After Redeeming the Female Lead, I Faked My Death and Escaped - Chapter 38.2

Pulled into a corner, unable to resist, she could only watch as the cat drew closer and closer to Gu Qingzhu.

The omega sat upright, like a statue carved from jade. Light pooled at the tip of her nose as her gaze lowered, watching the cat leap onto the sofa, then climb up her leg and onto her arm.

The closer it got, the more Gu Qingzhu detected an indescribable scent of decay.

Even now, Gu Qingzhu remembered vividly the first time she had seen the corpse of an animal.

The sky had been clear, a rare break in the days of rain that had drenched Star City.

Xu Ying usually waited for her after school, but on rare occasions, Gu Qingzhu would spot her outside the school gates. Among the passing crowds, she always stood in the same spot, silent and still, her eyes fixed on a billboard at the street corner.

Occasionally, classmates would greet Xu Ying with a smile, and the beta would respond softly, only lighting up when she saw Gu Qingzhu.

Gu Qingzhu loved seeing her smile but hated when she interacted with others.

Xu Ying reached out, but instead of handing over her bag, Gu Qingzhu asked, “Why were you talking to her?”

Xu Ying replied, “She asked me about a problem.”

Gu Qingzhu pressed, “Did it really take that long to explain?”

In her youth, Gu Qingzhu was quick to anger over the smallest things. Her temper was a spark waiting to ignite. Xu Ying was the only one who could provoke her yet still escape harsh reprimands.

Because she loved Xu Ying.

This was one of the few secrets Gu Qingzhu willingly kept. Whether Xu Ying knew her feelings, she wasn’t sure. But she never brought it up, not wanting to burden her.

Yet at school, Xu Ying got along with everyone. Omegas flocked to her, and everyone was close to her Gu Qingzhu didn’t stand out. This only fueled her frustration, often resulting in Xu Ying coaxing her all the way home.

By the time the car door opened, Gu Qingzhu’s anger had dissipated, and she was “normal” again.

In June, the magnolia blossoms were past their prime, their fragrance growing heavier as they wilted.

Faced with Gu Qingzhu’s nitpicking, Xu Ying seemed unsure how to respond. In silence, she simply reached out again, trying to take Gu Qingzhu’s bag.

This move, however, met with resistance from Gu Qingzhu. The scent of flowers irritated her, making her restless. She glared at Xu Ying before turning and walking away.

Beta followed behind her under the scorching sun.

It was another year of differentiation. As more and more people around her presented as alphas, Gu Qingzhu’s condition worsened. During class, her vision often blurred, and tinnitus became a common occurrence yet she never mentioned it.

She wanted to walk to and from school with Xu Ying. She didn’t want to be left behind, to be ignored.

Gu Qingzhu knew Xu Ying didn’t need to understand any of this. But she wished for her gaze to linger on her, rather than always being preoccupied with irrelevant people or matters.

Lost in these thoughts, she quickened her pace, just as a sharp screech of brakes pierced the air behind her.

Gu Qingzhu didn’t even realize what had happened. Her blood ran cold, and she froze in place.

Only when a hand lightly settled on her shoulder did she snap back to reality. Beta stepped in front of her, eyes calm and steady.

Gu Qingzhu’s lips trembled, unable to form words, but the person before her seemed to understand everything. Softly, she reassured, “I’m fine.”

Even now, Beta still had to add, “Let me carry your bag. It’ll tire you out.”

Gu Qingzhu stood rooted to the spot. By the time she regained her senses, her fingers were already tightly clutching the hem of the girl’s clothes.

Xu Ying was quite a bit taller than Gu Qingzhu. Whenever they touched, her body always felt slightly cold. This sudden embrace caught Beta off guard. For nearly a minute, Gu Qingzhu held onto her with an almost desperate grip.

Only when Gu Qingzhu began to loosen her hold did Beta finally raise a hand to gently pat her back.

The scent of magnolias filled the air. Gu Qingzhu turned her face away. Nestled in the other’s arms, she finally dared to look at the car.

But it had already driven off. All that remained was a small pool of blood and a kitten, crushed beneath the wheels, stiff and lifeless on the ground.

“It was an accident,” Beta said gently. “It’ll find a better place.”

With her by her side, Gu Qingzhu buried the kitten beneath a tree, fervently hoping that this world truly had an “afterlife.”

That very night, Gu Qingzhu saw the kitten again.

On the Gu family’s dining table or, more precisely, floating in a pot of boiling water, its fur already stripped away, leaving only pale flesh bobbing in the scalding liquid.

A man remarked casually, “You’re too fragile. You need to toughen up.”

When it had died, its body hadn’t yet decayed. Its fur had gleamed under the sunlight, still warm to the touch.

But now, Gu Qingzhu was overwhelmed by an unprecedented stench of rot, emanating from the person before her, and from the hollow pit of her stomach two days later.

She turned her face away, her dark pupils fixed on the kitten. She reached out, stroking it.

Just as she had in her memory, when she had carefully cradled the kitten in her hands, her fingers gliding slowly from its back until they reached its neck.

The next second, her fingers tightened. Gu Qingzhu gripped the kitten’s neck.

The kitten seemed unaware of this sudden movement, its hollow eyes staring blankly at her. Before everyone’s eyes, she hurled it violently onto the sofa with such force that it bounced momentarily upon impact.

Time seemed to freeze in that second until a shrill cat’s cry pierced the air, and the creature swiftly darted away.

Yet no one cared whether it was alive or dead. All eyes remained fixed on Gu Qingzhu like sharp hooks, as if they wouldn’t rest until they had torn the flesh from her bones.

Gu Qingzhu stood up, her dark green gown pooling on the floor like a thick, viscous cloud.

She wiped her fingers with a tissue, her gaze settling on Song Fei’s face not far away, taking in the woman’s shock and hesitation with cold clarity.

“Song Fei,” Gu Qingzhu spoke, her tone laced with a faint trace of amusement. “Tell me, next time, will it be you who takes that fall?”

Though phrased as a question, her calm demeanor made it sound more like a statement of inevitability.

Finally, some began to feel a flicker of fear, wary of offending Gu Qingzhu, and attempted to “mediate.” But the omega’s attention didn’t linger on them for even a second.

A wave of nausea surged up Gu Qingzhu’s throat, so overwhelming that another moment of stillness would have made her vomit uncontrollably.

The crowd remained as unsettled as the startled cat, still buzzing with tension even after Gu Qingzhu had left, bombarding Song Fei with questions.

Had it not been for the beta’s promise of rewards in exchange for their cooperation in this charade, they would never have stood by and done nothing.

Anyone could see that Gu Qingzhu was terrified of cats, yet Song Fei had deliberately let the creature near her.

Song Fei smirked dismissively and raised a hand, signaling for Lu’s assistant to be released.

The woman had no time to spare for her, rushing out in a panic. She hadn’t forgotten what had happened the last time Gu Qingzhu was left alone.

The rest of the restless crowd was gradually “escorted” out until only Song Fei remained in the room. She bent down and picked up the cat from beneath the sofa.

It lay motionless, limp in her grasp, its texture unnervingly smooth, like taut leather.

“Not very sturdy, are you?” Song Fei flipped it over and discovered that after Gu Qingzhu’s throw, only one of its eyes remained. The socket was filled with intricately coiled wires, faintly glowing.

If it hadn’t been swiftly controlled to flee, this bionic cat would have exposed itself much sooner.

With a cold scoff, she tossed the cat aside and sent the footage from the hidden camera to a contact.

Soon, the edited video came back: 【Post it on StarNet.】

Song Fei replied lazily: 【Don’t forget your promise.】

The contact labeled 【XY】 fell silent for a few seconds.

【I’ll keep my word.】

【Until then, do what you’re supposed to.】

When the bar door swung open, Ying Xu immediately noticed how different the decor was from the photos.

In the images, the lighting had been a deep blue, clearly altered by Sheng Qiuyu to match Ying Xu’s preferences. But now, the entire space was bathed in fiery orange-red.

If the omega had been here, the colors wouldn’t have changed.

Ying Xu scanned the room but found no trace of Sheng Qiuyu.

She already sensed something was off but still approached a staff member to inquire. The moment she showed Sheng Qiuyu’s photo, the woman’s expression shifted with recognition clearly, the omega had left an impression.

“She was here just last night,” the staff member said, her tone tinged with something odd, as if she’d mistaken Ying Xu for another alpha trying to hit on Sheng Qiuyu. “But she doesn’t like interacting with alphas, so you’d better ”

Last night. Which meant she wasn’t here today.

Ying Xu suddenly remembered the message Cheng Jun had sent her that afternoon and dialed the communication request.

In just two seconds, Cheng Jun answered, and Ying Xu heard a familiar voice.

“Ying Xu, how could you Cheng Jun, what are you grabbing for? I haven’t even spoken yet!”

Ying Xu ended the call.

She stood frozen for several seconds before finally realizing she had been deceived.

The one who contacted her wasn’t Sheng Qiuyu, it was Sheng Changming.

It was nearly a thirty-minute drive from here to the hotel.

What was Qing Hong planning to do to Gu Qingzhu?

The problems kept swirling before her eyes. Ying Xu decided to contact Gu Qingzhu while walking.

If the woman was still at the hotel, she should see her messages and reply casually.

But no all the messages seemed to vanish into thin air.

The same went for Assistant Lu.

She switched screens and searched for Gu Qingzhu on StarNet.

If Qinghong really intended to do something extreme, today wasn’t the right time. Besides, Ying Xu and Gu Qingzhu were practically bound together by public opinion at this point. If anything happened to her, no one could easily wash their hands of it.

Tonight, StarNet seemed unusually slow. Until the search results appeared, Ying Xu still held onto a sliver of hope that she was just overthinking things.

Then the full page loaded before her eyes.

The content wasn’t some marketing account using Ying Xu’s name for clicks, nor was it hate from Gu Qingzhu’s fans. Instead, it was a video posted just ten minutes ago, already surpassing 100,000 likes.

Uploader: Song Fei.

The video wasn’t long only thirty seconds. When the hairless cat appeared on screen and jumped onto Gu Qingzhu’s lap, the comments were still eagerly discussing: [Ugly, but so obedient.]

As Gu Qingzhu stroked the cat, someone even wrote: [I want to be petted like that too [cute]]

But everything changed in the next second.

In the blink of an eye, the omega had grabbed the cat by its neck and flung it down without hesitation.

The screen was instantly flooded with question marks, leaving no empty space. The video was too short, quickly looping on replay. In no time, the live viewership surpassed a million.

The comment section was almost entirely filled with conspiracy theories, questioning whether Gu Qingzhu would have killed the cat if the sofa hadn’t been right beside her.

The moment Ying Xu recognized the cat, she knew Gu Qingzhu would do something extreme.

But Gu Qingzhu’s actions still exceeded her expectations.

Public opinion was updating by the minute. Within just a few minutes, the entire internet was flooded with news about Gu Qingzhu.

Some seized the opportunity to dredge up old scandals about her. Half-truths and lies, fans still refused to buy it, but others, whose impressions of Gu Qingzhu had already been shattered, expressed their shock in the comments while perpetuating the rumors.

The image of the untouchable snow-capped mountain began to crumble within half an hour, accusations of buying her way into productions, rewriting scripts to add scenes for herself, bullying fellow actors and assistants. All her previous behavior was nothing but an act, a carefully crafted persona for profit.

The rumors fed into one another, leaving no room to breathe before another “shocking” past incident was pushed to the forefront.

Truth no longer mattered only the value of exploitation did.

Gu Qingzhu’s name topped the search rankings like an inverted fireworks display.

Not long ago, Ying Xu had been “known” by everyone in the same way.

The alpha’s scrolling was interrupted by an incoming call.

Staring at the name [Assistant Lu], Ying Xu answered.

Amid the silence, the woman’s voice stood out sharply.

Clearly shaken by the backlash, her voice trembled with lingering fear: “Miss Ying.”

“Qingzhu is missing.”

The rain was falling harder now.

The cat is a tech product. It’s not a real living cat real cats wouldn’t approach Gu Qingzhu.

Actually, her fear of cats isn’t just because of this. (Though even writing this much makes me uneasy.)