Dressed as the Scumbag Alpha Mom of the Tragic Female Lead (ABO, GL) - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Nearly a month had passed since the start of the semester, and the initial excitement of new students entering university had faded. The campus finally returned to its usual calm. Jiang Chuxie continued living cautiously and keeping a low profile. The two incidents from the first day of school seemed, for now, to have had no impact on her life.

Jiang Chuxie multitasked, glancing at stock market trends on her computer while mentally calculating her timeline.

Since she had no intention of becoming a scumbag Alpha, she couldn’t rely on becoming a “phoenix” rising to wealth through marriage. Jiang Chuxie had to work hard on her own. Starting in high school, she earned scholarships, grants, and subsidies for impoverished students while working two part-time jobs a week. In university, with some savings accumulated, she stopped applying for poverty subsidies and took out student loans instead. Besides keeping one part-time job, she earned extra money assisting her dean with research projects and used her savings to trade stocks.

Too Early for That, being a pure ABO adult novel, barely touched on world-building. But from the protagonist’s lifestyle—clothing, food, housing, and transportation—the technological level seemed roughly comparable to the world Jiang Chuxie had lived in, or perhaps slightly more advanced.

However, having transmigrated thirty years before the novel’s main storyline, the technology and living standards here couldn’t compare to the novel’s setting.

Initially, Jiang Chuxie had no way to gauge this world’s true scientific development. For one, she viewed it as just a novel; for another, she started out in an extremely poor rural area, far from the world’s average living standards.

It wasn’t until she reached adulthood, cut ties with her dysfunctional family, moved to a first-tier city for university, and bought a phone and computer that she gained a better understanding of this world.

Mobile phones were fairly common but limited to calling and texting. Forget smartphones—mobile networks were only at 2G levels. Phones with basic audio, video, or gaming functions were the priciest, top-of-the-line models.

As for computers, their operating systems were roughly at the level of Windows 98. Desktop computers were bulky, and laptops were outright luxury items.

From this perspective, the world’s technological level was about equivalent to the year 2000 in her previous life. Interestingly, though Jiang Chuxie couldn’t find a real-world counterpart for this world or country, the current year here was 1999 by the Western calendar. This suggested that some aspects of this world might mirror her original reality, allowing her to apply some of her past experiences here.

With this realization, Jiang Chuxie stopped digging deeper. To her, whether this world was real, virtual, or merely a novel’s setting, it was a precious second chance at life. As long as the world was logically consistent, her next step was to escape her melodramatic fate and live a comfortable, ordinary life.

Glancing at the promising stock trends, Jiang Chuxie smiled with relief.

In her previous life, she’d worked at a securities firm, a true corporate drone. When she died from a 28-hour overtime stint, she’d regretted not choosing a more relaxed life. Who’d have thought that after a deep sleep, her old expertise would come in handy?

“Chuxie, you haven’t left for work yet?”

As Jiang Chuxie shut down her computer and prepared to head out, her campus celebrity roommate happened to walk in. Zhuang Qi, holding a basketball and drenched in sweat, had clearly just returned from a game.

“Heading out now.”

“You,” Zhuang Qi said, noticing the computer being turned off. She tossed the basketball aside and walked over, shaking her head. “We’re computer science majors, sure, but you can’t spend all day glued to a screen. When are you going to join me for some exercise? Look at those skinny arms and legs—how are you going to protect your Omega in the future?”

Zhuang Qi had bold brows and expressive eyes, standing about as tall as Jiang Chuxie. Thanks to frequent exercise, her wheat-colored skin and sleek muscle lines were striking, making her popular among Omegas and Betas alike. She had none of the stereotypical coder vibe.

In contrast, Jiang Chuxie, rarely outdoors, had pale, almost cold skin, unkempt long hair, thick glasses, and plain jeans paired with a white shirt—utterly unremarkable at first glance.

“All day? I work part-time, that’s exercise enough.”

“That counts? Outside of work, you’re coding. Even in class, you’re always tucked away in a corner. Some classmates have already forgotten you exist.”

That was exactly what Jiang Chuxie wanted.

“I’m not as outgoing as you. This suits me fine.”

Truth be told, in her previous life, Jiang Chuxie had been an optimistic, sociable, and upright young woman. She might not have been super close with colleagues, but as a student, she’d thrived socially with ease. Things were different now. After six years in this world, she’d gradually become more withdrawn.

Hearing her response, Zhuang Qi raised an eyebrow, her expression turning teasing. “You say that, but these past two years, you’ve had no shortage of admirers. Hey, did you know? People have been asking about you again lately—several different groups.”

As a campus star with a wide social circle, Zhuang Qi was well-connected and had helped Jiang Chuxie dodge plenty of plot flags.

“Who’s asking about me? What do you know?”

Zhuang Qi reached out to sling an arm around Jiang Chuxie’s shoulder, but Jiang Chuxie, put off by her sweat, dodged without hesitation.

“Talk if you want, no need to get touchy.”

Zhuang Qi didn’t mind, chuckling “Heh heh” as she glanced at Jiang Chuxie’s computer. Jiang Chuxie sighed, giving in. “I’ll help you debug your code.”

“That’s more like it,” Zhuang Qi said. She’d joined the computer science program due to family business interests. Though smart, she disliked technical work and dreaded assignments, leading to their unspoken deal. “I won’t keep you in suspense. Two groups are confirmed to be looking for you. One is Zhao Zi, the student council president from the Life Sciences Department. The other is someone from the Humanities Department, but I don’t know more yet.”

“Zhao Zi?”

A month had passed, and if not for hearing the name again, Jiang Chuxie would’ve nearly forgotten the incident from freshman registration day.

“Yeah, the goddess of the Life Sciences Department. She’s super popular. How’d you catch her attention enough for her to come to our department asking about you?”

“I didn’t catch her attention.” Jiang Chuxie looked helpless, briefly recounting the encounter, then instructed Zhuang Qi, “Hardly anyone in our department knows me. Help keep it quiet, and I’ll assist with your research project.”

Zhuang Qi grinned. “That’s no problem, but I’m just curious why you’d avoid even a goddess like Zhao Zi.”

“There’s no why. I’m just not interested.”

Zhuang Qi sidled up to Jiang Chuxie, her gaze flicking to the slightly open drawer. Distracted by the minor annoyance, Jiang Chuxie didn’t notice and offered a weak excuse. “You know my family situation. I want to establish my career before thinking about relationships.”

“Oh~” Zhuang Qi suddenly reached into the drawer’s gap, pulling out an Omega suppressant and waving it at Jiang Chuxie with a grin. “Or is it because you’re actually an Omega pretending to be an Alpha?”

Jiang Chuxie stared at her roommate and the suppressant, stunned for a moment before bursting into amused disbelief at Zhuang Qi’s wild imagination.

“What are you thinking?”

Zhuang Qi looked smug, as if she’d cracked the case. “I’ve been suspicious for a while. You don’t like Omegas, you avoid contact with people, and you’re always using suppressants… Are you suppressing Alpha pheromones or Omega ones?”

Seeing her roommate’s confidence, Jiang Chuxie couldn’t help but think of a character tied to Zhuang Qi. Without knowing her backstory, this line of thought didn’t seem entirely unreasonable.

“Do you think an Omega could be this tall?” Most Omegas were petite; reaching 170 cm was rare. “Besides, if I were pretending, wouldn’t posing as a Beta be smarter? Living with an Alpha would be too risky, no?”

Zhuang Qi wagged a finger. “Pretending to be an Alpha is exactly your brilliance. Reverse psychology—it lowers suspicion. As for height, there are always outliers. Tall Omegas and short Alphas exist. But you overlooked one thing!”

Jiang Chuxie hadn’t expected her seemingly carefree, easygoing roommate to have been harboring such suspicions. Crossing her arms, she asked with a laugh, “Overlooked what?”

Zhuang Qi smirked confidently, suddenly reaching for Jiang Chuxie’s face.

“You’ve been hiding it, but as your roommate, I don’t miss a thing. Chuxie, no Alpha could be that beauti—huh?”

Just as her hand neared Jiang Chuxie’s cheek, Jiang Chuxie grabbed her wrist, lightly kicked the back of her knee, and twisted her arm, forcing her to kneel.

“Ow, ow, ow, it hurts! Chuxie, I was wrong, I was wrong, let go!”

“Your theory’s interesting, but sorry, it’s dead wrong. If I were an Omega, you’d be weaker than one right now.”

Jiang Chuxie didn’t make it too hard on her, releasing her arm. Zhuang Qi scrambled up, rubbing her sore wrist and whining pitifully, “You look so frail—how are you that strong?”

“I’m an Alpha, after all.”

And a transmigrator who could have plot flags pop up at any moment—how could she not learn some self-defense?

“Guess you don’t need exercise,” Zhuang Qi muttered, looking a bit dejected, whether from her wrong guess or being taken down so easily. “So why do you have Omega suppressants in your drawer?”

It was a long story, and Jiang Chuxie didn’t feel like summarizing. She replied coolly, “It’s a secret. They’re not for me, that’s all you need to know. And I’m not worried about you telling anyone.”

Zhuang Qi huffed, annoyed. “What do you take me for? Even if you were an Omega, I’d keep your secret. Fine, if you don’t want to talk, I won’t ask.”

Jiang Chuxie didn’t dislike Zhuang Qi—she lacked the Alpha traits Jiang Chuxie despised. But trust? It hadn’t reached the level where she’d open up.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the suppressant from Zhuang Qi, tossing it back into the drawer, and locking it, resolving to be more careful. “I’m off to work. Stop overthinking and find out who else is asking about me.”

Having made a fool of herself, Zhuang Qi replied weakly, “Got it… Work, work. With your skills, why bother? If you’re short on cash, I can lend you some, and you can pay me back after you get a job.”

Jiang Chuxie just smiled, shook her head, and left under Zhuang Qi’s gaze.