Dressed as the Scumbag Alpha Mom of the Tragic Female Lead (ABO, GL) - Chapter 84

Chapter 84

The dim room was silent, so quiet it seemed empty. Only a few rays of sunlight slipped through the gaps in the heavy curtains, and the faint chirping of summer cicadas from outside brought a bit of life to the space.

On the bed in the center of the room, a person lay motionless, and the still air made it hard to sense any sign of life.

Jiang Chuxie lay neatly on the bed, her fingers clasped over her abdomen, staring blankly at the ceiling. If not for the occasional rise and fall of her chest with each breath, she would have looked no different from a corpse that died with its eyes open.

But breathing didn’t mean a person was truly alive. Sometimes, being a walking corpse was more terrifying than simple death.

Since moving back to her rental apartment, Jiang Chuxie hadn’t left once. Here, time seemed to have stopped. She had a quiet place to think, but in truth, she couldn’t think at all.

Her mind seemed to have shut down. Since that day, she hadn’t thought about anything.

She didn’t know how she got back here, how much time had passed, or what to do next. She knew nothing, just as she didn’t know why Gu Lingjun said those words.

“Chuxie, I left some food at the door. You have to remember to eat.”

A clear female voice came from outside, along with the sound of placing dishes, but it was like a one-woman show—no one responded to her words.

The speaker wasn’t discouraged and continued, adding a threat: “I have to go now, but if I come back and find the food untouched, I’ll barge into your room.”

Jiang Chuxie still didn’t reply. As the person left, the room quickly returned to silence.

When did Zhuang Qi barge into the apartment?

A day ago? Two days ago?

Jiang Chuxie had forgotten. Time held no meaning for her. Day or night, a minute or an hour, she just lay there, unable to think.

When Gu Lingjun said she wanted to part ways, Jiang Chuxie’s life seemed to lose all meaning.

She didn’t understand why Gu Lingjun wanted to separate. No matter how she thought about it, from any angle, she couldn’t figure it out, so she simply gave up thinking.

Wasting time like this was as easy as death.

But being alive was different from being dead. She needed to breathe, felt tired, and grew hungry and thirsty. When hunger first clouded her mind, she instinctively found food in the apartment.

Though they had cleared out the fridge when she moved to Gu Lingjun’s place, the snacks Gu Lingjun kept at home were still there.

When she gave in to hunger and ate, Jiang Chuxie recalled what happened when she first transmigrated to this world.

Back then, she didn’t even know what had happened to her. One moment she was at the company, collapsing from sudden chest pain; the next, she was in pain and feverish, lying in a cold, unfamiliar place.

But her body’s instinctual fear of death drove her to find water and food, to stubbornly survive even when she couldn’t think.

Back then, she learned how cowardly she was, how afraid of death, and how resilient.

After all these years and experiences, she hadn’t changed in that regard.

Time ticked by, and Jiang Chuxie barely moved, except for blinking a few times. But when her stomach growled with hunger, she finally stirred.

Food was just outside the door—she only needed to open it to get it. Zhuang Qi couldn’t cook, so it was takeout, neither good nor bad. Jiang Chuxie didn’t care—dead people don’t care about taste.

The food was still warm… Speaking of warmth, Jiang Chuxie thought of the Omega she had personally sent to prison. If Lingjun remembered that, did she know all along that “warmth” was their third wheel?

Jiang Chuxie ate silently, her thoughts fragmented. So, she could still think after all.

But it wasn’t really thinking—more like random thoughts triggered by whatever came to mind. She hadn’t come up with any useful answers, just more questions about why.

Why did Gu Lingjun know these things? Why did she say Jiang Chuxie had deceived her? Why did she want to separate?

Why, why, why?

Didn’t she say she didn’t mind? Didn’t she say she didn’t care? Didn’t she say she’d be fine as long as she could stay by Lingjun’s side?

Why couldn’t Lingjun even grant her that?

Tears streamed from Jiang Chuxie’s eyes, sliding down her cheeks and dripping into the bowl she held. But she seemed unaware, neither wiping her tears nor stopping her eating.

Was it all just fake?

She was just asleep, having a nightmare, like the ones she used to have. If she opened her eyes again, the nightmare would end, and Lingjun would comfort her as before.

Because it was too strange—how could Lingjun know about her transmigration? She had never told anyone. Compared to such an absurd idea, wasn’t it more reasonable that she was just having a nightmare?

So, if she slept well and woke up, Lingjun would still be by her side.

When Zhuang Qi returned from work and saw some food missing from the bowl, she felt a bit relieved. She still remembered how, three days ago, she broke in and found Jiang Chuxie looking like neither a person nor a ghost. Honestly, she thought Jiang Chuxie was… already gone.

It was all too coincidental. Jiang Chuxie wanted to spend her rare vacation with Gu Lingjun, and Zhuang Qi wanted to be with Zhao Zi, so she was thousands of miles away when it happened.

When she heard from Zhao Zi that Gu Lingjun wanted to divorce Jiang Chuxie, she booked the earliest flight back, rushing as fast as she could, but she still couldn’t stop Jiang Chuxie from ruining herself.

Zhuang Qi had brought them together. Besides the two of them, she was probably the one who most wanted Jiang Chuxie and Gu Lingjun to be happy. But for some reason, fate was cruel.

After all their struggles, she thought they could finally live well, but now Gu Lingjun, for some unknown reason, wanted a divorce.

For three days, Zhuang Qi only saw a walking corpse. She was anxious but powerless.

Gu Lingjun wouldn’t say why, and Jiang Chuxie was so lost and dazed that asking her led nowhere. In the end, Zhuang Qi could only stay by her side, hoping she’d figure it out herself.

After cleaning the dishes, Zhuang Qi checked Jiang Chuxie’s phone—she had charged it after breaking in. Jiang Chuxie had no interest in using it now, but Zhuang Qi checked it regularly in case someone, like the Gu family, had urgent news.

Today, there was a missed call and a message. Seeing the contact name, Zhuang Qi thought for a moment and called back.

The call and message were from Liu Wen, inviting Jiang Chuxie to her place for dinner.

Two months ago, Liu Wen had a daughter, and Jiang Chuxie and Gu Lingjun had visited her. But during the baby’s one-month celebration, Jiang Chuxie was too busy, and with Liu Wen inviting many relatives and friends, Jiang Chuxie didn’t join.

Knowing Gu Lingjun’s due date was near, Liu Wen wanted to catch up and share some parenting tips.

“Is this Sister Liu? I’m Zhuang Qi, Chuxie’s friend.”

Zhuang Qi knew Jiang Chuxie trusted few people—besides herself, perhaps only Liu Wen shared a pure bond with her.

“About Chuxie, I have some things I’d like to discuss with you.”

Though Gu Lian was annoyed at his daughter’s sudden decision, as a mother, she was more worried about Gu Lingjun’s health. Though Gu Lingjun initiated the divorce with such resolve, it clearly affected her deeply.

With the due date approaching, Gu Lian quickly decided to have Gu Lingjun admitted to the hospital early for prenatal care.

Gu Lingjun didn’t object. To her, it didn’t matter where she was without Jiang Chuxie. But being in the hospital had one advantage—she could address a “lingering issue” from the past.

“Lingjun, I heard you’re in the hospital for prenatal care. How are you feeling?”

As Gu Lingjun expected, Gao Yuanxun visited her on the first day. The young doctor still wore a gentle smile, her refined features and polite demeanor making her seem approachable.

But Gu Lingjun’s expression was cold. “Dr. Gao, what do you want?”

Gao Yuanxun raised an eyebrow, showing a hint of surprise.

“You seem in a bad mood?”

“Do you think I’d be in a good mood when I’m about to get divorced?”

Gao Yuanxun’s lips twitched into a smile. “I heard about that, but it seems you’re the one who wants to divorce Jiang Chuxie. It’s strange—I don’t understand why you’d do this, or why you’d be upset after being so determined.”

Gu Lingjun gave a cold laugh. “I don’t understand why you told Chuxie about my plans to work with the Lianping Association.”

“I can explain that…”

“No, I don’t need your explanation,” Gu Lingjun said, her gaze sharp on Gao Yuanxun’s face. “I should’ve realized sooner—you’re not the Dr. Gao I used to know. I won’t believe a word you say now, and I’ll reconsider working with the Lianping Association.”

Gao Yuanxun lowered her eyes, seemingly in thought. “Lingjun, you should understand better than anyone how much rebirth changes a person. I won’t deny I’m different now, but I think I’ve changed for the better. Besides, don’t you want to change the status of Betas and Omegas? Working with the Lianping Association is the fastest way. There’s no need to be stubborn about this.”

“I’m not being stubborn—I’ve thought it through calmly. If you’re no longer the person you were, I can’t trust you anymore. Working with you might be a shortcut, but it could also be a bridge to ruin.”

After a moment’s thought, Gu Lingjun realized the only person who could’ve made Jiang Chuxie aware of her connection to the Lianping Association was Gao Yuanxun.