After Becoming a Scummy Alpha, I Was Spoiled by a Sweet Omega - Chapter 81

Ning Xuan was dying to know the inside story, so she readily agreed. “Sure! Oh, right, Yazhi is here too. We’ll come over together in a bit.”

Shang Li paused for a moment upon hearing that, then gave a brief “Mm” before hanging up.

Shortly after, she sent the address and time via WeChat: [Sanwei Hot Pot in Hengzhuang. See you at seven.]

Ning Xuan replied: [Got it.]

The hot pot restaurant wasn’t far from their hotel. Since they still had over an hour before their meeting, Ning Xuan decided to take Yu Yazhi for a stroll. Being a famous film city, the streets were lined with celebrity posters and merchandise. One particular cafe had even become a popular spot for social media influencers.

Shortly after they stepped inside, a female influencer spotted them. She had the classic “internet celebrity” look—large eyes, a high bridge on her nose, and a sharp chin. Her makeup was exquisite, and she carried herself with an elegant air.

Introducing herself as “Xiao Xiang Mia,” she explained that she was a food blogger and a fan of Ning Xuan. She politely asked for a commemorative photo.

Ning Xuan, who always doted on her fans, was about to agree when she remembered Yu Yazhi was right beside her. She turned to her partner, consciously seeking permission. “Yazhi, is it okay?”

Yu Yazhi, who had initially felt a bit sour, immediately brightened up. “Of course.”

In a relationship, it’s often the attitude that matters most—knowing how to maintain boundaries with others. Ning Xuan had handled it perfectly. Satisfied, Yu Yazhi even offered to help. “I’ll take the photo for you.”

Xiao Xiang Mia hurriedly handed over her phone. “Thank you!”

While she wasn’t actually a die-hard fan, she knew a photo with a major star like Ning Xuan was incredibly valuable. She hadn’t expected the pair to be so approachable, which left her with a great impression.

Back at her seat, the influencer drafted a long post for Weibo. Beyond praising Ning Xuan, she gushed about their relationship:

“Up close, they both have god-tier visuals! They are the definition of ‘beautiful inside and out.’ Would you believe Ning Xuan actually asked her partner for permission before taking a photo? As someone who’s been single since birth, I’m dying of envy.”

The post screamed “true fan” and instantly attracted a massive wave of Ning Xuan’s followers. Xiao Xiang Mia’s follower count spiked by 100,000 in a single hour. The post featured the official photo alongside a candid shot she’d snapped of them sitting across from each other. The candid was perfectly timed; it captured not just their beauty, but the raw tenderness and love in their eyes as they looked at one another.

The comment section exploded:

“Ning-bao and Miss Yu are finally in the same frame! Ahhh! That look in their eyes is everything.”

“The tenderness is overflowing.”

“They’re a perfect match. This is what it looks like to marry for love! Mutual devotion is so beautiful!”

“Truly a legendary couple! It’s a waste of genes if they don’t have ten babies!”

“Quickly joining the ‘hurry up and have kids’ squad!”

“Did Ning-bao have a baby today? No. I’ll come back and ask tomorrow.”

The comments had officially spiraled out of control.

Unaware that thousands of fans were now chanting for her to start a family, Ning Xuan finished her coffee and headed to the hot pot restaurant. They arrived right on time at 6:50 PM.

Shang Li was already there. A split-pot (Yuan-Yang) was already bubbling on the table.

“Master Shang.” Ning Xuan greeted her with a smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Shang Li was sipping a beer. She glanced up at them as they approached but continued drinking. “I haven’t been waiting long.”

Ning Xuan and Yu Yazhi sat across from her. As the staff brought out the ingredients, Yu Yazhi began expertly blanching Ning Xuan’s favorite foods as soon as the broth boiled.

Ning Xuan watched Shang Li closely. “Master Shang, it’s been a while. Since you’re treating us to dinner so suddenly, did something happen?”

She suspected it was a matter of the heart and wanted the details so she could offer comfort or help.

However, Shang Li hadn’t come for help. She had invited Ning Xuan simply because she wanted the company. She forced a smile. “Nothing much. I’ve been designing the martial arts choreography for your crew lately. The pressure is just a bit high.”

It was an obvious excuse, but it revealed one thing: she was back for work.

Ning Xuan was surprised. “You’re designing the stunts for The Nightingale and the Rose? I had no idea. You didn’t mention it.”

Shang Li smiled nonchalantly. “What’s there to say? I was going to turn it down, but your director wouldn’t take no for an answer. I had to come.”

Ning Xuan recalled the day they went on break, it turned out Director He had gone to recruit her. “Then, about this dinner.” Her expression turned curious. “Is it really just for a meal?”

Shang Li laughed. “If not for a meal, what else would it be for? With your wife sitting there watching me like a hawk, I wouldn’t dare try anything else anyway.”

It was a joke intended to lighten the mood, but the atmosphere remained heavy.

Yu Yazhi interjected, “How was Dafu Village? Now that you’re back, did you leave Yu Jiayan there alone?”

“How could I?” Shang Li took a large gulp of beer and wiped her mouth. “I had someone forcibly send him home.”

She thought back to Yu Jiayan’s screaming as he was dragged away: “You’re using outside help to bully me! You think you’re so great just because you have people? Shang Li, you have no sportsmanship! You wait, I’ll be back!”

Then, he had been tied up like a zongzi (rice dumpling) and carried off by her students.

Hahaha. Looking back, it was actually quite funny. Qu Ran was right, he really was a source of entertainment.

“And Qu Ran agreed to that?” Yu Yazhi was curious about Qu Ran’s stance. Though she didn’t know her well, she could feel Qu Ran’s rejection of Shang Li. Based on their previous chats, it seemed Qu Ran was more fond of Yu Jiayan.

Shang Li had thought so too. But to her surprise, when her students forcibly removed Yu Jiayan and he cried out to Qu Ran for help, she hadn’t lifted a finger to stop them.

“Why didn’t she object?”

Shang Li countered with a question of her own: “Does she have a reason to?”

She wasn’t just brushing off Yu Yazhi’s words; she was genuinely asking. Qu Ran’s heart was an enigma much like Zhong Qiu, she was a book that was notoriously difficult to read. Perhaps it was because Shang Li herself was too close to the situation to see clearly.

She was looking to Yu Yazhi now, hoping for the clarity of an outsider.

Yu Yazhi was indeed clear-headed. After listening to Shang Li, she analyzed: “It’s as you said—Qu Ran has no reason to object, so she doesn’t interfere. Governance through non-action, letting nature take its course, that seems to be her principle and her philosophy of life.”

Shang Li froze in place.

It was an epiphany. A dangerous thought even began to take root: If Qu Ran’s way was to let things happen naturally, then perhaps Shang Li should be a bit more assertive.

“Master Shang.”

Ning Xuan noticed her spacing out and called her name.

Shang Li snapped back to reality and looked at Ning Xuan. “What is it?”

Ning Xuan, who was busy eating a slice of blanched mutton, reminded her: “It’s ready to eat. Eat more vegetables before you have any more to drink.”

Shang Li nodded and began to eat in silence.

At the same time, Qu Ran was also eating.

Her meal was simple: plain noodles boiled in water. However, the girl sitting across from her kept piling side dishes into her bowl, her mouth moving a mile a minute.

“Oh, right, I’m Ding Jie. I introduced myself before, but I forgot to tell you the meaning behind my name. When I was born, my mom had a difficult labor—it was almost a ‘one corpse, two lives’ situation. Luckily, I was tough and made it through. My mom was so scared she said giving birth to me was like fighting a great war, and fortunately, she won a great victory. But ‘Ding Sheng’ sounded too plain, so she named me Ding Jie, hoping everything would go smoothly for me and I’d always emerge victorious.”

Qu Ran kept her head down, chewing her noodles in silence. She didn’t say a word, acting as if the other girl didn’t exist.

Ding Jie wasn’t deterred. She prattled on: “Your name is Qu Ran, right? It’s very pretty. Your mother must have had a beautiful intention when she named you. Qu Ran, Qu Ran—spotless and untainted. Looking at your life, you really live up to your name. It’s so lovely.”

She babbled on, unaware that certain words were cutting deep.

Qu Ran set down her chopsticks. She felt a sharp, dual pang in her chest. By the time she tried to focus on the sensation of the pain, her heart had already returned to a state of stillness.

She was normally insensitive to physical pain and dull to emotion. Only when facing Shang Li did she feel a sense of unease, an urge to flee whenever the woman got close.

But why did Ding Jie’s words make her heart ache?

“I remember there’s a song called Untainted (Bu Ran). It’s very good. Have you heard, yikes!”

Ding Jie didn’t finish her sentence. She pointed at Qu Ran and cried out in alarm, “You, why are you crying?”

Qu Ran was completely unaware that she was weeping; she looked utterly dazed. It wasn’t until Ding Jie pointed it out that she reacted, touching her face to find wet tear tracks.

She was crying? How? Why?

Not knowing the context, Ding Jie apologized like a child who had done something wrong. “I’m sorry! Was I too noisy? Please don’t cry, I wasn’t trying to bully you.”

In her eyes, Qu Ran was petite with a youthful face and innocent eyes. She looked like an underage girl, stirring a deep protective instinct in those around her.

Qu Ran still didn’t speak. She stopped eating, stood up, and walked out.

She washed her face with well water in the courtyard. Once the tear stains were gone, everything appeared normal again. Still worried, Ding Jie dropped her chopsticks and followed her out, only to see Qu Ran in her white dress, walking leisurely under the moonlight.

A light breeze blew, making the hem of her dress flutter. She looked as though she might transcend her mortal coil and ascend to the heavens. Ding Jie couldn’t help but take out her phone to snap a photo.

Qu Ran suddenly turned her head. Her long hair was tossed by the wind, a few strands clinging to her lips. Pale skin, red lips, and pure eyes—it was a chaotic sort of beauty, fragile and easily shattered.

“Miss Qu.”

Ding Jie captured a few shots and then hurried to catch up, asking cautiously, “Where, where are you going?”

Master Shang had told her to keep a very, very close eye on her.

Qu Ran didn’t answer. She quietly gazed at the small cottage. Under the moonlight, with its lights on, the house looked even more beautiful. It was a Peach Blossom Spring created by that person, yet gifted to her.

Why was it given to her?

Why was she named Qu Ran?

Zhong Qiu, that person.

Qu Ran was never usually curious. She had a premonition that the moment she became curious, everything that person had worked so hard to build would be destroyed.

“Miss Qu, what are you looking at?”

Ding Jie looked in the same direction. It seemed like Qu Ran was looking at the house, yet it didn’t feel like it. And the look in her eyes, it was so sorrowful. It felt as if she might burst into tears again at any second, making anyone who saw her feel a wave of sadness.

This time, Qu Ran replied. But what she said was: “No one is truly spotless. Absolute cleanliness is absolute filth.”

She was responding to Ding Jie’s earlier comment.

Ding Jie didn’t understand. “Huh? What do you mean? Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know.” Qu Ran’s lips curled into what looked like a smile. “I just suddenly felt like saying it.”

Or perhaps, it was Zhong Qiu speaking through her.