Transmigrated Into a Heartless Scumbag Alpha - Chapter 9

Song Yi’s company in her original world was involved in every aspect of the fashion industry, including but not limited to clothing brands, custom footwear, and jewelry.

After pacing around the walk-in closet of the original scumbag Alpha’s body, she had to admit—while the original owner was truly despicable, their taste was impeccable. Having previously overseen and even personally experienced the custom footwear services at her company’s boutiques, she was quite knowledgeable in this area. Judging someone’s shoe size at a glance was second nature to her.

Zhou Zhou was of average height for a woman—Song Yi estimated around 165 cm—with excellent proportions, not too tall, just half a head shorter than her.

However, Zhou Zhou’s feet were noticeably small. Song Yi picked out a pair of size 36 beige round-toe flats, though she couldn’t be entirely certain about the fit. She carried Zhou Zhou to a brown upholstered chair and personally helped her try them on.

To her surprise, the shoes fit Zhou Zhou perfectly. Song Yi smiled, pleased with her own discerning eye.

She was completely unaware that the treatment she had just given Zhou Zhou was something even the most esteemed clients or family members had never received in her previous life.

Only after finishing did she glance at Zhou Zhou, who was clearly stunned, staring down at the shoes in a daze.

The beige round-toe flats appeared no different from ordinary ones on the market at first glance, but upon closer inspection, the fine materials and craftsmanship revealed their understated luxury.

Zhou Zhou’s feet were fair, likely from years of wearing canvas shoes that shielded them from the sun, leaving no visible tan lines. The open-toe design exposed most of her instep, complementing her beautifully.

“Move your feet a little. See if they’re comfortable,” Song Yi said softly, her voice close enough to reach Zhou Zhou’s ears directly.

Zhou Zhou paused for a second before quickly rotating her ankles.

“They’re very comfortable. Thank you, Miss Song.”

Zhou Zhou didn’t assume that just because Miss Song had carried her, she would carry her all the way to their destination. She thought Miss Song had picked out comfortable shoes so she could walk on her own.

So, she obediently loosened her arms from around Miss Song’s neck and lowered her slightly raised feet, ready to step down.

But Song Yi didn’t give her the chance. “Dr. Ding said you need to rest properly and shouldn’t exert yourself. So, I’ll carry you.”

Before her feet could touch the ground, they were lifted even higher. Zhou Zhou’s heart lurched along with them.

It felt like a dream. She was an orphan who grew up in a welfare home, not some pampered young lady from a wealthy family. She had survived the harshest conditions—how could simply walking be considered “exertion” in Miss Song’s eyes?

For a moment, her heart, accustomed to weathering storms, beat erratically—sometimes light, sometimes heavy, sometimes slow, sometimes fast—as if it had slipped entirely out of her control.

Miss Song carried her out the door and into the night.

“It’s raining,” Song Yi remarked, and only then did Zhou Zhou notice the droplets on her face.

“Luckily, it’s not heavy. The villa we’re heading to isn’t far—just a few hundred meters away.” Song Yi quickened her pace, and Zhou Zhou, nestled in her arms, instinctively held her breath, trying to lessen the burden.

“Zhou Zhou, you’re very light,” Song Yi chuckled, easing her worries before adding, “Lift your hand and shield your head from the rain. If you catch a cold, I’d never forgive myself.”

Song Yi never had the habit of carrying an umbrella with her. Even if she saw rain before heading out, she wouldn’t turn back unless it was heavy—choosing instead to brave the drizzle. But this time was different. In her arms, she carried someone. Zhou Zhou was already uncomfortable from her heat period, yet Song Yi had instinctively rushed out with her. As she quickened her pace, she silently reflected on her impulsiveness.

She didn’t notice at all that Zhou Zhou had lifted her hands, forming a makeshift shelter above Song Yi’s head.

Holding Zhou Zhou, she disappeared into the night. Behind them, on the second-floor balcony of the neighboring villa, a tall, slender figure stood rigidly by the railing. Fingernails scraped against the mineral-grained surface, producing a faint, grating sound.

The hazy night obscured details, but the graceful silhouette was unmistakably that of a woman. Her gaze was fixed ahead, though whether she was watching the rain or the two figures vanishing into it was unclear.

…

“Finally, we’re here.” Song Yi carried Zhou Zhou steadily up the steps to the villa’s entrance.

The gilded doors were already open, adorned with intricately carved golden roses that coiled like serpents—exuding an air of wealth.

A kindly-faced woman stood by the entrance, greeting them with a practiced smile, more professional than a luxury hotel manager welcoming VIPs. “Welcome, Miss Song, to the villa under my care.”

Song Yi gave her a slight nod. “Housekeeper Zhang, this is Zhou Zhou, Miss Zhou.” She introduced Zhou Zhou without defining their relationship, simply making it clear that Zhou Zhou was to be treated with equal courtesy.

Housekeeper Zhang smiled warmly. “Welcome, Miss Zhou, to your stay with Miss Song.”

By now, Zhou Zhou had lowered the hands she had used to shield Song Yi from the rain, letting them rest lightly on Song Yi’s shoulders. Faced with the woman’s impeccable manners and formal greeting, Zhou Zhou felt somewhat out of place.

“Thank you,” Zhou Zhou murmured. Whether it was her imagination or not, she sensed that Housekeeper Zhang was far less friendly toward her than Song Yi was—like an instinctive magnetic perception. Behind that smile lay something else, perhaps mockery or disdain.

Having grown up in an orphanage, without the doting care of parents or relatives, Zhou Zhou had learned to read people better than most. Sometimes, just a microexpression was enough to tell whether someone’s words were genuine or false.

But she was used to it—used to the unfriendliness of those around her. Some scorned her for being parentless and without backing, while others envied her beauty, certain she would outshine them.

Her greatest wish was simply to build a better life through her own efforts.

Truthfully, Song Yi didn’t much like this housekeeper either. Beneath her polite tone and demeanor lurked a quiet contempt for Zhou Zhou. Song Yi guessed that, given the original scoundrel Alpha’s personality, she wouldn’t have—

Carrying Zhou Zhou inside, Song Yi even helped her remove her shoes when changing into slippers.

Housekeeper Zhang watched, her wrinkles nearly smoothing out in shock.

Everyone knew Miss Song was adept at wearing a gentle mask, but she would never stoop to such undignified acts. This Omega didn’t belong to any circle befitting Miss Song’s status—who knew where she had been picked up from? Yet not only had Miss Song carried her back through the rain, but she was now personally taking off her shoes!

“Miss Song, I can do it myself,” Zhou Zhou said softly, sensing Housekeeper Zhang’s hostile gaze as she shifted her foot away slightly.

Song Yi had already taken off one of Zhou Zhou’s shoes, thinking she might be feeling shy, so she stopped to let her continue on her own.

After changing her shoes, Zhou Zhou tried to stand up by herself. She declined Miss Song’s kind offer to carry her upstairs and carefully began walking forward instead.

Song Yi followed closely behind, keeping a protective eye on her, when she suddenly realized something was amiss. Watching Zhou Zhou reach the staircase and slowly climb up while holding onto the railing, she turned back.

With a gentle smile, she addressed the butler, Zhang, “You don’t need to stay here anymore. If I need anything, I’ll call for you. Please go and manage the other villa for now.”

After a long pause, Butler Zhang finally replied, “Understood,” before walking away in disbelief.

Song Yi felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She turned back and hurried after Zhou Zhou, who was now standing on the stairs, looking at her with confusion—clearly puzzled by her dismissal of Butler Zhang.

There was really no need to explain, but under Zhou Zhou’s clear, questioning gaze, Song Yi spoke up, “I’m actually quite willful. She didn’t speak very nicely, so I sent her away.”

Zhou Zhou’s expression shifted to one of understanding. She had somehow, foolishly, assumed that Miss Song had done it for her sake. What a ridiculous thought.

Turning away, Zhou Zhou quickly resumed climbing the stairs as if fleeing. Song Yi, baffled, hurried after her.

They arrived at the spacious, well-lit master bedroom on the second floor. Playing the part of the host, Song Yi opened the wardrobe to find a nightgown for Zhou Zhou, only to be met with an array of spaghetti-strap nightdresses in various colors and styles. The only commonality was that they were all a bit too revealing for Zhou Zhou’s taste.

She was certain Zhou Zhou had never worn anything that exposed so much skin. After all, even in summer, when they first met, Zhou Zhou had been dressed in neat long sleeves, full-length pants, and a pair of faded canvas shoes.

Staring at the row of nightdresses—ones even she found too scandalous—Song Yi felt like digging a hole in the villa’s floor out of sheer embarrassment.

It seemed the heavens were determined to paint her as anything but proper in Zhou Zhou’s eyes.

Worried that picking one out herself might cause an even bigger misunderstanding, she smiled and beckoned Zhou Zhou over. “Come pick one you like.”