Transmigrated Into a Heartless Scumbag Alpha - Chapter 8

The gentle, smiling voice of the Alpha slipped into her ears—Miss Song was genuinely asking about her preferences, not just being polite out of courtesy.

Zhou Zhou’s heart raced for a moment, as if a lively little rabbit had somehow taken up residence inside it.

Her gaze flickered between the three images on the phone screen in front of her, and Miss Song showed no sign of impatience, merely leaning forward slightly as she waited quietly for her answer.

The phone lay in Miss Song’s palm, and Zhou Zhou’s thoughts wandered briefly before she quickly reeled them back in, her face growing warm.

“I like this one.”

Zhou Zhou finally made her decision, lightly tapping the middle image with her index finger.

“Good.” Song Yi smiled as she took the phone back.

The three villas had similar interior layouts, differing mainly in their decorative styles. The first resembled a medieval European castle, evoking a sense of weight and mystery. The second—the one Zhou Zhou had chosen—had a more Chinese aesthetic, with bright, warm-toned decor that felt cozy. The third had a slightly rough steampunk vibe, its bizarre interior reminding Song Yi of a nightclub.

“Just as I thought.” Song Yi chuckled. She had guessed Zhou Zhou would pick this one.

Zhou Zhou glanced up, and their eyes met—only then did they realize how close they were. Earlier, Song Yi had kept inching forward to let Zhou Zhou see better, and now their heads were nearly touching.

Song Yi paused, watching as Zhou Zhou quickly leaned back, creating space between them. The faint, sweet scent of cherries at the tip of her nose dissipated.

I should buy some cherries, Song Yi thought.

Zhou Zhou pressed against the raised headboard of the bed, with nowhere left to retreat. Miss Song hadn’t done anything, so why did she feel so flustered?

Before she could figure it out, Miss Song leaned in again.

“Your face is so red—are you feeling unwell?”

Zhou Zhou held her breath. Miss Song’s slender, pale fingers nearly brushed her cheek but stopped for some reason.

Instead, they moved upward, four fingers pressing together as the back of her hand lightly touched Zhou Zhou’s forehead, then her own.

“It’s fine. Your temperature is normal, nothing unusual.” Song Yi lowered her hand.

“It’s getting late. Let’s move over there as soon as possible so you can rest properly.”

Song Yi hadn’t considered that Zhou Zhou’s flushed face might be due to anything other than a fever. She stood to retrieve the Inhibitor and Barrier patch Dr. Ding had left behind.

She completely missed the sight of Zhou Zhou sitting on the bed, patting her burning cheeks with both hands.

By the time Song Yi returned with the Inhibitor and Barrier patch, Zhou Zhou had already lowered her hands, head bowed as if lost in thought.

Song Yi sat beside her again, holding an Inhibitor, and asked softly, “Are you afraid of needles?”

Zhou Zhou shook her head. Her hands emerged from under the blanket as she rolled up the right sleeve of her long-sleeved shirt, baring her arm as if ready for the injection.

The fair, jade-like arm, tinged with a faint blush, lay exposed before Song Yi. She took hold of it, the needle just a millimeter away from Zhou Zhou’s skin—yet for some reason, she hesitated.

A thought flashed through her mind: How could anyone puncture such a lovely arm with a needle?

“Miss Song?”

Zhou Zhou’s puzzled voice pulled Song Yi out of her strange musings. “Is there something wrong with my arm?”

“No.” Song Yi denied it immediately. The problem was entirely hers.

“Bear with it—it’ll be over soon.”

Song Yi watched as Zhou Zhou closed her eyes before resolutely administering the injection. Once the inhibitor was fully injected, she withdrew the needle and pressed a cotton swab against the tiny wound, her hands trembling slightly.

She realized what had felt off—she had no experience giving injections, yet she’d recklessly proceeded just now. Fortunately, nothing had gone wrong.

The bleeding stopped quickly. Song Yi set aside the bloodied cotton swab and took out a barrier patch.

Dr. Ding had prepared both regular and high-strength barrier patches. After a moment’s hesitation, Song Yi chose a regular one for Zhou Zhou. Since her condition was stable, a high-strength patch might do more harm than good. Besides, it could be removed once they moved, so a regular one would suffice.

“Zhou Zhou, would you prefer to apply it yourself, or should I help?” Song Yi held up a barrier patch, seeking Zhou Zhou’s opinion.

Now that both were fully conscious, the scent gland—such an intimate area—wasn’t something to be touched casually by others. Yet applying it alone would be inconvenient, so she felt compelled to ask.

Zhou Zhou didn’t respond verbally. Instead, she lowered her head and swept her waterfall of silky black hair to one side, revealing a stretch of snow-white neck. There, in the center of her nape, lay the translucent, jelly-like softness of her scent gland, completely exposed and unguarded before Song Yi.

Song Yi inhaled softly, unable to comprehend why Zhou Zhou trusted her so implicitly.

But she wasn’t the original scumbag Alpha. At the very least, she could honor Zhou Zhou’s trust and refrain from taking advantage of her vulnerability.

Still, she had to admit—even in her sober state—Zhou Zhou’s scent gland held an irresistible allure for her. It was a physiological reaction beyond her control. What she could take solace in was that while her thoughts might stray, her actions remained disciplined.

She peeled open the small packaging of the barrier patch and gently pressed the bandage-sized patch onto Zhou Zhou’s scent gland, smoothing it with her fingertips. She could feel Zhou Zhou’s body tremble slightly, even shrinking away, so she withdrew her hand the moment the patch was secured.

Zhou Zhou lifted her head to look at her. Her usually clear eyes now held a misty haze, as if on the verge of tears from being mistreated. But Zhou Zhou only sniffled lightly and said, “Thank you, Miss Song.”

Song Yi exhaled in sudden relief. Heaven knew that when Zhou Zhou had looked up at her just then, she’d felt like the most heinous criminal alive.

Given Zhou Zhou’s earlier sensitivity, Song Yi selected a high-strength barrier patch for herself. Without waiting for Zhou Zhou to speak, she swiftly applied it. While packing up the box, she noticed Dr. Ding’s thoughtful arrangement.

“Miss Song’s use” and “Miss Zhou’s use” were separated by a white line, clearly demarcated. In her earlier haste, Song Yi had missed the small note standing in the middle.

She smiled wryly. Dr. Ding truly understood the original scumbag Alpha all too well.

There wasn’t much to pack here, so Song Yi only took her phone. Zhou Zhou had even fewer belongings. Together, they set off for the new villa.

However, an Omega in heat was weak and lethargic, making even walking difficult.

Standing by the bed, Song Yi pondered before sighing. “I didn’t think this through. Can you walk?”

Zhou Zhou, experiencing her first heat with no prior frame of reference, hesitated to make assumptions. “I’ll try,” she said.

Song Yi watched as Zhou Zhou pushed back the blankets and moved to get out of bed. There were no slippers, and just as Zhou Zhou’s bare feet were about to touch the cold marble floor, Song Yi—fearing she might catch a chill—scooped her up into her arms.

“Miss Song…” Zhou Zhou was startled, her hands instinctively wrapping around Song Yi’s neck out of fear, now unsure whether to let go or not.

Having already started, Song Yi was the type who never looked back once the arrow left the bow. She straightforwardly asked the person in her arms, “Can I carry you over?”

“…Mhm.” Zhou Zhou lowered her head and agreed softly.

If at first Zhou Zhou had been uncertain whether she could walk and was willing to try, now that she was nestled in Miss Song’s embrace, she had no strength left—she could only agree, and more than that, she wanted to.

This was a rare, beautiful dream in her bleak life. Just for a few days, let her indulge in this dream. When she woke, the days ahead wouldn’t feel so unbearable—at least she had once been illuminated.

Song Yi carried Zhou Zhou out of the room, her mind focused on quickly reaching the other villa, untouched by the original scummy Alpha. She had no idea the Omega in her arms was lost in wild thoughts.

When they reached the first floor, just before stepping outside, Song Yi paused at the hidden walk-in closet by the entrance. Glancing down at Zhou Zhou’s exposed, delicate feet, she pressed a switch and walked in—she wanted to find Zhou Zhou a pair of shoes.

The villa was cool and comfortable, but outside, the summer heat was relentless. Though going barefoot wouldn’t cause a chill, Song Yi still wanted to find her shoes. For some reason, she didn’t want others to see Zhou Zhou’s beautiful bare feet—even though night had already fallen, even though this villa area was nearly devoid of idle onlookers.

Zhou Zhou had never seen such a luxurious walk-in closet before. Shoes alone occupied an entire wall, each pair housed in a small compartment behind elegant glass cases, more dazzling than any boutique window she’d ever passed.

It was like stepping into Cinderella’s world. As an ordinary girl, she was seeing Cinderella’s glass slippers—but she was no Cinderella.

She assumed Miss Song was meticulously selecting a pair of shoes for their outing, perhaps a habit of the wealthy.

She watched quietly, neither speaking nor disturbing.

Finally, Miss Song stopped before a pair of lovely, comfortable beige round-toe flats. Zhou Zhou pondered—this size didn’t seem to match Miss Song’s feet.

Having found the right pair, Song Yi sat down on a brown leather sofa chair with Zhou Zhou still in her arms, inwardly scoffing at the original scummy Alpha. Shoes of every size could be found in this closet—she must have toyed with countless girls.

Still, it was convenient for finding shoes for Zhou Zhou. She bent down to slip them onto Zhou Zhou’s feet, who was now seated on her lap, her heart surging with overwhelming emotion.

So, Miss Song had been looking for shoes for her all along.