I Marked the Villain After Transmigrating into a Scumbag A - Chapter 2

Gu Zhijing helped the girl onto the bed, then picked up the camera that was still emitting low moans and smashed it hard right in front of Ye Chimu.

The expensive device shattered on impact, and a small black chip slipped out from inside.

Gu Zhijing picked it up and handed it to her. “Here. Destroy this.”

Ye Chimu glared at her, eyes full of hatred. Her delicate face was damp with sweat, but she didn’t hesitate snatching the chip with such force that her fingers dug into her palm. To her, Gu Zhijing’s gesture was nothing more than just a pretended kindness.

Anyone who’d record something like this couldn’t possibly mean well. For all she knew, there was a bigger trap waiting ahead.

Her voice was hoarse as she asked warily, “Did you make any backups?”

“No,” Gu Zhijing said flatly. She didn’t trust the original Gu Zhijing either, so she added, “If there are any, I’ll destroy them myself.”

Ye Chimu’s body trembled slightly. She pulled a blanket over herself, trying to cover up and wrap it tightly around her neck, but the effort only made things worse. The trapped heat seemed to boil in her veins, like fire determined to burn her from the inside out. She dug her nails into her palm until the skin split—pain keeping her conscious.

Even if it killed her, she wouldn’t surrender to Gu Zhijing.

The sweet scent of apples filled the room again, stronger this time. That’s when Gu Zhijing realized. It was Ye Chimu’s pheromones.

The original novel never described what Ye Chimu’s scent was like. It only mentioned, much later, that her glands had been damaged.

Instinctively, Gu Zhijing reached out to comfort her but then caught sight of the bite mark on her chest—a warning that she may have been the one responsible for that damage.

As Ye Chimu’s pheromones flooded the air, Gu Zhijing’s palms turned damp and sticky, as if coated in honeyed apple juice. Her fingertips tingled, sweet and slick with the fruit’s tart scent. It teased her senses and tugged at her nerves.

She didn’t dare touch Ye Chimu again.

Being thrown into this novel felt like Gu Zhijing had walked through ten thousand roads and crossed the most desolate deserts. She was exhausted, parched, and starving.

And there, at the end of it all, sat a glistening, green apple.

So tempting. So close. So hard to resist.

She bit the tip of her tongue, fighting off the filthy thoughts. The shirt she wore was the only thing covering her, and thanks to Ye Chimu’s struggling, two buttons had been ripped open. A bite mark bloomed on her chest, clearly indicating its owner.

“I’ll find you some clothes and take you to a hospital,” she said.

On the floor, only her clothes remained intact. Ye Chimu’s had been torn apart early on. Gu Zhijing rummaged through drawers but found no inhibitors—only bottle after bottle of questionable aphrodisiacs.

She crouched down, back to Ye Chimu, afraid to even glance her way, and slammed the drawer shut.

Ye Chimu saw everything. She wasn’t moved by Gu Zhijing’s “act.” Gritting her teeth, she crawled toward the bedside phone, but the cord had already been cut.

In a place like this, there was only one fate: to be used until death.

This hotel was owned by the original Gu family, tailored for Gu Zhijing’s entertainment. The upper floor hosted private parties—music, drinks, bodies. On paper, it was about networking. In truth, it was coercion.

Gu Zhijing cursed the original host under her breath and grabbed her phone to call for emergency services. When Gu Zhijing lifted Ye Chimu, who was no longer able to sit up, a pillow hit her face.

“Stay away from me!” Ye Chimu snapped.

When she began to collapse, Gu Zhijing instinctively reached out to support her, but Ye Chimu flinched away.

The thin blanket that had covered her split in two during the struggle. Gu Zhijing froze. She knew how dangerous it was for an Alpha in the middle of a pheromone surge to lose control. Ye Chimu knelt on the bed, gripping the torn fabric, and now she was completely exposed.

“I really do want to help you,” Gu Zhijing said, backing away slowly. “I know you don’t believe me…”

She unbuttoned her own shirt and tossed it onto the bed without looking back. “If you don’t trust me, then take a gamble.”

She went to the closet to get a bathrobe. But Ye Chimu’s pheromones were like invisible hands dragging her backward, urging her to turn around and lose herself.

If Ye Chimu didn’t get dressed soon, Gu Zhijing might have to force her into it. Any longer, and just like in the novel, she could lose her gland and be condemned to years of suffering during every heat cycle.

Unable to release her pheromones properly, coiled tightly around her throat like an invisible rope, choking her until the pressure became a dull, constant blade, sawing at her sanity. She bit into her finger so hard the flesh peeled away, exposing the bone, yet she made no sound. Only when the pain subsided did she quietly wrap it in gauze…

Ye Chimu’s willpower was unshakable. She wouldn’t let Gu Zhijing touch her. Gritting her teeth, she dressed herself with trembling hands, buttoning up every inch to hide her vulnerability.

Ignoring her resistance, Gu Zhijing bent down and scooped her up.

Ye Chimu weakly kicked, but her legs had no strength. It felt more like a nudge than a rejection.

Even so, Gu Zhijing’s body tensed. That primitive instinct—the one that told her to claim—raged beneath her skin.

With a desperate expression, Ye Chimu stared at her, her hands instinctively clutching the fabric covering Gu Zhijing’s chest.

She bit her lip and tightly closed her eyes.

She thought Gu Zhijing was going to parade her in front of the cameras—to mock and shame her, exposing the bite mark on her neck.

“I’m taking you out of here,” Gu Zhijing said, pulling a torn blanket over her.

She knew hotel staff would try to block the paramedics—to buy time for their twisted games.

Outside? Ye Chimu didn’t believe it.

There were paparazzi camped at the entrance, ready to capture every humiliating second. This was part of the trap—use the photos later to blackmail the girls. Those who obeyed became toys. Those who didn’t lost everything.

As Gu Zhijing stepped out of the room in a bathrobe, the media swarmed her.

In her arms was a girl, wrapped so tightly no one could see her face. Her expression was icy, hair messily tucked behind her ear—a picture of wild defiance.

Her so-called “friends” waited outside, expecting her to throw off the blanket and expose Ye Chimu for a laugh.

But she didn’t.

She held the girl close. And the moment she stepped over the threshold, searing pain stabbed her skull—as if something had burrowed in and begun chewing at her brain.

Heat backlash?

She gritted her teeth and tightened her grip, enduring the agony that felt like it would bring her to her knees.

But—

The omega in her arms had already gone limp, too weak even to hold on.

“Move,” Gu Zhijing growled.

Had she not been carrying someone, she might have kicked them aside. Her gaze was sharp and predatory, scanning every face. “What, do you all have a death wish?”

The crowd parted in silence. No one dared cross her. The Gu family’s daughter was infamous for being dangerously unpredictable.

She laid Ye Chimu on the stretcher. Night had already fallen, but Gu Zhijing barely noticed the flashing lights outside. She was dizzy and overwhelmed until the nurse approached with an inhibitor shot.

She yanked the blanket down to shield Ye Chimu’s face. “Wait—give it to her in the van.”

“How is she?” she asked the doctor.

“She needs further tests,” he replied, injecting the inhibitor into Ye Chimu’s arm.

Her throat tensed the moment the fluid entered. “It’ll sting,” the doctor said. “Just hold on.”

Twenty minutes later, they reached the hospital. Gu Zhijing thought Ye Chimu had finally passed out, but the girl’s eyes fluttered open again—checking their surroundings.

Only after confirming it was a hospital did she finally close her eyes.

She was moved to a VIP room. Gu Zhijing stood at the door, still in the white hotel robe, bracing herself against the wall.

The doctor approached. “She’s stable. Her pheromones spiked, and the drugs worsened her condition. Her body’s fragile, and she’s unconscious.”

“What about her gland?” Gu Zhijing asked.

“It was just a temporary mark. It should fade in two weeks. If you have any concerns, please consider scheduling a scan for tomorrow. No need to force a wash.”

Her face was instantly recognizable. The whole city knew her reputation.

“You should get yourself bandaged,” the doctor added.

She nodded faintly. Only then did she feel the sting in her limbs. The ache that crawled through her bones like a parasite.

Through the window, she watched Ye Chimu resting. Her body looked fragile, but even in sleep, her brow was furrowed—still fighting.

Once the doctor left, Gu Zhijing entered the room and stayed by her side. When the nurse came in with suppressants for Alphas, she asked, “Would you like to rest for a bit?”

“No need.”

“Is she your omega?”

Gu Zhijing hesitated. Shook her head. Then, realizing the risk of being misunderstood, nodded.

“You treat her well. Whoever drugged her. You should report them.”

Gu Zhijing paused. “I think… it might’ve been me.”

The nurse’s expression changed. Her warmth faded into disgust. She slammed the bottle onto the table.

“You drugged your omega? Are you trying to kill her? Disgusting.”

Gu Zhijing said nothing.

“Beast.”

Still nothing.

Because the original Gu Zhijing was a beast, and she… was no better.

On the bed, Ye Chimu had reached her limit and slipped into unconsciousness. Her eyes were shut. Her lashes were damp. But no tears fell.

This time, she truly slept.

In the novel, Ye Chimu wasn’t a likable character. She was manipulative and hypocritical. One moment sweet, the next ruthless. Even after being beaten half to death by the leads, she’d feign repentance, only to stab the male lead and spiral further into darkness.

The narrative never gave her softness and never let her cry.

Even when she jumped off a building in the final chapter, she smiled as she fell.

The more the novel glossed over her pain, the deeper Gu Zhijing’s heart ached.

She had read it word for word, again and again, never able to let it go.

The comments were full of hate, calling Ye Chimu vile, toxic, and trash.

And Gu Zhijing? She defended her. She analyzed her character and tried to make others understand.

But her voice was too small. She couldn’t change Ye Chimu’s fate.

She tucked the blanket around her gently.

Ye Chimu’s hand remained clenched—still gripping that black chip.

Gu Zhijing’s chest tightened. She tucked her hand under the blanket too.

Now that I’m here, I’ll protect you.

The night passed.

******

June’s heat rose with the morning sun. Light brushed over Gu Zhijing’s sleeping face.

Her eyes opened to the glow filtering through the glass. Dust danced in the beams, casting shadows on the floor.

All seemed calm.

However, she felt a sharp sting at her neck.

Ye Chimu had woken up.

She sat at the head of the bed, pressing a knife to Gu Zhijing’s carotid artery. Her eyes were icy, cold, and menacing.

The blade touched Gu Zhijing skin.
No hesitation.
Only intent to kill.