Thirty First Day of Pretending to Be an Alpha

The omega in the photo, by appearance alone, was nearly flawless.

Fair-skinned, with delicate features and a hint of cold aloofness, he looked like someone who wouldn’t talk much. The corners of his lips were slightly downturned, and his eyes carried an unapproachable air. He gave off the impression of a quiet, obedient type—someone who’d keep secrets.

But for some reason, Chu Mo kept feeling like something was off.

There was an aura about this person that didn’t quite scream “omega.”

Then the agency messaged him:

[Boss, this omega scores full marks on looks, has a calm personality, is nineteen, will obediently take inhibitors, and will leave right after the job and payment. Would you like to consider him?]

Still feeling uneasy, Chu Mo replied:

[Do you have his identity information? Send me a copy.]

The agency responded quickly—but not with the answer he wanted.

[Boss, in our line of work, identity is confidential. If too many people know, it’s hard for them to keep taking fake couple jobs.]

Then came the reassurance:

[Rest assured, boss. This one is absolutely reliable, especially in terms of personality—doesn’t talk at all!]

Chu Mo frowned.

He understood the unspoken rules of the “fake partner” business. Once paid, the relationship ended. No real names, no real attachments. Discretion was the whole point.

He replied: [I’ll think about it.]

But the agency wasn’t giving up that easily.

[Boss, this omega is really good. Top student from C University. Poor family background. Sweet-talking and popular—lots of clients want him!]

C University? That was next to H University, and just as prestigious. A top student, huh?

Chu Mo hesitated. He still didn’t like the idea of bringing someone with an unknown background into his life.

Then came the trump card.

[How about this, boss? I’ll just send you his WeChat. You can chat first. If you’re satisfied, then sign.]

Before Chu Mo could even reply, the contact was sent over.

The WeChat profile had a cartoon avatar—a white-haired boy from a popular horror comic. The nickname was simply “Chen.” Cold and impersonal. Not at all what the agency claimed was a “sweet talker.”

Chu Mo stared at the contact.

He didn’t add him.

He closed the app and decided to think it over.

⸻

Meanwhile, at C University, in the male alpha dormitory—

“No way, Xiao Xie,” a roommate exclaimed. “You’re really gonna pretend to be an omega? Take fake couple jobs from alphas for money?”

Chen Songxie lay on the bed, dressed in a black tank top and sports shorts, flipping through a comic.

He had black hair, striking features, and a shallow scar just above his brow. Calmly, he glanced down at his roommate and said,

“The agency saw my photo and said I could do omega gigs.”

“You do look good,” the roommate muttered, clicking his tongue. “But will any alpha actually fall for it?”

Chen Songxie picked up his phone. The agency had said they’d recommended him to someone. It had been over an hour. The other party still hadn’t added him.

“I don’t know,” he said, setting the phone aside and going back to his comic. “If not, forget it.”

What the agency hadn’t told the alpha client was that they’d altered Chen Songxie’s gender and age. Claimed he was nineteen, a sweet talker, and top of his class.

In reality?

Chen Songxie was twenty-one. A junior.

An alpha.

Quiet. Low profile. A sports major with a thing for horror comics.

The scar on his forehead was from a high school fight.

He thought to himself: Surely no alpha is dumb enough to be fooled… right?

His roommate chuckled. “You never know. Some alphas are rich and dumb. Maybe they just like your type.”

Chen Songxie raised an eyebrow. “What type?”

“Fair skin. Abs. Athletic,” the roommate replied with full sincerity. “That’s rare in omegas.”

“You sound jealous,” Chen Songxie said flatly. “Should I send you instead?”

The roommate waved him off. “Nah. I’m not cute enough to scam someone rich.”

Then he added brightly, “If you do land a domineering alpha, you better take the whole dorm with you to get rich.”

Chen Songxie gave him a death glare. “Get lost.”

Just then, his phone buzzed.

He glanced down.

A message from home.

[We need money. Again.]

He stared at the screen for a few seconds, then locked it.

His face didn’t change at all.

He was used to this.

If that client doesn’t contact me by tonight, he thought, I’ll have to start waiting tables again.

⸻

Back at Chu Mo’s office—

He’d gotten so busy with work that he completely forgot about the fake partner issue.

Besides managing Xiangyang Entertainment and overseeing project developments, he still had to track the progress of the novel’s plot.

One unexpected challenge?

Xie Songchen’s project had been too successful. It brought in major profits for the company.

Chu Mo, reluctantly, had to give him a raise.

He called Xie Songchen into the office to inform him. The man reacted calmly, like it didn’t matter to him at all.

Chu Mo narrowed his eyes.

“Have you been bothering my brother at school lately?”

After a brief silence, Xie Songchen replied, “Haven’t spoken.”

Chu Mo’s eyes flashed with frustration. The main characters actually had a falling out?!

If there’s a fight, go make up! Don’t just stand there like a brick. How’s the plot supposed to move like this?

He sneered,

“Let me guess—misunderstanding? Argument? Either way, it’s not surprising. You don’t know how to put yourself in someone else’s shoes. You don’t know how to make the person you like happy. You can’t coax people. Of course you can’t reconcile.”

He sounded smug.

But really, he was giving advice.

Xie Songchen blinked, caught off guard. After a pause, he asked in a low voice,

“…How do you coax someone?”

Chu Mo glanced at him.

In the original novel, Xie Songchen was romantically clueless. Secretly in love with Chu Yun for years but too emotionally stunted to act on it.

“Obviously,” Chu Mo said, crossing his arms, “you take them to do what they want.”

Then he added, full of disdain,

“But I suggest you give up. What my brother wants… is probably something a poor guy like you can’t afford.”

Xie Songchen didn’t respond. But for the rest of the day, he seemed to be deep in thought.

⸻

That evening, Chu Mo had a business dinner.

The other party was a real estate mogul—interested in the project Dingming was developing. Since Xie Songchen was the project lead, Chu Mo brought him along.

The dinner took place at a rooftop garden restaurant in a high-end mall.

It lasted four, nearly five, hours. Thankfully, the meeting went well. The boss seemed serious about cooperating.

After the meal, Chu Mo and Xie Songchen walked out of the restaurant together.

After sending the boss off, Chu Mo turned to him.

“The subway’s still running. You can get home yourself.”

Xie Songchen nodded, “Mm,” and turned to leave.

The mall was nearly closed. Few people lingered.

Chu Mo was about to find the elevator when something caught his eye.

Off to the side—several mini claw machines.

He paused.

These weren’t regular ones. They were keychain claw machines—compact, cute, with miniature claws inside. Pink casings. Lined with limited-edition cartoon merch.

Chu Mo stared for a long moment.

They’re kind of… cute.

Without thinking, he stepped closer.

Before transmigrating into the book, Chu Mo had always been playful. After transmigrating, in order to complete his task and return to the original world, he had been living as the heir of the Chu family. 

Chu Yansheng wasn’t the only one who had expectations of him—his mother, the company’s board, and his brothers all expected something from him. All of this made him afraid to break character. If he slipped, the consequences would be unimaginable.

But at this moment, the unfamiliar mall was about to close. There was no one else around. Chu Mo rubbed his hands, ready to play a round and have some fun. Just as he was about to take out his phone to scan the code and buy coins—

“Do you like playing this?” A familiar voice came from beside him.

Chu Mo was startled. He quickly turned around and pointed his phone at a poster on the wall. Smoothly, he scanned the QR code in the bottom right corner and said, “Actually, I was planning to scan this.” The whole sequence of actions was fluid and natural.

A second later, an ad for a dating app popped up on Chu Mo’s phone screen.

[Are you a lonely alpha or an empty omega? Come here to find a little brother!]

Chu Mo: “…”

He looked up at the poster and realized it was indeed an ad for some dating app.

Beside him, Xie Songchen made a noise, commenting dryly, “Didn’t expect President Chu to have such… needs.”

Chu Mo calmly put his phone away. “Just doing some research. We are an internet company, after all.”

Compared to downloading a dating app, playing the keychain claw machine somehow felt even more out of character. Noticing that Xie Songchen didn’t seem to believe him, Chu Mo quickly changed the subject. “Didn’t you leave already? Why are you back?”

“I left my wallet in the restaurant. Came back to get it,” Xie Songchen replied. As he spoke, he looked Chu Mo up and down. “Then why are you still here?”

Chu Mo lifted his chin and replied with two words.

“Just browsing.”

Xie Songchen looked around at the already closed shops, falling silent for a few seconds. Then, glancing at Chu Mo again, he said, “If you play now, you’ve still got ten minutes.”

“…Who’s playing?” Chu Mo shot back.

“What do you think?” Xie Songchen walked over to the machine, scanned the code to buy coins, and lazily lifted his eyelids. “Is there anyone else here?”

Chu Mo had just wanted to scratch a small itch for the claw machine. He didn’t expect to get caught by the main character so quickly. He fumed—he had spent so long pretending to be a cold, domineering alpha. Was it really such a crime to reward himself with a game?

Xie Songchen inserted two coins into the machine, skillfully maneuvering the small metal claw. The claw didn’t seem particularly strong. He barely adjusted its position, aimed at a keychain, and pressed the button. A few seconds later, victory music played—the keychain dropped successfully.

Chu Mo was dumbfounded. No way. How did he get it on the first try? Are you some kind of lucky dog?

He held back the urge to say it aloud.

Xie Songchen dangled the line-drawn puppy keychain in front of him, raising an eyebrow. “Can you do it?”

Chu Mo’s competitive spirit flared up. His desire to play the keychain claw machine instantly reached its peak. But he still clung to the last bit of rationality.

“I’m an alpha,” he said seriously, “how could I play something like that?”

“Why can’t an alpha play?” Xie Songchen asked nonchalantly, pocketing the keychain and looking at him.

Chu Mo was caught off guard. He hadn’t expected that. In the original novel, Xie Songchen was an alpha with a strong sense of pride and competitiveness. Logically, he should’ve found playing a claw machine humiliating. Yet here he was—not only playing, but also questioning why an alpha couldn’t.

“…I’m also a president,” Chu Mo added, frowning.

“Then why can’t a president play?” Xie Songchen countered again.

Chu Mo was momentarily speechless.

“Don’t you think,” he finally asked, “this kind of thing doesn’t fit my character?”

Xie Songchen paused. Then, looking directly into Chu Mo’s eyes, he asked seriously, “Isn’t this what you want to do?”

Of course Chu Mo wanted to—but he couldn’t.

It was as if Xie Songchen could see right through him. He added with a faint smirk, “If you can’t catch one, just say so. Don’t make excuses.”

“Who says I can’t?” Chu Mo was instantly provoked, gritting his teeth. “Watch me.”

He stepped up to the machine. Just as he was about to scan the code, a hand reached out from behind and inserted the rest of the coins.

The machine’s screen lit up: 15 chances remaining.

Chu Mo froze and looked at Xie Songchen in surprise.

“I don’t need that many coins,” Xie Songchen said casually. “I’ll clear the machine otherwise. Might as well leave them for you.”

Annoyed by his arrogance, Chu Mo didn’t hold back anymore. He started playing. One, two, three…

Five minutes later, all ten of Chu Mo’s fingers were adorned with keychains. He proudly held out his hands, shaking them in front of Xie Songchen.

“Can you do this?”

Xie Songchen looked at the ridiculous amount of keychains and asked, “Didn’t you say you didn’t want to play?”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Chu Mo was caught off guard. Slowly, he realized—Xie Songchen had done it all on purpose. Just so he could play the keychain claw machine.

“I was just proving I’m better than you,” Chu Mo muttered, then stuffed all the keychains into Xie Songchen’s hands.

Holding the bundle of cartoon trinkets, Xie Songchen looked helpless. “I don’t have that many keys to hang them on.”

He stuffed them into his jacket pockets, which instantly bulged. Then, after a pause, he pulled out the line-drawn puppy keychain he’d caught earlier and handed it to Chu Mo.

“Here, this one’s for you.”

Chu Mo had wanted to refuse. But… this keychain was just too cute. After all his earlier effort, he also didn’t want to walk away empty-handed.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment and reached out to accept it. “I’ll just take one. As a memento. The rest are too childish. I’m not really into them…”

Xie Songchen looked at him quietly, then said, “That keychain is part of a couple’s set. Don’t you want the other one?”

Chu Mo shook his head. “No.”

But Xie Songchen kept staring at him. Then, from his pocket, he produced the matching keychain—the gray version of the puppy. Chu Mo’s was white.

He dangled the gray one on his finger and held it out. It swayed gently as he asked again, “You sure you don’t want it?”

Chu Mo frowned. Why did he keep pressing the issue?

Of course he wanted to keep them both. But he had a character to maintain. He couldn’t do something so… revealing.

“No,” Chu Mo replied again.

A heavy silence fell between them. The large mall was eerily quiet. Suddenly, Chu Mo sensed something was off. It felt like… Xie Songchen was testing him?

At that moment, Xie Songchen looked up at Chu Mo and slowly asked, “Why? Aren’t you going to bring one back for your partner?”

Chu Mo froze. So that’s what this was about?

“Of course I will,” he said quickly, reaching for the keychain. “I just forgot earlier.”

Xie Songchen raised his hand, and the keychain slipped out of reach, falling back into his palm. He closed his fingers around it.

“Too late,” he said.

Chu Mo grasped at the empty air. Xie Songchen raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. “Seems like you don’t care much about your ‘partner.’”

His tone was light, teasing. Clearly, he didn’t believe Chu Mo had anyone.

Chu Mo kept his expression neutral. Why did it seem like Xie Songchen was almost happy that he didn’t have a partner?

He replied calmly, “I wouldn’t go as far as to make one up.”

“Is that so?” Xie Songchen said, then added with a smirk, “Then your ‘partner’ doesn’t seem very diligent. Never shows up at the company.”

He clearly didn’t believe him.

Chu Mo took a slow breath. After a moment, he looked up and said firmly, “He’s just been busy lately.”

Xie Songchen looked surprised.

Chu Mo continued, “But you’re right. I should have him come visit more often.”

His voice was steady, confident—like he wasn’t lying at all.

Xie Songchen froze. A flicker of disbelief crossed his face.

“What did you say?” he asked, stunned.

⸻

Meanwhile, at C University, in the male alpha dormitory, Chen Songxie was packing his luggage.

His roommate looked at him in confusion. “Xie-ge, why are you packing in the middle of the night?”

“Going to work out of town tomorrow,” Chen Songxie said casually. “Waiting tables. Two hundred a day.”

The roommate was shocked. “Seriously? You’re really going to wait tables?”

Chen Songxie lifted his eyelids. “Unless you’re giving me money?”

The roommate protested, “Xie-ge, that kind of work is exhausting and barely pays. They’re just taking advantage of you. Don’t go.”

Chen Songxie didn’t respond and kept packing.

“Besides,” the roommate added, “there are tons of other ways to make money. You don’t have to—”

Just then, Chen Songxie’s phone vibrated.

He checked the screen and saw a friend request pop up—from an unfamiliar account.

Chen Songxie froze.

The roommate kept going, still trying to convince him. “Xie-ge, our school has work-study programs too. Why not sign up for—”

“No need,” Chen Songxie cut him off.

The roommate blinked. “What?”

“I said,” Chen Songxie looked at his phone, voice calm, “I don’t need to wait tables anymore.”