The Scumbag Alpha Movie Queen Pampers Her Wife - Chapter 25

Gu Muchu sensed something was off. After sharing so much with her, why was Ji Yuran suddenly fixated on Lan Jing?

Still, it was true that Lan Jing hadn’t appeared in any of the videos she’d shared.

“She’s my assistant, a Beta who just graduated from university. Sister Ling told me she used to be a fan of mine.”

As for why she said “used to be,” Gu Muchu felt Lan Jing carried a lingering resentment to work every day. This was understandable; once a hobby becomes a job, some of the passion inevitably fades.

Hearing that Lan Jing was a Beta eased the tightness in Ji Yuran’s chest, but Gu Muchu’s next words reignited her unease.

Her heart pounded like a pendulum swinging back and forth. She clung tightly to Gu Muchu’s neck, pressing her temple against hers.

The unique pheromone scent of an Alpha filled her senses. The Wild Rose had sheathed its thorny defenses, leaving behind a soft, intoxicatingly sweet cherry fragrance. With her suppressant patch removed, the exposed gland trembled in the air, sending shivers through Ji Yuran’s body.

“Does she like you a lot?” Ji Yuran asked, her voice carrying a teasing note as she lightly brushed against Gu Muchu’s gland.

The pressure on her sensitive gland made Gu Muchu uncomfortable, and she suddenly felt the night air was unusually hot. She licked her lips and forced herself to sound calm. “Maybe.”

At least she was half a fan, and the two usually got along well.

After that, Ji Yuran went still against her back, her breathing steady and even, as if she had fallen asleep.

Time slipped by silently, and the overlapping shadows on the ground shifted. Ji Yuran rested her chin on Gu Muchu’s left shoulder, then turned her head to gaze at the corner of Gu Muchu’s eye, her fingers curling nervously.

“And you? Do you like her?”

The night wind had roughened her voice, giving it a husky edge.

The words “I like her quite a bit” should have come easily, but Gu Muchu fell into an uncharacteristic silence. Her palm stroked Ji Yuran’s thigh, the contact burning like fire, searing a hole through her paper-thin heart.

After carefully weighing her words, she replied, “She’s alright. No ulterior motives. Sister Ling likes her too.”

She didn’t understand why she was being so cautious, as if she were solemnly pledging her loyalty with her hand pressed against her left br3ast.

It was childish, but she did it anyway.

Ji Yuran lowered her lashes, opening her mouth to say something more, but fearing she might reveal her true feelings, she let out a soft hum.

The translucent glass of the apartment building’s electronic door reflected the interior lights, the glowing blue control panel numbers frozen. As they reached the entrance, Gu Muchu instinctively pulled out her keycard from her pocket, swiped it, and the arm around Yuran’s neck lifted, her fingers obediently pulling the door open.

“I can walk myself,” Ji Yuran muttered, sliding off Gu Muchu’s back like a koala and straightening the wrinkles in her skirt.

The Omega’s fair skin still retained the warmth of Gu Muchu’s palm on her thigh, leaving a faint blush. She rubbed the spot self-consciously, her face suddenly flushing crimson.

“Then why did you let me carry you in the garden earlier?” Gu Muchu teased, oblivious to her subtle movements, and pressed the elevator button.

“……” Unable to make out what Gu Muchu was muttering, Ji Yuran leaned closer to hear, but Gu Muchu immediately recoiled as if facing a great threat, hastily putting distance between them.

Like a startled little rabbit.

“It’s getting late. Are you still going to the new drama launch tomorrow?” Gu Muchu asked, letting go of her earlier worries as they stepped into the elevator.

The cramped space intensified the pheromone concentration. Ji Yuran’s gaze drifted to the faint bulge of Gu Muchu’s gland, visible beneath her thick black hair, and she involuntarily held her breath.

“Yes, I promised them,” Ji Yuran replied, her expression earnest.

Recalling the promotional posts she’d seen on Weibo, Gu Muchu calculated the timing. “Then I’ll drive you there and back tomorrow.”

Realizing her presence might attract unwanted attention, she added, “I’ll just wait in the green room. I won’t go to the event itself.”

Her public appearances were restricted. If she were photographed entering or leaving with Ji Yuran, the media would inevitably spin wild rumors.

Besides rival media companies, Gu Yiqiong was also scrutinizing her every move. Gu Muchu wanted to avoid trouble.

Hearing this, the Omega’s eyes dimmed slightly. But understanding Gu Muchu’s situation, she nodded understandingly.

Just being able to attend the drama launch was already more than she could have hoped for.

As dawn painted the eastern sky with pearly hues, blending into the indigo horizon, the temperature outside plummeted.

Back home, Gu Muchu washed up and massaged her throbbing temples. The exhaustion from her all-night ordeal only hit her when she lay down. Every limb ached, but as she sank into the soft mattress, she let out a contented sigh.

Just then, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She reached for it—a message from Ji Yuran.

Lion: [Image]

It was a screenshot of an internal group chat from the drama crew.

Lion: There’ll be a celebration after tomorrow’s press conference. It’ll be late.

Rong: I’ll wait for you.

Just four words. Rong, Ji Yuran, hugging her teddy bear, rested her chin on the plush toy’s head, staring at the message for a long time, pondering its tone and expression.

She tossed the phone beside her pillow.

Her hand, sliding beneath her nightgown, slowly moved down her leg. As she massaged her thigh, she suddenly remembered Gu Muchu’s hands.

Slender and elegant, with prominent knuckles and veins that stood out when she used them, her fingers spanned a wide range—the stereotypical hands of a pianist.

When Gu Muchu had carried her earlier, she could clearly feel the firm muscles in her upper arms, a stark contrast to her gentle appearance.

She dared not think further, curling up like a cooked shrimp beneath the warm covers.

The venue for the new drama’s press conference wasn’t far from Commercial Plaza. The bustling intersection, teeming with traffic, seemed to gloss over the events of the previous night.

After parking, Gu Muchu put on sunglasses and a mask, then followed Ji Yuran through a special entrance. The form-fitting, coffee-colored mermaid dress, tailored to accentuate her waist, shed its vulgarity on her, yet her striking aura still drew attention.

The rental space for the web drama was lavishly decorated. Massive promotional posters lined the exhibition hall, extending into the corridor leading to the lounge area. Faint light streamed through the window at the corridor’s end. The soundproofing was excellent; the commotion from the front was barely audible.

Seeing no one nearby, Ji Yuran gently pushed Gu Muchu into a lounge with a half-open door. Gu Muchu stepped inside, hearing the door click shut behind her.

The lounge was small, furnished with a vanity mirror, a narrow dressing room, and a wall-mounted television for live broadcasts.

Gu Muchu placed her bag on the sofa, watching with amusement as Ji Yuran fidgeted nervously.

“Stay here and don’t come out. I’ll come find you when the event is almost over.” Despite being alone, the Omega deliberately lowered her voice, sounding like someone with a guilty conscience.

Gu Muchu clutched the remote Ji Yuran had thrust into her hand, deliberately furrowing her brow. “Am I so unsightly that I have to hide here all the time?”

Her teasing remark made Ji Yuran pout. “Stop being so dramatic. You know that’s not what I meant.”

Seeing her pout, Gu Muchu removed her sunglasses, revealing the sharp outline of her almond-shaped eyes. “Just teasing you. Now hurry up and go.”

Ji Yuran’s lips twitched twice, and Gu Muchu guessed she was secretly muttering insults under her breath again.

After Ji Yuran left, Gu Muchu leaned back on the sofa. At the appointed time, figures began appearing on the television screen—the cast and director of the web drama lined up in a row.

Several journalists sat below the stage, their cameras mounted on tripods, lenses trained on the group. As the supporting female character, Ji Yuran stood at the edge of the lineup.

Her navy blue patchwork gown was trendy and stylish. Her expression remained cold as she met the sweeping gaze of the cameras, her sharp eyes radiating a fierce intensity that made it difficult to hold her gaze.

So fierce, Gu Muchu thought, pressing a hand to her temple. She couldn’t resist pulling out her phone and snapping a photo of the screen.

The screen’s proportions did nothing to diminish the Omega’s striking features. Her slender, upturned phoenix eyes, when they shifted, revealed a hint of cold indifference.

The Ji Yuran before her was a completely different person from the shy, awkward woman she had seen earlier.

The initial proceedings were tedious, but Gu Muchu straightened up when Ji Yuran’s name was mentioned.

“Ji Yuran, how do you interpret the character you’re portraying?”

The microphone was passed to Ji Yuran. She took it with a composed expression, her slightly low voice carrying an air of authority and detachment.

“Most people assume that playing the protagonist’s friend means focusing on supporting the main character. However, I believe a character’s development shouldn’t exist solely to serve another character…”

As Gu Muchu listened intently, her thumb rubbed against the remote control.

The Omega before her answered fluently, yet who could have imagined that just this afternoon, in the car, she had been rubbing her eyes while reciting lines, her entire demeanor radiating reluctance?

It was only under Gu Muchu’s urging that she had reluctantly read through the script twice.

Back then, Ji Yuran had been particularly docile, especially when she held an A4 sheet of paper to cover half her face, leaving only her expressive eyes visible.

Gu Muchu regretted not capturing that moment.

The new drama’s press conference went smoothly. After everyone dispersed, the cast and crew gathered backstage.

Without Guo Hao present, Ji Yuran found it surprisingly easy to get along with the others. The group clustered around a table, discussing upcoming plans and industry gossip.

She sat in a corner, her striking features radiating an intimidating aura that kept most people at bay. She remained mostly silent, occasionally chiming in with a few words.

Ji Yuran kept glancing at her phone to check the time, her thoughts preoccupied with Gu Muchu on the other side of town. Just as she was about to send a message, the door swung open.

The assistant director, a middle-aged man with a jovial smile and a slight paunch, carefully carried a cake to the table.

The others stopped what they were doing, their eyes fixed on the cake.

“Hey, we already had the wrap party. Why the cake?”

“I was wondering what the assistant director was up to earlier. Turns out he was preparing a surprise for us!”

The director strode over, raising his voice and gesturing to the group. “Hey, today’s the press conference for our new drama—essentially our last gathering. Everyone here must have a piece of this cake. Otherwise, you’re disrespecting me!”

The surrounding crowd erupted in laughter. The female lead rolled up her sleeves, first using a lighter to burn off the ribbon securing them, then passed the cake plate around to everyone present.

“You Alphas are all so clumsy,” she teased. “Just let me cut it.”

The cake was shaped like a Christmas tree, with halved strawberries adorning the unevenly spread, pale yellow frosting. These late-season strawberries, clinging to the last vestiges of summer, still tasted quite delicious.

Ji Yuran’s gaze followed the cake as she silently put down her phone and placed the plate in front of her.

The actress cutting the cake was Du Ke, known for her lively and endearing charm. Her cheeks plumped into rosy apples when she smiled, radiating youthful vitality. She got along well with everyone on set.

Du Ke divided the cake into sixteen neat slices. The others crowded around, grabbing paper plates. Ji Yuran didn’t want to appear too eager, so she held back, instead taking out her phone to snap a photo of the cake and send it to Gu Muchu.

A reply came almost instantly.

First Light of Dusk: Are you guys cutting cake?

Lion: Yeah.

First Light of Dusk: Tell her to give you the biggest slice.

Ji Yuran chuckled at the message, rubbing her flushed cheeks as her lips curved into a smile.

Lion: I don’t need special treatment. A regular piece is fine.

Only Gu Muchu would say something like that, and the message from the other end proved her right.

First Light of Dusk: If I were cutting, I’d definitely give you the biggest piece.

Ignoring her, Ji Yuran exited WeChat, stood up, and carried her paper plate to Du Ke, who was standing in front of the last piece of cake.

Fresh, vibrant strawberries adorned the top, while layers of pale yellow milk jelly and coconut jelly filled the middle. A glossy red fruit jam coated the surface, filling the air with the sweet aroma of cream.

Just as Du Ke was about to scoop up the cake, a shadow fell across her plate. She looked up to see Ji Yuran standing before her, holding a paper plate. Her hand froze mid-motion.

Though her heart fluttered with nervousness and awkwardness, Ji Yuran betrayed no emotion on her face. Her half-lowered lashes framed a cold, serious gaze.

Someone noticed the situation and murmured, “Hey… we were so busy cutting the cake, Lion hasn’t even had a piece yet.”

The noisy lounge gradually fell silent as many heads turned in their direction, their gazes shifting between the two women. An unspoken awkwardness hung in the air.

Du Ke finally realized the issue and scratched her head sheepishly. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention when I cut the cake. I forgot to include myself.”

Ji Yuran felt the scrutiny of the others. She gripped the cake plate tightly as Du Ke reached out to take it. Yuran lifted her long lashes, her gaze meeting Du Ke’s in mid-air.

Du Ke seemed to want the cake too, but she wouldn’t admit it directly, concealing her desire skillfully.

It was hard to describe the feeling—like losing something she had never possessed, even the anticipation she had once held now shattered.

The assistant director quickly stood up. “Oh dear, it’s my fault! I’ll cut another piece…”

“No need,” Ji Yuran said, placing the flimsy paper plate on the table and shrugging. “I’m not really a fan of sweets.”

“Female celebrities have to maintain their figures, right?”

“Besides, I’m preparing for a new drama and need to be disciplined.”

Hearing Ji Yuran speak so much for the first time, Du Ke’s anxiety eased, and the tension on her face visibly relaxed. “Really?”

“If you want to eat, go ahead,” Ji Yuran said, tossing her wavy curls over her shoulder.

Du Ke gave a shy smile and murmured, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Ji Yuran replied coldly, settling back into her corner seat.

Du Ke beamed with satisfaction and began eating the cake without hesitation. The others’ attention shifted, now focused on savoring Ji Yuran’s earlier words.

“You’re filming a new drama? Congratulations!”

“I always knew someone would recognize your talent, Yuran. Your image is perfect!”

“Wishing you a bright future! Just don’t pretend you don’t know us when you’re famous!”

The flurry of praise and congratulations washed over Ji Yuran, diluting the earlier awkwardness. She tugged at the corner of her mouth, flipping her phone back and forth in her hand.

Unless the web drama became a massive hit, this would likely be their last gathering. Everyone was being unusually friendly, the atmosphere smoothing over past frictions like oil.

Yet Ji Yuran felt the air growing thinner, suffocating her until she could barely breathe. She glanced around the room, then pushed herself up from the table.

“I’m going to the restroom. Excuse me.”

With those words, she left the lounge without looking back.

Gu Muchu received a message from Ji Yuran, abandoning her plans to watch a drama. Knowing the meeting wouldn’t adjourn for a while yet, she left the lounge.

As she returned, walking down the dimly lit corridor, she faintly spotted a familiar figure sitting on the stone steps, propping her chin in her hands, lost in thought.

The Omega’s face had little fat, causing her cheeks to bunch up adorably, accentuating her slender, oval face. Gu Muchu quietly approached from the left and gently tapped her right shoulder.

Ji Yuran snapped out of her reverie and quickly looked to her right, finding no one there.

A chuckle came from behind.

Realizing she’d been tricked, she turned her head upward, meeting Gu Muchu’s refined features. “Gu Muchu, you’re so childish,” she grumbled.

Gu Muchu set down the box she was carrying and sat beside Ji Yuran, tilting her head to observe the Omega’s puffed-up cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be having cake with the team? What are you doing out here?”

The spark in Ji Yuran’s eyes dimmed. She picked up a nearby twig and began poking at the dirt between the bricks. “The cake wasn’t good.”

“I don’t like sweets.”

Hearing the same words repeated twice, Gu Muchu sensed something was amiss. She placed the box on her lap and sighed deeply.

“You don’t like cake? And here I went and bought some for you.”

Ji Yuran seemed to sense something and looked up, finally noticing the cherry cake in Gu Muchu’s hands.

The tempting crimson glaze was adorned with plump cherries and dark chocolate shavings, the aroma wafting through the cardboard box.

She swallowed hard.

“That strawberry cake in the photo was so small,” Gu Muchu remarked, deliberately pointing to the picture Ji Yuran had sent her, her eyes filled with disdain. “How could that possibly be enough for you?”

She vividly remembered how much the Omega had enjoyed the Napoleon pastry in her car before.

Ji Yuran shifted her gaze, muttering, “I don’t even like sweets that much. Why would you suddenly buy me this…”

Her voice trailed off, even she didn’t sound convinced by her own words.

The rustling sound of the ribbon being untied filled the air. Gu Muchu lifted the plastic box after opening it. “It’s not entirely without reason. Today is the second day since we reunited.”

“Does that have some special meaning?” Ji Yuran asked, her expression puzzled. She tossed aside the twig, rested her hands on her knees, and watched Gu Muchu’s movements intently.

After all, two wasn’t one, nor was it six or eight, and it was far from nine. Unless combined with other numbers to form a specific meaning, two was rarely used to commemorate anniversaries.

Gu Muchu glanced at her, continuing to wipe the stainless steel fork. “Why are you so hung up on symbolism? Can’t it just be that I wanted to give you a gift and made up an excuse?”

“Oh,” the Omega murmured, turning slightly and resting her chin on her arm. A fleeting smile played at the corner of her lips, making her look like an obedient kitten.

The corridor was empty and silent, the steps facing a small garden. Neatly trimmed shrubs lined both sides, and hexagonal stone tiles formed an intricate pattern on the ground.

Gu Muchu caught a faint, refreshing scent of pheromones. Noticing Ji Yuran rubbing her nose, she asked, “Do you have a cold?”

“No,” the Omega mumbled, her eyes fixed longingly on the cherry cake. When Gu Muchu finally forked up the smaller half, she couldn’t help but exclaim, “What are you doing? You’re ruining the cake!” She quickly reached out to stop her, but it was too late.

The thin film around the cherry cake had already been peeled off, leaving traces of pale yellow cream. With a single fork, the beautiful, delicate cake was brutally sliced open, revealing its creamy filling.

“It’s all yours anyway. Why bother cutting it so neatly?” Gu Muchu recalled how she used to meticulously divide cakes into even slices, ensuring everyone got an equal share.

But Ji Yuran didn’t need such formalities, because Gu Muchu had given her the entire cake—a whole, generous slice.

Shoulder to shoulder, Gu Muchu carefully forked a piece of cake and offered it to Ji Yuran. The Omega had been grumbling softly, but when the fork neared her lips, she fell silent, her dewy peach-blossom eyes fixed on Gu Muchu with an intense gaze.

To an outsider, this gesture might have seemed overly intimate, but Gu Muchu remained oblivious.

Ji Yuran’s lips curved into a faint smile as her fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of her skirt. Summoning her courage, she leaned forward, ready to open her mouth.

“Wait,” Gu Muchu suddenly withdrew her hand, leaving Ji Yuran hanging in mid-air.

“Say ‘Thank you, Sister,’ and I’ll let you have it.” She deliberately dangled the beautifully colored, fragrant cake in front of Ji Yuran’s face.

I went all the way to buy this by car, Gu Muchu thought. I can’t let this little girl get away with it so easily.

She needs to say something nice first.

The Omega’s eyes remained glued to the cake, following its every move. Hearing Gu Muchu’s demand, she glared fiercely.

“It’s not like I asked you to buy it,” Ji Yuran retorted, her pride wounded. She sat back, resuming her earlier sulky posture, propping her cheeks with her hands. “Besides, I don’t even like sweets that much. Keep it, then.”

Seeing Ji Yuran puff up like an angry pufferfish, Gu Muchu reached out to turn her shoulder. Ji Yuran shook her off, snapping, “I’m not eating it!”

“I’m sorry, I won’t tease you anymore.”

The Omega’s eyes reddened as she took deep, shuddering breaths, but Gu Muchu showed no remorse.

To Gu Muchu, Ji Yuran was utterly adorable, especially in moments like this.

How had she never noticed these mischievous thoughts before?

She turned Ji Yuran’s shoulder again, this time with more force, pinning her in place. Unable to move, Ji Yuran could only pout fiercely, protesting, “So what if you’re sorry? You’ll never change!”

“You’re just too cute,” Gu Muchu murmured, wrapping an arm around Ji Yuran’s shoulder and gently rubbing it. She pressed her forehead against Ji Yuran’s hair, nuzzling softly.

The tender, slightly aggrieved tone in the Alpha’s voice, combined with the obvious affection when she called Ji Yuran “cute,” filled the Omega with warmth.

Ji Yuran’s lips curled into a smile, but she quickly forced her expression back into a pout. “Really?”

Matching Ji Yuran’s mood, Gu Muchu softened her voice. “Really, really.”

Seeing her mood improve, Gu Muchu brought the cake to Ji Yuran’s lips. “Please take a bite, Yuran. Ah—”

As if feeding an infant, Ji Yuran, unable to move her body, simply turned her head away, her resistance unmistakable.

Gu Muchu gently grasped her chin, the feather-light touch sending a tingling shiver through their point of contact.

A blush as deep as the rising tide surged across Ji Yuran’s earlobes. Her long lashes fluttered wildly as she avoided Gu Muchu’s gaze, pressing her lips tightly together.

Gu Muchu pinched Ji Yuran’s cheek, marveling at its unbelievable softness. Reluctant to let go, she pressed her fingertip beneath Ji Yuran’s lower lip and coaxed softly, “Just a little bite, little clam spirit.”