Pretending to Be an Alpha in an All-Alpha Boy Band - Chapter 25
Chapter 25 Little Figurines
Yuan Shiyuan had thought Zhuang He would use this dinner to bring something up, but Zhuang He spent the whole time just eating and enthusiastically ordering more dishes for them, as if afraid they wouldn’t have enough or wouldn’t eat well.
As the meal wound down, Zhuang He yawned lazily. “It’s getting late. Don’t go back—stay here. I booked several rooms for you, but there’s only one suite; the rest are standard double rooms.”
“To be fair, draw lots to decide.”
A waiter brought over a lot-drawing container. Pei Yanbing glanced subtly at the man’s bow tie.
That wasn’t an ordinary bow tie.
Ying Mingche ignored the lot container entirely, looping an arm around Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulders. “I don’t care — I’ll room with you.”
He spoke as if it were a given. “Even if you draw someone else, I’ll sneak in at night and sleep with you.”
Yuan Shiyuan was used to Mingche’s physical antics. He shifted his shoulders slightly to get comfortable and leaned against Mingche.
“Fine, come then,” he smiled. “I’ll lock the door anyway.”
“Locks won’t help,” Mingche poked Shiyuan’s shoulder with a finger. “I’ll climb in through the window. I can swim—falling in the water is no problem.”
“If that fails, I’ll hide in the closet like last time,” Mingche added. “You can’t stop me.”
When Mingche decided he wanted something, nobody could stop him.
Yuan Shiyuan was helpless. “Why are you like a rabid dog?”
“A rabid dog?”
Mingche lightly raised an eyebrow. It was the first time anyone had described him that way—and to everyone’s surprise he didn’t object at all; he even seemed a little pleased.
He deliberately squeezed Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder and lowered his voice, “It’s fine if you know I’m a rabid dog.”
“To keep me from biting people, you’ll have to be responsible for tying me up. We’ll sleep together tonight—let’s decide that happily.”
Bo Jin interjected coldly, “Brother Zhuang said: draw lots to decide.”
Mingche was annoyed but probably already suspected hidden cameras around; maybe the recording had started the second they boarded the ship.
So he complied and drew a lot. No matter what he drew, he planned to sneak into Yuan Shiyuan’s room tonight.
Yuan Shiyuan was lucky—he drew the largest suite, and his roommate turned out to be Ying Mingxi.
“Shiyuan and Mingxi in the same room,” Zhuang He declared, ignoring others’ protests. “Now that the rooms are assigned, go to your rooms. I’m heading back to sleep—I’m exhausted.”
“Get to bed early, everyone; we’ll have a busy day tomorrow.”
Those words carried a certain implication.
By now they could be sure the show had begun filming.
Maybe every corner of the ship, every passing tourist and waiter, had a camera. Perhaps they were all planted by the production team—like The Truman Show.
Before leaving, Zhuang He ordered another round of dishes at random from the menu.
Someone nearby was staring intensely. Yuan Shiyuan and Bo Jin caught each other’s gaze and suddenly remembered something.
“You’ve been on a shopping spree lately,” Yuan Shiyuan said. “Buying so many clothes your wardrobe can’t hold them all?”
Bo Jin’s expression grew slightly awkward; he replied lightly, “Is it that many? It’s… not too bad.”
He paused for a moment, then, as if casually, studied Yuan Shiyuan’s face. “Have you opened the wardrobe?”
“I looked in the wardrobe. I didn’t check the piles on the floor.”
“Why not open it and look?”
Yuan Shiyuan felt puzzled. “Why would I want to look at the things you bought?”
“…” Bo Jin frowned. He said, “What I bought for you is for you.”
Yuan Shiyuan froze, pointing at himself in disbelief. “Bought for me?”
Ying Mingche’s tone was low and dry: “Impressive—buying clothes too. Such moving roommate devotion.”
Bo Jin ignored Ying’s sarcastic jab and looked at Yuan Shiyuan. “Yes, I bought them for you. Do you like them?”
Yuan Shiyuan only glanced over them roughly—the wardrobe was full of ready-to-wear luxury brands, and there were many sleepwear pieces that were clearly much too large.
“I like them, of course I like them.” He added, “But I have enough clothes.”
That was a polite refusal.
Ying Mingche laughed out loud.
Bo Jin’s face darkened, then he quickly came up with a rationale. These clothes had been bought according to his own taste—it’s normal if Yuan Shiyuan didn’t like them or refused them.
Next time he’d take Yuan Shiyuan shopping so Yuan could pick things himself; they could watch a movie or have a meal together then.
Thinking that made Bo Jin feel much better.
“If you don’t like them, just throw them away. Do whatever you want with them,” he said. “Once I give something away, I don’t take it back.”
Quite a staunch A-type attitude.
“Isn’t this being filmed? Has it already started?” Yuan Shiyuan changed the subject.
He looked out into the vast night; the cruise had left the shore, and the shoreline was lined with tall buildings like a grid of various-sized boxes.
He rarely watched variety shows—he’d only done group shows before, so wasn’t familiar with this kind of program flow. “So what are we supposed to do now?”
Everyone turned to Ying Mingche.
Ying had done more variety shows and was familiar with the different formats.
“From my experience,” Ying said, “the recording starts the moment we disembark. The tourists and others on the cruise are likely production-arranged NPCs; maybe they’re even watching us from some room, occasionally being given tasks to guide us into the next segment.”
“Brother Zhuang was the first NPC—he treated us to a meal. Maybe it was his last conscience-driven dinner? He told us to go back to our rooms…” Ying guessed. “There might be task cards or some prompts in the rooms.”
That guess made sense—the production team needs to push the show along, and Zhuang He’s urging them to rest in their rooms was probably a hint.
Yuan Shiyuan recalled Zhuang He’s expression before leaving; beneath his pink hair his face had been very serious. “I think Brother Zhuang is setting us up.”
“Though he treated us to a good meal at the end, I still felt his smile was malicious. The more he urged us to go back, the less I dared to,” Yuan Shiyuan said—his emotional perception was very keen. He looked at Pei Yanbing. “Captain, you said there are a lot of cameras on the ship, right?”
“Everywhere,” Pei Yanbing said.
“If this was a normal variety show, the production team wouldn’t hide, and they wouldn’t need so many cameras—the cameras cost money. Spending to fill the ship with cameras while refusing to show themselves seems more like a mean prank,” Yuan Shiyuan intuited.
Ying Mingche thought for a moment, then suddenly said, “Hearing you talk makes me think of a program.”
“There’s a popular show right now called Struggling to Survive. They get their kicks by tricking guests—the program is a 24/7 live format that records every move of the participants. In the last episode, the production told guests they were going to a beach resort but dumped them on a deserted island to survive. The guests built tents, made fires, caught fish—sleeping exposed, disheveled, losing several pounds you could see with the naked eye.”
“That episode had great TV value and was widely praised by the audience. But those guests said they would never go on that show again.”
Ying Mingxi said, “Maybe Shiyuan guessed correctly.”
“He actually did guess correctly.”
Zhuang He, who should have gone back to his room to rest, gave a subtle look to a nearby waiter. The waiter returned an OK hand signal. Zhuang He quietly went down a level and entered a corner room.
The room was packed, filled with various filming and live-streaming equipment. The main electronic screen at the front displayed surveillance footage of different areas of the cruise ship, while a giant side screen rolled live comments.
—Yuan Shiyuan’s intuition is so on point!!
—Struggling to Survive, you really outdid yourself. This time the guests are the entire Scepter team. With my wife in it, I’m definitely watching the whole live stream. [silly smile]
—○’s face can really take a beating, from every angle! Heh heh heh, soon we’ll even see ○’s sleeping face, so excited.
—Don’t get excited yet. Those Scepter members all act like As and have terrible tempers. I’m worried they’ll refuse to cooperate and quit mid-recording—hasn’t that happened before? [hand over face]
—I actually can’t imagine these strong bros on Struggling to Survive, or how it’ll develop. Given this production team’s style, they love tormenting guests, and with a full live broadcast with no fluff or script, even the best actors get roasted… After the last episode the guests looked worn out. I’m so worried about Shiyuan not eating well or staying warm. [big cry]
—Scepter miner alphas, I was harsh to you before—my bad, I beg you… please take care of my wife. [hands together][kowtow][crying heavily]
—Tonic! Tonic! My Yuan Yuan is a little princess, don’t bully my Yuan Yuan! [big cry]
—I’d accept them screwing my wife, just please don’t let my little Yuan go hungry! [big cry].
The production team tilted their heads to look at Zhuang He, recalled how he had acted earlier, and couldn’t help but smile. “You’re ruthless—you actually tricked them onto the show.”
“Your group—Shiyuan only brought a small backpack? Looks like there are just a few snacks in there? How are they supposed to get through the rest of this?”
Although their variety show relied on surprise and many celebrities had been “tricked” before, those celebrities usually had some idea of what kind of show they’d be on and would bring some essentials. Not like Scepter—completely unprepared.
Zhuang He waved his hand. “Isn’t your show all about being real? Being more authentic is better; that’s what makes good TV and gives viewers something to watch.”
The director replied, “Idols who shine brilliantly are made to struggle—it’s a strong contrast and really watchable.”
Zhuang He smiled but said nothing.
Idols should indeed shine brilliantly, but they must not be aloof. Without fans’ love, they are nothing.
Scepter had been too unrelatable, too pretentious.
At first, Starry Night Entertainment mispositioned Scepter. They tried to sell them on being S-rank alphas, emphasizing S-rank characteristics, and that turned many people off. When people thought of Scepter, their first reaction was that the group was pretentious, fitting the stereotypical image of S-rank alphas.
That initial impression stuck. Even after they released good work later, few people were convinced.
The director joked, “Aren’t you afraid they’ll quit recording?”
“They’re hard to manage, but their tempers aren’t that bad,” Zhuang He shook his head.
Previously there had been rumors of Scepter quitting a show mid-recording—back then the production insisted on pushing in a connected insider, squeezing out a more talented artist without connections, and then gave Scepter a script.
They couldn’t take it anymore and walked out in the middle of the show.
“They’re getting ready to return to their rooms,” the director said. “Be ready to switch the main live-feed camera in a bit.”
The live broadcast split into a main feed and secondary feeds. In the largest central frame, as the Scepter members returned to their rooms, Jiang Heng suddenly turned back halfway and walked in the exact opposite direction.
—?? What is Jiang Heng doing?
—Isn’t his room just ahead? Why is he going upstairs? That’s completely the other way.
—Wait… regular rooms are all on this floor; only suites are upstairs. Jiang Heng’s going to find Yuan Shiyuan!
—Night visiting little Yuan for naughty business—can’t blame him, right? [kiss rose]
—Not sleeping at this hour and knocking on my little Yuan’s door, what a scandal! [angry]
—Right now ○ is about to take a shower, and Ying Mingxi isn’t back either. If he doesn’t seize this opportunity, I really have to question Jiang Heng’s guts. [thumbs up]
—Jiang Heng, please don’t disappoint me—go hard, I want to see the emperor. [yellow heart]
Jiang Heng stood at Yuan Shiyuan’s door, staring at the door just inches away, as if about to knock, then drawing his hand back.
After hesitating several times, spurred on by the excited barrage of comments, he finally knocked.
No one opened the door.
Jiang Heng stood there, stunned.
Just when he thought no one would open it, the door swung inward from the inside.
Jiang Heng’s pupils widened at once.
Warm yellow light haloed his face through the pale pink hair, creating a rim of gilded color.
Yuan Shiyuan wore only a simple bathrobe; his face was damp and flushed. Surprised to see Jiang Heng, he tilted his head up and asked, “What are you doing here? I thought Ying Mingxi had come back.”
“You…” Jiang Heng seemed not to know how to start, and he cast a furtive glance inside.
“It’s cool in there—come in and talk.” Yuan Shiyuan thought a moment and added, “Don’t worry, it’s just me in the room.”
“Ying Mingxi hasn’t returned yet.”
—This awkward dialogue… [hehe]
—Oh my God, naughty little Yuan… taking advantage of your roommate (actually your husband) being away to secretly let another teammate (actually the seducer) into your room, and saying something like that… isn’t that an invitation?! [cover eyes]
—Damn it, damn it, it’s making me so hot! Let me punish this naughty Yuan. [furious][pants][-1]
—Jiang Heng, you won’t charge in?! If you don’t, I will! [angry]
—I wouldn’t hesitate: bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang. [silly grin]
When Jiang Heng entered the room, a delicate scent hit him. He reflexively looked toward the rumpled bed—that was where Yuan Shiyuan had just been lying.
“You…” His eyes went to the little figurine hanging on the backpack on the sofa.
“Do you have something you want to say to me?” Yuan Shiyuan asked, puzzled. “You’ve been staring at me.”
Jiang Heng’s fingers clenched suddenly.
“From the company entrance, to the car, and even just now at dinner—you’ve been staring at me the whole time.”
Yuan Shiyuan had noticed.
Jiang Heng thought his peeking had been discreet, but he had only been fooling himself; Yuan Shiyuan had seen all of his little movements.
Jiang Heng forced himself to stay calm. “What about it?”
“Nothing.” Yuan Shiyuan took the charm off the backpack. “Do you really like this little doll?”
It was a pale-colored rabbit plush, with a pink heart-shaped nose and a small pink bow tie on its chest. It looked like a knockoff, but its fur was smooth and clean—clearly well cared for by its owner.
Jiang Heng repeated the question, “Do you really like this doll?”
Instead of answering, Yuan Shiyuan returned the question: “Why?”
“I was just a bit surprised.” Jiang Heng said casually, “This plush looks kind of worn, not very pretty—doesn’t seem like something you’d use.”
Jiang Heng watched Yuan Shiyuan’s expression closely.
Yuan Shiyuan remained quiet; maybe because he had just washed his face, a faint flush lingered on his cheeks.
Jiang Heng hadn’t been drinking, but at that sight he felt a little intoxicated.
After a moment, Yuan Shiyuan called, “Jiang Heng.”
Hearing his full name made Jiang Heng’s heart tighten, as if invisible shackles had clamped around his throat.
Yuan Shiyuan said, “I think—it’s impolite to casually belittle something someone else likes.”
Jiang Heng’s pupils dilated.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He seemed at a loss for words.
“I accept your apology,” Yuan Shiyuan said indifferently. “Do you have anything else to say?”
“If not, I’ll go back to washing my face.” He added, “I need to use the hot water sooner rather than later—I’m worried there won’t be enough when Mingxi comes back.”
Jiang Heng shook his head.
After Yuan Shiyuan went into the bathroom, Jiang Heng didn’t leave right away.
He stood there, staring at the charm on the backpack.
Yuan Shiyuan just said… likes it?
Does Yuan Shiyuan really like this little plush?
Jiang Heng’s fingers trembled violently. He had thought Yuan Shiyuan had forgotten: when they first met, Yuan Shiyuan had been wearing the silver earring from his mother—the right-ear stud.
On the little beds in the welfare institute, Jiang Heng had awkwardly written down his secret and exchanged it with Yuan Shiyuan.
But Yuan Shiyuan didn’t remember.
After all, they were young then, they didn’t even have names, so not recognizing or remembering one another made sense. He didn’t blame Yuan Shiyuan—if anyone was at fault it was himself for not leaving a deep enough impression.
And yet Yuan Shiyuan had kept this little plush all along.
Kept it… all this time?
Yuan Shiyuan had kept this plush, even though it wasn’t delicate or expensive.
But that plush had been given to him by a childhood friend; it carried extraordinary meaning and, to him, was more precious than any luxury item.
Yuan Shiyuan had always had the habit of treasuring and preserving gifts from others.
He usually didn’t have a skincare routine, but after signing with Starry Night Entertainment, Zhuang He often sent him skincare items—especially sunscreen.
Zhuang He repeatedly emphasized that sunscreen was very important. Even if you skip other skincare, you must do sunscreen.
Yuan Shiyuan looked refined, but like most Alphas he lived simply—yet he couldn’t avoid Zhuang He’s daily supervision.
The first thing Zhuang He did every morning was remind him to apply sunscreen.
Yuan Shiyuan had no choice but to obey.
Because he used sunscreen, he needed cleanser to remove it. After lathering a thick foam in his palms, he buried his face in his hands and rubbed—no technique at all.
The unfamiliar motion caused foam to get into his eyes; it felt awful.
He heard footsteps in the living room, wiped his face, but still couldn’t open his eyes. Blurry, he reached out along the wall and went out: “Jiang Heng, are you still here?”
“I have disposable towels in my bag—could you help me get one?”
Yuan Shiyuan was very clean; even knowing the cruise’s items would be regularly washed and sterilized, he couldn’t get past it in his mind.
He preferred to use his own disposable supplies.
By coincidence, Yuan Shize had prepared many disposables for him. And the reason Yuan Shiyuan had brought his backpack was to share some snacks with everyone.
He hadn’t expected to stumble into a recording by chance.
“Okay.” Jiang Heng said, “Is it this one?”
Yuan Shiyuan forced his stinging eyes open and could just make out the scene before him. He went to the sofa and watched as the Alpha opened his backpack and took out a pack of clean, white disposables.
“Yes, that one.” The corners of his eyes were miserably wet; his eyelashes trembled and the stinging in his eyes worsened.
“Found it.”
As soon as Yuan Shiyuan heard the plastic tear, he bent over and, out of habit, leaned his damp face forward.
Both men froze.
Yuan Shiyuan was used to being tended to by Yuan Shize, so for a moment he didn’t register it—he had reflexively treated the teammate in front of him like his younger brother who looked after him.
Embarrassment flooded him. Just as he began to come to his senses, a hand slowly pinched his chin.
It wasn’t a strong grip, but it felt very commanding. With a little pressure from the fingertip, his face was lifted slightly.
“Come a bit closer,” Jiang Heng said. “You’re a little far; I can’t reach.”
“Spread your legs.”
—? Jiang Heng, listen to what you’re saying?
—I thought you were just someone who took care of his stomach, didn’t expect hidden tricks… even letting the wife come to him, this is too extra! [angry][pointing]
—Wow this posture is unreal…
—Yes… ○ didn’t even notice, his collar’s open, his collarbone wet with droplets, all right under jh’s nose. jh just needs to look up…
—The wife is handing herself over and you won’t take her? Your mouth’s useless, let me do it! [pacing anxiously]
—Was I the only one staring at ○’s waist? It’s so slim…
Yuan Shiyuan blinked, then said, “Okay.”
He quickly realized: this was an act—someone was performing for him.
Still, he was somewhat surprised that Jiang Heng, who usually answered everyone coldly, would take the initiative to perform for him…
Jiang Heng’s movements were clumsy but meticulous; knowing Yuan Shiyuan’s eyes hurt, he prioritized wiping the tears at the outer corners.
When his fingertips touched the sensitive tear ducts, Yuan Shiyuan instinctively braced and spread his legs to steady himself.
Once his eyes could open properly, he looked at the face so close he could see down to those snow-white legs—between them, the thigh of another Alpha.
To make it easier for Jiang Heng to wipe, Yuan Shiyuan stood with his legs on either side of Jiang Heng’s knees, which were pressed between his thighs.
The faint physical contact created a strange electric tension.
Even though Yuan Shiyuan was mentally prepared for the performance, his straight-man radar made him tilt his head away instinctively.
But his chin was held and turned back; he was forced to meet a pair of dark eyes.
“All done,” Jiang Heng said.
—All done? Then let go of his hand, will you? Addicted to touching faces? [eye roll]
—All done, now officially diagnosed jh pampering the stomach, delicious little round thing delivered to your door, refuse three times and you’ll still get it. [covering face]
Yuan Shiyuan stared at Jiang Heng and blinked in confusion.
Only then did Jiang Heng release his hand.
When Yuan Shiyuan stood to leave, Jiang Heng stood up too; Yuan Shiyuan was caught off guard and stumbled, pitching backward from the momentum. Jiang Heng reacted quickly and grabbed his hand, pulling him back.
They both tumbled onto the sofa.
By momentum, Yuan Shiyuan ended up kneeling on the sofa facing Jiang Heng, beside his legs. To prevent Yuan Shiyuan from falling, Jiang Heng’s hand supported his waist while the other hooked behind his thigh.
In a fully embracing posture, he held him captive in his arms.
Yuan Shiyuan bowed his head on Jiang Heng’s shoulder, his hands braced on Jiang Heng’s chest. He was quite shaken and remained on high alert.
Luckily there was a sofa and a human-shaped shield to cushion him—otherwise he’d have ended up flat on his back.
Jiang Heng was rigid all over.
His gaze tracked down Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder and neck line; under the room light he could clearly see the waist beneath his large hand and the legs exposed to the air.
So slim, so pale.
Yuan Shiyuan’s waist was really slender.
Flustered, Jiang Heng moved his eyes away and fixed them on a small figurine nearby.
Then, caught off guard, he thought again.
Such a thin waist.
“Sorry, I didn’t steady myself…” Yuan Shiyuan still hadn’t figured out whether he’d tripped on the carpet or on Jiang Heng’s foot.
But for a straight man like Yuan Shiyuan, this kind of physical contact still felt a bit forward.
He was just about to quickly climb off Jiang Heng when a resistance at his waist and the back of his legs prevented him from leaving.
He looked puzzled and was about to speak when he heard the sound of a card being swiped and footsteps at the door.
Moments later the door opened.
Ying Mingxi had returned.