Transmigrated Into a Heartless Scumbag Alpha - Chapter 25

Zhou Zhou was completely at a loss; her eyes filled with panic and a hint of bewilderment.

You Xuechu sighed. Zhou Zhou seemed younger than her and Song Yi, so it was normal for her to panic in such situations—especially when it involved Song Yi.

What she had feared seemed to be happening.

She wasn’t sure how much Song Yi was affected, but Zhou Zhou was clearly halfway smitten. Though she claimed there was nothing between her and Song Yi, the blatant worry on her face betrayed her feelings. Perhaps Zhou Zhou herself didn’t even realize how much she cared about Song Yi.

“Sit down first,” You Xuechu said, guiding Zhou Zhou by the shoulders to the sofa before quickly picking up her phone to make a call.

Zhou Zhou sat stiffly, hands on her knees. She could hear Miss You talking on the phone but couldn’t process a word—only that she was probably contacting a driver.

You Xuechu was indeed calling a driver. After hanging up, she was surprised by Zhou Zhou’s restlessness. Though Zhou Zhou was physically present, her mind had clearly flown to Song Yi.

A pang of melancholy struck her: Why don’t any pretty girls worry about me like this?

Even if no pretty girls were pining for her, she couldn’t stand seeing one so distressed in front of her.

Clearing her throat, she offered comfort: “The wicked live a thousand years. Song Yi’s practically indestructible—even if something happens, she’ll pull through.” Her tone was so calm it sounded like Song Yi had merely slipped on flat ground, nothing serious. Zhou Zhou blinked in confusion but gradually steadied herself under You Xuechu’s composed demeanor.

“Will Miss Song really be okay?” Zhou Zhou asked, still uneasy.

“Mm. Ding Chen is very capable. With her around, Song Yi won’t have any problems. Who knows, maybe—”

“Maybe what?” Zhou Zhou pressed.

Maybe Song Yi is just playing the victim to win your sympathy, You Xuechu thought. She’d always suspected Song Yi had a bit of a performative personality, given how differently she manipulated each of her girlfriends.

After a moment’s hesitation, she held back. It was just a guess. Though Song Yi had been irredeemably awful in the past, You Xuechu had noticed signs of change recently and didn’t want to stereotype her.

“Nothing,” You Xuechu said casually. Zhou Zhou’s tense shoulders visibly relaxed.

Seeing Zhou Zhou finally ease up, You Xuechu’s pale lips curled faintly. She wasn’t wearing makeup today, leaving her complexion looking somewhat wan. If not for her sharp, commanding presence, she might have been mistaken for a frail princess locked away in a castle.

With Zhou Zhou soothed, she turned her attention to her own state.

She hadn’t had much appetite lately and hadn’t been eating well. Coming here this morning, she’d intended to check if Song Yi was tormenting Zhou Zhou—if so, she’d take Zhou Zhou away immediately. After all, she had free access to Song Yi’s villa within this gated community.

But upon arrival, the entire villa was eerily quiet. The first thing that caught her attention was the aroma of food. Entering the living room, she spotted two steaming bowls of noodles on the table. A closer look revealed tomato and egg noodles freshly made.

You Xuechu had secretly swallowed her saliva more than once.

“The noodles smell delicious,” she ventured, steering the conversation. “Zhou Zhou, is this breakfast for you and Song Yi?”

Zhou Zhou was a bit slow to react to how the conversation had shifted to food. She froze for two seconds before nodding belatedly, then lowered her head to check her phone. Exactly five minutes had passed since Miss You mentioned finding her a driver.

Suddenly, another phone rang—this time it was You Xuechu’s. The driver said he had already arrived and was parked right outside Song Yi’s villa.

“We can go now,” You Xuechu said as she stood up. Zhou Zhou followed suit, and the two walked out together. Zhou Zhou hurried ahead while You Xuechu kept glancing back, still thinking about the two bowls of noodles on the table.

“Miss You,” the driver greeted as he opened the rear door. You Xuechu motioned for Zhou Zhou to get in. Since Zhou Zhou was in a rush, she didn’t hesitate and climbed right in.

You Xuechu shut the door but didn’t get in herself, leaving both Zhou Zhou and the driver stunned.

“Take Miss Zhou to Dr. Ding’s place,” You Xuechu instructed the driver directly.

Then she leaned slightly toward the car window to look at Zhou Zhou. “I won’t be going. Um… can I eat those noodles?”

Zhou Zhou had thought Miss You had something important to say, but it turned out to be about the noodles. “…Y-yes, go ahead.”

The black sports car sped down the road. Zhou Zhou didn’t recognize the brand, but given how fast it was going, it must have been expensive.

Dressed in a black casual outfit, You Xuechu stood with her hands casually tucked into her pockets. Even without standing straight, her posture remained tall and poised like a pine tree. Watching the car disappear into the distance, she muttered, “Song Yi, you still owe me an apology.”

She returned to Song Yi’s villa and unceremoniously took a seat at the head of the table, pulling both bowls of noodles toward her. She roughly divided them: “This one’s Zhou Zhou’s, and this one’s Song Yi’s.”

Earlier, she had asked, and Zhou Zhou had given permission. She took a bite—it wasn’t particularly tasty, just passable. Maybe it was her first time eating something at this level, and the noodles had clumped together after sitting for a while. She found the experience oddly novel.

After finishing one bowl, she felt she could handle another and pulled the second bowl toward her. “Song Yi, you wronged me. What’s the big deal if I eat one bowl of your noodles?”

After all, by the time Song Yi returned, the noodles would be inedible anyway. You Xuechu ate with a clear conscience, even feeling like this bowl tasted better. As she worked through the top layer of noodles, she gradually uncovered a fried egg. Using her chopsticks, she fished it out and noticed it was shaped almost like a heart—no wonder Zhou Zhou had hidden it at the bottom.

“Song Yi, Song Yi, since I’ve already eaten your noodles, what’s one more fried egg?”

At this moment, You Xuechu had no idea that her decision to eat a bowl of Song Yi’s noodles would force her to house-sit for Song Yi for an entire day.

…

Ding Chen’s villa was in a different district from Song Yi’s, located in a more remote area. It wasn’t that Song Yi was unwilling to buy something more expensive—it was Ding Chen’s own request.

She needed a place for research, and the fewer people around, the better. The quieter, the better.

With the sports car speeding along, Zhou Zhou finally arrived close to 11 p.m.

Ding Chen was waiting outside for her, her expression somewhat complicated.

Zhou Zhou felt uneasy and asked worriedly, “Dr. Ding, how is Miss Song doing now?”

How else could she be? Ding Chen shook her head helplessly.

“Come with me. I’ll take you to see her.”

Zhou Zhou followed Ding Chen’s steps into the villa. After navigating through several twists and turns, they descended to the underground level. Zhou Zhou was astonished to find the space filled with a mixture of chemical odors—not exactly unpleasant, but far from pleasant either. Under the cold white lighting, all the unfamiliar equipment took on an eerie appearance.

Finally, Dr. Ding stopped in front of a heavy metal door. As she placed her fingerprint on the scanner, she turned her head slightly and said to Zhou Zhou, “We’re here.”

The metal door slid open automatically to the left. Zhou Zhou immediately spotted Miss Song lying on the operating table, her limbs restrained. Without hesitation, Zhou Zhou rushed inside.

Ding Chen didn’t even have time to stop her. She had intended to prepare Zhou Zhou mentally, but Zhou Zhou had already reached Song Yi’s side.

Sensing Zhou Zhou’s approach, the person on the table suddenly opened her eyes—crimson and wild. Even with her limbs immobilized, her body strained upward violently, as if ready to attack like a beast.

This wasn’t the first time Zhou Zhou had witnessed her in such a state. She only flinched momentarily when their eyes met but quickly steadied herself. Ding Chen, however, patted her chest in lingering fear.

“Miss Zhou, are you alright?” Ding Chen hurried forward, pulling Zhou Zhou back a step. “Aren’t you afraid of Miss Song like this?”

“I am… but not that much.” For some reason, Zhou Zhou’s instincts told her Miss Song wouldn’t harm her.

“What can I do to help Miss Song?” Zhou Zhou asked urgently.

She had noticed that Miss Song seemed to be in agony whenever she acted abnormally, and this time appeared worse than before. Zhou Zhou wanted to end her suffering as soon as possible.

Ding Chen had sought Zhou Zhou out precisely because Song Yi, in her delirious state, had repeatedly muttered Zhou Zhou’s name. She believed Zhou Zhou’s presence would help. If Zhou Zhou was willing to cooperate, calming Song Yi down would be straightforward.

But she hadn’t expected Zhou Zhou to be so compliant—she hadn’t even had the chance to explain.

“Miss Song does need your help.”

“Dr. Ding, please just tell me what to do.” Zhou Zhou’s earnest tone made Ding Chen hesitate.

“Dr. Ding…”

Ding Chen relented. “You’ll need to release your pheromones to soothe Miss Song. If necessary, you may also need to assist her through her Alpha’s Heat period. Given Miss Song’s unique constitution, the process could be… intense. She might lose control completely…”

“I’m willing,” Zhou Zhou interrupted firmly.

Ding Chen was taken aback. “Do you understand what an Alpha’s Heat period entails?” She recalled that Zhou Zhou had only experienced her first Heat period a few days ago and might not grasp the severity.

Out of professional duty, she cautioned, “This isn’t trivial, Miss Zhou. You need to think carefully. If Miss Song loses control, she might perform a Complete Mark on you. You do know what that means for an Omega, don’t you?”

Zhou Zhou naturally knew what a complete mark meant for an Omega. The physiology classes in school had taught her: once an Omega was completely marked, it was equivalent to being permanently bound to the Alpha who marked her. However, this permanence only applied to the Omega—the restrictions on the Alpha were minimal. Powerful Alphas could still possess other Omegas, while an Omega could only remain devoted to one Alpha. Throughout history, there had been no exceptions.

This was the biological inequality left behind by the Creator when shaping their kind.

Precisely because of this inherent physiological disadvantage, Omegas were especially cautious when choosing a mate. To Ding Chen, Zhou Zhou’s immediate “I do” seemed like a thoughtless impulse.

“I do,” Zhou Zhou repeated. Ding Chen watched helplessly as Zhou Zhou took another step closer to Song Yi.

“Dr. Ding, please remove Miss Song’s shackles. Her injuries from last time haven’t fully healed yet,” Zhou Zhou pleaded.

Hearing this, Ding Chen lowered her gaze. The marks on Song Yi’s wrists indeed hadn’t completely faded, but she didn’t unlock them right away. Instead, she said, “The restraints I used on Miss Song don’t have spikes. She won’t be injured.”

Perhaps this was what they called “love blinds reason”—Zhou Zhou was a perfect example right now.

Zhou Zhou relaxed slightly, though her brow remained furrowed.

Finally, Ding Chen asked, “Miss Zhou, why are you willing to go this far for Miss Song?”

Zhou Zhou was silent for a few moments before answering, “Dr. Ding, do you know? If it weren’t for Miss Song, I might have already been violated by another Alpha. The first time I went into an unusually painful heat, it was Miss Song who helped me. She gave me a temporary mark, she even gave me a job, I…” Her voice trailed off, uncertain whether it was just gratitude or something more tangled in her feelings.

Ding Chen pressed her lips together, saying nothing. She thought Zhou Zhou was far too naive. After all, things couldn’t be compared like this. What Song Yi had done for her might have been incidental, requiring little cost on her part. But what Zhou Zhou was about to sacrifice was the risk of her future happiness—a gamble she was almost certain to lose.

Zhou Zhou seemed to read Ding Chen’s thoughts and smiled faintly. “Dr. Ding, whether Miss Song completely marks me or not this time, I won’t delude myself into thinking I can be with her. We’re not from the same world. I have nothing to lose.”

Ding Chen was stunned, unsure how to respond. She bent down and fiddled with the control panel. The shackles unlocked, and Song Yi immediately sat up from the table. Seeing this, Ding Chen quickly wrapped a restraint strap around Song Yi’s wrists as she lunged toward Zhou Zhou, leaving one end for Zhou Zhou to hold.

“This place isn’t ideal. Let’s go to a room,” Ding Chen said, handing the lead to Zhou Zhou. Song Yi had been thrashing violently, but the moment the restraint passed into Zhou Zhou’s hands, she miraculously stilled, allowing Zhou Zhou to guide her without resistance.

Ding Chen led the way. After Zhou Zhou brought Song Yi out, Ding Chen carefully locked the basement laboratory—just in case. Before Zhou Zhou arrived, the frenzied Song Yi had destroyed several vials of experimental reagents Ding Chen had been recording data for. The experiments would have to be redone, and the thought pained her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been bolding enough to restrain her own employer in the first place.

Ding Chen was surprised by how docile Song Yi became in Zhou Zhou’s presence.

A few hours earlier, Song Yi had shown no abnormalities apart from restlessness. With her permission, Zhou Zhou extracted her genetic samples for research.

In the laboratory, Song Yi discovered the first batch of medication she had developed. Unable to hide it any longer, Zhou Zhou admitted it was only the initial version—still immature and not ready for direct application. They needed to recruit paid volunteers for clinical trials, track their responses, record data, and make continuous adjustments. Only through repeated iterations could they develop a mature formula truly applicable to the general Alpha population.

This was how drug development worked—initial investments in manpower and resources were indispensable. By drastically minimizing costs, Zhou Zhou had barely managed to shoulder the preliminary expenses herself without reporting it. Now that her employer had discovered it, she felt a twinge of fear.

Just as she was trembling with apprehension, Song Yi spoke: “I’ll test it myself.”

Instead of scolding her, Song Yi’s words made Ding Chen exhale in relief.

“Wait… Miss Song, what are you saying?!” Ding Chen’s voice shot up in alarm as she processed the statement.

“I said I want to try this medication myself.”

In all her years of medical practice, Ding Chen had never encountered a wealthy individual like Song Yi who cared so little for her own well-being.

This was madness—though, to be fair, many of Song Yi’s actions bordered on insanity lately, with an almost schizophrenic tendency.

Growing fearful, Ding Chen tried to persuade her to wait at least until others had tested the drug and no major issues arose before trying it herself.

“Miss Song could continue using Inhibitors for now.”

“Inhibitors are useless now.” Song Yi had injected herself with several doses the previous night to no effect. Something primal kept raging inside her—otherwise, she wouldn’t have rushed to Ding Chen’s place first thing in the morning instead of waiting for the doctor’s scheduled visit.

Had she developed resistance? Ding Chen was speechless.

According to current data, Song Yi was the most powerful Alpha of the younger generation. Greater power meant more volatile genetic factors—now finally overwhelming the suppressants, necessitating new medication.

“I know you’re anxious, but drug development is never instantaneous. Give me at least a week. Stay here during that time, and I’ll help regulate your condition, alright?”

Frowning, Song Yi nodded. Ding Chen turned to examine a set of experimental data.

After just two minutes of inattention, Song Yi had secretly injected herself—and promptly descended into frenzy.

Fortunately, even in that frenzied state, Song Yi showed no interest in her as a Beta, sparing Ding Chen from potential violation.

After tremendous effort—and sacrificing a half-completed experiment—Ding Chen barely managed to restrain Song Yi. Several medical sedatives later, Song Yi gradually calmed, closing her eyes as if asleep. While cleaning the wreckage, Ding Chen heard Song Yi murmuring Zhou Zhou’s name and realized summoning her might help.

Retracing their path, they finally returned to the first floor.

Ding Chen opened a nearby room—spacious but containing only a large bed.

After Zhou Zhou led Song Yi inside, Ding Chen closed the door from outside and sighed, returning to the underground laboratory to continue cleaning up.

The moment the door closed, Zhou Zhou pressed her ear against it, listening as Dr. Ding’s footsteps faded away. She immediately turned to undo the restraints binding Miss Song’s wrists. Throughout the process, Miss Song remained cooperative.

The room was unlit, the window half-open, with the curtains fluttering in the breeze. Sunlight streaming in through the window cast flickering shadows as the curtains swayed.

Zhou Zhou didn’t dare look up at Miss Song, diverting her attention to turning on the light. Just as she raised her hand, another hand seized hers, and a backlit figure enveloped her against the wall. She closed her eyes.

The figure before her leaned in slowly, inch by inch, the heat of their breath almost scorching her.

Suddenly, she caught the strong scent of liquor and snapped her eyes open. Behind Miss Song, the sunlight was dazzling, but her face remained hidden in shadow. Those eyes—usually cool yet always slightly curved when looking at her—now bore a wicked smirk.

It was as if… as if she had become a different person.

Zhou Zhou suddenly felt afraid.

Seeing her fear, the scumbag Alpha Song Yi’s smirk deepened. The soul that had inexplicably taken over her body always ruined her plans. If not for her own formidable strength and the fact that Song Yi’s drug trial today had triggered the body’s inherent cruel tendencies, she wouldn’t have regained control so easily.

That Ding Chen was a fool too, delivering Zhou Zhou right to her—just as she wanted.

Now it was her show, and she intended to take her time.

Unfortunately, aside from the bed, there was nothing else in the room. The scumbag Alpha Song Yi sighed and continued leaning toward Zhou Zhou, her right thumb and forefinger gently pinching Zhou Zhou’s chin. “Seems heaven wants me to be gentle with you.”

Zhou Zhou turned her head away in fear. Miss Song would never speak to her like this.

So, when the scumbag Alpha Song Yi tried to kiss her, Zhou Zhou shoved her hard and ran.

“…Interesting.”

Staggering slightly from the push, the scumbag Alpha Song Yi didn’t rush to chase her. Instead, she stood still, admiring Zhou Zhou’s panic. With a click, she locked the door behind her, and Zhou Zhou froze in terror.

Spotting the restraints on the floor, the scumbag Alpha Song Yi grew even more excited. “So there’s a prop after all.”

What had been used to bind her would be far more fitting for Zhou Zhou.

She picked up the restraints and slowly advanced, not even bothering to release pheromones to subdue Zhou Zhou. There was no escape anyway—this way was more fun.

No matter how large the room, it was a dead end. Zhou Zhou’s eyes darted around until she noticed the bed wasn’t flush against the wall. She circled it, trying to evade her pursuer.

This version of Miss Song felt utterly alien to her.

“Clever girl.” The scumbag Alpha Song Yi soon tired of the chase. She stopped, bent down, and with sheer brute force, shoved the bed against the wall.

Zhou Zhou was instantly trapped, staring blankly as the figure approached. “Miss Song?”

The scumbag Alpha Song Yi grinned, her eyes full of malice. “Sweetheart, you should call me ‘big sister.'”

Zhou Zhou snapped back to reality. Miss Song would never call her that. But… this was undeniably Miss Song.

The scumbag Alpha Song Yi stepped closer, irritation simmering. She knew this girl had feelings for the other one.

“You said you were willing to help me, didn’t you? If you’re willing, don’t resist.” Her hands gripped Zhou Zhou’s shoulders, shoving her onto the bed. Caught off guard, Zhou Zhou sank into the soft white linens.

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the person leaning over her, pressing down.

Just as their lips were about to touch, Scumbag Alpha Song Yi suddenly felt a sharp pain in her head.

This sensation… that impostor was back again.

Zhou Zhou seized the opportunity to scoot aside, but seeing “Miss Song” in pain, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She had promised Dr. Ding that she was willing to help Miss Song—she couldn’t just walk away now.

Scumbag Alpha Song Yi rolled around on the bed in agony, cursing the other Song Yi who shared her name countless times in her mind.

That person had the same name as her but was nothing like her, always seizing any chance to nag like a chanting monk about being a good person. Worse, it was like the Golden Headband Spell—yet she refused to yield. This was her body, and she had the right to do whatever she wanted.

Suddenly, a pair of hands steadied her, propping her up slightly before tucking the blanket around her.

Scumbag Alpha Song Yi, caught between pain, anger, and amusement, muttered, “Hot.”

Zhou Zhou touched her forehead but said nothing.

Scumbag Alpha Song Yi clutched Zhou Zhou’s hand with one hand while nursing her headache. “It hurts,” she groaned.

The genuine pain was perfect for acting out a melodramatic scene—she had to make the most of it.

Just as she expected, the girl’s eyes filled with concern and sympathy.

With a pained expression, Song Yi said, “If you kiss me, it won’t hurt as much.”

No sooner had she spoken than her headache worsened, sending her rolling around again. Zhou Zhou held her down and hesitated for a moment. Instead of kissing “Miss Song,” she recalled Dr. Ding’s advice about using pheromones for comfort. Gritting her teeth, she tore off the barrier patch on the back of her neck.

A sweet cherry fragrance instantly filled the air, seemingly reluctant to blend with the strong liquor scent already permeating the room.

Scumbag Alpha Song Yi breathed deeper, trying to inhale more of the Omega’s scent, but her body abruptly ejected her soul.

Song Yi struggled fiercely against the original scumbag Alpha for control, finally regaining command of her body. If the original had possessed even a shred of humanity, she wouldn’t have fought so desperately to return.

Though her eyes remained closed, she could sense Zhou Zhou beside her, enveloped in that sweet cherry aroma.

For the first time, she thought the ABO world wasn’t so bad after all.

Zhou Zhou couldn’t control her pheromones yet. Once the barrier patch was removed, they spilled out on their own. At first, the air was thick with the overpowering liquor scent, and her own pheromones emerged sparingly, as if unwilling.

Then, at some point, Zhou Zhou caught the familiar scent of red wine again. She glanced down at Miss Song, who now seemed much gentler.

But… could a person’s pheromones change?

Amid her surprise and delight, the sweet cherry fragrance from her scent gland spilled out eagerly, mingling with the red wine aroma—now carrying a hint of sharpness, perhaps influenced by the liquor.

Had Miss Song stabilized?

Zhou Zhou sat by the bed, her heart pounding, unsure whether it was from joy or something else.

This was the first time she’d stared so openly at Miss Song without quickly averting her gaze—because Miss Song’s eyes were still closed.

Was it her imagination, or did Miss Song seem subtly different? When “Miss Song” had leaned over her earlier, she’d clearly seen a tiny black mole on the right side of her nose. Now, it was gone.

Had she been too flustered to see properly?

When Song Yi woke, she found Zhou Zhou sitting beside the bed, lost in thought.

Not wanting to disturb her, Song Yi watched her for a while, her own heart restless.

Her palm was warm—the original scumbag Alpha had never let go of Zhou Zhou’s hand, and for some reason, neither had she.

Almost instinctively, she propped herself up on her elbow and gave Zhou Zhou a quick, light hug—so brief that Zhou Zhou, just snapping out of her daze, wondered if she’d imagined it.

“Miss Song, you’re awake?” Zhou Zhou asked happily.

“Mhm.” Song Yi smiled, her gaze steady on Zhou Zhou.

She was still puzzling over how she’d managed to return. The moment Zhou Zhou tore off the barrier patch and her sweet cherry pheromones flooded out, something inside her had surged, overwhelmingly expelling the original scumbag Alpha from her body.

Zhou Zhou grew self-conscious under her stare and instinctively tried to cover her face, only to realize her hand was still clasped in Miss Song’s.

Song Yi took Zhou Zhou’s hand, gave it a gentle tug, and pulled her down to lie beside her. Closing her eyes, she said, “Stay with me for a while.”

Zhou Zhou obediently lay down. Song Yi released her hand and pulled the blanket over her.

Having stayed up all night and then fighting the original Scumbag Alpha for control of her body early in the morning, she was exhausted.

She quickly closed her eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep beside Zhou Zhou, enveloped in the relaxing, intoxicatingly sweet scent of cherries.

Zhou Zhou, however, couldn’t sleep. Lying next to Miss Song, she kept wondering why Miss Song’s behavior had been so drastically different before—one moment violent, with suggestive and teasing words, the next gentle as water, making people feel bathed in spring breeze.

They had shared a bed before, but that time both had stayed on the edges, not as close as they were now. Zhou Zhou tilted her head slightly, studying Miss Song’s profile.

Strangely, the small mole by Miss Song’s nostril was gone.

It seemed to appear only during her frenzied episodes.

The room was unlit, the window only slightly ajar with the curtains mostly drawn, allowing little sunlight to filter in. The bed was in a dim corner, barely illuminated. Zhou Zhou gazed at Miss Song for a long time until her eyes grew tired, and she slowly closed them.

Meanwhile, Ding Chen had finished cleaning up the mess in the lab. Glancing at the time—3 PM—she felt a pang of hunger and headed to the kitchen to whip up something to eat. Passing the room where Song Yi and Zhou Zhou were, she paused deliberately.

Not out of nosiness, but because professional ethics demanded she keep an eye on Song Yi’s condition.

“Bang!” A loud noise came from inside the room.

Ding Chen froze for a few seconds before quickly slipping away.

Typical Song Yi.

The sound of the collapsing bed hadn’t been enough to rouse Song Yi from deep sleep, but the impact of hitting the floor was painful enough to wake her.

Her eyes snapped open, immediately seeking Zhou Zhou, who had scraped her elbow somewhere and was bleeding. Frowning, Song Yi scooped her up.

Before Zhou Zhou could react, she was already airborne.

“The quality of Ding Chen’s bed is terrible. Just two people lying down to sleep, and it collapses.”

Zhou Zhou wrapped her arms around Miss Song’s neck without a word, sensing her anger.

Song Yi was indeed upset. Not only had the bed ruined her nap, but it had also hurt Zhou Zhou.

“Does it hurt?” she asked softly, looking down.

Zhou Zhou shook her head slightly against her neck, as if struck mute. She felt weightless, floating. She didn’t quite understand why Miss Song would fuss over such a minor injury, treating her like some priceless treasure that couldn’t be scratched or bumped.

She’d had worse injuries from simple falls before.

She knew she should tell Miss Song that her legs were fine, and she could walk on her own, but she didn’t.

She really liked being carried by Miss Song—a fondness without reason.

Song Yi herself couldn’t explain why she was so anxious about Zhou Zhou. Seeing her hurt just triggered an instinctive protectiveness.

Carrying Zhou Zhou out of the room, she began calling for Ding Chen.

Hearing the summons, Ding Chen emerged from the kitchen holding a kitchen knife, her white lab coat making the scene absurdly comical.

“Miss Song, you…” Ding Chen hid the knife behind her back, first scrutinizing Song Yi before her gaze settled on Zhou Zhou.

She noticed the bl00d on Zhou Zhou’s elbow and instinctively adjusted her glasses to mask her reaction.

Not only had the bed collapsed, but someone got hurt too—it was more intense than she had imagined.

Song Yi got straight to the point, “Put aside what you’re doing and take a look at Zhou Zhou.”

“Alright,” Ding Chen immediately replied, setting down the kitchen knife and quickly fetching a first aid kit.

Song Yi placed Zhou Zhou on the shabby gray sofa, which didn’t look very sturdy either. She didn’t sit down; afraid it might collapse under her weight.

Ding Chen sat beside Zhou Zhou and professionally tended to her wound. After finishing, she cautiously asked in a low voice, “Are there any other injuries?”

Zhou Zhou shook her head lightly. Ding Chen found it odd but didn’t press further, as the smell of something burning suddenly hit her. She yelled, “Oh no!” and dashed back to the kitchen.

Two minutes later, Ding Chen emerged with a strange expression, carrying three plates of charred, mushy noodles.

“Some soup noodles, Miss Song, Miss Zhou… care to make do?”

Song Yi frowned, a hint of self-doubt in her voice, “Dr. Ding, is the salary I pay you every month really that low?”

“No,” Ding Chen lowered her head, twirling the sticky mess with a silver fork. “I just got distracted, otherwise it wouldn’t have turned out so… disastrous.”

“What about the bed?”

“Well… maybe Miss Song was a bit too vigorous. The bed just… couldn’t handle it,” Ding Chen stammered.

Song Yi suddenly laughed, “What are you imagining? Even if it were what you’re thinking, that bed’s quality was just terrible.”

“And this sofa,” Song Yi paused for a moment before adding, “I remember when I bought this villa for you, I also gave you plenty of money to pick out furniture yourself.”

Ding Chen’s villa was practically hollow inside, as unfurnished as it could get. She had poured almost all her funds into research, never expecting Song Yi to actually visit.

She told the truth, and Song Yi fell silent before pulling out her phone and transferring a sum to Ding Chen on the spot. “Buy some decent furniture. If there’s any essential research project, discuss it with me. If approved, I’ll fully fund it.”

Song Yi believed those dedicated to research shouldn’t live in such hardship, while Ding Chen thought Song Yi had become far more visionary and business-savvy than before.

“Thank you, Miss Song,” Ding Chen said gratefully.

Song Yi glanced at the blackened mush on the table and said, “Let’s order takeout.”

“Delivery doesn’t come out here,” Ding Chen replied. “This place is too remote.”

Song Yi was at a loss for words and finally said dryly, “Where’s the water? I’ll get a glass.”

Ding Chen pointed to the kitchen. Seizing the moment Song Yi was gone, she asked, “Miss Zhou, can you cook?”

Zhou Zhou hesitated before nodding, “A little, simple things.”

“There’s more noodles in the kitchen.”

“Alright.” She had just learned how to make tomato and egg noodles that morning.

As Zhou Zhou stepped into the kitchen, she heard Miss Song complain, “Ding Chen, why does your water taste like medicine too?”

Bending over to pack the first aid kit, Ding Chen calmly adjusted her glasses with a finger. “Sterilization.”

“……”

Song Yi had had enough and was about to leave when she saw Zhou Zhou enter as well.

Zhou Zhou blinked and said, “Miss Song, let me cook some noodles for you.”

Originally intending to leave the dingy apartment of Ding Chen—who appeared to be a doctor but was actually a research fanatic at heart—Song Yi found herself nodding inexplicably at Zhou Zhou’s sparkling eyes. “I’ll assist you,” she said.

She was indeed hungry, having not eaten a single grain since morning.

Zhou Zhou searched everywhere for noodles but couldn’t find any in the lower cabinets. Song Yi opened the upper ones and handed her the noodles. Apart from that, they only managed to find three eggs.

Song Yi couldn’t help but grumble inwardly: How on earth does Ding Chen survive?

Having made noodles once in the morning, Zhou Zhou remembered the steps clearly—boil water, cook the noodles, crack in the eggs for poaching, season, quick and simple.

The taste was mediocre, but compared to Ding Chen’s earlier culinary disaster, Zhou Zhou’s poached egg noodles seemed downright delicious.

After the meal, Song Yi couldn’t stand staying any longer. She disliked the mix of chemical odors in Ding Chen’s home. Ding Chen gave her another checkup before letting her go.

As a qualified private doctor, Ding Chen didn’t forget to remind her at the end, “Miss Song, your rut normally lasts three days. If today’s situation happens again, you know what to do.” She glanced at Zhou Zhou.

Song Yi knew Ding Chen had misunderstood deeply and didn’t bother explaining further. With a dark expression, she said, “Dr. Ding, at least change the bed and sofa.”

“Will do, right away.” Ding Chen smiled and waved at them, thinking about the new payment she’d just received.

Once in the car, Song Yi drove manually for a while before switching to autopilot.

She turned her head to look at Zhou Zhou, wanting to say something but hesitating.

Zhou Zhou gripped the seatbelt in front of her, feeling nervous under Miss Song’s gaze. But Miss Song simply stared without speaking.

“Miss Song?” Zhou Zhou widened her eyes in confusion.

“It’s nothing.” Song Yi turned back. She had actually thought about the original scumbag Alpha’s return and wanted to ask if Zhou Zhou had been frightened.

“Miss Song.”

“Hmm?” Song Yi turned to look at Zhou Zhou again, gazing intently into her clear eyes.

“Miss You came by this morning.”

Song Yi froze for a second. “What did she come for?”

Zhou Zhou shook her head. Miss You hadn’t answered her at the time. Then she received Dr. Ding’s call, and everything became chaotic. It was Miss You who arranged for a driver to send her over.

“I’ll call and ask.”

Song Yi pulled out her phone, found You Xuechu’s number in her contacts, and dialed. Zhou Zhou leaned against the car window, distracting herself with the scenery.

“Song Yi, when are you coming back?” You Xuechu’s urgent voice came through the phone.

“On my way back now.”

“Oh.”

“Are you at my place?”

You Xuechu hung up.

Song Yi: “…”

She found it utterly baffling. Putting her phone away, she glanced to the side. Zhou Zhou was leaning against the window, revealing the pale nape of her neck. Song Yi noticed she wasn’t wearing a barrier patch over her scent gland. Then she remembered there might still be an Alpha at home…

Alpha, she rummaged through her pocket and pulled out a Barrier patch.

Originally intending to tap Zhou Zhou lightly to have her apply it herself, from her angle, Zhou Zhou appeared to be asleep.

She decided not to disturb Zhou Zhou. Instead, she tore open the packaging herself and gently applied it for her.

Zhou Zhou wasn’t actually asleep. When Miss Song’s fingers brushed against her, she flinched slightly. Miss Song’s hand quickly withdrew, and it took a while before Zhou Zhou realized she had only been applying a Barrier patch.

Leaning against the car window, she remained motionless. Even when the car arrived at Miss Song’s villa and came to a stop, she didn’t open her eyes.

You Xuechu was already waiting outside. Her expression was icy when she saw Song Yi, and she provocatively crooked a finger. “Song Yi, come here.”

Song Yi thought the original Scumbag Alpha had indeed treated You Xuechu poorly, so her current hostility was understandable. Seeing Zhou Zhou still asleep, she decided not to wake her immediately.

She got out of the car alone and walked straight toward You Xuechu, stopping half a meter away. “What do you want?”

You Xuechu frowned in displeasure. “I’ve been watching your house all day, and this is the attitude I get?”

Song Yi paused, feeling strange but playing along. “Thank you.”

You Xuechu held out her hand. “Pay up. For the lock change and house-sitting.”

“How much?”

Song Yi’s excessive compliance irritated You Xuechu.

“100,000. In cash!”

Suddenly, Song Yi raised a finger to her lips in a silencing gesture. “Zhou Zhou’s still asleep. Keep it down.”

You Xuechu glanced toward the car in surprise. There was indeed someone else inside. She rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Fine, for Zhou Zhou’s sake.”

“100,000 in cash. Hand it over.”

“I don’t have cash.”

“Then answer me one question.”

“Alright.”

“Do you genuinely like Zhou Zhou?”