After Being Bound to the Scummy Alpha System, I Became Famous Thanks to My Face Blindness - Chapter 80 EXTRA STORY 11

“What’s wrong?” Cheng Qingyan asked.

“When you said you wanted me to visit your house, you mean that house? The one where your mom lives?” Jiang Manli stammered.

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t sound appropriate, wouldn’t it be a bit presumptuous?” Jiang Manli forced a nervous laugh, hoping to bargain her way out.

“There’s nothing presumptuous about it,” Cheng Qingyan replied calmly. “I’ve already told my mom about you. She’s looking forward to meeting you.”

Jiang Manli’s heart instantly sank. “And how exactly did you introduce me?”

“I told her you’re a friend I met at training camp—and that I intend to pursue you.”

Jiang Manli’s mind went blank, as if she had fallen straight into an ice cellar. “And what did she say?” she asked weakly.

Cheng Qingyan answered, “She said as long as I like you, that’s all that matters. After all, the daughter of Aunt Qi Xin shouldn’t be too bad.”

Jiang Manli: “…”

Mom, I’ve failed you. I’ve really embarrassed the family this time.

By the time Jiang Manli stumbled home, she felt completely out of sorts.

Her mother—none other than the aforementioned “Aunt Qi Xin”—was playing mahjong with a few other ladies, their laughter and chatter echoing like festive drums and gongs.

Jiang Manli: “…”

She suddenly realized that her current personality might have a lot to do with her upbringing.

She quietly pulled her mother aside. “Mom, were you always this into mahjong when you were younger?”

Her mother frowned. “Who had time to play mahjong when they were young? Of course I was focused on my career! Why? What are you plotting this time?”

“Mom, what were you like when you were young? Did you smoke or drink? Get tattoos, perm your hair, wear revealing clothes, live extravagantly?”

Mrs. Jiang smacked her on the head. “What nonsense are you talking about? What kind of daughter asks her mother things like that? How did I raise such a scatterbrained girl?”

After half a dozen questions—and one solid smack—Jiang Manli had learned nothing.

The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she became. Her mother probably hadn’t been half as wild as she was. Out of sheer fear of facing a financial titan, she spent the night dyeing her hair into a discreet chestnut shade and buying a modest beige dress that practically screamed ladylike.

Even her makeup was a toned-down version of her usual style. Normally, she’d layer pink and lavender highlighters, stick on glitter, and even swipe on colorful mascara. But not today. Today was all about earth tones and soft rose hues.

Standing before the mirror, not even she could recognize herself—the once fearsome queen of the nightlife had vanished.

Even Cheng Qingyan barely recognized her.

After a long look, Cheng said simply, “Get in the car.”

Jiang Manli had never felt this awkward in her life; she might as well have been walking around naked. “Do I look weird?” she muttered.

Cheng Qingyan replied, “You clearly put effort into our date. That makes me happy.”

Jiang Manli: “…”

“Then I’m glad you’re happy, haha.”

The Cheng family’s home really did live up to its reputation for seclusion—a sprawling estate on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by winding mountain roads that took over an hour to drive through. Getting in or out was a journey in itself.

The manor was classically European, filled with ornate sculptures and religious motifs, at once grand and mysterious.

“I forgot to mention,” Cheng Qingyan said, “my mom is quite religious. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Jiang Manli said quickly, thinking to herself: After raising a daughter that mysterious, no wonder she prays every day.

“Come on, I’ll take you inside,” Cheng said naturally, reaching out to take her hand. “Watch your step, the stones are uneven.”

The warning only made her more nervous—Jiang Manli immediately tripped and fell flat on her face.

“Ow.” She winced, looking down to see a hole torn in her brand-new floral dress and a scrape on her knee.

“Does it hurt?” Cheng frowned, concerned. “Let me carry you.”

Startled, Jiang Manli jumped up. “No, no, I’m fine! See? I can still walk, run, jump—nothing wrong at all!”

Cheng Qingyan looked at her wobbling around with forced cheer, then said firmly, “Come here. I’ll carry you.”

Jiang Manli: “…”

There was no winning on someone else’s turf.

Resigned, she shuffled over and leaned onto Cheng Qingyan’s back. “I’m heavy, you might not—”

Before she could finish, Cheng had already lifted her with ease, carrying her steadily forward.

Jiang Manli had never blushed so hard in her life. She had always prided herself on having skin thick enough to rival a fortress wall—nothing could embarrass her. Yet in front of Cheng Qingyan, all her defenses crumbled.

Cheng carried her all the way to her bedroom before setting her down. Thankfully, the Cheng household was quiet, without the swarm of staff her own home had. Otherwise, her reputation would’ve been ruined on the spot.

Cheng’s room was exactly what one would expect—spotless, orderly, and minimalistic. She deftly pulled out a first-aid kit, knelt before Jiang Manli, and began disinfecting the scrape with iodine.

As Jiang watched her in silence, she blurted out, “I’ve finished my secondary differentiation. I’m an Alpha.”

Cheng looked up briefly. “I know. So am I.”

Jiang tried to sound casual. “Oh, I’m not conservative or anything. Two Alphas—no big deal. I just think, you know, relationships should be evaluated from multiple angles.”

Cheng said softly, “I know. I’m evaluating right now.”

Jiang hesitated. “And what’s your evaluation so far?”

Cheng finished dabbing iodine, tossed the cotton swab into the bin, and said, “I’ll tell you tonight.”

“So, what are we doing now?”

“Meeting my mom.”

At last, Jiang Manli met the legendary financial powerhouse.

She followed Cheng into the reception hall, nerves taut, expecting a sharp, intimidating woman with a cold, domineering presence.

Instead, she found a serene, elegant beauty.

And to her surprise, the woman was seated in a wheelchair. Beneath her graceful skirt gleamed two polished metal prosthetic legs.

Jiang Manli suddenly understood why Cheng Ying had grown distant from her friends after falling ill—and why she no longer attended any high-society gatherings.

She’d never been good at hiding her emotions, so her shock was written plainly across her face.

Cheng Ying smiled. “You must be Manli, right? Did I scare you?”

Jiang Manli, who always spoke her mind, blurted out, “Auntie, why don’t you move back to the city? You don’t have any help here, and your legs aren’t convenient. If there’s a forest fire or something, you’d have nowhere to run!”

Cheng Ying blinked in surprise, studying Jiang Manli for a few seconds before laughing. “You really are just like Qi Xin. No wonder—you two are mother and daughter.”

Only then did Jiang Manli realize how blunt she had been. She scratched her head awkwardly. “Really? My mom says I don’t have any sense at all, haha.”

“Yes, very much alike.” Cheng Ying curved her lips into a faint smile, her eyes soft with reminiscence. “When Qi Xin was young, she was just as outspoken. Said whatever came to mind, offended people without even realizing it. But all of us loved being around her.”

“Really? You don’t know how lucky you are! Before I left home, she scolded me for half an hour!” Jiang Manli launched into a lively rant. “She plays mahjong with her friends every day but somehow still says I’m not learning the right things.”

Jiang Manli tended to exaggerate, and a few casual curses slipped out here and there, but Cheng Ying only listened with gentle amusement, never once showing offense. In fact, she often laughed at Jiang Manli’s antics.

Cheng Ying turned to look at Cheng Qingyan, who gave a small, embarrassed smile.

The three of them chatted for a while before going for a stroll in the garden. It was the first time in her life that Jiang Manli had tried so hard to make a good impression. She offered to push Cheng Ying’s wheelchair, only to find it was a fully automated model—capable of climbing stairs, no help needed.

Cheng Ying had truly taken a liking to her. When Cheng Qingyan went to trim some flowers, she pulled Jiang Manli aside. “Manli, I wasn’t very good at raising children. I made Qingyan too rigid and proper. You’re cheerful and lively—spend more time with her, will you? Auntie’s counting on you.”

Jiang Manli’s face flushed. “Alright.”

In the blink of an eye, their three-day stay was coming to an end. Jiang Manli followed Cheng Qingyan back to her house and sat in the living room, waiting for the “final evaluation.”

She thought Cheng Qingyan had only been joking, but the other woman disappeared into her study and didn’t come out for quite a while. Jiang Manli tried pressing her ear against the door, but she couldn’t hear a thing.

Bored, she started playing a game on her phone. About an hour later, Cheng Qingyan finally emerged—holding several sheets of letter paper.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said. “Two copies—please sign both.”

Sign? Two copies? Jiang Manli took the papers, and her face instantly turned red. Written across the top in neat, bold characters were two words: Love Letter.

Who in the world titles their love letter “Love Letter”?

It was handwritten by Cheng Qingyan, her penmanship so precise it looked like it had been printed. As Jiang Manli read on, her blush deepened with every line. Cheng Qingyan’s words were too straightforward—almost painfully so. If someone else had written it, they’d have thought it came from some hopelessly earnest straight man:

“From the moment I kissed you, I began to feel something different.”

“When I saw the joy on your face as you ate, I realized happiness could be so simple.”

“When I saw how you changed for me, my heart couldn’t stop racing.”

It was mortifying.

The final paragraph read:

“After spending three days with you, I’ve confirmed that you are someone special to me. I will officially begin to pursue you, and I hope you’ll allow me to be a part of your future.”

At the bottom were the words:

Party A: Jiang Manli

Party B: Cheng Qingyan

Who makes a love letter sound like a business contract?

Jiang Manli pushed the papers back toward her. “I’m not signing that.”

Cheng Qingyan accepted them, her tone tinged with disappointment. “So that means I’ve been rejected?”

Jiang Manli frowned, flustered. “If you don’t know how to write a love letter, then don’t force it! We’re not signing a dating contract—what’s with the Party A and Party B stuff?”

Cheng Qingyan froze. “So you mean?”

“Forget it,” Jiang Manli said, waving her hand. “We’ve got plenty of time. Let me teach you how to write a proper love letter.”

A faint blush crept up Cheng Qingyan’s cheeks as understanding dawned. After a moment, she slid the letter back across the table. “Still, you should sign it. Just in case you change your mind.”

“Ugh.” Jiang Manli groaned, muttering under her breath, “You do realize you don’t need the other person’s permission to pursue them, right?”

“You don’t?” Cheng Qingyan asked innocently. The next second, she pulled a few more sheets of paper from her pocket like a magician. “Then surely you’ll agree we should at least set a few ground rules?”

“Regarding your habits and lifestyle choices, I have several concerns. This is a proposed wellness plan for your own good—please review carefully.”

Jiang Manli looked skeptical, but the moment she saw the first line, she exploded.

Clause 1: You may visit a bar no more than once per week, and your alcohol intake shall not exceed 300ml each time.

“I do not agree! Absolutely not!”

“Invalid objection,” Cheng Qingyan replied smoothly. “It’s an attached clause to the love letter. You already signed it.”

For once, a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes.

Jiang Manli stared at her, speechless. “You capitalist villain.”

Cheng Qingyan smiled, her voice soft and certain. “We’ve got a long road ahead. Let me walk it with you—and change together.”

(THE END)