Transmigrated Into a Heartless Scumbag Alpha - Chapter 30

After You Xuechu walked away, Zhou Zhou prepared to leave the room.

She turned her back to Miss Song and said, “I’ll go downstairs first to prepare lunch. Miss Song should hurry and take a shower too.”

Before Song Yi could even utter a single “Okay,” Zhou Zhou swiftly dashed out the door, leaving her alone.

The faint sweet scent of cherries still lingered in the room.

Song Yi turned and walked into the bathroom, where Zhou Zhou’s pheromones mixed with the fragrance of shower gel still hung in the air.

…

After leaving the room, Zhou Zhou hurried downstairs in a flurry. Before she even reached the kitchen, she caught the aroma of food. Her footsteps paused as she rested her right hand on the spiral staircase railing.

Miss You had only asked her to cook a bowl of noodles each day. The rest of the time, there were presumably professional chefs handling the meals. Standing on the stairs, she suddenly found herself unsure of what to do.

At that moment, You Xuechu was sitting on the cream-white sofa in the living room. Dressed in a white chiffon blouse and white suit pants, her fair skin nearly blended into the milky-white sofa. In her palm, she held a touch of green—her fingers gently fiddling with the wings of a grasshopper. Though lifelike, it was, unfortunately, fake and wouldn’t actually jump.

Leaning back, the soft cream sofa supported her, and from this angle, she could clearly see Zhou Zhou standing motionless on the stairs.

Perhaps she wasn’t the only one feeling bored.

You Xuechu raised a hand and waved lightly. “Zhou Zhou, come here.”

Zhou Zhou snapped out of her daze, flustered as if caught slacking off at work by her boss, and quickly approached.

“Miss You, did you need something?” Zhou Zhou asked.

You Xuechu lifted her gaze to meet Zhou Zhou’s, then stood up after a moment. “Zhou Zhou, you’re my guest. There’s no need to be so nervous or do so much. Just cooking me a bowl of noodles every day is enough.”

“But…” Zhou Zhou still felt uneasy, as if she were taking advantage of the situation.

Seeing that persuasion wasn’t working, You Xuechu decided to change tactics. “If you really need to do something to feel at ease, why not play a game of chess with me? I’m bored to death.”

“Sorry, Miss You, I don’t know how to play chess,” Zhou Zhou replied sheepishly, lowering her head. She had never learned chess—only the simplest game of Gomoku.

“Ah…” You Xuechu sighed in disappointment. Was she doomed to playing digital chess on her phone?

Sensing Miss You’s low spirits and genuine desire to play, Zhou Zhou hesitated before finally gathering the courage to ask, “Miss You, I know how to play Gomoku. Would you like to…?”

“Yes!” You Xuechu’s mood instantly brightened, as if she had been set alight. She immediately fetched the family’s treasured chess set and set up the board.

“Which color do you want?” You Xuechu let Zhou Zhou choose first.

“Either is fine,” Zhou Zhou said.

“Then I’ll take red. You can have green.” You Xuechu eagerly handed the green pieces to Zhou Zhou.

And so, the two used the red and green chess pieces as substitutes for black and white, playing Gomoku.

“Zhou Zhou, you’re amazing!” You Xuechu lost three games in a row, with Zhou Zhou finishing each one swiftly.

Unaccustomed to praise, Zhou Zhou mumbled, “Just lucky.”

You Xuechu continued to compliment her. “Zhou Zhou, if you learned chess, you’d be unstoppable. Are you interested in learning?”

Zhou Zhou shook her head; she wasn’t interested in chess. The only reason she knew how to play Gomoku was because the rules were simple. Back in the orphanage, there weren’t many games to play, but Gomoku happened to be one of them. Everyone took turns, with the loser stepping down. That was how Zhou Zhou had honed her skills—Gomoku had accompanied her through many leisurely childhood hours.

In today’s technologically advanced society, people are obsessed with various electronic games, and new forms of entertainment emerge endlessly. Few still enjoy chess, but You Xuechu happened to be one of them, often frustrated by the lack of opponents to play against.

She could play on her phone, but it always felt like she was facing an algorithm rather than a real person—boring.

You Xuechu smiled and didn’t press further, simply saying, “Two more rounds, then we’ll eat.”

Zhou Zhou nodded in agreement.

Thus, when Song Yi came downstairs after her shower, this was the scene she encountered: You Xuechu and Zhou Zhou sitting together on the sofa with a chessboard between them, the atmosphere harmonious as both were deeply engrossed.

She walked over and stood behind Zhou Zhou for a long time, but You Xuechu, focused on the game, didn’t even notice her.

They were playing Gomoku. Zhou Zhou was calm and decisive with her moves, while You Xuechu hesitated and agonized over hers. The outcome was quickly decided.

After watching one round, Song Yi genuinely felt Zhou Zhou was quite skilled at Gomoku. As for You Xuechu, she excelled at more complex games like chess but rarely found anyone to play with.

Regarding chess, one scene from the novel left a deep impression on Song Yi. It was when You Xuechu had just agreed to be with the original Scumbag Alpha. Thinking the Scumbag Alpha had played games with her to help her fit in and even shared meals, she invited the Alpha into her world, wanting to share her love for chess. But the Scumbag Alpha, consumed by lust, had simply pushed You Xuechu onto the chessboard.

Even now, recalling this scene made Song Yi furious. She wished someone who truly cared for You Xuechu could play chess with her, but the original novel never fulfilled this regret.

Watching Zhou Zhou accompany You Xuechu in playing Gomoku, Song Yi thought that even though the game had changed, at least You Xuechu was happy at this moment—and Zhou Zhou seemed happy too.

Only Song Yi felt a subtle unease.

In truth, Zhou Zhou had long noticed Miss Song’s arrival. Miss Song carried the same shower gel scent as her and stood so close behind her—how could she possibly miss it?

“Lunch is ready, Miss You. You may eat now,” a middle-aged woman in a full white chef’s uniform said kindly as she emerged from the kitchen, addressing You Xuechu, who was still engrossed in the game. She was the private chef hired by You Xuechu’s parents to take care of her meals. She was particularly enthusiastic today, as the house had two rare guests, and she had gone all out, hoping Miss You and her friends would enjoy the meal.

Though You Xuechu had many grievances with her parents, she wouldn’t take them out on the staff. She tilted her head and said, “Thank you. We’ll eat after this round. You can rest now.”

The chef retreated. As You Xuechu prepared to resume the game, she suddenly noticed Song Yi standing behind Zhou Zhou, wearing matching loungewear—though in different colors. Zhou Zhou’s was orange, while Song Yi’s was light blue. The size didn’t fit Song Yi either; the pants were noticeably a bit too short.

Something’s fishy.

Song Yi felt somewhat uneasy under You Xuechu’s intense gaze and offered an awkward yet polite smile in return.

She hoped You Xuechu would focus on the game instead of scrutinizing her with the sharp eyes of a detective solving a case.

You Xuechu seemed to have thought of something, giving a slight shudder before shifting her gaze away with a hint of disdain.

Song Yi was momentarily taken aback, but after a brief contemplation, she understood—You Xuechu must have mistaken her for the pervert who had sneaked into Zhou Zhou’s room and even worn Zhou Zhou’s clothes.

Song Yi: “…”

Finally, the match ended with You Xuechu’s victory. Surprised that she had won despite her distraction, You Xuechu simply assumed Zhou Zhou had gone easy on her to make her happy, completely unaware that she wasn’t the only one whose mind had wandered during the game.

“Let’s eat, let’s eat.” You Xuechu casually scattered the chess pieces, stood up, and led the way to the dining table.

Song Yi followed behind Zhou Zhou, who didn’t once glance back. You Xuechu had already taken her seat at the head of the table and, observing Song Yi trailing silently behind Zhou Zhou, couldn’t help but associate her with a stalker who preyed on young women—though this one was admittedly more attractive and, so far, hadn’t done anything particularly outrageous to Zhou Zhou. For now, she decided to remove Song Yi from the “pervert” category.

Song Yi had no idea how her identity had shifted in You Xuechu’s convoluted train of thought. She simply wanted to stay near Zhou Zhou a little longer.

Only after sitting down at the table did Zhou Zhou finally glance at Miss Song. Noticing that Miss Song was wearing loungewear identical to hers, she froze briefly before dismissing the thought—Miss Song had no spare clothes here, so borrowing from her wardrobe was only natural.

“Dig in, dig in.” You Xuechu started eating first. Perhaps the mental exertion of playing Gomoku with chess pieces had worked up her appetite.

She couldn’t be bothered with whatever silent exchanges were happening between the other two at the table—food took priority.

After the meal, she eagerly returned to the sofa, ready for another round of chess. Since Song Yi and Zhou Zhou were still eating, she sorted the chess pieces by color herself and amused herself with a grasshopper toy.

At the table, Zhou Zhou tentatively asked, “Miss Song, do you know how to play chess?”

“I do,” Song Yi answered truthfully. In her original world, she had been forced to learn many things from a young age—chess, Go, piano, calligraphy, painting, tea ceremony, golf… She was proficient in most, though she disliked the majority. She had followed her parents’ arrangements to study these skills to avoid “falling behind at the starting line,” and many of these abilities had indeed proven useful in business dealings later on. Her parents had been right.

Zhou Zhou took a quiet breath, thinking this could be a breakthrough. Summoning her courage, she suggested, “Miss Song, perhaps you could play a round of chess with Miss You later? It might help mend your relationship.”

“I don’t like it.” Song Yi lifted her gaze, her eyes sharp and resolute as they met Zhou Zhou’s.

Zhou Zhou felt as if struck by that gaze, her heart racing in confusion. Was Miss Song referring to chess—or to the person?

She didn’t have the courage to ask further. She had no standing, no right.

“I’m done eating.” Zhou Zhou set down her bowl and retreated to You Xuechu’s side.

Song Yi followed closely behind. She saw You Xuechu lounging lazily on the sofa, playing with a lifelike green grasshopper in her hand, treating it with great care.

A pang of unease struck Song Yi—had Zhou Zhou given that to You Xuechu?

You Xuechu noticed Song Yi’s gaze and closed her fingers over the green grasshopper, only opening her palm again when asking Zhou Zhou: “You made this, didn’t you? Can you give it to me?”

Zhou Zhou nodded lightly—it was just a casually made grasshopper after all. If Miss You liked it, she was naturally willing to give it away.

But when she slightly turned her head and saw Miss Song’s displeased expression, her heart suddenly clenched.

She remembered how Miss Song had given her that grasshopper made with her own bleeding hands. She hadn’t given Miss Song anything in return yet. If she agreed to give this grasshopper to Miss You, would Miss Song misunderstand again?

Song Yi continued staring at the grasshopper Zhou Zhou had made in You Xuechu’s hand. You Xuechu looked up at her, “Song Yi, do you want one too? But I think a grasshopper doesn’t suit you—you should weave a butterfly instead.”

Song Yi understood You Xuechu was subtly mocking her for being fickle, like a fluttering butterfly—probably meant for Zhou Zhou’s ears. Song Yi didn’t particularly mind and quietly withdrew her gaze, saying, “I’ll take my leave now.”

You Xuechu suddenly regretted her quick tongue. Speaking ill of Song Yi in front of someone Song Yi liked wasn’t good, but words once spoken were like water spilled—impossible to retrieve.

After reluctantly watching Miss Song leave, Zhou Zhou noticed Miss You seemed unhappy.

Back in school, classmates had said love was a bittersweet mix, an excruciatingly complex flavor. Now she knew it was true.

You Xuechu pulled Zhou Zhou into two more rounds of Gomoku before heading upstairs to rest, urging Zhou Zhou to do the same. Unable to stay idle, Zhou Zhou wanted to work, but the housekeeping staff had finished everything. She stepped outside and returned to the lawn.

Zhou Zhou recalled Miss Song’s sorrowful gaze at the grasshopper and Miss You’s remark about her weaving a butterfly.

Kneeling in the grass, she picked two blades and, weaving them together, crafted two lifelike butterflies. As she gently stroked them, her right index finger was nicked by a sharp edge.

Thinking of the similar cut on Miss Song’s left index finger, Zhou Zhou smiled, her heart swelling with bittersweet warmth.

Looking at her slightly bleeding finger, she secretly thought: Now she finally had something in common with Miss Song—however insignificant, it was enough to make her happy all day.

…

Returning to her villa, Song Yi went straight to her second-floor room and changed out of her loungewear. Only when hunger struck in the evening did she go downstairs for food.

Without much hope, she opened the fridge—only to find the cherries she’d finished that morning replenished with a fresh batch.

It was Zhou Zhou.

A flicker of warmth rose in Song Yi’s chest, pushing away all tangled thoughts. She brought the cherries to the table and ate every single one.

Ding Chen suddenly called to check on her, hanging up shortly after.

Then, like a tidal wave, emptiness and loneliness engulfed Song Yi. In her original world, there was always endless work. Now, with too much free time, she desperately needed something to do.

She remembered her purpose in this story: to change Zhou Zhou’s life trajectory, shielding her from scumbags and ensuring her happiness.

While Song Yi could currently suppress the original scumbag Alpha’s instincts, the best way to protect Zhou Zhou was to help her find her birth parents and fiancée—giving her a powerful support system.

The problem was, Song Yi realized she couldn’t recall any useful information. She only remembered that Zhou Zhou’s parents and fiancée appeared when Zhou Zhou had already grown quite powerful. Their appearances were brief, with little description. Song Yi’s memory was hazy; she couldn’t remember the names of these minor plot characters at all. All she knew was that they were currently developing their careers abroad.

Song Yi pinched the bridge of her nose. Even if it was like searching for a needle in a haystack, she had to try. She pulled up the contact for the person in charge of information gathering at the Song Corporation on her phone and made a request: to screen overseas Chinese businesspeople, especially those with missing daughters, compile the data, and send it to her.

The person in charge of information collection at the Song Corporation found the request absurd but still agreed to the future boss’s demand.

After handling this, Song Yi got up from the dining table and went out to the garden for a walk. As she stepped onto the lawn, she recalled cutting grass with Zhou Zhou that morning, surrounded by the fresh scent of grass, with Zhou Zhou teaching her how to make grasshoppers from the blades.

Unconsciously, she found herself by the fountain. The quiet fountain suddenly lit up with blue-purple lights, and the water jets sprayed from the center of the pool, forming what looked like the shape of a flower. Song Yi remembered how Zhou Zhou’s eyes had sparkled with curiosity about the fountain that day, and her heart stirred.

She had deliberately kept it a mystery, saying it could only be seen on a special night. But now Zhou Zhou couldn’t see it, and watching it alone felt rather dull.

After quietly observing for a while, she took out her phone, snapped a still photo, and sent it over.

She followed up with a message: It’s dark now. You can see the fountain.

At that moment, Zhou Zhou had just finished dinner with Miss You and returned to her room to rest. When she received Miss Song’s message, she hesitated before opening it.

Upon opening it, she saw it was the fountain—the one she hadn’t had the chance to see before leaving with Miss You.

The blue-purple glow was slightly blurry but still beautiful.

She replied to Miss Song: Thank you, Miss Song. I see it. It’s very pretty.

Song Yi received the reply, rolled over in bed, typed out a response, then deleted it.

In the end, she only sent: Good night.

Zhou Zhou replied with the same.

Song Yi lay in bed but couldn’t fall asleep.

Zhou Zhou wasn’t asleep either. She thought that since Miss Song was probably going to bed now, if she sneaked over to see the fountain, she wouldn’t run into Miss Song, right?

For some reason, Zhou Zhou really wanted to see that dazzling, beautiful fountain with her own eyes. After wrestling with the idea for a few minutes, she made a bold decision—she would sneak over quietly. If she was careful, neither Miss You nor Miss Song would notice.

Zhou Zhou changed into the white dress she had arrived in, its skirt flaring like gardenia petals, and tiptoed out the door. She remembered the way back to Miss Song’s villa.

The streetlights lit the way brightly, and there wasn’t a soul in sight. She felt a little scared, but when she saw the lights still on in Miss Song’s villa garden, her fear eased slightly. She quickened her pace silently, her swaying skirt tracing elegant arcs in the night breeze.

Finally, she reached the gate of Miss Song’s villa. But she couldn’t just open the door and go in—she had always entered with Miss Song before.

Peering through the iron gate, she saw that while the garden was lit, the area around the medium-sized fountain was dark. She didn’t know where the trick was, so she stood there quietly, waiting.

Unable to sleep after lying in bed for a long time, Song Yi irritably switched on the bedside lamp and got up to stand by the floor-to-ceiling window. Her gaze drifted aimlessly outside before suddenly fixing on one spot, her eyes lighting up.

She saw Zhou Zhou!