The Scumbag Alpha Movie Queen Pampers Her Wife - Chapter 5

“Why are you being so nice to her?”

Gu Muchu turned around, her gaze sweeping over the Omega standing a short distance away. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she remained silent.

Ji Yuran hadn’t expected her casual remark to provoke such a strong reaction. She froze in place, her eyes locking onto Gu Muchu’s, as if determined to find the right answer.

A warm breeze lifted the Omega’s skirt, and the air between them stirred slowly. After a long, tense standoff, Gu Muchu’s lips curved into a smile, though the expression didn’t reach her eyes.

She carried a supermarket shopping bag in one hand, sunglasses perched on her nose, making it impossible to discern her true emotions through the tinted lenses.

“Scared?” she asked slowly, her tone devoid of warmth or anger. When the Alpha’s face remained expressionless, she seemed almost unapproachable.

Gu Muchu knew Ji Yuran was wavering, torn between caution and hope, afraid that one day she would drop her facade and torment her even more cruelly.

But words were meaningless; only actions could truly convince.

The simple question carried an invisible weight, causing Ji Yuran to fidget. She carefully chose her words, her voice barely audible, “Not scared…”

Just caught off guard.

If Gu Muchu were still the same as before, venting her frustrations on Ji Yuran whenever displeased, Ji Yuran could at least raise her defenses and protect herself.

Ji Yuran couldn’t understand why Gu Muchu, who had risen to such a prominent position with countless admirers and endless offers of partnership, had chosen her specifically.

She unconsciously touched her cheek, her fingertips tracing the soft, delicate skin. Ji Yuran lifted her long lashes, quietly awaiting an answer.

After a tense silence, a soft laugh broke the stillness.

The Alpha seemed lost in a distant memory, her gaze fixed on the car window beside her. The glass reflected her beautiful, unadorned face, framed by swaying branches overhead.

Gu Muchu seemed to be looking through her own reflection, as if studying a complete stranger. She murmured, “I had a very, very long dream.”

Ji Yuran held her breath.

“I dreamed of breaking your wings and making you my possession.” Recalling the original novel’s plot, Gu Muchu’s voice turned icy, despite the sweltering late summer heat, an inexplicable chill permeated the air.

“And… and then what happened?” Gu Muchu’s pause made Ji Yuran’s clenched hands tighten further. Her voice rose in pitch, her heart pounding violently against her ribs.

She was nervous.

As Gu Muchu spoke, she was enveloped in a halo of sunlight. The sunlight combed through her hair, rendering it neatly translucent, yet it couldn’t dispel the gloom and melancholy that clung to her.

“And then… you sent me to prison.” Gu Muchu shrugged, a faint smile escaping her lips, as if utterly indifferent to the dream’s ending, even betraying a hint of secret pleasure in her tone.

She didn’t want to reveal too many details, not just because she dreaded facing the distant future, but also because she didn’t want to burden Ji Yuran’s heart with heavy guilt.

It was all in the past. The Gu Muchu of that time was dead, and the two of them were getting along well enough now, weren’t they?

Whenever Ji Yuran questioned her sacrifices, Gu Muchu would patiently explain them again and again, no matter how many times she was asked.

This flimsy explanation failed to satisfy Ji Yuran’s curiosity. After a moment of silence, seeing there was no more to tell, she asked, “Just that?”

Gu Muchu opened the trunk and placed the two large bags she had just bought inside, teasing, “What did you expect?”

Ji Yuran choked, clearly stumped. Remembering Gu Muchu’s fate in the dream, a hollow ache settled in her heart.

Gu Muchu’s expression remained calm as she efficiently organized the groceries, showing no sign of being affected by the “dream” she had mentioned.

Ji Yuran’s gaze followed her, and she pursed her lips uncomfortably. “You actually believe in dreams?” she asked, her tone conveying a subtle attempt to reassure herself.

“And you believe what I say?” Gu Muchu closed the trunk with a thud, the sound abruptly dispelling the earlier tension. It was as if her previous words had been nothing more than a casual joke.

Ji Yuran climbed into the passenger seat, looking distracted.

The supermarket was just a short walk from their apartment building, but both women were eager to stay in the air-conditioned car a little longer, so they drove the rest of the way home.

Sensing the turmoil in Ji Yuran’s mind, Gu Muchu gently reassured her, “Don’t dwell on it.”

“So naive,” she added. “You were so wary just moments ago, like a little rabbit.”

“I wasn’t…” Ji Yuran protested weakly, her voice trailing off as her confidence faltered.

For a fleeting moment, she had indeed believed Gu Muchu’s words.

“Don’t believe everything people tell you,” Gu Muchu warned, glancing at Ji Yuran. “Protect yourself, okay?”

The warning sounded deeply ironic coming from her lips.

After all, Gu Muchu was the one who had hurt her the most.

Ji Yuran leaned back in the passenger seat, her throat tight and her chest feeling constricted.

Back home, Gu Muchu carried two large bags into the kitchen, meticulously sorting the frozen and fresh foods into the refrigerator. She placed two pears on the counter.

Ji Yuran stood at the kitchen doorway, hesitating whether to offer help, but Gu Muchu had already finished organizing everything. Sensing the gaze on her, the Alpha turned to look.

Ji Yuran quickly turned her back, reaching for a mug on the dining table and pretending to pour water.

Gu Muchu noticed these small movements. Her eyes curved into a smile as she called out, “I’m making you rock sugar pear soup. Go watch some TV on the sofa first.”

Her tone was so natural that Ji Yuran’s grip tightened on the mug handle. She casually replied with an “Oh.”

Back when they lived together, Ji Yuran had always been the one cooking. Gu Muchu, a pampered heiress who had never lifted a finger in the kitchen, would never have allowed herself to be tainted by the smell of cooking oil.

After a long, tiring day, Alpha would collapse on the sofa, waiting for Ji Yuran to handle everything.

When Gu Muchu mentioned stewing rock sugar pears for her earlier, Ji Yuran was still in disbelief. Even as Gu Muchu entered the kitchen, she remained convinced she’d be called in to help.

Can she really manage this alone?

Ji Yuran sat skeptically on the sofa, casually turning on the wall-mounted LCD TV. The channel that appeared was playing a film starring Gu Muchu.

In the spy thriller, Gu Muchu wore a sleek, elegant qipao that perfectly accentuated the Alpha’s graceful curves. Her face, lightly powdered, resembled a pure, unadorned lotus blossom.

A truly skilled actor conveys psychological depth through subtle glances and restrained movements, breathing life into their characters rather than relying on exaggerated expressions or over-the-top styling.

Gu Muchu was undoubtedly a brilliant actress, which explained why her reign as Best Actress remained unchallenged for so long.

Yet Ji Yuran had vaguely heard that the head of the Gu Family disapproved of her pursuing this career path.

The film’s filter bathed Gu Muchu in a hazy, ambiguous aura. Under the dim lighting, the woman picked up a pipe, tapped it against the table, and flashed a seductive smile—a stark contrast to her usual dignified demeanor.

In the film’s old-fashioned, gramophone-like quality, Gu Muchu exuded an indescribable sense of distance.

Ji Yuran didn’t like it.

Her thoughts scattered wildly, and she suddenly remembered Gu Muchu leaning close to her in the car, carefully and attentively unfastening the buckle at the back of her baseball cap. She could still faintly recall the Alpha’s dominant pheromone scent from that moment…

At this thought, Ji Yuran’s ears flushed, and a strange tightness surged in her chest. She hastily grabbed the remote from the coffee table and switched channels, as if defying someone.

Gu Muchu, busy in the kitchen, remained unaware of what was happening outside. She meticulously peeled a snow pear, the paper-thin skin spiraling off to reveal the grainy flesh beneath.

Her knife skills were impeccable. She carefully removed the core, nibbled off any remaining fruit, and tossed the core into the trash.

Even after reaching the pinnacle of the entertainment industry in her previous life, she had never adopted the decadent habits of the upper class.

She rinsed the pear skin and flesh, then placed them in a pot with rock sugar, turning up the heat and stirring constantly with a spoon.

As the Omega’s frail, vulnerable figure flashed through her mind, Gu Muchu added a handful of goji berries.

The clear water began to bubble, gradually turning cloudy as the crimson berries scattered across the thickening broth.

Seeing it was nearly ready, Gu Muchu lowered the heat and let it simmer slowly. When the rock sugar pear stew in the steamer was done, she took a spoonful to taste. Finding it lacked the crisp, refreshing flavor she wanted, she removed the pear skins and returned the pot to the steamer.

This was the first time she was cooking for Ji Yuran, so she was being particularly patient.

The sound of the living room TV drifted in, and Gu Muchu vaguely recalled her days living alone. She was surprised to find that she actually liked things better now.

Simple yet warm.

A faint smile flickered in her eyes. Seeing the pear stew was ready, she opened the cupboard and took out a petal-shaped porcelain dish.

The glazed porcelain, still damp, slipped from her grasp and crashed to the floor with a sharp clang.

Fragments of the dish scattered across the floor. The sudden silence snapped her out of her reverie.

Frowning, Gu Muchu was about to sweep up the mess when she remembered the robot vacuum cleaner in the living room.

Sighing in resignation, she carefully turned over the shards and began picking them up by hand, placing them in the plastic bag from the supermarket.

Inevitably, her fingertips brushed against sharp edges. Soon, a small cut appeared on her smooth fingertip, a bead of bl00d forming at the tip.

The commotion naturally drew attention from the living room. Moments later, Ji Yuran appeared at the sliding door, leaning against the frame as she quietly observed Gu Muchu and the scattered mess.

Seeing that she had disturbed Ji Yuran, Gu Muchu pretended nothing had happened. “Ah… you can go back to watching TV. I can handle this.”

She had wanted to show off her skills to Ji Yuran, but now she had only embarrassed herself.

She sighed inwardly.

The Omega stared blankly at the bead of bl00d on Gu Muchu’s fingertip, her delicate and radiant face betraying none of her inner thoughts.

Gu Muchu’s words acted like a calming pill. Ji Yuran lingered, casting several deep glances at her before obediently leaving the kitchen.

Once Ji Yuran was gone, Gu Muchu finally relaxed. She didn’t want to give anyone the impression that she couldn’t handle things.

For some reason, a faint sense of disappointment flickered through her heart.

Gu Muchu silently gathered the scattered mess on the floor and was about to get up to tend to her wound when she heard the soft patter of footsteps approaching.

A pair of slender legs came into view. Gu Muchu looked up to see Ji Yuran, who had supposedly left, standing there.

The Omega had retreated halfway behind the glass door, her soft, fluffy hair cascading down to her waist. Her peach-blossom eyes darted nervously, avoiding Gu Muchu’s gaze, while her hands clutched a household first-aid kit, her expression flustered and uncertain.

She seemed to be hesitating, unsure whether to approach.