Transmigrated as the Disabled Alpha of the Yandere Film Empress - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

In mid-August, the southern city had just endured a heavy downpour. The air was thick with mist and dampness.

At the grand villa’s back entrance, the lights shone brightly. The door of a parked Porsche was open. Fine rain fell steadily onto the dark, damp bluestone pavement.

Song Yanrong sat by the car door, her hand resting on the wheelchair’s armrest. Beside her, a stern bodyguard in a suit held an umbrella over her, shielding her from the misty drizzle.

Not far away, a beautiful woman in a rose-pink strappy evening gown stood trembling in the humid air, looking at her in panic.

The gown clung tightly to the woman’s body, her graceful curves like a bold oil painting, clearly visible.

A faint rose scent wafted through the air. Song Yanrong’s throat tightened, and something itched inexplicably. Her brows furrowed—was this a spring dream?

She was only 27. Ever since her company had stabilized, her desire had indeed become more easily stirred…

But to dream so vividly of a woman, especially one so beautiful it left her stunned—this was a first.

The next moment, her fingers touched the wheelchair—cold and real. She paused, curled her fingers tightly, her nails piercing her skin with pain.

Her heart thudded violently.

“Where are you taking me?”

The woman’s trembling voice was soft and fragile.

It was as if the dream crashed into reality—Song Yanrong’s mind suddenly sobered.

This wasn’t a dream.

But her last memory was collapsing from hypoglycemia and her assistant taking her to a private hospital.

She looked at the woman. Somehow, this scene felt oddly familiar.

Suddenly, a sharp buzzing pierced her eardrums. The people and surroundings in her vision began spinning violently—and unfamiliar memories, like a tidal wave, surged into her brain.

It was like forcibly grafting something that didn’t belong to her into her body.

The process was brief. Once the pain subsided, her thoughts cleared, and she finally realized where the familiarity came from—this was a scene from a book she once skimmed through called “Drowning”, an A/B/O novel.

One of the villains in the novel had the same name as her, which had left a deep impression.

In the story, the female lead, Su Jia, was taken in by the Song family after her parents died and her company went bankrupt. She was even arranged to be engaged to the Song family’s eldest daughter, Song Hanshuang. Everyone thought her hardship was finally over, but no one knew—the Song family was Su Jia’s real hell.

After enduring countless torments, Su Jia completely blackened and destroyed everything related to the Song family—not even a dog was spared.

And the novel’s beginning? It started on the night of the engagement—

When Su Jia was taken by the twisted and infamous disabled third daughter of the Song family.

Song Yanrong lowered her gaze. Her pale, slender fingers moved to her legs and dug her nails hard into her skin again.

Then again.

“……”

As expected, she was now the infamous, twisted, and disabled third young miss of the Song family.

In the novel, the original host had been spoiled from childhood, developing an unbridled, lawless personality. After a car accident left her paralyzed, she became even worse—withdrawn, cruel, and misanthropic.

One of her infamous acts? Snatching her sister-in-law on the night of her engagement, abusing her, and then throwing her out on the street.

Of course, as a villain who abused the female lead… her ending was: limbs broken and dumped onto a remote medical ship.

Song Yanrong: “…”

Her brain buzzed. What heinous karma had she accumulated to deserve this fate?

Her eyes landed again on the beautiful woman.

Without a doubt, this stunningly beautiful woman was the yet-to-be-blackened female lead—Su Jia.

Su Jia wobbled unsteadily, teary peach blossom eyes filled with fear as she looked at her. A light breeze lifted her soft brown curls, some strands wet with rain stuck to her cheeks, adding a pitiable charm.

Her soaked rose gown clung to her curves. The plunging neckline accentuated her fair, tempting skin.

Under the dim golden light, the red stood out, the white was dazzling—a blend of innocence and seduction.

The skirt swayed with the breeze around her legs.

Song Yanrong’s gaze lingered on the hem of the dress for a few seconds. Suddenly, her neck seemed to throb, pulsing again and again—like something inside her was being excited.

The description of the original host and the female lead also came flooding back—

The basement door closed.

Song Yanrong wheeled slowly up to Su Jia, who lay on the ground, eyes filled with fear, her delicate hands tied behind her back.

She glanced at the red pinpricks on the omega’s neck—needle marks, with faint traces of bl00d. Her phoenix eyes lit up with excitement.

She called softly, “Sister-in-law.”

Then took out a pair of scissors from behind her…

Su Jia, lying on the ground, couldn’t move. Her tears streamed. Her dress was cut open between her tightly-pressed legs.

She was like a fallen bird by the roadside, waiting for pain in despair.

In the basement, only the sound of tearing fabric remained.

…

Song Yanrong snapped out of it, gasping as if drowning. She exhaled the burning air in her chest, instinctively reaching for the rosewood bracelet on her wrist—but found nothing.

Only then did she realize—this wasn’t her body.

Her throat and breath were unsettled. The reaction just now wasn’t just the memory she had seen—she could feel a twisted, alien emotion within her.

That sick emotion wasn’t her own—it was something left behind by the original host’s psyche. It had affected her.

Song Yanrong took a deep breath to calm herself.

“Miss, someone’s coming,” the bodyguard beside her reminded.

Suppressing the agitation in her heart, Song Yanrong thought calmly—according to the plot, the original host was here to take Su Jia away.

Thankfully, she still had time to correct things. She didn’t need to get involved with the female lead.

Let’s stay out of each other’s lives, shall we?

Avoiding the wet body, Song Yanrong said, “Miss Su, do as you please.”

Her voice was slightly hoarse but calm.

“What?”
“?”

Why did she hear… disappointment?

She looked again and saw Su Jia still wearing a pitiful expression, though there now seemed to be a trace of hesitation.

She thought she must have misheard.

So she repeated, “I said, you can go.”

Su Jia froze.

…

This development was unexpected for Su Jia.

The light and her long lashes hid the depth and coldness in her peach blossom eyes. She looked at Song Yanrong.

Under the streetlight.

The alpha sat quietly in her wheelchair. Dark hair, a black off-shoulder gown—apart from her pale face and shoulders, she nearly blended into the shadows.

Looking like this—who would believe she was the infamously scummy alpha?

Song Yanrong’s expression didn’t look like she was joking. She really seemed ready to let her go.

Realizing this, Su Jia felt… complicated.

A few days ago, she started having strange dreams.

Last night, when the Song family detained her “for her own care,” she fully awakened—realizing she was just a character in a book.

She’d suffered 23 years in this world, only to realize that her every joy, sorrow, and fate had all been predetermined.

After awakening, she sat silently by the window in a white lace nightgown, then climbed onto the balcony railing, feet dangling.

She looked up. Sunlight filtered through her fingers, burning her eyelids. She squinted, realizing she’d never felt sunlight so intensely.

Maids below screamed, thinking she was trying to jump.

She smiled dryly. The original Su Jia in this world was already dead.

From now on, she would live for herself.

If she couldn’t live well, then no one else should.

Unfortunately, her awakened knowledge was limited. But she knew—if this engagement happened, her nightmare would begin.

She hadn’t yet figured out the perfect way out, so she had been preparing to go scorched earth with the Song family.

But then Song Yanrong unexpectedly appeared tonight, about to take her away—suddenly, she had another plan.

Though disabled and volatile, Song Yanrong was also the old matriarch’s favorite and owned 30% of Song Corporation’s shares.

Su Jia didn’t know what the original plan for tonight was, but her instincts told her—Song Hanshuang likely intended to force her.

Compared to the cunning Song Hanshuang, Song Yanrong was easier to manipulate. And importantly—being disabled made her less of a physical threat.

So she decided to play along—for now—and leave with Song Yanrong.

But then… Song Yanrong told her to leave?

She was letting her go?

How could she not be disappointed?

Su Jia stood in place, lashes casting shadows over her eyes as she thought…

To Song Yanrong, it seemed Su Jia suspected her of having ulterior motives. Just then, a woman hurried out of the villa.

From memory, this woman was Song Hanshuang’s assistant.

Afraid of Song Yanrong, she kept her distance and said:

“Miss Su, what are you doing out here? Third Miss, the banquet is about to start. The old matriarch and the eldest miss are still waiting for you.”

Hearing that, Su Jia quickly took a few steps toward Song Yanrong—seemingly more afraid of that voice than of her.

It was an instinctive, fearful reaction.

Before she could think, the scent of roses mixed with faint alcohol hit Song Yanrong’s nose. The next second—thud—a shadow fell at her feet.

She looked down.

The woman had collapsed on the bluestone ground, her fair skin striking against the dark stone—black and white in stark contrast.

Rain fell on Su Jia’s face. She was soaked.

Her reddened eyes looked like rain-drenched peach blossoms—evoking pity and desire.

Her face was too beautiful. Song Yanrong instinctively reached out but then hesitated.

She shouldn’t let her guard down.

The rain grew heavier, loud on the umbrella above.

Yet she still heard the woman’s soft, trembling voice:

“Take me with you.”

Song Yanrong froze. “?”

Had she misheard?

Su Jia looked up and grabbed her ankle, as if summoning all her courage.

“Please take me, Miss Song. I’ll listen to whatever you say. Just help me.”

A shock ran through Song Yanrong’s nerves, but she forced herself to stay calm.

Her gaze dropped—and she noticed the red marks on Su Jia’s delicate shoulder.

Under the heavy mist, Su Jia looked heartbreakingly fragile.

Was this… Song Hanshuang’s doing?

In the Song family, Su Jia interacted more with Song Hanshuang than with the original host.

In the novel, Song Hanshuang was ruthless—just as bad as the original host.

So things were already bad for Su Jia?

That would explain her desperation.

But right now, Song Yanrong didn’t care.

Her gaze moved down to Su Jia’s arms—unable to clearly see the hands gripping her ankle.

More than Su Jia’s beauty or her initiative, what startled Song Yanrong most was—

Her numb, unfeeling legs… had felt the icy cold of Su Jia’s hands.

Her heart pounded violently. The pressure of Su Jia’s grip, the contact of her legs on the wheelchair, even the earlier pain from her self-inflicted pinch—she could feel it all.

Su Jia noticed her staring and withdrew her hand.

Song Yanrong: “…”

Her 27 years of composure nearly cracked—had she imagined the feeling? The moment Su Jia let go, her legs were numb again.

She looked at Su Jia.

Rain slid down her pale face. Her peach blossom eyes looked up at her, pleading and helpless—soft and delicate.

Clearly, she feared Song Hanshuang deeply and didn’t want to go back.

Song Yanrong wasn’t a soft-hearted person.

She hadn’t intended to get involved with the female lead—but now, she figured… maybe getting involved wasn’t really her fault.

Su Jia wanted to escape. She wanted to go with her.

Song Yanrong didn’t want this delicate woman to suffer more—and she wanted to confirm if her regained sensation had been real.

In a way, they each needed something from the other.

“You really want to come with me?” she asked.

“Please,” Su Jia replied tearfully.

Song Yanrong bent slightly, her arm and palm extended into the rain.

She reached her hand toward Su Jia.

“I’ll take you with me.”