Transmigrated Into a Heartless Scumbag Alpha - Chapter 20

Zhou Zhou lowered her head after speaking, as uttering those words had drained too much of her courage.

She knew the gap between herself, and Miss Song was vast—even having such delusions made her feel ashamed.

Song Yi stood stunned for a long moment before turning back to open the bedroom door for Zhou Zhou. “Then this room it is.”

“Mm.” Zhou Zhou responded softly. Miss Song didn’t seem to have noticed anything, but her face still burned fiercely. She bent down to pick up her travel bag placed by the wall, using the motion to hide her embarrassment.

This time, since the bag was right outside the door and wouldn’t require much effort to bring in, Song Yi let Zhou Zhou carry it herself without offering help again.

While Zhou Zhou went inside to put down her bag, Song Yi waited outside the door, turning her back as she pondered arranging for a locksmith to install an electronic lock on Zhou Zhou’s room the next day. The password would be set by Zhou Zhou herself—Song Yi wouldn’t have access. This way, Zhou Zhou might feel more secure.

“Miss Song?”

Zhou Zhou entered the room but didn’t pay much attention to how nice her new room was. She only noticed the absence of footsteps behind her—Miss Song hadn’t come in. So she casually placed her travel bag by the bed and turned to leave.

“I’ve put it away. I’ll go prepare dinner now.” With that, Zhou Zhou walked past Miss Song and headed downstairs first. Earlier, Miss Song had mentioned making dinner together, but how could Zhou Zhou let her do such things?

By the time Song Yi snapped out of her thoughts, Zhou Zhou was already out of sight. The door remained open—unprotected against her.

Zhou Zhou trusted her, but Song Yi didn’t fully trust herself. She’d managed to control herself those previous times, but if she ever lost control in the future, or if the original Scumbag Alpha returned and went wild, Zhou Zhou would have no way to defend herself.

The matter of the password lock couldn’t wait.

Song Yi immediately contacted a locksmith through an app, scheduling the installation for noon the next day, before heading downstairs to find Zhou Zhou.

Zhou Zhou was fretting in the kitchen.

She realized that aside from wontons, she had no other culinary skills to offer. As the newly appointed villa housekeeper, hiring a temporary cook on such short notice wasn’t practical. She surveyed the ample fresh ingredients in the refrigerator and spotted the unfinished wontons she’d left in one corner that morning—just enough for one person. They were meant as breakfast for Miss Song after she’d left.

Zhou Zhou didn’t mind skipping dinner herself, but serving only wontons to Miss Song seemed far too meager.

“Thinking about what to make?”

The sudden voice behind her startled Zhou Zhou, making her shiver.

Song Yi had come downstairs and, seeing Zhou Zhou holding the open refrigerator door while lost in thought, walked over directly. She hadn’t expected her words to frighten Zhou Zhou.

It seemed Zhou Zhou lacked a sense of security even more than she’d imagined.

“Miss Song…” Zhou Zhou turned around, her face flushed with embarrassment, and forced herself to ask, “Is there any particular dish you’d like to eat?”

Song Yi looked into the refrigerator, her gaze sweeping over the contents before settling on the small half-pack of wontons in the corner.

“I’d like wontons. I didn’t get enough this morning.”

“…Alright.”

Zhou Zhou took out the half-pack of wontons, secretly relieved.

“It seems a bit scarce.”

Song Yi leaned in, her warm breath brushing against Zhou Zhou’s pale neck. The sensation made Zhou Zhou itch, causing her to hunch lower.

“If Miss Song thinks it’s not enough, I can make more. It’ll just take a little longer.”

“That’s fine.” Song Yi agreed casually.

Zhou Zhou had bent her body like a bow to maintain distance from her, though holding this position was tiring.

“Miss Song, I’ll get it done as soon as possible. You can go rest in the living room,” Zhou Zhou said awkwardly.

Song Yi straightened up, putting some distance between them before walking to the water dispenser to fetch a glass of water.

Zhou Zhou finally had the chance to straighten her back, rotating her neck slightly before immediately reaching for the high-gluten flour for dumpling wrappers and the rolling pin.

Being completely clueless about cooking, Song Yi didn’t interfere directly. Instead, she leaned against the frosted glass kitchen door with her water glass, watching as Zhou Zhou kneaded the white flour with just the right amount of water.

Noticing Zhou Zhou’s energy waning during the kneading process, Song Yi set her glass by the sink, rolled up her shirt sleeves, washed her hands, and approached Zhou Zhou.

Hearing footsteps, Zhou Zhou tried to speed up her slowing movements, thinking Miss Song must be very hungry. Her flour-dusted hands worked harder.

Suddenly, Miss Song moved closer.

“Let me help.”

“No need, it’s almost done…”

Zhou Zhou turned her head and instantly held her breath.

Too close.

Miss Song was standing too close.

Her nose nearly brushed Miss Song’s cheek. Frozen like a robot, she didn’t dare move.

Song Yi casually turned her face away, pointing at the water dispenser. “Tired? Go get some water. The glasses are below.”

Zhou Zhou fled to the water dispenser, grabbing a frosted glass with floral vine patterns to drink from.

Song Yi shook her head with a smile—she must have been truly thirsty. Her earlier suggestion had just been a casual excuse to temporarily send Zhou Zhou away.

With her goal achieved, Song Yi turned back to the wooden board and began kneading the dough, mimicking Zhou Zhou’s earlier movements.

Mid-sip, Zhou Zhou froze upon seeing Miss Song take over her task. She quickly set down the glass and rushed back to her post.

Noticing Zhou Zhou’s return, Song Yi smiled. “Kneading is so relaxing. Don’t take this from me, Zhou Zhou.”

Zhou Zhou didn’t know how to respond—Miss Song always managed to surprise her. “Alright,” she replied sweetly, her faint dimples showing. “Just two more minutes should do it.”

Song Yi continued kneading, unable to resist praising, “Zhou Zhou, you look lovely when you smile.” Especially with those dimples—like sweet wine perfuming the air.

She immediately regretted the compliment; worried Zhou Zhou might misunderstand her intentions.

But then came a soft, sweet voice from beside her: “Thank you.” No trace of wariness.

Song Yi exhaled slowly, relieved.

After finishing the dough, unsure what to do next, Song Yi yielded the task back to Zhou Zhou. She prepared to observe and learn when Zhou Zhou suddenly called out.

“Miss Song, your face.” Zhou Zhou pointed to her own cheek. “There’s flour on it.”

Song Yi glanced at her flour-covered hands and rubbed her cheek with her elbow. Zhou Zhou shook her head—it wasn’t clean.

Leaning forward naturally, Song Yi brought her face closer to Zhou Zhou with a smile. “Help me out, Zhou Zhou.”

Unable to refuse, Zhou Zhou raised a slightly trembling hand, avoiding eye contact.

Reading her reaction as nervousness, Song Yi closed her eyes to help her relax.

With her vision blocked, every other sense heightened—especially touch.

A warm little hand gently wiped the flour from her face, trailing down her cheek. Song Yi was unbearably ticklish, yet she kept her eyes closed and played along.

Until the warm fingertip lightly brushed against her lips—then Song Yi’s eyes flew open.