The Scumbag Alpha Movie Queen Pampers Her Wife - Chapter 19

The morning light outside the window was hazy, carrying lingering moisture that traced the path of the wind as it whispered across the glass pane.

Gu Muchu gripped her water glass, unconsciously tightening her fingers and rotating it. Her throat felt coated with a thick, medicinal paste, each word tasting bitter as it slid down her tongue and settled in her heart.

Shen Yiyan’s question shattered the facade of normalcy they’d maintained these past few days, leaving Gu Muchu unsure how to define their relationship.

Strangers bound by a marriage certificate?

Perhaps, when this sham marriage finally ended, they would pass each other on the street without even a nod of acknowledgment.

She instinctively rejected this possibility, feeling it shouldn’t be this way, not after caring for Ji Yuran for so long.

At least we should say hello, she thought.

A knot of frustration tightened in her chest, an itch that lingered just below the surface, making her heart ache. But then she remembered Ji Yuran’s fleeting moments of warmth, and wondered if she had truly let go of her resentment.

Focus on yourself for now, Gu Muchu told herself. Don’t borrow trouble by worrying about the distant future.

“Friends,” Gu Muchu replied absently, her long lashes drooping as her thumb traced the water line on the glass.

Shen Yiyan leaned forward, her hands clasped over her knees, savoring the answer. She murmured, “Friends?”

A soft, indifferent scoff followed.

“So many friends, yet you married this one? You even caught a cold in the rain for her. Who are you trying to fool?” The woman stared at Gu Muchu’s profile, as if searching for some hidden truth.

Gu Muchu possessed a serene aura, her dignified features softened by a hint of youthful awkwardness. The creases of her double eyelids deepened as she glanced up, her face pale and melancholy in her weakened state.

Dismissing Shen Yiyan’s words, she frowned, her brows furrowing in displeasure. “Don’t joke about her.”

In her past life as an actress, Gu Muchu had weathered countless attacks from toxic fans, forging an indomitable spirit. But she knew Ji Yuran might not be as resilient.

She needed to constantly remind those around her that they were independent individuals, neither bound nor defined by their marriage.

Shen Yiyan shrugged, deliberately twisting Gu Muchu’s words to suit her own interpretation. Assuming she was merely protecting Ji Yuran, she resignedly said, “Fine, do as you please. But I didn’t come here just to treat your illness.”

Gu Muchu raised her gaze, her eyes meeting Shen Yiyan’s in the air.

Shen Yiyan was pleased with Muchu’s reaction. She suppressed her teasing smile and said seriously, “Didn’t you go back to the Gu Family recently?”

Muchu remembered her last visit home. Gu Yiqiong had deliberately warned her to stay away from the entertainment industry and return to take over the family business.

Muchu knew nothing about luxury goods and jewelry. Returning home prematurely would not only expose her ignorance but also reveal her relationship with Ji Yuran.

“At the last gathering, my cousin mentioned you were getting engaged to him?” Shen Yiyan cut straight to the chase.

“When did this happen?” Muchu pressed her lips together, her breathing quickening. She felt a headache coming on at the thought of such baseless rumors.

While Gu Yiqiong had arranged a marriage partner for her, she had never mentioned an engagement.

The young master of the Shen Family…

Muchu had no memory of this person. Connecting Shen Yiyan’s earlier words, she suddenly understood the situation. She slammed her water glass onto the bedside table and said coldly, “I will never agree to a political marriage. Tell them to mind their own business.”

Her forceful words landed with a thud, her imposing presence subtly overwhelming. Shen Yiyan studied her intently for a long moment before withdrawing her gaze, her doubts dispelled.

Recalling her earlier ridiculous suspicion that Gu Muchu had been replaced, Shen Yiyan shook her head in exasperation. She must have been bewitched by that Omega outside, finally curbing her arrogance.

“Which of these aristocratic descendants isn’t rotten to the core? That sanctimonious cousin of yours is no saint. I only meant to warn you, but hearing you speak today puts my mind at ease.”

As she finished, Shen Yiyan unconsciously glanced at Gu Muchu, seemingly including her among the “aristocratic descendants.”

Gu Muchu remained indifferent to these remarks. Her hand rested on the blanket over her abdomen, her eyes closed in silent exhaustion.

The rustling of leaves outside gradually faded, leaving the room thick with stifling tension. The Alpha’s eyelids twitched, betraying the turmoil beneath her composed facade.

“Enough with the brooding. If you refuse, Gu Yiqiong can’t hold a knife to your throat.” Shen Yiyan couldn’t bear Gu Muchu’s detached calm and lightly patted the bedsheets.

With that, she rose to leave.

Gu Muchu murmured a thank you from behind, offering no perfunctory attempts to detain her.

But as Shen Yiyan opened the door and stepped out, her foot froze mid-stride. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise before she hesitated, turning back to look at Gu Muchu.

Ji Yuran stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable. The Omega had changed into a loose white T-shirt that brushed against her thighs, paired with light blue denim shorts that shifted subtly with her movements.

Her gaze drifted past Shen Yiyan’s shoulder, meeting Gu Muchu’s eyes. She asked softly, “Breakfast is ready. Should I bring it over?”

Her clear, crisp voice seemed to pull Gu Muchu’s memories back to the past.

Gu Muchu didn’t know how much Ji Yuran had overheard. It wasn’t something worth hiding, but an inexplicable reluctance rose within her.

A small sand dune seemed to have formed in her heart, impossible to smooth out.

“It’s not like I’ve had a high-level amputation. No need to trouble you,” Gu Muchu said, throwing back the covers. She adopted a teasing tone to mask her awkwardness.

Ji Yuran’s lips curved into a smile, but the warmth didn’t reach her eyes. At first glance, everything seemed normal, except for the faint air of distraction in her gaze.

Shen Yiyan observed their interaction intently. As Gu Muchu passed, she deliberately bumped her shoulder and whispered teasingly, just loud enough for them to hear, “Just friends.”

Her voice lingered on the last word, laced with an ambiguous, lingering implication.

Gu Muchu shot her a sidelong glance and pressed her lips together uncomfortably. Knowing she was overstaying her welcome, Shen Yiyan slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried out.

Only the two of them remained, exchanging a wordless glance. The shadows cast by the wall enveloped Ji Yuran, dimming her usual radiant vibrancy and leaving her looking subdued and somber, like a smog-choked, overcast day.

They walked to the dining room, one behind the other.

Ji Yuran had made breakfast for Gu Muchu before, though she wasn’t particularly skilled at it.

The soft-boiled egg, its edges still sizzling with caramelized oil, was placed separately on a porcelain plate and served alongside a bowl of creamy white congee.

The glistening, jade-like rice grains clung to the spoon, releasing wisps of steam as Gu Muchu stirred it. But she had little appetite.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that the atmosphere between them was heavy and strained, her gaze involuntarily drawn to Ji Yuran.

Ji Yuran didn’t intend to sit down and eat with her. Instead, she carried her water glass to the water dispenser, pressed the button, and watched as the steady stream splashed into the cup, her slender, elegant Omega figure reflected in the machine’s polished surface.

Gu Muchu couldn’t help but gently remind her, “Yuran, the water.”

Her voice was soft and measured, as if afraid to startle the woman before her.

Ji Yuran turned back in confusion, following Gu Muchu’s gaze to the water dispenser. She realized, with a start, that the water had overflowed the cup.

Slightly flustered, she turned off the water. Warm water cascaded down the plastic panel, splashing onto her fuzzy slippers. Ji Yuran carefully lifted the cup and took a tentative sip, waiting until the shimmering surface stilled before slowly walking to the square table.

Gu Muchu guessed she had overheard her conversation with Shen Yiyan. Setting down her utensils, she said softly, “You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine,” Ji Yuran replied dismissively, her tone unconvincing.

“I won’t marry the young master of the Shen Family,” Gu Muchu added.

Ji Yuran, who had been surreptitiously nibbling on the cup’s rim, choked at these words, erupting into a violent coughing fit.

Water stains soaked through her white T-shirt, revealing glimpses of her skin beneath. She frantically grabbed tissues to wipe herself dry, glaring at Gu Muchu. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t even like you! Stop being so delusional!” Ji Yuran’s voice rose sharply, as if desperately trying to prove something.

Gu Muchu wanted to explain, but Ji Yuran gave her no chance. She couldn’t understand why Ji Yuran was reacting so strongly, suddenly finding herself at a complete loss for words.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, a rare hint of vulnerability in her expression. “Now that we’ve gotten our marriage certificate… even though we haven’t consummated it… I’m worried you might feel wronged. I wanted to explain beforehand to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings.”

Her words were impeccably reasonable and sincere, leaving no room for criticism. Yet the sullen Ji Yuran found no comfort in this explanation; instead, it felt like pouring oil on a fire.

“I don’t care about any of that,” Ji Yuran snapped. “And please stop overthinking things.” Her delicate face, pressed against her mug, was almost hidden, but her tone betrayed a desperate attempt to deny the obvious.

“Don’t laugh,” Ji Yuran suddenly frowned.

Gu Muchu, her expression blank, paused in surprise. For a moment, she wondered if Ji Yuran was hallucinating. Then, after a moment’s thought, she played along, replying, “I’m laughing because you’re so incredibly cute.”

Her tone was intimate yet respectful, leaving no room to doubt its sincerity.

“You silver-tongued devil!” Ji Yuran stammered, her face flushing crimson. She abruptly stood up, the wooden chair scraping loudly against the floor.

Gu Muchu tilted her head back, gazing up at Ji Yuran with a teasing glint in her eyes.

Gu Muchu adored Ji Yuran’s reactions—so genuine and endearing, like a kitten baring its claws, making her heart melt.

Clutching the hem of her shirt, Ji Yuran racked her brain for a strong retort but came up empty. She grabbed her water cup and fled back to the master bedroom, locking the door behind her.

Gu Muchu pierced the soft-boiled egg with her spoon, watching the golden yolk mingle with the set white. She poured the mixture into her congee and stirred it in, eating slowly and deliberately.

Observing Ji Yuran’s earlier reaction, Gu Muchu wondered if she wasn’t actually repulsed by her.

This thought brought Gu Muchu a sense of relief. She pulled out her phone and sent Ji Yuran a message:

First Light of Dusk: Don’t be mad anymore, okay?

There was no response for a long time. Gu Muchu stared at Ji Yuran’s Stitch profile picture, suddenly feeling childish.

We’re literally separated by one wall, yet we’re acting like we’re in some ambiguous online romance. Elementary schoolers.

Gu Muchu’s chest trembled with laughter.

She never found Ji Yuran’s behavior affected or contrived. On the contrary, her unspoken care and concern felt all the more genuine and heartfelt.

While waiting for a reply, Gu Muchu figured Ji Yuran might not be checking her phone. She switched to her chat with Lan Jing and swiftly typed out a message.

First Light of Dusk: Book a flight for S City the day after tomorrow.

A received emoji came back almost immediately.

Gu Muchu exited the chat and noticed Ji Yuran hadn’t replied yet. After several edits, she squeezed out a message:

First Light of Dusk: My head is so dizzy. It would be nice if someone could take care of me.

As soon as she sent it, she couldn’t resist retracting it, her heart conflicted.

This sounds like I’m trying to play the victim. Not good.

I’m not some helpless child. There’s no need to bother Ji Yuran.

The day passed in a daze. As dusk fell, a light rain slanted across the streetlights. Inside, the warm yellow ceiling light hung suspended. Gu Muchu took her medicine, feeling sluggish, and decided to turn off the light and go to bed.

A knock echoed at the door.

Her phone nearly slipped from her hand. She fumbled for her slippers under the bed and hurried to open the door.

The corridor was pitch-black, with only the light from the guest room spilling out, casting a long, slanted shadow of the Omega’s figure. Ji Yuran’s bangs fell across her forehead, obscuring the thoughts swirling in her peach-blossom eyes. Dressed in a knee-length nightgown, she stood silently, holding a corner of a pillow in her right hand.

Seeing this scene, Gu Muchu couldn’t help but smile knowingly.

During the day, she refused to acknowledge me, but now she comes running over at night, only to stand there in silence.

If she won’t speak, neither will I.

We stared at each other, locked in a silent battle of wills. Eventually, Ji Yuran broke first. She tiptoed to peek inside, then lowered her head and tried to squeeze past me.

Gu Muchu shifted to block her path, deliberately adopting a stern expression. “No talking, no entry.”

Ji Yuran didn’t dare meet her gaze, remembering the message Gu Muchu had instantly retracted in their chat earlier. The thought of leaving vanished.

Gu Muchu was still sick, and here I was, acting childish. Guilt gnawed at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to apologize.

She hadn’t even reminded me to take my medicine today…

With that thought, Ji Yuran shifted her toes slightly, her voice barely audible.

“Don’t misunderstand. I was just worried you might get a fever tonight and not be able to handle it alone, so I came to… check on you.”