Chapter 48 Part 2

—Xiao Mo, pheromones, give me more.

—Xiao Mo, don’t worry about marks. Harder, like you used to like.

—Xiao Mo, I said it before—Permanent Mark is fine. I just want you.

—Xiao Mo, call me Sis again, okay?

After tossing and turning for dozens of minutes with no sleep in sight, Chi Yumo pulled out the phone from under her pillow. The time read 11:17 p.m.; Shi Youwan’s connecting flight departed at 11:35.

She opened the chat and typed: 【Rest well after getting to Yinzhou. Take care of your health. Work won’t run away—go tomorrow.】

Shi Youwan replied almost instantly: 【Okay. Thanks for Xiao Mo’s concern. I’ll miss you.】

Like it burned her hand, Chi Yumo glanced and shoved the phone back under the pillow, pulling the covers over her head. She didn’t care if the “transformed” Shi Youwan sent more heart-wrenching “predatory words.”

She firmly believed that even if Shi Youwan wasn’t possessed, she must have just had a heat-of-the-moment brain fever to change like that.

Given time, once the enthusiasm wore off, once she couldn’t stand Chi Yumo’s coldness, Shi Youwan would leave on her own.

Chi Yumo slept until evening. On her phone, only two people had sent her unread messages: one from Nianhua, the other from Shi Youwan.

Nianhua had sent the work schedule for the rest of the month.

Shi Youwan’s message read: [Got home at one, ate the lunch Aunt Han prepared.]

It wasn’t just text; she had also sent a photo of lunch on the dining table, followed by a cat emoji sticker with the caption—I was very good.

She had been very good.

Good enough to break the rules, to commit a crime.

Good in a way that didn’t match a group president who commanded the business world with poise and strategic brilliance. Good like the adorable kitten in the sticker, making Chi Yumo want to take her home, tuck her into bed, make her her own possession—so that every time she opened or closed her eyes, it was all Shi Youwan.

Over the past few days, they had been together constantly, but their WeChat conversations weren’t frequent. Among the emoji stickers Shi Youwan used, the cat ones appeared most often.

Did she know Chi Yumo liked cats, so she used them to touch her heart?

After thinking it over, Chi Yumo replied: [I was just sleeping. I’ll eat dinner soon and chat work with Hua Jie.]

Shi Youwan replied instantly: [Will it be very busy?]

[Chi Yumo: Isn’t busy good? Busy means making money. I can’t just let the company keep me for free. After all, only artists who can earn money have value. Even Mu Xi signed me because she saw profit potential in me.]

[Chi Yumo: If President Shi has any suitable resources, feel free to recommend them to me. Thanks in advance.]

She wanted to make herself seem “vulgar and shallow,” “money-grubbing,” “greedy for power and wealth”—to make Shi Youwan despise her.

[Shi Youwan: Xiao Mo, do you really like modeling work?]

[Chi Yumo: President Shi, I’m not a child anymore.]

[Chi Yumo: Someone once gave me advice: fly high enough, far enough, see enough of the world, and you’ll truly understand what you want, what you can have, what you like, what you should love.]

[Chi Yumo: Actually, you don’t need to fly that high or far. Experience enough, and you’ll understand the same.]

[Chi Yumo: I may never reach your heights or breadth of vision in my lifetime, and you can’t comprehend how hard it is for an ordinary person in desperate straits to make a living. So please respect my career, my work.]

She deliberately twisted Shi Youwan’s intent, laying bare the vast chasm between them.

Before, it had been Shi Youwan reminding her how distant they were.

Now, it was Chi Yumo reminding Shi Youwan that some distances couldn’t be bridged just by walking slower or faster. The truth was, they weren’t even on the same road.

[Shi Youwan: Sorry, Xiao Mo. I didn’t mean to disrespect your work. I won’t ask anymore. Don’t be mad, okay?]

Why was she so afraid of Chi Yumo getting angry? Had Chi Yumo often gotten mad at her, snapped at her?

Searching her memories of the past month, Chi Yumo recalled several instances, leaving her with a mix of emotions.

But upon reflection, she hadn’t lashed out without reason. Shi Youwan had been stubborn, doing things unbecoming of her status—things that harmed her own body.

How could Chi Yumo not get angry in those situations?

Her heart, which she thought dead—even staying calm amid Li Longfeng’s schemes—beat wildly, fiercely, shamelessly only for Shi Youwan.

[Chi Yumo: Don’t misunderstand, President Shi. I’m not angry or belittling myself. Just some thoughts on the unpredictability of life and the impermanence of the world.]

[Shi Youwan: Okay, I’ll think seriously about your thoughts.]

[Shi Youwan: Xiao Mo, after chatting work with Nianhua, can you share your schedule with me? I want to know your free time exactly, so I don’t accidentally message you while you’re busy and disturb your work.]

Chi Yumo’s thumb hovered over the screen. She couldn’t type “sure” or “no.”

Who was Shi Youwan? A powerhouse with connections everywhere. To get Chi Yumo’s schedule, why beg in such a humble tone?

Shi Youwan was showing respect.

So what about her?

She should respond with equal respect, or it would be humiliating. Thus, she replied: [Not sure yet. I’ll tell you later.]

[Shi Youwan: Mm, waiting for you.]

The chat paused for now. After a week away, her fridge had no fresh fruits or veggies. There were some frozen items, but with an empty stomach, Chi Yumo felt too lazy to cook.

She opened the delivery app, ordered a steak bento, and bought some fruit from the grocery section with a note to leave it at the door. Then she got out of bed and went to the bathroom.

Afterward, she sat on the living room sofa and carefully reviewed Nianhua’s work schedule. Besides the two regular modeling-related items, there was an audition for the lead in a popular singer’s new MV.

[Chi Yumo: Hua Jie, do you know who recommended me for the MV audition?]

No lines needed for an MV role, so that didn’t worry her.

Nianhua replied with a voice message: “They said they saw your graduation performance online, were deeply moved by your acting, and felt your image and aura matched perfectly with the second female lead they envisioned, so they invited you to audition.

“The lyrics and music for this new song were written by Mina herself, and she’ll star in the MV too. Mina, A-Rank Omega, 34 years old, divorced over a year ago. The reason was her Alpha ex-wife, five years younger, cheated with an internet streamer. No negative scandals about Mina herself. All this basic info is online; you can search more to get into the role and emotions. After all, you’ll be acting opposite her.”

[Chi Yumo: Got it, Hua Jie.]

The song hadn’t been released yet. The file only included the song title and a brief intro to the MV scenes and character relationships.

Chi Yumo read it again, then searched “Mina,” “Mina’s hits,” “Mina awards,” “Mina ex-wife,” “Mina love history,” and related terms.

Fortunately, she didn’t resemble Mina’s ex-wife at all—not in looks or vibe. Otherwise, Chi Yumo might have thought Mina was using this song, this MV, and her face to vent and accuse her cheating Alpha ex-wife.

At least she wasn’t a “scumbag Alpha stand-in.”

After dinner, Chi Yumo edited a message about her work schedule and sent it to Shi Youwan.

Simple content: dates and times of work, nothing else. No details on what or where.

Shi Youwan replied instantly: [Got it.]

Chi Yumo wondered if the woman never put her phone down. Then it hit her, and she sighed helplessly: [Gotta get up early tomorrow? Rest early tonight.]

[Shi Youwan: Mm, you too—don’t stay up late. Good night, Xiao Mo.]

Chi Yumo hesitated a few seconds before replying: [Good night.]

Good night. Wan’an.

It had long been dissected and fermented into something ambiguous. Especially between two people with “impure intentions,” it felt like a veiled declaration of emotion—or silent permission of one.

Sister, do you really have to crash into the south wall, bloodied and broken, before giving up?

…

Chi Yumo adapted quickly; no jet lag for her. The next morning, she went to the company gym, worked out until four in the afternoon, showered, changed, and headed to Shen Muxi’s home.

During those hours at the company, two Omega actresses approached her one after the other, trying to get close.

They both praised her luck.

But one asked what secret trick she’d used to win Mu Xi’s exclusive favor, wanting to learn; the other begged her to fake a CP with her—to boost popularity and monetize traffic—and promised to make it real in private.

Chi Yumo kept doing her arm exercises and crunches, stone-faced, ignoring their questions and pleas without even glancing at them properly.

If her life was called “good,” then no one in the world was “unlucky.”

At exactly five, Chi Yumo stepped out of the elevator.

Shen Muxi’s home was one unit per elevator, north-south facing with great ventilation and lighting, and strong privacy.

This was Chi Yumo’s second visit. The first was after she decided to enter the New Fashion Model Contest and passed the initial selection. Shen Muxi had invited Nianhua and her over for hot pot.

On the drive, Nianhua had told her she was the only company artist to enter Shen’s home. Shen didn’t see her as a money-making tool but as a little sister to cherish, hoping she’d settle down, rally, fight fate bravely—and not waste Shen’s full support and investment.

The agent’s lofty words went in one ear and out the other for Chi Yumo.

She believed Shen Muxi was a good person, kind. But did good people not seek profit? Without profit, where did capital come from?

Without capital, how to do good deeds? With “heart” or empty promises?

At the time, Chi Yumo suspected Nianhua was maliciously brainwashing her with servile thinking—subtly at first, then deeply rooted—so she’d obey the company and Shen Muxi unconditionally, becoming a puppet without agency.

But that night, Shen Muxi got drunk—terrible drunk behavior—pinching and poking Chi Yumo, rubbing and groping, grinning foolishly as she pinned her down and asked—

Why doesn’t little Mo Mo smile? I taught you: the best disguise and self-protection isn’t coldness, but a smile. Smile more, dazzle the world, smile flawlessly—then no one sees your heart, pinches your weakness. That’s how you keep control.

Truth spilled after drinks.

Even drunk, Shen Muxi taught her to seize control, not to be a passive puppet.

Chi Yumo lowered her guarding fists, dropped her defenses, let Shen Muxi slump powerlessly onto her—and let herself absorb Shen’s booze breath and lemon scent.

She’d tried later, many times, but failed.

Her heart hurt too much; it felt like she’d lost the ability to smile. And Shen Muxi… always seemed smiling brightly.

Had Shen Muxi’s heart ever hurt?

When questioned as not true Shen blood, when her father doubted her “dirty” earnings, when a liked Omega scorned her as just an A-Rank Alpha—Shen Muxi’s heart must have hurt too.

Pain unspoken, smile silent. Maybe she… needed to cultivate deeper.

“You’re early.” Shen Muxi lounged half-reclined on the sofa watching TV, a blanket over her lower body.

Chi Yumo walked over, glanced at the screen—it was a drama starring Shen Muxi herself. Didn’t actors avoid watching their own work?

Shen Muxi really was a weirdo.

The TV played the very drama Shen Muxi had mentioned during the model contest livestream: a prime-time show about women of different ages facing hardships, starting businesses, celebrating female strength. Aired simultaneously on two major channels and two streaming platforms.

Three female leads, three storylines: one Alpha, one Omega, one Beta. An ensemble drama.

Chi Yumo sat beside her and asked: [Three days on air—ratings okay?]