After Transmigrating into a Scummy Alpha, I Became a Tool Person - Chapter 8

Knock, knock.

Xie Yinian was sketching on her digital tablet when she heard a knock at the door. Without looking up, she said, “It’s not locked. Come in.”

Xia Qiqi pushed open the door. Inside, she saw Xie Yinian sitting at her desk, eyes fixed on the computer screen as she carefully drew and colored a character illustration, every movement calm and precise.

She stepped closer. When Xie Yinian turned around and saw her, she froze for a second.

“You’re drawing?” Xia Qiqi asked, her gaze falling on the sketch and the small pen tablet in Xie Yinian’s hands.

Xie Yinian gave an awkward nod. “Mm, yeah.”

Xia Qiqi leaned in to take a better look. “It’s pretty good. Looks really nice.”

She hadn’t expected Xie Yinian to have this kind of skill.

“Thanks,” Xie Yinian replied, a little embarrassed.

“Lunch’s ready,” Xia Qiqi said evenly. “You can finish it later.”

“Okay.”

Xie Yinian packed up her tablet and followed Xia Qiqi downstairs.

At the dining table, the air purifier hummed softly, filtering out Xia Qiqi’s pheromones—so thoroughly that Xie Yinian couldn’t smell a thing.

For someone like her—a transmigrator who’d never been attracted to women—it simply didn’t occur to her that Alphas and Omegas were, in this world, two fundamentally different kinds of beings.

To her, Xia Qiqi was just a housemate, maybe even like a sister. Even when she occasionally caught a faint trace of pheromone that made her body feel odd, she pushed it down without thinking too much about it.

She reached out for a bowl, ladling soup from the large dish in the center. But when her fingers brushed against Xia Qiqi’s hand as the latter reached in for a dish, she startled—her hand jerked, and the hot soup spilled all over it.

“Ah!” Xie Yinian hissed, quickly pulling her hand back in pain.

Xia Qiqi’s eyes widened. She immediately stood and came over, grasping Xie Yinian’s hand to inspect it. The skin on the back of her hand had already turned red. Xia Qiqi frowned. “How can you be this careless?”

Her tone sounded scolding, but the concern behind it was unmistakable.

Was this worry? Xia Qiqi was worried about her?

Xie Yinian blinked, caught off guard. “It’s fine, really. The soup wasn’t that hot.”

“Go wash it—now.” Without waiting for her to protest, Xia Qiqi pushed her toward the kitchen sink.

Xie Yinian turned on the faucet, rinsing her hand under cool water. Once the sink was full, she let her hand soak in the basin.

“Does it still hurt?” Xia Qiqi asked.

“It’s better,” she said. “Doesn’t sting as much anymore.”

“I’ve got some burn ointment in my room. Wait here,” Xia Qiqi said, and left.

As soon as she was gone, Xie Yinian lowered her head, watching her hand in the water. That brief moment flashed in her mind again—Xia Qiqi’s worried expression, her gentle grip.

Her chest warmed. She hadn’t thought Xia Qiqi was capable of caring about her like that. She had assumed they were just partners on paper. Maybe, maybe their relationship had taken a small step forward? Could she even call this friendship?

A quiet smile tugged at her lips.

When Xia Qiqi came back, she was holding a tube of ointment. “Take your hand out.”

Xie Yinian did as told. Xia Qiqi took a clean towel, carefully drying her hand before squeezing out a bit of the ointment and gently spreading it across the reddened skin.

The cool, slick touch of the cream mixed with the warmth of Xia Qiqi’s slender fingers massaging her skin made Xie Yinian’s face instantly flush red.

“How is it? Still hurt?” Xia Qiqi asked, looking up, their eyes meeting.

“N-not really,” Xie Yinian stammered, her voice barely steady.

That meant it still hurt. Xia Qiqi continued patiently, applying the ointment between her fingers and along every crease. After all, the soup had been boiling—if not treated properly, it could easily blister.

But the longer it went on, the stranger Xie Yinian felt. Her heartbeat sped up. The warmth spreading up her arm wasn’t from the burn—it was something else entirely. She quickly pulled her hand back, flustered. “I—I can do it myself.”

Xia Qiqi gave her a puzzled look. Why the sudden change? Did she dislike being touched? Thinking that might be the case, she withdrew her hands calmly. “Alright.”

Once she finished applying the ointment, Xie Yinian returned to the table.

Just as she sat down, a phone started ringing—not hers, but Xia Qiqi’s.

“Hello?”

Her expression, calm at first, gradually hardened. She stood up and walked outside to take the call. Even through the glass door, Xie Yinian could hear the icy tone in her voice—and the rising argument on the other end.

“I’m not coming back,” Xia Qiqi said coldly. “And I won’t apologize to Mother. I didn’t do anything wrong!”

On the other side, her father’s voice was sharp with anger. “You drove your mother into that state, and you say you’re not wrong? This entire mess is your fault! I’m giving you one last chance—will you apologize or not?”

“I’m not wrong,” Xia Qiqi repeated firmly. “No matter how many times you say it, I won’t change my mind.”

Her father’s tone turned dark. “Remember your words, Qiqi. Don’t regret this later.”

The call ended abruptly.

Xia Qiqi slipped her phone back into her pocket and walked inside again, her face expressionless. Regret? What was there to regret? She truly didn’t believe she’d done anything wrong.

Xie Yinian didn’t ask what the call had been about. She quietly sipped her soup, the sound of the spoon tapping against the bowl filling the silence.

Xia Qiqi sat down and ladled herself a bowl as well. She blew gently on the steaming broth before taking a sip.

Just then, Xie Yinian placed a small plate in front of her, the fish already deboned. She grinned. “Here, try this. Aunt Jiang said this kind of fish doesn’t have many bones, and they’re easy to remove. The meat’s really tender.”

Xia Qiqi took a bite, nodded approvingly. “It’s good.”

“Right? I told you,” Xie Yinian said with a pleased smile.

After a few more bites, Xia Qiqi noticed that Xie Yinian’s plate was empty of fish. “You’re not eating any?”

“I don’t like fish.”

“You don’t like fish?”

“Well,” Xie Yinian hesitated. “It’s more like, I’m afraid of them.”

“Afraid?” Xia Qiqi raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. They look kind of creepy—slimy skin, dark eyes, like snakes. When I was a kid, the adults tricked me into eating one. Once I found out, I threw up all night.” Xie Yinian’s voice dropped sheepishly.

Xia Qiqi pressed her lips together to hide a smile. “You’re actually kind of cute.”

Xie Yinian’s cheeks turned pink. She instantly regretted sharing that childhood story.

As they ate, Xia Qiqi suddenly asked, “Does your family know you’re married?”

Xie Yinian shook her head. “Not yet.”

“So, you’re planning to hide it from them?”

“No, not hide. I just haven’t figured out how to tell them yet,” she admitted.

“I see.”

After a brief pause, Xie Yinian looked at her curiously. “Then why did you choose to marry me, President Xia?”

Xia Qiqi smiled faintly. “Maybe because it was fate.”

For a moment, Xie Yinian just stared at her. It was only a fleeting smile, but in that instant—it was as if the ice around Xia Qiqi’s heart had finally cracked.

She smiled. And that smile was breathtaking.

She, she actually smiled?