The Scumbag Alpha Movie Queen Pampers Her Wife - Chapter 7

When Ji Yuran returned, Gu Muchu was busy in the kitchen, a bandage wrapped around her fingertip.

As she approached, the sliding door reflected her slender figure, gradually overlapping with the Alpha inside, creating a subtle synchronicity.

A few strands of Gu Muchu’s hair framed her forehead, adding to her gentle, serene aura. Hearing the movement behind her, she turned and met Ji Yuran’s gaze, a smile slowly spreading across her face.

“You’re back?” Gu Muchu said as she carried the Rock Sugar Stewed Pear to the square dining table. Avoiding using her injured finger, her movements were slightly stiff and awkward.

The thick, golden syrup cradled bright red Goji Berries, with a cored pear nestled in the center, steaming gently. The sweet, cloying aroma filled the living room, even mingling with the cool air from the central air conditioning.

The scene evoked the feeling of returning home after a long day, where a thoughtful family member had prepared a warm meal, waiting for you to take the first bite.

Though the comparison was inappropriate, Ji Yuran couldn’t help her wandering thoughts. She nodded and walked to the other end of the square table, where Gu Muchu pushed the stewed pear toward her.

“Try my handiwork.”

The bandage on Gu Muchu’s fingertip seemed like a badge of honor. She deliberately flexed her finger, her tone teasing, “If you don’t finish it, this injury will have been for nothing.”

Subconsciously, Ji Yuran believed Gu Muchu would refuse her request, leaving her no choice but to resort to a near-moral blackmail. Gu Muchu had hoped to ease their strained relationship naturally, but facing Ji Yuran’s stubborn pride, she knew she needed to take the initiative.

Yet Ji Yuran was, at heart, a good girl.

Beneath her facade of strength lay a vulnerability that could melt at the slightest touch, even when confronted by an enemy who had once oppressed her.

Gu Muchu is such a drama queen, Ji Yuran thought.

But to her surprise, she found herself thoroughly enjoying the performance.

A transparent tablecloth covered the square dining table, its embroidered edges adorned with intricate, symmetrical patterns—a style Gu Muchu clearly favored. The fine, delicate embroidery felt exquisite to the touch.

The two women sat across from each other at the long table, their gazes meeting whenever they looked up. Ji Yuran felt a flicker of unease. Her fingertip traced the rim of her porcelain spoon as she stirred aimlessly, watching the syrup cling to the edge, half-dripping, half-suspended.

Gu Muchu had thoughtfully cooled the Rock Sugar Stewed Pear to the perfect temperature. She rested her chin on her clasped hands, as if watching Ji Yuran eat were a pleasure in itself.

Ji Yuran lowered her head, her bangs obscuring the strange emotions flickering in her eyes. Finally, she scooped up a spoonful of the sweet broth and slowly brought it to her lips. Her thick lashes trembled, and her body tensed slightly.

Gu Muchu’s eyes shone with clear anticipation as she waited for Ji Yuran’s reaction. The Omega savored the lingering sweet aroma, offering a sincere assessment: “Not bad.”

Hearing such a positive remark from the notoriously difficult Ji Yuran, Gu Muchu’s gaze froze momentarily. Her lips curved into a smile, and her bright, clear eyes reflected two tiny figures.

“If you like it, I’ll make it for you often.”

Her earnest expression, paired with her shimmering eyes, left Ji Yuran momentarily dazed.

After a quick glance, Ji Yuran swiftly lowered her gaze, picking up the porcelain spoon and slowly scraping at the caramelized pear, keeping her movements as small as possible.

Knowing her every action was being scrutinized, she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of Gu Muchu. It was like the awkwardness she felt as a student facing her homeroom teacher, always striving to present her best self.

Ji Yuran couldn’t quite understand her own feelings. Perhaps the lingering psychological shadow cast by Gu Muchu hadn’t fully dissipated, leaving her movements still tentative and cautious.

The silence stretched between them until Ji Yuran’s porcelain spoon clinked against the bowl’s rim, producing a sharp, jarring sound.

As if receiving a signal, she spoke up, her voice devoid of emotion: “You could just hire a housekeeper, you know.”

Gu Muchu, despite being a wealthy heiress, was an unlikely candidate for domestic chores. Hiring a housekeeper would give both of them a much-needed break.

Yet when Ji Yuran suggested it, Gu Muchu lowered her lashes and replied softly, “No, I don’t think so.”

It sounded like a casual remark, but it also carried the weight of careful consideration.

Ji Yuran knew Gu Muchu disliked intrusions into her personal space, so the rejection was expected.

But Gu Muchu’s explanation caught her off guard.

“I don’t want our relationship to become public,” Gu Muchu said, her voice so soft it seemed lost in some distant memory. They were currently in a secret marriage, and while housekeeping agencies typically valued client confidentiality, no secret remains hidden forever.

She wanted to minimize the impact of their hidden marriage on Ji Yuran.

For a young, beautiful Omega to be rumored to be kept by someone would haunt Ji Yuran’s entire career, becoming an indelible stain. In contrast, for Alphas, such scandals were often seen as badges of honor, as if these affairs, like wealth and power, had become measures of personal worth. This world was rife with decadence and unspoken rules, and the Original Self had once benefited from these very rules.

But Gu Muchu was different.

She and Ji Yuran were kindred spirits, having clawed their way to success through relentless struggle. Each step had been like treading on thin ice, the bitterness of their journey masked by the label of “natural talent.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Gu Muchu added softly.

Ji Yuran showed no reaction, calmly picking up a piece of stewed pear and placing it in her mouth. She chewed slowly, savoring the sweetness as it spread through her palate before speaking deliberately.

“Then I’ll just keep doing things the way I used to.”

The Omega’s voice was soft and languid, her words sounding as if they were being drawn out from beneath her tongue. Yet beneath the surface lay a chilling stillness, like the silent crack of winter ice.

Gu Muchu was slow to react, only realizing the implication of “the way I used to” a moment later. Her mouth suddenly felt dry.

She doesn’t mean anything by it. Ji Yuran is misunderstanding.

After a moment’s thought, Gu Muchu decided an explanation was necessary. She paused, then said softly, “I’ll share the housework with you.”

Ji Yuran looked up at Gu Muchu, her eyes still holding a frosty, flower-like chill.

“From now on, I’ll help with the housework,” Gu Muchu repeated, afraid Ji Yuran hadn’t heard her clearly. This time, each word struck Ji Yuran’s heart like a raindrop.

Ji Yuran opened her mouth to speak, but in the end, she simply picked up her porcelain spoon and finished the remaining half of the pear.

How could Gu Muchu, such an arrogant and controlling Alpha, ever deign to lower herself to such mundane tasks?

The words seemed to carry a magical weight, and against her better judgment, Ji Yuran found herself believing them.

Seeing Ji Yuran’s obedient and docile demeanor, Gu Muchu’s heart suddenly sank.

The cold air from the standing air conditioner made the drooping leaves of the potted plants sway gently. The two women sat in silence across the wooden table. Gu Muchu was afraid to check her phone, fearing she would find she hadn’t replied to Lu Panwei yet.

First Light of Dusk: Okay.

After typing the word, she turned off her phone screen and said to Ji Yuran, “I need to go back to the Gu Family Old Residence this weekend. I might be late getting back.”

The image of her Alpha mother as a fierce and domineering figure was deeply ingrained in her mind. Just thinking about the original novel’s descriptions gave Gu Muchu a headache.

She hadn’t figured out how to handle Gu Yiqiong yet. She could still get away with vague answers with Ji Yuran, whom she hadn’t known for long, but her family members were bound by bl00d.

Unaware of Gu Muchu’s inner turmoil, Ji Yuran heard this statement, which sounded like a report, and her porcelain spoon stirred faint ripples in the bowl. Her fidgeting increased.

“I understand,” she replied, the words of concern catching in her throat and twisting into something else.

She’s just an adult, and an Alpha at that. Why bother saying anything more?

“Mm, just wanted to let you know in advance, in case you couldn’t find me,” Gu Muchu said, rising from the wooden chair with a dull scrape against the floor. She reached for the empty bowl, realizing her words might sound presumptuous.

Sure enough, when she looked up, the Omega’s expression was unreadable. Their gazes met briefly in the air before Ji Yuran, embarrassed, looked away first.

Regaining her composure, Gu Muchu let out a soft, feather-light laugh that, in the quiet room, sounded particularly jarring. Her casual remark now seemed like a flirtatious “Remember to miss me,” leaving both of them feeling awkward.

Ji Yuran’s earlobes burned, especially after Gu Muchu’s laughter, giving her the unsettling feeling that the Alpha had achieved some secret victory. She glared fiercely at Gu Muchu before standing up and stalking toward the living room.

The faint sound of running water mingled with the television’s blare. Ji Yuran’s eyes reflected the flickering images, but her ears unconsciously perked up. She fidgeted with the remote, flipping it back and forth, glancing sideways at the kitchen as she replayed the earlier scene in her mind. With forced restraint, she turned her head away, her lips pressed into a thin line.

So annoying.

The weekend weather was gloomy, with thick clouds completely obscuring the sunlight. A brisk wind rustled through the broad palm leaves, creating a rhythmic whooshing sound.

Sensing the impending downpour, Gu Muchu wisely grabbed an umbrella from the entryway. As she turned to leave, she felt a burning gaze on her back. She glanced back to see the master bedroom door closing swiftly.

Gu Muchu’s expression softened. “I’m leaving now!” she called out, though she wasn’t sure who she was addressing.

Silence was her only reply.

Undeterred by the lack of response, Gu Muchu put on her sunglasses and quietly closed the door behind her.

The Gu Family Old Residence was located in the outskirts of the city, quite a distance from the downtown area. While the family chauffeur had once made transportation convenient, the Original Self had moved out, citing “the swarms of mosquitoes in the garden on summer nights” as her reason, and rarely returned to visit.

Gu Muchu drove through lush, neatly trimmed trees, ascending a winding road. As she rounded a bend, the faint outline of the estate gradually emerged from the dense foliage.

The iron gates stood wide open. She drove into the estate, circled the fountain, and parked smoothly in front of the entrance.

A woman in a qipao stood on the stone steps, her dark hair loosely pinned up. Time had not diminished her beauty, though her face had lost some of its youthful vitality, gradually settling into an aura of quiet depth.

Seeing Gu Muchu arrive, the woman let out a sigh of relief, but a flicker of unease still danced in her eyes.

The car door opened, and the Alpha stepped out, bending slightly to gather her delicate, smooth hair behind her.

Gu Muchu’s tall, slender figure was accentuated by her chiffon floral maxi dress with ruffled hems. As she walked toward them, the skirt billowed like elusive smoke in the wind. The humid air prompted her to drape an ice silk cardigan over her shoulders.

Her mid-heeled shoes clicked against the stone steps until she stood before the woman, who snapped out of her reverie and scrutinized Gu Muchu from head to toe before taking her hand. “Muchu, why are you so late?”

Gu Muchu smiled warmly, folded her sunglasses, and tucked them into her saddlebag. Letting Lu Panwei hold her hand, they entered the house together. She murmured, “Traffic was terrible.”

This was, of course, an excuse. She had been composing herself in the car, strategizing how to handle the Gu Family’s matriarch.

Lu Panwei frowned. Gu Muchu bore a striking resemblance to her, yet had inherited Gu Yiqiong’s sharp edge. The woman sighed softly and deliberately slowed her pace, reminding her gently, “Aunt Gu has been waiting since seven o’clock to see you.” She glanced at her watch, noting the time had already passed ten. “Please don’t provoke her anger again, understand?”

The Original Self had always paid lip service to Lu Panwei’s gentle nature, and Gu Muchu was no different. After offering a few perfunctory words, she scoffed inwardly.

If Gu Yiqiong doesn’t try to trip me up, I’d be happy to get along with her.