How Could a Scumbag Alpha Possibly Love His Wife? - Chapter 47

Cheng Wan felt drained the entire day. It was as if she’d fallen ill—her chest felt heavy, her breathing labored, and even the little one in her belly was quieter than usual.

When it was time to head home, Cheng Wan happened to share part of her subway route with Chang Le, so they entered the station together.

It was rush hour, and the platform was packed. But when people saw Cheng Wan’s heavily pregnant belly, they naturally made way for her. Pregnant Omegas were seen as vulnerable, and special train cars were designated for their rest and comfort.

Cheng Wan and Chang Le entered a subway car and found a two-seater. As more passengers trickled in, the car became crowded.

“So many people,” Chang Le said, glancing around. “Do you want me to go home with you?”

“No need,” Cheng Wan replied with a faint smile, her gaze lowered. “I used to take this line all the time. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, but be careful,” Chang Le said, looking at her suspiciously. “Why are you suddenly going back to your parents’ place anyway? Is it because Miss Bai’s not around and you’re bored?”

Cheng Wan wasn’t sure how to respond. She simply said, “My parents asked me to come home for dinner.”

“Ah, makes sense. What parents wouldn’t want to see their kid?” Chang Le had no idea what Cheng Wan’s family was really like. She assumed they were like her own—loving, warm. She rambled on about her parents and their quirks.

Cheng Wan didn’t interrupt. She didn’t know what to say, so she just listened quietly.

Chang Le got off a few stops earlier. After saying goodbye, Cheng Wan remained on the train for three more stations before exiting.

She walked down streets she knew so well it was like muscle memory—so familiar, she could navigate them blindfolded. She even passed the old deli shops she’d loved as a child. But today, she had no appetite at all.

When she finally reached the front door of her family home, she realized she didn’t have a key. She rang the doorbell.

A voice she didn’t recognize came through the intercom. “Who is it? Who are you looking for?”

Cheng Wan hesitated for a second. “It’s Cheng Wan.”

There was a pause as the person on the other end seemed to consider. After a long while, the door opened to reveal a woman in her thirties. Behind her stood Cheng Qiaoqing, dressed casually in shorts and a T-shirt.

“Well, look who it is,” Cheng Qiaoqing said with a smirk. “If I hadn’t been in the living room watching TV, you might’ve been locked out.”

Cheng Wan ignored the cutting remark and focused on the unfamiliar woman, who was wearing the apron once worn by their longtime housekeeper. She asked, “Where’s Aunty?”

“That stupid woman? I kicked her out,” Cheng Qiaoqing said, slapping her slippers as she walked back to the sofa, clutching a stuffed toy. “You can’t keep the same housekeeper forever—they get lazy and start talking back. I was sick of it.”

She sprawled on the sofa and threw her feet up on the coffee table, clearly in a great mood.

Cheng Wan frowned.

The old housekeeper had worked in the Cheng household for years. She’d even attended parent-teacher meetings for Qiaoqing. Now she’d been fired without a second thought. Cheng Wan felt a pang of sadness.

“Wanwan, you’re here,” Xu He called out as she came down from the second floor. She turned to the new housekeeper and said, “Bring her a glass of water. This is our eldest daughter—she lives away now. When she visits, make sure to greet her properly.”

The new housekeeper nodded, went to the kitchen, and returned with a warm glass of water. “Miss Cheng, please have some water,” she said politely.

Cheng Qiaoqing, still lounging with her legs crossed, snapped, “Put the water down and get out of the way. You’re blocking my drama.”

The woman bowed slightly and shuffled away. The water cup on the table trembled each time Qiaoqing jiggled her leg.

Xu He, as always, ignored her biological daughter’s rude behavior. She sat down and said to Cheng Wan, “Your father will be home soon. We’ll have dinner together, and we need to talk about Bai Juntang.”

Cheng Wan’s head shot up at the mention of Bai Juntang. “Why do you want to talk about her?”

“Are you stupid?” Cheng Qiaoqing said, rolling her eyes. “If not her, who else would they be talking about? You?”

Xu He glanced at her daughter but didn’t reprimand her. She continued, “Your father will explain everything when he gets home. It’s not my place to talk business.”

Cheng Wan didn’t have to come back today. She could’ve easily refused.

But she’d thought about it all day—and in the end, she came.

It was easy to ignore Xu He. But any fallout would affect Bai Juntang.

Cheng Wan knew she was powerless, but she still wanted to ask—what exactly did the Cheng family intend to do?

Cheng Jiajian returned earlier than usual that day. Xu He greeted him with exaggerated enthusiasm, helping him out of his shoes and handing him his things.

“Perfect timing,” she said cheerfully. “The maid just finished dinner. Wanwan’s home too. Didn’t you want to talk to her about some work stuff? Now you can chat over dinner.”

Cheng Jiajian glanced up at Cheng Wan and gave a satisfied grunt. “Since everyone’s here, let’s eat.”

The small square table was covered with dishes. Cheng Wan sat beside Cheng Qiaoqing; Xu He and Cheng Jiajian sat opposite.

“Try this one,” Xu He said warmly, putting food into everyone’s bowls. “The new maid cooks light but tasty meals. The flavor’s pretty good, just like what I used to have growing up.”

Cheng Qiaoqing made a face. “It’s bland and boring. Can’t we get some chili in here? What, are we too poor for salt and spice now?”

Although Cheng Wan had always clashed with Cheng Qiaoqing, she had to admit she couldn’t get used to such bland, flavorless food either.

The young maid looked nervously at Cheng Qiaoqing and said, “I can make something else if you’d like. What would you prefer, miss?”

“Forget it,” Xu He waved her off. “Go eat in the kitchen. We don’t need you here.”

Once the maid had left, Cheng Jiajian finally spoke. “Cheng Wan, you’ve been living in Bai Juntang’s house for a while now. Has she promised you anything?”

“Promised what?” Cheng Wan didn’t understand what he meant.

Xu He clarified from the side, “What your father means is—has Bai Juntang given you any pocket money, or maybe a supplementary credit card or something?”

Cheng Wan understood. They needed money.

“No,” she replied, lowering her head and focusing on a piece of chicken in her bowl. “Bai Juntang hasn’t given me any money.”

Xu He followed up, “Has she at least bought you anything else?”

Cheng Wan shook her head again. While it was true Bai Juntang hadn’t given her cash, she’d never lacked anything.

Aunt Pei had a card with a ¥500,000 limit for groceries, fruit, utilities, even household appliances—she was free to spend as needed, and Bai Juntang never questioned it.

Snacks and drinks were always stocked. And since Cheng Wan had been working for a few years, while her salary wasn’t high, it was still above average. With few expenses, she was actually able to save money while living at Bai Juntang’s house.

But the Cheng family clearly didn’t believe her. Even Cheng Qiaoqing sneered, “I knew Bai Juntang wasn’t as generous as you all say. Rich people are stingy. And what’s she got to do with Cheng Wan anyway? Why would she throw that kind of money at her?”

Cheng Jiajian stared at his adopted daughter. He wasn’t really interested in a few thousand yuan of allowance. What he wanted was to gauge how much Cheng Wan truly meant to Bai Juntang—so that when they met, he could name his price.

But judging from what he was hearing now, Bai Juntang didn’t seem to value her much. That annoyed him.

They’d adopted Cheng Wan back when they had no children of their own. Once Qiaoqing was born, they couldn’t exactly return her. And while raising her hadn’t been particularly burdensome, she had always rubbed him the wrong way.

“Bai Juntang is a calculating woman,” Xu He said to her husband. “She’s not someone an average girl can deal with. If you ask me, we shouldn’t wait any longer. Since Cheng Wan’s already living with her, let’s just go straight to the point and ask for the investment. That project of yours—”

Before she could finish, Cheng Jiajian cut her off impatiently. “Why are you interrupting?”

He turned to Cheng Wan with a look of growing irritation. “Since you clearly can’t get a grip on Bai Juntang, I’m not going to waste any more time trying to get what I need through you. Once she’s back, you’ll bring her to me. I want a face-to-face.”

“She’s the one holding up our project,” he added coldly. “If she’s playing games, then she needs a wake-up call. People like her—raised without a mother—always think they’re too clever for their own good.”

Seeing Cheng Wan sit there silent as a stone only made Cheng Jiajian more agitated.

He’d assumed that, because of her connection to Bai Juntang, they could get some benefits. But things had turned out worse than before. Bai Juntang was now blatantly avoiding him. How could he not be furious?

So he ranted at the dinner table, saying the harshest things he could about Bai Juntang, painting her as cold, manipulative—an outright villain.

He didn’t notice Cheng Wan’s expression had completely changed.

“Dad.”

Cheng Wan raised her eyes to the man sitting across from her. She still remembered the first time she saw him at the orphanage—holding her favorite candy, squatting down and gently coaxing her.

But now, this man seemed like a stranger. A frightening one.

She stared at him and asked, “When you adopted me all those years ago… was it always your plan to use me as a tool someday?”

“What are you saying?”

“If it hadn’t been me, but some other child—would you have treated her the same way?” Her voice was quiet, but her eyes were cold and steady. “When you sent me to Bai Juntang… did you ever stop to consider how I felt about it?”

She placed a hand protectively over her belly and asked the family at the table, “If Cheng Qiaoqing someday differentiates as an Omega, would you send her off to someone’s bed too?”

SMACK—

Cheng Jiajian slapped her hard across the face, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“Cheng Qiaoqing is my daughter,” he said icily. “And what are you? What the hell do you think you are?”

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