Failed to Run Away After Transmigrating as the Scummy Alpha's Wife of the Villain - Chapter 26

When Chi Yuan was pushed out of the bathroom by Jiang Ci in utter confusion, the announcement echoed inside: “Gu Ning, eliminated.”

 

 

She walked into the living room to find Gu Ning sitting dejectedly on the sofa, while Gu Meng and Gao Yaohui looked on with barely concealed schadenfreude. Even Zhao Zhenzhen, who usually struggled to blend in with the younger crowd, shook her head helplessly.

 

 

Chi Yuan asked in surprise, “Gu Ning, what was your mission?”

 

 

Gu Ning tossed his phone aside and sighed dramatically at the ceiling. “Find four other guests to form a five-player team in Honor of Kings and lead them to victory.”

 

 

Chi Yuan nodded in understanding—that explained why Gu Ning had suddenly asked her about gaming that morning.

 

 

“I asked everyone. Besides Gu Meng and Momo, no one else plays. I even downloaded the app for Sister Zhenzhen and taught her, but we still couldn’t get enough players. We tried a few rounds with just four people and lost every time—got so badly mocked by the opponents that we lost all morale.”

 

 

Zhao Zhenzhen sighed, “These young people’s games are beyond me.”

 

 

Gu Ning replied, “No blame, sis. I’m just grateful you tried to help make up the numbers.”

 

 

Chi Yuan suppressed a smile—the mission requirements were indeed unreasonably difficult.

 

 

Her own situation wasn’t much better. By noon, Chi Yuan had only been called by name four times—three by Jiang Ci and once by Zhao Zhenzhen.

 

 

At first, she’d thought her mission simple—just get people to say her name. But she soon realized the catch lay precisely in how her name was spoken. In Taoli Village, almost no one addressed her by her full name “Chi Yuan.” It was always “Boss Chi,” “Sister Chi,” or “Xiao Yuan”—using her full name suddenly seemed oddly formal and impolite.

 

 

But without it, she couldn’t complete her mission.

 

 

“Sister Chi,” Momo approached, noticing her troubled expression. “Something wrong? I saw you and Teacher Jiang go into the bathroom together—did you have a fight?”

 

 

Chi Yuan waved it off with a smile. “Nothing like that. Just worried about my mission—I think I might fail.”

 

 

Momo patted her shoulder. “It’s just a game, don’t stress too much.”

 

 

Chi Yuan countered, “Momo, do you think you’ll complete your mission?”

 

 

Momo paused, tapping her slender fingers against her chin before smiling. “Whether I succeed or not, I won’t know until I try. I won’t give up until the very last second.”

 

 

“Just now you said it’s just a game, yet you’re taking it so seriously.”

 

 

Momo blinked playfully. “Some things, Sister Chi, are worth not losing. I’m determined to become village chief this time. If you had to choose, would you pick me or Teacher Jiang?”

 

 

The lethal either-or question. Seeing Momo’s expectant gaze, Chi Yuan hesitated before answering honestly, “I’d choose Jiang Ci.”

 

 

“Why? Because you’re roommates and favor personal connections over merit?”

 

 

Chi Yuan frowned, detecting a hint of hostility in Momo’s question. “Because I trust her. You watched the first variety show episode, right? I believe she has what it takes to be a good village chief.”

 

 

Momo nodded and skipped off toward the balcony. Watching her retreating figure, Chi Yuan couldn’t shake a growing sense of unease.

 

 

 

She actually could understand Momo’s determination to become the village chief.

 

 

When Momo introduced herself, she claimed to be a member of the girl group “iPink.” Later, Chi Yuan looked up this group.

 

 

But on Weibo, whether it was the official account or fan communities, the result was the same—

 

 

No such group existed.

 

 

It wasn’t just that they were obscure—they had zero presence, no exposure at all.

 

 

Adopting a scientific approach, Chi Yuan specifically searched for Momo’s information on Baidu and finally found a few scattered search results that revealed a glimpse of the group.

 

 

iPink had five members and had previously been in a semi-debut state, performing open-air charity shows across different locations. Their Weibo follower count was pitifully low, and they had no stages or singles.

 

 

Then, a year ago, their company posted an official announcement about their formal debut and participation in music shows—a hard-earned breakthrough. But just at that moment, disaster struck.

 

 

The group’s leader jumped from the rooftop of the company dormitory the day after the announcement.

 

 

Faced with such a negative “scandal,” the company’s first move was to suppress the news and shelve the group.

 

 

The planned debut was canceled, and overnight, all traces of the group were wiped clean from the internet.

 

 

Since they were already an obscure, unknown group, this major incident went unnoticed—like a small stone thrown into a deep pond, barely causing a ripple before sinking into oblivion.

 

 

Chi Yuan then searched for the other members’ Weibo accounts. Their posts were sparse, their opportunities so limited they could only stay home “idle.” The most recent activity was them collectively reposting Momo’s participation in the “Peach and Plum Village” program.

 

 

That was why, when Momo first arrived in Peach and Plum Village, the barrage of comments was filled with question marks.

 

 

No such person, no such group—no one cared.

 

 

Ironically, Chi Yuan, as a regular person, had more buzz than Momo.

 

 

Chi Yuan: Maybe I’m just too charming, and that’s why everyone’s attention is on me.

 

 

System: Heh, or maybe the audience just wants to see something special—something especially dumb.

 

 

Chi Yuan: Just wait. Today’s game challenge will be my comeback! I’ll completely overturn the unfair judgments netizens have about me.

 

 

With that, she began staring intently at every move the other guests made.

 

 

The others felt a chill run down their spines, sensing something ominous.

 

 

The TV in the living room, which had been unplugged earlier, suddenly turned on by itself. The sound of chaotic applause filled the air as a comedian on-screen, with a shiny bald head, cracked jokes that had the audience roaring with laughter.

 

 

Chi Yuan narrowed her eyes at the screen and asked Wang Wen, who was watching with great interest, “Who turned on the TV? Wasn’t it unplugged earlier?”

 

 

Wang Wen stuffed a few potato chips into his mouth and mumbled, “No idea. It just turned on by itself. Honestly, the production team wouldn’t give us a simple task like watching TV. The real challenges are definitely much harder.”

 

 

He waved a chip toward Gu Ning, who was arranging a plate of vegetables. “Like his task—inviting guests to play a game. It’s obviously designed to make us fail. As for me, I’m just taking it one step at a time, trying to survive the morning first. The competition this afternoon won’t be as peaceful as it is now.”

 

 

 

Chi Yuan nodded in agreement, but in the next moment, she ruthlessly snatched the TV remote from Wang Wen’s hands and switched the channel to Xiangxiang TV.

 

 

The image of Wang Wen wearing a red mandarin jacket performing crosstalk was instantly replaced by a period drama.

 

 

A woman clad in black robes with a sheer purple outer garment stood atop an altar, her long sword in hand. Her crimson eyes burned with intensity as dark clouds loomed ominously overhead, yet none could overshadow the sharp, oppressive aura radiating from her.

 

 

“Jiang Ci” pressed her lips together, her chilling indifference to human life palpable. The sword hovering before her hummed with power as she declared, “Today, Yunlan Pavilion will be bathed in bl00d.”

 

 

This was the currently trending web series Battle of Clouds, where Jiang Ci played the female lead—beautiful, fierce, and overwhelmingly powerful. Despite being an Omega, she embodied the essence of a top-tier Alpha with breathtaking precision.

 

 

In the entire entertainment industry, she was truly one of a kind.

 

 

Chi Yuan was completely captivated. Jiang Ci’s acting was so masterful that a single glance could pull you into the scene, leaving you lost in its aftermath long after.

 

 

Many of the most iconic, peak-performance moments in the industry belonged to her, each one a textbook example of authentic portrayal.

 

 

No wonder she remained an evergreen star in the entertainment world.

 

 

With the crosstalk show abruptly cut off, Wang Wen silently cursed his misfortune—just one more minute, and he would have succeeded.

 

 

The task he had drawn was directly related to himself:

 

 

“Turn on the TV and play Teacher Wang Wen’s crosstalk performance from last year’s Spring Festival Gala in its entirety without interruption.”

 

 

Seizing the moment while everyone else was busy preparing lunch, he had stealthily reconnected the power cord that Momo had unplugged and casually turned on the TV, adjusting the channel.

 

 

Amidst his nervous glances and rising panic, he had finally fast-forwarded to his own performance.

 

 

The task officially began.

 

 

Several times, other guests had interrupted, forcing him to rewind and start over. Wang Wen felt like vomiting bl00d internally, yet he had to maintain a composed facade as he handed over the remote control each time.

 

 

This time, he was just one minute away from completing his performance—so close to victory.

 

 

But the light of triumph was ultimately extinguished by Chi Yuan. President Chi, how could your hands be so fast?

 

 

Wang Wen sighed inwardly and stole a glance at Chi Yuan.

 

 

His heart skipped a beat—oh no, did I just expose my mission?

 

 

Clearing his throat, he interrupted Chi Yuan, who was utterly engrossed in Jiang Ci’s beauty and acting. “President Chi, I hadn’t finished watching my crosstalk performance yet.”

 

 

“Ah, Teacher Wang, no need to be so formal—just call me Chi Yuan. All this ‘President’ this and ‘President’ that makes me feel awkward.”

 

 

Chi Yuan turned to him, waving the remote with a playful blink. “But, Teacher Wang, if you’re going to sneak in some personal promotion, you should include our beloved Teacher Jiang too, don’t you think?”

 

 

Huh… personal promotion?

 

 

Wang Wen glanced at the nearby camera, his mind racing before finally catching up.

 

 

So, Chi Yuan thought he was just promoting his own content to the audience?

 

 

Well, that’s a perfectly logical explanation.

 

 

Chi Yuan clearly hadn’t suspected the task at all. “Teacher Wang, you’ve been playing that segment for a while now. You can’t keep replaying the same thing—Teacher Jiang’s Battle of Clouds is amazing! It’s the perfect time to introduce it to everyone.”

 

 

Wang Wen: Heh… seems like I’ve been exposed, but not entirely.

 

 

Forcing a smile, he nodded. “Yes, yes, replaying the same thing would bore the audience. Let’s watch Teacher Jiang’s drama for now. I’ll continue mine later in the afternoon…”

 

 

 

“Professor Wang, you can’t play favorites,” Jiang Wan leaned forward from the couch, pouting with exaggerated melancholy as she joined the conversation. “After showing Professor Jiang’s video, could you play The Woman Under the Tree for me?”

 

 

The Woman Under the Tree was Jiang Wan’s most famous work—her debut silver screen performance that launched her career.

 

 

—Though it had already been three years since its release.

 

 

Wang Wen hesitated. How had this turned into him being treated like a jukebox taking requests? His own task would be delayed indefinitely at this rate.

 

 

Seeing his reluctance, Jiang Wan’s eyes instantly welled up with tears as she sniffled, “If it’s too much trouble, never mind. Professor Jiang’s recent drama Cloud Duel is quite popular anyway…”

 

 

Chi Yuan curled her lip and casually remarked, “If it’s your own movie, just play it yourself. The remote’s right here—take your time finding it.”

 

 

Wang Wen swiftly pocketed the remote: “No problem, I’ll handle it. After this episode finishes, I’ll play your movie, alright?”

 

 

Little did he know… this was only the beginning of his concessions.

 

 

Beside them, Jiang Wan instantly brightened, her grateful smile appearing within three seconds—a masterclass in emotional whiplash that left others in the dust.

 

 

Chi Yuan clicked her tongue. She knew this female lead’s entitled behavior all too well. Give her an inch, and she’d take a mile. If Wang Wen waited to screen his own comedy performance, he’d likely still be waiting by nightfall.

 

 

Being the popular female lead’s lapdog never ended well.

 

 

But Chi Yuan had already warned him—if someone refused to wake up, there was nothing more she could do.

 

 

Hmph. Might as well go find her gorgeous roommate for some quality cuddle time instead.