After the Scumbag Alpha Accidentally Marked the Blackened Villain - Chapter 7

As she spoke, Lin Bie placed a stack of documents on the small table by the hospital bed.

Leng Jinxi had never had feelings for her to begin with—their marriage was nothing more than a contract built on mutual benefit.

What happened last night had damaged the Leng family’s reputation, and an apology was only the bare minimum. If Lin Bie wanted to lessen Leng Jinxi’s hatred, the best she could do was draw a clear line between their interests—ensuring that their marriage wouldn’t bring Leng Jinxi any more pain or injustice.

“We’ll continue with the engagement,” Lin Bie said seriously. “But to ensure nothing like last night ever happens again, I had a lawyer draft a preliminary agreement—two copies. The content is the same. Please look it over. If there’s anything you’re unhappy with, we can revise it together.”

Her tone was sincere, her eyes bright and expectant as she looked at Leng Jinxi, clearly hoping to be acknowledged for her thoughtfulness.

But unexpectedly, Leng Jinxi’s gaze only skimmed over the bold words Prenuptial Agreement at the top of the document before frowning and looking up at her.

“A business marriage? A prenup?” A faint, bitter smile tugged at the corner of her lips, causing the scab on her injured lip to split and bleed again, making her appear even more frail.

“You’re serious about this?” she asked, brows furrowing.

Lin Bie nodded. “Of course.”

She had her reasons. As someone still bound by an engagement and with two “affection meter” missions to complete involving the novel’s female leads, she was sure Leng Jinxi’s opinion of her would plummet.

By signing a prenuptial agreement that laid everything out plainly—defining their relationship strictly as a business arrangement—she hoped Leng Jinxi might hate her a little less.

And it would help her complete her task and return to her own world sooner.

Besides, even if she hadn’t prepared the prenup, the two families would still need to negotiate terms after the engagement. She was just getting a head start.

So why did Leng Jinxi look angry?

Under that displeased gaze, Lin Bie felt a chill crawl down her spine. She stared at the two contracts on the table, all the while sensing Leng Jinxi’s venomous stare lingering on her skin like a cold serpent.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Lin Bie asked, scanning the document again. She couldn’t find a single term that might upset Leng Jinxi. In fact, after what happened the night before, she had gone out of her

way to slant the terms in Leng Jinxi’s favor.

Leng Jinxi continued to stare at her, her dark eyes reflecting the night outside the window. After a moment, she shook her head slowly.

“No. The agreement’s fine. All the necessary clauses are there—you’ve thought of everything.”

Lin Bie straightened in her seat, relieved—until Leng Jinxi added:

“I just didn’t expect that we haven’t even had our engagement ceremony yet, and you already came prepared with a prenuptial agreement. Lin Bie, how much do you not want to marry me?”

Her voice was low, tinged with annoyance and subtle confusion—yet every word hit Lin Bie in the chest like a drumbeat.

Her pupils trembled. She opened her mouth to explain, but was frozen in place.

She didn’t look flustered on the surface, but her mind was racing in panic.

Maybe I acted too fast.

She had promised to give Leng Jinxi an answer that morning—then by nightfall had already drafted a whole legal agreement and rushed over with it.

That probably made her look eager to draw lines and keep her distance in the marriage.

“We are a business match, after all,” Lin Bie began, her voice dry. “Even if we don’t talk about it now, the topic would’ve come up later. I said I’d give you an answer as soon as possible—I didn’t want you to think I was stalling again, so I had the lawyer draft a version in advance. It’s just a draft. It can still be changed. We can go at your pace.”

As Lin Bie spoke, Leng Jinxi kept her eyes on her. Once she finished, Leng Jinxi didn’t press further. She simply lowered her gaze to the documents on the table.

Under the stark white hospital lights, her long lashes fluttered, veiling the emotion buried deep in her eyes.

Lin Bie sat nearby, quietly peeling an apple to ease her nerves as she waited.

The room fell into silence, save for the occasional rustle of paper.

A short while later, Leng Jinxi looked up. Before she could say anything, a slice of apple touched her lips.

“Have a bite,” Lin Bie said with a hopeful smile. “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

Leng Jinxi raised her eyes to look at her, then at the slice of fruit. She hesitated, lips pressed together—then finally took a bite.

Lin Bie smiled and stabbed a few more pieces for herself with a toothpick, casually munching as she waited.

“There are indeed several terms in this that need adjusting,” Leng Jinxi said quietly, pointing to a clause with her pale fingertips. “But why did you include this one?”

Lin Bie followed her finger down the page:

“In the event Party A enters Omega heat and no suppressant patches are available, Party B, if present, shall provide pheromone support to help Party A through the episode.”

In this world, there were only two ways for AOs to endure heat or susceptibility periods: pheromone-suppressant patches or exposure to another person’s pheromones.

Alphas could power through it, but for Omegas, pushing through heat unaided caused severe damage to the body—this was exactly why Leng Jinxi’s health had deteriorated in the original plot, eventually leading to disability under the original Lin Bie’s abuse.

So Lin Bie had made this clause a priority—to prevent the same tragic story from unfolding again, and to stop Leng Jinxi from going down the path of villainy.

And according to what she’d learned, pheromone transfer didn’t necessarily require a formal bond mark. Under specific stimulation, AO glands could emit pheromones of their own—just having those drawn in by the other party could mimic the effects of a patch.

A bond shortened the entire heat or susceptibility cycle, while pheromones or patches provided only temporary relief.

“Just in case,” Lin Bie explained, sounding almost like a health insurance salesperson. “Our constitutions are a bit unusual, so it’s better to be prepared.”

Leng Jinxi studied her carefully, as if trying to read something from her expression. In the end, she only looked down again, pointing to another line.

“The agreement only outlines how to divide profits and responsibilities. It doesn’t account for unexpected public scandals and how to resolve them.”

“Unexpected situations?” Lin Bie echoed.

Leng Jinxi shot her a sidelong glance. “We’re public figures. If a tabloid scandal breaks out and affects our families’ reputations or assets, what sort of compensation framework is in place?”

She looked Lin Bie directly in the eye. “Yes, it’s a business marriage. Yes, we’re publicly single and free to associate with whoever we want. But even so, scandals could cause immeasurable damage to both sides. I suggest you consider how to handle this kind of fallout—because it’s not unlikely to happen.”

Lin Bie: “……”

Okay, I don’t have proof, but you’re obviously talking about me.

She set her toothpick down and sighed helplessly. “I’ve said it before—I really, really, really am not that kind of person. I was brainless before, I admit it. But after what happened last night, I’ve seriously woken up.

Please believe me.”

Leng Jinxi raised her eyes slightly. “And how exactly am I supposed to believe you?”

Lin Bie shrank under her gaze. Even with 25 years of singlehood in her previous life, she still found it hard to bear.

“I’ll prove it to you,” she said, voice earnest. “I’m not the person you think I am anymore. I’ve cleaned up. I’m focused. Before the engagement, I’ll even go get checked at the hospital. I have goals now—I’m not some spoiled, idle heiress anymore.”

Her words grew impassioned. She reached out and gently took Leng Jinxi’s hand—the one without the IV.

Under the soft light, Lin Bie’s eyes were tender and focused, her warm breath brushing over Leng Jinxi’s wrist as she said sincerely, “Please believe me.”

That pale, slender hand was completely wrapped in Lin Bie’s warmth.

Leng Jinxi’s breath caught. For some reason… she almost felt like she could believe her.

“Alright—”

Before she could finish, a shrill ringtone suddenly blared from Lin Bie’s pocket. The moment shattered.

Lin Bie let go of her hand and glanced down in confusion. The screen showed the contact name [Gu Companion]—a character who, in the novel, had apparently gotten along quite well with the original Lin Bie.

Frowning slightly, Lin Bie hit speakerphone, worried it might be plot-relevant.

“Hey, Lin Bie! You coming to the Southside bar tonight or not? There are a bunch of fresh-faced Omegas here—lots of your type!”

The noisy background, the pounding DJ beats, the woman’s excited voice—all of it echoed crystal clear through the quiet hospital room.

Lin Bie froze.

She looked up.

And was met with Leng Jinxi’s cool, distant smile.

“‘Cleaned up’? ‘Focused’? ‘Not a spoiled heiress’?”

“Miss Lin, you’ve truly opened my eyes today.”