After Becoming the Live-in Scummy Alpha, I Pamper Her with Real Strength - Chapter 42.2 (END)

Yaya blinked, her round eyes darting about as she struggled to respond. After a moment, she finally chirped, “Catch egg. Egg.”

Mo Zile glanced at the eggs barely visible beneath the chicken coop, then looked at He Song—still locked in an epic (and futile) battle with a chicken—and let out a sigh before bravely patting her chest. “Yaya, stand right here. Big sister will get the eggs for you.”

With a bit of off-camera guidance from the crew, Mo Zile made her way to one of the easier-to-reach chicken cages. She cautiously reached her hand inside.

“Be careful with your movements,” a crew member warned. “If the hen reacts, pull your hand back immediately.”

Compared to He Song’s drawn-out chicken showdown, Mo Zile’s mission went surprisingly smoothly. She retrieved two eggs with ease. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached back in and managed to grab three more.

She stared at the five round eggs nestled in the sand and mulled over whether to get even more.

Her silly mom probably wasn’t catching a chicken anytime soon. If there was no chicken stew tonight, wouldn’t more scrambled eggs at least fill their stomachs?

In the end, Mo Zile cleaned out the whole nest, even borrowing a basket from the hunter uncle to carry them all. She proudly handed it over to little Yaya.

He Song came out of the chicken coop, utterly defeated. She patted Tuan Tuan’s head and sighed, “Mommy failed. Looks like we’re not having chicken stew tonight.”

Mo Zile crossed her arms like a tiny adult and said coolly, “Then we just won’t. I already got a bunch of eggs for Yaya. We can make scrambled eggs instead.”

He Song couldn’t help laughing and tugged at her daughter’s overly serious face. “Stop mimicking your Mamie!”

[Later in a confessional interview, He Song sits in a chair and explains:]

“Tuan Tuan’s a bit mature for her age. She can be a little bossy—strong-willed and independent, not delicate at all. So she ends up imitating adults, trying to act calm and composed. She does this at home too.

Sometimes she’ll even ‘comfort’ or ‘educate’ me. Yes, educate—hahaha.”

“Because of my work, sometimes I’m away on shoots for a month or two. Tuan Tuan will scold me when I come home, saying, ‘Mamie misses you! I miss you! You’re always running off! You need a spanking!’ Stuff

like that. Honestly, she’s… very thoughtful.”

________________________________________

Three hours passed. Of the four families, only He Song and Tuan Tuan had failed to complete their task.

“The families that didn’t finish will face a punishment,” the hunter said meaningfully, eyes landing on Tuan Tuan. “Tuan Tuan, please step forward for our lightning Q&A challenge!”

Mo Zile scratched her head and looked at He Song in confusion. “Mom, what’s lightning Q&A?”

He Song wiggled her daughter’s hand. “It means Uncle will ask you questions, and you have to answer them quickly.”

Mo Zile nodded, half-understanding, and walked up to the hunter. “Okay, Uncle, ask away.”

The hunter gave a mysterious smile and lifted the cue cards. “Do you like your mommy?”

Mo Zile: “Yes.”

“Do you like Mommy more, or Mamie more?”

Mo Zile froze and glanced back at He Song.

The hunter quickly pressed, “No hesitating! So—Mommy or Mamie?”

Without blinking, Mo Zile answered, “Mamie.”

He Song: …So much for putting you on TV.

“What don’t you like about Mommy? Quick answers only, no stalling.”

Mo Zile: “She can’t catch chickens. She steals my snacks. She steals Mamie. Every time the teacher calls for a parent, I tell Mommy not to tell Mamie—she promises not to, but always does. She doesn’t keep her word…”

Once she got going, Mo Zile rattled off all of He Song’s “bad habits” like she was reading a list.

He Song sat nearby, utterly defeated, trying to interrupt but failing to squeeze in even one word. She spread her hands helplessly.

He Song: At least leave me a shred of dignity… you’ve dragged all my skeletons out of the closet.

“She’s always away for work. Makes Mamie and me worry. She got hurt on set, and Mamie had to fly really far to see her and cried secretly multiple times. She always makes Mamie sad. That’s why I don’t like Mommy.”

As she went on, He Song’s smile faded. She knew exactly what her daughter was referring to.

It had happened last year, during the filming of Pilgrimage in Tibet. There was a scene where she had to crawl and climb across a snowy cliff. The environment was harsh, and it took a week just to shoot that one scene.

One day, a climbing rope tied to her snapped. She lost her balance, got blown sideways by the wind, and slammed into the rock face. Her waist and lower abdomen were badly bruised. She forced herself down the mountain, but by the time she realized how serious it was, the injury had already swollen and hardened from the cold.

It was nightfall when they descended, and the nearest hospital was far from camp. They couldn’t leave until early the next morning.

Because of the delay in treatment, He Song had to stay in the hospital for an entire week before she could even walk.

Mo Qingran had rushed to Tibet with Mo Zile the moment she got the news.

After multiple transfers and hours on the road, they finally reached the hospital. Exhausted and anxious, Mo Qingran sat beside the bed.

“How many times have I told you not to push yourself like this? You never listen. Thank goodness it wasn’t more serious. Once you’re better, we’re going back to S City. The doctor said you need to rest for a while.”
He Song waved it off. “It’s not a big deal. I braced myself before the impact. Just give me another week, I’ll be fine. I can’t delay the shoot.”

Mo Qingran’s face turned cold in an instant. Lips tight with suppressed fury, she snapped, “You still want to film? With injuries like this? What if the lead actor gets hurt—so what if the shoot’s delayed? I’m calling Director Qi.”

It was the first time Mo Qingran had ever intervened in He Song’s work.

He Song froze, still unaware of the gravity of the situation. “Seriously, it’s fine. Nothing I shoot now will strain the injury. You don’t believe me? Lili, show her the script.”

She gave a look to Lili, who stood nearby like a statue, completely silent.

Lili: Please don’t drag me into your wife-wife drama. I’m invisible. I do not exist.

Mo Qingran shot to her feet, knocking over a plastic cup on the table with a loud clatter. He Song jumped at the noise and saw the frost in Mo Qingran’s eyes.

“He Song. Great. Truly admirable. Your dedication deserves applause—work over life, huh? If you refuse to come back with me to S City and insist on filming while injured, then there’s nothing more to say.”

She turned to leave, voice cold. “Tuan Tuan and I are going back. You figure the rest out.”

If He Song couldn’t tell that Mo Qingran was furious by now, she wasn’t just slow—she’d be brainless.

She quickly called after her, “I’ll go back! I swear! Just let me finish these last few scenes—I promise I’ll go.”

Lili covered her face instinctively. Oh no…

“Filming?! You’re still thinking about filming?!” Mo Qingran roared, her voice thick with unspoken emotion. She fought the urge to cry, then stormed out.

The hospital room fell silent again, but He Song could still feel that shout echoing in the air.

From the nearby bed, Mo Zile jumped down, marched over, and smacked He Song’s uninjured leg. Hard. Multiple times.

He Song gasped in pain. “Ow, ow! Hey—!”

Mo Zile glared at her, eyes watery. “So now you know pain? You do know how to feel pain?! You big meanie! I don’t want to talk to you ever again!”

She stomped out behind Mo Qingran, her little back full of righteous indignation and sadness.

Lili: Being the kid stuck in the middle of two arguing parents… really is too hard.

After the two family members had left, Lili looked at He Song with exasperation, like iron that just wouldn’t turn to steel.

“He-jie, President Mo was only that angry because she was worried about your health. And you kept talking about the shoot—how could she not be upset?”

He Song finally came around, hanging her head in defeat.

“But I can’t just stop filming. There’s only a week or two left until we wrap. If I go back to S City now…”

Lili sighed. “With injuries like yours, it’s not unreasonable to take time off to recover. Honestly, it was the crew’s lack of proper safety measures that led to this. They should be held responsible.”

He Song scratched her head.

“I know. It’s just… it’s not easy coming all the way to Tibet. We’re so close to finishing. If we stop now, not only will there be financial losses, but the whole crew and cast will be affected. Might as well push through and finish it.”

Lili knew she wasn’t wrong. As He Song said, coming to Tibet wasn’t easy. The filming location was five to six hours from town. Finishing now would save everyone a lot of trouble.

Still, she found herself wishing He Song would be selfish just this once—less professional, more reckless.

After they wrapped and returned to S City, He Song and Mo Qingran had a cold war for several days before finally reconciling through He Song’s repeated apologies and sweet-talking. She ended up taking an extended leave, staying home for a few months and focusing entirely on “being a wife and mom.”
________________________________________

[In a later interview.]

He Song stared at the floor, lost in thought, then slowly looked up with a heavy expression.

“I didn’t realize she remembered it so clearly. I mean, it was last year. Kids usually forget things quickly… but she really took it to heart. That means it must have left a deep mark on her. And as her mother… I’ve done worse than a child would have in so many ways.”

“Yes, it was during Pilgrimage, the film that later won the Aureluska Award. I didn’t even know Mo Qingran cried. It was only after she told me that I found out… I thought she was just angry at the time.”

He Song’s eyes shimmered with tears as she covered her face and gave a slightly embarrassed laugh, trying to mask her pain.

“I overlooked the vulnerable and sensitive side of her. If the roles were reversed—if she got hurt without me knowing—I’d definitely cry too. I really feel like I let her down. At home, the truth is… she’s more like the responsible older sister.”

“She’s mature, steady, caring. Cold on the surface, sure—but always silently looking out for me, supporting me. She’s truly amazing. And yet I’ve gotten so used to her being there for me, I’ve forgotten to notice how she feels.”

As she continued, her voice trembled, and the emotion was impossible to hide. Tears streamed down her face, which she wiped away roughly.

“Tuan Tuan didn’t tell me anything—it’s probably because her Mamie told her not to. They’re really alike that way. At home, I’m the one who gets taken care of and spoiled, like a child.”

“So I’m beyond grateful to have met someone like President Mo, who brings me lifelong happiness. And I’m grateful to her for giving me Tuan Tuan. I never imagined what a complete and loving family could look like until now.”

“I’m incredibly lucky to have this life.”

By the end of the interview, He Song was in tears, unable to continue.
________________________________________

Children often have sharper emotional perception than adults. Fights between parents, cold silences, emotional neglect—all of it directly impacts their sense of safety. That sense of insecurity, if left unresolved, can follow them well into adulthood.

After the Q&A punishment was over, Mo Zile—having finally gotten everything off her chest—strode back to He Song’s side with her head held high.

He Song was overwhelmed with emotion. She squatted down, hugged Tuan Tuan tightly, and kissed her forehead.

“It’s Mommy’s fault. I let you and Mamie down. Can you forgive me?”

Mo Zile tilted her head, trying to act cool, though her ears had turned bright red.

“Fine, I’ll reluctantly forgive you. But only if you take me and Mamie on lots of fun trips later—that’ll make up for it. And you have to be extra good to Mamie. No more fighting.”

“I promise. Tuan Tuan has full permission to keep Mommy in check.”

That finally brought a smile to Mo Zile’s face. She gave He Song a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Now that’s more like it.”

________________________________________

In the following days of outdoor life, He Song discovered that Mo Zile was adjusting surprisingly well.

She woke up early every day, full of energy, and went foraging for wild berries with Auntie Lin Miao from the neighboring cabin. She even enthusiastically helped the moms prepare lunch for all the kids.

When it came time for afternoon tasks, she always led the charge with He Song in tow—chattering nonstop, asking questions, full of excitement. She was like a monkey who’d lived as a human too long, finally returning to the forest and rediscovering her true nature.

Her energy was infectious. Everyone couldn’t help smiling at her antics. With a happy little spark like her around, the long walks and stifling heat didn’t feel quite so bad.

In the evenings, she’d call Mo Qingran like clockwork—half complaining about Mommy’s nonsense, half sweet-talking Mamie and saying how much she missed her.

He Song, sitting beside her, would grow increasingly jealous as the mother-daughter duo poured their hearts out over the phone.

“Didn’t the production team say we only get one hour for phone calls? We agreed—half for you, half for me. There’s only twenty minutes left.”

Mo Zile pouted and reluctantly handed the phone over.

“You’re not a little kid. Why do you miss Mamie so much?”

He Song gave her a gentle flick on the forehead.

“She’s your Mamie, yes—but she’s my wife. She was mine before she was yours. Now scoot. Stop interrupting adult time.”

Mo Zile stuck out her tongue and darted off to the next room.

“Since I talked to Mamie for half an hour, now I get half an hour to talk to my friend.”

…Technically, this might’ve been bending the rules.

But with her adorable puppy-dog eyes and sugary voice, the staff couldn’t resist and started pulling out their phones to offer her one.

After three rings, the call connected. A soft, milky voice answered,

“Hello? Is this Mo Zile?”

Her eyes lit up.

“Yep! It’s me! Xiao Yu, you’ll never guess where I am right now. You’re gonna lose our bet—I’m about to be on TV!”

Xiao Yu yawned and rubbed her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll lose. I’ll buy you strawberry milk for the whole semester. But other than this, you don’t beat me at anything.”

Mo Zile: “That’s not true! This is just step one. Once summer ends and we start school, you’ll see how amazing I am!”

Xiao Yu didn’t take the bait. Her voice was completely flat.

“Hahaha. You’re so amazing.”

The sarcasm meter maxed out. Furious, Mo Zile hung up the call on the spot.

________________________________________

As the final episodes aired, the forest cabin adventure came to an end.

Mo Zile was heartbroken about leaving the cabin and the new friends she’d made. He Song held her close to comfort her.

“The aunties all said you’re welcome to visit them anytime. The other kids don’t want to leave either. We’ll meet again someday, okay?”

Mo Zile nodded, but soon buried herself in He Song’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. No amount of coaxing worked.

Seeing this, the director gestured to He Song, signaling her to walk toward the path outside.

Not sure what was happening, He Song carried Tuan Tuan out the door.

Beneath the dappled shadows of the trees, a woman stood at the trailhead in a simple white sundress and a wide-brimmed sunhat.

Her features were cold and elegant, but the gentle smile she wore at that moment lit up her entire face.

He Song’s eyes welled with tears. Her chest ached with longing. It had been too long.

She patted her daughter’s head.

“Look up, baby. Guess who’s here?”

Mo Zile blinked in confusion—then spotted Mamie in the distance.

A second later, her wailing cry split the air.

“Mamie! MAMIEEEEEE! Waaaaah! I want my Mamie!!”

A perfect, dramatic end to their time in the woods—just as thunderous as their entrance.

As Mo Zile’s howling cries echoed through the trees, the three of them embraced tightly, framed by the golden light of sunset.

________________________________________

Author’s Note:

This marks the official end of the story.