After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine - Chapter 42.1

After the acquisition was finalized, Chi Qing returned to the company as promised and, in passing, approved a private flight route for Chi Yang.

Pei Jiuyao had always worried about Chi Qing’s health—after all, she knew very well how they had come into this world.

Whether rebirth had a time limit, no one could say for certain.

But Chi Qing carried on with her work and life as usual. Apart from a pallor that made her look faintly sickly, everything else was unaffected. That made Pei Jiuyao feel she might just be overthinking.

The next morning, at dawn, Chi Yang was already up, packing her things.

The housekeeper had helped sort everything, but she still went through each suitcase one by one, checking before sealing them again.

Then she dug around for Pei Jiuyao’s visa and passport—only to realize she had left her own at the company.

When Pei Jiuyao accompanied her to retrieve it, she noticed a sign hanging at the door of Chi Qing’s office:

[Chi Ran and Dogs Not Allowed Inside]

Pei Jiuyao paused mid-step. “That’s… very targeted.”

Chi Yang glanced up, blinking innocently. “Right? But dogs are so cute, don’t you think?”

With that, she playfully ruffled Pei Jiuyao’s hair like she really was a puppy.

When they left with the passport in hand, Chi Yang pulled the sign down and replaced it with another:

[Chi Ran and Pigs Not Allowed Inside]

“Who’s Chi Ran?” Pei Jiuyao was genuinely curious about this woman whom Chi Qing seemed to treat with such special disdain—granting her the dubious honor of being grouped with pigs.

“My aunt,” Chi Yang replied curtly.

“The one who invited you to dinner last night?”

Chi Yang nodded.

Pei Jiuyao reached over and mussed her hair. “And you still dare to go? Aren’t you afraid she’ll bully you?”

“She has the desire, but not the nerve. As long as Grandmother’s alive, she’ll restrain herself. Otherwise she would’ve snatched everything by force long ago.”

Chi Yang slipped her arm through Pei Jiuyao’s. “Enough about that—we’re going on vacation!”

Pointing toward the company’s front gates, her eyes sparkled as she declared, “Aurora, here we come!”

________________________________________

On the Plane.

Chi Yang had been lying there bored out of her mind for three hours.

She pushed the window shade down, then up again. With the cabin heater on, wrapped in a soft blanket, she had no desire to move.

Tossing her phone aside, she lifted her head just in time to see Pei Jiuyao step out of the bathroom.

She wore only a camisole slip, barefoot, her damp hair loosely gathered at the back of her head, steam curling after her like a veil.

Chi Yang often thought Pei Jiuyao’s body was beautiful—

Perhaps it was her height, her perfect proportions, or her warm, ivory skin. She looked like a sculpture carved in flowing lines and bathed in sunlight.

Especially at moments like this, emerging from the bathroom, light spilling from behind her, water sliding from her temple down her jawline, staining the silk fabric of her nightdress in translucent blotches.

This was the body of an Alpha. In contrast, Omegas appeared far more fragile.

After her secondary differentiation into Omega, Chi Yang’s already delicate build had grown even slimmer. Her strength plummeted; her bones and skin both softened into something refined, almost breakable.

This world had rules, after all. And after her differentiation, Chi Yang understood that more keenly than ever:

Everyone had their predetermined place.

“What are you spacing out for?”

Pei Jiuyao’s voice drew her back.

Chi Yang deflected softly, “I was wondering what Xiao Ya’s up to.”

She turned to Pei Jiuyao. “She’s been doing okay lately? Nothing unusual?”

“No, she’s fine. Why?” Pei Jiuyao poured two glasses of water and handed one to her.

Chi Yang accepted it. “It’s just… New Year is around the corner.”

“But Xiao Ya never goes out, does she?” Pei Jiuyao sipped her water. “All she does is stay home playing games.”

“She can’t go out.” Chi Yang’s voice was flat. “When she was little, her family had her kidnapped.”

Pei Jiuyao froze. “Kidnapped? By who?”

“No idea. They never found out. It was a family scandal, so Grandmother forbade any further investigation.” Chi Yang set her glass down. “Since then, she stopped going out. To keep others from locking her up again, she has chosen to lock herself in instead.”

Pei Jiuyao frowned and sat closer. “Your family really is complicated.”

“Yeah.” Chi Yang sighed. “I promised myself I wouldn’t dwell on all that—and yet somehow the conversation always circles back.”

She pushed the window shade up again. The wing sliced through clouds, sky outside a pale blue.

Chi Yang whispered, almost to herself: “This year, I won’t think about family matters. Not at all.”

Pei Jiuyao chuckled. “Wasn’t it you who swore you wanted a triple experience?”

Chi Yang rolled her eyes and closed them, her tone frosty. “Not even death could separate me from my blanket.”

“It’s already warm,” Pei Jiuyao said helplessly. “Stick your hand out and see.”

Chi Yang lazily lifted her fingers, pressing her lips downward. “The wind’s too strong.”

Pei Jiuyao took her hand, squeezing gently, laughter bubbling up. “How about a soak? That’ll warm you up.”

“Then go run the bath for me.” Chi Yang turned over, using her arm as a pillow.

“Alright.”

As Pei Jiuyao walked toward the bathroom, Chi Yang called after her.

“Pei Jiuyao—is that bath just for me?”

“…What do you mean?”

“If other girls get the same treatment, then I don’t want it.”

Pei Jiuyao: “…”

“There are no other girls,” she finally said, leaning against the wall with a laugh. “It’s all yours. I’ll drain the whole Arctic Ocean just for you.”

“And it’ll always be only me?”

Her tone was teasing, not serious—but Pei Jiuyao still answered with gravity.

“Always. Only you.”

Chi Yang nodded, satisfied. “Good. Go on, then.”

When the bath was ready, it took all of Pei Jiuyao’s effort to drag her out of the blanket.

While Chi Yang soaked, Pei Jiuyao got a message from Wen Li asking if she could take a call.

[I’m on the plane.]

Pei Jiuyao had already told her about traveling with Chi Yang.

A moment later, Wen Li replied: [Xu You just sent the demos for those songs to your email. She wants to know when you’ll have the next one written.]

[Is she in a rush? I thought we agreed after New Year.]

[She probably wants to crash the charts—release some tracks early.]

Pei Jiuyao suspected one of Xu You’s rivals must be planning a drop.

[I’ll get it to her soon.]

Just then, Chi Yang peeked her head out of the bathroom. “Pei Jiuyao, I’m bored. Come keep me company.”

Pei Jiuyao froze, unsure what she meant, but still put her phone down and stepped inside.

Chi Yang was lounging in the bath, white bath salts and foam clouding the water.

Her arms rested lazily against the rim of the tub, her fair skin blending seamlessly with the milky water.

“Get in. Talk to me.” Her eyes were clear, her tone languid, carrying the weight of a command.

Though close, they had never bathed together before.

Even soaking side by side was new.

After a beat of hesitation, Pei Jiuyao climbed in—still in her camisole—and leaned against the opposite end, facing her.

The tub was spacious enough for two, the water still steaming hot.

When Pei Jiuyao tried to shift further away, Chi Yang bent her leg, planting her knee against Pei Jiuyao’s shin, keeping her close.

“Where are you going?” she asked, tilting her head. “Why sit so far from me?”

“…I’m not,” Pei Jiuyao answered, moving her leg back. “What do you want to talk about?”

Instead of replying, Chi Yang picked up a small bucket and showed it to her. “Wanna choose one?”

It was filled with bath bombs.

Pei Jiuyao picked out one with a faint champagne-strawberry scent, unwrapped it, and dropped it into the water.

Bubbles fizzed up.

“Looks like boiling water.” Chi Yang poked at them. “Stewed puppy.”

Pei Jiuyao ducked her head with a laugh. “Why are you teasing me out of nowhere?”

Chi Yang pressed her toes gently against Pei Jiuyao’s leg, kneading like a kitten. “Because you’ve been distracted. Something’s on your mind.”

“Xu You’s rushing me to finish the lyrics.”

“Not that.” Chi Yang pressed harder with her foot. “You’ve been preoccupied for days now.”

For days…

Pei Jiuyao had indeed been unsettled for a time by Chu Si’s words.

After all, in the original novel, the heroine had tormented “Pei Jiuyao” to the point of madness. So when Chu Si said, “She’ll kill you too,” it cut deeply, leaving a lasting shadow.

For a moment, Pei Jiuyao even wondered if she had been too quick to trust someone who, to her, was nothing more than a “fictional” character she didn’t truly understand.

But she thought she had hidden her doubts well. Since Chi Yang was often at the company, she shouldn’t have noticed.

Pei Jiuyao knew this world was vastly different from the one she came from. It was like traveling back to ancient times—if one stubbornly insisted on applying modern values, such as demanding “a life for a life” according to the law, it would be absurd.

Historical figures could only be judged within the context of their own time. The same applied to Chi Yang.

Perhaps this was simply their way of surviving. They had their own laws and rules—outsiders like her had no right to interfere.

And yet, part of Pei Jiuyao still believed that choosing who lived or died had nothing to do with environment. It was always about one’s heart.

“Why would I have anything on my mind?” Pei Jiuyao lowered her gaze, grasped Chi Yang’s ankle, and said softly, “Don’t move.”

Chi Yang gave a small hum, her voice low. “That’s something only you would know.”

Pei Jiuyao stayed silent. Chi Yang had never been one to pry—she simply waited for the moment when Pei Jiuyao couldn’t hold it in anymore and gave herself away.

A faint strawberry scent mingled with the steam, wrapping around them.

The heat made Pei Jiuyao light-headed. Her fingers toyed with Chi Yang’s ankle before lightly scratching her sole. Chi Yang jerked back instantly, her ears gradually flushing red.

It was like watching strawberries ripen—time seemed to slow, letting her see every moment of those reddening ears.

Chi Yang’s voice carried a hint of irritation. “Don’t touch me like that.”

Pei Jiuyao shook her head to clear it, then curved her lips into a smile, changing the subject. “Xiao Ya seems to trust you a lot.”

When faced with things she couldn’t untangle, Pei Jiuyao decided to avoid them—for now. Just as Chi Yang had once fled her family.

“When we were kids, Chi Qing was always busy. I looked after her for a while,” Chi Yang said, leaning against the edge of the tub, her expression lost in memory.

“She was still in elementary school then—about this tall.” Chi Yang lifted her hand to indicate the height. “She’d been kidnapped once, developed PTSD, and couldn’t sleep unless I stayed with her every night.”

Then she tilted her head. “You also like holding onto something when you sleep.”

“I prefer holding someone,” Pei Jiuyao replied, pressing her foot lightly against Chi Yang’s waist.

Chi Yang shivered and pushed her away. “You told me not to move, yet here you are stepping all over me.”

Then she ordered, “My shoulders ache. Come rub them for me.”

Pei Jiuyao got up, moved closer, and placed her hands on Chi Yang’s shoulders.

“Here?”

“Mm, a little lower,” Chi Yang murmured, her voice already growing drowsy.

Every time she touched Chi Yang, Pei Jiuyao marveled at how soft her body was—so pliant, unlike ordinary human skin.

“Gentler,” Chi Yang sighed, leaning directly against her.