The Five Heartless Scumbag Alphas Turned Against Each Other Because Of Me - Chapter 4
“You’re eighteen, an adult, and you’re calling me—someone who’s twenty-two—‘Mom’? Don’t you feel the slightest bit ashamed?”
Tan Hua’s emotions were in turmoil. For a moment, she couldn’t tell whether this was the distortion of human nature or the collapse of morality. Noticing that Wen Chuan was sensing something off and was looking at her with suspicion, the system quickly reminded her:
“Host, don’t forget—you’re currently acting as the fake mommy of that rebellious, arrogant brat Wen Chuan!”
“The substitute agreement you signed with Wen Chuan requires you to act like her mother—showing concern, care, and all the love a mother should give to her child.”
Tan Hua: “……” What kind of absurd plotline is this? Why is there always some wild twist coming out of nowhere?
When the system reminded her again that Wen Chuan had already transferred today’s payment, Tan Hua took a deep breath and forced a gentle, motherly smile. She affectionately patted Wen Chuan on the head.
“You’ve worked hard coming all the way here so late to pick up Mommy.”
Her unexpected touch made Wen Chuan freeze. Instinctively, she was about to push Tan Hua’s hand away. But the soft, delicate fingers brushing gently through her fine hair sent a strange and tender jolt through her body, making her pause. The sensation was unfamiliar, yet soothing.
It was… nice.
But just as Wen Chuan was beginning to enjoy the comforting touch, the realization struck her—it wasn’t Cheng Yuan who was being so kind to her, just Tan Hua. The sharp contrast between reality and her yearning sent a wave of pain crashing through her heart.
If only it were Sister Cheng Yuan, Wen Chuan thought stiffly.
If Cheng Yuan hadn’t gone abroad, she would’ve stayed by my side, kept me company, given me warmth, and helped me forget that cold and disgusting family. She was like an angel—gentle and kind.
Wen Chuan’s face began to reflect her inner turmoil and sense of loss.
Tan Hua didn’t need to think twice to know that this kid was probably thinking about the female lead again while using her as a stand-in. Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Tan Hua withdrew her hand.
“Let’s go. Time to head home.” But then she remembered she was on duty, so she quickly corrected herself:
“Or… would you rather not go home? Is there anywhere you’d like to go? I can take you.”
“Let’s go home.” Wen Chuan snapped out of it, casting Tan Hua a complicated glance before saying, with a hint of excitement, “I rented a new apartment recently. I moved out of my family’s place.”
“I want to show it to you, Mommy.”
Tan Hua didn’t mind. But hearing this tall, grown adult calling her “Mommy” every other sentence still made her feel incredibly awkward.
Still, one glance at the fresh 100,000 yuan deposit in her account made Tan Hua reconsider—maybe playing Wen Chuan’s fake mom wasn’t so bad after all.
After all, the pay was very generous.
Wen Chuan seemed to have buried her inner struggle and fully embraced the temporary warmth of this fake relationship. She shed her usual rebellious arrogance and behaved like an obedient little wolf dog in front of Tan Hua.
“My new place is near your house, Mommy.”
“You’re always working late and living alone. I worry about your safety,” Wen Chuan said, surprisingly considerate for someone her age. “So I thought, if I lived nearby, I could pick you up after school and walk you home. That way, I could protect you.”
“You’re a delicate Omega. If you ran into some bad people…” Wen Chuan paused, then added softly, “I’d be there to protect you.”
“I’m an adult now. I’m not weak and helpless like I used to be.”
Her voice grew quieter and quieter until it faded completely. It sounded like she and Cheng Yuan had some unpleasant history regarding age or protection, but Tan Hua wasn’t particularly interested. She simply smiled and said, “You’re doing great, Xiao Chuan.”
Her intention was to flatter the kid with a wave of compliments—get her so dizzy with praise that she wouldn’t even know which way was up. That way, Tan Hua’s job tonight would be much easier.
But to her surprise, Wen Chuan suddenly stopped in her tracks, furrowing her brows with an expression full of irritation.
“You shouldn’t say that.”
Tan Hua: “?”
“You should scold me,” Wen Chuan said, clearly annoyed. “You should say I’m childish, immature, always doing whatever I want without caring about my family or your feelings.”
“You should tell me off, Mommy. Tell me I’m always causing trouble and making you worry.” Her voice was low but deliberate, each word biting.
Tan Hua looked completely stunned: “???”
This feels like one of those weird subway memes…
Is this girl okay in the head?
She had never, in her entire life, met someone who asked to be scolded. Tan Hua couldn’t help but call up the system and tap her temple, asking:
“…Are you sure she’s mentally stable?”
Even the usually unflappable system, seasoned by years of watching Tan Hua survive all kinds of chaos, was momentarily speechless. It hesitated before replying:
“Probably?”
Afraid that the host would start a full investigation into Wen Chuan’s mental health, the system quickly tried to change the narrative.
“Hey, if Wen Chuan is a little messed up, isn’t that even better? You can manipulate her with just a few words!”
“Less hassle!”
Well, there was some truth to that… Tan Hua glanced at Wen Chuan’s angry, youthful face, which was now flushed from her supposed “neglect,” and raised a brow.
“All right, fine.”
Compared to someone like Lu Huaixu, a rational, restrained Alpha, this freshly-adult little idiot was much easier to handle.
Tan Hua decided to play along.
Her expression turned cold, and her delicate features instantly took on a frosty edge.
“Wen Chuan, when are you going to grow up? Can you please stop being so unreasonable all the time?”
The girl’s dark pupils gleamed in the night like pools of ink—deep, unfathomable, and brimming with unspoken emotion.
Her emotionless expression made Wen Chuan feel a strange sense of unfamiliarity—yet, also an inexplicable satisfaction. Although Tan Hua was an Omega, when she got angry, her presence was no less imposing than that of an Alpha. Wen Chuan, chastised by her words, instinctively clenched her hands in front of her and lowered her head.
“…I’m sorry. I was just… worried about you…”
“Worried about me?” Tan Hua slowly stepped closer, her tone icy. “Were you really worried, or were you just using me as an excuse?”
She lifted her face slightly. Her features, even when cold and stern, were breathtaking. But Wen Chuan had no room to appreciate that beauty—her heart was racing, and under Tan Hua’s calm but piercing interrogation, her nerves tightened uncontrollably.
“Wen Chuan,” Tan Hua pressed her lips together, voice low but sharp. “You’ve really disappointed me.”
The words struck hard.
Wen Chuan felt like her already tense heart had suddenly plunged into an icy abyss. A chill swept over her, draining all color from her face, and even her fingertips began to tremble uncontrollably.
Panic set in.
She instinctively reached out, trying to grab hold of Tan Hua, hoping to plead for forgiveness with a bit of spoiled charm. But Tan Hua had already anticipated the move and easily dodged her hand.
“Don’t touch me.”
Turning her back to Wen Chuan, she took a deep breath.
“I don’t want to look at you right now.”
The light in Wen Chuan’s eyes dimmed in an instant. She stood there like a helpless, pitiful stray dog, silently watching Tan Hua’s slender, graceful figure move farther away—unmoving, afraid to follow, yet unwilling to let her go.
She was so beautiful. She was right there—so close, and yet… she felt like a parallel line: destined never to intersect with Wen Chuan’s life.
That realization hurt like a knife to the heart. Even breathing stung.
“…Mom,” Wen Chuan called out softly. Her voice was nothing like the arrogant and unruly tone from before. Now, she sounded fragile, lost.
If Tan Hua hadn’t had such strong self-control, her maternal instincts might have burst out on the spot.
“Don’t call me that,” Tan Hua snapped, cutting off the plea coldly without sparing her a glance. She followed the system’s guidance and walked straight in the direction of home.
Wen Chuan stood frozen for a moment, staring blankly at Tan Hua’s retreating figure. After a long, hesitant pause, she finally followed—keeping a timid, careful distance. Not too close, not too far.
Along the way, Wen Chuan trailed behind like an oversized puppy, always staying within two meters of Tan Hua.
Tan Hua grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds and started chatting idly with the system.
“Why does it feel like she’s forcing herself into the role of my bodyguard?”
The system paused.
“Uh… maybe this is just one of Wen Chuan’s… special interests?” It sounded like it was struggling to come up with an explanation. “Whatever—if everyone’s safe, happy, and peaceful, isn’t that good enough?”
Tan Hua paused mid-bite, narrowing her eyes slightly.
“You’ve changed a lot lately, little System. What’s the deal? Had an epiphany or something?”
The system fell silent.
What epiphany? It was either adapt or get wiped back to factory settings.
They say when you marry a chicken, follow the chicken; marry a dog, follow the dog. Having ended up with a host like Tan Hua, what choice did it have? Mimicking her shameless tone, it replied:
“Absolutely! It’s my honor to roam the world at your side, Host!”
Tan Hua: “……”
She tossed the sunflower seeds away.
Great. Now another one’s gone mad.
Wen Chuan, still watching Tan Hua closely, noticed her frown slightly—as if irritated—and immediately froze in her tracks. She thought maybe she’d gotten too close, and that’s what annoyed her.
Tan Hua, catching the reaction from the corner of her eye, couldn’t help but shake her head.
So young, and already gaslighting herself this deep?
Hopeless.
She withdrew her gaze, choosing not to pay Wen Chuan any more attention. Boarding the slowly arriving bus, she headed straight to the back row and took a seat.
When the bus reached its stop, Tan Hua stepped off and found herself standing in front of a rundown, foul-smelling urban village.
She froze.
Under the murky night, the pitch-black alley resembled the bloody, gaping maw of a beast—ready to swallow anyone whole, leaving not even bones behind.
Tan Hua wasn’t afraid of the dark. What surprised her was just how appallingly bad the original host’s living conditions were.
As soon as she stopped walking, Wen Chuan also came to a sudden halt, not daring to move forward. She lifted a foot slightly, summoning the courage to step up and offer to walk Tan Hua home together—but before she could act, she saw Tan Hua straighten her back and, without hesitation, march right into the darkness.
The girl’s slender figure vanished into the shadows in the blink of an eye. Panic rose in Wen Chuan’s chest. She immediately rushed after her, afraid something might happen while she was out of sight.
Tan Hua walked steadily—completely unafraid.
Wen Chuan wanted to call out to her, to say that she was nothing like Sister Cheng Yuan right now. But then a sudden thought struck her—
What if she’s only pretending to be calm?
What if she’s too proud to ask for company?
Everyone knew Omegas tended to be timid—Tan Hua probably wasn’t an exception.
That thought made a smile creep onto Wen Chuan’s usually cold and sharp features. She quickened her pace, deciding to take the initiative and make peace.
“Mom.”
Her voice rang out suddenly, startling Tan Hua.
Tan Hua really wished Wen Chuan would change the way she addressed her. Would it kill her to say “Sister” instead? Why insist on “Mom”? If Cheng Yuan ever found out that Wen Chuan had projected a lovely young girl like her into the role of her mother, she’d probably cough up bl00d on the spot.
“Mom, wait up. I’ll walk with you,” Wen Chuan said as she caught up with her, reaching out to grab Tan Hua’s hand. But Tan Hua wasn’t going to make it that easy—she instantly pulled her hand back.
Wen Chuan’s breath caught in her throat. Then, her demeanor shifted, growing more assertive.
“Mom.”
Alphas had strength and endurance on their side. It took no effort at all for her to catch Tan Hua’s slender wrist. It was so delicate—so fragile—that it felt like it could snap with the slightest twist.
A strange emotion flickered through Wen Chuan’s heart—quick, fleeting, and unidentifiable.
She didn’t dwell on it. Once she had a firm grip on Tan Hua, Wen Chuan lowered her head slightly. Her fair skin almost blended into the darkness. It looked like she was smiling, but the undertone was subtly threatening.
“At a time like this, don’t be disobedient.”
“Okay?”