After Breaking Up with the Scumbag Girl, I Became an Alpha [Entertainment Circle] (GL) - Chapter 14

Zhong Yan’s differentiation into an Alpha was far from smooth. A Beta becoming an Alpha is rare to begin with, and it often carries various physiological complications. The day it happened was, coincidentally, during a school P.E. class.

While running, she was suddenly overcome by a wave of fever; a searing heat permeated her entire body as if something were trying to vent through her skin. Her limbs went weak, and she collapsed to her knees on the spot in intense pain. A few Alpha classmates ran over; seeing her brow furrowed and sweat pouring down despite it being early spring, they tried to take her to the infirmary.

In her dazed state, Zhong Yan came into contact with various Alpha pheromones. Each scent felt like a needle eroding her flesh. Every cell in her body screamed in rejection, and she instinctively wanted to get away. She reflexively shoved their hands away, leaving the students stunned—mostly because they hadn’t expected her to be so strong.

Later, at the hospital, she learned she had differentiated into an Alpha. When she went to the testing center, the results showed she was an S-class Alpha. Logically, this was a good thing; Alphas are naturally dominant, let alone S-class ones. However, what caused Zhong Yan to break down came afterward.

As a Beta who became an S-class Alpha, her physical constitution became highly abnormal. She developed Pheromone Hypersensitivity. As the name suggests, she rejected all pheromones. Whether it was an Alpha or an Omega, the moment her pheromones touched theirs, her body would immediately sound an alarm; her skin would sting as if pricked by needles, and her head would spin. Consequently, she was forced to use suppressants to hide her pheromones.

Recently, her suppressants had started to wear off. Zhong Yan remembered that Xu Wuhuan was an Alpha. On one hand, she didn’t want to lose her composure in front of Xu Wuhuan; on the other, she didn’t want to expose her Alpha identity to her. She couldn’t explain exactly why, but she simply didn’t want Xu Wuhuan to know more about her.

It felt as though if Xu Wuhuan knew she was an Alpha, their relationship would inexplicably grow closer—and she didn’t want any more redundant involvement with her.

The ugliness, the grief, and the joy of their past… it was better to let it all die in their damp youth, rather than letting it find a chance for rebirth in today’s reunion.

Their meeting was inherently illicit, their feelings distorted. There was no “epic love” to speak of; the gentle cliché of “rekindling a past romance after a long separation” simply did not exist.

Their best way of coexisting was for one to stand still while the other refused to walk toward them. They were separated by a thick glass window; you could glimpse my face, but it ended there. Everything between us remained invisible.

The stiffness of their relationship was known to almost the entire internet. Zhong Yan made no effort to hide her rejection of Xu Wuhuan, which influenced her fans to have a poor opinion of her. Public sentiment regarding Xu Wuhuan was polarized.

However, the effect of Xu Wuhuan recording Meng Yao’s parts in “Lying” turned out quite well. Xu Wuhuan’s voice was slightly husky and cool. Meng Yao’s segments were originally the low-spirited parts of the song; while Meng Yao’s voice was clear and soft, which fans accepted before, Xu Wuhuan’s voice seemed to truly melt into the somber tone. Rational netizens were won over by her skill. After all, talent is king, and it can often suppress resentment.

Though some remained unimpressed, Xu Wuhuan didn’t care much. Zhong Yan usually didn’t check online comments; while she knew many people were hating on Xu Wuhuan, she didn’t know the specifics. Even if she did, she likely wouldn’t react, nor would she care about the internet calling her “arrogant” or “insolent.”

Lin Yu had lectured her many times, and Zhong Yan, annoyed, eventually restrained herself slightly—at least enough to treat Xu Wuhuan normally in public. In private, however, that was a different story.

Despite the criticism, “Lying” became the best-selling album of the year, a slap in the face to the haters. It had been three months since Xu Wuhuan joined Zero. Under Lin Yu and the PR department’s management, Zero slowly returned to its peak, with Xu Wuhuan’s talent and looks playing a significant role.

Recently, Zero was invited for a shoot with Atem magazine, the most popular magazine brand in mainland China. Being invited proved Xu Wuhuan’s status and generated massive hype.

The theme of the shoot was “Good vs. Evil.” The outfits were divided into two categories: Demons and Angels.

Zhong Yan and Chu Yun were the “Fallen” Demons; Xu Wuhuan and Jiang Cha were the “Virtuous” Angels.

Zhong Yan wore a dark-themed dress with long tassels on the shoulders that reached her wrists, complementing her black sheer gloves. The hem reached her ankles, paired with thin black stilettos. Her makeup was intense: pale skin and lips so red they looked ready to drip blood. Because her face was naturally soft and her eyes looked innocent, the makeup artist elongated her eyeliner and added dark eyeshadow. Her slightly curled hair hung loose. She looked like a “Dark Lolita.”

When Xu Wuhuan saw Zhong Yan’s drastically different appearance, she froze for a moment. She had to admit, Zhong Yan suited this dark style perfectly. It was strange; despite her “sweet girl” face, she was stunning in this style, with no sense of mismatch.

Zhong Yan was uncomfortable with the necklace around her neck. Unable to see the clasp behind her, she was fumbling blindly. A pair of cool hands touched the back of her hand, followed by Xu Wuhuan’s voice from behind: “Let me help you.”

Zhong Yan instinctively wanted to refuse. “I don’t need you. I can do it myself.”

The words were easy, but her hands were uncooperative. After fumbling behind her back for a while with no success, Zhong Yan grew increasingly angry, her face darkening as she nearly snapped the necklace.

Xu Wuhuan laughed inwardly but kept her face neutral, using a normal tone: “The shoot is starting soon. Let me help.”

Knowing Xu Wuhuan was giving her a way out, Zhong Yan gave a stiff “Oh” and stood still.

Xu Wuhuan’s cool fingertips intentionally or unintentionally brushed against Zhong Yan’s neck. Everywhere she touched sent a strange, cold, tingling sensation through her. Zhong Yan was left restless by the touch.

Too close, she thought. Why is this woman so close? Can her hands stop touching my neck? Are her hands made of ice? Freezing!!

Unaware of Zhong Yan’s illogical internal monologue, Xu Wuhuan finished. Zhong Yan muttered a quick “thanks” and hurried away. Xu Wuhuan saw a trace of panic in Zhong Yan’s retreating back and curled her lips into a smirk.

Chu Yun wore a bright red dress and a high ponytail, representing a vivid, intense “Fall.”

Xu Wuhuan wore a pure white dress with a chain-like belt at the waist. Her wide sleeves hung down to her fingers, exposing her clean neck. Her makeup was light, portraying a “Pure” Angel. Jiang Cha wore a green knee-length dress, representing a “Lively” Angel.

Perhaps the photographer wanted to create a gimmick, as they paired Xu Wuhuan and Zhong Yan together.

Xu Wuhuan was locked inside a cage; Zhong Yan was outside. The Angel was imprisoned; the Demon reigned supreme.

Zhong Yan sat atop the cage, her legs dangling lazily. She held a black rope, one end of which was tied to Xu Wuhuan’s left wrist. Xu Wuhuan sat on a rose swing; the contrast between white and red was visually striking.

Xu Wuhuan looked up at Zhong Yan. Zhong Yan looked down, the corners of her lips curved in an imperceptible arc, an eyebrow raised as she looked at Xu Wuhuan with a playful, condescending expression.

Xu Wuhuan’s expression was cold and calm, her eyes carrying a complex chill. The Angel was inherently aloof, even when crushed to dust; the Demon was naturally wicked, acting on whim, loving the fall, and disregarding ethics.

The Angel was imprisoned in the Demon’s roses, while the Demon toyed with her in anticipation.

Their expressions were so perfectly in character that the photographer snapped photos continuously. The onlookers were stunned. They marveled at the scene, unaware that in the two women’s locked gaze, there was a fathomless current—an unutterable emotion composed of evil, hatred, and twisted love.

They might have been drowning in this abyss, perhaps never having climbed out.

During the shoot, the staff arranged some “mini-games” to increase engagement.

In their separate dressing rooms, Zhong Yan received her task: “Find a way to get one of your teammates to kiss your cheek or say something romantic to you.”

Though a bit cliché, this kind of thing always excites netizens. In a group, a kiss on the cheek is normal and harmless; the fans just wanted to see who would do it to Zhong Yan.

Zhong Yan went to Jiang Cha’s room first, hugging her from behind and acting cute. “Captain, am I cute?”

This wasn’t new; the internet was full of clips of Zhong Yan acting spoiled with her members.

Jiang Cha didn’t know what she was up to and laughed. “Yes, cute.”

Zhong Yan took the chance: “I’m so cute, so do you like me?”

Jiang Cha saw through her immediately and shook her head with a smile. “No, I don’t.”

Zhong Yan pouted, knowing she’d been caught. “Captain, you didn’t give me any face.” Jiang Cha just laughed and pinched her cheek.

Zhong Yan walked out, sighing for the camera as if it were a scripted drama. “Alas, an unlucky start.”

Next, she went to Chu Yun. Perhaps Zhong Yan’s acting was too poor; before she could even finish the word “like,” Chu Yun rejected her flatly, teasing: “You’re not my type, sorry! Hahaha!” Zhong Yan messaged her hair into a mess in frustration while Chu Yun laughed.

Now, only one person was left. Zhong Yan truly did not want to go to Xu Wuhuan. Either task—the kiss or the romance—would be mortifying.

But the cameras were rolling. If she let her emotions get in the way, Lin Yu would likely skin her alive.

She had no choice but to brace herself. Xu Wuhuan had changed into a blue striped shirt and black pants. Seeing Zhong Yan enter through the mirror, her eyes lit up.

Zhong Yan noticed that look, which made her even more uncomfortable.

Since rumors about their relationship were inconsistent, Lin Yu had urged her more than once not to act on impulse and to get along with Xu Wuhuan.

Zhong Yan decided she didn’t want to hear Lin Yu’s nagging anymore and figured she could use this opportunity to dispel the scandalous rumors online.

Getting Xu Wuhuan to kiss her was impossible—absolutely impossible. So, she decided to get her to say something romantic, and then later clarify it was just a game. Perfect.

Having made up her mind, she stepped forward, racking her brain for a way to trigger a romantic line.

“…It’s a bit cold outside.” The search failed. She couldn’t find a way and could only start with a stiff topic. It was late autumn, and the city turned cold quickly.

Xu Wuhuan smiled. “It is a bit.”

Zhong Yan sat next to her, not knowing what to say. The conversation was dying. Zhong Yan wanted to disappear on the spot. The difficulty is too high; I probably can’t finish this.

Xu Wuhuan wasn’t an idiot; she knew Zhong Yan came with a task, but she didn’t know what it was. To keep the atmosphere from dying, she smiled and provided an opening: “You seem very cold.”

Zhong Yan gave a blank “Ah?” She was only wearing a single layer; it was naturally cold, but she hadn’t expected Xu Wuhuan to notice.

Xu Wuhuan was in the middle of her makeup and couldn’t move much. She simply gave a soft smile, her eyes looking like they held spring water.

“It’s okay. This winter, I can warm your hands for you.”