After Secretly Marrying My Rival Omega - Chapter 1

Tonight, in Jing City, the stars gathered brilliantly, illuminating the sky above Xinghuo TV Station as bright as day. The late spring chill had passed, and the weather had been consistently pleasant, so the organizers had specially set up an outdoor stage this time. Fans holding light-up banners were excitedly filing in, orderly yet hurried. This was the most anticipated and prestigious annual awards ceremony in the industry. The seats closest to the stage were already filled, except for two conspicuously empty spots in the center.

These were reserved by default for the award-winning guests, and these two were undoubtedly the heaviest of heavyweights—the absolute center positions. Every staff member who passed by couldn’t help but glance at the seats, only to stiffen upon seeing the names on them, swallowing back the exclamation that nearly escaped their lips—were they really not afraid of causing a scene? How could they seat these two together?

In the control room, the camera briefly panned to the front seats, where the names “Jian Jixing” and “Sheng Ruxi” flashed by before the director hastily cut away, visibly nervous.

“Sheng-jie, is… is Director Jian still coming?”

Gu Shengci checked her phone. Fifteen minutes ago, Jian Jixing had said she was stuck in traffic and hadn’t responded since. She clicked her tongue. “She will. Adjust the schedule—delay it by ten minutes. Have you informed Sheng Ruxi’s team?” It was strange. Jian Jixing was always punctual to a fault—Gu Shengci had never seen her late before.

The staff member let out a long sigh, looking as if they were suffering through an ordeal. “How could we dare bring it up again?” they said, still shaken. “Sheng-laoshi already threw a fit when she found out Director Jian was presenting her award today. If she hears it’s being delayed too… she’ll explode.”

Everyone knew Sheng Ruxi had a spoiled temper. Rumor had it her family background was formidable, and she’d been pampered since childhood. But no one could deny her professional prowess—her face was flawlessly beautiful, like a blooming rose. A rose with thorns, impossible to ignore.

The young miss had entered the entertainment industry and made a name for herself, climbing from one peak to the next. Even more widely known than her background was her long-standing feud with Jian Jixing, dating back to their youth. From the moment they entered the industry, they had been like fire and water—utterly incompatible. Only someone as bold as today’s producer, Gu Shengci, would dare pair them together, hoping the formal occasion might help thaw their icy relationship.

And yet, one refused to take the stage, while the other hadn’t even shown up at the studio.

Perfect. Backstage in the lounge, Sheng Ruxi sat on the sofa like a proud peacock, her back perfectly straight. Under the spotlight, Sheng Ruxi always maintained her beautiful, haughty demeanor—never bowing her head. It was instinct, ingrained in her since childhood through rigorous etiquette training.

She always got what she wanted. In her life so far, only two things had ever made her feel defeated. The first was failing to win Chu Wu’s affection during high school. But it didn’t matter—her rival and love competitor, Jian Jixing, had also failed. Worse, Sheng Ruxi had uncovered a secret about her. Her own failure might have been embarrassing, but her rival’s failure brought her immense satisfaction.

As for the second thing… Sheng Ruxi stared at her phone, at Jian Jixing’s chat window, and clenched it in frustration. Three minutes ago, staff had already informed her that her award presentation would be delayed by fifteen minutes. For whom? Sheng Ruxi could naturally guess. The name Jian Jixing carried an undeniable weight even in the Starfire Pavilion, shining brilliantly.

As the youngest dark horse in the current director’s circle, Jian Jixing was someone everyone wanted to curry favor with, all hoping to make a connection with her tonight. Even with a frown, Sheng Ruxi’s striking features outshone all the jewelry she wore. She lowered her head slightly, her snow-white neck appearing long and graceful under the lights, like flowing milk.

If not for the faint soreness emanating from her scent gland, she wouldn’t have bothered considering whether to reach out to Jian Jixing. Her assistant, Tuanzi, had already received the news that Jian Jixing would be arriving late. Hesitating for a moment, she said, “The production team arranged for you two to be together this time, hoping you could put past grievances aside…”

“Grievances? What grievances could I possibly have with her?” Sheng Ruxi tilted her head back with a cold snort. The diamond earrings cast swaying reflections along her shoulders. She lifted her leg slightly, the delicate stiletto heels dangling precariously beneath her ankles, exuding an air of spoiled elegance—yet her words were anything but forgiving.

“It’s better if she doesn’t come. That way, Wuwu will only have eyes for me.” After gulping down half a glass of water, she finally felt the restless irritation in her chest ease slightly. She averted her gaze from her phone screen. She would never repeat the mistake she made two months ago—only Jian Jixing would ever be the one begging for her mercy.

Several kilometers away from the studio, a heavy motorcycle was speeding down the wide road. The woman in riding gear effortlessly controlled the steel beast, her hair fluttering beneath her helmet. Though her face was obscured, her all-black attire blended into the night yet stood out dazzlingly. The motorcycle came to a stop at a red light. Someone behind immediately recognized the tall, striking figure and the audacious Beijing-A license plate—who else could it be but Jian Jixing?

“Jian Jixing!!!!”

“Ahhhh! It’s Director Jian! Director Jian, look this way!”

“Has Director Jian ever let anyone ride pillion before?”

“…”

The woman on the motorcycle didn’t hesitate to exude charm, lifting the visor of her helmet to reveal eyes as deep as the night. She flashed a smile at the cameras, revved the engine, and sped off. By the time Jian Jixing arrived at the studio entrance, staff were already waiting.

“Director Jian, your award presentation with Sheng Ruxi has been delayed by ten minutes. There’s still time to head over now.” With her long legs, Jian Jixing strode ahead, leaving the staff member panting to keep up—until Jian Jixing turned and, with an amused smile, steadied them with a hand. The staff member blushed, pressing a hand to their racing heart. No wonder she was known as the “wrench” of the entertainment industry. Even though she had publicly stated she was still waiting for her first love, countless Omegas still vied for her attention.

Actresses, in particular, competed fiercely for roles in her films. When skeptics doubted her ability to direct commercial films, Jian Jixing proved them wrong this year with a new movie that broke through the competition, sweeping awards and cementing her status as a genius director.

Jian Jixing glanced casually at her phone. On the screen, in the chat labeled “Miss Spoiled,” her exchanges with Sheng Ruxi were sparse, spanning months between messages.

Two months ago, after adding each other as friends, Jian Jixing sent her first message fifteen days later.

Jian Jixing: Today?

The Young Miss: Still not begging me!

Two minutes later, Sheng Ruxi video called, but Jian Jixing declined. Two days later, the Young Miss: [Fulfill your obligation.]

Jian Jixing: On set. No interest in biting.

Last month, Jian Jixing proactively messaged: Today?

The Young Miss: No interest in being bitten.

Two more days passed—likely the Young Miss’s heat cycle had arrived—when the stubborn Sheng Ruxi contacted her in a stiff tone: [Share a bed for a night.]

Jian Jixing: On set. Can’t share.

The Young Miss: Don’t talk too much. I don’t want to feel like I’m being bitten by a dog.

Jian Jixing found her words grating and stopped replying. Then yesterday, the Young Miss suddenly reached out late at night: Share a bed for a night.

Following this, earlier today, the Young Miss sent a picture. The text in the image stated that Jian Jixing’s most low-key Range Rover had been in an accident and sent to the repair shop.

The Young Miss even complained: Didn’t deliver my gown. The car’s no good—just like its owner.

Jian Jixing had been amused by this excuse many times before, each instance leaving her in awe of Sheng Ruxi’s sheer audacity. Last night, though Sheng Ruxi’s expected heat cycle was delayed, they still spent the night together at the villa.

For tonight’s awards ceremony, Sheng Ruxi wanted to appear in her most stunning form, unprecedentedly starting her styling at 7 a.m. Her million-dollar haute couture gown required a special trip to a VIP boutique, and no ordinary car was worthy of her ensemble—so the store’s staff had been sent to retrieve the car Jian Jixing had originally planned to drive. A minor accident occurred, resulting in a scratch, which also caused Jian Jixing’s tardiness today.

But she was certain Sheng Ruxi felt no remorse and was probably still backstage cursing her. With ten minutes left and still no sign of Jian Jixing, Sheng Ruxi slightly curled her lips and lifted her chin, waiting for the host to call her name first so she could take the stage to accept her award.

The cameras had already turned toward her. Just as Sheng Ruxi prepared to step onto the stage herself, a cool breeze brushed her cheeks, the sudden chill raising goosebumps along her exposed back. Her body’s cells recognized the deep, faint yet oppressive scent of sandalwood before she did, freezing her in place.

Alongside Sheng Ruxi’s radiant face in the camera frame appeared another striking, confident beauty.

Jian Jixing had piercingly dark, luminous eyes, high and pronounced brow bones that lent her gaze an aggressive allure, and slightly upturned outer corners that made her seem unattainable. Her jet-black hair was elegantly coiled, her pale skin contrasting with crimson lips. Noticing the camera, she arched a brow and smiled. The frost melted like snow. Draped in a trailing red gown, she was breathtakingly dazzling. Under the spotlight, every step she took felt like it landed on the audience’s heartstrings.

“Apologies for the wait. A thief struck my home this morning, and I couldn’t find what I needed, hence the delay.” Holding the prestigious award with nonchalance, she casually waved it at the camera for her fans, explaining her late arrival.

Jian Jixing’s gaze briefly swept over Sheng Ruxi in the audience. “I’m someone who commits wholeheartedly to everything. This outcome isn’t surprising.” Her smile charmed countless fans watching the live broadcast. Her eyes were exquisite, shining like the brightest star against the deep night sky. Yet when Sheng Ruxi stepped onto the stage, even the host’s grip on the microphone grew damp with sweat.

Sheng Ruxi’s features were equally striking—her beauty was the kind that had been meticulously preserved since childhood. Like flawless porcelain, untouched by hardship, her allure carried an edge, yet it was softened by an air of innocence and purity, as if she had never known the harshness of the world.

That face was her greatest weapon. Even her spoiled, aristocratic demeanor seemed justified, making people willingly indulge her. Standing at 168 cm barefoot, even in heels, she was still slightly shorter than Jian Jixing. In good spirits, Jian adjusted the microphone for her, lowering it slightly. What’s this? Starting with subtle jabs now?

Sheng Ruxi immediately shot her a glance, refusing to accommodate the gesture. Instead, she tilted her chin up and asked an attendant for a wet wipe, wiping the microphone clean—making their mutual disdain unmistakably clear. “…And now, let us announce the winner of this year’s Golden Phoenix Award for Best Actress… Please welcome Director Jian to present the award to our esteemed Sheng Ruxi.”

Jian Jixing picked up the golden statuette from the attendant’s tray, glancing at the wet wipes nearby. She briefly considered wiping it herself—just to avoid Sheng Ruxi making another fuss on camera and wasting time. Instead, she briskly handed the trophy over. The two stood side by side on the stage, yet neither spared the other a glance.

Seizing the moment, the host asked, “Will we ever see the two of you collaborate in the future? A powerhouse duo like yours would surely deliver a cinematic feast for fans.”

Jian Jixing remained unruffled, as if entirely unfazed by Sheng Ruxi’s earlier antics. She replied offhandedly, “That’s unlikely. My filming conditions are grueling—no need for Her Excellency Sheng to suffer unnecessarily.” Jian had a habit of putting her entire cast through military-style training before shoots—something Sheng Ruxi had once dismissed as “manufactured hardship.”

Who would’ve thought Jian kept up with the gossip, even throwing it back at Sheng during her big moment? “How kind of Director Jian to worry about me,” Sheng Ruxi stood tall as a swan, flashing an impeccable smile. “You should take care of yourself too—keep contributing to cinematic history. Though, I must admit, your films are a bit too abstract for me. I don’t understand them, let alone act in them.”

Sheng Ruxi had risen to fame rapidly, and at just twenty-two, she had already secured her second Golden Phoenix Award. It was common knowledge that Jian Jixing was two years her senior. Yet, telling Jian to “take care of herself” carried more than a hint of condescension.

The audience fell into stunned silence. No one expected the evening’s most anticipated director and leading actress—the grand finale guests—to trade barbs on stage. The two women seemed perfectly composed, still smiling, leaving everyone else to bear the awkwardness.

The host scrambled to smooth things over, and the crowd, ever tactful, erupted into thunderous applause—whether genuine or polite—showering the pair with congratulations and scrutinizing gazes. As they left the stage, Jian Jixing slowed her steps slightly, while Sheng Ruxi strode ahead briskly. Adjusting her gown, Sheng flicked the hem with her stiletto, revealing a glimpse of nearly translucent skin that flashed before Jian’s eyes.

Then, without a backward glance, Sheng Ruxi swept toward the live broadcast cameras to greet her fans. At the awards ceremony, all guests who received their awards had to spend some time in front of the staff cameras to interact with fans.

Sheng Ruxi swayed her little golden trophy in front of the camera: “Wuwu, are you watching? Look, I got another one.” Her tone was so proud, as if showing off to her girlfriend. Jian Jixing stood nearby and saw Chu Wu sending a “Dream Castle” gift under a garbled account name. The fans didn’t recognize her, mistaking her for some generous wealthy patron, but both she and Sheng Ruxi naturally knew it was Chu Wu.

Jian Jixing caught sight of Sheng Ruxi’s triumphant expression—kitten-like, scratching at her heart—and couldn’t help but think of the unspoken taunt behind it: See? You just can’t measure up, can you? This little fox knew exactly which words annoyed her most, yet insisted on dancing all over that minefield.

But backing down? Not a chance. Jian Jixing leisurely approached with the cue card she’d received during the awards presentation, waving it playfully. “Professor Chu, see this? I even got to present an award. Not bad, huh?” Since neither of us has won you over, you ought to love us equally—no favoritism.

Chu Wu understood. The screen displayed her sending an identical gift, prompting bewildered fans to flood the chat: Sis!! Stop gifting!! First time seeing someone stan both Xixi and Jian Jian—this is cursed, are you okay?!

“Jian Jixing, Jian Jixing…” Sheng Ruxi gritted her teeth. “You just have to compete with me here, don’t you?” Even when frowning, she was stunning. Her haughty tone somehow never came across as rude.

“Just catching up with an old friend. Why so upset?” Jian Jixing feigned surprise, her voice teasing. “Unless… what is your relationship with Professor Chu, Best Actress Sheng? Almost thought you two were a couple.” She leaned in, angling to appear in the vertical-frame shot. Her breath was light as silk threads, brushing against Sheng Ruxi’s shoulder and ear.

Too close. Too clear. Sheng Ruxi yanked off her earpiece and stormed backstage without another word, abandoning all pretense. Once in the dressing room, she immediately asked Tuanzi to fetch suppressants—only for Jian Jixing to follow right behind. Sinking into the sofa, Jian Jixing carelessly set aside the trophy coveted by every director. Her posture was the polar opposite of Sheng Ruxi’s: lazy, unrestrained, impossible to pin down.

Like her films. Like her—radically unconventional. Many adored Jian Jixing’s effortless charm, claiming she seemed like someone who’d been perfectly polished by past lovers. But Sheng Ruxi didn’t. And never would. The door clicked shut, sealing them in. A warm, caramel-like scent gradually permeated the space—sweet, mellow, like sunlight spilling over a hayloft. A stark contrast to that prickly kitten’s usual pheromones.

Jian Jixing’s lips curved slightly, an uncharacteristic hint of indulgence in her expression as she reached forward, as if to pull Sheng Ruxi’s chair closer for a deeper inhale.

All Sheng Ruxi saw in her face was mocking amusement. She lifted her foot, leaned back, and extended her slender leg from beneath the fringed hem of her skirt, pressing the heel of her shoe imperiously onto Jian Jixing’s knee. There wasn’t much force behind it, yet Jian Jixing’s body sank deeper into the couch.

Oddly enough, it was Sheng Ruxi—the one doing the stepping—whose breathing hitched slightly. Her delayed estrus was about to hit, and without any suppressants on hand, she felt unbearably restless. And of all people, it had to be Jian Jixing in front of her. Sheng Ruxi pursed her lips, recalling their earlier clash at the awards ceremony. Jian Jixing was waiting for her to speak. She met her gaze and, instead, smirked. “Today?”

Sheng Ruxi, “Not interested in being bitten.”

“When will you stop being so stubborn?”

“Who’s more stubborn than Director Jian?” Sheng Ruxi’s temper flared at the sight of her lazy demeanor. She spread her arms casually to the sides, as if this were her domain—as if she were just begging to have her façade torn off. She hated Jian Jixing. A beautiful shell masking nothing but a villain who used her charm for mischief!

Sheng Ruxi’s soft, snow-white fingers fished out a scent patch. She swept her long hair aside and pressed it over her scent gland before speaking again, slow and deliberate. “When Director Jian bites my gland, it feels like grinding against stone.”

Jian Jixing studied that devastatingly beautiful face. Even after years of rivalry, she had to admit Sheng Ruxi was stunning. A true enchantress. And right now, this enchantress seemed oblivious to what her actions meant in front of an Alpha.

If Sheng Ruxi had been a little more cautious, a little more guarded, she wouldn’t have slipped into her room that night. The thought made Jian Jixing’s gaze drift from Sheng Ruxi’s scent gland down to the high heel planted on her knee.

A slender stiletto, but Jian Jixing felt no pain—only a faint, damp tartness of berries when Sheng Ruxi shifted her foot. That naive tartness had already sharpened into something far more unmistakable.

When Jian Jixing remained silent, Sheng Ruxi tilted her chin up and sneered, “Ah, but then again, Director Jian is so virtuous, so committed to Alpha ethics. Twenty-eight years single, all for the sake of an unrequited love.”

Too caught up in her taunts, she didn’t notice the darkening of Jian Jixing’s eyes.nHaving caught her breath, Sheng Ruxi delivered her verdict: “Jian Jixing, who would’ve guessed the real reason is that you’re completely immune to all omegas’ pheromones—” Before she could finish, her earring swayed violently.

Jian Jixing’s hand closed around her heel, lifting it abruptly—until the stiletto resting on her knee now pressed against her own chest.

Sheng Ruxi’s gasp was smothered by a dry, warm palm. Then, without loosening her grip, Jian Jixing suddenly stood, leaning forward, forcing Sheng Ruxi’s leg up until it nearly draped over her shoulder. Sheng Ruxi’s body was pliant, but the position strained her, her instep trembling from the unfamiliar stretch.

Then, the hand over her lips withdrew. Sheng Ruxi was furious, humiliated—mostly furious. But she had the unfortunate habit of crying when angry, and before she could even start berating Jian Jixing, tears spilled uncontrollably, one after another.

This posture would have been flirtation between lovers. But she and Jian Jixing had never been anything close.

“Thanks to heaven’s favor, I found an omega who’s perfectly compatible with me against all odds.” Jian Jixing’s voice turned cold with a magnetic edge. She reached out with her other hand, catching a tear from Sheng Ruxi on her fingertip, then rubbed it between her fingers before brushing it insolently across Sheng Ruxi’s cheek.

“Sheng Ruxi, you only soften your words when begging me to bite you.” Sheng Ruxi truly loathed her to the core. Having been at odds for years, Sheng Ruxi instantly understood Jian Jixing’s intention. Jian Jixing was waiting for her to beg—that was the expression of a hunter lying in wait.