After Becoming a Scummy Alpha, I Was Spoiled by a Sweet Omega - Chapter 94

Sun Meiqing had not expected the truth to be exposed so suddenly. The situation gave her no time to prepare a defense.

She shook her head instinctively, her face a mask of panic and confusion. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Could the hospital have made a mistake?”

The attending surgeon, a veteran of countless family dramas, didn’t hesitate when he heard this. “How could we get something as simple as a blood type wrong? Is anyone here a rare blood type match? The patient is in critical condition.”

Yu Yazhi was already dialing Shang Li. She had a vague memory that Shang Li was Rh-negative.

It seemed Yu Jiayan had a stroke of luck in his misfortune; the hospital he had been rushed to was the very same one where Zhong Qiu was staying. Consequently, Shang Li arrived quickly after receiving the news and immediately agreed to donate blood.

With the blood supply secured, the surgery proceeded.

Yu Zhengcheng didn’t wait any longer. He dragged Sun Meiqing into the stairwell and demanded, “Talk! What is going on? Sun Meiqing, what exactly have you done behind my back?”

After the initial shock, Sun Meiqing had regained her composure and formulated a strategy: total denial.

Her heart was cold, but her face remained bewildered and hesitant. “I really don’t know, Cheng-ge. Please, calm down. Could the hospital have switched the babies at birth?”

She began to shift the blame, her voice growing firmer by the second. “Yes, they must have switched them. Cheng-ge, I would never do anything to betray you. You have to believe me, you must.”

But Yu Zhengcheng no longer believed a word she said.

He breathed heavily, his fists clenching until his knuckles cracked. “I am giving you one last chance,” he growled. “Tell me the truth.”

Sun Meiqing continued to shake her head, tears streaming down her face. “I truly don’t know.”

She suddenly stepped forward and gripped Yu Zhengcheng’s arm, playing the role of a grieving, devoted mother. “The hospital must have made a mistake. My child, my poor child. Cheng-ge, you have to contact the hospital where I gave birth. We have to find our real child!”

Yu Zhengcheng was almost swayed by her performance.

“Sun Meiqing, if you are lying to me again, you will regret it. You’ve let me raise a bastard!”

In his fury, he shoved her hand away. Sun Meiqing stumbled back several steps, hitting the stair railing. She could have caught herself, but she chose to let herself fall.

“Ah!”

A sharp cry of pain rang out. Seeing her tumble down the stairs, Yu Zhengcheng feared he had pushed her too hard. Startled, he rushed down to help her, a trace of reflexive pity flickering in his eyes. “Meiqing! Meiqing, are you alright?”

Sun Meiqing was bruised and her forehead was bleeding. She looked pathetic as she whimpered, “Cheng-ge, I’m fine, I just twisted my ankle, please, have someone investigate. I want my child.”

Seeing her in such a state, Yu Zhengcheng began to be convinced. Could the hospital really have switched them? He stopped his interrogation and lifted her up to find a doctor for her forehead.

As he looked up, however, he locked eyes with his daughter.

The silence was deafeningly awkward.

Yu Yazhi had come over out of concern that her father might do something irreversible in his rage. Of course, she was also curious about the truth. Now that they had crossed paths, she didn’t show her discomfort; she simply stepped back to give them space.

Yu Zhengcheng carried Sun Meiqing away to have her injuries treated. Yu Yazhi remained outside the operating room. Now that they suspected the boy wasn’t their son, both parents seemed to have momentarily forgotten that Yu Jiayan was still fighting for his life.

Minutes ticked by.

Shang Li had donated 600ml of blood—an amount that significantly exceeded the standard safety limit. When she finally walked out, she was deathly pale and visibly weakened. For a powerful Alpha like her, the toll was immense.

Yu Yazhi hurried forward to support her. “Why do you look so terrible? How much blood did you give? How is Yu Jiayan?”

Shang Li sat on the nearby bench, her head spinning. She managed a weak shake of her head, unable to find the strength to speak.

Seeing her condition, Yu Yazhi quickly fetched a nurse. Hot water and warm milk were brought out; Yu Yazhi took them, thanked the nurse, and handed them to Shang Li.

Shang Li drank it all but still had no energy. She leaned against the wall with her eyes closed, waiting for her strength to return.

The marathon surgery continued. Yu Yazhi had a sinking feeling, would Yu Jiayan even make it through?

“Sigh.”

Yu Zhengcheng returned. His head was bowed, his face grey and haggard; he looked like he had aged a decade in a single night. The revelation that his most cherished child might not be his own was a devastating blow.

Yu Yazhi looked at him, her mouth opening to speak, but she ultimately said nothing. Words of comfort felt meaningless.

【Infatuated. Obsessed with you, infatuated.】

Ning Xuan’s ringtone suddenly broke the silence of the corridor. In such a heavy atmosphere, the upbeat tune felt jarringly out of place.

Yu Yazhi answered quickly and stepped away to speak. “Yes, he’s still in surgery. It’s been four hours. He, it doesn’t look optimistic.”

Ning Xuan thought back to the original plot of the story: Yu Jiayan was supposed to fail in his power struggle and be sent abroad, where he lived a lavish life on his father’s money. There was no mention of him dying young.

But since she—a “Scum Alpha”—was now happily with the heroine, the original plot was already in shambles. Could it even be trusted anymore?

She could only offer comfort: “Evil survives a thousand years. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”

Yu Yazhi didn’t mention the secret of Yu Jiayan’s identity. She listened quietly to Ning Xuan’s voice, and noticing it was past three in the morning, she realized how late it was. “You haven’t slept? Go to bed. Don’t you have to film tomorrow morning?”

“I’m not filming,” Ning Xuan replied. “I took a leave of absence. I’m driving there now; I should be there in about an hour. I didn’t think it was this serious at first, otherwise I would have left sooner to be by your side.”

Though she didn’t like Yu Jiayan, a life was a life. When someone was at death’s door, grudges and rights and wrongs were set aside.

Yu Yazhi was moved, her heart aching slightly. “It’s good that you’re coming. My feelings right now are complicated.”

She truly hadn’t expected that Yu Jiayan wasn’t her biological brother. Though she hadn’t accepted him at first, knowing they shared no blood didn’t leave her indifferent. Instead, she felt a profound sense of pity for him.

If Yu Jiayan woke up and learned the truth, he would be devastated. Or perhaps not, the boy had always been heartless in his own way.

“I know. I understand. Yazhi, I’ll let you go, my phone is dying.”

“Alright. Be safe on the road. Are the bodyguards with you?”

“They are. Don’t worry. I’m taking turns driving with them.”

“Good.”

The two ended their call.

Yu Yazhi returned to the front of the operating theater. Above the doors, the three bright red words—IN PROGRESS—remained illuminated.

After resting for an hour, Shang Li’s dizziness had finally subsided, and she had regained some of her strength. “Sit down,” she said softly. “Stop pacing back and forth; you’re making my head spin.”

Yu Yazhi quickly sat beside her, concern etched on her face. “How are you feeling? Is Zhong Qiu alright alone in her room? Should I go check on her for you?”

Shang Li shook her head. “No need. I have a nurse watching over her.”

“I’m sorry for all the trouble this caused you. And thank you for saving him.”

“It’s nothing. Don’t thank me. I would have donated blood for anyone in that position.”

“I know. Good things happen to good people.”

“If that’s true,” Shang Li murmured, “then I hope those ‘good things’ happen to Zhong Qiu instead.”

She was willing to accumulate a lifetime of merit and blessings for her, asking for nothing in return but for Zhong Qiu to spend the rest of her days in peace.

Moved by her words, Yu Yazhi patted her shoulder. “You’ll get your wish.”

In that quiet moment, they both began to offer silent prayers to the heavens.

4:00 AM

Ning Xuan arrived at the hospital.

By some stroke of timing, the moment she reached the ward, the doors to the operating room swung open.

The surgeon stepped out and removed his mask, his expression grim. “We have done everything we can. His brain trauma is severe. If he does not wake up within the next three days, he will lapse into an irreversible coma.”

In other words, he would be in a vegetative state.