Dressed as the Scumbag Alpha Mom of the Tragic Female Lead (ABO, GL) - Chapter 70

Chapter 70

Talking about selling bags made Jiang Chuxie chuckle wryly. On their first day of eloping, they went to a mall, and Gu Lingjun dragged her through a luxury store, buying nothing.

Much later, Jiang Chuxie stumbled upon the fact that Gu Lingjun was seriously planning to sell her bags for cash, boldly listing them on her Xueyou Network profile.

Unfortunately, Miss Gu had no experience selling secondhand goods and failed to sell anything after a long time. When Jiang Chuxie found out, she immediately had her take down the listings.

“They’re just sitting there unused,” Gu Lingjun said, hugging Jiang Chuxie’s waist and pouting. “I was worried you might suddenly need money and not have enough.”

Jiang Chuxie laughed softly. “Thank you, but we really don’t need to. Keep your bags and jewelry—they’ll be family heirlooms.”

“Heirlooms? They’ll be worthless when they go out of style.”

Jiang Chuxie leaned down and kissed her slightly pursed lips. “Then when I earn more, I’ll buy you the latest designs.”

Gu Lingjun didn’t care much about material things, but Jiang Chuxie’s words still warmed her heart.

“If you’re earning money to buy me luxury goods, what should I buy you when I earn money? A computer?” Gu Lingjun clung to Jiang Chuxie, her face glowing with an innocent, radiant smile. “But it’ll take years for me to earn anything, and in my field, I won’t make big money. I don’t know if my salary will even cover a computer for you.”

“Miss Gu is a little heiress—how could you not have money to buy me a computer?”

Jiang Chuxie rarely teased, and Gu Lingjun playfully punched her. “I meant with my own earnings! Computers are expensive.”

It was Saturday. The two had gone for a morning walk, bought some things, and decided to stay in. Partly because Jiang Chuxie had work to do at home, and partly because of Gu Lingjun’s pregnancy.

After learning the company won the bid and convincing Zhuang Qi to pursue the mobile business, Jiang Chuxie could finally catch her breath. On weekdays, they were at school during the day, and she often worked late, only spending time with Gu Lingjun when they slept.

“No worries. By the time you’re working, computers won’t be so expensive,” she said, lifting Gu Lingjun and moving toward the sofa with a light laugh. “Then I’ll use a computer from my beloved wife, and my efficiency will skyrocket.”

Gu Lingjun’s legs dangled as Jiang Chuxie carried her a few steps. She asked curiously, “What’s this? You’re not working anymore?”

“I can take a break. I’ll keep you company.”

“Hmph, keep me company? Or do you want me to keep you company?” Gu Lingjun wrinkled her nose, feigning a hint of displeasure. “I didn’t say I needed you to stay with me.”

Living with Gu Lingjun, Jiang Chuxie always found joy in the simplest, most mundane moments. Her wife, Miss Gu, was not only gentle and understanding but also had a knack for quickly finding the perfect way to flirt, making her heart race now and then.

“I misspoke. I miss you. I want you to keep me company, and I want to keep you company too.”

Gu Lingjun flashed a slightly smug smile. “That’s more like it.”

Jiang Chuxie sat on the sofa with her, casually turning on the TV. In this era, the biggest home entertainment was either intimate activities or watching TV—computers weren’t yet a major pastime.

But TVs weren’t as convenient as future computers; you watched whatever was on. Jiang Chuxie rarely had time for TV, and though Gu Lingjun had more time, she avoided it while Jiang Chuxie worked in the living room to not disturb her. Neither knew much about current popular dramas.

Jiang Chuxie flipped through channels, finally landing on a movie channel replaying a well-reviewed sci-fi film from the winter holidays, using it as background noise.

Honestly, Jiang Chuxie wasn’t too interested in this world’s sci-fi films. The special effects were underdeveloped, making them look fake, and she felt no sci-fi plot could match her own bizarre experiences.

But seeing Gu Lingjun’s clear interest, she watched along.

It was a somewhat cliché time-travel story, though perhaps for this world at this time, it was still a fresh, exploitable concept. The protagonist could travel through time, repeatedly returning to the past to prevent tragedies, only to directly or indirectly cause the deaths of loved ones each time.

The ending oscillated between bad and worse, exposing human frailty.

Jiang Chuxie could instantly name several films with similar themes. The director here hadn’t done anything groundbreaking, and the plot felt predictable to her.

The protagonist’s final choice to stop altering the past and face the future was expected.

Jiang Chuxie disliked the story. Though not identical to her situation, she hated the sense of powerlessness. The protagonist’s repeated failures, struggles, despair, and regret stirred a deep, empathetic pain in her.

“Chuxie, what’s wrong?” Gu Lingjun had discussed the film with her at first but grew quiet, seemingly engrossed. “You’re frowning over a sci-fi movie? You’re taking it too seriously.”

“Nothing. Just think the story’s too cliché.”

“Cliché? I found it pretty fresh, but…” Gu Lingjun glanced at the credits rolling with the end theme, shaking her head. “If he could travel back multiple times, why didn’t the protagonist memorize lottery numbers and win big? With money, a lot of problems could’ve been solved.”

Jiang Chuxie hadn’t expected such a practical comment and burst out laughing.

“You were quiet because you were thinking about that?”

“Not just that. Every time the protagonist hit a wall, I wondered if there was a better way. It’s such a pity—he only tried a few dozen times before giving up.”

The film detailed five attempts, but clues suggested at least fifty.

“A few dozen isn’t enough? Sometimes fate is that cruel—no matter how hard you try, you can’t change it. Facing that despair dozens of times… isn’t that enough?”

“But he changed the original events each time, proving he could affect the past. Success might be a tiny chance—say, 1%. Then he’d need at least 100 tries to say he did his best. If it’s 0.1%, then 1,000 tries. If I were him, I’d keep trying, even 10,000 or 100,000 times, as long as there was a chance. Did fate defeat him? No, he gave up.”

Jiang Chuxie sighed. “You might be right, but repeatedly witnessing a loved one’s death is too painful.”

Since learning of Gu Lingjun’s pregnancy, Jiang Chuxie’s nightmares were filled with vivid, realistic scenes of her death. Each memory was searing, tormenting her nerves.

Forget dozens of times—one would drive her mad.

“Maybe the pain wasn’t enough? He chose to let go of the past and move forward. There’s nothing wrong with that; the movie’s message is positive. Letting go of his mother, wife, and child’s deaths was freeing for him. I think it’s good.” Gu Lingjun hugged Jiang Chuxie’s waist, leaning into her. “But if it were me, I couldn’t accept a world without you. If we had a child, I couldn’t accept her leaving us first. If I had a chance to save you, I’d keep trying forever.”

If possible, Jiang Chuxie wanted Gu Lingjun to be the one who survived.

“But what if you were the one needing saving? If I had only one chance, and you were destined to be… killed by a villain, and our daughter would be harmed too, what should I do?”

Gu Lingjun’s eyes widened, looking at Jiang Chuxie with surprise. Her gaze, expression, and tone were so serious that Gu Lingjun couldn’t help but think deeply.

“If that’s the case… I’d want you to ensure your own safety first. You only get one shot, right?”

Jiang Chuxie closed her eyes—sure enough, she shouldn’t tell Lingjun about this.

“Come on, Chuxie, it’s just a little discussion. Don’t take it so seriously.” Sensing Jiang Chuxie’s low mood, Gu Lingjun hooked her arms around her neck, shifting to sit on her lap. “Besides, if someone tried to harm me, I wouldn’t play sci-fi with them. I’d go straight to horror, turning into a vengeful ghost to haunt them!”

Jiang Chuxie knew she was trying to cheer her up and forced a wry smile. “Lingjun, I don’t want you in any horror movie. I just want you to be safe.”

“Of course I’ll be fine,” Gu Lingjun said, subtly twisting her waist, brushing against Jiang Chuxie’s abdomen. “It was just a joke. Don’t take it seriously.”

Jiang Chuxie inhaled sharply, holding Gu Lingjun tighter to stop her from moving and sparking something more.

“You’re being naughty again…”

Gu Lingjun grinned slyly. “Because you always overthink. This is the only time you really focus on me.”

Jiang Chuxie felt Gu Lingjun’s hand sliding downward, her breathing growing heavier.

“Nonsense. I’m always looking at you.”

“But I want more, Chuxie…” Gu Lingjun straightened, one hand gently circling the back of Jiang Chuxie’s head. “The doctor said my need for your pheromones will keep growing.”

“Growing to the point of needing it every day?”

Jiang Chuxie’s mind started to cloud, unable to focus on anything else. As Gu Lingjun said, this was the best remedy to stop her overthinking.

More effective than any therapy, medication, or strategy.

Lingjun must know this, always comforting her when she was most shaken.

Right now, she should think of nothing, just hold Gu Lingjun tightly, sharing their pheromone scents.

“Chuxie…”

Their eyes locked, passion rising, the moment deepening. But just then, Gu Lingjun’s phone began ringing frantically.

Jiang Chuxie’s desire was growing, and she wanted to ignore it, but the phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Gu Lingjun tried to comfort her helplessly while reaching to the other end of the sofa to grab the phone. The screen flashed “Dad” with the ringtone.