Transmigrated as the Disabled Alpha of the Yandere Film Empress - Chapter 42
Chapter 42
Evening at the Song Family Villa
In the glowing sunset, the mansion looked like an orange-hued ancient castle—deep and atmospheric. When Song Yanrong and Su Jia arrived, all family members had gathered. Ying Junmei was seated alone to one side, Song Qi and Song Hanshuang occupied the opposite sofa, Zhou Yuan sat in her own single chair, and Song Lü was descending the stairs on hearing their arrival.
Yanrong surveyed the table—every seat, every expression told its own story. It felt like a tableau titled “Everyone with Their Own Agenda.”
With everyone present, they began dinner. Ying Junmei seemed particularly pleased. Seeing her daughter back, she cheerfully served lotus root to Song Qi and urged everyone to eat immediately—these dishes were specially prepared for Yanrong’s return and had been being prepared since last night.
Hanshuang remarked, “No wonder we didn’t see you last night—why not let the servants prepare? Auntie, don’t tire yourself.” Song Qi smiled gently and replied, “It’s no trouble, as long as you like it.”
Although discerning, Yanrong found the dishes warmer and more sincere than usual, mirroring Song Qi’s soft temperament. She complimented the meal and asked if Song Qi would leave the day after tomorrow. Song Qi confirmed that was the plan, barring any emergencies.
Song Qi, less acquainted with Su Jia’s taste, placed a slice of marinated beef onto Su Jia’s plate. Despite being under the weather, Su Jia picked at it briefly. She caught Zhou Yuan’s surreptitious glare at Yanrong, and her abrupt smile faded.
Across the table, Zhou Yuan’s expression stiffened—and even Song Hanshuang offered a low warning: “You’d better behave.” Zhou Yuan snorted but fell silent, her hatred seething.
As the conversation lulled, Song Qi turned and asked Song Lü softly if the food was to his liking. Despite his stern silence, he replied with a curt “yes.” Qi managed a faint smile.
Ying Junmei looked dissatisfied—Song Lü rarely joined family events, seemed almost hostile to their surname, never acknowledged he was a Song. Two years ago, Ying Junmei even tried to arrange a marriage for him, but now she gave up after his refusal. She brightened the atmosphere by reminding him: “Clam soup was made just for you.” Hanshuang added: “We thought you wouldn’t come.”
Lü’s cold expression remained but he did not respond. Hanshuang prodded, also smiling: “Heard you’re dating—when’s he coming home?” Everyone, including Yanrong and Su Jia, tensed at this. Yanrong noted Su Jia’s eyes lingering on Song Qi—a shift from admiration to concern.
Song Qi’s poised smile faltered under the ceiling lights. She hesitated. “Lü’s in a relationship,” she said quietly. Lü offered a rare smile and simply said, “Thank you, Auntie.”
The room lightened slightly—until Ying Junmei brought up embarrassing gossip, suggesting maybe Song Qi should return to China. Qi suddenly stood, voice trembling: “Thank you, I’ve eaten,” and left. Lü followed silently.
Yanrong sighed inwardly: not one peaceful family meal. Still, she tried to change the mood: “Looks like everyone’s not enjoying these topics. How about I share something good?”
With two gone, she had a clear view of everyone else.
“I can’t remember much about the accident—but I’m starting to recall details,” she said slowly, pausing before meeting Hanshuang’s eyes. “The killer.”
Hanshuang’s brow shot up. “Who?”
Her question was too quick, too clean—showing more surprise than shock. Yanrong noticed a flash of tension on Ying Junmei’s face. But to her surprise, Zhou Yuan also showed a flicker of alarm.
At that moment, Su Jia interjected: “You said only fragments would return—not everything at once.”
It was a strange synchronicity. Yanrong nodded: “Yes, but soon.”
Su Jia suggested to inform their grandmother and Song Qi—they might help search. Yanrong replied calmly: “No, let me remember. It’ll come soon.”
Dinner ended abruptly. Yanrong and Su Jia headed upstairs to await responses—who would make the first move would mark suspicion.
In the elevator, Su Jia asked, “Did you see it?”
Yanrong answered, “Yes.”
Su Jia asked: “Is Ying Junmei really your grandmother?” Half in jest, but also sincere—her reaction to the word “killer” had been odd. Yanrong shook her head: “Not necessarily.”
She planned a DNA test. And even if they were related, it didn’t rule her out as a suspect—bl00d didn’t exclude betrayal.
On the third floor, they stopped at the room once belonging to the original character (the accident victim), now prepared as guest quarters.
Su Jia asked: “What about Zhou Yuan? You don’t suspect her?”
At Zhou Yuan’s name, Su Jia’s annoyance surfaced. She pushed Yanrong’s wheelchair and leaned in: “She seems too simple-minded for such machinations…but if she cares about you so much…”
Yanrong gently touched her brow in acknowledgment, prompting Su Jia to pause. Indeed, Zhou Yuan was someone who acted on impulse—but when Hanshuang defamed Yanrong, Zhou Yuan had instinctively defended her—loyalty colored by obsession. And maybe Zhou Yuan’s mother was pulling strings behind the scenes.
Su Jia remembered the circle of admirers Yanrong had once had. If she’d been Zhou Yuan…
A faint chill passed through Su Jia’s hand as she imagined being the one wheelchair-bound with Yanrong—her desire to possess grew palpable…
Her phone buzzed. She replied: “My agent sent a script contract. Miss Song, you’re amazing—please take a look.”
The scent of rose and wine drifted from Yanrong’s shoulder—tender and coquettish. Yanrong took the phone, and Su Jia studied the simple terms of the contract, noticing a loophole but unable to edit easily.
“I’ll send it to my phone and revise,” Yanrong said.
Su Jia glanced at a black swan painting and replied easily: “Okay.”
Then she paused, meeting Yanrong’s eyes.
Yanrong sensed it and softly asked: “Why am I noted as 0.01?”