The Scumbag Alpha Movie Queen Pampers Her Wife - Chapter 37

Ji Yuran’s expression was unreadable as she hesitantly spread a blanket on the sofa, seemingly unwilling to leave. She tilted her head, studying Gu Muchu.

Realizing her words had been confusing, Gu Muchu’s eyes crinkled into a smile. She reached out, gently grasped Ji Yuran’s slender arm, and guided her onto the sofa.

The Alpha’s every movement exuded a sweet, refreshing fruity fragrance. Ji Yuran didn’t resist as Gu Muchu’s fingers brushed aside the stray strands of hair framing her forehead.

With her cold, aloof beauty, Ji Yuran stood out in any crowd, like someone from another world. She rarely smiled and kept her distance from others. Yet Gu Muchu knew Ji Yuran’s true nature. Though the Original Self had hurt her countless times, a single moment of kindness could instantly dissolve all her resentment.

This hint of mercy and compassion gnawed at Gu Muchu’s heart, leaving a lingering ache.

“All your edges have been worn smooth,” she murmured softly.

Ji Yuran didn’t catch the words and leaned closer. “What was that?”

“Just remember to delete everything more thoroughly next time,” Gu Muchu rephrased. After a moment’s hesitation, she pinched Ji Yuran’s cheek and tugged it outward. When the pull made Ji Yuran’s striking features momentarily appear more youthful, Gu Muchu immediately released her cheek and gently rubbed it.

The intimate gesture, combined with the subtle tension lingering between them, made Ji Yuran purse her lips slightly. Before Gu Muchu could withdraw her hand, Ji Yuran gently brushed her cheek against it.

“Yanyan won’t scold you,” she whispered.

Ever since Gu Muchu had seen her Weibo account that day, Ji Yuran had avoided looking at it directly. If she hadn’t been so infuriated by the online smear campaign today, her secret might never have been revealed.

She was genuinely worried. Gu Muchu had an excellent reputation in the industry, with hardly any scandals. Now that this incident was being blown out of proportion, it was undoubtedly the work of her rivals.

“Really,” Ji Yuran insisted.

Gu Muchu stared at Ji Yuran, lost in thought. Seeing the Omega’s desperation to convince her, she quickly grasped her wrist.

The sensation of fingertips tracing her wrist bone made Gu Muchu chuckle softly. Seeing Ji Yuran’s earnestness in proving herself, a small flame flickered in her heart, refusing to be extinguished.

“Mm, I believe you,” Gu Muchu said, not resisting as Ji Yuran held her wrist. “You have to believe me too.”

Ji Yuran’s worry was like a piece of milk chocolate—both burdensome and irresistibly sweet.

Gu Muchu admitted to herself that she was starting to enjoy this feeling.

Ling Xin’s office was decorated with minimalist elegance, a stark contrast to Gu Muchu’s artistic style, which blended fluid lines and avant-garde flair. Seated on a genuine leather sofa, Ling Xin flipped through the thick stack of documents Lan Jing had just handed her.

Online discourse had grown increasingly polarized. With No. 1 Media remaining silent, many Weibo users began to suspect that Gu Muchu had indeed worn counterfeit goods.

Gu Muchu was pleased to see this development, as it exposed the weaknesses of several rival brands. She casually flipped through the pages, noting that nearly all the brands listed were European and American fashion houses that had entered the Asia-Pacific market before Serhang.

Her thumb paused when a domestic brand appeared amidst the sea of foreign names. Xian Shang, the Gu Group’s budget line. Under normal circumstances, Gu Muchu might not have given it a second glance. But among the high-end fashion items, the sudden appearance of a sportswear brand felt jarringly out of place.

Gu Corporation. Gu Yiqiong.

Unaware of the prop’s significance, Gu Muchu turned to place the folder on the sofa armrest.

“It’s like wolves and tigers eyeing a juicy piece of meat,” Lan Jing said, bending down to pour a cup of hot water. “What does any of this have to do with our brand ambassador?” She walked over to the sofa, intending to hand the cup to Gu Muchu.

The two women faced each other, neither noticing the other’s movements. In a moment of carelessness, Lan Jing lost her grip on the disposable paper cup, spilling hot water that soaked the documents and splashed onto Gu Muchu’s phone, which was lying beside her.

Fortunately, the documents were protected by a plastic folder, so only the edges got wet. Gu Muchu’s phone, however, fared worse, with water dripping steadily from its corners.

“I’m so sorry, Boss! I didn’t mean to!” Although Lan Jing was usually composed in important matters, she was still relatively new to the workforce and occasionally made clumsy mistakes in her daily tasks.

“It’s fine,” Gu Muchu said quickly, taking the offered phone. She pressed down on the corner and pried off the phone case.

Her phone case was pure black, and the water-stained areas gleamed under the light. As Lan Jing watched Gu Muchu remove the case, a Polaroid photo fluttered out.

Lan Jing caught it just in time and glanced at it during the brief moment she had.

The Polaroid showed a beautiful Omega standing beneath a dimly lit streetlamp. The vintage aesthetic and dark filter gave the photo a timeless quality, rendering even the individual strands of hair with striking clarity.

Her peach blossom eyes curved into a smile, the corners crinkling with laughter. Even through the photograph, her gaze possessed a captivating charm that made one’s heart flutter.

Just as she was about to get a clearer look at the person in the photo, Gu Muchu snatched it away. After carefully wiping it with a tissue, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw no fingerprints remained.

“I’m so sorry, Sister Gu…” Lan Jing cleared her throat, offering an apologetic smile.

Gu Muchu shook her head, discreetly slipping the photo back into her phone case.

For a moment, her heart had inexplicably raced.

“Let’s get back to business. What about Xian Shang? Why did you gloss over that part?” Regaining her composure, she flipped back to the page they had been discussing.

Lan Jing snapped out of her daze, glanced at the page, and realized Gu Muchu was right.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know Xian Shang was a brand under the Gu Group. If it were truly involved…

Everyone knew Gu Muchu and her mother were at odds. Was her own mother trying to kick her while she was down?

Unwilling to pry into Gu Muchu’s personal affairs, Lan Jing shrank back like a quail, asking timidly, “Then, Sister Gu, should we still release the video?”

“Of course we’ll release it. Why wouldn’t we?” Gu Muchu planned to wait for the online buzz to reach a certain peak before releasing the video reversal, clarifying the situation while simultaneously drawing even more attention.

She had seen other young actresses in the company use this marketing tactic with consistent success.

However, given Gu Yiqiong’s determination to undermine her, the viral heat might not reach the ideal level. Still, it would be sufficient.

After finalizing the arrangements, Gu Muchu leaned against the armrest and added, “Send an email about Xian Shang’s situation to Serein’s representatives. They’ll know what to do.”

A few days later, a video surfaced online.

The footage was grainy and black-and-white, but it clearly showed Beta stuffing a paper bag into a trash can. The bag bore the Serhang logo, and a tall, elegant woman stood beside her.

The woman’s identity was irrelevant; the crucial point was the eyewitness. The tags below the video prominently featured the recent Serhang counterfeit controversy, causing the video to go viral instantly. Speculation ran rampant in the comments.

Qian Bubai: What’s this? Did Gu Muchu throw away the clothes Serhang sent her?

School makes me understand the temptation of going home: That’s wrong. Gu Muchu wore the authentic Serhang piece that day. She threw away the fake one.

Nan Jian: What’s the commenter above saying? Gu Muchu wore the real deal at the year-end fashion show? The marketing accounts misled us! Damn it!

Doesn’t like to eat bagels: Help! I feel like a melon-eating badger in a melon patch! Someone save me!

Seeing the momentum building, No. 1 Media’s Public Relations Department released the security footage from outside the dressing room that day, along with the makeup artist’s audio recording.

The revelation sent shockwaves through the internet, sparking a mixed reaction from netizens.

Why are people spreading rumors that she’s wearing fake brands when she’s clearly wearing authentic ones? Are they insane?

I’m convinced fashion shows have no buzz left to leech off, so they’re now trying to piggyback on the Best Actress?

Ugh, what a rotten scandal. Let’s move on.

The aftermath was nothing more than various brands capitalizing on the hype, none of which concerned Gu Muchu. She set down her phone, feeling a wave of relief wash over her.

The living room was empty, with only a glass of water on the coffee table. Gu Muchu reached for it, only to find it had gone completely cold.

Ji Yuran had left quite some time ago, texting earlier that she would be at the film set this afternoon. Since it was nearby, she could return at any time.

To avoid causing trouble for Gu Muchu, Ji Yuran had insisted on traveling alone, refusing to let Gu Muchu accompany her.

The wall clock ticked loudly in the silent room, its rhythm particularly noticeable. Gu Muchu glanced at it and rose to prepare dinner.

Suddenly, the electronic lock at the door beeped, freezing her mid-motion. A smile tugged at her lips.

The door cracked open, revealing Ji Yuran’s radiant face first. Gu Muchu was about to greet her when she noticed the person behind her and froze in shock.

Shen Yanyan stood there, a plaid scarf wrapped around her neck, its dangling tassels tucked into her collar. Her ears were flushed red from the cold. The moment she saw Gu Muchu, she waved casually.

“Long time no see,” she said, her breath misting in the air, acting as if they were old friends.

Gu Muchu’s gaze darted between the two women, her expression betraying her confusion about how they had come to be together.

“You two…?” Her tone said it all.

Sensing Gu Muchu’s unspoken question, Ji Yuran shifted slightly to reveal Shen Yanyan fully. She introduced her shyly, “We met on the way here. I just gave her a ride.”

It was a plausible explanation, yet Gu Muchu suddenly felt uneasy. In her memory, the two weren’t particularly close. Now, they were chatting casually behind her back…

Like a pebble dropped into a still lake, sending ripples across the surface.

Gu Muchu’s discomfort stemmed not from Ji Yuran’s independent decision, but from Shen Yanyan’s eccentric nature and her ties to the Gu Family. She couldn’t help but worry that Shen Yanyan might say something inappropriate in her absence.

“Just passing by? Or were you looking for me?” Gu Muchu sized Shen Yanyan up, who rubbed her hands together and blew on them, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I know you have questions. Can we come inside first? I don’t mind the cold, but if your precious gets frostbite, don’t blame me later,” Shen Yanyan chuckled, nudging Ji Yuran forward with her elbow.

Gu Muchu reacted swiftly, grabbing Ji Yuran’s arm and pulling her inside. She bent down to hand her a pair of fluffy slippers. “Come in quickly, it’s freezing out there.”

Ji Yuran let Gu Muchu guide her, glancing back at Shen Yanyan and whispering, “It’s not like that, don’t say such things.”

Shen Yanyan chuckled dryly, closing the door behind her as she entered. She unwrapped her scarf and tossed it onto the cabinet.

“What’s going on with you two? The little one here can’t take a joke, and you’re not saying anything.”

Perhaps that particular phrase struck a nerve in Gu Muchu’s heart. She looked up at Shen Yanyan, her voice turning colder.

“I never see you come here. What’s the occasion today?”

Shen Yanyan pulled out her phone, brought up the trending video, and showed it to Gu Muchu.

“Here, the person in this video is me. If we need witnesses later, I can release another video.”

That was the sole reason for her visit today.

“I ran into your ‘little one’ on the way and gave her a ride,” Shen Yanyan said, slipping into the slippers. A cold voice drifted down from above.

“She’s twenty-four years old. Stop calling her ‘little one.'”

Gu Muchu subtly pulled Ji Yuran behind her, closing the shoe cabinet with practiced nonchalance. Her voice betrayed no hint of emotion.