Transmigrated Into a Heartless Scumbag Alpha - Chapter 28

Zhou Zhou never expected to see Miss Song before her rut period ended—it felt like a dream. She quickly blinked her eyes, afraid that if she kept them closed for even a second longer, Miss Song might vanish into thin air.

But Miss Song didn’t disappear. She stood perfectly by the kitchen door; eyes curved into a smile as she looked at her.

Zhou Zhou didn’t know how long Miss Song had been there, only that she was overjoyed she had come.

Absolutely overjoyed.

“Ahem…”

You Xuechu, who had been relegated to the background for a while, couldn’t take it anymore. This was her house, wasn’t it? Why was everyone acting like she didn’t exist?

“Good morning, Miss You.” Zhou Zhou finally noticed her again and smiled. “Please wait in the living room. I’ll bring out the noodles soon.”

You Xuechu gave a slight nod. Zhou Zhou had given her a reason to leave—and an opportunity for herself and Song Yi to be alone.

“What are you cooking?” Song Yi was the first to speak.

“Vegetable and shredded chicken noodles,” Zhou Zhou answered softly, not daring to meet Miss Song’s eyes for fear of revealing the longing in her heart.

Since Miss You was still waiting in the living room, Zhou Zhou didn’t linger in conversation with Miss Song. Just seeing her was happiness enough. She turned back to ladle out the noodles, only for Song Yi to step closer, watching as she portioned out three bowls.

A flicker of confusion crossed Song Yi’s mind. She roughly knew Zhou Zhou’s appetite, and You Xuechu’s too—in the novel, You Xuechu was not only known as the “Ice Beauty” but also infamous for her picky eating. Even the most skilled chefs struggled to get her to take more than a few bites, so her portions were always small.

So why had Zhou Zhou made so much? Had she unconsciously prepared a serving for her?

The thought made Song Yi feel a little presumptuous. Maybe she had just accidentally made too much.

This time, Zhou Zhou remembered to wear heat-resistant gloves, carefully carrying a bowl out with both hands. Her palms weren’t burning, but her heart was.

She set the bowl in front of You Xuechu. “It’s my first time making vegetable and shredded chicken noodles. Please forgive me if it’s not good.”

For a moment, You Xuechu felt as if a state banquet chef were speaking to her and couldn’t help but laugh.

She took a bite immediately. “It’s delicious.”

How strange. Did she have some kind of weird stomach that only liked Zhou Zhou’s cooking?

She had always heard that aesthetics could be subjective—different flowers for different eyes. But apparently, the same applied to food—different dishes for different stomachs.

She really wanted to hire Zhou Zhou as her personal chef. Unfortunately, Song Yi would never agree, and neither would Zhou Zhou.

Zhou Zhou froze. Miss You had spoken so frankly, without a hint of politeness. Her cooking, which she had never been confident in, had now earned not only Miss Song’s approval but also Miss You’s. Her heart swelled with excitement and joy.

“You should come eat too,” You Xuechu said.

“Mm.” Zhou Zhou turned to fetch the remaining bowls, only to see Miss Song already walking out with two in hand. Just watching made her worry about the heat.

Tsk!

You Xuechu set down her chopsticks in astonishment. Song Yi’s hands were red from the heat after placing the bowls down, and Zhou Zhou’s eyes were filled with unconcealed concern.

And they still claim they don’t like each other?

Were these two just mocking her for not being a bright enough third wheel?

Ugh!

You Xuechu felt inexplicably irritated but helpless. She watched as Zhou Zhou followed Song Yi back into the kitchen, where the sound of running water soon followed—Song Yi rinsing her scalded hands under the tap while Zhou Zhou, having removed her gloves, hovered behind her, waiting.

“Miss Song, your hand…”

“It’s fine.”

“But…”

“Zhou Zhou, did you make an extra portion of noodles?”

Y-yes, I guess.

Zhou Zhou didn’t dare tell the truth. Last night, Miss You said she’d finished two bowls of noodles after Zhou Zhou promised to cook her one bowl daily. To confirm, she’d asked about Miss You’s appetite.

Miss You had smiled and said, “One bowl is enough. Two is my maximum—rarely reached.”

So, including her own portion, she only needed to make two bowls this morning. But why had she unconsciously prepared enough for three?

An accident?

Zhou Zhou blushed at her own thoughts. Song Yi mused, “Well, we can’t let it go to waste then.”

You Xuechu’s voice suddenly rang out: “The noodles are getting soggy. When are you two coming out to eat?”

Seeing three bowls on the table with only herself eating, You Xuechu felt awkward and decided to summon the kitchen occupants.

Zhou Zhou flushed with embarrassment and immediately moved to exit, afraid Miss You might misunderstand her relationship with Miss Song again.

“Wait.” Song Yi grabbed Zhou Zhou’s arm. “Take off your apron first.”

Zhou Zhou froze. Song Yi simply untied the bow from behind. Coming to her senses, Zhou Zhou removed the apron from the front, hung it back, then dashed out with scarlet ears.

“Did Song Yi bully you?” You Xuechu asked warily, remembering how unreasonable Song Yi became during her susceptible periods.

Zhou Zhou shook her head. “No.”

Song Yi emerged leisurely. At the rectangular table, Zhou Zhou and You Xuechu sat farthest apart, facing each other. Song Yi took the middle seat, tilting her head slightly at You Xuechu. “Thanks for having me.”

You Xuechu lifted her chin with a proud “Hmph!”

Arriving that morning, Song Yi had expected cold treatment. Yet You Xuechu proved surprisingly hospitable—not only inviting her to see Zhou Zhou but also sharing breakfast. It touched her.

Zhou Zhou ate quietly in her seat, occasionally stealing glances at Miss Song.

You Xuechu finished first, followed by Song Yi.

Soon both were watching Zhou Zhou eat.

You Xuechu pondered how novel it felt dining with others. Since childhood, she’d always eaten alone—her parents too busy globetrotting for business to share meals. Though easily arranging company through her status, subordinates would grow tense at her table, panicking if she frowned at disliked food. “Miss, are you unwell?”

Song Yi had been the first to play games with her, the first to invite her to meals. That brief joy had led to prolonged nausea and anorexia. Recovering enough to eat normally had been arduous.

Unaware of You Xuechu’s thoughts, Song Yi noticed her staring intently at Zhou Zhou. So she does have feelings for Zhou Zhou!

But Zhou Zhou would have a wonderful fiancée in the future, so You Xuechu decided not to get involved, lest she end up heartbroken again.

“…Zhou Zhou, is there any soup left in the kitchen?” After hesitating for a moment, You Xuechu finally asked.

Zhou Zhou said there was still some left, along with vegetables and shredded chicken.

So, You Xuechu took a bowl and went into the kitchen. Song Yi was momentarily stunned before quickly following, not quite understanding You Xuechu’s behavior.

You Xuechu stood in front of the stove, clumsily scooping food with a spatula. The shredded chicken was manageable, but the vegetables were unruly.

Song Yi, who was equally inexperienced in the kitchen, somehow found the confidence to say, “Let me do it.”

You Xuechu’s arms were already tired, so she stepped aside and waited for Song Yi.

However, Song Yi was only slightly better than her.

Suppressing a laugh, You Xuechu watched as Song Yi muttered, “What kind of vegetables are these? So thin and long, all tangled together—impossible to separate.” It never occurred to her to use chopsticks.

In the end, Song Yi scooped all the food into You Xuechu’s bowl.

“You don’t want any?” You Xuechu asked in surprise.

Song Yi shook her head. She’d let You Xuechu have it—it was rare for her to eat a proper meal.

After a brief hesitation, You Xuechu said, “Why don’t you stay a little longer?”

It was an invitation.

Song Yi raised an eyebrow. “Alright.”

Zhou Zhou sat alone in the living room, eating noodles and wondering what Miss Song and Miss You were doing in the kitchen.

She recalled that Miss You and Miss Song had once been together and gently poked the noodles in her bowl with her chopsticks.

Their relationship seemed to have improved somewhat—were they getting back together?

If they could reconcile, that would be wonderful. Miss Song and Miss You were truly a perfect match.

When Song Yi and You Xuechu came out, the difference between their bowls was obvious. You Xuechu’s was piled high with vegetables and shredded chicken, while Song Yi’s held only clear broth—a pitiful sight at first glance.

Yet both wore calm expressions. Zhou Zhou quietly noted that Miss Song preferred soup, while Miss You liked more vegetables.

After the three finished eating, Zhou Zhou began cleaning up. The initial agreement of making one bowl of noodles a day didn’t sit right with her—she wanted to do more, and You Xuechu allowed it.

Feeling rather full, You Xuechu suddenly caught a reproachful look from Song Yi, as if accusing her: Don’t you have a housekeeper?

Zhou Zhou insisted on doing this herself. You Xuechu mouthed the words silently.

Song Yi could probably guess as much, but she still felt an inexplicable discomfort.

Zhou Zhou would be staying with You Xuechu for the next few days, inevitably doing many things for her—even if You Xuechu didn’t ask, Zhou Zhou would take the initiative.

Under Song Yi’s intense gaze, You Xuechu grew uneasy, assuming Song Yi was upset about overworking Zhou Zhou. She quickly stood up.

Fine, she’d go help Zhou Zhou.

But before she could, Song Yi reached out and stopped her. “I’ll go.”

You Xuechu: “???”

So much for just being an employer with no feelings for Zhou Zhou.

What kind of employer had such strong possessiveness?

Zhou Zhou was washing dishes—three bowls were quickly done, leaving only a heavy pot. Struggling a bit, she handed it to Song Yi, who began scrubbing it awkwardly.

Zhou Zhou poured detergent for her.

“Is this good enough?” Song Yi asked, tilting her head.

“Mm.”

After placing the clean pot back, Song Yi casually asked, “Are you settling in okay here?”

Zhou Zhou couldn’t very well admit she’d had trouble sleeping last night, so she simply said, “It’s fine.”

“How are you feeling now, Miss Song?” Zhou Zhou asked nervously.

“Not bad,” Song Yi replied with the same answer as before.

After a pause, Song Yi asked again, “If something happens to me again, will you come to see me?”

“Yes,” Zhou Zhou blurted out without hesitation. If Miss Song had asked her to stay yesterday, she wouldn’t have left.

Song Yi’s mood improved considerably. “In a few more days, once everything is completely stable, I’ll take you back with me.”

“Okay.” Zhou Zhou was already looking forward to it.

“Here’s your phone—I brought it for you.” Song Yi handed the phone to Zhou Zhou.

Zhou Zhou carefully took it, making sure not to touch Miss Song’s hand. Song Yi noticed but didn’t say anything.

Leaving the kitchen, Zhou Zhou found herself another task to do. After asking You Xuechu, she took the initiative to trim the weeds growing on the lawn outside. You Xuechu had already set up a chessboard, intending to ask Song Yi for a game, but Song Yi simply followed Zhou Zhou outside instead.

Left with nothing to do, You Xuechu soon grew bored and stepped outside as well. She saw Song Yi and Zhou Zhou both dressed in work clothes, wearing straw hats, and wielding lawn-trimming tools. Eager to join, she barely took a step forward before Song Yi called out to stop her.

“Don’t come over—there are bugs, and the tools are loud.” The lawn wasn’t big, and the two of them wouldn’t take long to finish. There was really no need for You Xuechu to join.

You Xuechu gave an OK sign and stood watching them, a hint of envy in her eyes.

Song Yi continued working diligently. Zhou Zhou noticed the loneliness in You Xuechu’s gaze—she probably wanted to reconcile with Miss Song but couldn’t find the right opportunity.

When they finished, Song Yi and Zhou Zhou crouched in the freshly trimmed grass to rest. Zhou Zhou picked a long blade of grass and quickly folded it into a vivid green grasshopper.

Finding it amusing, Song Yi asked Zhou Zhou to teach her. Zhou Zhou selected a suitable blade of grass and guided her step by step. Even Song Yi, who had never done crafts before, managed to fold a somewhat irregular grasshopper—though at the cost of a small cut on her finger.

It stung a little.

Zhou Zhou looked even more distressed than Song Yi, urging her to tend to the wound immediately. But Song Yi didn’t move. Instead, she smiled and asked, “Is it ugly?”

Was the grasshopper she made ugly?

It took Zhou Zhou a second to realize she was talking about the grasshopper. She shook her head but kept staring at the tiny wound, her brows deeply furrowed. Still, she reassured her, “Miss You would definitely like it.”

Song Yi paused briefly before suddenly laughing.

“Open your hand.”

“What for?” Zhou Zhou asked but obeyed anyway.

Song Yi placed the grasshopper she had made into Zhou Zhou’s palm and closed her fingers around it. “For you.”

Zhou Zhou’s heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widened to an unprecedented size, and her lips parted slightly—but she was too stunned to speak.

The grasshopper Miss Song had made, even getting hurt in the process… was meant for her?