Chapter 3

◎I’m Serious.◎

Liang Shi woke up in a hospital.

The acrid tang of disinfectant assaulted her senses. Clear, bright windows. A loose hospital gown with blue-and-white stripes. A ward entirely empty of people.

The scene left her disoriented.

Had everything before been nothing but a dream?

Liang Shi was an actress, with no formal training. Before entering the entertainment circle, she’d been a working-class drifter who cycled through job after job, living a hard life but staying strong. She’d been orphaned young, raised by her grandparents, but both of them passed away during her adolescence.

By high school, when her last remaining family member died, she had no source of income and was forced to drop out. Being young, her options were limited, so she worked in restaurant kitchens prepping ingredients. Gradually, to cover her living expenses, she held down as many as five jobs at once. Later she heard extras could earn good money, so she went to Hengdian.

Because of her looks, she was scouted by a talent agency in Hengdian and landed a role as the second female lead. It was a modest hit, and from there her career in the entertainment circle took off.

But then, after she starred alongside Sun Chengcheng in a yuri drama, her co-star constantly praised her own image at Liang Shi’s expense, tying them together in the press and dumping all the blame on her. Liang Shi’s reputation in the industry took a nosedive, and she became a public target.

Sun Chengcheng even accused her of sexual harassment during filming, which outed Liang Shi as a lesbian. Overnight, the public turned against her. After more than ten days of relentless cyberbullying, every company she worked with cut ties.

She went to a bar to drink away her sorrows, and on the way out, she fell on the steps.

And then…

So was yesterday really just a dream?

She had thought she’d truly arrived in another world.

A world that would accept her sexual orientation.

She liked girls. That wasn’t wrong.

But that world wouldn’t let her like girls. They were the ones who were wrong.

Liang Shi pressed her temples. Her skull throbbed.

A moment later, a nurse peeked in, glanced at her, and hurried out. “Doctor Zhao, the patient is awake.”

Liang Shi leaned back against the bed, her thoughts already drifting to Xu Qingzhu.

That Omega stuck with the Scumbag Alpha Liang Shi would surely endure inhuman suffering. What had she ever done to deserve it?

The thought left a heavy knot in her chest.

Soon, Doctor Zhao walked into the ward, wearing a white lab coat with a cool, distant expression and gold-rimmed glasses that happened to frame a beauty mark just beneath her right eye. Her hair was casually pulled into a low ponytail.

She shoved her hands into her lab coat pockets, cast a cursory glance, adjusted the IV drip speed first, then looked down at Liang Shi. “Headache?”

For reasons unclear, Liang Shi could hear outright disgust in her voice.

Or rather, the doctor hadn’t even bothered to hide it.

“No,” Liang Shi answered gently.

Upon hearing this, Zhao Xuning made a quick mark on the chart, then looked up at her in surprise.

That wasn’t right.

Since when did the willful, domineering Eldest Miss Liang speak so gently?

Zhao Xuning withdrew her gaze and asked, “Does anything else hurt?”

Liang Shi frowned. After a beat, she raised her hand and touched the area behind her left ear. “Here.”

Ever since she woke up, that spot had been aching, though not unbearably so.

“Oh.” Zhao Xuning’s expression was flat. “The pain is normal.”

Liang Shi frowned. “Why?”

By rights, she should have hit her head or hurt her limbs in a fall. Why would only the back of her ear ache?

“Gouging out an Alpha’s gland, of course the Alpha would hurt.” Zhao Xuning’s words dripped with barbs, lies dressed up as truth. But her hands never stopped; she covertly studied Liang Shi’s expression and physical state, making mark after mark on the chart.

Gland?

Liang Shi was stunned.

Her original world had no such thing. It was a perfectly normal human world.

But she’d read plenty of ABO novels, so she understood these concepts well. Only in an ABO world did humans differentiate into Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, with Alphas and Omegas growing glands.

And she was an Alpha?

Which meant she was still inside Sweet Love.

Strangely, Liang Shi’s first reaction wasn’t panic but relief.

“What about Xu Qingzhu?” Liang Shi asked anxiously. “Is she hurt?”

Zhao Xuning: “…?”

Perhaps Zhao Xuning’s expression was too astonished, because Liang Shi suddenly realized how suspicious her question sounded.

The original host was a Scumbag Alpha whose terrible treatment of Xu Qingzhu was common knowledge. Asking about her now made Liang Shi seem either unhinged or scheming.

With that thought, she shut her mouth immediately.

“Still unconscious,” Zhao Xuning said. Her voice turned even colder at the mention of Xu Qingzhu, and she shot Liang Shi a look of undisguised disgust. “An Omega is extremely vulnerable during heat. Forcing a mark on an Omega is severely detrimental to her future fertility and causes serious bodily trauma. But…”

Zhao Xuning paused and scoffed. “Why would you care, Eldest Miss Liang?”

Liang Shi pressed her lips together.

She couldn’t explain that she wasn’t the original Liang Shi, and she couldn’t prove that those things hadn’t been done by her.

In everyone’s eyes, she was the one who had humiliated Xu Qingzhu and tried to force a mark on an Omega in heat.

“I’m sorry.” Liang Shi’s voice was soft and sincere. “Once Xu Qingzhu wakes up, I’ll explain everything to her personally.”

“Suit yourself.” Zhao Xuning leaned over and examined Liang Shi’s gland from a distance. It was inflamed and red, scratched raw by a frenzied Alpha during the rut last night. The pain was inevitable.

“Another day of observation, and if nothing’s wrong, you can be discharged,” Zhao Xuning said.

Liang Shi nodded. “Oh.”

Oh?

Zhao Xuning frowned in bewilderment. Liang Shi’s attitude today was far too strange, so unexpectedly… gentle.

And it didn’t feel like an act. It was more like courtesy and warmth woven into her very bones.

This wasn’t Zhao Xuning’s first day knowing Liang Shi.

“Liang Shi.” Zhao Xuning pocketed her pen and suddenly asked, “Do you remember who I am?”

Liang Shi looked up at her. Her eyes were clear, carrying a polite, searching inquiry. “Sorry.” She rubbed the back of her head. “My memory’s a bit fuzzy.”

“Amnesia?” Zhao Xuning reached out and touched her forehead. “Since when does a rut cause amnesia in an Alpha?”

But Liang Shi’s expression seemed genuine, so she turned and told the nurse, “Schedule her for a brain CT.”

“Thank you,” Liang Shi said.

Zhao Xuning: “…”

If Zhao Xuning hadn’t been composed since childhood, her jaw would have hit the floor.

She and Liang Shi had known each other since they were seven. She knew exactly what kind of person Liang Shi was inside and out. Words like “thank you” would never come out of Eldest Miss Liang’s mouth.

And yet…

Zhao Xuning had just heard a genuine expression of gratitude.

Truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

But Liang Shi saw nothing wrong with it.

Though the other woman’s attitude was poor, it was clear they were old acquaintances, and her misunderstanding was understandable. But Liang Shi couldn’t go on living the original host’s life. That would be unbearable.

She was going to be herself.

Faking amnesia for the moment wasn’t a bad strategy.

“May I ask,” Liang Shi began gently, “which ward is Xu Qingzhu in?”

“As if I’d tell you where her ward is.” Zhao Xuning’s retort came automatically, but after snapping, she realized her attitude was poor. She pressed her lips together and walked out of the ward after a beat.

But once she was gone, the young nurse behind her whispered: “Miss Xu is on the tenth floor. Room 1002.”

Liang Shi smiled warmly. “Thank you.”

The nurse was a Beta. Seeing the beautiful Miss Liang smile at her sent her heart racing, her cheeks flushing as she stammered shyly: “You’re welcome.”

She darted off.

Liang Shi let the smile fade.

She gazed out the window. The city’s high-rises rose in neat rows. The sky was blue and the scenery beautiful. A plane roared overhead, leaving a trail of gray vapor.

A moment later, Liang Shi made her decision. She would live well in this world.

She pieced together the fragments in her mind and found she knew precious little. Everything required exploration.

She searched online for Xu Qingzhu. The first result was the news of their marriage.

Their wedding had been held discreetly because of the Xu family enterprise crisis. Liang Shi had married her purely to possess her and hadn’t made much of an event of it.

Even so, many media outlets had reported on it.

Because Xu Qingzhu carried the title of “Haizhou’s Top Omega.”

For one simple reason: she was stunningly beautiful.

Few could balance a cool, ethereal elegance and a bewitching allure so perfectly, but Xu Qingzhu could.

In fact, she excelled at it.

Her eyes were icy, yet her beauty was seductive and tantalizing.

During university, someone posted her photo online, which quickly attracted the admiration of many Alphas.

Later, Father Xu decided it was inappropriate and paid a hefty sum to have her photos taken down from the internet. But Xu Qingzhu’s was the kind of face you never forgot after a single glance.

Xu Qingzhu had enormous popularity online, yet she never pursued a career as a celebrity.

Then, the year she graduated from university, facing the family enterprise crisis, she chose to marry Liang Shi in a marriage of alliance to save the company, after which she stayed home as a full-time housewife.

Even after finishing her research, Liang Shi couldn’t stop worrying about Xu Qingzhu. She got out of bed, slipped on slippers, and headed to the tenth floor.

This body seemed to have some memory of the hospital layout, and she found the ward without trouble.

Standing outside Room 1002, though, she hesitated, unsure how to face Xu Qingzhu.

Should she say: Actually, I’m not that Liang Shi?

Then she’d either end up in a psychiatric appraisal center or a national secret agency being dissected.

While she was deliberating, a voice came from behind her: “What are you here for? You’re not welcome.”

Liang Shi turned and saw Xu Qingzhu’s best friend, Bai Weiwei, dressed in a white suit. Zhao Xuning was right behind her.

“Haven’t you done enough to A-Zhu? What more do you want?” Bai Weiwei condemned her righteously. “We trusted you to treat A-Zhu well and let her marry you. But look at everything you’ve done!”

Liang Shi lowered her head, letting the scolding wash over her without resistance.

Bai Weiwei rolled her eyes. “Eldest Miss Liang, no need to play the pity card. You do this every time after you hurt A-Zhu. Do you think she’ll change her mind? I’m telling you, impossible. This time, once A-Zhu wakes up, you two are getting a divorce.”

Liang Shi pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmph.” Bai Weiwei scoffed. Zhao Xuning walked into the ward.

Inside, Xu Qingzhu was sitting up in bed with her eyes open, quiet and still as a porcelain doll.

Bai Weiwei spotted her immediately and rushed in. “A-Zhu, how are you? Are you all right?”

Xu Qingzhu gave a weak smile and shook her head gently. “I’m fine.”

Her voice was hoarse. Her eyes were clear and transparent, yet carried an unapproachable coolness. After soothing Bai Weiwei, she lifted her gaze to the doorway and met Liang Shi’s eyes.

Liang Shi’s face flushed instantly.

No one could escape those eyes.

Her heart stuttered. She heard Xu Qingzhu say evenly: “Weiwei, you and Xuning step out for a bit.”

Bai Weiwei frowned. “Why? Are you going to forgive her?”

Xu Qingzhu merely smiled, and even the smile held a trace of ice. “I want to say something to her.”

Zhao Xuning always respected Xu Qingzhu’s decisions. She pulled Bai Weiwei out of the ward with gentle force, leaving only Liang Shi and Xu Qingzhu inside. The silence that settled over the room was almost unbearable.

Xu Qingzhu turned to gaze out the window, lost in a long stupor.

After a while, she turned back to face Liang Shi.

Her complexion was pale, her lips utterly bloodless. The look she fixed on Liang Shi could have frozen into icicles, ready to lance straight through her. Guilt gnawed at Liang Shi. After hesitating, she spoke first: “Are… are you okay?”

Xu Qingzhu’s pale lips curled into a cool, thin arc.

A moment later, she gripped the edge of the blanket and said in a low, cold voice: “Liang Shi.”

“Hm?” Liang Shi answered. “I’m here.”

“Let’s get a divorce,” Xu Qingzhu said evenly. “I’m serious.”

A hand seemed to seize Liang Shi’s heart and squeeze.

The pain stole her breath away.