After Becoming a Scummy Alpha, I Became a Slave to My Beloved Wife (GL) - Chapter 5

Jiang Nian had a classmate who owned an entertainment company, and as it happened, the diva causing all the drama was one of their signed artists. One phone call later, the diva’s manager rushed to the venue in person, grabbed Qiao Wenyu’s hand, and bowed repeatedly in apology.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Qiao. We didn’t know you had a connection with President Jiang. Please, could you say a few kind words to her for us?” the manager said, his face filled with forced smiles and nervous sincerity.

Up until that moment, some staff still hadn’t known about the relationship between Qiao Wenyu and Jiang Nian. After this dramatic scene, many onlookers came to the wrong conclusion—assuming Qiao Wenyu was a pampered little star Jiang Nian was secretly keeping.

After all, no one could imagine that a seemingly ordinary girl like Qiao Wenyu could actually be married to someone like Jiang Nian.

Once the venue dispute was resolved, Qiao Wenyu was finally able to go on stage.

Jiang Nian walked over to her, offering encouragement. “You’ve got this. I’ll be in the front row watching you.”

“…Thank you. For everything today,” Qiao Wenyu replied with a gentle smile before heading backstage with her assistant.

With everything settled, Jiang Nian hurried back to her seat.

Seeing she’d been gone a while, Xu Mian asked with concern, “President Jiang, were you not feeling well? You were in the restroom for so long.”

“I was helping someone,” Jiang Nian said offhandedly, eyes fixed on the stage. She was focused now—eager for the show to begin.

But the opening time had long passed. The delay made the audience restless. Some began shouting for refunds, and the mood in the venue was turning tense.

Fortunately, the emcee came onstage in time to calm the crowd and restore order.

As the show was about to begin, Jiang Nian sat up straighter, eyes glued to the stage. She’d left in such a rush earlier, she hadn’t even gotten a proper look at Qiao Wenyu.

Suddenly, the lights flared. On stage stood Qiao Wenyu and Tong Yunyao, both smiling brightly under the spotlight.

The fan support section lit up. Fans raised glowing signs and shouted in unison:

“Cloud Wings Soars! Wenyao Supreme! TQ Brave Flight—We’re Always With You!”

Jiang Nian was swept up by the energy and turned around to see a sea of neon lights waving in support.

She stared for a moment, then asked Xu Mian, “What do you think of their fan group?”

“They’re very enthusiastic. For a newly debuted group like TQ, having this many fans with lightboards means their popularity is decent,” Xu Mian said honestly.

Jiang Nian rubbed her chin thoughtfully. After a moment, she asked again, “What kind of fan support makes the biggest impression?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Xu Mian replied, pressing a finger to her cheek in thought. “But I once saw someone hire a helicopter for a fan project.”

As soon as she said that, she glanced over and saw Jiang Nian fiddling with her phone. Though she couldn’t make out the chat messages clearly, she did catch glimpses of words like “helicopter” and “skyscraper.”

Just then, the music started playing, and Xu Mian’s attention was drawn back to the performance. She stopped paying attention to what Jiang Nian was doing.

Jiang Nian, having sent out a few messages to some contacts, looked up just in time for Qiao Wenyu’s solo.

She listened carefully—and immediately noticed something was wrong.

She hadn’t paid much attention during the earlier duet, but now, in Qiao Wenyu’s solo, her volume seemed off… and it didn’t sound like she was singing live.

On stage, Qiao Wenyu had also realized something was wrong. Her mic and earpiece weren’t working. What the audience heard was her pre-recorded studio track.

Murmurs began spreading through the crowd. People were whispering about the oddity of Qiao Wenyu’s part.

A few people near Jiang Nian were clearly upset.

“She’s totally lip-syncing! This Qiao Wenyu doesn’t even match the track!” someone scoffed, stomping her heel in frustration.

Another echoed her, “Seriously. Even Tong Yunyao’s live vocals sound better than Qiao Wenyu’s recording. The skill gap in this group is huge—they’re bound to break up soon.”

“I’m so pissed—I’m tweeting this!”

“Do it! Someone who lip-syncs right out of the gate doesn’t deserve to be an idol. Her styling’s not even half as good as my Yunyao!”

Hearing all this, Jiang Nian felt a deep discomfort settle in her chest.

Backstage, clearly, no one had stepped in to fix the equipment. The show was well underway, and still no staff had swapped the mic or explained the issue.

During intermission, the audience’s mood had already soured.

Right then, the support team Jiang Nian had contacted made their grand entrance.

A helicopter circled the venue overhead, flashing LED lights that spelled out TQ, while petals rained down from above.

The previously grumbling crowd erupted in excitement, pulling out their phones to snap photos and record videos.

At the same time, the lights from three skyscrapers near the venue lit up. Animated light strips formed a dynamic display—showcasing a looping video of TQ’s daily rehearsals.

Everyone in the venue was stunned. People turned to capture the scene on video, cheering in amazement.

Xu Mian, eyes wide, finally turned to Jiang Nian and asked, “President Jiang… you arranged all this? Was it for Tong Yunyao? Are you, her fan?”

“No,” Jiang Nian said simply. “It’s for Wenyu.”

The support display ended just as the second half of the show was about to begin. The host came back on stage to introduce the rest of the program lineup.

The host stepped back onto the stage with a polite smile.
“That concludes the earlier portion of the performance. Unfortunately, we must inform everyone that Miss Qiao Wenyu is feeling unwell. The remaining songs will be performed solo by Miss Tong Yunyao.”

After a brief bow, the host left the stage.

Upbeat music resumed—but now only one performer remained.

Jiang Nian had lost all interest in watching. She immediately left Xu Mian behind and rushed backstage—only to find Qiao Wenyu already gone. A staff member told her that Qiao had left in the company van without stopping to speak to anyone.

Worried, Jiang Nian sped home, only to find the house empty as well.

It wasn’t until midnight, just as Jiang Nian was dozing off on the sofa, that Qiao Wenyu finally returned.

She looked pale and drained, still in her performance outfit. Gone was the radiant girl who had stood under the spotlight hours before.

“Jie, are you okay? What happened?” Jiang Nian shot up, suddenly wide awake and rushing toward her.

Startled to see someone in the darkened room, Qiao Wenyu shrank back slightly like a frightened bird. “I just… want to be alone right now,” she said softly.

“I—” Jiang Nian tried to say something comforting, but Qiao Wenyu had already slipped into her room and shut the door firmly behind her.

Jiang Nian let out a quiet sigh.

In the days that followed, the performance scandal exploded online. The concert incident surged into the top three trending searches, and stayed there for hours.

The moment Jiang Nian found out Qiao Wenyu was being dragged through the mud, she immediately called in favors and paid to have the trending posts removed.

But removing the hashtags wasn’t enough. The internet was relentless, and trolls kept spreading nasty rumors. They accused Qiao Wenyu of relying on a sugar daddy to debut, claiming she had no talent and only pretended to be a singing-dancing all-rounder.

Reading the comments, Jiang Nian was so angry she crushed a teacup in her hand—startling her secretary, Lu Renbing.

“President Jiang… is everything okay? Are you… not going to the board meeting?” he asked nervously.

Jiang Nian pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to calm herself. “I’m going. But monitor the trending topics about Qiao Wenyu. Once this meeting ends, I don’t want to see any more slander.”

“Understood, President Jiang.” Lu Renbing adjusted his glasses and hurried off.

Jiang Nian gathered her meeting documents and went to the conference room, though her mind was clearly elsewhere.

If it weren’t for the board meeting, she wouldn’t have come to the company at all. She would’ve rather stayed home—comforting Qiao Wenyu, helping her heal, and investigating what really happened that night.

Because from every angle, this didn’t look like an accident.

She was lost in thought and didn’t notice the person in front of her until she bumped into them.

“Sorry.” She rubbed her forehead, not yet looking up.

A scoffing voice answered coldly.

“You can’t even walk properly?” sneered the woman in front of her.

Jiang Nian looked up and recognized her instantly. “Mother?”

After transmigrating into the novel, she didn’t know much about the relationships between characters, but she had memorized names and faces. She could recognize this woman as her mother—Jiang Xian.

Though no longer young, Jiang Xian carried herself with poise and elegance. Her features were striking, easily captivating to any Omega. She shared similar looks with Jiang Nian, but her presence was even more formidable.

“Hmph.” Jiang Xian shot her daughter a look of cool disdain and walked into the boardroom without another word.

During the meeting, Jiang Nian became even more aware of how strained their relationship was. It was less like mother and daughter and more like superior and subordinate—cold, distant, transactional.

Every time Jiang Xian looked at her, it felt like she was searching through her—as if seeing someone else entirely.

Jiang Nian broke into a nervous sweat under her mother’s icy gaze.

Back in her own world, she had been raised by her grandmother. She had never even met her parents. Now, having suddenly gained a mother after transmigrating, she was startled to find that this woman was nothing like a warm, loving maternal figure.

When the meeting finally ended, Jiang Nian wanted to leave immediately and get back to handling the Qiao Wenyu situation. But Jiang Xian stopped her before she could escape.

Expression stern, Jiang Xian wasted no time.

“How’s it going with Wenyu?”

Jiang Nian blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected her mother’s first concern to be about Qiao Wenyu.

“…Pretty good,” she answered, going along with what she assumed her mother wanted to hear.

“You think I’ll believe that?” Jiang Xian scoffed. “Don’t assume I don’t know what you’ve been up to. You’re a Jiang. Don’t disgrace the family.”

After a sharp reprimand, she eased her tone slightly. “There’s a family banquet tomorrow. Bring Wenyu home. It’s time I met her.”

Before Jiang Nian could respond, Jiang Xian turned and left—her words more of a command than a request. There was no room for discussion.

Jiang Nian’s headache returned full force. She hadn’t even calmed Qiao Wenyu down yet. If her mood was still fragile, there was no way she’d want to attend some stiff, awkward family gathering.

She rushed back to her office.

Before she even stepped inside, she called out, “Did all the trending posts about Wenyu get taken down?”

Lu Renbing pushed up his glasses, finally able to relax. “Yes, President Jiang. Everything’s been handled.”