After Becoming the Live-in Scummy Alpha, I Pamper Her with Real Strength - Chapter 1
The host stood under dazzling stage lights, announcing the nominees for Best Actress at this year’s Hundred Flowers Awards. There were three contenders—each a reigning queen in the entertainment industry, blessed with both talent and beauty. As the camera panned across the nominees, they smiled gracefully for the public eye.
“This year’s competition for Best Actress is fierce. ‘A battle of the goddesses’ wouldn’t be an exaggeration,” the host teased, drawing out the suspense. He already held the results in hand. “Each nominee’s acting prowess is undeniable, so no matter who takes the prize tonight, the nomination itself is already a mark of excellence.”
“And now, the Best Actress Award goes to—He Song!”
Thunderous applause erupted as every camera turned to focus on the woman in the violet gown. She was stunning—her amber eyes sparkled like starlight, and her fair, luminous skin seemed to glow under the lights. Instead of bursting into tears or gasping in disbelief, she simply rose to her feet with a serene smile and made her way to the stage.
Over the past decade, He Song’s career had been paved with both thorns and laurels. She had clawed her way to the top, winning numerous awards, and her performance as Mai He in Lost Paths had once again proven her unmatched talent.
She had grown from a girl once mocked online into a calm, graceful film queen—her journey no less remarkable than the résumé on paper.
Standing on a familiar stage, He Song shared heartfelt stories from filming with warmth and poise, drawing the audience into her words. But just as her speech reached a steady rhythm—suddenly, her voice cut off.
Everyone stared.
She was swaying.
And then—collapsing.
What’s happening?
He Song didn’t know either. The stage lights seemed especially blinding tonight, so much so that she couldn’t see the crowd. Her consciousness blurred, spiraling. As she fell and closed her eyes, her last thought was oddly mundane:
Did I forget to feed Tangyuan this morning?
Her body burned like it was on fire. A sharp pain throbbed at the back of her neck. She felt trapped in a sack, heavy-limbed and barely lucid. But with sheer willpower, she finally forced herself awake.
She opened her eyes to ornate maroon carpet, crisp white sheets, and the soft glow of a hotel lamp.
“…Ow.”
A searing ache pulsed at the back of her head. When she reached up to touch it, she found a large lump. She hissed through clenched teeth.
What the hell had happened?
She slowly sat up—then froze.
She was completely naked.
Wait—wasn’t she just on stage? Where was she now?
More importantly—
Her gaze shifted downward.
Lying beside her was a woman with flowing black hair splayed across the pillow, a pale, slender back, elegant shoulder blades faintly visible. Her head was tucked beneath an arm—face hidden—but He Song immediately had a gut instinct: This woman is stunning.
…This had all the hallmarks of one thing: drunk hookup.
He Song reached out and lightly poked the woman’s back. Smooth, soft—exactly what she expected. But the moment her fingers touched skin, a flood of fragmented, chaotic memories slammed into her like a wave.
She gasped.
Memories that didn’t belong to her. A name echoed in her mind: Jiang Weiran.
Why did that name sound so familiar?
Wait a minute. Jiang Weiran… wasn’t that a character in the drama script she’d read recently? A scheming villainess Alpha in an ABO yuri adaptation of the novel Burned by Wrong Love?
She remembered clearly—because the character was such an irredeemable jerk.
The story centered on Mo Qingran, a once-pampered heiress who lost everything at 15 after her parents’ sudden death. Her greedy relatives fought over the family fortune, forcing her to grow up overnight while juggling school and corporate affairs.
To make matters worse, her second aunt secretly submitted Mo Qingran’s genetic data to the national matchmaker system, pairing her—without her knowledge—with a high-compatibility Alpha.
In theory, the system enforced “practical marriages” between Alphas and Omegas. In reality, it was mostly used by desperate people who just wanted to marry anyone and get it over with.
Mo Qingran’s match? Jiang Weiran—95% compatible, but a manipulative scumbag.
The worst part? Mo Qingran hadn’t even consented. Under the law, however, a marked Omega had no choice but to marry the one who marked her. The only way to escape? Surgical removal of the gland—an extremely painful and traumatic process, often leaving lifelong scars.
Jiang Weiran, seeing Mo Qingran’s resemblance to her old flame, plotted with the aunt to trap her into a forced marriage. The plan? Drug her and forcibly mark her.
But when the real Jiang Weiran tried that, Mo Qingran woke up mid-act, kicked her off the bed, and Jiang Weiran hit her head—hard—against the nightstand.
Now, the original scum had blacked out…
And He Song had woken up in her place.
Unbelievable.
Of all people to transmigrate into, why the idiotic, cruel, bottom-feeder Alpha?!
And she knew how the story ended: Mo Qingran would exact brutal revenge. She’d send Jiang Weiran to a mental institution, and when the woman finally broke down for real, Mo Qingran would “accidentally” arrange for her to be paralyzed, living the rest of her life in a wheelchair.
All of it started… right here, right now.
He Song glanced nervously at Mo Qingran’s neck. No gland bite. No mark.
She exhaled.
If the original Jiang Weiran had woken first, things would’ve gone much worse.
After the marking in the original story, Jiang Weiran married Mo Qingran and grew even more unhinged—alcoholic, abusive, serial cheater, and emotionally manipulative. Mo Qingran refused all demands for intimacy. It made sense—who could ever love a rapist?
But Jiang Weiran, blinded by entitlement, believed her Omega wife should grovel at her feet.
Eventually, she tried to force herself on Mo Qingran again—only to injure her so badly that her gland was destroyed beyond repair.
From then on, Jiang Weiran lost interest. No gland, no use. She treated Mo Qingran like a stranger, flaunting new lovers in her face.
The first half of the story was pure suffering.
He Song had hated the character so much she nearly tore up the script.
Her agent had said, “Didn’t you say you wanted a real villain? Jiang Weiran’s your perfect challenge.”
Fine. But not like this.
She hadn’t even earned enough for that luxury seaside villa yet!
And then—Mo Qingran stirred beside her.
He Song stiffened.
What now?
Mo Qingran blinked open her eyes, groggy and disoriented. Her delicate face turned slightly toward the naked, panicking Jiang Weiran.
And then her memory returned.
Her gaze turned cold.
One word, spat like ice:
“Get. Out.”
Author’s Note:
He Song: My wife just glared at me… I’m kinda panicking…