After the Scumbag Alpha Accidentally Marked the Blackened Villain - Chapter 27

The call connected quickly. Before the person on the other end could even speak, Shan Yi burst out, her voice high with desperation.

“Gu Ban, I knew you’d pick up. Listen to me—we’re in this mess together. You have to help me!”

Her voice was raw and ragged, carrying both fury and final hope. She was clearly prepared to stop at nothing.

But to her surprise, Gu Ban—who had always spoken with a temper and hated being bossed around—responded in a calm, detached tone.

“Help you? And how exactly do you expect me to do that?”

Shan Yi felt a surge of triumph and quickly jumped in:

“Give me some money. I’ll hire someone to dig up evidence of Lin Bie’s affairs—something to prove she’s not so innocent.” She clutched her phone tightly, her fingers straining so hard they turned white.

“She found dirt on me—what, you think I can’t find hers? She ruined me. There’s no way I’ll let her live happily ever after.”

Shan Yi believed she and Gu Ban were the same kind of person. Ever since Lin Bie started putting on that fake act, claiming she’d “changed,” Gu Ban had approached her, and they’d hit it off immediately. They both shared the same hate—for Lin Bie and for Leng Jinxi. In fact, this whole revenge scheme had been crafted with Gu Ban’s help.

At the time, Shan Yi had asked her, “Why are you helping me go after Lin Bie?”

Gu Ban had let out a cold laugh, her eyes gleaming with malice.

“Because Lin Bie stole my fiancée. And I’ll never forgive her for that.”

That’s why, now that things were falling apart, Shan Yi felt Gu Ban couldn’t afford to back out. After all, she knew exactly what Gu Ban had done to get revenge.

With that certainty in mind, some of the rage and restlessness inside her finally eased. Her life, her career—everything had been destroyed by Lin Bie. Even if she really had to flee the country tonight, she would not leave without causing trouble for Lin Bie and Leng Jinxi.

There was silence on the other end. Shan Yi, assuming Gu Ban was thinking of a plan, waited with heavy, excited breaths.

But then Gu Ban let out a laugh—a cold, mocking sound that sliced through the air like ice.

“Shan Yi, what makes you think I’ll help you go after Lin Bie? What do you even have to offer me that’s worth taking such a risk?”

Her words were sharp and direct, cutting to the bone. Shan Yi’s face froze mid-smile. The excitement drained from her in an instant, replaced by shock and fury.

“What the hell do you mean?! Wasn’t it your idea to trap Lin Bie and Leng Jinxi in that supply room? And now you want to act like you’re some innocent white lotus? Don’t pretend you didn’t go after Lin Bie!”

She was shouting now, her voice cracking with hysteria. For the first time, she truly understood the meaning of betrayal.

“This plan was yours too! I just carried it out! Now that Lin Bie’s turned the tables, you want to cut ties and wash your hands of everything? Gu Ban, you’re disgusting!”

“You think I don’t know what you did? You drugged Leng Jinxi at that party, made her allergic reaction flare up. Lin Bie adores that fiancée of hers. You really think she’ll let you go if she finds out what you did?

She’ll destroy you worse than she destroyed me!”

“I’m telling you—work with me. While their guard is still down, leak the dirt. If I go down, you’re coming with me.”

Despite her rage, Shan Yi’s reason began to return. She was starting to suspect Gu Ban truly didn’t want to help. In a last-ditch effort, she brought up the incident at the party.

Luckily, after Lin Bie’s bizarre confrontation with her that night, she had the sense to investigate. She’d uncovered that someone had laced Leng Jinxi’s drink with mango juice—knowing full well she was allergic.

And who else but Gu Ban, the jilted ex-fiancée, would hate her enough to do that?

Sure enough, after Shan Yi brought it up, Gu Ban went dead silent on the other end. The line was quiet for so long that Shan Yi’s heart began to pound.

Then Gu Ban’s voice came through, icy and venomous.

“So… not entirely stupid after all. You actually investigated me. But tell me—was that a threat?”

“It’s not a threat,” Shan Yi forced herself to say, taking deep breaths to tamp down her panic. “It’s just that Lin Bie pushed too far. Think about it—if she finds out you were the one who spiked Leng Jinxi’s drink, do you really think she’ll let you off, especially after how she retaliated against me today?”

“You really think Lin Bie doesn’t already know?” Gu Ban said coldly.

Truth was, she knew she’d been exposed the moment Lin Bie had snatched the phone out of Wang You’s hand. Only an idiot like Shan Yi still believed she was keeping her cover well.

“I used to think you were just sheltered by your family. But no—you’re just stupid.” Her tone was dripping with derision. “Tell me, Miss Shan, why would I risk provoking Lin Bie again by helping you now?”

Shan Yi froze.

“How can you not help me? Wasn’t this whole plan yours too?!”

“Pfft—” Gu Ban couldn’t help but laugh. “When did I ever do anything? What are you even talking about? You got recordings? Photos? Evidence that we plotted this together? Don’t kid yourself, Miss Shan. I’ve got better things to do than play house with you.”

“No—wait! You have to help me, Gu Ban—Gu—”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The call ended abruptly.

Shan Yi’s frantic screaming echoed through her apartment. She stared at her phone screen, her expression twisted in rage.

“Gu Ban, you b1tch! F*ck you and your entire family!”

Only now did she realize: she’d been used the entire time.

No wonder Gu Ban had insisted she carry out every part of the plan. No wonder they’d only ever talked in private, never leaving a paper trail.

Now it all made sense.

“Damn it!” Shan Yi roared, unwilling to give in. She grabbed her phone again and frantically searched for new contacts—anyone who could help her fight back.

But then she saw a notification from Weibo.

[Shan Yi’s Studio Announces Her Exit from the Industry]

Exit…? What do they mean, exit? She had never agreed to leave the industry!

With trembling hands, she tapped into the post. It was an official statement from her agency, announcing the termination of her contract—and a legal letter detailing their intention to sue.

[What kind of shitty company doesn’t even know what their artist is doing? Good riddance!]

[Hurry up and leave. Even the compensation fees will bury Shan Yi for a while.]

[Where is Shan Yi? She still hasn’t apologized to the deceased staff member!]

[ … ]

[Random off-topic: who was that girl on set who stood up for Leng Jinxi? Anyone know her name? I just became her fan!]

[Seconded! Pretty and righteous—who wouldn’t love a girl like that? If she becomes famous, we’ll be her OG fans!]

Shan Yi had grown numb to the hate comments. But the ones praising Lin Bie?

Those made her hand freeze. Her pupils narrowed, filling with pure, concentrated hatred.

“Get lost!” she screamed, hurling her phone across the room. It shattered against the floor, shards scattering like glass stars.

She collapsed in a heap, numb and defeated. Bl00d trickled from a vase shard that had sliced her skin—but she didn’t react. She didn’t feel anything anymore.

She had completely lost.

She had nothing left—not her career, not her connections—not even the right to fight back.

Her head drooped as she let out a hollow, broken laugh.

She suddenly understood why she hated Lin Bie so much. It wasn’t just because the girl she liked had chosen Lin Bie instead.

It was because Lin Bie was just like her. And yet Lin Bie was the one who got everything.

She envied her.

She envied that Bei Ning could fall in love with Lin Bie but never even look her way.

She envied how Lin Bie could take what she wanted, how people naturally liked her, loved her—even when she didn’t try.

And she—Shan Yi—couldn’t even get the one person she wanted to glance her way.

That envy had burned and festered inside her, until it turned into hate.

But now, she had lost—completely and utterly.

Shan Yi slumped on the sofa in defeat. Outside the window, the sun was sinking low. Her phone, its screen cracked from being thrown, suddenly began to ring.

The call ended automatically. Then it rang again. Disconnected. Again. Five times in total—finally, Shan Yi picked it up. The screen was shattered so badly she couldn’t even see who was calling. She simply swiped downward on the only clickable area.

“Shan Yi.”

Bei Ning’s voice came through the speaker—gentle and warm like a spring breeze. Shan Yi froze, her expression suddenly panicked.

“Was the trending search your doing?” Bei Ning asked calmly. It wasn’t a question so much as a quiet accusation.

Shan Yi said nothing.

Bei Ning let out a sigh. Her silence had already said everything. “I thought you’d grow out of your rebellious nature. Apologize to Miss Lin and Miss Leng.”

Her voice had turned cold, void of all warmth. Shan Yi felt a sharp, aching pain spread through her chest.

“Why?” Shan Yi couldn’t hold it in anymore. Her voice rose with anger and desperation. “I’m just like Lin Bie! In fact, she’s worse than I am. So why do you like her and not me? Why?”

“You’ve always known I liked you. I’ve liked you since we were kids. Why would you choose someone even more disgusting than I am? What’s so good about her?!”

“I hate her! I hate Lin Bie! I wish she’d just die! Why can you love her and not me?!”

She screamed, voice trembling with fury. In her heart, she believed she had treated Bei Ning well enough—so why couldn’t Bei Ning see her?

“…”

Bei Ning’s voice remained composed, but gone was the familiar tone from their past. She now sounded as cold and distant as a stranger.

“Love isn’t something that works just because one person feels it. I used to like you, too. But later I realized that what you loved wasn’t me—it was a dream of your own making. You thought you were doing it all for me, but you only ended up hurting others. Even now, you think everyone else is the problem. Shan Yi, you’ve truly disappointed me.”

“Don’t contact me again. It’s best if we never see each other.”

With that, Bei Ning hung up.

The dull beeping echoed through the living room. Shan Yi collapsed onto the floor, Bei Ning’s words ringing in her mind—each one striking like a blade.

So Bei Ning had once liked her. What she thought was sincere devotion had been an endless source of distress for Bei Ning. She had long since become unworthy of her.

Shan Yi’s eyes trembled as she looked at her broken phone. Suddenly, a memory surfaced—something Lin Bie had said to her at the banquet:

“If you truly like someone, you should fight for them, not attack others.”

So Lin Bie had told her this all along.

—

Evening. Lin Corporation.

Lin Qingsi sat in her office, reviewing documents. After dinner with her sister, her usual stern demeanor had softened a little. She buried herself in work, trying to avoid thinking about what had happened earlier that day.

Seeing this change, her assistant took the opportunity to share a video she’d seen.

When Lin Qingsi finally looked up from her documents and rubbed her aching temples, the assistant quickly approached, phone in hand.

“President Lin, there’s a video of Miss Lin I thought you’d like to see,” she said, knowing full well how much Lin Qingsi adored her younger sister.

Lin Qingsi glanced over. “Xiao Bie?”

Encouraged by her interest, the assistant eagerly showed her the video.

It was a clip of Lin Bie confronting Shan Yi on set. Lin Bie wore a vest and a cap—simple attire, yet she didn’t come off as plain. She stood protectively in front of Leng Jinxi, gently soothing her before turning to confront Shan Yi.

Armed with solid arguments and industry knowledge, she completely overwhelmed Shan Yi. She was articulate, confident—like a veteran actress with years of experience.

The assistant didn’t know much about the sisters’ complicated relationship. But seeing how capable Lin Bie was, she assumed President Lin would be proud—and maybe even give her a raise. So she gushed enthusiastically:

“Miss Lin has become so much more charismatic than before. It’s like she’d worked in the film industry for years. All the comments and bullet chats are full of praise!”

She continued to exaggerate the glowing feedback, oblivious to the growing darkness in Lin Qingsi’s eyes as the video played on.

“Yes… Xiao Bie’s very impressive now,” Lin Qingsi responded with a faint smile. But the hand holding her pen was clenched so tightly, her knuckles turned white. When the video finally ended, the forced smile on her lips faded.

Her lashes fluttered faintly as she lowered her gaze.

She had spent over twenty years with Lin Bie… and yet she never knew her sister could act.

—

Meanwhile, Lin Bie was lying on her bed, talking to Leng Jinxi on the phone about their future plans. She didn’t want to meet in person just yet, but phone calls were fine.

Their conversation drifted to their wedding plans. Leng Jinxi asked about the actual date. Lin Bie was about to reply when—

Ding-dong!

A system alert rang out in her mind.

[Detected a fluctuation in Lin Qingsi’s favorability: a drop of five points. Current level: -15.]

Lin Bie had just opened her mouth to speak when the system’s words made her shoot upright in bed. Her phone flew from her hand.

“What?!”

She yelled in shock, glaring into the void. “Are you kidding me? Did you make a mistake?!”

The system said nothing. Silence fell over the room, her own voice echoing back at her.

Then came Leng Jinxi’s icy tone from the phone:

“So Miss Lin thinks this is just a political marriage—no need for a ceremony or a marriage certificate? No need to get married at all, is that it?”