After Becoming a Scummy Alpha, I Refuse to Get Divorced - Chapter 2

Inside the manor villa, being supported by her delicate little wife, Zhu Qingran was tense from the roots of her hair all the way to her toes.

Even the brand-new, rhinestone-studded manicure peeking out from the tips of her high heels was on the verge of being completely ruined by her anxious picking.

Before stepping inside, Zhu Qingran had mentally rehearsed several different ways to greet her.

For example: “Little wife, don’t resist. Tonight, your king shall grace your chambers.”

After all, with the way things were going, today’s reunion was probably going to move their divorce onto the agenda.

Zhu Qingran clearly remembered that before heading to work this morning, she’d had her seductive secretary deliver the divorce papers to her little wife.

Either they divorced, or she’d have to play dumb.

Zhu Qingran chose the latter.

She could pretend to be drunk—some pushing and pulling, a tumble onto the bed, a bit of teasing, lights off, and afterward everything would be “a happy accident.”

Then she could put on a show of deep sincerity, say their compatibility was too high to ignore, and use that as an excuse to stay married, avoiding the divorce altogether.

The problem was: Zhu Qingran had the imagination for this plan, but zero courage to execute it.

With her little wife supporting her at the side, soothing her with that gentle scent of pheromones, her legs went weak. Her lips parted, but not a single word would come out.

By this point, she wasn’t faking drunkenness so much as faking insanity.

Still, she had to maintain the CEO persona.

Otherwise, her little wife might easily see through her—and discover the mess hiding beneath the polished exterior.

Her little wife was a university lecturer, after all—clear-headed, logical, and sharp.

Trying to pull tricks on her? Zhu Qingran felt she might as well pick out a cemetery plot before the divorce proceedings even began.

Besides, the reason she had originally chosen her as her little wife was precisely because she was obsessed with the charming allure of mature older sisters.

The moment that cool, refreshing mint scent stabbed into her nerves, Zhu Qingran went from tense statue to actively clutching her little wife’s hand.

The scent was so strong it sobered her right up; the two glasses of red wine and brandy she’d downed earlier were nothing. She was wide awake now—too awake—and her plan of “drunken mischief” was a lost cause.

Time to consider the next strategy.

If she acted cute and begged to make up, would that completely destroy her persona?

If she fell to her knees, hugged her wife’s leg, and cried, “Honey, don’t leave me!”—would her little wife suspect she had brain damage?

Zhu Qingran had never gotten headaches from working overtime so many times, yet right now her skull felt like it was splitting open.

All this painful strategizing was raising her temper and her body heat.

She didn’t want to think anymore.

She was hungry.

Gurgle.

The moment her stomach growled, she almost burst into grateful tears.

Finally—she had found a way to save herself.

A prodigal turned good—surely there’d be fried rice somewhere in this house!

“Wife, I’m hungry.”

Just as Du Shiyu was guiding her toward the bedroom, Zhu Qingran seized the moment and spoke up.

Her voice was a little hoarse from all the drinking, schmoozing, and talking she did earlier.

With all that alcohol sloshing in her now-empty stomach, even her tone had softened.

The woman who used to drag Du Shiyu into bed for “exercise” the moment she got home was acting completely unlike herself today.

Tilting her head slightly, she looked at Du Shiyu beside her. Those beautiful eyes of hers seemed to shimmer with a faint layer of mist.

The one who drank was her.

The one who didn’t come home was her.

The one demanding a divorce was her.

So why on earth did she look like the pitiful one?

Du Shiyu froze for a moment, feeling an odd illusion—as if she was the irresponsible, wandering spouse instead.

She didn’t respond immediately; instead, she kept rubbing the wedding band on her ring finger.

It was a simple ring—deliberately plain. Zhu Qingran had lied to the old lady, saying that Du Shiyu preferred minimalist designs.

And Du Shiyu truly did like it. She hadn’t expected to end up wearing it for nearly three years.

Now that she had to take it off, she suddenly felt like no jewelry in the world appealed to her anymore.

She had come into this marriage with her heart in her hands, and now it felt like she was leaving with nothing at all.

“Wife, did you not cook? If not, I can—”

“I cooked.”

Du Shiyu’s two quiet words cut off whatever Zhu Qingran was about to say.

Zhu Qingran had been planning to suggest that if her little wife hadn’t cooked, she would take her out on a date.

Girls liked romance—mature older sisters should also like sweet words, right?

She refused to believe she couldn’t copy at least a few tricks after watching her bosses flirt their way through the office.

She was this close to having her “feral CEO enlightenment arc.”

But, her little wife had cooked.

For someone like Zhu Qingran—single for years, living on takeout 80% of the time—this was enough to make her heart itch with anticipation.

“Then can I eat it?”

The moment she asked, she felt a sudden, ridiculous awkwardness.

Asking whether she could eat the food her own wife cooked.

“I’m really going to eat it, okay?”

Zhu Qingran stepped into the dining room and was about to sit down—when the steady support at her side suddenly left her.

“Go wash your hands. I’ll serve you.” Du Shiyu’s voice was calm as she picked up the rice paddle and a bowl, heading toward the rice cooker.

She showed Zhu Qingran her profile for a moment—then turned, leaving her with nothing but a quiet, distant back view.

Her waist was slender—so delicate it could fit neatly within a single hand.

Yet her figure was far from flat. She had curves where they should be, and nowhere she shouldn’t.

This was what it meant to be truly, breathtakingly shapely.

Her tone, too, was always gentle. Even now, while supporting someone like President Zhu—the notoriously scummy Alpha.

Rather than calling it softness and calm, it was more accurate to say she simply didn’t care. Numb, even.

Zhu Qingran very much wanted another look—to see what kind of beauty this little wife of hers truly was.

She didn’t head to the bathroom. Instead, she strode forward with long legs, the taps of her heels puncturing the cold, heavy air.

Like a curious child, Zhu Qingran leaned against the marble counter, tilting her head, lips parted slightly as she openly stared at Du Shiyu.

Tonight, her makeup was razor-sharp, strikingly beautiful, accentuating every advantage of her dominant Alpha aura.

Even if a male Alpha was present, he would likely be overshadowed by her presence.

And yet, here she was—performing an action wholly unfitting of her image, wearing an expression of innocent bewilderment she had never shown before.

Du Shiyu thought: her partner from this final night together must really be drunk.

On the very night they were meant to part ways, did she still want to play little games?

“Food. Are you eating? If not, go to the bedroom. I’ve already showered.”

Du Shiyu gestured lightly toward the rice bowl, set down the spatula, and began unbuttoning her shirt.

Her movements were clean and practiced, as though this routine had been carved into her bones.

In the blink of an eye, the pale column of her neck appeared, followed by the elegant dip of her collarbones. Next came a generous, eye-catching valley.

Zhu Qingran stepped forward quickly and took the bowl from her hands.

“Wife, food. I’m starving. I can totally eat a big bowl, you know. But you only gave me one scoop. You must not love me anymore.”

Zhu Qingran muttered this in a pitiful, aggrieved tone—then promptly dug herself an enormous spoonful of rice.

The moment she turned away from Du Shiyu, she had to swallow hard.

That scene just now had been far too stimulating.

Even as a strong Alpha, she felt the tremor of desire ripple through her.

Heat cycle or not, she would still react this intensely to her partner’s temptation.

Trying her best to calm her pounding heart, Zhu Qingran sat back at the dining table with a façade of composure.

Four dishes and a soup were laid out. Each small dish was exquisitely made, and the soup was rich and fragrant.

Her little wife’s cooking was truly extraordinary.

“Wife.” Zhu Qingran turned to look at Du Shiyu, eyes curving, smile soft.

But no one could tell whether that smile hid a blade—or was simply laying groundwork for something bolder.

“Mm.” Du Shiyu responded quietly, her long, pale fingers still hooked around a button at her collar.

Those rounded, pink fingertips—healthy nails—every detail tugged mercilessly at the Alpha’s sensitive nerves.

Too tempting.

If she kept watching, Zhu Qingran would lose all interest in dinner.

She might want to eat something else entirely.

Take her little wife apart, thoroughly and completely.

Then toss down the divorce agreement and announce,

“I can’t live without your body. Be my contract lover. We’ll meet each other’s needs.”

The moment that thought flashed across her mind, Zhu Qingran choked on her own saliva and coughed several times.

“C-cough—wife, cough, did you eat yet?”

“I did. You said after nine p.m., I don’t need to wait for you.” Du Shiyu answered softly.

Hearing that, Zhu Qingran understood.

After nine, her little wife needed to prepare lessons and rest. She had work too.

How could a late-night partygoer like her make someone wait so long?

From now on, she must be home before nine!

Having dinner with her wife was essential to maintaining the harmony of a proper CEO household.

Feeling moved by her own resolution, she coughed again.

The gentle hand that rubbed soothing circles on her back made Zhu Qingran shove a mouthful of rice into her mouth immediately.

No—no, I’m trying to be a chaste, self-restrained CEO!

But my little wife keeps dragging me onto the bed of love!

How am I supposed to say no to her?

Just as Zhu Qingran felt she was about to be defeated by the scummy Alpha traits of her original body, she tasted the first bite of the food.

And froze in astonishment.

This wasn’t the greasy heaviness of takeout, nor the sloppy knife work of delivery meals.

This texture, this flavor.

Was this home-cooked food?

For that, the mighty CEO immediately shoveled down two more mouthfuls, eating with none of her usual elegance.

Her usual languid chewing was replaced tonight with more, and more, and more.

Her unexpected enthusiasm made the person beside her subconsciously tighten the buttonhole she had been fiddling with.

Was she chewing like that to express disgust toward their relationship?

Or was she putting on a convincing performance for their last “loving couple” scene—one final act before they parted?

Du Shiyu had never thought of herself as indecisive.

Yet in this moment, she couldn’t help but be drawn to Zhu Qingran’s way of eating.

She didn’t know whether Zhu Qingran truly liked her cooking.

For a fleeting moment, she even wondered if Zhu Qingran wasn’t divorcing her out of hatred.

But she had already received the divorce papers.

She knew this absurd, headless, tailless marriage was coming to an end.

Even though, she really did enjoy the time she had spent as Mrs. Zhu.

Even when she spent her evenings alone, she still tried to live like any other wife, coming home from work, cooking the dishes she was best at, and waiting for her partner to return so they could share a quiet dinner together.

Du Shiyu did that every single day.

She always carved out time to prepare dinner and wait.

But she never once waited long enough to see Zhu Qingran come home.

What she did receive was Zhu Qingran’s dutiful once-a-month “check-in” visits, the bare minimum needed to appease the elders.

Their compatibility had always been limited to pheromones and the bed.

As for everything else, it had never had anything to do with Zhu Qingran.

Du Shiyu tightened her grip slightly and glanced at Zhu Qingran’s way of eating.

“If you like it, I’ll get you another bowl,” she offered, reaching out to take the bowl from her.

But Zhu Qingran set it down.

“Wifey, could you hand me the pot instead?”

Clearly enjoying herself, Zhu Qingran actually asked for the entire rice pot.

Her delicate little wife, caught completely off guard, still handed it over in stunned silence.

The normally elegant, slow-eating CEO proceeded to hold the pot in her arms and eat until her stomach was round and full.

Hic.

“Ahh, that feels amazing.”

Only after she was fed and satisfied did she realize her persona had completely collapsed.

Zhu Qingran tried to compose her expression, adjusted her posture, opened her mouth.

“Sorry, that was a bit improper. I guess compared to those superficial banquets, home really feels like the final destination. So, I wanted to show the person closest to me another side of the ‘CEO.’ If I scared you, I apologize.”

She stood up and gave Du Shiyu a gentlemanly bow.

After all, Zhu Qingran prided herself on mastering the entire library of proper CEO-style sweet talk.

Any cheap tricks a scummy Alpha used were child’s play to her.

Seeing the sudden inward tilt of her little wife’s toes, Zhu Qingran’s lips curled slightly—just a hint.

Forgive her for being a bit perfunctory; if she’d bent any lower, she might have thrown up.

To help her food digest, Zhu Qingran even reached for the dishes.

“I can—do it.”

Her wife tried to snatch them back, but Zhu Qingran gently pressed her fingers aside and turned away.

“You cooked, so I wash. Isn’t that only natural? Your President Zhu doesn’t just sign contracts—she can take care of a home too.”

Even Zhu Qingran was stunned by her own line.

Not quite cheesy, not exactly smooth—but coming from the former playboy Alpha, it suddenly carried weight.

Du Shiyu stopped insisting and instead squinted slightly, falling silent.

Her fingertips brushed the place where Zhu Qingran had touched her, and her face flushed without her noticing.

Meanwhile, Zhu Qingran did indeed look skilled—in just a few moves she had finished washing the dishes and wiping the table.

But water had splashed onto the fitted tweed-style dress she wore.

The moment Du Shiyu stepped forward to help unfasten the buttons,

Zhu Qingran felt her entire body go limp.

What was her little wife trying to do?

Her little wife, actively closing the distance, leaning in with that cool peppermint scent—it plunged Zhu Qingran straight into the depths of heaven and hell.

“Uh, don’t we do anything before bed? Like watch TV or talk?”

She tried desperately to stall, panic rising in her chest.

She had been single for half her life.

Was she really about to get a taste of her lovely wife tonight?

Should she be doing some kind of preparation?

“Your dress is dirty. You always throw out clothes once they’re stained. Are you sure you want it staying on you for more than thirty seconds?”

Du Shiyu searched for the zipper but couldn’t find it at all.

With a helpless gesture, she gave up—but pointed out the simple, brutal fact.

“Seriously? A thirty-second CEO quote and a twenty-thousand-square-foot bed—what’s the difference?”

Grumbling aside, Zhu Qingran still clutched her dress and darted into the bathroom.

“Wifey, if you’re sleepy, go to bed first. I’ll wash up properly—need to scrub off the filth from the banquet. Good night.”

She popped back out again, leaning against the bathroom door, curling a finger toward her wife in a cute good-night gesture.

When Du Shiyu froze, lifting her hand a little, Zhu Qingran screamed internally.

Yes!! Yes, yes, yes!!

Indeed—a loyal, adorable little sweetheart is forever unbeatable!

Silly CEO novels never lied!