Transmigrated as the Disabled Alpha of the Yandere Film Empress - Chapter 48

Chapter 48

 

Su Jia sent a message to Song Yanyong in the car.

 

Tonight, Song Lü seemed to have opened a floodgate of words. He talked a lot, but by the time he left, he had returned to his cold, stoic Dr. Song demeanor.

 

Su Jia’s emotions were a bit mixed. Perhaps influenced by Song Lü, for a brief moment, she also felt like she had a lot she wanted to say to Song Yanyong.

 

But when she opened the chat box, she didn’t know where to start.

 

Song Yanyong was still sitting in her office chair. She turned from the business card in her hand to her phone to check Su Jia’s message—it said she was coming to the company to pick her up.

 

Song Yanyong replied with a simple “Okay,” then found the number on the business card and dialed it.

 

Tan Qi.

 

She had found this lawyer’s business card in the drawer of the original owner’s room last time.

 

At the time, she found it strange.

 

Later, with everything going on, she hadn’t given it much thought.

 

But this time, after returning to the Song family and seeing the notes in the book The Montmartre Testament, especially the oppressive words written on the last page by the original owner, she became more certain of her suspicions.

 

She dialed the number.

 

…

 

Song Yanyong’s company was located in an office building near the CBD. On the glass of the building was a massive LED screen displaying the name YR Group.

 

In fact, that logo had only been lit up in recent days.

 

Just a month ago, this building was empty. Now, two floors were already filled with departments, and within just over a month, half of this thirty-story building had been occupied by employees. And with the expansion of its subsidiaries, that number continued to grow.

 

Su Jia got out of the car and looked up at the brightly lit skyscraper.

 

Unknowingly, Song Yanyong had already built such a strong business empire.

 

Occasionally, she would catch snippets of IPOs and financing during calls and meetings—even though Su Jia didn’t fully understand, she knew those terms had to do with going public.

 

Song Yanyong’s growth had been astonishing. She recalled when Song Yanyong calmly said to her: “It’s time for a new CEO in the Song family.”

 

Back then, Su Jia thought that while Yanyong was indeed smart, those words were nothing short of arrogant. Let alone Song Hanshuang’s long-standing control over the company, her backer, Ying Junmei, was not someone to be trifled with.

 

A grand ambition with no foreseeable timeline for realization.

 

But now—

 

The building stood tall and gleaming right before her eyes.

 

Not to mention that Yanyong still appeared publicly as someone with a disability, yet was already surrounded by admirers. Once her legs recovered… those women, those Omegas, would only increase.

 

For a fleeting moment, Su Jia had a wicked thought—if Song Yanyong’s legs never healed, would she always need her?

 

But that thought was quickly shattered by the glowing YR letters atop the building.

 

A heavy voice echoed within her heart, screaming wildly—

 

She wants Song Yanyong to be okay.

 

She wants her legs to recover soon.

 

Su Jia retracted her gaze and stepped up onto the building’s stairs.

 

She opened the office door.

 

The person in the wheelchair was facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, only turning around when she heard the door open.

 

Song Yanyong looked at the visitor, paused for two seconds, then curved her lips, saying, “Didn’t drink too much, did you?”

 

Su Jia closed the door and smiled, “Take a guess.”

 

As she approached, she noticed something off in Song Yanyong’s expression. Her heart sank slightly. She probed, “What’s wrong?”

 

Song Yanyong didn’t try to hide her emotions, so Su Jia easily sensed what was on her mind. She smiled faintly, turned back toward the bright cityscape.

 

Su Jia stood beside her, resting her fingers on Yanyong’s shoulder, her gaze lowering.

 

Their eyes met in the glass reflection. Song Yanyong softly said, “Maybe you were right before… maybe I really should get a DNA test.”

 

Su Jia’s nerves twitched. She wasn’t sure if it was relief or something else.

 

She hesitated for a moment, then told Song Yanyong that Song Qi was not related to the Song family by bl00d, and asked, “What did you find out?”

 

Flashback to 20 minutes earlier:

 

Song Yanyong had called Tan Qi using the number on the card. Just as she had guessed, the original owner had left a will with her.

 

She had just read the digital version of that will. It stated that, upon her death, 30% of her shares would be transferred to Ying Junmei, and the rest of her properties to Zhou Yuan.

 

The will was written after the car accident.

 

From the perspective of benefit and deduction, Zhou Yuan wouldn’t care about the properties—Ying Junmei, being the biggest beneficiary, became the main suspect in the car crash.

 

A bold theory:

 

Could it be that Ying Junmei orchestrated the accident? The original owner didn’t die, just became disabled. Then, Ying Junmei found another silent, undetectable way to eliminate her—by making her take her own life.

 

In that case, the psychological conditioning that followed—telling her she was an orphan, a “fallen genius,” unloved except by a distant grandmother—finally made sense.

 

But it was hard to imagine a grandmother being so cruel to her own granddaughter.

 

From physical to mental torment—utter destruction.

 

Even someone as worldly as Song Yanyong was chilled by the thought.

 

She’d rather believe that Ying Junmei and the original owner weren’t biologically related.

 

But to Su Jia, who didn’t believe Yanyong had changed identities, she could only offer a different explanation—saying she remembered, in a foggy state, once leaving a will with a lawyer. That she had been misled by Ying Junmei into despair.

 

When Su Jia heard the word will, her scalp tingled. She frowned deeply and asked, “You wrote a will?”

 

Song Yanyong heard her tone and could tell Su Jia was overthinking. Before she could speak, Su Jia’s hand on her shoulder suddenly clenched, her voice low and intense, “Was it because of your legs? And Ying Junmei treated you like that… how dare she?”

 

Yanyong paused. In essence, yes.

 

She lightly said, “Mm. There’s a connection. But it’s all in the past now. Those thoughts are long gone, don’t worry. As for Ying Junmei—even if she’s not the culprit, she has debts to pay.”

 

Su Jia still looked unsettled. She stared at Yanyong’s face. She couldn’t imagine someone like Song Yanyong ever reaching a point of such despair.

 

Her hatred toward the person behind the crash surged.

 

At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to slap Ying Junmei.

 

She looked at her hand, still held by Yanyong, paused, then her eyes turned darker. In a low, seductive voice, she asked, “You said part of the will left things to someone else. Who was it…?”

 

Song Yanyong: “…”

 

Bringing up the will wasn’t a big deal, but she had skimmed over the second half on purpose.

 

Firstly, she had focused on Ying Junmei. Secondly, Zhou Yuan had been very close to the original owner. She didn’t want Su Jia to be affected by that past, and yes, she felt a bit guilty—leaving someone a share of your estate implied a deep connection.

 

“It was Zhou Yuan, wasn’t it?”

 

Yanyong sighed internally. Her Su Miss really paid attention to every detail—and was quite clever too.

 

“Yes, but that was the past—just foolish youth. I barely remembered I even wrote the will, let alone what was in it.”

 

Clearly, she didn’t care about it.

 

But Su Jia’s face changed instantly. She pulled her hand away. “If you say so.”

 

Seeing her expression, Yanyong went to the desk and pressed the automatic curtains closed, then stood and walked over, wrapping her arm around Su Jia’s waist.

 

Her chin rested against Su Jia’s ear as she said softly, “That will really doesn’t matter. It’s been destroyed. You know I dislike her now. She’s tried to harm you more than once. We haven’t even settled the score yet.”

 

Su Jia’s mind was a mess—anger at Ying Junmei and Zhou Yuan, jealousy, desire, guilt…

 

She didn’t even know where to begin unraveling it.

 

Of course, she understood all this. She knew that now, Yanyong had nothing but disgust for Zhou Yuan. Still, the fact that she had once been important enough for Song Yanyong to consider in her final moments…

 

Made Su Jia burn with jealousy.

 

Yes, jealousy.

 

So intense she couldn’t control her emotions, even though she knew she shouldn’t be angry.

 

But even when she acted out, Song Yanyong patiently soothed her.

 

That realization made her inner turmoil melt like snow under sunlight.

 

Su Jia softened. “I didn’t mean to throw a tantrum.”

 

“I know,” Song Yanyong said gently.

 

She genuinely wasn’t angry. Who in love doesn’t feel jealous? Had their roles been reversed, she might not have reacted any better.

 

She could sense that Su Jia cared more now, showed more of her emotions.

 

That was good. Slowly, they might really grow stronger together.

 

She slipped her hand under Su Jia’s shirt.

 

Su Jia couldn’t help but squirm into her embrace.

 

Yanyong’s appearance might be cool and serene, but her mind and means were sharp. Once she found your weak spot, you stood little chance of resisting.

 

Su Jia turned around and threw herself into her arms.

 

Yanyong lightly patted her back and whispered in a sensual, sincere tone: “Jiajia, I don’t fall for just anyone. You have to believe me.”

 

“I do.”

 

Su Jia said she believed her—and Yanyong really believed she did.

 

…

 

Since they had already done it once in the car, Yanyong didn’t tease her too much here.

 

She kissed Su Jia’s forehead, took a few tissues from the table, and asked softly, “Want to wipe up?”

 

Su Jia’s heart pounded. When a calm, elegant person says lewd things, it’s the deadliest.

 

Her ears turned red. Her voice hoarse: “I’m not wet.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Yanyong hooked Su Jia into her lap. Though she couldn’t stand too long, she could still handle Su Jia’s weight. Her hands hadn’t gone down earlier—just teased her second gland. Now, hearing those words, she reached under.

 

Soon after, she brushed her freshly washed finger against Su Jia’s nose, leaving a glistening smear.

 

Her voice low and deep: “Then what’s this, Jiajia? Lying to me to my face? Naughty girl.”

 

Of course she knew Su Jia was aroused. That body was practically made of water.

 

Su Jia buried her face in Yanyong’s neck, hot with shame. “Fine, I lied. Happy now?”

 

Yanyong chuckled and held her close.

 

Su little vixen.

 

They didn’t really do much more—Yanyong still had things on her mind.

 

On the spacious beige sofa, she hugged Su Jia and said, “To get a DNA test, I’ll need Ying Junmei’s hair or bl00d.”

 

Hair would be easier.

 

She was already thinking of going back to the Song house tomorrow.

 

But Su Jia gently said—no need.

 

Half an hour later, they returned home.

 

Su Jia opened the bedroom, took out a paper bag, and handed it to Song Yanyong.

 

Without a word, she opened it and saw a transparent plastic pouch inside, holding several silver-white curly hairs.

 

Her eyes lit up as she looked at Su Jia—surprised and delighted.

 

Su Jia said, “After I suspected Ying Junmei, I figured one day you might need it. I got it last night.”

 

Thank goodness for that. If Song Qi wasn’t related, then maybe Song Yanyong wasn’t either.

 

Yanyong ruffled her soft hair and smiled. “My Su Miss is amazing.”

 

Like praising a child—and Su Jia actually enjoyed that.

 

She smirked. “That’s it?”

 

Yanyong asked, “What do you want then?”

 

Su Jia hooked her arm around Yanyong’s neck and whispered, one word at a time: “You.”