Dressed as the Scumbag Alpha Mom of the Tragic Female Lead (ABO, GL) - Chapter 78

Chapter 78

By the start of summer break, Jiang Chuxie’s physical wounds had fully healed, but the psychological aftermath lingered.

While she seemed normal when awake, frequent nightmares plagued her for months, often waking Gu Lingjun. At six months pregnant, Gu Lingjun’s belly was unmistakable, and with warmer weather and thinner clothes, her pregnancy was common knowledge.

After surviving finals without incident, Jiang Chuxie’s taut nerves finally eased. To prepare for unexpected challenges, she applied to defend her thesis early. Having earned enough credits with excellent grades and a well-prepared thesis, she passed smoothly.

Zhuang Jingyuan took extended leave to attend her defense, returning to campus. Jiang Chuxie had only communicated with her via email or messages, never asking about the suppressant issue. Clearly, a dean’s connections were vast; without her help, Zhuang Jingyuan still secured suppressants and seemed to be thriving—perhaps even… plumper.

They didn’t talk much, though Zhuang Jingyuan seemed to want to say something, but Jiang Chuxie brushed it off.

After the defense, Jiang Chuxie focused on work and caring for Gu Lingjun. Omega pregnancies were easier than Beta ones due to physiology and hormones, but “easier” was relative—pregnancy was always a trial.

Gu Lingjun insisted on finishing finals before promptly taking a leave of absence, and Jiang Chuxie was relieved she didn’t push further.

This year, they’d faced countless upheavals, making it a miracle they completed the academic year.

During the break, Gu Lingjun rarely went out, and Jiang Chuxie stayed home to care for her, only going to the company when necessary. A nanny and Mu Qing helped, but both still showed signs of exhaustion.

Mu Qing assumed the couple was worn out by the pregnancy, but only they knew how much was due to mental strain.

Jiang Chuxie woke from another nightmare. Though she no longer screamed, she seemed to have disturbed Gu Lingjun.

“Sorry, did I wake you again?”

Despite months of calm, with nothing happening, nightmares kept reminding Jiang Chuxie to stay vigilant.

Holding Gu Lingjun’s hand as she wiped her sweat, Jiang Chuxie felt deep guilt. Gu Lingjun, suffering through pregnancy, still had to care for her.

“How about we sleep in separate beds for now?”

Gu Lingjun touched her face, chuckling softly. “That’s your solution?”

Jiang Chuxie said guiltily, “But this won’t heal quickly. You’re already exhausted from pregnancy, and I keep disrupting your sleep.”

“No such thing. I’m a light sleeper because of the pregnancy. Besides, I’ve got nothing to do now, so I can nap during the day. You’re the one running between home and work, sleeping poorly—your body might give out.”

Gu Lingjun wasn’t lying; she wasn’t woken by Jiang Chuxie but by her own nightmares. Jiang Chuxie wasn’t the only one haunted by bad dreams.

“My body’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve graduated, and with Zhuang Qi handling the company, I don’t need to go often.”

Her job had one perk: she could work anywhere with a computer. As the boss, with skills and experience far beyond her staff, she could make decisions herself.

Nestled in Jiang Chuxie’s arms, Gu Lingjun’s small hand absently stroked her abdomen, where the injury had faded to a small, slightly raised scar.

“Lingjun…”

Jiang Chuxie gasped, grabbing her wife’s hand. Though it was just her abdomen, with no provocative intent, it still stirred her.

Gu Lingjun stopped obediently, leaning up to kiss Jiang Chuxie’s jaw softly.

“I just wanted to touch your stomach.”

Jiang Chuxie knew she meant only that, or she’d have pounced already. Since her injury, this had become Gu Lingjun’s habit.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, and the scar’s small.”

“But it must’ve hurt so much then.”

Jiang Chuxie turned, hugging Gu Lingjun tightly. “Of course it hurt, but there’s no point dwelling on it. In that situation, not acting would’ve been worse.”

Gu Lingjun rested on her arm, her eyes stinging.

“Chuxie, I love you.”

Jiang 広江楚些 widened her eyes, thrilled by her wife’s sudden confession. They often shared sweet nothings, but rarely said such direct words of love. Though their feelings were clear, hearing it warmed her heart.

“I love you too,” Jiang Chuxie said, holding her wife, feeling her warmth and love. “Lingjun, I never understood what love felt like before. You showed me what it means to love and be loved. I’ll always treat you well and protect you.”

Gu Lingjun’s brow furrowed, about to speak, when a pulse stirred in her abdomen.

“Mmph…”

In her memories, Jiang Weizao was a quiet child, and this time, her movements came late. At six months, this was only the third time she’d felt her.

“What’s wrong?”

Sensing her shift, Jiang Chuxie tensed. Gu Lingjun guided her hand to her abdomen, smiling. “The baby’s moving.”

Jiang Chuxie’s movements and expression stiffened, instinctively wanting to pull back. She’d decided that if forced to choose between her wife and daughter, she’d prioritize Gu Lingjun, so she avoided bonding with the child.

But feeling the faint pulse under Gu Lingjun’s skin, her heart trembled.

“Chuxie, can you feel it?”

Gu Lingjun had long noticed Jiang Chuxie’s subtle attitude toward the child. Setting aside her initial wish to abort, even after deciding to keep the baby, her words and demeanor showed little care or joy.

Rather than the child, Jiang Chuxie focused on whether Gu Lingjun’s pregnancy was taxing, her health, and practical concerns like fetal position or delivery safety during checkups.

She never spoke proactively about the child, which Gu Lingjun found odd.

If Gu Lingjun’s loops began when she gained control of her body, they were never long—two to three years at shortest, six to seven at most, always ending before her daughter grew up.

She felt guilt over this.

She’d birthed Jiang Weizao countless times, been her mother, yet never raised her, driven by her own desires. To say she didn’t love her daughter would be a lie, but that love wasn’t deep enough to make her abandon her quest for change.

Each time, faced with that question after death, she chose to restart without hesitation.

Death, rebirth, and looping were mystical processes, hard for Gu Lingjun to describe. What lingered wasn’t images but stark textual impressions.

She knew clearly that choosing to give up would let the world continue, but choosing to restart erased everything, starting anew.

Her choice shaped the fate of all. She was like a switch to reboot the world.

Gu Lingjun gradually realized this through her loops, unsure when or how she knew, yet utterly convinced.

Even knowing the impact of her choices, she never wavered.

She was that selfish and stubborn.

But this time, carrying Jiang Weizao, her happiness surpassed any cycle, her care and attachment to her daughter deeper than ever.

This was her and Jiang Chuxie’s child, making her love for the baby profound.

Yet Jiang Chuxie didn’t seem to feel the same… at least, she wasn’t warm toward the child.

“Mm…” Jiang Chuxie managed a dry response, then, sensing her tone was off, added, “Doesn’t she sleep? Moving this late?”

Gu Lingjun laughed at her words. “You think a fetus sleeps like you?”

Jiang Chuxie looked sheepish but kept her hand on Gu Lingjun’s rounded abdomen, murmuring, “I just don’t want her tiring you out.”

“You don’t dislike her because pregnancy’s hard on me, do you?”

Gu Lingjun teased, hooking her shoulder.

Jiang Chuxie’s expression twisted, not denying her lack of fondness for the child.

“Not just that.”

Gu Lingjun’s lips pursed, gripping Jiang Chuxie’s hand tightly.

“You really don’t like her?”

Realizing her mistake, Jiang Chuxie hurried to explain. “Lingjun, it’s not about liking her. I haven’t met her, right? I’m just more worried about you. I don’t want you hurt because of her.”

The rational explanation sounded odder. To others, it might seem logical, but shouldn’t a mother naturally feel for her own child?

Especially the child of her beloved—even selfish as she was, Gu Lingjun couldn’t help but extend her love.

That thought resurfaced in her mind, no matter how she tried to forget it, nagging her.

Was Jiang Chuxie’s love for her truly real?

She desperately hoped it was genuine. But subtle signs suggested her love held an element of “involuntariness.”

Clarifying this was crucial, as she didn’t want Jiang Chuxie to face further unfairness.