Mistakenly Marked – Chapter 27
by Little PandaCleanliness Obsession
“The Omega seemed completely made of water.”
“Yan-jie! Yan-jie?!”
A staff member’s shout rang down the corridor. Everyone in the hallway froze, mid-motion.
Xiao Nan moved fast to the doorway, putting her back to the room, blocking their line of sight.
But no one had attention to spare for what was inside anymore. The staff rushed over, trying to lift the woman who had collapsed without warning—
“Yan-jie?! What’s wrong with her… quick, someone get a doctor…”
The follow-shot cameraman turned, dazed, then came back to himself, let go of the driver’s hand he’d been grappling with, and hurried to help. “Get her up first — carry her somewhere open!”
Between the two of them, in a flurry of fumbling arms, they bore the suddenly unconscious actress out of the enclosed corridor.
They had completely forgotten what they’d come here for in the first place.
It had all happened too fast. The crisis had inexplicably dissolved. The two standing at the door exchanged a blank look.
Then turned to peer into the lounge.
Pure darkness. Nothing to see.
Only a voice, low and melodious: “Close the door.”
Their brains took in the command before their minds could object. Xiao Nan’s hand went out at once, obediently, and shut the door.
Only then did she remember the lights had never been on.
The lounge’s only light switch was on this side, by the door.
So should she open the door again, and turn on the lights for whoever was inside?
While she hesitated, the little assistant met the driver’s eyes. The two of them fell silent together for a few seconds.
“Better leave it alone.”
“Mm.”
Consensus reached.
“Thanks just now, Driver-jiejie.”
“No thanks needed.”
“Then dinner’s on me next time.”
“I like Chinese food.”
“…Fine.”
The two of them went back to standing guard in silence.
A dozen-odd meters away, beyond the lounge corridor, everything had descended into chaos.
They’d watched three people walk off together — now two of them were carrying one back. The directors waiting on set started up in alarm and hurried to crowd around.
“What’s going on?!”
“What happened to Teacher Lu?”
The follow-shot cameraman shook his head. “No idea. She just fainted, all on her own. Maybe she has some kind of condition?”
“No way — Yan-jie had a full checkup last month. Every reading was normal!”
“Then get the on-set doctor over here…”
“So strange. It’s like there’s… some kind of smell in the air.”
“Is that someone’s pheromones? Don’t make trouble — rein it in!”
“Wait — I saw her eyelashes move. I think she’s waking up.”
Lu Yan opened her eyes onto a ring of hovering faces and jolted in fright, nearly fainting a second time.
The assistant director hurried over, squeezing into the crowd with concern. “Teacher Lu, are you all right?”
Lu Yan answered in a daze. “…I’m… fine.”
“They said you collapsed all of a sudden. What happened?”
…What happened?
A pair of golden pupils flashed through her mind. That dreadful, crushing pressure still clung to her skin. Lu Yan touched the large lump swelling at the back of her head, and a fresh sheet of cold sweat broke down her back.
That had been an apex Alpha.
…Who?
“Yan-jie, just now you opened the lounge door—”
“It was exhaustion, that’s all!”
She cut the staff member off, forcing a smile.
“I’ve been running back-to-back schedules lately. Never stopped to rest.”
The staff around her blinked.
She’d plainly been resting for days — today’s recording was her first job of the week.
But no one dared call it out. They listened as Lu Yan went on:
“Just now in the lounge, I saw it myself — Teacher Bo really is unwell. Her color looked quite bad.
“I just didn’t expect I’d… I’m truly sorry. We’re going to hold up the recording schedule.”
“No, no — if both artists are feeling unwell, we’ll simply wait a little longer. The artists’ health comes first.”
Lu Yan nodded. “Thank you for understanding, Director.”
The crowd dispersed in twos and threes. Lu Yan took the water her own assistant handed her.
“Yan-jie, just now, why did you…”
The assistant lowered her voice. “Why did you speak up for Bo Suiqing?”
The room had gone dark when that door opened — pitch black. How could she have seen anyone’s color? How could she say the woman’s face really did look bad?
“…Haven’t you ever heard the saying — when you can let someone off, let them off1?”
Lu Yan feigned composure, twisting the cap open with a trembling hand. “Don’t take a thing too far.”
“…?”
The assistant stared at her, suspicious. It was Lu Yan herself who, not long ago, had pushed her to deliver that water of unknown contents, insisting they absolutely had to capture the woman losing control on camera.
But she didn’t dare argue. She only nodded. “Understood, Yan-jie.”
Lu Yan drank some water and swallowed down the panic in her chest.
Apex Alphas were exceedingly rare.
Rarer even than apex Omegas.
If they weren’t top-tier elites, they were magnates of industry and society. Nearly every one of them a named, unmissable somebody — a power that could not be provoked.
In her entire life, the only one Lu Yan had ever seen with her own eyes… was Bo Shisong.
If she hadn’t known how wretched Bo Suiqing’s relationship with Bo Shisong actually was, she would never have dared move against Bo Suiqing today.
And yet she’d never imagined that behind Bo Suiqing stood another apex Alpha…
And she, fearless of death, had charged straight into it.
The more she thought, the more terrified she grew. Her earlier arrogance had evaporated without a trace. Lu Yan rapidly issued instructions to the person beside her:
“Go order milk tea and burgers. When they arrive, hand them out to everyone on set. Say it’s from Bo Suiqing and me — a treat for everyone’s hard work.”
“Yes, Yan-jie.”
As the assistant rose to arrange it, Lu Yan sat fretting a while longer, then picked up her phone and dialed.
Just as she’d nearly given up on anyone answering, the call finally connected. From the receiver came a woman’s voice, rich with mature allure, edged with the proud, cold hauteur unique to those who stood at the very top:
“What is it?”
“Jiejie.” Lu Yan adjusted her tone, dropping her voice to its softest, wheedling with care, “Are you free tonight? Can I still come see you?”
The lounge.
The door shut tight once more. Xu Jialuo leaned back against the sofa, one arm cradling Bo Suiqing, limp and boneless against her.
The aggressive tint was fading, bit by bit, from the depths of her eyes. Her palm still rested on Bo Suiqing’s spine, feeling the Omega’s uncontrollable light tremors.
The hand moved, kneading slowly, in the motion used to soothe a small child.
When she was very small, there was a stretch of days when Xu Jialuo had listened to the old granny next door tell stories of the cat demon2 — how it came to a village and, every night, carried off children who wouldn’t go to sleep like good boys and girls, and ate them.
She had always been the sort to go to bed early and obediently. After hearing that story, she’d grown too afraid to sleep.
The more she couldn’t sleep, the more afraid she was of being eaten.
In the end she’d huddle deep in her quilt, little face taut, trembling.
When Jiang Yi found out, this was how she had held her — gently, tenderly rubbing her back.
Until she relaxed, and drifted off into a sound sleep.
Now Xu Jialuo borrowed it, to soothe a troublesome Omega.
When the door had been pushed open — so Bo Suiqing wouldn’t be discovered — Xu Jialuo had lifted her and shifted their position.
Now Bo Suiqing knelt with a knee to either side of her legs, head tucked against her shoulder, upper body bowed, seated in her lap.
The pink-and-white athletic wear she’d changed into for the variety recording was a matched set — T-shirt above, short skirt below.
Her gaze slid away from those long, pale legs in the dark. Xu Jialuo’s lashes lowered, eyes settling on the thread of faint light leaking through the gap of the closed door.
For the time being she held the position, unmoving.
Waiting for the person in her arms to calm completely.
Until she felt the trouser fabric beneath the woman’s weight go faintly damp and warm.
The kneading hand paused. Before Xu Jialuo could push her away, Bo Suiqing — who had sensed something wrong at the same moment — began to struggle in a panic of her own.
Her movements were a mess, as if she wanted to bolt at once; but precisely because of that, she looked very much like someone who hadn’t yet recovered her reason.
So she was still in discomfort?
The thought of pushing her away dissolved, for the time being. Xu Jialuo’s arm tightened abruptly, pressing her back into her embrace.
Long fingers swept aside the stray hair at Bo Suiqing’s nape.
She bowed her head, and kissed the gland again.
“Mmph—!”
Bo Suiqing’s eyes flew wide. She shook outright, the hand pressed to Xu Jialuo’s shoulder trying to grip, and finding no strength.
In the instant the thread of her reason snapped, no sound left her throat. Her whole body seized, the lines of her waist and abdomen drawn dead taut.
Then every ounce of strength gave out, and she went utterly limp.
Xu Jialuo’s brow creased faintly. The person in her arms seemed to be shaking even harder.
A few seconds later, the fabric over her thighs was soaked through.
Xu Jialuo ended the kiss.
Bo Suiqing’s entire body went rigid.
…
What do I do…
It was only being held while her gland was kissed. And yet she’d…
What would Xu Jialuo think?
Revulsion? Disgust?
It seemed as though anything she said would be deserved.
And yet…
Her chin was still cradled in Xu Jialuo’s palm, while the tide of that recent pleasure slowly receded.
Bo Suiqing’s fingers curled tight. Her vision blurred behind a film of water.
If she had to hear humiliation from Xu Jialuo’s own lips right now… she truly wasn’t sure she could bear it.
In the darkness, Xu Jialuo felt the skin at the base of her thumb grow wet with tears all over again.
How could anyone cry this much?
When an Omega’s pheromones ran unstable, did they all turn into this?
Xu Jialuo’s brow drew tighter. She tipped Bo Suiqing’s face up slightly and looked down at her.
The room was too dark. Only, at the very bottom of the Omega’s eyes, a last wisp of that gorgeous pink flickered past.
…
Surely she’d seen wrong.
Xu Jialuo lowered her gaze to the cheek glinting faintly with tears in the dark.
Her hand was sticky. Her thighs were sticky too.
The Omega seemed completely made of water — if she wasn’t sweating, she was crying.
Someone with a mild cleanliness obsession would not enjoy contact like this.
And yet she remembered.
—”If the marking Alpha refuses to offer comfort, or shows any sign of revulsion, the Omega will lose her sense of safety.”
Xu Jialuo closed her eyes for a moment, and — so faintly it could barely be caught — sighed.
She had gone to real lengths to coax this person halfway back to calm. She had no intention of undoing it all now.
Bo Suiqing lay perfectly still. She felt Xu Jialuo’s warm fingertips, tissue in hand, passing back and forth over her face.
The motion in the dark wasn’t precise; it came off rough, as if patience had run dry.
Bo Suiqing lowered her eyes, waiting for whatever ugly words might come next.
She only felt her tears wiped away, bit by bit — and then Xu Jialuo’s hand moved to the small of her back.
Far from shoving her off, it cradled her body — gone entirely boneless, nearly sliding down — and shifted her a little higher.
At the same moment, she heard Xu Jialuo’s voice: “Drink some water in a bit.”
“…”
“…?”
Bo Suiqing stared, uncomprehending, and heard Xu Jialuo continue: “You’ve sweated too much. You’ll dehydrate.”
“…”
No answer came. Wondering whether she was even conscious, Xu Jialuo frowned and called, “Bo Suiqing?”
“…Mm.”
Bo Suiqing answered her, hoarse. “…Understood.”
Neither of them moved.
The pheromones inside her body and in the air alike slowly settled, returning to stillness.
Only then did Xu Jialuo ask, “Can you get up?”
“…Mm.” Bo Suiqing complied, braced a hand on the sofa, and slid off her lap.
Before Xu Jialuo could move, she’d found the tissues by feel on the sofa, pulled several free, and set about wiping the patch of fabric a few inches above Xu Jialuo’s knee.
Wanting it dealt with quickly, and to keep the motion easy, Bo Suiqing bent her knee downward, meaning to kneel on the carpet and go on.
Her bare knee had barely grazed the carpet’s pile when Xu Jialuo seized her arm and hauled her up. “What are you doing?”
Bo Suiqing blinked. “Cleaning you up…”
There was a carefulness in her tone she perhaps hadn’t noticed herself.
Xu Jialuo’s finger-bones tightened for an instant.
What was she being so careful about.
Had she come back to her senses, and felt embarrassed at having ordered Xu Jialuo around?
Or perhaps this, too, was merely a performance.
Next time she wanted to order Xu Jialuo about, she surely wouldn’t hesitate.
Seeing Xu Jialuo say nothing, Bo Suiqing moved to continue — and was pulled up a second time.
Xu Jialuo’s brow knotted as she watched the rise and fall of Bo Suiqing’s knees.
That skin was too pale; even in the dark, the eye caught it.
A young miss reared in luxury from birth — skin a lustrous gleam all over, the joints flushed a pretty pink.
It matched the posture of kneeling not at all.
“Give me the tissues.”
Bo Suiqing paused, then handed them over.
Xu Jialuo took them and wiped the fabric down herself.
Somewhat sticky — not quite the feel of sweat she’d imagined.
But she paid it no mind. After a few perfunctory passes she stood, and the long trench coat swallowed up that unremarkable dark patch on her trousers.
Xu Jialuo walked to the door and reached up to switch on the light.
Unaccustomed to the sudden light overhead, Bo Suiqing instinctively raised a hand to shield her eyes.
Xu Jialuo looked back at her, then returned to the sofa, took Bo Suiqing’s wrist, and turned her palm over.
The adhesive bandage she’d applied so carefully that morning had lifted at the edges, crumpled into creases.
There was even a faint seep of blood showing through.
She shouldn’t have cared.
Perhaps because she’d stuck that bandage on with her own hands, she couldn’t stand watching it ruined like this.
Xu Jialuo asked, “How did this happen?”
Her gaze fell on the slender finger-bones circling her wrist. Bo Suiqing’s lashes trembled.
“There was a game task during recording. I got hit.”
Xu Jialuo’s eyes lifted to Bo Suiqing’s face.
She thought of the faint grievance in the way this woman had said her name the moment she walked in.
“On purpose?”
Caught off guard by the question, Bo Suiqing paused before answering. “…Mm.”
“The one who tried to force her way in just now?”
“Mm.”
Bo Suiqing lowered her eyes.
She imagined what Xu Jialuo would say.
Would she say — aren’t you usually so formidable with me? How does someone like you end up bullied?
Or perhaps a single “serves you right” — evil earns evil?
But Xu Jialuo asked, “Did anyone bring disinfectant?”
Bo Suiqing blinked. “Xiao Nan should have some. It’s in that bag.”
Xu Jialuo turned, and in the backpack on the table found the disinfectant, the cotton swabs, and fresh bandages.
Without a word, she unscrewed the cap and wet a swab.
Turning back, she found Bo Suiqing still standing there blankly, showing no sign whatsoever of peeling the old bandage off herself first.
The exalted, troublesome young miss.
Xu Jialuo pressed the swab into Bo Suiqing’s hand. “Hold this.”
Cradling Bo Suiqing’s other hand, Xu Jialuo took hold of the bandage’s edge.
The whole sequence was brisk — until the moment of lifting the bandage, when it slowed at once, force steadied bit by bit, so as not to tug the wound.
Bo Suiqing’s eyes widened, watching Xu Jialuo work.
Xu Jialuo’s mist-dark pupils were like a still lake, focused on her palm — the water rising, steaming into cloud, then falling as a fine, close rain.
It fell into the bottom of her heart.
Bo Suiqing drew a soft breath, fighting to slow a heartbeat that was gradually racing away.
The wound was soon disinfected again and covered with a fresh bandage.
Xu Jialuo reminded her once more: “Change it in six hours.”
“Mm.”
“Why did your pheromones suddenly go out of control?”
“…”
Bo Suiqing hesitated a few seconds, then held nothing back. “I drank half a bottle of water a staff member handed me. Something may have been put in it.”
Xu Jialuo frowned. “Where’s that bottle?”
Dosing an Omega’s water with a pheromone-destabilizing drug in a public venue — once confirmed, it was a serious crime, enough for at least a month in detention.
“I left it at the recording site after I finished.”
Bo Suiqing cast her mind back. “I put a mark on the bottle.”
When drinking out in public, she habitually made small marks on the bottle, so she could tell which one was hers.
“On the wrapper around the bottle, I folded a triangle at the top and another at the bottom.”
Then she remembered. “But they collected all the trash after the first half of recording. It’s been thrown out already.”
Outside the door, faintly, came the sound of staff coordinating with the little assistant.
The second half of recording, they were saying, couldn’t be pushed back any further.
Then Xiao Nan, waiting outside, knocked. “Suiqing-jiejie, are you feeling better?”
“I’m fine.”
Glancing down at her crumpled, sweat-damp clothes, Bo Suiqing said, “I’ll change and come out.”
A staff member called through the door: “The program team left your spare clothes on the second shelf of the cabinet.”
Bo Suiqing rose and took the clothes from the cabinet.
There were program staff outside the door right now — not a good moment to leave.
Xu Jialuo glanced at her, walked to one side of the sofa, and turned her back.
She stood with arms folded, leaning against the sofa’s raised edge.
Behind her came the faint rustle of fabric.
Xu Jialuo waited quietly, gaze drifting idly — and, entirely off guard, met a mirror straight ahead.
Concealed by nothing but two scraps of snow-white lace, curves pale as jade and smooth as porcelain rose and fell — and crashed into her eyes.
A thread of wine scent rose abruptly in the air. Bo Suiqing’s movements stalled. She straightened, reached out with her senses again — and found it gone.
…What was that?
Bo Suiqing turned her head for a look at Xu Jialuo — head lowered, one hand pressed to her nape, apparently lost in a daze.
…It must have been her imagination.
From taking in too much of Xu Jialuo’s pheromones.
Bo Suiqing turned back and pulled the short-sleeved top on.
A few short meters away, Xu Jialuo’s fingertips rested on the gland at her nape, pressed hard over the Barrier Patch she’d just applied in haste.
Loose black hair hid the faintly reddened tips of her ears.
Changed and dressed, Bo Suiqing left the lounge and went back to recording.
Xu Jialuo stayed in the room a while longer, put her mask back on, tugged her cap brim low, and walked out.
She took the staff corridor the whole way. Just as she was about to leave the venue, she passed shoulder to shoulder with an older woman hauling a huge garbage bag.
She stopped.
The second half of recording went uncannily smoothly.
Lu Yan’s attitude had executed a complete about-face.
No more petty moves — she even yielded to Bo Suiqing at every turn.
Watching from the side of the stage, Xiao Nan began to wonder whether the actress had rattled her brain when she went down.
Right up until recording wrapped, nothing else went wrong.
But as they gathered their things to leave, Lu Yan suddenly came chasing after them, calling out to Bo Suiqing.
“Teacher Bo.”
The woman was a picture of uncharacteristic sweetness.
“I’m sorry. I truly was in the wrong before — I never should have hurt your hand on purpose.”
This time there was no talk of “accidents.”
“Give me a chance — dinner’s on me, and we’ll call ourselves friends.”
Bo Suiqing’s eyes lifted to that dimpled smile. Her lips curved faintly, her features so richly lovely they dazzled — while her voice fell cold as settling snow.
“Was it only my hand that got hurt?”
Lu Yan’s breath caught, a flicker of guilt crossing her face.
“I heard some rumors a while back — that Miss Lu had quite a few grievances about my award. I didn’t believe them. But today, it seems, I’ve seen for myself.”
Lu Yan gave a few dry laughs. “Miss Bo, I genuinely regret it. Give me a chance—”
“I’ve never been much good with a needle and thread.”
A photographer nearby noticed them and raised his camera.
Bo Suiqing’s expression never changed, her smile gentle as a spring breeze, her voice dropping into an ice cavern.
“So with me, any face that’s been torn open can never be sewn back on.”
Lu Yan’s face paled a shade. Then, like a cracked pot deciding to smash itself for good, she dropped the smile.
“Miss Bo, don’t say things so absolutely.”
“Who knows — the two of us may end up seeing quite a lot of each other from now on.”
“Suiqing-jiejie, what did Lu Yan mean by that last bit?”
Settled into the car, Xiao Nan was puzzled. “We don’t seem to have any work with her coming up, do we?”
And there never would be.
After what happened today, she’d report back to Manager Song, and any collaboration with Lu Yan would have to be refused from here on out.
Reclined against the seat, Bo Suiqing answered absently, “No idea.”
Plainly her mind was elsewhere.
Xiao Nan paused, then remembered what Manager Song had said before.
The event was over — which meant it was time to… take Suiqing-jiejie to see President Bo.
She was about to see her mother, back from abroad — yet looking at her, there didn’t seem to be much joy at the prospect of a reunion.
Xiao Nan pressed her lips together, casting about for something cheering to say — and then a phone rang.
Bo Suiqing lowered her eyes, took out her phone — and the moment she saw who was calling, those lovely eyes lit up by several degrees.
She connected at once, pressing it to her ear.
That familiar, pleasing voice came through, threaded with a barely perceptible shortness of breath: “You’ve left?”
“Not yet.”
Bo Suiqing was a little puzzled — that question ought to have been hers to ask Xu Jialuo.
But she explained quickly all the same. “I just got in the car. Still in the parking lot.”
Carrying what was in her hand, Xu Jialuo asked, “Which space?”
Bo Suiqing glanced over her shoulder. “B23.”
“Wait there.”
Eyes widening slightly, Bo Suiqing answered, “Mm.”
The call went dead.
“Suiqing-jiejie, what is it?”
“Hold on a moment.”
With that, Bo Suiqing pulled the door open and stepped quickly out.
About three minutes later, Xu Jialuo’s silhouette appeared at the parking lot entrance.
Backlit, tall and long-legged, she walked as if trailing wind — black hair and coat hem flying, dashing and effortless, like a model stepping straight off a cinema screen.
Bo Suiqing’s breath tightened faintly. She walked out to meet Xu Jialuo.
It was not a long way — no more than a dozen-odd seconds on foot.
Yet it stretched itself long.
As though she had already been walking for a very, very long time, and had finally arrived at this — a meeting both of them were running toward3.
Seeing that Bo Suiqing had not only waited outside the car but was walking out to meet her, Xu Jialuo was briefly, genuinely surprised for a second.
But just as the two of them drew face to face, she suddenly frowned and stepped back.
Bo Suiqing saw the movement clearly. Her step caught, and she froze in place.
In an instant she was dragged out of that illusory, beautiful dream.
This was no meeting of lovers.
They weren’t even friends.
The earlier fantasies shattered in her mind, and Bo Suiqing stepped back half a pace as well.
The shimmering warmth in her eyes quietly withdrew.
Xu Jialuo frowned, checked the distance between them, then tilted her head slightly and sniffed at herself.
She genuinely wanted to throw up.
She frowned again at the retreating Bo Suiqing.
The woman could surely smell it too.
Rare in Xu Jialuo’s life were moments of fury this close to collapse.
She had always had a mild cleanliness obsession.
And she had just spent nearly two hours in a heap of venue garbage, in close contact with the trash itself.
Right now she wanted, quite literally, to throw her entire self away.
Brow twisted, Xu Jialuo raised her hand and held out what she was carrying. “Take it.”
Her tone was awful — nearly like cursing someone out — and Bo Suiqing’s thin shoulder blades flinched without her willing it.
But the instant she saw what it was, she went utterly still.
A water bottle, filthy on the outside, sealed inside a clean plastic bag.
Bo Suiqing’s eyes widened, staring carefully down at it.
On the side of the transparent bottle, the wrapper was folded into two triangles.
It was that bottle. The one she’d drunk from.
The bottle that should have been lying in a heap of garbage, somewhere, anywhere, by now.
“There may still be usable fingerprints on it.”
Eyes heavy-lidded, Xu Jialuo looked at the grime coating the bottle and explained through a frown,
“So it can’t be wiped down carelessly. It has to be kept exactly like this.”
Seeing Bo Suiqing rooted to the spot, staring motionless at the bottle, Xu Jialuo’s frown cut deeper.
The noble young miss, dressed in a crisp, lovely white gauze gown, fairy-like from head to toe, immaculate all over.
Unwilling to accept the filthy piece of evidence she’d spent two hours digging out of the garbage.
Unbelievable.
Xu Jialuo drew a breath, forcing down the fire in her chest — fury at its very peak, she laughed through clenched back teeth,
“Bo Suiqing, however dirty you think it is, just bear with it for now—”
Her voice cut off dead.
The figure in the flawless white dress strode swiftly forward, slender arms slipping beneath the coat to lock around her waist —
and threw herself, hard, into her arms.
Footnotes
- 得饶人处且饶人 | De Rao Ren Chu Qie Rao Ren | Literally 'spare anyone you can spare' — a classical Chinese proverb counseling the victorious to show leniency; here Lu Yan wields it to recast a fear-driven retreat as magnanimity.
- 猫妖 | Mao Yao | In Chinese folk belief, cats that live long enough are said to cultivate into mischief-working spirits; neighborhood grannies' tales of child-snatching cat demons are classic bedtime-terror fare for Chinese children.
- 双向奔赴 | Shuangxiang Benfu | Literally 'both sides rushing toward each other' — popular Chinese romance slang for requited love in which both parties actively close the distance; prized as the ideal opposite of one-sided longing.
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