After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine - Chapter 28.2

The Chi family’s legal goal was to get Chu Si convicted and sentenced — the longer, the better. Their lawyer was a friend of Shen Xinyi’s, known for winning cases involving gender-based abuse and minority rights.

Under the law, an Alpha injecting an Omega and attempting to mark her — even if unsuccessful — carried a prison sentence of one to three years without reconciliation. Not a heavy sentence, but a sentence nonetheless.

Chu Si’s defense would argue it wasn’t intentional — but unfortunately for her, she had set up a camera to record the scene, and the footage was irrefutable.

There was no way Chi Yang’s side could lose — it was only a matter of how long the sentence would be.

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During the recess, Chi Qing stepped out to take a call. When she returned, her expression was grim.

“The land in East City — we were planning to develop it into a commercial hub with the Song family. We’ve already invested a lot in planning and smoothing things over.”

“Normally no one dares to compete with us. When the Chi family sets its sights on something, people stay out of the way.”

Chi Qing clenched her jaw and sighed.

“But I just got a call — Mo Tian is suddenly showing interest in the project. And she’s partnering with the eldest branch of our own family.”

“Your aunt?”

Chi Yang frowned. “Grandmother hates internal infighting — especially with outsiders involved. They’ve always kept their sabotage behind the scenes. Why team up with Mo Tian openly now?”

Chi Qing sneered, “That fool doesn’t even realize she’s being used.”

Her expression turned dark. “The Mo family has always wanted to break into biomedical tech — especially our core intellectual property. But it’s too big a piece for Mo Tian to swallow alone. She can only try to share it with the Bai family.”

“You think they’ll actually form an alliance?”

“Not likely. They would never agree on how to split the profits. It’s too early for a real partnership. Mo Tian’s just trying to send me a warning.”

She paused. “But I still don’t know what exactly she wants.”

At that moment, Chi Qing’s phone buzzed.

It was a text from an unknown number:

Either settle, or the billions you’ve invested are going down the drain. Your choice.

Attached was a scanned copy of a settlement agreement.

Chi Yang glanced at it.

“Mo Tian wants to bail out Chu Si?”

The shock hit her like a slap — as if Mo Tian had picked up an ant from the street and decided to worship it like a god.

“Or maybe she just wants to mess with us,” Chi Qing muttered.

She typed a reply:

A few billion? Consider it a gift, President Mo. Don’t be shy.

“But you spent half a year negotiating that deal,” Chi Yang said.

Chi Qing shut her phone. “What, are you thinking of accepting the settlement?”

“Of course not,” Chi Yang’s lips curved under her mask. “I just meant, even if you regret it later, it doesn’t matter — I will never put the Chi family ahead of my own interests.”

Chi Qing looked resigned. “It’s your family too.”

“My studio’s doing just fine. I’ll take my share of the inheritance and leave the rest to you.”

Suddenly, a buzz.

Chi Yang thought it was another message for Chi Qing and leaned over to peek — but Chi Qing’s phone showed no new notifications.

“Not mine.”

Chi Yang froze. She reached into her coat, pulled out her own phone, and opened a new message.

It was also from an unknown number — identical to the one Chi Qing had received.

Chi Qing handed over her phone.

The numbers were a perfect match.

“It’s Mo Tian.”

A video was sent over.

A sense of dread immediately settled in her chest.

As Chi Yang’s finger hovered over the screen, her right eye twitched involuntarily.

Just as she was about to pull her hand back and turn off the phone, Chi Qing grabbed the device and tapped on the video.

It was a dim, shadowy room. Even without sound, the air reeked of moral decay.

A chaotic, explicit orgy.

Several Alphas and a group of Omegas, all naked — uncensored, high-definition. Even through the screen, Chi Qing could almost smell the sickly-sweet mix of pheromones that made her stomach churn.

The air was thick with smoke. Empty bottles littered the floor. A large red bed was scattered with… “toys.”

Chi Qing watched with growing disgust, fighting the urge to shut off the video several times.

Then, at the end of the video, a familiar figure stood up from the mess, loosely draping clothes over her body. She wobbled slightly, turned her head — and there it was.

Pei Jiuyao’s face.

Her expression was still stained with the remnants of lust — seductive, indulgent. It was a look Chi Yang had never seen on her before — not even during Pei Jiuyao’s susceptibility phase.

She looked like a predator of the pleasure world — a vessel soaked in desire, empty and soulless.

Chi Yang’s eyelashes fluttered. She immediately turned her gaze away, but Pei Jiuyao’s face was already burned into her mind — impossible to erase.

It wasn’t until Chi Qing took her hand that Chi Yang realized how badly she was trembling.

“I don’t believe that’s really her,” Chi Yang said, her voice unsteady.

“In all the time I’ve spent with her… she had never been like that. Never.”

Chi Qing turned off the video, her tone flat. “But you never truly trusted her, did you?”

“You believe it might be real, but because you like her, you’ve wrapped her in a filter of your own making.”

“It’s not a filter,” Chi Yang said firmly. These four words came with more conviction than any previous denial.

Chi Qing gave a faint, knowing smile. “Then if you know what kind of person she is, why don’t you believe it?”

Chi Yang looked up sharply.

She had assumed someone like Chi Qing would tell her to cut her losses and condemn Pei Jiuyao.

Instead, Chi Qing held her hand gently and said, “They might not be the same person.”

She was obviously referring to the possibility that the video had been AI-generated.

But Chi Yang suddenly remembered what Pei Jiuyao had once said:

“I’m not the same person I used to be.”

And hadn’t she herself said — “I believe you. Let’s start over.”

If trust was so fragile that a single video could shatter it, what was the point of building it in the first place?

The Pei Jiuyao she remembered would blush just from getting close enough to help her put on a necklace. Even a hug required a gentle, hesitant approach. If she said no to kissing, Pei Jiuyao would only dare to touch the blood on her lips with her fingers.

Pure. Harmless.

Chi Yang picked up her phone and typed in the message box:

[President Mo, there’s no need for such pathetic tests. If you think a single video can manipulate me, you’ve badly misjudged.]

“President Chi, trending topic,” Shen Xinyi suddenly said, handing her the phone.

The top trending tags were explosive: “Top Actress in Group Orgy,” “Pei Jiuyao Casting Couch Scandal,” “Pei Jiuyao Accused of Forcing Omegas XXX.”

Clicking into it revealed that a few D-list nobodies were accusing Pei Jiuyao of coercing backgroundless starlets into sleeping with her.

They also claimed Pei Jiuyao was being kept by a powerful industry figure — that she had forced her way into Zheng Qiuhua’s production and kicked out a previously confirmed supporting actress.

Apparently, that actress had lost 20 pounds for the role, only to be replaced at the last minute by a “resource-hungry” rival.

Chi Yang stared at the vague phrase “a certain actress” and scoffed coldly.

Baseless rumors that didn’t even dare to name names — how pathetic.

She typed another message:

[You think a few trending posts can turn the tide? Mo Tian, since when do you spend this much effort on someone like Chu Si?]

Mo Tian didn’t even bother pretending:

[Chu Si isn’t worth it. But making the Chi family miserable? I quite enjoy that. Spending a few billion just to make President Chi uncomfortable — totally worth it.]

[I’m just curious — how far will little Chi Yang go for someone like Pei Jiuyao?]

The phrase “little Chi Yang” made her stomach turn. And “someone like Pei Jiuyao” — that one jabbed her right in the chest.

She snapped back:

[Don’t provoke me. You know exactly what kind of person I am.]

[Oh, I know. No one stands in your way. But you’re not the only one who can sue.]

Mo Tian’s next message oozed arrogance:

[What if that group of Omegas files charges, claiming Pei Jiuyao assaulted them? Imagine what would happen. Don’t believe me? Go ahead — get the video forensically analyzed.]

“President Chi.” Shen Xinyi handed her another phone.

Chi Yang leaned over — several major brands had just issued statements unilaterally terminating their contracts with Pei Jiuyao.

Even without a clear face in the video, they couldn’t wait to sever ties.

Leading the charge was the cosmetics brand Pei Jiuyao had just signed with days ago.

If Mo Tian dared say all that so confidently, then the video was likely real.

She was testing the limits of Chi Yang’s patience with Pei Jiuyao — and Chi Yang wasn’t confident enough to call the bluff.

But suddenly, she wanted to believe her.

The Chi Yang who had never trusted Pei Jiuyao — now, after seeing such damning “evidence,” found herself wanting to give her a chance.

She actually thought: Pei Jiuyao’s future can’t be ruined like this.

That person who had dazzled on stage — who could outshine an entire galaxy — who once said, “You’ll soon be amazed by me,” with such pride…

It was like she knew she was a genius — a raw, uncut gem.

Brilliant. Blinding.

There was no way that could be the same person in that video.

If Pei Jiuyao’s future now hinged on her decision…

Would Chi Yang really walk away?

No. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

When the court reconvened, Chi Yang stood and looked at Chi Qing.

“Tell them… I’m willing to issue a letter of forgiveness.”

Then she turned and left.

Chi Yang knew Mo Tian had won.

But she also knew — she hadn’t lost.

After finishing the recording session with Xu You, night had fallen.

Xu You later asked what the song was called.

Pei Jiuyao thought for a moment, then said, “Let’s call it Limited-Time Love.”

“Limited-Time Love, huh?” Xu You laughed lightly. “Sounds like a tragic romance.”

Pei Jiuyao smiled. “Tragedy doesn’t have to be the end. Sometimes, it’s just the beginning.”

“You’re right.”

As Pei Jiuyao changed clothes, Xu You sat nearby, idly scrolling her phone. Her expression turned curious.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, “is this you?”

Pei Jiuyao took the phone.

The first thing she saw was her name plastered across multiple trending tags.

She tapped open the video. Though the person’s face was pixelated, people had already identified her from her height, build, and other features — all “conclusive evidence” that it was “Pei Jiuyao.”

Even a few Z-listers she’d never met were jumping in to smear her name.

Pei Jiuyao closed the video. Her heart raced unsteadily.

“That’s not me.”

“As long as it doesn’t affect our collaboration,” Xu You said, raising an eyebrow.

Later, sitting in the car, Pei Jiuyao watched the video again — nauseated, but forcing herself to analyze it.

She knew her own body better than anyone. And truthfully, Pei Jiuyao still wasn’t sure if she had transmigrated with her soul or her entire body.

When she first arrived, her eyes felt… different. She had assumed it was just her soul.

But the body truly was identical to the original.

Even with the censoring, she recognized it — this was the “original” Pei Jiuyao.

She was just about to turn off the video.

Then something in the footage caught her eye — a brief glint on the person’s body.

She quickly scrubbed the video back.

Her lips curled into a slow smile.

So it was body transmigration after all.