of swallowing her whole.

Lin Wantang instinctively lifted her wrist to check the time, only to realize a moment later that her role had already wrapped.

“You talked in your sleep a lot last night.”

Lin Wantang lowered her gaze, trying her best to avoid eye contact. “I’m sorry. I must have disturbed you.”

Wen Zhiqing remained silent for a moment. She didn’t know what Lin Wantang had dreamed about, but the soft murmurs had been different from her usual tone—the habitual gentleness was gone, replaced by a sense of helpless grievance.

How noisy, Wen Zhiqing had thought at the time. She felt she should have woken Lin Wantang up immediately and kicked her out of the bedroom.

And she had tried. Wen Zhiqing had given Lin Wantang a light push, attempting to wake the “liar” who was affecting her sleep.

“What am I going to do in the future?” Lin Wantang hadn’t woken up; she had continued to mutter nonsensical dreams. “I want a bouquet too, and a small cake… why won’t you give them to me?”

It was all illogical babble. Wen Zhiqing had turned her back on Lin in annoyance, but even with her eyes closed, the dream-talk continued to pour into her ears.

“Houses are so expensive… I can’t afford one. Is there a smaller one?”

Wen Zhiqing owned so many properties; whenever she grew tired of this villa, she simply moved to another. Yet Lin Wantang was actually worrying about housing in her dreams. Even if Lin did buy a house, what of it? Did she intend to have the nerve to bring Wen along to live in some sixty-square-meter matchbox?

It was simply preposterous.

As soon as dawn broke, Wen Zhiqing opened her eyes and stared at the culprit, waiting for her to wake up.

In the end, all she got was a flimsy “I’m sorry.”

After hearing the apology, Wen Zhiqing let out a soft scoff: “And?”

Lin Wantang wasn’t fully awake yet. She instinctively tilted her head toward the sound, her eyes still clouded with a mist that hadn’t quite dissipated.

Bathed in that soft gaze, Wen Zhiqing felt a sudden flush of heat. She couldn’t help but remember the times she had been teased too harshly; when she had whimpered, Lin Wantang would look at her just like this. Her eyes were so pure, yet her fingers never stopped moving.

Wen Zhiqing’s cheeks felt a bit hot. She turned her head away and heard Lin Wantang’s quiet apology: “I’m sorry, maybe I haven’t been resting well lately. Next time…”

“Don’t say another word. If it happens again, you sleep outside.”

Lin Wantang habitually quirked the corners of her lips. “Alright, I understand.”

She thought that perhaps she really didn’t love Wen Zhiqing anymore. Because the moment she heard those words, the first thought that crossed her mind wasn’t the worry that she wouldn’t be able to care for Wen while sleeping alone—it was a yearning for liberation.

Lin Wantang suddenly felt a pang of sadness—sadness for no longer loving Wen Zhiqing. In her youth, she believed her love for Wen would never fade, but now she couldn’t even remember the exact moment that love had died.

It turned out she wasn’t as steadfast as she had imagined.

Lin Wantang smiled with a sense of relief, though her expression was earnest. “I’m sorry.”

Senior, I’m sorry. I once silently promised, while we faced a sea of flowers, that I would love you forever. In the end, I broke my word.

Wen Zhiqing’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly. Lin Wantang was smiling at her, yet she felt an inexplicable sense of sorrow.

But Wen Zhiqing didn’t dwell on it. She simply wanted to escape this uncomfortable atmosphere. Without a word, she left the bedroom.

When Lin Wantang finished washing up and went downstairs, she saw that Wen Zhiqing had barely touched her breakfast. She didn’t say anything.

However, Aunt Zhao, who was standing nearby, sighed upon seeing Lin Wantang. “You don’t need to deliver breakfast to President Wen’s office today. She has an appointment and might not even go to the company.”

Whenever Wen Zhiqing skipped breakfast, Lin Wantang would personally deliver it to her office. Even a bystander like Aunt Zhao was moved, yet Wen Zhiqing never seemed to be.

“An appointment?”

Lin Wantang asked casually. Seeing Aunt Zhao guiltily shift her gaze, she nodded in understanding.

She already guessed who the person was, but she didn’t care anymore. Lin Wantang decided to sit down and eat her own breakfast first.

“Actually, this happens when people are together for a long time. Just endure it and it’ll pass,” Aunt Zhao said, attempting to console her. “Once you realize it’s all small stuff, you’ll feel better.”

“Yes, it’s all small stuff.”

Lin Wantang nodded, unbothered as she scooped another spoonful of pork congee. “I’ve already figured it out.”

The steam from the congee misted her eyes, but she blinked and felt no urge to cry.

Aunt Zhao nodded in approval. “Exactly. At the end of the day, you’re the Alpha, and your pheromone compatibility with President Wen is so high. Just stay in this house and don’t leave—what can she do? It’s not like that person can just move in, right?”

At the mention of the house, Lin Wantang paused for a moment, then smiled without further explanation. She really had no attachment to this place anymore.

After finishing her congee, Lin Wantang had no intention of staying in the villa. She grabbed her laptop and headed out as usual.

Since she was restricted to North City, she had to look for work within the city’s limited film crews. There weren’t many. Lin Wantang patiently filtered through roles and sent her resume to casting directors.

But the entire morning passed without a single positive reply. The few responses she did receive were brief, clear rejections. They wouldn’t even give her an audition.

[Wantang, have you started sending resumes to other crews?]

While Lin was refreshing her email, she received a text from Li Wen.

[Yes, but I’ve been rejected by all of them so far.]

Li Wen hesitated before deciding to tell her everything: [Wantang, it seems that because you’re implicated in some kidnapping case, most crews around here are afraid to use you.]

[And these crews are all connected. Our crew already knows you’re looking for work everywhere.]

Lin Wantang’s fingers faltered over the keys. She typed a few words, deleted them one by one, and finally sent a simple thank you: [Alright, I understand. Thank you.]

Staring at the screen, she suddenly felt a sense of loss.

Though her love had faded, she didn’t regret switching places with Wen Zhiqing. Regardless of everything, protecting her wife was a responsibility she owed to the marriage.

She just hadn’t expected it to affect her career.

Yet, she couldn’t blame anyone. She was Wen Zhiqing’s legal partner, and the police were just doing their jobs. Wen Zhiqing knew nothing of the fallout, so she hadn’t intentionally caused Lin to lose her job. Lin Wantang could only hope the investigation would end soon.

Once it ended, she could go back to work. For now, she’d just have to refine her acting skills.

She went to close her laptop but caught a glimpse of an entertainment headline climbing the trending charts. She stared at the blurry paparazzi photo for a few seconds, her face showing no emotion. A moment later, she clicked the mouse with a sharp sound.

There were only two people in the photo: Wen Zhiqing and Qi Yishu.

Even in the blurry image, Wen Zhiqing’s beautiful face was clear. But unlike her usual coldness, a radiant smile was spreading across her features.

Lin Wantang felt a brief daze. That was the smile she had spent three years of marriage longing to see on Wen Zhiqing’s face—a smile she had never received.

Their marriage was indeed a long, three-year mistake. For both her and Wen Zhiqing, it was a form of torture. They were prisoners bound by the same shackles.

She scrolled through the comments. Predictably, they were all praising how well-matched the two were.

“Two goddess-level beauties! Wishing them 99 (forever)!”

“Director Qi’s beauty goes without saying. Who’s the other one? She looks just as good as Director Qi. Just checked the watch—it’s a Patek Philippe private collection piece. You can’t buy that with just money.”

“Don’t you guys read financial news? That’s President Wen!”

“Wen Zhiqing? It’s one thing to be that rich, but why is she so pretty? [Envious][Envious]”

“But isn’t President Wen married? Her partner isn’t Director Qi, right?”

“So what? It just means President Wen’s Alpha is a loser. She had her chance and blew it. Better to step down and make room for someone better. [KSWL – dying of sweetness]”

Lin Wantang looked back at the blurry photo of Wen Zhiqing’s smiling mouth and felt that the top comments made a lot of sense.

She rubbed her dry eyes, closed the trending page, and began to seriously research the legal divorce procedures for Alphas and Omegas.

Wen Zhiqing had a professional legal team. She likely wouldn’t need to find her own lawyer; Wen Zhiqing probably wouldn’t trust her to draft the agreement anyway.

Lin Wantang continued reading the legal clauses. If both parties agree to the terms, there is a 15-day “pheromone marking clearance” observation period before the marriage can be fully terminated.

She had never fully marked Wen Zhiqing, but the 15-day period was unavoidable. It was a legal protection for Omegas; if within those 15 days the Omega feels they still physiologically need the Alpha, the marriage continues until they no longer do.

It didn’t look like getting a divorce would be difficult.

Lin Wantang closed her laptop and pressed her dry eyes again. She forced herself not to think about how, three years ago, she had read through the marriage clauses over and over again.

The setting sun dyed the sea of clouds a gentle orange-pink. Lin Wantang stood up and walked out, merging into the warm light. She looked up at the grand brilliance, her eyes reflecting the glow. Suddenly, she felt she didn’t love the moonlight at night quite so much anymore.

Returning to the villa just in time for dinner, Lin Wantang was surprised to find Wen Zhiqing already home. Wen was leaning casually against the sofa cushions, her thick black hair cascading like silk, framing her features which looked like they were finely drawn by a brush.

When she saw Lin Wantang, Wen Zhiqing only lifted her eyes. Lin’s eyes seemed slightly red, though it was almost unnoticeable if one didn’t look closely.

Had Lin Wantang been crying? Because of that boring trending topic?

“I didn’t expect you to shed tears as well. Is it because you can’t act anymore? Or are you feeling a sense of crisis because of the news?”

Wen thought the only thing that could make a money-hungry liar like Lin Wantang cry was the fear of losing her meal ticket.

“I didn’t cry.” Lin Wantang looked at Wen Zhiqing’s mocking eyes. She took a deep breath and finally asked calmly, “How do you know I can’t act anymore?”

Wen Zhiqing turned her head away, not deigning to answer. Lin could clearly see her slightly arched, pale neck, which caught the warm light but refused to take on any earthly color.

Lin Wantang realized her question was foolish. There was no point in obsessing over such details. She thought it would be better to bring up the divorce as soon as possible.

But as the words she had rehearsed a thousand times reached her lips, she suddenly heard a faint kitten’s meow.

Looking down, she saw a tiny kitten that couldn’t even stand steadily yet. It was wobbly poking its half-fluffy head out from behind Wen Zhiqing’s slender ankle.