I Heard I’m a Scummy Alpha? [Transmigration] - Chapter 90

The publicity campaign for Jinzhao Youjiu was a resounding success—so much so that it shocked other restaurant owners, who had never seen such an unconventional marketing approach before.

Some tried to analyze and replicate Qi Yunwei’s “success model,” only to find it impossible to copy.

First, they didn’t have a popular celebrity as a friend.

Second, they didn’t have the money or the courage to open one hundred and sixty branches all at once.

And third, they couldn’t possibly recruit that many top-tier chefs.

After all, any chef with that kind of skill would rather open their own restaurant than work under someone else.

No one could fathom how Qi Yunwei had managed to gather so many elite chefs under her wing.

The news caused quite a stir online, though the Yan and Qi elders—who rarely used their phones—remained unaware. But Qi Fanghuai and Qi Fangyue were not so oblivious.

Their first thought upon seeing the reports was that Jinzhao Youjiu must have been opened under Yan Zui’s name—she was the real investor and boss, while Qi Yunwei was just the public face.

Watching the internet shower praise on Qi Yunwei made Qi Fangyue seethe with envy, her whole body burning as if consumed by fire.

“She’s a useless nobody who deserves to be looked down on,” she spat. “If it wasn’t for her marriage to Yan Zui, how could she ever have what she has now?”

Chi Fanghuai wasn’t any happier. His company had grown larger and more profitable, and he and Liang Kejue had recently begun developing a new medication. He didn’t care much about how much money restaurants made—but fame was another matter.

And in his mind, if anyone deserved the spotlight, it shouldn’t be Qi Yunwei.

So, the very next day, the tide on social media suddenly shifted.

Where the feeds had once been flooded with organic praise for Jinzhao Youjiu and its capable owner, new posts began to dig into Qi Yunwei’s background.

Months ago, when she appeared on Living with You, some netizens had already tried to dig up dirt on her. But since her fame had been fleeting and she’d vanished from the public eye soon after, no one paid much attention.

This time, however, the simultaneous grand opening of 160 restaurants clearly struck a nerve. People who claimed to “know” Qi Yunwei started coming forward to share what they remembered about her.

“I was Qi Yunwei’s classmate in elementary school. She used to be ugly, dumb, and came from an average family. When I saw her on Living with You, I thought it was just someone with the same name. But after checking others’ posts, turns out it’s really her! Guess differentiating as an Alpha changed everything—she’s not only pretty now but rich too.”

“I’m Qi Yunwei’s brother’s classmate. I remember her brother always talking about her grades—she never passed a test! Compared to her brilliant brother who was always top of the class, you’d never believe they were siblings.”

“I was in the neighboring class during high school. Back then, Qi Yunwei was a total nobody—skinny, sallow, short, and gloomy. Her eyes always seemed calculating. The glamorous woman online looks like a completely different person.”

“I was her classmate for a year in college. You know why only a year? Because she was expelled in her sophomore year for failing every subject. The school wanted her to retake the courses, but she refused, so they kicked her out. A dropout Alpha with no talent—we all thought she’d never recover. Who knew she’d somehow end up on variety shows, get close to celebrities, and open a chain of restaurants? Gotta say, that’s some kind of ‘talent’.”

Though these “acquaintances” claimed to envy her success, every sentence dripped with suspicion: How did her looks change so much? Where did her money come from? How did someone lazy and dim suddenly turn into a business genius?

These doubts quickly sparked endless debate. Some speculated she’d won the lottery. Others guessed she’d had a change of heart after dropping out and started working hard, building connections and transforming her life.

Overall, the discussion remained somewhat positive—people loved a good “fallen-to-risen” story.

That is, until a well-known gossip blogger dropped a bombshell.

@EntertainmentExplosion: Qi Yunwei’s rise is truly “inspirational”—a model story for ambitious Alphas everywhere. We recommend watching but not imitating. [Attached image]

The screenshots detailed how Qi Yunwei had “accidentally” slipped into an elite social event and then “coincidentally” marked a wealthy Omega from a powerful family—thus marrying into riches and securing inheritance rights as the family’s daughter-in-law.

She was portrayed as an opportunistic Alpha who’d seduced her way into the upper class—earning a beautiful wife and a fortune all at once.

“No wonder she confessed to her wife on that show—turns out her wife’s the one funding everything!”

“Never thought I’d see a real-life freeloader Alpha. Eye-opening.”

“Kinda disappointed. I thought she was successful on her own. Guess it was all her wife’s money.”

“Who’s her wife anyway? I feel bad for her. I’m starting to think their ‘accidental marking’ wasn’t an accident at all.”

“That’s terrifying if true. She looked so warm and kind on TV—was it all fake?”

“If I were her wife, I’d file for divorce immediately. Better the pain of unbinding pheromones than sharing a bed with a manipulative Alpha.”

Reading through the growing wave of slander, Qi Fangyue felt utterly vindicated. She even switched to several alternate accounts to “leak” more dirt—claiming Qi Yunwei was unfilial, cold to her family, lazy after dropping out, and indifferent once she married rich. Every rumor she could recall, she embellished and posted.

“Honestly, I pity her parents and siblings for putting up with her all these years. What a disgrace to the family. She wanted fame and ended up humiliated instead.”

Within a single day, Qi Yunwei’s reputation plummeted to rock bottom.

When Yan Zui saw the chaos online, she immediately recognized that much of it was driven by paid trolls. Her first instinct was to have the discussions shut down from the source—but after consulting with Qi Yunwei, they decided against it.

Using censorship would only draw suspicion toward Yan Zui and risk exposing their relationship, which could hurt the Yan Corporation’s upcoming IPO.

So instead, they agreed to issue a simple statement—acknowledge the situation and move on without engaging.

After all, news on the internet changed by the hour. Qi Yunwei wasn’t an entertainer; the public would lose interest soon enough.

That evening, Qi Yunwei posted a message on Weibo:

@QiYunwei: I admit I wasn’t outstanding in the past. But after meeting my wife, I’ve grown into a better version of myself—not just because of money, but because of love. Her love gave me strength and helped me find who I really am.

From now on, I’ll keep working hard. Please look forward to good news soon.

“Good news? What kind of good news? Another 160 stores?”

“She’s got some nerve—I actually kind of believe her.”

“We’ll see how ‘good’ this news really is.”

Jinzhao Youjiu continued thriving—every location was packed from morning till night. In the end, no one cared whether the boss was a “freeloader Alpha,” as long as the food was good.

Even when Qi Fanghuai bought more bots to smear her, many netizens had already grown tired of the drama. “Whatever happens between her and her wife is their business,” they said, and gradually, the noise faded.

Meanwhile, celebrities Peng Xueyu and Qiao Haiyue, who had been involved in earlier promotions, got caught in the crossfire—but their fans quickly mobilized and drowned out the negativity.

Someone even asked Director Liu on Weibo if he knew how things stood between Qi Yunwei and her wife.

He simply replied with six words:

“A loving couple, happy and content.”

Given that Director Liu actually knew Qi Yunwei personally, his words carried weight.

With that, the “background scandal” finally blew over.

Qi Yunwei called Director Liu to thank him. He laughed and said, “If you really want to thank me, just let me have more of Xiao Jiu’s cooking next time.”

These days, since Xiaoman couldn’t determine exactly when Qiao Yi’s affair began, Qi Yunwei made it a habit to chat with Ke Bolin daily—always steering the conversation toward Qiao Yi, hoping to subtly change the course of events and prevent the tragedy from happening.

That afternoon—the ninth day of the lunar new year—Qi Yunwei lounged on her sofa and sent Ke Bolin a message:

Qi Yunwei: “Yan Zui’s company started work on the eighth, but ours won’t reopen till the tenth. So I’ve been home alone these past two days—so boring!”

Ke Bolin: “Tell me about it. Qiao Yi’s company was supposed to resume on the tenth too, but his boss just called and told him to come in early to work overtime. He left not long ago. Said he might be home after midnight. I originally wanted to go to Jinzhao Youjiu to celebrate our third wedding anniversary, but going alone feels pointless now.”

[Xiaoman]: Master, something’s wrong! Qiao Yi must have gone to see his lover!

In the original timeline, Ke Bolin was supposed to return home early from a business trip six days later—only to catch Qiao Yi cheating, get attacked, and end up paralyzed.

Qi Yunwei instantly caught on and typed back:

Qi Yunwei: “A wedding anniversary is way too important to spend apart. You said you wanted to eat Xiao Jiu’s food to celebrate, right? I can cook it at my place, pack it in a food warmer, and we’ll deliver it to Qiao Yi’s office together.”

Ke Bolin was touched and quickly agreed.

Qi Yunwei had Xiao Jiu prepare the dishes, packed them neatly in insulated containers, and then drove over to pick up Ke Bolin. Together, they headed to Qiao Yi’s company downtown.

By the time they arrived, dusk had fallen, streetlights flickering to life as crowds began to fill the sidewalks.

Ke Bolin had changed into a suit, a smile lingering on his face.

Qiao Yi’s company was on the twenty-third floor, but before they could enter the building, a security guard stopped them.

“Excuse me, which company are you with? Do you have employee badges?”

“My wife works here,” Ke Bolin explained. “I’m just bringing her dinner.”

“Which company?” the guard asked.

“Jiangnan Tech.”

The guard frowned. “Jiangnan Tech doesn’t reopen until tomorrow. No one’s in today.”

Ke Bolin hesitated. “But my wife said his boss called and told him to come in early for overtime. He came around three this afternoon—he’s definitely here.”

The guard looked at him sympathetically. “Impossible. I’ve been on duty since two. I check every employee badge—no one from Jiangnan Tech came in.”

Patting Ke Bolin’s shoulder, the guard added softly, “Brother, maybe call your wife and ask where he really is.”

Ke Bolin’s face went pale. He pressed his lips together, stepped aside, and called Qiao Yi.

Qi Yunwei watched his hand tremble as he clutched the lunch box handle.

When the call connected, his grip tightened even more. Less than half a minute later, Qiao Yi hung up.

Expression dark, Ke Bolin returned silently to the car.

From the driver’s seat, Qi Yunwei asked gently, “Bolin, what happened? If he’s not at the office, where could he be?”

Ke Bolin frowned deeply, exhaling after a long pause.

“Qiao Yi has never lied to me before,” he said quietly. “Just now, I asked where he was, if he’d eaten yet. He said he was still working overtime, that his food delivery had just arrived downstairs—and then he hung up.”

Qi Yunwei’s gaze flicked toward the building. There were no food couriers in sight.

“Why would he lie to you?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Ke Bolin murmured, his voice tight. “But tonight, I’ll wait for him to come home—and ask him to his face.”

Even before confronting him, dread had already begun to bloom in his chest.