The Scumbag Alpha Movie Queen Pampers Her Wife - Chapter 14

The airport buzzed with activity, the announcements blending into the clamor of voices, the tiled floors gleaming from constant mopping. An Alpha stood out amidst the crowd, her presence commanding attention. She wore a mid-length khaki trench coat in a British style, its sleeves cinched at the wrists with metal buckles.

A young assistant hurried over, holding boarding passes and identification documents.

Seeing her approach, Gu Muchu adjusted her sunglasses and glanced casually at the business class VIP check-in lane before striding over. “How much longer?” she asked, her voice crisp.

Though her features were soft and refined, the sunglasses hid her almond-shaped eyes, and her silence radiated an imposing aura. The assistant, intimidated, quickly pulled out her phone to check the itinerary. “I asked. The check-in counter at T3 is temporarily closed for routine maintenance.”

Gu Muchu stopped, her delicate brows furrowing slightly. Even with her usually calm demeanor, such a last-minute change—especially without any prior notification from the airport—was bound to be frustrating.

Sensing her frustration, the assistant quickly tried to reassure her, “Maybe the previous flight hasn’t arrived yet, causing the delay…”

The assistant scratched her head, avoiding looking at the Alpha’s expression as she trailed off.

Just then, Gu Muchu’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

Li Kai: The script is tentatively scheduled for auditions at the end of the year.

A standard reply, fitting his reserved demeanor.

After several detours, Gu Muchu had finally tracked down Li Kai. As expected, his recent projects had flopped spectacularly, leaving no trace of success. Investors had gradually stopped knocking on his door.

Li Kai, on the other end, was equally puzzled. Why would someone so influential be pushing an actress for his script?

First Light of Dusk: Send me the script.

Her tone left no room for refusal, and a PDF document arrived almost immediately. The airport’s weak Wi-Fi made downloading a slow ordeal, and it took Gu Muchu ages to finally open it.

Since the project was still in development, only the first half of the story was available. However, all the major characters had already been introduced.

Li Kai’s eye for scripts was undeniably sharp. He chose niche and novel themes that, with the right lead actors and promotion, were sure to become a minor hit.

Gu Muchu clicked “Save,” planning to ask Ji Yuran about her interest in the role when they next met.

A cold, damp breeze swept past, carrying a humid, oppressive heat. Gu Muchu, absorbed in her phone, couldn’t help but lift her long lashes to look up.

The pair were likely a couple. The tall Alpha held a folded umbrella, which, despite being shaken off outside, still dripped steadily.

“That thunder just now was terrifying.”

“It’s almost autumn. The temperature can drop suddenly.”

“I wonder if our flight will even take off…”

As they walked away, their voices faded into the surrounding noise. Gu Muchu tilted her head back, gazing at the sky through the wide window. Dark clouds pressed down, heavy with moisture. Rain lashed against the clear glass, leaving streaks of water that streamed down the smooth surface.

Is it raining outside?

A group of striking men and women gathered around the round table in the private dining room. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, its light reflecting off the silverware in a soft, golden glow.

The director, a man with a weathered face etched with the lines of time, stood up with a stemmed glass after decanting the red wine.

“Tonight, we celebrate the wrap of filming. I want to thank everyone for their understanding and cooperation throughout the shoot. I hope we can work together again in the future!” He drained his glass in one gulp, and the others applauded.

As the meal began, the actors around Ji Yuran chatted and ate, but the stunning Omega remained aloof.

Though Ji Yuran wanted to join in, her aura made it difficult for others to approach her. Realizing no one would initiate conversation, she lowered her lashes, released her grip on the wine glass, and silently picked at the dishes in her bowl with her chopsticks.

Just then, a man boldly raised his chin in her direction.

“Yuran, why are you just eating and not talking? Come on, let me toast you!” His wide, double-lidded eyes gave him a flirtatious air, and his smile was as sly as a fox’s.

Hearing the overly familiar address, Ji Yuran instinctively frowned and shot him a quick glance.

She remembered his name was Guo Hao, the third male lead in the drama.

Ignoring the man’s advances, Ji Yuran continued stirring her porridge with a spoon, as if she hadn’t heard him at all.

The Omega’s long lashes cast a shadow over her eyes. Even that fleeting glance, with the watery shimmer in her peach blossom eyes, was enough to stir one’s heart.

The man snapped out of his daze, realizing the awkwardness of the situation, and called out again.

“Don’t call me that. We’re not close,” Ji Yuran replied coolly, never once lifting her gaze.

Her words instantly silenced the once lively room. Many paused their hushed conversations, their eyes drawn to the pair as if watching a drama unfold.

The rebuffed man’s expression twisted, his pride wounded. He forced out a few words through gritted teeth: “So, even beauties act aloof!”

His remark was meant as a joke, eliciting scattered laughter. But Guo Hao, undeterred, persisted: “Actually, someone as stunning as you should be famous already. A snap of your fingers would bring investors flocking…”

Clang! Ji Yuran sneered, slamming her wooden chopsticks beside her bowl and rising abruptly.

The wooden chair scraped against the floor with a dull thud as she grabbed her purse from behind her. “If that’s what you want,” she scoffed, “you might as well strip naked.”

With that, she turned and left without looking back.

The oppressive atmosphere dissipated as she stepped out of the stuffy private room. Ji Yuran took a deep breath and leaned against the railing, her hands gripping the cold metal.

She had initially looked forward to dining with the crew, but now she was fleeing.

Her discomfort had begun with the overly familiar jokes earlier. She couldn’t understand why even the dinner table of a small web series was tainted by power plays, sexual innuendo, and crude humor.

She and Guo Hao had barely exchanged a few words on set, yet he had already set his sights on her.

In the past, Ji Yuran might have tried to maintain appearances, but now all she wanted was to go home.

The floor-to-ceiling glass window beside the spiral staircase revealed a sudden drop in temperature. The soundproofed room had masked the change, but now she noticed streaks of rain slanting across the glass. Rain dripped through the gaps in the leaves, creating ripples in the puddles on the ground.

It’s raining?

Ji Yuran frowned. The forecast had predicted cloudy weather for the past few days. This rain couldn’t have come at a worse time.

Without an umbrella, she decided to wait on the lobby sofa for a while before leaving.

Moments later, a commotion erupted upstairs, followed by a large group of people descending the stairs—the crew from the earlier dinner.

Guo Hao, who was leading the group, said something that made the others burst into laughter. Suddenly, he stopped walking and stared directly at the people in the lobby.

The moment their eyes met, Ji Yuran stood up and walked out of the hotel. The footsteps behind her grew closer; Guo Hao seemed determined to embarrass her by confronting her with his entourage.

The soft, continuous rain brushed against her cheeks like barely perceptible spider silk. Ji Yuran clutched her handbag tightly, stepped onto the slick stone steps, and left.

A thin gray mist enveloped her head, seeping into her skin. The hotel was located in a semi-rural area, with few people around.

Soon, the rain intensified, pouring down like spilled beans. The hem of Ji Yuran’s dress grew damp, raindrops clung to her long lashes, and her voluminous curls plastered against the back of her neck.

A bus stop appeared ahead, and she instinctively ran toward it.

She wasn’t the only one taking shelter there. Ji Yuran found an empty corner to crouch down in and pulled a tissue from her handbag to carefully wipe the muddy splashes from her boots.

The others were quietly scrolling through their phones, their faces calm, suggesting they had rides coming. Ji Yuran wiped the water from her phone screen, intending to call a taxi, but the signal was terrible in the downpour.

After staring at the swirling screen for a long while, watching the battery indicator in the upper right corner dwindle, she sighed and turned off the screen.

The azure mountain peaks blended into the cold, dark clouds on the horizon, the rain blurring distant lights. Behind the bus stop, an advertising panel lit up, plastered with countless layers of small ads.

Ji Yuran remembered that the buses here stopped running at six o’clock.

A car splashed through the puddles and pulled up smoothly in front of the bus stop. The girl beside her moved, took the umbrella from the driver, and hopped into the car with a bounce.

“Why did you take so long? I’ve been waiting forever!”

“I even took time off work just to rush here as soon as I got your message.”

“……”

The lovers’ banter faded as the car drove away.

Ji Yuran looked up, the envy in her eyes fleeting.

The rain showed no signs of letting up, and as if by agreement, one by one, the people sheltering at the bus stop were picked up. Eventually, only Ji Yuran and an elderly woman remained.

The downpour intensified, the shelter overhead trembling as if it couldn’t withstand the force. Visibility was reduced to near zero, leaving only a vast, blurry expanse.

Yu Guangzhong, the old woman, leaned on her cane and waved at the roadside. As if sensing her, a car pulled up in front of her.

“Mom, what are you doing running around at your age?” A middle-aged man got out of the car and helped her inside.

Ji Yuran watched their retreating figures intently before shrinking further into herself.

The rain threatened to submerge the low-lying bus stop. Squatting nearby, one could easily be splashed by the muddy puddles.

Wearing a long dress, she felt the chill and couldn’t help but crouch down, curling into a tight ball.

Soon, she was the only one left at the bus stop.

The feeling was like being in kindergarten, watching one classmate after another get picked up by their parents until she was the last one, waiting until dark, panic rising in her chest.

Strands of hair stuck to her forehead, and her carefully styled dress was now stained with dark patches of water.

For Ji Yuran, today had been undeniably terrible. But thinking about it, waiting alone by the roadside for the rain to stop didn’t seem so bad after all.

A muffled thunderclap rumbled, accompanied by rolling dark clouds that pressed down like a heavy weight. Lightning tore through the silent night sky, like standing beneath a steel bridge as a heavily loaded truck sped past.

Ji Yuran’s face paled as she stared at the black water trickling through the cracks in the brick. She hugged her knees to her chest for warmth, the unsteady platform light casting a slanted glow across her shivering form.

Apart from the relentless rain, the surroundings were eerily quiet, as if she were the only person left in the world.

Here, at least, she felt free. No one could see her miserable state.

The thunder roared louder and more violently. Ji Yuran’s nose was numb with cold as she checked her phone again, confirming there was still no signal. She resigned herself to spending the night at the bus stop.

An hour passed. Ji Yuran’s head tilted as she stared blankly at the small puddles carved out by the torrential rain.

Beep—

A long, drawn-out horn blared.

Ji Yuran wearily lifted her gaze. In the blinding headlights, massive raindrops cascaded down, their descent illuminated by the intense glare.

Her eyes widened, her bright peach blossom eyes reflecting the figure stepping out of the car.

Alpha, wearing a khaki trench coat and holding an umbrella, walked through the rain. Water streamed down the curved umbrella, soaking half of her coat a muddy brown. Gu Muchu approached from the shadows, her long, straight black hair flattened slightly by the pounding rain, with only a few strands lifting like downy feathers in the wind, catching the faint light.

“Yuran!” Her voice, like a distant call from the heavens, gradually grew closer.

Even through the curtain of rain, Gu Muchu spotted Ji Yuran immediately. She waved as she carefully stepped through the puddles.

Ji Yuran’s fingers curled on her lap as she stared in disbelief. She wanted to speak, but no words could express the overwhelming emotions surging through her.

A sharp pang pierced her chest, followed by a turbulent undercurrent of feelings.

Clenching her lower lip, Ji Yuran watched Gu Muchu rush toward her, suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of injustice.

She had never liked stormy weather.

The curtain of early autumn had been drawn open by a sudden, torrential downpour.