After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine - Chapter 68.1

In the end, Chi Yang never fully explained things to Pei Jiuyao.

Thinking back to how carefully Pei Jiuyao had treated her, Chi Yang found herself growing greedy—wanting just a little more.

So, she kept thinking. Just tell her later. A bit later, even if it’s just one more day.

When Pei Jiuyao woke up the next day, she felt like her bones had completely fallen apart. One glance in the mirror, and she looked like a ghost crawling out from a wasteland.

She shuffled out to pour herself a glass of water, and when she walked past Ding Yinghan with the cup in hand, she scared her half to death.

“Jiuyao, did you go grave-robbing last night?”

Pei Jiuyao warmed her throat with a sip of hot water and sighed. “So not even one tomb raider feels tempted to whisk me away?”

Filming a variety show was basically a test of physical endurance. At first, everyone could still wake up early, eat breakfast, maybe go for a jog. But later, if there was no required schedule, everyone simply caught up on sleep.

By the time the group was awake, it was nearly noon.

Ding Yinghan rummaged through the fridge only to discover there was barely any food stocked. So, the group drew lots to decide which room would be sent out to buy supplies.

And of course, the “lucky winners” who drew the grocery run were Pei Jiuyao and Chi Yang.

Pei Jiuyao looked up at Chi Yang—only to meet the edge of her gaze before instantly dodging away and lowering her head again.

Daytime was so long! Why couldn’t the world stay nighttime forever?

Knowing she couldn’t avoid it this time, Pei Jiuyao braced herself and headed out with Chi Yang.

At the supermarket, Pei Jiuyao handled the shopping list while Chi Yang wandered the aisles.

The CEO hadn’t set foot in a supermarket in years, so everything felt new to her.

She picked up a bag of Pop Rocks and held it to her face, curious. “What’s this?”

“Pop Rocks. You put them in your mouth and they’ll dance on your tongue,” Pei Jiuyao explained.

Chi Yang’s eyes lit up. “That’s amazing! I want to try it.”

Pei Jiuyao remembered Ding Yinghan’s repeated warnings before they left—absolutely no buying random snacks, only actual groceries.

But it was just one bag of Pop Rocks.

She sneaked a glance at Chi Yang’s shimmering eyes.

Oh no. Critical hit. Instant guilt, overwhelming guilt, crushing guilt.

Pei Jiuyao waved her hand grandly. “Buy it.”

When they checked out, the expenses had gone way over budget.

Chi Yang discreetly separated out her snacks and paid for them with the money she had hidden away. The show crew saw it happen but simply let it go.

On the walk back, they passed a large bridge.

Pei Jiuyao carried two plastic bags. Chi Yang walked beside her, offering repeatedly to take one, but Pei Jiuyao refused every time.

They walked a little further and noticed a street band performing nearby. Chi Yang was drawn in and went over to listen.

Pei Jiuyao stood beside her, holding the bags in one hand. When the river breeze swept by, she used her free hand to press down the hem of Chi Yang’s clothes, smoothing her wind-tossed hair.

When the song ended and they walked away, Chi Yang asked softly, “Yaoyao, can we hold hands?”

Pei Jiuyao paused mid-motion, the hand that was about to switch the bags freezing before she let it fall again.

She didn’t think she deserved to touch Chi Yang right now. But Chi Yang said, “I want to hold hands.”

And Pei Jiuyao could never refuse that. Full of guilt, she slowed her steps and lightly brushed her fingers against Chi Yang’s. Chi Yang immediately intertwined their fingers, clasping tightly.

Walking down from the bridge, the wind roared from the direction of the river, rushing past their ears.

Chi Yang tilted her face into the breeze and asked, “Yaoyao, remember the first time we were on a variety show? You sang me that song?”

Pei Jiuyao hummed in acknowledgment.

Chi Yang continued, “Looking back now, that was the moment I first realized I was falling in love with you. I don’t know why, but that song felt carved into my memory—like it struck all my emotions at once. So even when I thought you’d lied to me, I still couldn’t help getting close. Couldn’t help letting you bully me.

Chi Yang tightened her grip a little. “What about you? When did you fall in love with me?”

Maybe it was the perfect chance—this rare moment when Pei Jiuyao wasn’t cold, wasn’t avoiding her, when she would answer anything asked of her.

Chi Yang wanted to know. Truly know.

After a quiet pause, Pei Jiuyao answered, “Maybe in my last life.”

Chi Yang laughed softly, then added, “Maybe it really was a past life. The moment you woke up back then, the first thing you said was that you liked me.”

Woke up? Chi Yang hesitated. It seemed she had unconsciously separated the Pei Jiuyao who spent that one night with her from the “scumbag” version who came before.

“Maybe it’s because I owed you,” Pei Jiuyao replied, “so I had to say it.”

Chi Yang squeezed her fingers and leaned closer. “You’ve never owed me anything. And if either of us is in debt, then it’s definitely me who owes you more.”

Pei Jiuyao’s hand trembled. She stopped walking. “And if I do owe you something?”

The wind roaring past them suddenly seemed to freeze. Chi Yang could almost see time ripple between them.

“What is it?” she asked, smiling lightly, unconcerned.

She remembered Pei Jiuyao saying when she left—I am an honest and trustworthy person.

Chi Yang really was curious. When would Pei Jiuyao tell her? In what way would she bring up that matter?

Even if it was all just her own imagination.

She still looked forward to the moment. To what that scene might be like.

Or perhaps, Pei Jiuyao would never say it at all.

“Nothing.” Pei Jiuyao pressed her lips together again.

She’d promised to “live one more day,” but technically, it hadn’t even been a full day yet.

Chi Yang felt a faint pang of disappointment.

Was Pei Jiuyao really incapable of saying it? Even if the words weren’t real, even if—

“Let’s go back. The others are probably waiting.” Pei Jiuyao took Chi Yang’s hand again, and the two walked side by side toward the villa.

Inside the villa.

Ding Yinghan was unloading everything Pei Jiuyao had bought and stuffing it into the refrigerator one by one.

At the very end, she held up a red plastic bag. “What’s this?”

Pei Jiuyao rubbed the tip of her nose. “Pop rocks. Chi Yang’s never tried them and wanted to taste.”

“And this?” Ding Yinghan lifted a pink box.

Pei Jiuyao’s voice wavered. “Chocolate. Chi Yang wanted to compare it with our brand—try a competitor’s product.”

“And this?” Ding Yinghan pinched the corner of a transparent bag like it was contaminated.

Pei Jiuyao muttered, barely audible, “Spicy sticks. Chi Yang said she’s never seen them before.”

“This!” Ding Yinghan slapped a paper cylinder onto the table.

“Oh, that goes in the freezer too.” Pei Jiuyao reached over instinctively, but the glare she received made her hand shrink back. “Ice cream. Chi Yang likes it.”

Ding Yinghan nearly laughed from sheer exasperation. “Sister Jiuyao, can I say I want abalone? Will you buy it for me too?”

Pei Jiuyao froze for a second. “Then I’ll go now.”

“Stop right there!” Ding Yinghan pressed a hand to her forehead. “I should never have let you handle the grocery run. Pei Jiuyao, your ears are way too soft!”

Chi Yang came out after washing her hands and, seeing the standoff, rushed over to loop her arms around Ding Yinghan’s to defend Pei Jiuyao. “Yinghan, the snacks were bought with my secret stash, okay? Not from the team funds.”

Ding Yinghan tapped Chi Yang’s forehead lightly. “Secret stash or not, absolutely not allowed. You two will ruin the group’s discipline. There’s no way we can finish all this before we leave. Next time, no more.”

Chi Yang’s eyes curved in a smile. “There definitely won’t be a next time!”

Only because Pei Jiuyao had been so ridiculously sweet today—Chi Yang simply couldn’t stop herself. She just wanted to test how far this little puppy’s bottom line went.

Who knew she had no bottom line at all? Completely obedient.

Thinking of how cold Pei Jiuyao had been not long ago, Chi Yang let out a small sigh.

A limited-edition, guilt-ridden puppy like this was truly rare.

Her mood stayed good through dinner. Even when Su Yin tried several times to lean in and interact with Pei Jiuyao for the cameras, Chi Yang simply smiled it off.

After the meal, the director announced that renowned domestic racer Jiang Feng was currently competing in City A, and they could go to the racetrack for a hands-on experience.

When the group arrived, an Omega in a bright red racing suit was waiting at the entrance—hair neatly tied back, helmet tucked in her arms. She waved at everyone in greeting.

Before entering the track, they changed into racing gear. When Pei Jiuyao came out hugging her helmet, Chi Yang was already changed, placing her own helmet aside and tying up her hair.

The suit outlined her figure perfectly—narrow back, slim waist, curves in all the right places. The red complemented her complexion beautifully.

After tying her hair, Chi Yang grabbed the helmet, flipped it back with a sharp motion—cool, sleek, and dazzling even from behind.

She stared off into the distance for a few seconds. When she turned around and saw Pei Jiuyao watching her from not far away, she lifted the corner of her lips in a teasing curve.

A beam of light fell directly on her, making her shine like a flame. The wind lifted the fine strands of hair by her ear, swaying all the way to the flushed cartilage—her skin so delicate that faint veins showed beneath.

She walked over and patted Pei Jiuyao’s shoulder. “You look great, Xiao Pei.”

Pei Jiuyao glanced back at her. Chi Yang’s soft red lips were slightly parted, revealing the tiny, white, animal-like tips of her teeth. The suit’s tight snaps traced from her collarbone down her chest and into the flat plane of her abdomen.

Pei Jiuyao swallowed unconsciously before replying, “You too.”

“I remember someone telling me she knows how to race,” Chi Yang raised a brow, “so, will I get to see the real thing today?”

Pei Jiuyao instantly recalled her humiliating first-time-stalling-at-start incident. She pressed her palm lightly on top of Chi Yang’s head and smiled. “We’ll see.”

The program team arranged for several coaches and professional racers to accompany them. Jiang Feng casually chose a car—and ended up in Pei Jiuyao’s passenger seat.

Pei Jiuyao buckled her seatbelt, eased forward for a feel of the controls, then asked, “I heard you just won a championship?”

Sitting quietly in the passenger seat, Jiang Feng watched her for a few moments. Seeing her steady hands, she finally answered, “Mm. Last endurance race—Ferrari defended the title.”

“So humble?” Pei Jiuyao chuckled. “Wasn’t it you?”

“You could say that.”

“How many championships have you won?”

“Fifteen.” Jiang Feng’s tone was calm and deep.

“Fifteen?” Pei Jiuyao glanced at her in genuine surprise—only to hear, “Eyes on the road.”

She snapped forward again.

“Have you played with racing before?” Jiang Feng phrased it pointedly—she didn’t say “driven,” which made it clear she didn’t consider Pei Jiuyao’s skill anywhere near professional.

Pei Jiuyao nodded, expecting a critique.

But after one lap, Jiang Feng simply got out, leaned against the car, and declared, “We have a professional driver here.”

“Hey, we have someone great too!”

Pei Jiuyao turned toward the voice—only to realize it came from Chi Yang’s coach.

She took off her helmet. From across the distance, she and Chi Yang locked eyes—steady, silent, several seconds long.

Chi Yang.

No wonder back in Ithaca, Zhu Qiao would rather let Chi Yang drive than hand her the keys.

This fox had far more hidden than she’d ever let on.

Jiang Feng turned around, leaned against the race car, and raised a brow. “Your entertainment industry really hides talents. No wonder people online keep complaining about bad films—everyone’s spending their time on other hobbies.”

“She’s a Grand Slam Best Actress.” Pei Jiuyao lowered her gaze slightly to meet Jiang Feng’s eyes.

A flicker of surprise passed through Jiang Feng’s pupils, then she clapped. “Impressive.”

Chi Yang walked over. “So? Jiuyao, want to race?”

“Sure,” Pei Jiuyao replied softly. “How do you want to compete?”

“Simple F1 rules. No pit stops, no tire changes. Two laps. First to finish wins.”

Pei Jiuyao nodded. “Okay.”

Jiang Feng watched them with interest and raised her hand. “Then I’ll be the—”

Jiang Feng looked over at Pei Jiuyao.

“Pei Jiuyao,” she replied.

“Then I’m choosing Pei Jiuyao as my strategist.” Jiang Feng shifted her gaze to Chi Yang. “Award-winning film queen, do you want your coach as your strategist, or are you picking another driver?”