After an Alluring Alpha Provokes an Unhinged Omega 67

Chapter 67: Lost

In the early morning, the thin mist of Huai City had not yet dissipated.

On Jiang Mi’s last day of work in Huai City, the familiar nanny van slowly drove into her sight. The new assistant was still in the passenger seat, and the previous driver got out to open the car door for her.

“Teacher Jiang, how have you been lately?”

Jiang Mi smiled. “Master, how have you been lately?”

The driver showed a kind smile and embarrassedly smoothed his hair. “I’m fine. It’s good to be able to come back and drive for you. I didn’t expect the company to send me back.”

Stepping into the car, Jiang Mi leaned back in her seat, her gaze on the fleeting street scene outside the window. But in front of her eyes, the cold face that had been carved into her bones last night suddenly appeared. That night in the car, she had spoken so decisively. The journey back had been dead silent. She had even been prepared for the other party to completely turn on her, and even to tear off all pretense.

But not only had Yan Wei taken a step back, but she had also changed the car and driver back.

Although she had left an assistant, could this be considered a gesture of reconciliation?

This question had been circling in Jiang Mi’s mind for two days. Only after she had waited for Yan Wei’s other actions and they had not come did she give up. Her time could not be completely spent on love. She needed to work.

Busy work.

The script reading for the new drama had ended less than two months ago. In mid-September, the filming had already begun in Yudu in the west.

She had changed to a completely new environment, and very few people around her mentioned Yan Wei anymore. The few times were just one or two routine hot searches.

#YanWeiAirportFashion#, #YanWeiNewDrama#.

In the dead of night, Jiang Mi had also clicked in to see. Her fingertips slid across the screen, and the figure in the picture was just a fleeting glance, but the familiar palpitation in her heart could not be deceived.

She hadn’t deliberately counted the time, but she roughly knew that it had been more than a month since she had had any contact with Yan Wei.

“The one who can’t leave is you.”

Those words, Yan Wei had taken them to heart, and at this moment, she was using her actions to fight back—she had been wrong.

During a break on set, Jiang Mi’s gaze would always be glued to that empty chair. In the four-walled break room, the moment she sat down on the stool, her consciousness was as if it had been pulled back to the day Spring wrapped up—the bright dark green brocade wrapped around Yan Wei’s body, a cheongsam wrapping her slender and well-proportioned curves. The posture of her pushing open the door was like a startling swan that had broken into her world.

Every time this happened, an unforeseen sourness would well up, drilling into her nasal cavity.

But she hadn’t taken the initiative to find Yan Wei again.

In a sense, their relationship had indeed come to a halt.

So much so that Zhao Jia didn’t even dare to mention those two words in front of her recently, and even avoided them.

Jiang Mi herself didn’t have this problem. Right now, between her and Yan Wei, it was like a tug-of-war. The two of them were holding one end of the rope, each at a stalemate.

It was just a matter of who would lose their footing first.

It wasn’t about who would admit defeat first, but who would lose their composure first.

This wasn’t childish.

At least Jiang Mi herself thought so.

Sometimes, the relationship between people was a game, challenging each other’s lowest and highest points.

These things, it was hard for her to explain to Zhao Jia.

But she knew that Yan Wei already understood.

Otherwise, more than a month ago, according to Yan Wei’s personality, she would have either dismissed even Zhao Jia, leaving her with no one, or completely given up and returned everything, instead of leaving an assistant to “monitor” her.

She believed that in these days, everything about her, or rather, everything on the surface, the people she had seen under the assistant’s gaze, the words she had said, the things she had done, Yan Wei was clear about.

Yan Wei was an extremely smart person.

Much smarter than her.

Time passed day by day… and a turning point finally appeared.

It happened on this day—

A scene of Jiang Mi and Qi Wenxi arguing in the rain. To make it more realistic, the director had specially chosen a rainy day.

But rain scenes were not easy to shoot.

The dirt road in the countryside was churned into a thick swamp by the rain and mud. Jiang Mi dragged Qi Wenxi, struggling in the mud, one deep step, one shallow step. After three consecutive NGs, the costumes on the two of them were completely soaked, clinging to their skin, and the cold air was drilling in.

Qi Wenxi was so cold that even the cracks in her bones were trembling, and her eyes were also red from the rain pouring down on her head.

She hastily waved at the monitor, her voice trembling, “I can’t do it anymore, Director.”

The moment the director called “Cut,” Zhao Jia, holding an umbrella, rushed towards Jiang Mi through the rain. The new assistant, Nine, followed closely behind, a thick towel on her arm. As soon as she got close, she quickly wrapped it around Jiang Mi.

Jiang Mi subconsciously turned her head—Qi Wenxi was hugging her arms tightly and squatting on the side, trembling. She couldn’t even see her assistant. Jiang Mi’s heart stirred. She pulled off the towel on her shoulder that hadn’t yet warmed up and pressed a layer on Qi Wenxi’s shoulder. “Warm up for a while.”

Qi Wenxi’s bluish lips were trembling. “…Thank you, sis.”

Jiang Mi shook her head to indicate that it was not necessary. Just as her gaze swept over, Nine had already come running from the canopy with another dry towel. No wonder Yan Wei had arranged for her to come over. She was indeed very clever.

In that instant, a heavy sense of familiarity hit her.

Jiang Mi’s fingertips unconsciously tightened on the cold sleeve of her costume—just a few months ago, that person had also, on a cold set, unceremoniously thrown a dry towel with her own warmth onto her soaked shoulders.

She suddenly shivered.

Zhao Jia put her arm around her shoulder. “Drink some more ginger soup in a bit. Don’t catch a cold.”

Jiang Mi: “Mmm.”

It was in the afternoon that Jiang Mi saw the hot search.

At that time, she had just finished an indoor scene. The director’s “Cut” had just fallen, and Qi Wenxi had listlessly sidled over, her voice thick with a nasal tone, “Sister Jiang Mi, you… cough… do you take leave when you’re not feeling well?” Her whole person was like she had been drained of her bones, and she was leaning limply against the prop table.

“If you can’t take it, then rest.” Jiang Mi handed her a tissue. She knew the state of her scene partner better than anyone. “Your health is important. You earn so much money. If your health is gone, who will you leave it to?”

Qi Wenxi wiped her nose messily, her voice muffled, “That’s true. But I’m so sorry for dragging you down with so many NGs today.”

“It’s no big deal,” Jiang Mi said with a carefree smile. “Besides, who doesn’t have a few scenes they can’t get through? I was like that in my last drama. I even made the director angry once.”

“Really?” Qi Wenxi was slightly relieved.

Jiang Mi: “Of course.”

Qi Wenxi asked, “In your last drama with Teacher Yan, did she get told off by the director?”

Suddenly mentioning Yan Wei, Jiang Mi paused for a moment, then shook her head. “She’s too amazing. She’s so at ease when she’s acting. But she told me that when she first started acting, she would also be told off by the director, so it’s very normal. Besides, being sick is something you can’t help.”

“Are you on good terms with Teacher Yan? Are you still in contact? You don’t know, I’m so envious. When will I be able to act with the Movie Queen…”

“Me?” Jiang Mi ignored the first part of the question. “I was just lucky.”

Probably seeing that Jiang Mi had no intention of continuing this topic, the two of them walked out together.

Qi Wenxi glanced at Jiang Mi. “Sister Mi, this flu is too fierce. And you were in the rain today. You must drink a packet of medicine when you get back. Don’t get infected by me…”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry.”

“Sister Mi, after I get better, I’ll treat you to a meal. You don’t know how touched I was today. I fell from the stage when I was acting with someone before, and no one even cared about me!”

If this were said to someone else, some might think it was an exaggeration, but Jiang Mi wouldn’t, because she had gone through this period.

If it weren’t for her good luck in getting the role in Spring, she might have been ignored just like Qi Wenxi.

Perhaps it was for this reason that looking at Qi Wenxi was like looking at herself not long ago.

Jiang Mi said, “Just climb up.”

Qi Wenxi looked up and met Jiang Mi’s surprisingly bright eyes. “Climb up, and everyone will see you.”

“Walk out with your back straight. Crush her, then come back.”

This was what Yan Wei had said to her back then. It turned out that one day, she would also say such words to others.

The two of them walked out side by side. Zhao Jia came over with her phone, not avoiding Qi Wenxi. “You two are on the hot search.”

Qi Wenxi was stunned. “Huh? What hot search?”

Jiang Mi took the phone. On the screen was a GIF and a video. It was the scene of her wrapping the towel around Qi Wenxi’s shoulder in the rain.

“This can even be on the hot search?” Qi Wenxi blurted out.

“Huh?” Jiang Mi said at almost the same time.

Zhao Jia pointed at the screen. “The atmosphere.”

Jiang Mi: “…”

Qi Wenxi: “…”

In the filtered image, the rain-soaked Jiang Mi, her tight long dress outlining her mature and slightly tired curves, her wet hair sticking to the side of her neck.

Qi Wenxi was looking up, her hair sticking to her pale cheeks, her eyes wet, like a lost little cat. A subtle tension between fragility and protection.

It was very much in line with the aesthetic and CP points of today’s young people.

Zhao Jia leaned closer, her voice so low it was almost a whisper, “Do you think… the company will intervene?”

This was asked implicitly. Jiang Mi knew in her heart—what Zhao Jia really wanted to ask was: Will Yan Wei intervene?

Her fingertips tapped lightly on the cold frame of the phone. After a short pause, she said, “For now… probably not.”

Zhao Jia glanced at her. Seeing her calm expression, she just thought that she hadn’t thought too deeply about it. That was true. Yan Wei’s side had been silent for so long. It was very normal for a big shot to get “tired” and pull out.

In that case, it should be a purely business matter.

“That’s true,” Zhao Jia followed up, her tone a little more relaxed. “It’s free publicity. It would be a waste not to take advantage of it. But I still have to talk to the PR department and keep an eye on the direction of public opinion.”

Jiang Mi didn’t reply. She wasn’t thinking on that level at all.

It was just a clip of her putting a towel on someone in the rain. There wasn’t even any fingertip contact in the picture. Yan Wei had no reason to make a big deal out of such a small thing.

She herself didn’t take this hot search seriously. It was just that she hadn’t expected this picture to go viral and be derived by all kinds of big-name artists.

On short video platforms, people had also started to imitate this picture.

A hot post on a certain platform had even painstakingly pieced together “eye contact” and “body language,” analyzing it so well that even she, the person involved, almost believed it a little when she glanced at it.

…The hot search started to be taken down at this time.

In the evening of a few days, Jiang Mi’s phone screen by her bed lit up silently. Zhao Jia had sent two screenshots.

From the time on the screenshots, the interval was no more than a minute.

The first one: third on the hot search list, #JiangMiQiWenxiFallinLoveDueToDrama#, with a glaring “Boiling” tag behind it.

The second one: the refreshed page. That hashtag was as if it had been erased from thin air, disappearing without a trace, as if it had never existed.

Zhao Jia: [?]

Jiang Mi stared at the dead silent dialog box on the screen and slowly sent: [?]

Zhao Jia: [Are you two contacting each other behind my back?]

Jiang Mi: [We haven’t been in contact for more than a month.]

Zhao Jia: [I’m witnessing history. Do you know how much money and power it takes to make a hot search disappear? I really can’t believe it. I really thought you two were completely over.]

Zhao Jia: [Shivering.jpg]

Zhao Jia: [You should be careful. I’m a little scared now.]

Jiang Mi: [Scared of what?]

Zhao Jia: [If I disappear from your side one day without a sound, remember! It’s definitely not voluntary!! Understand?!]

Jiang Mi: […]

Jiang Mi was amused by this exaggerated warning and her lips twitched. She looked at the message and quickly put away her smile. She exited the chat box, her fingertips unconsciously sliding on the screen, all the way to the bottom of the record.

Her chat record with Yan Wei was still from a long time ago.

Jiang Mi quickly turned off her phone, lay on the bed, and when she was lying on her back, her mood was not bad, but there was a faint, inappropriate itch in her chest, as if something were gently scratching it.

She suddenly, a little, wanted to see Yan Wei’s face at this moment.

After all.

Yan Wei had lost.