After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine - Chapter 52.1

The next morning, Chi Yang went to the hospital to visit Chi Qing.

In her memory, Chi Qing’s health had always been strong; seeing her admitted this frequently was a first.

Chi Qing sat upright on the bed with a laptop propped before her, calm-faced though pale, idly biting into an apple between keystrokes.

She looked much the same as always.

Chi Yang quietly stepped back out and went to find Ying Ning and Shen Xinyi.

When she arrived, Ying Ning was frowning hard over a medical report, flipping through it again and again.

An uneasy weight pressed against Chi Yang’s chest. She asked softly, “What’s wrong with her?”

“The report shows nothing at all.” Ying Ning’s voice carried frustration—never once in her career had she seen a case like this.

She handed the papers to Chi Yang, then turned to Shen Xinyi. “You said she suddenly coughed up blood at the company?”

“Coughed up blood?” Chi Yang’s head snapped up. “I thought it was just that she felt unwell?”

“President Chi told me not to tell you…” Shen Xinyi adjusted her glasses. Even recalling that night left her shaken.

They had eaten together, chatted briefly about Old Madam Chi’s illegitimate daughter, and were about to part ways when Chi Qing suddenly doubled over and vomited a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

It had been everywhere—scarlet flooding the floor. In that instant, Shen Xinyi thought Chi Qing was going to die. She panicked, called an ambulance, and cried half the ride to the hospital. Even when Chi Qing woke up, she burst into tears again.

Chi Qing, still dazed, had looked at her in utter confusion, convinced she must already be dead and her soul was just lingering above the ward.

“How could she suddenly spit blood like that!” Chi Yang’s voice rose with distress. “If she’s not sick, then why is this happening?”

Ying Ning pressed her lips together and tugged at Chi Yang’s sleeve. “This afternoon my mother will come run another full examination. Don’t panic yet.”

“Could it be poisoning?” Chi Yang turned sharply to Shen Xinyi. “From Chi Ran? Or Chi Yue? Or maybe—”

Of course Shen Xinyi had considered the possibility. But lately, all of Chi Qing’s meals had come directly from her. Even so, they had run toxicology and biochemical tests—nothing suspicious.

Chi Qing was, medically speaking, perfectly healthy.

Ying Ning squeezed Chi Yang’s hand. “Let’s think positively. Maybe it was just stress taking a toll on her body. Wait until Mother Ying comes this afternoon.”

Chi Yang bit down hard, jaw clenched tight, lips pressed white. Her eyes shimmered red, brimming with unshed tears.

Only after a long silence did she let out a shaky breath. “Fine. I’ll wait for the results.”

Then she hesitated, lifting her head. “Do you think I should go back and help her? She told me so many times she couldn’t handle it, but I never took it seriously. I kept thinking she could manage—but clearly, she can’t.”

When she returned to the room, Chi Yang stood outside the door, torn.

It wasn’t until she heard a voice from inside—“Why are you just standing there? Come in already.”—that her fingers trembled and she pushed the door open, dragging a chair to sit by the bed.

Chi Qing reached into the fruit basket for another apple. Just as Chi Yang leaned forward to take a bite, Chi Qing smacked her hand away.

Chi Yang looked at her blankly, her gaze caught somewhere far away.

“I told you to wash it, and you actually dare take a bite?”

Chi Yang glanced at the apple, gave a guilty little “oh,” wiped her mouth, then obediently washed it before handing it back.

“What’s with you today?” Chi Qing studied her. “You look exhausted. Did Pei Jiuyao rub off on you?”

Chi Yang ignored the jab. “Has this happened before?”

“What do you mean?” Chi Qing bit into the apple, watching her closely. “You know I coughed up blood?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Chi Yang kept her voice steady, but her reddened eyes betrayed how hard it was for her to hold it together.

“It was only that once. Never before.” Chi Qing’s gaze dropped to the bitten apple, her expression dimming.

When she had first arrived in this world, she had wanted nothing to do with the Chi family mess. She had only been a college student then, naïve and unprepared for the burdens suddenly thrust upon her. She learned her estranged “mother” had died in a car accident, leaving behind a “sister” with no blood ties, and an entire crumbling corporation waiting to collapse.

Her plan had always been simple: hold on until Chi Yang was grown, then hand everything over and be free. But when Chi Yang finally came of age, she defied her, chasing dreams in the entertainment industry instead.

Chi Qing’s own dreams had long since been scattered to pieces, tied down by invisible chains. Just as she thought she might finally break free, Chi Yang declared she wanted to chase her dreams.

The words had nearly driven her mad.

They fought countless times. They said vicious things to each other—words impossible to take back.

Neither would yield, so they broke apart further and further.

And yet, even so, Chi Qing had never stopped caring. From behind the scenes, she slipped resources to Chi Yang when she entered showbiz.

The company was struggling, surrounded by enemies. Even Chi Yang’s current agent, Qin Hao, had been personally begged by Chi Qing to sign her. To this day, Chi Yang still thought it was Qin Hao’s discerning eye.

For all their arguments, whenever Chi Qing asked something of her, Chi Yang always—begrudgingly—agreed.

Like the recent acquisition deal: she’d pretended it was to avoid attending New Year’s Eve dinner, but truthfully, she would have done it regardless.

Now, with Chi Qing lying here, Chi Yang was bound to feel guilty.

And Chi Qing intended to seize that chance. No one else knew what was truly happening to her, and the hospital would never find a diagnosis.

But deep down, she knew: the borrowed time she had been living on was nearly spent. It would end with the original body’s lifespan.

“Come back to the company and help me,” Chi Qing said bluntly. “Shan Hai has already wrapped. That award is yours for certain. Chi Yang, you can do anything—you’ve already won.”

Chi Yang’s throat tightened. She lowered her head. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ve won too late.”

“Maybe you never needed to prove anything to me,” Chi Qing murmured. “All those things I said back then—it wasn’t because of you. It was because…” She stopped, swallowing the truth. “Because I was selfish. I didn’t want to deal with it. I wanted to dump it all on you.”

Chi Qing knew her sister’s stubborn temperament: never admitting what she wanted, always testing, always dodging, waiting until she was absolutely sure of someone else’s feelings before daring to open up.

That was why she admired Pei Jiuyao so much. In just half a year, she had coaxed Chi Yang into confessing—and even promising that once everything was settled, she would go public with their relationship.

Every time she saw Pei Jiuyao, Chi Qing thought: maybe earning Chi Yang’s trust wasn’t so impossible after all.

All it took was honesty.

But neither she nor Chi Yang had ever managed it. Outsiders said the Chi sisters were alike—but it wasn’t the Chi family blood.

It was the two of them.

Not just Chi Yang who felt it was too late. Chi Qing felt it too.

Eighteen years—and not once had they truly been sisters.

What a shame.

“I’m glad you came back.” Chi Qing reached out to ruffle her hair, smiling faintly.

Chi Yang pressed her lips together, then let out a low laugh. “That expression doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Then what does suit me?”

Chi Yang mimicked her usual icy demeanor.

“You actually wear that look better than I do,” Chi Qing chuckled.

“Hey,” Chi Yang nudged her shoulder, “why do you love apples so much?”

“They’re crisp.” Chi Qing bit down again. “Good for my teeth.”

“Good for your… teeth?” Chi Yang frowned. “That’s a hobby?”

“As an Alpha,” Chi Qing said flatly, “I often feel like biting Chi Ran to death.”

Hearing such words come out of the mouth of an aloof corporate tyrant—

Chi Yang couldn’t help laughing. “You really—”

But midway, she faltered, suddenly realizing: Chi Qing had only been eighteen when she inherited the company. Once, she too might have been a bright, lively girl.

The thought stung.

“You’ve never felt that?” Chi Qing feigned surprise, nudging her. “I thought all Alphas liked to bite.”

“I’m an Omega.” Chi Yang deadpanned.

Chi Qing lowered her voice, feigning embarrassment. “Oh, forgot.”

For once, they sat together without quarreling. They even laughed. For the first time in eighteen years, Chi Yang felt what it meant to have family: someone close, impossible to cut away from.

After the afternoon re-check, they had dinner together and discussed company affairs. By evening, Chi Yang prepared to leave to see Pei Jiuyao—only to find Chi Qing having Shen Xinyi deliver a formal evening gown.

“Where do you think you’re going now?” Chi Yang tossed the garment bag aside. “Can’t you just rest here? Not afraid you’ll cough yourself to death?”

Chi Qing stood, stretching lightly. “You saw Ying Ning’s report. I’m fine. Why stay here if there’s no illness?”

“Then go home and rest.” Chi Yang clutched the dress, refusing to let go.

Chi Qing shot Shen Xinyi a glare, blaming her for choosing this exact moment to bring the dress over.

“Pei Jiuyao is still waiting for you. Shouldn’t you hurry back to keep her company?” Chi Qing reached out to snatch the garment bag. “You’ve locked her up and now you’re not even going back. Be careful she doesn’t run off.”

Chi Yang blocked her path, her expression solemn. “Then at least tell me where you’re going first.”

Chi Qing looked helpless, her tone finally deflating. “I found out that Grandmother’s illegitimate daughter is attending a socialite banquet tonight. I arranged to meet her there. I have to go.”

That illegitimate daughter—the one holding twelve percent of the shares.

Chi Yang’s grip on the dress bag tightened.

“Now, can you step aside?”

As Chi Qing moved to take the dress, Chi Yang once again blocked her way.

“I’ll go in your place.”

Chi Qing gave a short laugh. “Your little girlfriend is still waiting at home. Aren’t you afraid she’ll run away?”

“I can explain it to her—she won’t be angry with me.” Chi Yang lifted the gown from her sister’s hands. “Since I promised to return to the company, I can handle things like this too. Besides, if you show up, Aunt might connect the dots about her identity.”

A dull ache pressed against Chi Qing’s chest; she bent her head and coughed, suppressing the urge to spit blood.

Seeing her in this state, Chi Yang became even more resolute. “You stay here and rest. I’ll have Ying Ning watch you—you’re not allowed to go anywhere. Just wait for Professor Ying’s results.”

Chi Qing sighed in resignation. Her head felt light, and she knew she really wasn’t in any condition to work. She might even ruin things if she forced herself.

“Fine. But be careful. At this kind of banquet, there’s a good chance the Mo family or the Bai family will show up. If you run into them, avoid them. Don’t cause a conflict.”

Chi Yang nodded. “Don’t worry. I know my limits.”

Chi Qing looked at her, a trace of helplessness in her gaze. She hated to let her “little sister” wade into that murky battlefield alone—but this was a road Chi Yang would inevitably have to take.

Sooner or later, she would have to face the fierce rivalries of Haishi’s corporations by herself, carving a bloody path through the Chi family. Chi Qing could only pave part of the way for her, but only this once.

There might not be another time.

At the door, Chi Yang held the gown bag. Just before closing it behind her, she turned back. “I’m going now.”

After a pause, she called softly: “Sister.”

________________________________________

Since Chi Yang had returned the night before, Pei Jiuyao found her absurd, imprisoned life no longer so unbearable. Just sitting on the sofa felt oddly sweet.

Sometimes she’d send Chi Yang a message, asking when she would come home, and the reply was always that the company was in chaos and she was helping Chi Qing deal with matters.

Pei Jiuyao didn’t want to disturb her, so after some thought, she decided to ask on Ying Ning’s behalf what Wen Li had been busy with lately.

When she called, the noise on Wen Li’s end was loud and chaotic.

Pressing the phone tightly to her ear, Pei Jiuyao asked, “Wen-jie, don’t tell me you’re still at the bar drinking?”

“What is it, Jiuyao?” Wen Li’s voice was slow, lazy, tinged with languor.

Pei Jiuyao raised her voice. “What have you been up to lately?”

“Don’t shout,” Wen Li grumbled. “I can hear you just fine.”

Then she added, “No work. Naturally, I’ve just been playing around.”

Her tone was casual, but Pei Jiuyao recognized the signs. The more Wen Li drew out her words, the more she was usually hiding.

To make light of it, Wen Li deliberately dragged her voice even longer: “Don’t worry about me. Once you leave Tianji and escape that hell, Mo Tian will forget me in an instant.”

Pei Jiuyao’s tone grew serious. “Wen-jie, are you short on money?”

Wen Li fell silent for a moment, then chuckled. “I own a house and a car, I’ve worked for years—how could I be short on money? It’s just that I’ve been suspended from work for now.”

It sounded reasonable. Wen Li was a top-tier agent, with a high salary. But Pei Jiuyao also knew her expenses were equally high.

Ying Ning had even mentioned happily that Wen Li had never spent so much time at home before.

That’s why Pei Jiuyao suspected she might actually be strapped for cash.

Still, maybe she was overthinking. Wen Li could simply be idle.

“Then once I terminate my contract, will you still be my agent?” Pei Jiuyao’s voice softened.

Wen Li gave a dry laugh. “Forget it. I’ve been at Tianji too many years. If I quit now, I wouldn’t be able to adjust to a new environment.”

Pei Jiuyao froze. Something felt wrong.

“Then if something’s going on, you should tell me.”

After hanging up, she started reaching out—texting a few artists, agents, and even executives she had added on WeChat before.

Piecing scraps of information together, she discovered that Wen Li apparently owed the company a large sum. She had even sold her house.

A senior she had been close with whispered that Wen Li seemed to be paying breach-of-contract penalties.

But she hadn’t quit—where would breach penalties come from? Even if she did quit, it wasn’t her responsibility.