After Becoming a Scummy Alpha, I Was Spoiled by a Sweet Omega - Chapter 85

Shang Li sat in the woven bamboo rocking chair that Zhong Qiu used to frequent, staring at the text message from Yu Yazhi for a long time.

Investigate Qu Ran? What did Yu Yazhi find out?

As she was pondering, the roar of a helicopter echoed overhead. Yu Jiayan had returned with Qu Ran after their aerial tour of Dafu Village. Shang Li watched them descend, stood up, and walked forward to meet them.

The wind from the rotors whipped Qu Ran’s skirt around her, looking as if it might carry her away. Yu Jiayan was the first to hop down; he reached out his hand, offering it with gentlemanly grace to help her. Qu Ran hadn’t intended to accept his help, but when she looked up and saw Shang Li striding toward them, she gave him her hand on a sudden, inexplicable impulse.

Yu Jiayan took this as a sign of favor, perhaps even an endorsement. Overjoyed, he beamed with pride and became even more attentive. “Careful now, Ranran. Watch your step.”

Shang Li reached them and, without a word, shoved Yu Jiayan aside.

Yu Jiayan was instantly incensed. “You again? Can’t you see Ranran doesn’t want you here? Get lost! Stop being such an eyesore!”

Shang Li didn’t even spare him a glance. Her focus was entirely on Qu Ran. Her expression was solemn, her voice brooking no refusal. “We need to talk.”

Qu Ran looked at her quietly. Two seconds later, she nodded.

The two didn’t go inside. Instead, they began walking toward the mountains. Yu Jiayan tried to follow, but after a few steps, Qu Ran froze him in place with a single look: Don’t come.

He was surprisingly obedient. He nodded with a smile. “Alright, Ranran. I’ll wait for you to come back.”

Qu Ran gave no response. She turned and continued walking.

They reached a bamboo grove. In the twilight, the light was dim. The wind rustled through the bamboo leaves, sounding like a soft, rhythmic melody. Qu Ran narrowed her eyes, her slender, pale fingers grazing the leaves as she took in the beauty of nature.

Finally, Shang Li spoke, shattering the tranquility. “You say your name is Qu Ran. Do you know why you are called Qu Ran?”

“Why should I care to know?”

Qu Ran was curious about everything, yet curious about nothing at all. She was like a detached deity who had accidentally woken up in a human body and was simply observing the world. Just a spectator. People came and went around her with various motives, yet none could hold her interest.

Shang Li couldn’t stand this cold detachment. To her, Qu Ran was a void—an emotionless, artificial person. She found herself yearning for Zhong Qiu’s sharp edges, even if that sharpness was heartless.

“You’re hiding, too,” Shang Li said. “You’re afraid to know why Zhong Qiu created you.”

Qu Ran smiled softly at that. “And if I am?”

She was like water—soft, absorbing everything, drowning everything.

Shang Li suddenly closed the distance, her voice low and heavy. “Give me back my Zhong Qiu.” She grabbed Qu Ran by the shoulders and began calling out the name: “Zhong Qiu! Zhong Qiu!”

Qu Ran’s heart began to ache. She welcomed the pain, as well as the familiar sense of rejection she felt toward Shang Li. Zhong Qiu could still feel. Zhong Qiu loved Shang Li; she responded to every call. Qu Ran’s chest throbbed, and her eyes grew hot—the precursor to tears. She leaned into the experience, finding she actually liked it. To force the tears out, she took a step forward and proactively hugged Shang Li.

Shang Li’s voice cut off abruptly. “Zhong—”

Her mind went blank. She couldn’t hear anything. But her other senses were vivid: the breath against her neck, the strength of the arms around her waist, and the warmth where their bodies met.

Qu Ran hugged me.

The realization hit her like a physical blow. Shang Li suddenly pushed her away as if she had been violated, her eyes filled with confusion. “What are you doing?”

It was Zhong Qiu she loved. The more she loved her, the more she insisted on drawing a hard line between her and Qu Ran. Perhaps it was because Qu Ran’s personality was too distinct, too autonomous, making it impossible for Shang Li to feel close to her.

The corners of Qu Ran’s eyes curved, a smile playing on her lips. “Zhong Qiu wanted me to hug you.”

Shang Li: “…”

Stunned by the answer, she became frantic. “What else did she say? You can communicate with each other? Make her come out, now!”

Qu Ran spoke with a touch of regret. “I can’t control that. Just as I couldn’t control her creating me, I can’t control when she emerges.”

Deeply disappointed, Shang Li could only call out the name again and again. “Zhong Qiu, please come out. Whatever the problem is, we can solve it together. I won’t let you get hurt. Trust me, please?”

Qu Ran watched as Shang Li cried out another woman’s name to her face. Even as her heart endured a pain like a twisting knife, her expression remained cold, aloof, and indifferent.

THUD!

A sudden force struck. Out of nowhere, Yu Jiayan appeared and slammed a fist into Shang Li’s face. “Damn it! What the hell are you doing?”

Shang Li had been so focused on Zhong Qiu that she hadn’t sensed the danger. The punch landed squarely on her cheek, the pain exploding through her jaw. It was a heavy hit; Yu Jiayan had put his full strength into it, fueled by old grudges and new fury. To him, Shang Li was harassing Qu Ran; shouting the name “Zhong Qiu” was a direct attack on Qu Ran’s identity.

“Ranran, are you okay?” He pulled Qu Ran behind him, stepping into a protective stance.

Qu Ran hadn’t expected him to show up. He had ruined her plan, she had indeed been trying to use Shang Li to provoke Zhong Qiu into emerging. The longer she stayed in this world, the deeper the bonds became, and that was exactly what she feared.

“You.” Qu Ran started, but not knowing what to say, she just waved him away, signaling for him to keep his distance.

Yu Jiayan, fearing Qu Ran was being traumatized, said anxiously, “Don’t listen to her nonsense. She’s crazy. Just a madwoman. You are Qu Ran, and only Qu Ran, do you hear me?”

He didn’t want Qu Ran to know she was a sub-personality. He didn’t want Zhong Qiu to come out. In his mind, if Zhong Qiu returned, Qu Ran would disappear. How was that any different from murder?

To him, Shang Li had just been trying to “murder” Qu Ran.

At that thought, his rage flared again. He balled his fists and charged forward once more, roaring, “Shang Li, I’m warning you! If you ever get close to Qu Ran or say that garbage again, I’ll kill you! I swear it!”

In this moment, he was a warrior protecting the girl he loved, his eyes flashing with a desperate, world-ending madness.

Unfortunately, the heroic act lasted less than three seconds. Shang Li delivered a swift kick to his shin, sending him face-first into the dirt.

“Idiot,” she muttered.

“Son of a bitch!” he spat back.

Yu Jiayan spat out a mouthful of dirt and charged forward again with clenched fists. Even knowing he was no match for her, he scrambled back up time and time again.

His face was bruised.

His lip was bleeding.

His arm was fractured.

He collapsed at Qu Ran’s feet, spitting out a glob of blood while gasping her name: “Qu Ran. Ranran. I won’t let her hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

Qu Ran: “…”

She wasn’t afraid. What on earth was this idiot thinking?

She looked down at the man lying like a dead dog at her feet. For a brief moment, her steady heart skipped a beat for him, this couldn’t go on. Yu Jiayan might actually, truly love her. This was unacceptable. He could be a fool, he could be a source of amusement, but he could not be someone who loved her.

Love meant catching feelings.

And feelings meant getting hurt.

Because she didn’t truly exist.

“Ranran.”

His face was a mess of bruises as he reached out a pathetic hand, trying to take hers. Qu Ran saw it and pulled away. A second later, she walked toward Shang Li and offered her hand to her instead.

This scene was a shock to everyone present. Yu Jiayan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Qu Ran!”

How could she walk toward the person who was trying to harm her?

Even Shang Li stared in shock at the owner of that slender, pale hand. Qu Ran had never taken the initiative to be close to her—aside from earlier, when she claimed Zhong Qiu wanted to hug her.

Was it now?

She called out tentatively: “Zhong Qiu?”

Qu Ran smiled. “Don’t be anxious. She’ll be back.”

Hearing this, Shang Li grabbed her hand and stood up. She had just finished a fight with Yu Jiayan; though she had been the dominant side, she hadn’t escaped unscathed. Yu Jiayan had scratched her face and yanked out quite a bit of her hair.

That idiot fought with less dignity than a common brawler!

The “undignified” Yu Jiayan, provoked beyond reason, screamed out: “Qu Ran! Qu Ran!”

Qu Ran didn’t give him a single look as she started walking back. Yu Jiayan scrambled up and limped after her like a loyal, beaten dog. “Ranran, don’t be mad. I won’t fight her anymore. Qu Ran, talk to me. Qu Ran.”

Qu Ran paused and finally spoke. “Do you know about Zhong Qiu? I am her sub-personality.”

She reached out and pressed firmly against the bruise on the corner of his mouth, causing fresh blood to seep out. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

Yu Jiayan hissed through the pain but remained stubborn, refusing to pull away. Such a foolish, simple-minded boy.

Qu Ran withdrew her hand and sighed. “Yu Jiayan, don’t fall in love with a sub-personality. It will only bring you pain, and it will never result in anything.”

She rejected him clearly and cruelly.

Yu Jiayan’s voice trembled with agony as he pointed at Shang Li. “Is it because of her?”

Qu Ran nodded. “Mhm. Because of her.”

Upon hearing this, Yu Jiayan immediately balled his fists and lunged at Shang Li again. Naturally, he was leveled by a single punch from Shang Li.

“Listen up! She’s mine!”

Shang Li declared her sovereignty, gripping Qu Ran’s hand tightly. Qu Ran didn’t pull away. The two of them walked off hand-in-hand.

Yu Jiayan watched their receding figures, his heart aching beyond measure. He wanted to roar, but no sound would come out. Tears surged in his eyes, blurring their silhouettes.

Qu Ran.

Ranran.

The sky grew dark. A few crows cawed as they flew past. Yu Jiayan lay on the ground, watching the darkness press down from all sides. His chest felt heavy and dull, the oppression making it hard to breathe.

“This is where it should start raining.”

A familiar female voice sounded in his ear. It was Ding Jie. She had watched the entire spectacle and couldn’t help but offer her commentary: “If it rained right now, you’d be the male lead. Too bad it’s dry. How pathetic, you’re just a side character who gets killed off early.”

Yu Jiayan: “…”

What male lead? What side character? Dammit!

His perfectly good tragic mood had been completely dismantled by her few sentences.

“What are you doing here?” He was filled with shame and embarrassment, his body throbbing with a violent irritability.

Ding Jie chewed on a bamboo leaf and laughed. “Watching the show. Your performance just now was hilarious. TV dramas aren’t even this exciting. Seriously.”

Yu Jiayan erupted in a fury. “Are you even human?”

He was in such a wretched state; how could she laugh? As expected of someone trained by Shang Li, they were all absolutely unhinged!

“Alright, get up.” Ding Jie reached out to haul him up.

Yu Jiayan hissed in pain. “Wait, my arm! My arm.”

His arm was dislocated. Ding Jie saw it, gave it a quick check, and with a sharp thrust, popped it back into place.

“AH!”

Yu Jiayan let out a blood-curdling scream. A moment later, his arm was back to normal. He looked surprised. “Oh! It’s fixed!”

Ding Jie pulled him up and tossed a few tissues at him, looking at him with disdain. “Hurry up and go treat those wounds. If you end up disfigured, you’re finished.”

In her eyes, Yu Jiayan was the textbook definition of “gold on the outside, rot on the inside.” That face was the only thing he had going for him. If he lost it, he’d have zero chance of ever finding a wife.

In the interest of ensuring he eventually found a wife so he’d stop pestering her master’s woman, she decided to be “charitable” and solve this nuisance.