Dressed as the Scumbag Alpha Mom of the Tragic Female Lead (ABO, GL) - Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Even a day later, Jiang Chuxie still felt like she was in a dream. The moment Gu Lingjun suggested a pregnancy test was etched deeply in her mind, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of being frozen in place.

It took immense effort to force herself to think, to pretend to calmly comfort Gu Lingjun, and to accept the possibility that Gu Lingjun might be pregnant.

But she had nightmares all night, filled with images of Gu Lingjun’s tragic death. It wasn’t herself or Jiang Weizao she feared for now—it was Gu Lingjun dying because of Jiang Weizao.

The original story didn’t specify how or when Gu Lingjun died, only that the scummy Alpha Jiang Chuxie caused an accident, and Gu Lingjun died protecting her daughter, Jiang Weizao.

She would never harm Gu Lingjun, but could Gu Lingjun still die for Jiang Weizao?

Though Jiang Weizao wasn’t born in early 2000, if Gu Lingjun was pregnant from that incident, Jiang Weizao’s birth would still fall in 2000. Despite all her efforts, even the protagonist’s age remained unchanged—how could she not feel despair?

She should’ve realized sooner. Emergency contraceptives aren’t 100% effective. A 5% chance, or even a one-in-a-million probability, would be enough for the plot to make it happen.

Was it her negligence?

No, even if she hadn’t been negligent, what could she have done? The moment she was drugged and slept with Gu Lingjun, it was already set in stone. The only remedy was…

Abortion?

The thought made Jiang Chuxie’s scalp tingle, and she unconsciously tightened her grip on Gu Lingjun’s hand.

The choice to abort was the pregnant person’s right. Even as the other parent, she had no say in Gu Lingjun’s decision.

But… if this child was Jiang Weizao, her birth would mean everything was hurtling toward the original plot.

If she didn’t stop it…

“Chuxie, you’re here.”

As Jiang Chuxie’s thoughts spiraled, her mind a tangled mess, a voice snapped her out of it.

Gao Yuanxun, in a white coat, approached with a warm, friendly smile.

“Sister Yuanxun, sorry to trouble you again.”

The hospital was in holiday mode, with staff on rotating shifts. Despite the season, patient visits hadn’t slowed, making hospitals busier than usual. Jiang Chuxie had tried several hospitals for Gu Lingjun, but none had openings, so she turned to Gao Yuanxun for help.

“No trouble at all,” Gao Yuanxun said, smiling at Gu Lingjun and extending a hand. “You must be Lingjun, right? I’ve heard a lot about you from Xiao Qi. Nice to meet you.”

It was Gu Lingjun’s first time learning Zhuang Qi had a doctor cousin and receiving help from her at their first meeting. Out of courtesy, she shook her hand.

In truth, unless an Alpha had intentions toward an Omega, a well-mannered one wouldn’t initiate a handshake, especially with the Omega’s partner present—it was quite bold and provocative.

But Jiang Chuxie didn’t seem to notice.

“Dr. Gao, hello.”

Gao Yuanxun’s hand was icy, almost unnaturally so. Gu Lingjun frowned slightly, unsettled by a lingering strange sensation from the touch.

“No need to be so formal. Call me Sister Yuanxun like Chuxie does.” Gao Yuanxun’s tone was gentle as she gestured to them. “I’ll take you to obstetrics. The appointment’s set.”

Jiang Chuxie forced a smile, trying to act natural.

“Thank you.”

If she didn’t know the original plot, her mood wouldn’t be so consumed by negativity. Even if the child’s timing wasn’t ideal, she loved Gu Lingjun and planned to spend her life with her. If Gu Lingjun wanted it, she’d gladly share the responsibility.

But Jiang Chuxie did know the plot and what Jiang Weizao’s birth meant. No matter how she tried to hide it, her anxiety and confusion seeped into her expression, gaze, and actions—something Gu Lingjun couldn’t miss.

Gu Lingjun knew Jiang Chuxie didn’t want a child yet, but she hadn’t expected such strong resistance.

After the initial shock, Gu Lingjun thought it through. From every angle, keeping the child wasn’t a bad choice, even if it was a bit early.

The school had a leave system, so she could resume studies after giving birth. Jiang Chuxie wasn’t the type of Alpha who expected a spouse to stay home, and they could afford childcare costs, hiring a nanny if needed.

Plus, she knew her parents gained her grandparents’ approval after her birth. This could be a way to earn her parents’ acceptance sooner.

If she wasn’t pregnant, fine. But if she was and chose abortion, her parents would likely see Jiang Chuxie as irresponsible. If they found out, it’d make their approval even harder.

Gu Lingjun planned to discuss it with Jiang Chuxie after the test, hoping to persuade her. Just then, Gao Yuanxun, walking beside her, whispered very softly, “This time… you’re a bit late, aren’t you?”

Gu Lingjun looked up, puzzled, but saw only Gao Yuanxun’s unchanged, gentle smile. It felt like a frozen painting—her lips’ curve, the crinkles at her eyes, never shifting.

“What’s wrong, Lingjun?”

Gao Yuanxun had deep, captivating eyes, paired with striking looks and impeccable manners, making her an Omega’s dream partner.

Yet Gu Lingjun felt an eerie chill under those gold-rimmed glasses, her gaze too unfathomable.

“Um… are we late?”

Gao Yuanxun’s pink lips curved slightly. “No, you’re right on time.”

In the ultrasound room, Gu Lingjun lay on the bed, her soft, pale abdomen exposed. The doctor applied coupling gel, urging her to relax.

Jiang Chuxie, sitting beside her, was visibly more nervous, gripping Gu Lingjun’s hand tightly and taking deep breaths.

She prayed it was a false alarm, but when the doctor placed the probe on Gu Lingjun’s abdomen, her heart leaped to her throat.

The room was silent as the doctor scanned, studying the screen. Jiang Chuxie wanted to look but couldn’t, instinctively closing her eyes. Gu Lingjun quietly watched her reaction.

“Miss Gu, the gestational sac is clear. You’re about two months pregnant.” Despite Jiang Chuxie’s prayers, her worst fear came true. The doctor announced the result flatly, then, perhaps out of kindness or some other motive, added, “Would you like to see the image?”

Jiang Chuxie clenched her jaw, her face pale, devoid of joy. Her mind screamed one thought: the protagonist was here, and all her efforts were meaningless against the plot.

“Doctor, please show me.”

Seeing Jiang Chuxie lost in her own world, Gu Lingjun responded to the doctor. The screen was turned toward her, and the doctor kindly pointed out the sac’s location.

Though Gu Lingjun couldn’t make sense of it, the faint flickering seemed to tell her a life was growing inside her.

In that moment, she resolved to keep this child.

Even if it was an accident, it was her and Chuxie’s child. Life doesn’t always follow plans, but they had no compelling reason to abort.

“Chuxie, look too.”

Gu Lingjun tugged her hand. Jiang Chuxie glanced at the screen in a daze, the blurry image echoing the surreal nightmares she’d had, tinged with an eerie aura.

Flashes of Gu Lingjun’s bloodied death from her dreams grew vivid, despite being memories she should’ve forgotten.

Jiang Chuxie’s breathing grew short, the question inescapable.

Gu Lingjun died when Jiang Weizao was young—when, how, or why, she didn’t know. Jiang Weizao was the novel’s protagonist. If her existence was to ensure Jiang Weizao’s birth, wasn’t Gu Lingjun’s role the same?

Jiang Chuxie once feared dying herself per the plot, but now, that wasn’t her concern.

What terrified her more, and would happen sooner, was Gu Lingjun’s death. Jiang Weizao’s tragic heroine status hinged on losing the mother who loved her most.

Sweat dripped down Jiang Chuxie’s jaw, her vision blurred, her thoughts spiraling uncontrollably.

In other words, without Jiang Weizao, Gu Lingjun wouldn’t need to die.

“Chuxie, Chuxie…”

Gu Lingjun was more important than Jiang Weizao. Losing Gu Lingjun for her daughter was unthinkable—she might not even love that child.

So… so it was better to… before Jiang Weizao formed, before Gu Lingjun poured love into her…

“Chuxie!”

This was the second time Gu Lingjun saw Jiang Chuxie so unhinged. Initially, Jiang Chuxie struck her as calm, upright, and brave, but now, she was panicked, helpless, and lost.

Was it all because of her?

Gu Lingjun pinched Jiang Chuxie’s hand hard. Jiang Chuxie snapped awake, standing abruptly, gasping, her eyes fixed on Gu Lingjun’s abdomen.

The thought consumed her: this child couldn’t stay. She couldn’t risk Gu Lingjun.

Maybe this was why she transmigrated—not for Jiang Weizao, but for Gu Lingjun. Instead of fearing Jiang Weizao’s arrival or the plot’s path, why not eliminate Jiang Weizao’s existence to solve everything?

Without Jiang Weizao, the book ‘Too Early’ would cease to exist, along with her fears. Any future child with Gu Lingjun wouldn’t be Jiang Weizao, and she’d be free of this worry.

“Lingjun, this child…”

Gu Lingjun cut her off calmly. “I want this child.”

A ringing filled Jiang Chuxie’s ears. Gu Lingjun’s gaze was resolute, her soft hand gripping hers with strength. In that moment, she seemed a mother ready to fight the world for her child.

No, no, no—Gu Lingjun had said she didn’t want a child yet. Why was she so certain now?

Was it Jiang Weizao’s power as the protagonist?

“You… you want her?”

Gu Lingjun nodded. “Yes, I’ve thought it over… Can we talk at home?”

Jiang Chuxie stiffly turned to the screen. The doctor had removed the probe for the next patient, and the image was gone.

The more she tried to calm herself, the less her mind cooperated. She felt like she wasn’t herself.

“Okay, we’ll talk at home.”

What if Gu Lingjun insisted on keeping the child? Changing the name wouldn’t help.

She didn’t want to argue or hurt Gu Lingjun. But Jiang Weizao… Jiang Weizao…

Maybe after the child was born… Infant sudden death syndrome could be convenient…

Gu Lingjun would grieve for a while… but she’d stay by her side…

A sharp pain interrupted her disjointed thoughts. She clutched her aching forehead, vaguely sensing something was wrong.

“Chuxie, don’t worry so much, okay?”

Gu Lingjun stood beside her, gently holding her hand, her words and expression so tender.

She should be the one reassuring Gu Lingjun, giving her security. What was she thinking?

Jiang Chuxie bit her tongue, the dull pain tearing through her muddled thoughts. The headache eased, and those absurd ideas receded like a tide.

Only then did she realize what she’d been thinking. Wanting Gu Lingjun to abort was one thing, but those later thoughts—what were they?

No normal person would think that far. What madness had possessed her to have such monstrous ideas?

“Chuxie, you look pale. Are you okay?” They left the ultrasound room and ran into Gao Yuanxun, who seemed to have been waiting. She asked with concern, “Bad results?”

“I’m fine.”

Anyone might have dark thoughts, but not everyone would consider murder, let alone against their own child.

Jiang Chuxie was stunned she’d entertained such ideas. Unlike the exaggerated praises that felt forced into her mind, these thoughts felt natural, as if they were her own.

“As for the results… I want to discuss with Lingjun at home first.”

“Good. If you need help, I’m here,” Gao Yuanxun said, smiling at Gu Lingjun. “You’re young and may lack experience. I’m happy to assist.”

Gu Lingjun sensed an underlying meaning. Jiang Chuxie just nodded, thanked her again, and led Gu Lingjun away.

They barely spoke on the way home, but Jiang Chuxie held Gu Lingjun tightly, as if afraid she’d vanish.

“I want to keep this child,” Gu Lingjun declared upon returning home, reiterating her stance. “And I can list many reasons to support my decision.”

“But… we agreed it’s not the right time for a child.”

“That was before I was pregnant. I supported waiting then. But now that I am, I want her to be born.”

Jiang Chuxie covered her face, taking a deep breath.

“Lingjun, do you know what this means? You’ll need to take at least six months off school. We’ll spend so much energy on her. She’ll be our burden and weakness…”

And most importantly, you might die because of her.

The thought made Jiang Chuxie unable to breathe. She’d tried escaping the plot and recently decided to confront it, but nothing changed.

“I can catch up on studies. With help, I can balance school and childcare. And I believe my parents will accept us then.” Gu Lingjun knew Jiang Chuxie didn’t want a child, but only now realized how painful their disagreement was. “Chuxie, she may be our burden and weakness, but also our treasure. I hope you can see this from a positive angle.”

Jiang Chuxie couldn’t see it positively. To her, Jiang Weizao’s arrival was a signal that the original plot was kicking into gear.

She didn’t want to resent the protagonist, her daughter. She knew Jiang Weizao, aside from being overly saintly, had no faults. But she couldn’t control herself or accept her arrival.

To her and Gu Lingjun, Jiang Weizao was like the grim reaper.

“You’re too simplistic and optimistic. Things won’t just go as you hope.”

But she couldn’t tell or explain anything to Gu Lingjun, only repeating these vague, seemingly paranoid words.

“You’re too negative! Why only focus on the bad? Do you really not want our child that much?”

“It’s not that… I don’t know how to say it. I know I have no right to demand you abort. I’m just… expressing my view…”

The more she spoke, the more Jiang Chuxie felt like a scumbag. Weren’t these the excuses of sleazy men in novels?

Gu Lingjun stood, staring coldly at her. “Fine, that’s your view. You won’t force me to abort. So if I choose to keep her, what will you do? Break up with me?”

Jiang Chuxie’s lips parted, but she couldn’t answer.

She didn’t want to break up, nor could she over Gu Lingjun’s choice to keep the child. But that Gu Lingjun asked this—did it mean the child was already more important to her?

It was just a barely visible sac!

Gu Lingjun waited, but seeing no response, she turned and stormed to her room, furious. It was their first disagreement, their first fight, the first time she was angry at Jiang Chuxie.

She couldn’t understand why two people so in sync couldn’t agree on this.

Having a child was a major decision, but she didn’t think their situation demanded abortion.

She shared her thoughts, her considerations, the benefits, and her solutions, but Jiang Chuxie only countered with potential troubles. The child would be a weakness, so eliminate it preemptively?

That was absurd!

Jiang Chuxie slumped on the sofa, her mind a mess. Their first fight was over Jiang Weizao, who wasn’t even born yet—how could she not feel a crisis?

The thought resurfaced, so intense it scared her. But recalling Gu Lingjun’s determined gaze, her mind was consumed by the fear that Gu Lingjun would die for Jiang Weizao.

Was upholding moral and legal boundaries really worth it?

If she hadn’t clung to her past life’s principles, she wouldn’t have been framed. If she hadn’t been framed, Gu Lingjun wouldn’t have helped her. If Gu Lingjun hadn’t helped, she wouldn’t be pregnant with Jiang Weizao now.

And had this world’s laws delivered justice?

No.

She should’ve known: hesitation and overthinking only hurt her and those she loved. Before meeting Gu Lingjun, she resisted blending into this world, thinking her past morals preserved her true self.

But what did her true self matter? In this world, only Gu Lingjun understood her. If Gu Lingjun was gone, what meaning would this world hold?

What meaning would morals or laws have?

Gu Lingjun returned to her room but Jiang Chuxie didn’t follow. She fell asleep, exhausted and heartbroken from crying. When she woke, it was dark outside, and Jiang Chuxie sat by the bed, silently watching her in the darkness.

“Chuxie?”

“I’m here,” Jiang Chuxie said, gently touching Gu Lingjun’s cheek, her voice soft. “I’m sorry, Lingjun. I shouldn’t have said things that hurt you.”

Gu Lingjun grasped her hand, her voice trembling. “You don’t want this child because that time wasn’t your choice, is it?”

“No, that’s not it,” Jiang Chuxie leaned down, gently embracing Gu Lingjun, kissing her forehead tenderly. “I didn’t think that. It was just so sudden, and I was thrown off by the change in plans. I’m sorry for arguing and upsetting you.”

“So, you still don’t want this child?”

Jiang Chuxie sighed softly. “No, if you want her, keep her. I’ll try to be a good mom.”

Gu Lingjun was surprised. “Really? You’ve come around?”

“Yeah, I have. You’re right—I was too negative. If she’s a treasure, we should protect her with all we have, not shirk responsibility.”

Gu Lingjun smiled joyfully, hugging Jiang Chuxie tightly.

“That’s great, Chuxie. I knew… knew we’d think alike.” She recalled their fight, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have asked that question… I shouldn’t have tried to upset you.”

“It’s okay. I hurt you first.” Jiang Chuxie gently stroked Gu Lingjun’s cheek and hair, her low voice resonating warmly. “Lingjun, I won’t let you be sad or hurt again. I’ll care for you, protect you, and let no one harm you.”

Her weakness and treasure was Gu Lingjun. The Lianping Association, Jiang Weizao, or this world’s will—none would hurt her.