After Becoming a Scummy Alpha, I Refuse to Get Divorced - Chapter 1

Inside the grand banquet hall of the Interstellar Empire Hotel, an exuberant high-society gala was underway.

Cups clinked, lights shimmered in the dim air, and scents of every kind swirled and mingled—an all-out assault on the senses.

The heavy mix of floral perfume and liquor filled her nose, and Zhu Qingran sneezed violently on the spot, her sense of smell instantly lagging.

Her hand, still holding a glass of wine, wobbled. For a moment, she nearly retched.

“President Zhu, it’s all thanks to your help that our new product passed inspection so smoothly. With your brilliance, I’m sure we’ll dominate the new couple-accessory market!”

The slightly greasy-looking male Alpha business partner raised his glass, then ushered a soft, curvy Omega woman closer to her.

The female Omega had an excellent figure—slender waist, generous curves, sweet, delicate features—perfectly aligned with Zhu Qingran’s usual tastes.

But the moment that cloying white-chocolate pheromone scent burst out, Zhu Qingran coughed sharply.

Her olfactory system was officially fried.

The emerald earrings on her ears vibrated violently, nearly deafening her.

These earrings were IO Group’s newly developed Premier Couple Emotion Tuner.

This new product targeted the prevalent strong-A/weak-ABO pairing dynamic.

To encourage and deepen emotional bonds between partners, the tuner would deliver alerts under specific conditions or environments.

Which was why, at this moment, the tuner’s shrill alarm was telling her loud and clear:

Your partner would be very unhappy with what you’re doing right now.

Even though Zhu Qingran was a top-tier female Alpha, she still, after a moment of consideration, left the banquet early for the sake of maintaining her relationship.

“President Zhu, I’m very interested in your new product. Can’t you stay just a little longer and tell me more about it?”

The sweet Omega tried desperately to keep her.

Her curvy body pressed closer and closer to Zhu Qingran’s arm, her rich pheromone scent practically begging this rare strong Alpha of the Empire for attention.

Unfortunately for her, Zhu Qingran—who once indulged in every flower garden she passed—had absolutely no intention of staying.

The domineering CEO whose divorce rumors were broadcast more punctually than the morning news had actually decided to go home on time.

The reason:

“My wife says the house has a curfew. If I miss it, I can sleep in the park.”

Everyone was stunned.

But the woman in the stretched luxury sports car looked utterly miserable.

Zhu Qingran—a modern, overworked corporate slave—had transmigrated overnight into the body of a scummy Alpha CEO.

All because of one desperate outburst while being exploited during overtime illustration work.

Just a few hours ago, she had been burning the midnight oil in her office, trying to finish a game character design.

Her damn boss, meanwhile, was happily posting photos with his mistress, bragging about how this was the “real” life.

Zhu Qingran scoffed at the screen, then looked up at the ceiling and wailed:

“If I ever become a CEO, I swear I’ll be a Five-Good Boss—no mistresses, no exploitation! Starting with me!”

She wailed once more, blinked.

And suddenly arrived here.

If she hadn’t frequently glanced at the monitor of the guy in the next cubicle, she wouldn’t have known where she was at all.

But yes—she had landed squarely inside the ABO novel that guy loved reading, becoming the scummy Alpha CEO cannon fodder.

When she woke up to her office secretary’s flirtatious gesture, she nearly shoved the woman straight off the eighteenth floor and into the underground parking lot.

She was a woman—being flirted with by a woman.

And the worst part was, she actually enjoyed that intoxicating scent that wasn’t perfume but stronger than perfume.

Amid the assistant’s and collaborators’ shocked expressions, Zhu Qingran slowly regained her composure.

She had transmigrated.

Into a novel titled “Stay Away from Scummy Alphas—Starting with Me.”

And according to the plot so far, she—this scummy Alpha—was in the middle of flirting with her secretary.

After all, she was about to finalize her divorce from her delicate little wife.

Soon she would be free to plunge into the arms of all her flirty lovers.

Later, she would die—killed by the very emotion tuner she invented.

Because she kept so many lovers that the device couldn’t determine whom she was supposed to be faithful to.

So, it simply electrocuted her.

A top-tier Alpha CEO turned into a mealtime joke for the masses.

Afterward, her company was handed to someone more competent, and her delicate young wife found true love.

In short, it was the protagonist’s growth story and her personal tragedy.

The boss she’d once wailed to become?

She had become her.

But her dream of being a “Five-Good CEO” died instantly.

To change her fate.

To avoid being abandoned by all and die like an idiot.

Zhu Qingran made up her mind.

She might be a chronically single, loveless workhorse, but even as a female Alpha, she could still make someone fall head over heels for her.

Of course.

That someone could only be her designated little wife.

That very day, Zhu Qingran reassigned the long-neglected outer-office Beta secretary to work directly by her side.

As for the coquettish secretary who had tried to throw herself into her arms?

She was promptly transferred to the outer office to handle printing.

President Zhu’s official explanation was: Her teacher, Professor Du, always taught that opportunities should be given to those who are prepared for advancement at all times.

Of course, that Beta secretary had never expected to outshine the Omega secretary for a promotion. After all, an outer-office post wasn’t poorly paid, the workload was light, and best of all—she didn’t need to curry favor with a scummy Alpha.

But now that President Zhu had tossed out such a well-reasoned justification, no one could say a thing.

To put it bluntly, what Zhu Qingran meant was:

My wife doesn’t like me fooling around with you people, so I won’t fool around.

By evening, a message had already spread through IO Group’s headquarters.

The Imperial Empire’s Number One CEO—IO Group’s very own Zhu Qingran—has changed her taste. Seductive charm is out; soft, busty cuties are in!

The news was a hundred percent accurate—straight from internal sources.

Which was why, at the banquet, all those voluptuous beauties ended up squeezing together around her.

Inside her sports car, Zhu Qingran leaned against the door, inhaling the cool air to calm the ripples in her chest.

In the Interstellar Empire, both men and women had ranks—a classic ABO hierarchy.

Alphas could marry any of the three categories: A, B, or O.

And because Alphas held absolute advantage, they were further divided into four tiers: D, C, B, and A. An Alpha could undergo secondary differentiation around the age of twenty-five.

Naturally, that differentiation could land them in any of the ABO classifications.

But the rarest case of all was an Alpha evolving directly into the strongest class—S-rank.

Zhu Qingran was about to turn twenty-five. Her differentiation period was right around the corner.

She practically found herself clasping her hands together in prayer every few minutes.

Please don’t differentiate.

Please, just stop.

I’m only an A-rank, and I’ve already nearly flirted my way across the entire galaxy.

If I turn into an S-rank, how is the Empire supposed to contain me?

Ridiculous.

After silently roasting herself, the car finally turned onto the manor road in the outskirts.

Familiar scenery slid into view, and Zhu Qingran instinctively searched for the landscape that belonged to her.

It was a brightly lit manor, silhouettes faintly visible behind the windows.

Even from a distance, she could tell the figure was graceful and elegant.

Her little wifey was absolutely top-tier.

Look at how wonderful her spouse was—Zhu Qingran honestly doubted how she ever had the heart to run around outside.

What a bastard I am.

The car didn’t pull directly into the parking area. Instead, it stopped a few meters away, partly hidden behind a large tree.

“President Zhu, would you like to get out?” the driver asked.

He was a quiet, steady Beta—but Zhu Qingran wondered why someone this capable would ask such an obvious question.

“Of course I’m getting out. I’ve been saying I’m going home. If I don’t go home, am I supposed to sleep in the park?”

The CEO replied with absolute dominance, pushed the door open, and headed straight for the house.

Watching her practically sprint toward the villa, the driver felt a jolt of alarm.

Was his boss drunk?

She hadn’t asked him to take a photo for proof to appease the old madam.

She hadn’t asked him to turn the car around and head back to the nightlife district.

Only when Zhu Qingran reached the villa door, fumbled for her keys, and was finally let inside by someone from the household did the driver accept reality.

He dialed a number and delivered the heavy news:

“President Zhu’s gone in. The doorknob shook—pretty sure it’s locked. Tonight’s drinking party is canceled. Go home, everyone. Back to your own moms.”