I Heard I’m a Scummy Alpha? [Transmigration] - Chapter 54

By the time it wasn’t even eight o’clock, the two of them had already gone back to the bedroom to rest.

Yan Zui was physically exhausted after an entire day, yet her mind wouldn’t quiet down. She kept replaying the day’s events—how Qi Yunwei had pretended to kiss her and startled her, how Qiao Haiyue had taken far too many days off.

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess. When she finally picked up her phone, it was already past nine.

Given Qi Yunwei’s sleeping habits, she was probably fast asleep by now.

Yan Zui tried to force herself to sleep but failed. Giving up, she got out of bed, opened the balcony door, and stepped outside.

The night breeze lifted her long hair as she settled into a chair, gazing at the moon.

Veiled in a thin haze, the moonlight seemed swallowed by the darkness of the sea, leaving only a frosty patch of white on the ground at Yan Zui’s feet.

All was still. Even the waves lapped quietly. Yan Zui sat there the entire night, half-asleep, half-awake, until she suddenly opened her eyes just before sunrise. She rushed back to the bedroom for her camera and captured the moment the sun rose over the horizon.

When Qi Yunwei came down for breakfast in the morning and sat across from her, she noticed the deeper shadows beneath Yan Zui’s eyes.

“You didn’t sleep again last night?” Qi Yunwei frowned.

Yan Zui leaned limply against the back of her chair, her voice faint: “I don’t even remember.”

The butler served breakfast, but Yan Zui didn’t take a single bite.

Qi Yunwei grew worried. This won’t do. We came here to rest, yet Yan Zui is sleeping worse than ever.

She herself had little appetite and only picked at a few bites before saying, “Tonight, I’ll keep watch until you fall asleep.”

Yan Zui gave a lazy laugh. “Will that even help?”

“You won’t know until you try.” If Yan Zui couldn’t get some proper rest, there was no point in continuing the trip—they should just return home to recuperate.

Yan Zui’s lips curved faintly, but she said nothing more.

The first night of sleeplessness had left her with enough energy to take photos and go swimming, but today she was utterly drained. Still, she didn’t want to stay cooped up inside. She asked Qi Yunwei to help carry her easel down to the beach so she could paint the crashing white waves.

When Qi Yunwei fetched the easel, she noticed Yan Zui’s camera lying nearby and picked it up as well.

While Yan Zui painted, Qi Yunwei took photos—sometimes of the waves on the canvas, sometimes of Yan Zui herself.

Both were beautiful.

Flipping through the pictures afterward, Qi Yunwei accidentally came across the sunrise shot. Surprised, she walked over. “Did you stay up all night? How were you awake that early in the morning?”

Yan Zui added a crest of foam onto the painted waves without turning her head. “Maybe I didn’t sleep. Or maybe I just happened to wake up at sunrise.”

Qi Yunwei’s expression grew serious.

No matter what, she has to sleep today.

After lunch, she set up a parasol so Yan Zui could continue painting. When she glanced up, she caught Qiao Haiyue peeking over, clearly wanting to come closer. Qi Yunwei ignored her.

By three in the afternoon, Yan Zui finally put down her brush with a sigh of relief. She stood, turned, and was startled. “You’ve been here this whole time?”

Qi Yunwei smiled. “The scenery is beautiful. Watching it for an entire afternoon still doesn’t feel enough.”

But in truth, it wasn’t the sea that held her attention—it was Yan Zui herself. Watching her paint so intently, Qi Yunwei had lost herself more than once.

“Come on, let’s go back to the villa and cool off.” Qi Yunwei rose to her feet.

The painting still needed to dry, so they left it there for now. Yan Zui picked up her muted phone and, upon turning it on, found a string of messages from Qiao Haiyue.

She still hadn’t received notice about work resuming tomorrow. Her words brimmed with excitement about watching Legend of Boling that night.

Yan Zui: Sorry, I was focused on painting this afternoon and had my phone on silent. I didn’t see your messages.

Qiao Haiyue: No problem! I’ve already set up the projector and screen. Why don’t you come over for dinner? I made lots of Qiuhai dishes. After we eat, it’ll be dark, perfect for watching Legend of Boling!

Yan Zui thought for a moment. Before she got the call about resuming filming, she should at least grant Qiao Haiyue this small wish, to soften tomorrow’s inevitable disappointment.

Yan Zui: Sure. Qi Yunwei and I will come by later.

Qiao Haiyue’s emotions tangled as she read the reply.

On the one hand, she was delighted Yan Zui had addressed Qi Yunwei by name. On the other hand, she was furious—Qi Yunwei was ruining her chance for time alone with Yan Zui.

If not for Qi Yunwei, she and Yan Zui could have spent the evening together—watching Boling by the waves, drinking a little wine, and maybe, if the mood was right, something romantic might have happened.

Now it was all spoiled.

Around six o’clock, Yan Zui and Qi Yunwei changed clothes and went to Qiao Haiyue’s villa.

Dinner was decent, though Qi Yunwei thought it paled compared to Xiao Jiu’s cooking. At least Yan Zui wouldn’t be won over by her food.

But Yan Zui was disarmed by her coquettishness.

“Yan Zui, try this one—I think it’s the best dish I made today.” Qiao Haiyue’s amber eyes sparkled with anticipation as she watched her.

Yan Zui took a bite and nodded. “It’s good.”

Qi Yunwei: “…” She had just tasted it herself—it was painfully average. Clearly, the fan filter had already clouded Yan Zui’s sense of taste.

How can I stop her from being swayed by Qiao Haiyue’s act?

Qi Yunwei hesitated, then suddenly pointed to the dish furthest from her. “Yan Zui, I like that one. Get some for me?”

Her tone carried a spoiled note tinged with jealousy. As expected, Yan Zui obediently reached over and served her.

Qiao Haiyue shot Qi Yunwei a glare.

Shameless. You don’t even look like an Omega, yet you’re trying to act like one.

Qi Yunwei pretended not to notice, accepted the dish from Yan Zui, and said, “Thanks.”

Yan Zui glanced at her, a fleeting smile flickering in her eyes. “You’re welcome.”

Qiao Haiyue couldn’t bear to watch them gaze at each other so tenderly in her presence, so she hurried to find another excuse to drag Yan Zui’s attention back to herself.

The whole meal became a back-and-forth tug-of-war, with Yan Zui playing the perfect “peacemaker,” keeping both sides from feeling neglected.

At last, dinner ended. The villa’s soft amber lights glowed as night fell completely.

The three of them moved to the setup Qiao Haiyue had prepared: a huge white screen with three chairs arranged in front of it. Two were side by side, while the third had been set slightly apart.

Her intentions were impossible to miss.

Not that she even tried to hide them.

And Yan Zui seemed to fall right into her game.

“Yan Zui, let’s sit here!” Qiao Haiyue tried to lead her toward the two adjacent chairs.

Trailing behind them, Qi Yunwei thought grimly, Great, Yan Zui’s about to be tricked away by Qiao Haiyue.

But then Yan Zui pointed toward the lone chair set aside. “Haiyue, why don’t you sit there?”

Qiao Haiyue’s smile faltered. Her lips pouted in mock hurt. “Why? Don’t you want me near you?”

“Of course not,” Yan Zui said. “If you sit too close, I can’t see you properly. But if you’re over there, I can just lift my eyes while watching Boling and catch sight of you.”

Realizing Yan Zui had done it so she could look at her, Qiao Haiyue’s mood improved.

“But while you’re watching, would you even notice me?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be focused on the show?”

“I want to see you while I’m watching,” Yan Zui replied.

Qi Yunwei suspected she really wanted to watch Qiao Haiyue and Peng Xueyu being all lovey-dovey on screen.

But Qiao Haiyue didn’t think that far. She simply assumed Yan Zui liked looking at her. Triumphant, she cast Qi Yunwei a smug smile before happily taking the chair off to the side.

Qi Yunwei and Yan Zui sat down together.

Qiao Haiyue turned her head and asked, “Yan Zui, what episode are you on now?”

Yan Zui replied, “Episode twenty-three.”

That was the latest one available to VIP members.

So Yan Zui really did enjoy watching Legend of Boling.

Qiao Haiyue brightened and clicked on episode twenty-four.

On the massive screen, the drama began to play. Qiao Haiyue noticed that Yan Zui was watching with great focus, especially whenever Boling-jun and Peng Xueyu, who played the emperor, appeared together. Yan Zui’s eyes would light up, and she would even glance at Qiao Haiyue with a smile.

To make sure Yan Zui was truly watching because of her, Qiao Haiyue kept stealing glances during the episode. Every so often, Yan Zui really did look her way. Qiao Haiyue straightened her posture, deliberately turning her most flattering side profile toward Yan Zui, thinking smugly to herself: So what if Qi Yunwei is sitting closer? Yan Zui’s eyes are split between the screen and me. She hasn’t looked at her even once.

Qi Yunwei watched for a while and had to admit that Qiao Haiyue’s acting was good. She wasn’t even of the Dikun clan, yet she portrayed the character so vividly that several powerful Tian Gan fell hopelessly in love with her on-screen. It didn’t feel out of place at all.

No wonder she managed to fool Yan Zui.

But mixing up a role with real life was a dangerous game.

Leaning closer, Qi Yunwei whispered to Yan Zui, “Boling-jun is Boling-jun, and Qiao Haiyue is Qiao Haiyue. Don’t confuse the two—Qiao Haiyue is an Alpha.”

Yan Zui answered, “Even if she’s an Alpha, Haiyue is still adorable. A different kind of adorable than Boling-jun.”

Her tone grew more animated. “Actually, I think Haiyue and Peng Xueyu are even better together in real life. One’s a spoiled, playful little diva, the other’s calm, steady, and tolerant. They’re a perfect match. And at least they’re not as tragic as in the drama.”

Watching her, Qi Yunwei realized Yan Zui had completely fallen for the Haiyue Xueyu CP.

“Haiyue just has a cameo in an upcoming film,” Yan Zui added. “The next drama hasn’t been set yet, but I’ll have them arrange a variety show soon. That way, we can watch their relationship grow on-screen.”

Qi Yunwei couldn’t help but admire her. So this is what it means to be a CEO fangirl—if the conditions aren’t there, she’ll create them.

“CP fans will worship you,” Qi Yunwei remarked. “You’re making their dreams come true.”

Yan Zui gave a modest little shrug. “It’s not that great. I’m just making money—and indulging myself a little along the way.”

By the second half of the episode, Qiao Haiyue noticed that Yan Zui wasn’t looking at her anymore. Worse, she had started whispering with Qi Yunwei—and laughing with her!

Qiao Haiyue couldn’t stand it and deliberately coughed. “Cough!”

The exaggerated sound worked; Yan Zui immediately looked her way.

“Are you cold, Haiyue?” she asked with concern. “The night breeze is chilly. Put on a jacket.”

Qiao Haiyue shook her head. “I’m fine.” But she followed it with two deliberately weak coughs.

Yan Zui frowned, stood, and draped her own jacket over Qiao Haiyue. “Wear this. Don’t catch a cold.”

From her seat, Qi Yunwei watched as Qiao Haiyue put on Yan Zui’s jacket and then shot her a triumphant look.

When Yan Zui sat back down, Qi Yunwei muttered, “This Alpha is even more delicate than I am.”

“I’m just worried she’ll use a cold as an excuse to skip work,” Yan Zui explained. “Her joint livestream with Peng Xueyu can’t afford any mishaps.”

Qi Yunwei thought: If Qiao Haiyue knew what Yan Zui was really thinking, she’d probably cough up blood from rage.

The three of them watched until after ten. Remembering that Qiao Haiyue had work the next morning, Yan Zui stood up and said, “Let’s stop here for today.”

Qiao Haiyue didn’t want to binge everything at once anyway—if she did, she’d run out of excuses to keep inviting Yan Zui over.

“Alright,” she agreed, walking over. In the dim light, her face looked ethereal, almost dreamlike.

Yan Zui was just thinking that even Peng Xueyu would fall head over heels at such a sight when Qiao Haiyue asked softly, “Yan Zui, would you like to come inside the villa for a drink?”

Yan Zui patted her shoulder before she could smile too brightly and said, “You’re flying back for work tomorrow. Rest early tonight.”

Qiao Haiyue blinked. “But my vacation isn’t over—I don’t have work tomorrow.”

“It was arranged last-minute. Your agent probably hasn’t told you yet.”

Qiao Haiyue doubted it, but Yan Zui was the boss. She had no reason to lie.

Still, Yan Zui usually didn’t involve herself in the film company’s business. How did she know about her sudden schedule?

Could it be, that Yan Zui had been secretly keeping tabs on her?

Just like their “coincidental” meeting at the beach. Qiao Haiyue hadn’t known Yan Zui would be there—yet somehow, she was.

She must have asked about my itinerary on purpose. She came here to see me.

Her heart swelling, Qiao Haiyue said sweetly, “Alright, I’ll head back and rest then.”

“Do well at work tomorrow,” Yan Zui told her. “I’ll be watching.”

“I will. I’ll work hard!” Qiao Haiyue thought giddily. She really cares about me.

It felt like a dream as she drifted back to the villa wrapped in Yan Zui’s jacket.

“Come on,” Qi Yunwei tugged Yan Zui’s wrist gently. Her skin was a little cool, so Qi Yunwei draped her own coat over her shoulders. “Didn’t you promise I could watch over you tonight?”

They returned to their villa, washed up, and then Qi Yunwei knocked on Yan Zui’s door.

The two bedrooms were laid out the same. Yan Zui sat on the bed waiting, looking like a bride from ancient times, awaiting the groom to lift her veil.

“Lie down and sleep. I’ll stay here and watch,” Qi Yunwei said, pulling a chair to the bedside.

Yan Zui lay down and opened her eyes again. Qi Yunwei smiled gently. “I’ll leave once you’re asleep.”

Yan Zui: “…”

This was not what I had in mind.

How could anyone fall asleep being stared at like that?

Why can’t this block of wood just hold me? If she did, I’d be out in minutes.

Yan Zui closed her eyes. Her senses heightened, her lashes trembling faintly with each breath.

Time dragged on, her body growing stiff.

At last, Qi Yunwei touched her long lashes with a fingertip. “Still can’t sleep?” she asked softly.

Yan Zui opened her eyes. Her dark irises were clear and cool, showing no hint of drowsiness.

If she’d just stop staring, maybe I could doze off.

“You should go rest,” Yan Zui murmured. “If I lie here alone, I’ll manage. With you watching, I can’t.”

Since staying would do no good, Qi Yunwei could only leave.

The next morning at breakfast, she saw that Yan Zui looked no better. “If you can’t sleep again tonight,” she said, “we’ll head back tomorrow.”

Yan Zui thought: If you’d only cooperated last night, I’d have slept like a baby.

Aloud, she said, “Let’s wait and see. No need to rush.”

The sky was already overcast. After breakfast, Qi Yunwei checked on Qiao Haiyue’s villa. The things on the beach were gone—she’d likely flown out for work.

By noon the clouds had thickened, though it still hadn’t rained.

The butler warned that thunderstorms could break out at any time that afternoon.

So the two stayed in, each doing their own thing in the living room.

Scrolling Weibo, Yan Zui said, “Qiao Haiyue and Peng Xueyu’s livestream starts at two.”

“It’s about that time,” Qi Yunwei replied, switching on the TV. “Let’s cast it there. I’ll watch too.”

She was curious just how “shippable” they really were.

The livestream began. Yan Zui’s eyes stayed fixed on the screen. The start was just routine: host questions, lighthearted answers, some behind-the-scenes anecdotes, and a bit of playful banter.

During the break, Yan Zui seized the chance to scroll Weibo.

Qi Yunwei peeked at a fan account’s “analysis.” According to them, when the two Alphas awkwardly hugged, it was a tender reunion of lovers overwhelmed with emotion.

When they sat in silence with nothing to say, it was sweet restraint, words unspoken.

When their answers failed to match, it was a couple deliberately hiding their relationship.

And when Peng Xueyu teased Qiao Haiyue about being too busy, while Qiao Haiyue teased back that Peng wasn’t popular enough to understand her schedule, the fans twisted it into a lover’s complaint about neglect and a lover’s reassurance, sacrificing for her career.

Anyone unaware of the truth would think they were watching a fairy-tale romance.

After the livestream ended, Yan Zui said seriously, “A lot of people are complaining that aside from the opening hug, there was too little physical contact. We’ll need to design some segments in the variety show to add more.”

Qi Yunwei thought to herself: The Haiyue Xueyu CP fans don’t know how lucky they are—having Yan Zui on their side is the biggest blessing of all.