After My Fiancée Failed to Pretend to Be an Alpha - Chapter 8

For Tang Cheng, this kind of inspection held little meaning. Only mechanics lacking confidence in their own work relied on such procedures. Materials were meant to be durable—durable enough that replacement alone should suffice.

Inspections were nothing more than a mechanic’s way of avoiding responsibility after the fact.

Her hands never stopped moving.

Circuit one—correct.

Circuit two—intact.

Circuit three—still usable.

In barely fifteen minutes, Tang Cheng had finished her inspection, the first to walk out of the circuit zone.

From the central console, Zhou Yidong’s voice came through the headset:

“Please, Miss Tang, treat your work with proper seriousness.”

Tang Cheng didn’t respond. She leaned against the cold machine behind her, calmly packing away her tools.

His voice barked something twice more, but she didn’t catch it—and then it fell silent.

The second to emerge was the female Alpha. She walked straight toward Tang Cheng, offered her a cigarette, and asked, “Smoke?”

Tang Cheng declined. The woman placed it between her own lips, about to light it. “Mind?”

Tang Cheng shook her head again.

The woman spoke: “I’ve heard of you, Tang Cheng.”

Tang Cheng replied coolly: “If it’s just gossip, you don’t need to tell me.”

“Not gossip,” the woman said. “You were A University’s rising star, gifted beyond measure. But after your engagement to President Lu, you fell.”

Fell. That was how she described those years of being sidelined. It was, Tang Cheng thought, an apt choice of words.

She didn’t reject the description. She wanted to see what this woman was really after.

“So why return to the field?” the woman asked.

Tang Cheng shrugged. “Nothing better to do.”

“If drinking every day and playing around with Omegas counts as boredom,” the woman said with a trace of sincerity, “then I’d like that kind of life too.”

Not mockery—something closer to genuine feeling.

Tang Cheng fell silent, her interest in the woman evaporating instantly.

The third person to emerge was the young Alpha beside her. As he stepped out, the woman left Tang Cheng with a parting line:

“We’ll meet again.”

Cryptic. Was this the new fashion, speaking in riddles?

The circuit inspection revealed no major issues. Only one line was worn from age, easily repaired by the veteran mechanic from Tang Cheng’s company.

The executives stationed here received a call and hurried away, leaving the mechanics idle.

Barely fifteen minutes later, a frantic voice came through the headset:

“Who can decode viruses? Report to the fan coil control room!”

It was the general manager who had assigned tasks earlier. Clearly, this was serious.

Mechanics were divided into two types: manufacturing and assembly. Like doctors—some researched vaccines, others treated patients. For the assembly mechanics present, virus decryption was not part of their training.

That skill belonged to the manufacturing specialists, who built firewalls to prevent electronic viruses from causing mechanical seizures. If those assigned to handle it had failed, what use was it to call in the assembly team?

Tang Cheng remained unhurried. This wasn’t her responsibility—her work had already been completed.

The control room was crowded, thick with the scent of machine oil. Zhou Yidong sat at the central console, his earlier composure long gone.

Listening to the earliest arrivals discuss the situation, Tang Cheng pieced together the problem.

Someone had planted a trap virus in the fan coil system’s code. During Zhou Yidong’s inspection, he had inadvertently triggered it. If they attempted to force a decryption, the circuits would reverse-flow, cutting off all electronic signals in the building. Normally, that wouldn’t matter.

But United Tower was special. Its network signals were tied to the firewalls of multiple companies. If the building’s signal collapsed, it would be as if corporate secrets were laid bare in the open air. Even immediate defensive measures couldn’t guarantee safety.

Worse, this was only one system. If the virus was embedded here, who could say whether other systems weren’t linked? It suggested a larger, meticulous plan.

No one dared attempt decryption—the risk was too great.

And Zhou Yidong lacked the skill. He couldn’t solve it. Fifteen minutes remained.

Calling in specialists would take time. By the time they arrived, it would be too late.

All the companies could do was brace for impact, helpless.

Tang Cheng could try. But why should she?

She folded her arms, watching the chaos unfold.

A faint scent of thyme drifted through the air. Not an illusion—Lu Xinxue was here. Tang Cheng glanced upward. In the glass room on the second floor, she met a pair of eyes, faintly irritated.

Her assistant was explaining something beside her. Even she had come in person, this was serious.

Tang Cheng remembered that Lu Corporation had operations in this building. Was this aimed at her?

She locked her gaze on those eyes. Do you need me, Lu Xinxue?

The scent was faint, but Tang Cheng caught it. She exhaled slowly, raised her hand.

“I can try.”

Once again, every gaze turned toward her. The general manager looked at her as though salvation had arrived. Zhou Yidong, slumped in his chair, snapped his head up, jealousy burning in his eyes.

Above, the gaze from the glass room was the hottest of all—searing, laden with emotions unspoken.

Tang Cheng set down her equipment, stepped forward toward the console. Ten minutes remained.

Every gaze in the control room converged on her. The weight of it pressed down like a storm, the entire room holding its breath—until a sharp voice broke the silence.

“Tang Cheng, how certain are you?”

It was Zhou Yidong. Gone was the mocking tone he had used earlier.

Pointing at her, he continued, “She’s nothing but a failure. And you trust her?”

Tang Cheng’s reply was calm, clipped: “Can you handle it? If not, step aside.”

Eight minutes remained.

“Madwoman!” Zhou Yidong snapped. “If I can’t solve it, what makes you think you can?”

Tang Cheng’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re the standard of comparison, then I can only say you’re still pathetic.”

Zhou Yidong surged forward, seizing her collar with a vicious grip. “Tang Cheng,” he hissed, “have you forgotten what our teacher said?”

Tang Cheng said nothing. She shoved him back, straightened her clothes. The general manager hesitated, uncertain whether to entrust her with the console.

But Zhou Yidong pressed harder. “And if something goes wrong? Who takes responsibility? You? Or you? Will you make everyone here pay for your recklessness?”

Murmurs rippled through the room. None of the mechanics wanted to shoulder unnecessary risk.

Zhou Yidong struck while the iron was hot. “I’ve already done my best to contain the damage. My mistakes are mine to bear.” He jabbed a finger at Tang Cheng. “But if she recklessly alters the commands, who can guarantee the consequences won’t fall on all of us?”

It was his usual tactic—waging a battle of public opinion, cloaking himself in moral high ground, pretending to speak for the collective.

Tang Cheng paused, watching him perform. She knew exactly what he was scheming. He would rather accept losses than allow her to succeed. Because if she decrypted the virus, it would shatter his carefully built image as a rising star.

Years ago, he had schemed to drive her out of the academy. Now he would never allow her a chance to rise again.

Zhou Yidong clenched his jaw. He was certain no one would vouch for her.

Tang Cheng—a so-called dissolute Alpha, a mechanic who hadn’t touched equipment in six years. Who would stake their reputation on her?

The room fell into heavy silence.

Then Tang Cheng stepped back, her voice ringing clear:

“As a mechanic, I never need anyone else to bear the weight of my inaction.”

The words carried a pointed truth. She would not fail. She needed no one’s support. She was success itself.

The room froze.

“Besides me, do you have any other choice?” she asked the general manager. No one else here could decrypt the virus. Waiting for outside help was futile. The decision was obvious.

The general manager stepped aside, granting her the console. Tang Cheng arched a brow, then strode forward, taking Zhou Yidong’s former seat at the central control.

No one could stop her—not even the petty clown behind her.

Her hands moved swiftly, parsing the system, locating vulnerabilities, beginning repairs.

The machine was an older model, familiar to her. Despite updates over the years, the fundamentals remained unchanged. Within moments, she had locked onto the terminal through its flaws.

Her gaze never left the code. “Seal the building. The culprit is inside.”

Her fingers flew. The adversary was skilled—already dismantling two of the traps she had set.

Five minutes left.

The general manager looked up. With Lu Xinxue’s approval, he immediately ordered the security system to begin the search.

Tang Cheng’s focus was absolute. Gone was the careless, playful façade. The world narrowed to her and the code. Her keystrokes were precise, effortless, dragging the hidden saboteur into the light.

She looks just like she did at twenty, Lu Xinxue thought. Proud. Brilliant.

She knew what it felt like to have her heart race under those eyes. Thankfully, Tang Cheng never looked up.

If the standoff continued, Lu Xinxue would have spoken—shattering every doubt, like the domineering CEO in a romance novel defending the heroine. But Tang Cheng was no fragile flower. She had the strength, the resolve, to silence every voice of dissent herself.

As for Zhou Yidong—he wasn’t even worth her effort.

She hadn’t planned to come today. Last night, Tang Cheng’s schedule had mentioned United Tower, so Lu Xinxue had freed up time from a meeting to drop by. By chance, she had walked straight into this crisis—and acted immediately.

She had already arranged for headquarters’ mechanics to reinforce defenses. The encryption keys stored in United Tower were tied to the company’s largest deal of the year. This attack was clearly aimed at Lu Corporation. With the tower housing banks, securities, and only a handful of mechanical firms, the keys were prime targets.

But no one had expected both Lu Xinxue and Tang Cheng to be here—one commanding the field, the other charging into battle. The storm had been quelled before it could break.

A message arrived from headquarters: secondary encryption was ready. Even if Tang Cheng failed to decrypt the virus, the secrets had an eighty percent chance of remaining secure.

One minute left.