After the Scumbag Alpha Accidentally Marked the Blackened Villain - Chapter 129

After finishing her 8 AM class, Lin Bie was walking back to the dormitory when the class monitor sent a message in the group chat. It was about a school choir competition—students were needed to participate, and there were academic credits up for grabs.

Having only been a freshman for two months, Lin Bie was at the stage where every credit mattered. She didn’t even check what the event was—she saw the words “academic credit” and promptly signed up with her student ID and name. Her roommate, Fu Yun, signed up too.

A few days later, Lin Bie and Fu Yun arrived at the designated location as per the instructions in the group chat. When they pushed open the door, they found the room already filled with people—clearly all here for the same event.

Lin Bie wore a black T-shirt and a black cap. She had barely stepped inside before the heat hit her like a wave. She and Fu Yun found seats in a corner, whispering quietly to each other.

“It’s boiling. Why on earth are you wearing all black?” Fu Yun asked, puzzled.

Lin Bie used her cap as a fan to cool herself down. “I thought the meeting was tomorrow. I did laundry this afternoon and washed all my clothes. This was the only outfit left besides my pajamas.

Unless you wanted me to show up in those…”

Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she mentally scolded herself. Her gaze drifted toward the window, staring absentmindedly at the path outside. A stone-paved road was flanked by lush green bamboo, swaying gently in the wind. As they brushed past the glass, it felt as though they were gliding across her fingers.

Night was falling. The moonlight streamed like water. Her reflection shimmered faintly in the glass. She tilted her head, chin resting on her palm, fanning herself lazily as she watched her own silhouette.

Fu Yun grew restless and got up to chat with others, leaving Lin Bie alone in the corner, gazing quietly outside.

Suddenly, amidst the swaying shadows of the trees, a figure dressed in pure white appeared.

Lin Bie froze.

The moonlight seemed to favor this woman especially, casting a soft glow around her. She wore a white dress and stepped into view like a vision from a dream.

Lin Bie’s hand slowed, her fanning coming to a stop as she watched the woman walk.

She was slender. The dress rippled in the breeze as she spoke with someone beside her. Even in the dim light, her profile was breathtaking. The moonlight enveloped her like a spotlight, and for

Lin Bie, everything else in the room faded into the background.

Maybe her gaze was too intense, because the woman suddenly turned her head—eyes meeting hers. For one long moment, their eyes locked.

Time seemed to halt.

The room fell silent. Lin Bie’s breathing stopped. Even her heartbeat froze. All she could feel were those stunning dark eyes and that face—so beautiful it was almost otherworldly.

The moment was fleeting—just a second of eye contact. But it felt like a lifetime. When Lin Bie finally looked away, her heart started beating again, as if it had just remembered how. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Hands and feet tingled. Heat spread from her collarbone to the tips of her ears. Sweat beaded again on her forehead, as if she’d been doused with warm water.

She picked up her cap to fan herself again, mind blank.

By the time she remembered to look out the window once more, the woman in white was gone. Only the swaying shadows of the bamboo remained, proof that what just happened wasn’t a dream.

Fu Yun returned, plopping down beside her. Seeing how much Lin Bie was still sweating, she frowned at the classroom ceiling.

“Is the air conditioning broken? You’re sweating more now than when we first got here.”

Lin Bie forced herself to calm her pounding heart and said lightly, “Probably just the black clothes absorbing heat, haha.”

Fu Yun seemed like she wanted to say more, but at that moment, the upperclassmen organizing the event walked in. The room fell quiet. She nudged Lin Bie with her elbow. Lin Bie lifted her cap and put it back on her head to shield her eyes.

With her head lowered, she glanced at her phone—only to realize, with horror, that she’d accidentally signed up for the school’s choir competition.

A thick black line of dread metaphorically crossed her forehead.

She couldn’t sing. Absolutely tone-deaf. She could barely hum something passable, let alone perform in front of an audience.

Groaning, she cupped her cheeks with both hands and sighed.

Just then, a woman’s voice flowed in from the front of the room. It was soft, like a gentle stream under moonlight, seeping straight into her chest. The whole world seemed to quiet down.

Lin Bie’s hands paused mid-sigh.

She looked up.

And there she was—the woman from earlier.

Even under the fluorescent lights, she was dazzling. Holding a microphone, her voice was mellow and warm, tinged with a subtle smile. Occasionally, someone from the crowd would ask a question, and her responses were so pleasant, always delivered with a gracious, polite smile.

Now Lin Bie understood the meaning of the phrase “an exile from the heavens.”

Elegant. Gentle. Sharp. Cold. So many contrasting words, yet they all described her perfectly.

The sweltering heat around Lin Bie seemed to evaporate. She sat there dumbfounded, eyes glued to the woman. Every now and then, the woman’s gaze swept toward their corner. Once, their eyes met again. Lin Bie didn’t look away in time—and in that moment, the woman’s lips curved ever so slightly.

So subtle that no one else might have noticed.

Lin Bie froze again. Before she could confirm if it was really a smile, the woman turned away. Lin Bie sat there dazed, wondering if she had imagined it. She peeked up again, her eyes hidden under the brim of her cap, staring at her like a starstruck fool. But the woman didn’t look her way again. She simply finished speaking and passed the microphone to someone else.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, Lin Bie felt a pang of disappointment.

Beside her, Fu Yun gasped like someone surfacing after drowning, clutching Lin Bie’s arm in excitement.

“She’s so beautiful! How can someone look like that? It’s like she’s from another plane of existence! Did you see her looking this way just now? She’s gorgeous!”

Lin Bie, jostled by her enthusiasm, gave a helpless smile. “Yeah, I saw.”

She risked another glance at the woman, then quickly looked away. Just one more look, and she felt like her heart might explode.

“Who is she? One of the organizers?” Lin Bie tried to sound casual, but the tiny quiver in her voice betrayed her nervous anticipation.

“You seriously don’t know who Leng Jinxi is?” Fu Yun looked shocked. She went from shaking Lin Bie’s arm to practically grabbing it.

Suddenly, Lin Bie felt a cold, sharp gaze shoot in their direction. A chill ran down her spine, as if the room had turned icy. She looked up instinctively—but saw nothing.

Turning her head back, she subtly pulled her arm free from Fu Yun’s grip. “Leng Jinxi?”

Judging by her tone, Fu Yun instantly knew she had no clue. She opened the campus forum and leaned in close.

“Leng Jinxi. Our department’s third-year senior. Absolutely stunning. Beautiful voice. Super gentle. Apparently, she’s already signed with a talent agency and will be filming soon. So many people are secretly in love with her.”

She handed Lin Bie her phone. “Look—gorgeous, right? I swear she’s a character straight out of a divine folktale. I thought I wouldn’t get to see her in person before she left for filming, but look at my luck. Two months in and here she is, sob sob sob…”

Lin Bie glanced down at the screen. It was a photo of Leng Jinxi in the library, taken by her roommate. The golden sunset bathed her in a soft glow. Her features were outlined like an oil painting. She was looking down at her study notes, and if it wasn’t for the pen marks on the paper, Lin Bie would’ve mistaken the image for a professional photoshoot.

“She really is beautiful,” Lin Bie murmured, memorizing the name of the post. She planned to download the photo later.

“Do you think we might have a chance to get her contact info through this event? I won’t bother her, I promise—I just want to follow her socials. She’s so pretty, it’s like aesthetic therapy!”

“Fu Yun…”

“Do you think she’s staying after this? Would it be rude if I went up and asked for her WeChat…?”

“Fu Yun.” Lin Bie jabbed her with an elbow, trying to get her to shut up. Her face remained calm, but inside, she was in full-blown panic mode.

“Stop talking. Leng Jinxi heard you. She’s looking over here.”