The Scumbag Alpha Movie Queen Pampers Her Wife - Chapter 6

Ji Yuran believed that since Gu Muchu had injured her hand because of her, she had a responsibility to help, not stand idly by.

She could clearly distinguish between what she liked and disliked, while maintaining a clear sense of right and wrong.

The Alpha’s gaze felt like cotton concealing silver needles, its downward scrutiny piercing through her heart, making Ji Yuran want to flee.

Gu Muchu, crouching on the ground, noticed the medical kit in her hand. Her expression momentarily froze before her lips curved into an elegant smile.

“Are you going to bandage me up?”

Ji Yuran detected a hint of teasing in Gu Muchu’s gentle, casual tone. Perhaps Gu Muchu’s natural charm made even discussing the weather sound flirtatious, her voice sending ripples through the heart.

The Omega fidgeted with the medical kit’s handle, her neatly trimmed nails as refreshing as her lemon and verbena pheromone. Ji Yuran lowered her head, staring at her toes, and murmured a barely audible “Mm.”

Gu Muchu didn’t catch the faint hum, but she saw Ji Yuran nod.

Her heart softened, as if ironed smooth, like sunlight melting into the clear, tranquil lake, enveloping her entire being in warmth.

How could she be so obedient?

Anxious not to keep Ji Yuran waiting, Gu Muchu quickly gathered the remaining porcelain shards into a plastic bag, tied it securely, and retrieved a label from a drawer to stick on it, bending down to write something.

After rinsing her wound with clean water, Gu Muchu went to the living room.

Ji Yuran followed closely behind. Once Gu Muchu settled on the sofa, Ji Yuran placed the first-aid kit on the coffee table, opened it, and took out a bandage.

The kit was meticulously organized, each item neatly arranged in its compartment. Ji Yuran had always been responsible for maintaining these details when Gu Muchu was away.

Sunlight filtered through the Omega’s thick, long lashes, casting shadows beneath her eyes. Gu Muchu watched as Ji Yuran carefully handed her the bandage, then recoiled as if shocked the moment their fingers brushed.

The sight only made Ji Yuran seem even more endearing. Relaxing against the cushions, Gu Muchu suddenly felt a playful urge to tease her.

Raising her injured right hand, Gu Muchu feigned distress, her bright voice tinged with mock grievance. “It’s a bit awkward for me to do this myself. Would you mind…?”

Her hand was slender and pale, with defined knuckles and faint blue veins visible beneath the sunlight. The crescent moons of her nails were tinged with a delicate pink.

Ji Yuran understood Gu Muchu’s unspoken words. Her expression stiffened as her gaze fell on the small bandage, then shifted to Gu Muchu’s finger. A sudden flush crept up her cheeks, as if some unspoken thought had taken root.

“You… you can’t even handle something this simple? And you want me to help you?”

Raising her voice to mask her vulnerability, Ji Yuran’s stammering words only betrayed her attempt to hide her true feelings. She resembled a little lion, claws extended in a show of bravado.

Gu Muchu wasn’t surprised by the rejection. Her eyes curved into a smile, a mischievous glint flashing across her face. She suspected Ji Yuran was inwardly struggling with whether to help her. While Ji Yuran was no longer openly hostile, her attitude remained far from warm. Asking her to bandage the wound—an act of intimacy—was indeed asking too much.

“I apologize for my forwardness,” Gu Muchu said, diffusing the tense atmosphere. The awkward moment passed, and her words offered Ji Yuran a graceful exit.

Ji Yuran had braced herself for Gu Muchu’s anger. Though she had rejected Gu Muchu’s advances before, this was the first time she had been so blunt and unyielding. Yet Gu Muchu showed no anger, maintaining a polite demeanor that only made Ji Yuran feel unreasonable.

The little Omega twisted the hem of her skirt, a sudden pang of guilt washing over her. Helping with a bandage isn’t a big deal. When did I become so fussy?

In the past, when Gu Muchu was being forceful, she would make Ji Yuran do her makeup. Gu Muchu disliked Ji Yuran’s aesthetic, but she still wanted to humiliate her by forcing her to repeatedly apply and wipe off lipstick, watching Ji Yuran reluctantly bend over despite her unwillingness to submit.

Gu Muchu would stare at her with brazen scrutiny, as if Ji Yuran were prey she was certain to capture. At those times, Ji Yuran felt like a commodity being appraised, a feeling that left her deeply uncomfortable.

But the Gu Muchu before her now was different.

She treated Ji Yuran with such humility. It was precisely this polite distance that made Ji Yuran feel respected, as if they were standing on equal footing. This newfound sense of confidence allowed her to make choices from the heart, without fear.

“I didn’t mean to sound dismissive,” Ji Yuran said, her voice strained. “I really do like your snow pear stewed with rock sugar… Thank you.”

With those words finally out, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She hated owing favors, especially to Gu Muchu, always fearing the Alpha would demand repayment.

Ji Yuran still harbored such a negative view of Gu Muchu.

The Omega’s thank you was barely audible, easily overlooked. She wasn’t particularly skilled at expressing her emotions.

“You like it already, even before tasting it?” Gu Muchu’s words were easily misinterpreted, yet she herself seemed utterly sincere.

Most of the time, Gu Muchu knew when to stop. She didn’t enjoy crude jokes, but seeing Ji Yuran’s flustered reaction gave her heart a secret little peck.

To ease the Omega’s embarrassment, Gu Muchu added, “I’m very happy you like it.”

The “it” here naturally referred to the rock sugar pear soup, a casual remark with no hidden meaning.

Ji Yuran didn’t sense anything amiss, but the moment she realized Gu Muchu had called her out for her careless words, she mentally berated herself for her loose tongue. She bit her lower lip, desperately searching for a way out.

It was too late to take back her words now, and her emotions swung wildly. The air seemed to thicken, pressing down on her chest and making it hard to breathe.

Unlike the Alpha’s earlier, intangible pressure, this time it was her own anxiety causing the suffocation.

She couldn’t stay here with Gu Muchu; she needed to leave and calm down.

Ji Yuran took a half-step back. Gu Muchu noticed the subtle movement, her gaze shifting from the bandage to Ji Yuran’s face, her eyes asking what was wrong.

The Alpha was stunningly beautiful, her soft voice and gentle manner like a feather brushing against Ji Yuran’s heart. A tingling numbness spread through her body. She quickly averted her gaze, stammering, “Don’t look at me! Look at the bandage. I’ll go throw out the trash.”

Seeming pleased with her clever excuse to escape, Ji Yuran didn’t wait for Gu Muchu to reply before turning and hurrying toward the kitchen.

What’s so interesting about a bandage?

Gu Muchu chuckled, her amusement fading as she noticed the Omega’s flushed earlobes. Ah, she’s embarrassed.

Fine dust motes danced in the air, softening the contours of Gu Muchu’s profile and highlighting her high, straight nose. A faint, refreshing scent of lemon and verbena lingered in the air—Ji Yuran’s unique fragrance.

Gu Muchu stared at the bandage for a long moment before slowly bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply.

Ji Yuran’s warmth still clung to it, along with a faint hint of gardenia—the same scent as her shampoo, creating an inexplicable intimacy.

Gu Muchu’s mind flashed to Ji Yuran’s flushed cheeks and darting, evasive eyes. She rubbed her thumb across the bandage before tucking it into a hidden compartment in her wallet.

Then, she pulled another bandage from the first-aid kit and carefully wrapped it around her index finger.

Ji Yuran, fearing her pheromone barrier had failed, trembled at the overwhelming presence of Gu Muchu’s pheromones.

She hurried into the kitchen, glanced at the trash bag on the floor, and swiftly picked it up.

Gu Muchu had injured herself while making pear stew for her. Ji Yuran felt compelled to do something within her capabilities. She had refused help earlier, choosing to contribute in her own way.

Normally, Ji Yuran only needed to leave the trash bag by the door, and someone would collect it daily. But needing some fresh air, she carried the bag to the entryway, preparing to go downstairs and clear her head.

The person sitting in the living room heard the movement but didn’t come to stop her. Instead, they called out, “I’ve kept the rock sugar pear soup warm for you. Be careful.”

Ji Yuran didn’t reply, her hand pressed against the doorknob. The moment she opened the door, a wave of heat and the drone of cicadas rushed in, and her figure vanished quickly from the doorway.

Light, leisurely footsteps echoed through the stairwell. The ceramic tiles reflected her silhouette, while the semi-transparent glass distorted the summer scenery outside. The stifling heat around Ji Yuran began to dissipate. As she carried the trash bag, she suddenly remembered seeing Gu Muchu lean over the plastic bag in the kitchen and write something on it.

She stopped, lifted the bag containing the porcelain shards to eye level, and rotated it. There, she spotted a palm-sized label.

Gu Muchu’s handwriting was elegant and neat, as approachable as her softened, less sharp demeanor. Ji Yuran glanced at the label:

Contains porcelain shards. Handle with care to avoid injury.

This was an old habit of Gu Muchu’s. Before she became famous, she lived in an aging residential complex near her company. When taking out the trash, she often saw elderly people rummaging through the bins for usable items.

To prevent accidental injuries, she would carefully place broken glass fragments into separate trash bags and label them as a warning.

These were trivial gestures, but to Ji Yuran, they seemed extraordinary. She couldn’t imagine Gu Muchu, with her aloof and superior demeanor, ever doing such things.

Yet the Alpha before her now was gentle and considerate, her every movement radiating a completely different aura from before.

Ji Yuran inexplicably recalled the dream Gu Muchu had once shared. She had initially dismissed it as a joke, but now it seemed the Alpha had taken it seriously.

In the dream’s ending, Ji Yuran had sent Gu Muchu to prison.

For such an arrogant Alpha to believe in a dream and willingly change her behavior because of it was utterly baffling. Ji Yuran refused to believe that these small acts alone could have caused such a dramatic overnight transformation in Gu Muchu’s personality.

She remained skeptical of Gu Muchu’s explanation. Though she couldn’t fathom what the Alpha had experienced, she had to admit that Gu Muchu was indeed slowly becoming a better person.

The air in the stairwell was stagnant, stifling and uncomfortable. Ji Yuran stood on the steps, gazing through the glass at the lush greenery beyond, the gloom that had clung to her for days finally lifting.

If those words are true, she thought, I wouldn’t mind burying the hatchet. Then, when the time is right, we can part ways and find new homes.

She had made up her mind.