After the Scumbag Alpha Accidentally Marked the Blackened Villain - Chapter 25.1

The once-dark wardrobe was now fully exposed under the glaring lights. Whether it was the dazed Xiao Guai inside or Lin Bie, frozen in place as she stared at Lin Qingsi, the brightness swept through and pierced straight into Lin Bie’s eyes.

Lin Qingsi hadn’t expected anyone to be inside the wardrobe—let alone Lin Bie.

She stood there in shock, eyes fixed on her younger sister clad only in a bathrobe. Lin Bie’s neck, raised in surprise, bore unmistakable marks—deep red kiss prints and bite marks.

Lin Qingsi’s hands, hanging loosely by her sides, suddenly clenched into fists.

“President Lin, what’s wrong? Is Little Guai being naughty?” a staff member called from a short distance away, noticing her standing motionless with a stormy expression.

The wardrobe door had been left open, angled just right so that the cameras couldn’t capture what was inside. Someone had already gotten up to take a closer look.

Lin Qingsi snapped out of her daze and quickly shook her head at them. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t expect a Maine Coon to be this big.” She turned her gaze slightly, letting it linger coldly on Lin Bie, who lowered her head guiltily.

Lin Qingsi bent down and took the oversized cat from Lin Bie’s arms, closing the wardrobe door in the same motion. Cradling the cat, she walked it back to the filming area, glancing briefly at Leng Jinxi as their eyes met.

Leng Jinxi’s expression remained gentle, as if completely unaware that anyone had been hiding in the wardrobe. Lin Qingsi lowered her gaze, set Xiao Guai down without a word.

The moment Xiao Guai spotted Leng Jinxi, she shook herself out and ran over, wrapping her giant paws around her master’s leg before flopping to the floor to beg for affection.

She seemed to be saying, Why did you lock me up, master? Xiao Guai is so aggrieved. QAQ

Everyone burst out in coos and laughter at the adorable sight. Leng Jinxi bent down to scoop Xiao Guai into her arms, and the cat affectionately licked her hand. Everyone was completely absorbed in playing with the cat—everyone except Lin Qingsi, who stood in silence.

Inside the wardrobe, Lin Bie had also heard the delighted chatter outside. Still frozen in the same position she’d been caught in, she felt shame wash over her like a flood. She couldn’t move.

She was so mortified her scalp tingled. She just wanted to dig a hole and disappear. How could something so cliché—like being discovered hiding in a wardrobe—actually happen to her?

There wasn’t even a cat left beside her anymore to make her feel at ease. Instead, the sense of dread and anxiety in her chest was worse than ever.

Why was it Lin Qingsi who opened the wardrobe?

Why did she show up here so suddenly?

Where was Leng Jinxi? Shouldn’t she have been the one to open the door?

Or worse… had Leng Jinxi seen Lin Qingsi approaching and intentionally said nothing?

Panicked, Lin Bie fumbled in her pocket and pulled out her phone. The screen lit up with a string of unread messages from Lin Qingsi, sent twenty minutes earlier:

Lin Qingsi: [Forget it, I got off work early. I’ll come pick you up at the set.]

[I’m here. Where are you? Why aren’t you replying?]

[Fine, I’m going in. Text me when you see this.]

The messages shone blindingly on the screen, and Lin Bie slapped her forehead in regret. Why hadn’t she checked her phone earlier?!

Her heart pounded with unease. According to her plan, she’d been slowly earning Lin Qingsi’s favor through steady, visible improvement. But now here she was—disheveled, half-naked, with hickeys and bite marks from Leng Jinxi on her neck, hiding in a wardrobe like some kind of daytime pervert.

There’s no way I’m seeing the sun tomorrow, Lin Bie thought grimly.

The embarrassment wasn’t just because she’d been caught—it was because the one who caught her was one of her primary targets. From the look Lin Qingsi gave her after picking up the cat, Lin Bie felt a cold wave wash over her. Even if she jumped into the Yellow River, she couldn’t wash this clean.

From just beyond the wardrobe door, she could hear everyone laughing and playing with the cat. The cheerful atmosphere only made the pit of dread in her stomach deepen.

She hugged her knees tightly, resting her head on them as she sat inside the wardrobe, waiting in despair for the interview to end.

Even the faint scent of camellias in the enclosed space couldn’t soothe her now.

“Alright, that wraps up our interview. Thank you, Miss Leng Jinxi—and thank you, Xiao Guai!”

The host’s voice filtered in through the cracks in the wardrobe. Lin Bie lifted her head and listened quietly to the departing footsteps. Her mind spun: How do I face Leng Jinxi?

How do I explain myself to Lin Qingsi?

This was social death. But she couldn’t just die and get it over with—she had to find some way to salvage her image.

As the noisy conversations and footsteps faded from the dressing room, she leaned against the wardrobe door, listening to the sound of Xiao Guai purring in her owner’s arms. She quickly fixed her disheveled clothes and tightened her robe.

Just as she reached for the wardrobe door, it opened on its own. Bright light flooded in, blinding her momentarily. When her eyes adjusted, Leng Jinxi stood before her, backlit by the sun.

She looked ethereal, her hair gently tousled, her expression unreadable in the light. But Lin Bie could feel her gaze sweep over her—from the top of her head to the bite mark on her neck.

Feeling guilty, Lin Bie quickly dropped her gaze and nervously fiddled with her hands.

“Come out,” Leng Jinxi said calmly, stepping aside. “Everyone’s gone. Still sitting in there—aren’t you cramped?”

“…Okay.” Lin Bie’s voice was small, almost squeezed out of her throat.

Leng Jinxi smiled slightly at how pitiful she looked and couldn’t help but tease, “It’s just Lin Qingsi who saw you. The cameras didn’t catch anything.”

But that only made Lin Bie feel worse. Why even rank types of humiliation?

She forced a smile. “It’s all Xiao Guai’s fault.” Her eyes darted toward the cat lounging on the sofa, lazily licking its fur—and felt an inexplicable wave of anger.

You little traitor. I got caught, and you’re here chilling like nothing happened. Today, unless I smother you with cuddles, I’m not called Lin!

She lunged and scooped up Xiao Guai before the cat could escape, burying her face into the soft, freshly-groomed belly.

“You naughty little furball,” she muttered, voice muffled. “Why were you meowing like that for no reason? Now I’ve lost all face in front of my sister. You better make it up to me.”

She refused to let go even as Xiao Guai tried to squirm free, gripping its big paws and giving them a good squish.

Leng Jinxi watched the scene, sighed with a trace of helplessness, and turned to fetch a few pieces of clothing from the wardrobe.

“Your clothes are a mess. Here—put these on,” she said, placing them on the table before folding her arms. Her gaze met Xiao Guai’s tearful, defeated expression and softened.

“Okay, enough. Don’t bully Xiao Guai.”

Lin Bie froze mid-snuggle. Oh great, now the cat has backup.

With one last, vengeful snuggle into the cat’s belly, she finally let go. Xiao Guai, known for being obsessively clean, didn’t even stop to groom—just bolted to the farthest corner, clearly terrified of more affection.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Lin Bie glanced at the clothes on the table and finally noticed something—Lin Qingsi wasn’t in the room anymore.

She picked up her phone and saw a new message:

Lin Qingsi: [Waiting outside.]

Her heart jumped. Even her fingertips trembled. She already knew how impossible it would be to explain herself.

Just when she had finally built up some kind of positive image… it had all come crashing down again.

With a hollow expression, Lin Bie looked up. “Can I borrow your foundation?”

At the very least, she needed to go out looking human.

Leng Jinxi’s eyes instantly flicked to the bite mark she’d left on Lin Bie’s neck. The skin was still flushed, the imprint stark. She chuckled softly, amusement twinkling in her eyes, and her voice became unusually gentle.

“I’ll get it for you.”

________________________________________

As Lin Bie stepped out of the dressing room, the sunlight felt surreal—like she’d lived a whole lifetime inside.

She sent a message to Lin Qingsi, who responded quickly:

[Waiting outside.]

It was still chilly for a spring afternoon. A gust of wind blew past, and Lin Bie tightened the coat Leng Jinxi had loaned her.

“System,” she whispered, “show me Lin Qingsi’s current favorability score.”

She was still worried—worried that this whole mess had lowered Lin Qingsi’s impression of her. That would’ve made everything truly pointless.

[Of course, Host. Checking now…]

[Mission Target No. 1’s favorability score has not changed. It remains at -10. Please continue your efforts.]

Lin Bie let out a huge sigh of relief.

No gain, no loss. That, honestly, was the best thing to happen all day. She was so happy she could cry.

No wonder Lin Qingsi’s the cold-blooded CEO of a major corporation.

Something this trivial wouldn’t even ruffle her feathers.

Feeling slightly better, Lin Bie asked about Su Nian’s score. The answer came quickly: 15% favorability—not great, but not hopeless either.

Emboldened, Lin Bie pushed her luck. “Then… can you check Leng Jinxi’s blackening value?”

But this time, the system’s tone turned colder:

[That’s not something the Host should concern herself with. Focus on your mission, please.]

It sounded unusually stern.

“…Got it. Translation: you can’t do it.”

[……]

“According to task selection, the host has chosen Mission One, which is unrelated to Leng Jinxi’s corruption level. As such, all corresponding system functions for tracking her blackening value have also been disabled. The help I provided last time was only possible because I sought special approval from higher authorities. This time, the system truly cannot intervene.”

The AI, having been exposed, had no corresponding emotion module. It simply stated the facts plainly.

Lin Bie sighed, disappointment thick in her tone. “Alright then.”

System: …Why does it feel like I’ve just been looked down upon?

“Although I can’t provide more clues at the moment, I can still offer a small reminder.”

Lin Bie raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“According to the plot of the original novel, your current choices have already caused deviations in the storyline. You know the butterfly effect, right? When a butterfly flaps its wings, it may trigger an unexpected tornado. The plot trajectory is now beyond system prediction. So don’t place too much importance on the ‘original’ storyline.”

“Also, mission progress has currently stalled. If you continue staying around the villain and that leads to further delays or deviations, it may trigger the system’s built-in correction protocol.”

“Correction protocol?” Lin Bie frowned. “You never mentioned that before.”

“The correction protocol exists to prevent the host or mission from veering too far off track. If the host refuses to perform tasks or interferes with task execution, the system will automatically initiate correction.

The outcomes, however, are usually… undesirable. I strongly advise you not to trigger it.”

“Undesirable how?” Lin Bie asked, her brow furrowing deeper. “Be specific.”

System: “…I don’t know the exact outcome either. Each mission’s punishment mechanism is unique. There was a previous host who was running a ‘villainous supporting female lead’ system. Her task was to push the female lead into a river. But midway through, she had a change of heart and triggered the correction protocol. The result? She ended up jumping in herself, got tangled in underwater weeds, and almost drowned.”