Twenty Fourth Day of Pretending to Be an Alpha

Ever since Chu Mo brought up the idea of giving Xie Songchen money for the tickets, their relationship had grown even colder—worse than before. Chu Mo could clearly sense that Xie Songchen was intentionally—or perhaps unintentionally—keeping his distance. What should have been the dynamic between a president and his secretary now felt more like that of a president and an ordinary employee.

Every time Xie Songchen finished reporting on work and scheduling, he would politely, yet distantly, set down the documents and leave without lingering.

At the same time, Chu Mo began to notice something odd. It seemed like Xie Songchen wanted to say something to him. Every now and then, just as he was about to speak, he would hesitate—then return to his usual cold, professional demeanor.

For the first time, Chu Mo felt a profound and unfamiliar sense of distance between them.

Work-wise, Xie Songchen still performed exceptionally. The project he was leading had achieved great results. Even the collaborator, Zhou Ming, couldn’t help but praise Chu Mo for selecting such an outstanding secretary.

But Chu Mo had been busy with other matters lately and often didn’t have time to follow up on Xie Songchen’s work. As a result, their relationship became even more detached. Despite their offices being right next to each other, it felt as if there were an invisible wall firmly dividing them.

Chu Mo still hadn’t figured out why Xie Songchen was acting so distant.

Meanwhile, new challenges in the plot continued to unfold. After Chu Mo agreed to invest in Chi Cheng’s project, the majority of senior management at Chu Group voiced their opposition.

The reason was simple: the Chi family was in decline, Chi Cheng had a notorious reputation as a playboy, and the project had no successful precedent. To them, it looked like Chu Mo was throwing money into a black hole. Several board members even emailed Chairman Chu Yansheng to complain about him.

What gave Chu Mo a headache wasn’t the investment itself.

As a transmigrator, he knew better than anyone that Chi Cheng’s new company would eventually go public with this project. Chu Group would absolutely profit.

No, what really gave Chu Mo a headache—was Chu Yansheng.

Since childhood, Chu Mo had always feared his father. Especially when it came to making the wrong decisions. Every time he made a mistake, Chu Yansheng would hold him accountable—and punish him without mercy.

Sure enough, not long after hearing the news, Chu Yansheng, who was overseas, called.

“Chu Mo, why did you invest in Chi Cheng’s new company?” Chu Yansheng said coldly. “Give me a convincing reason.”

As soon as Chu Yansheng’s voice sounded, Chu Mo already felt a headache coming on. Since his transmigration into the book, he feared nothing—except for this “old man.”

“Dad, Chi Cheng’s business plan is actually pretty solid,” Chu Mo explained. “So I decided to invest some money.”

“I never taught you to decide on investments just by looking at business plans,” Chu Yansheng replied, his tone emotionless.

Chu Mo was left speechless. He couldn’t possibly say that the original book mentioned this project would make a lot of money, could he?

Chu Mo tried to end the conversation: “Don’t worry, I’ll manage this money…”

“Forget it,” Chu Yansheng interrupted. “This time, consider it giving the Chi family some face, but don’t let it happen again.”

Chu Mo breathed a sigh of relief. He thought to himself, If Chu Yansheng knew that Chi Cheng’s new company could become a unicorn in the future, he might not think it’s about giving face, but rather about taking advantage.

Just then, Chu Yansheng added, “To punish you for making decisions without thinking, I’ve decided to have you take over an entertainment company we just acquired.”

Chu Mo was stunned. “An entertainment company?”

Yansheng’s assistant sent the acquisition document to Chu Mo’s email. Chu Mo opened it and saw that the acquired entertainment company was called “Xiangyang Entertainment.” The name seemed very familiar.

“To expand our family’s entertainment industry,” Yansheng said, “I’ve decided to acquire Xiangyang Entertainment and hand this potential stock over to you.”

Chu Mo glanced at Xiangyang Entertainment’s financial report and almost blacked out. What kind of potential stock is this? It’s a complete mess.

Yansheng instructed, “The acquisition is still ongoing; the finance and legal teams are busy. You should visit this company more when you have the time.”

Clearly, Yansheng wanted to remain a hands-off boss.

After hanging up the phone, it didn’t take long for Chu Mo to remember.

Xiangyang Entertainment… isn’t that the company where the third male lead worked in the original book?!

In the novel, the third male lead was named Zhou Jingyan. He had been a classmate of Chu Yun’s in university, majoring in dance. Handsome and full of ambition, Zhou Jingyan dreamed of standing in the spotlight. But even after more than three years as a trainee, he still hadn’t debuted.

Later, his company teetered on the edge of bankruptcy, and Zhou Jingyan was ready to give up on his dream. It was Chu Yun who kept encouraging him to persist. Because of that support, Zhou Jingyan threw himself even harder into his training—dancing, vocals, everything.

Eventually, Xiangyang Entertainment was acquired by a large corporation. Zhou Jingyan’s hard work was finally recognized, and his life took a dramatic turn for the better. He debuted successfully and started rising through the ranks.

Grateful for everything, Zhou Jingyan fell in love with Chu Yun after becoming an idol. He was also one of the few alphas with a 100% compatibility rate with Chu Yun.

Of course, upon discovering all this, Chu Mo had done everything in his power to keep Zhou Jingyan away from his brother. He used every method and connection at his disposal to suppress Zhou Jingyan’s rise.

But fate wasn’t on Chu Mo’s side. Zhou Jingyan relied on pure strength to climb his way up, eventually becoming a king-level singer and slapping Chu Mo right in the face with his success. During a major concert, Zhou Jingyan even risked his career to confess to Chu Yun in front of everyone.

And now… Xiangyang Entertainment had been acquired by none other than Chu Yansheng?

Seriously?

Of all companies, why this one?

The exact company Zhou Jingyan worked at?

Chu Mo held his forehead in disbelief.

Why does the plot go off-track a little more every single day?!

The next day.

Chu Mo headed to Xiangyang Entertainment, with Xie Songchen tagging along and assisting with various tasks along the way. The two sat together in the back of the business car. Xie Songchen had seemingly replaced Li Shuo as Chu Mo’s most capable secretary. Yet the atmosphere between them had grown colder and more delicate—more awkward even than when Xie Songchen had first joined the secretary department.

After reporting on work, Xie Songchen handed a document to Chu Mo, his lips tightly pressed, not uttering a single word.

Just as the air in the car dropped to freezing point, Chu Mo reached for the document, accidentally brushing his fingers against the back of Xie Songchen’s hand. Before he could react, Xie Songchen quickly withdrew his hand. Chu Mo glanced at him. Xie Songchen was looking out the window, his brows furrowed, as if repulsed by Chu Mo’s touch.

“Your recent work has been good,” Chu Mo said indifferently before getting out of the car. “But I won’t easily agree to let you stay at Shengmo just because of that.”

Chu Mo still felt guilty for missing Xie Songchen’s game a few days ago. Given his character setting, this was the only way he could offer Xie Songchen a semblance of dignity.

Clearly, such high-handed words didn’t make Xie Songchen happy. His hands clenched into fists on his lap, but he remained silent.

Inside Xiangyang Entertainment, Zhou Jingyan received news that the company’s future new CEO would be visiting. The message came from the director of the trainee department, hinting that the new president was there to cut costs and increase efficiency—in other words, layoffs. Zhou Jingyan felt a pang of anxiety. As one of the trainees who hadn’t debuted after years, he suspected he was likely to be cut.

Yet, upon seeing the director’s message, he also felt a strange sense of relief. Could he finally give up on his dream legitimately?

But the relief was quickly followed by a deep sense of loss.

That day, Zhou Jingyan still went to the company as usual. The dance practice room was mostly empty, with many trainees gathered elsewhere, worried about being laid off. Zhou Jingyan wanted to practice dance one last time before leaving the company. After half an hour of practice, he picked up a white towel, wiped his sweat, and walked out of the practice room.

Outside, there was a commotion. A crowd had gathered, murmuring excitedly.

“Is that the new president?”

“So handsome!”

“The secretary next to him is also handsome.”

“Hey, he looks like someone…”

Just then, footsteps approached from not far away. A tall, well-dressed, fair-skinned alpha walked up to the trainees. The young alphas, betas, and omegas instinctively made way. Zhou Jingyan, unaware, remained standing in the middle of the path.

Everyone’s eyes turned to him, as if looking at a fool.

Zhou Jingyan snapped back to reality and was about to move aside when something about the group in front of him caught his eye.

“Xie Songchen?!” Zhou Jingyan exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise. The next second, his gaze shifted to the alpha beside Xie Songchen, and his expression changed again—wasn’t this the alpha who had arrived late to the game that day? Zhou Jingyan remembered thinking at the time: How could someone have such a precious ticket and not watch the game?

This person turned out to be the future president of Xiangyang Entertainment?!

“Everyone, greet President Chu,” the director of the trainee department instructed.

“President, President Chu?” Zhou Jingyan was stunned. Could it be…

“I am Chu Mo from Chu Group,” the man introduced himself in a cool voice. “Pleased to meet you all.”

Chu Mo’s gaze fell on the most striking alpha in the middle of the group. With such outstanding looks, it was clearly the third male lead from the original book. Who knew what the previous company executives were thinking, not letting someone like him debut?

Everyone gasped. Chu Mo—the most prominent alpha president in H City?

Zhou Jingyan’s guess was confirmed. This man was indeed Chu Yun’s brother—Chu Mo. He hadn’t expected Chu Yun’s domineering older brother to be such a young, handsome alpha. If not for the powerful aura he exuded, his face could easily pass for that of a recent college graduate. His skin was so fair, it didn’t even seem like that of an alpha.

Initially, everyone was shocked by the new president’s identity. Then, their attention shifted to Zhou Jingyan, now looking at him with thinly veiled sympathy.

Everyone knew Zhou Jingyan and Chu Yun had a 100% compatibility rate. They also knew Chu Mo was a brother-obsessed CEO—surely, he’d see Zhou Jingyan as a thorn in his side.

“There are too many people in your trainee department,” Chu Mo said coldly. “Those who aren’t capable will definitely be eliminated.”

At these words, everyone’s expressions turned grim. Zhou Jingyan’s was the worst of all. With Chu Mo’s well-known personality, he was likely to be the first one cut.

Chu Mo looked at Zhou Jingyan and said icily, “Zhou Jingyan.”

Zhou Jingyan flinched, startled by the sudden mention of his name. “Yes,” he replied instinctively.

“I heard your compatibility with my brother is 100%,” Chu Mo said meaningfully.

Zhou Jingyan’s heart sank. Only two words echoed in his mind: It’s over.

Then, Chu Mo’s voice rang out again: “Since that’s the case, from now on—”

Zhou Jingyan swallowed hard. He lowered his gaze, not daring to look at the man who now held his fate. Sweat from his recent dance practice dripped from his face to the floor. He closed his eyes, waiting for the verdict.

“Prepare for your debut.”

Silence.

The entire company fell dead quiet.

Zhou Jingyan was stunned. After a few seconds, he looked up at Chu Mo in disbelief and blurted out, “Really?”

Even Xie Songchen beside him showed a surprised expression. No one could believe it. Chu Mo actually said Zhou Jingyan could debut?

Zhou Jingyan had been a trainee for over three years without a single opportunity. He was also perfectly matched with Chu Mo’s beloved brother. Could Chu Mo really tolerate someone like that in his company?

Zhou Jingyan himself was the most shocked of all. After years of watching people come and go, still without a debut of his own, he had seriously considered giving up. The insecurity and anxiety had weighed on him for so long.

He never expected that the new president would be the one to say—

You can debut.

While everyone was still in shock, Chu Mo spoke again. “Of course it’s true. But there’s a condition—you must sign an agreement with the company that prohibits dating after debut.”

Everyone was stunned. Suddenly, it all made sense—Chu Mo was letting Zhou Jingyan debut because idols can’t date?! Unbelievable!

In the original book, Chu Mo had always been wary of Zhou Jingyan. He feared that, like Chu Mo and Chi Cheng, Zhou Jingyan might also harbor ulterior motives toward Chu Yun. To keep Zhou Jingyan away from his brother, Chu Mo had used his influence to have Xiangyang Entertainment sign an agreement with him. The clause stated that Zhou Jingyan was absolutely not allowed to date during his debut period.

Now, with Chu Mo himself as president of Xiangyang Entertainment, he had to fulfill that plotline—as the president.

Zhou Jingyan couldn’t believe that Chu Mo was willing to let him debut for this reason. Xie Songchen stood quietly by with a complex expression. Seeing Zhou Jingyan’s silence, Chu Mo sneered.

“What, do you like my brother? Is that why you’re unwilling?”

Zhou Jingyan shook his head vigorously. He didn’t like Chu Yun. He just wanted to debut. The opportunity he’d waited more than three years for was right in front of him.

“President Chu, I want to debut,” Zhou Jingyan said earnestly, eyes shining as he looked at Chu Mo. “I’m willing to sign the agreement.”

In the novel, Zhou Jingyan hadn’t realized his feelings for Chu Yun at first either. It was only later, after becoming a popular idol, that he regretted signing the agreement—countless times.

“Let me be clear,” Chu Mo said coldly. “Whether you become popular after debuting depends entirely on your own ability. Even if you do, I still won’t let you step into the Chu family.”

Chu Mo’s tone carried a sense of innate superiority.

“Your family has no money, and you can’t give my brother happiness. I advise you not to entertain any improper thoughts.”

Zhou Jingyan wasn’t angry at Chu Mo’s words. His heart was racing as he looked at him, cautiously and hopefully asking, “I have no problem signing the agreement. When can I sign it, President Chu?”

As if afraid Chu Mo would change his mind at any moment.

Chu Mo thought to himself, So eager to debut now—but you’ll regret it once the agreement is signed. He glanced at Xie Songchen, signaling him to take out the document.

Xie Songchen pulled the no-dating agreement from a stack of papers and handed it to Zhou Jingyan. Zhou Jingyan skimmed through it, then signed it without a second’s hesitation.

Chu Mo took the document with a casual flick of his hand, tossed out a “wait for notification,” and walked away. He didn’t even glance at the other trainees.

Everyone was envious.

“Oh my god, Xiao Zhou, why would President Chu let you debut?”

“I thought he was going to fire you!”

“Congratulations, Xiao Zhou…”

Zhou Jingyan stared blankly at Chu Mo’s departing figure, then slipped his hand into the pocket of his sweatpants and pinched his thigh—hard.

“Hiss…” He gasped in pain.

It wasn’t a dream.

Zhou Jingyan hadn’t expected that the precious debut opportunity he’d worked for, worried about, and waited over three years for—would be handed to him so easily by Chu Mo.

His heart pounded uncontrollably. The elevated heart rate from his half-hour of dance practice was nothing compared to the rush brought on by watching Chu Mo’s back.

Zhou Jingyan knew that to Chu Mo, this was probably just a small, strategic move. But in that moment, all he could think was—How could there be such a good boss in the world?!

No wonder Xie Songchen had been willing to give Chu Mo his ticket. Zhou Jingyan thought, maybe Xie Songchen had been completely won over by Chu Mo’s workplace charisma.

After leaving Xiangyang Entertainment, Chu Mo suddenly remembered something. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit.

His heat period was approaching, and he needed to use inhibitors more frequently.

His hand came up empty.

He froze.

The box of strong inhibitors Xu Yi had given him was gone.

Xie Songchen, standing beside him with a blank expression, asked, “Why aren’t you getting in the car?”

Chu Mo pressed his lips together. “It’s nothing,” he said casually.

He reassured himself—it was just a box of inhibitors. He could always buy more. Besides, he wasn’t experiencing any particularly uncomfortable symptoms yet. Regular inhibitors should be enough.

After work, Chu Mo appeared calm as always. He went alone to a self-service inhibitor pharmacy near the company. These stores offered excellent privacy and were designed specifically for omegas who didn’t want others to know they were in heat.

The pharmacy was located on a quiet street corner, discreet and inconspicuous. Chu Mo wore a mask and covered himself thoroughly. He entered the store, bought several boxes of inhibitors, and placed them in an opaque bag. Adjusting the brim of his baseball cap, he walked back out.

Just then, a voice rang out:

“Hey, little brother, buying inhibitors alone?”

The voice was sleazy and mocking.

Chu Mo frowned and looked toward the speaker. Not far away, a group of alphas with dyed yellow hair was eyeing him with ill intent.

Chu Mo rarely came to places like this. But he knew that in areas like this, some desperate alphas lurked, waiting for lone omegas buying inhibitors.

Omegas in heat usually didn’t go out alone at night.

But Chu Mo did.

He didn’t want anyone knowing his identity—and nighttime offered a layer of concealment.

“I’m an alpha,” Chu Mo said coldly, his expression unreadable. “Get lost.”

The punks glanced at his height and build. For a moment, they hesitated. He really did look like an alpha. They exchanged uneasy looks.

But their leader, unwilling to give up, sneered. “You say you are, so you are?” He lunged forward and yanked off Chu Mo’s mask.

Chu Mo didn’t resist.

Under the brim of his hat, his face remained icy. His narrow eyes radiated a powerful aura. It was the kind of presence only a top alpha possessed.

The punks instinctively drew back, intimidated.

Chu Mo raised an eyebrow. “What? Want me to teach you a lesson?”

What Chu Mo didn’t realize was that, having skipped his inhibitor all day, his pheromones were no longer entirely suppressed. Though he looked like an alpha, he exuded an allure far more potent than a typical omega.

His well-built body, wrapped in a sharp suit, appeared even more seductive under the influence of his heat.

The leader swallowed hard. “Why do I feel… this alpha is more captivating than an omega?”

The sidekick shuddered. “Boss, seriously? Are you interested in alphas?”

Another chimed in, “Come on, he looks like an alpha—”

“He won’t be as easy to handle as an omega…”

“Bunch of cowards,” the leader spat. “I know he’s an omega.”

With that, he stepped forward, reaching for Chu Mo’s neck. No matter how well an omega pretended, they still had scent glands.

Chu Mo grabbed his wrist and twisted—hard.

Crack!

The leader screamed in agony. “Aahhh—!”

The others watched their boss writhing in pain. They exchanged panicked looks, then surged forward to “teach that alpha-looking omega a lesson.”

But Chu Mo wasn’t an ordinary omega.

He’d trained in martial arts and boxing. His strength surpassed that of many typical alphas.

As the punks charged, Chu Mo dropped his bag and threw a sharp, clean punch. His fist sliced through the air and dislocated one guy’s jaw on impact.

Screams rang out, echoing from the dimly lit street corner.

But Chu Mo was still an omega, and without an inhibitor, he began to struggle against the alpha punks. Just as one of them tried to sneak up and land a punch on the back of Chu Mo’s head—

Bang—

A figure appeared behind Chu Mo, delivering a flying kick square to the punk’s chest. Under the dim streetlight, the punk’s body sailed several meters through the air before crashing to the ground. He saw stars and nearly fainted on the spot.

Chu Mo turned in surprise. A tall figure stepped into view—and in the next second, a familiar face appeared.

Chu Mo’s eyes widened. “Xie Songchen?!”

What was he doing here?!

Chu Mo immediately frowned. He didn’t want to be looked down on by Xie Songchen. His voice turned cold.

“I don’t need your help. I can handle these small fry…”

“I know you can handle them,” Xie Songchen interrupted, expressionless.

Chu Mo was momentarily taken aback.

Before he could respond, Xie Songchen moved. In a few swift, practiced motions, he took down the remaining punks with brutal efficiency. The group, now thoroughly beaten and humiliated, scrambled to their feet and fled in panic.

Chu Mo stared at Xie Songchen’s back, a strange feeling washing over him—familiar and… comforting.

The last time he’d felt this way was during archery. Back then, every time before Chu Mo took a shot, Xie Songchen would hit a near-perfect score, buying him room for error.

Chu Mo couldn’t quite put the feeling into words. But if he had to describe it…

Maybe it was—a sense of security?

He blinked, stunned by the thought.

A sense of security… from Xie Songchen?

No. Impossible. He couldn’t break character now.

Chu Mo quickly pulled himself together and crossed his arms, his tone snapping back to that of a domineering alpha.

“Since you knew I could handle them,” he said coolly, “why did you step in?”

Xie Songchen glanced at him, eyes unreadable. Then, without warning, he said:

“I didn’t want to see their hands touch you.”

Chu Mo was caught off guard. What did that mean? Before he could think further, Xie Songchen’s gaze shifted—landing on the opaque bag lying on the ground.

He stepped forward and bent down to pick it up.

Chu Mo’s heart skipped a beat.

“No—” he started, but it was too late.

Xie Songchen had already opened the bag.

Several boxes of omega inhibitors came into view.

Xie Songchen froze slightly, clearly taken aback.

“Ah, well,” Chu Mo said, feigning calmness. He forced his voice to stay steady. “These are for Chu Yun.”

Xie Songchen said nothing.

Chu Mo couldn’t tell if he believed him or not.

Xie Songchen looked at him for a long moment. Under the night sky, Chu Mo somehow felt… different.

There was something softer in his features now, something he usually worked hard to conceal.

Noticing Xie Songchen’s scrutinizing gaze, Chu Mo quickly lowered his head, letting the brim of his cap cast a shadow over his face.

But it was too late.

In that quiet second, a bold—and completely absurd—thought flashed through Xie Songchen’s mind:

Could it be… that Chu Mo is an omega?!