Not a Scummy Alpha, But a Sweet Puppy (Transmigration Into A Novel) - Chapter 18

Jiang Zhenmian wanted to say it wasn’t necessary to go to such trouble, that it was fine if the snowman melted, but seeing Gu Zhibai’s earnestness, she felt a sense of being valued and cooperated, carefully placing the snowman into the box.

The office’s inner room was a small break room with a refrigerator in the corner. Gu Zhibai put the box on the bottom shelf, thinking she’d get a small glass container for it later.

When Gu Zhibai emerged from the break room, Jiang Zhenmian was brushing snow off her clothes. Gu Zhibai immediately noticed her hands were bright red. When she took one in her own, she was startled by the icy coldness of Jiang Zhenmian’s skin.

“Why are your hands so cold?”

Jiang Zhenmian quickly yanked her hand back and hid it behind her. “I was just playing in the snow. They’ll warm up soon.”

The CEO, her hair pulled back, stared at Jiang Zhenmian for a moment before softly saying, “Show me your hands.”

Her tone wasn’t harsh, yet Jiang Zhenmian felt like a mouse caught in a cat’s gaze, sensing an inexplicable danger. She obediently extended her hands.

Gu Zhibai sighed, took Jiang Zhenmian’s ice-cold hands, and pulled her down to sit on the sofa. “I’m just warming them up for you.”

Her hands were soft, white, and delicate, like warm jade. Sitting so close, their legs pressed together, Jiang Zhenmian’s face slowly flushed. Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but the words remained stuck in her throat, not a single syllable escaping.

Though her lips remained silent, her eyes laid bare every thought. Her irises were deep and dark, like a bottomless night sky. When she stared impassively or gazed with mockery, her gaze carried the weight of a gloomy, icy night.

But when she looked at Gu Zhibai, the lamplight caught in her eyes like stars twinkling against the night sky. The love in her gaze flowed like a silent, surging river of stars across the dark expanse, quiet yet overwhelming.

Gu Zhibai didn’t meet her gaze, her eyes fixed on her own hands. Yet she could still feel the overwhelming emotion radiating from Jiang Zhenmian, permeating the air, enveloping her completely, seeping into every pore.
After a long moment, Jiang Zhenmian released Gu Zhibai’s hand and gently cautioned, “Don’t touch the snow with bare hands again. You’ll get frostbite.”

“Does Sister care about me?” Jiang Zhenmian teased.

“Yes,” Gu Zhibai replied, meeting her gaze. “I care about you.”

The impulsive words surged through Jiang Zhenmian like molten lava, searing her heart. She wanted to confess, to spill out all her anxieties and desires at once. She wanted to touch Gu Zhibai’s forehead, cheeks, nose, lips, anywhere. She wanted to caress her hair, with the back of her hand, with her fingertips, with kisses on every inch of her skin.

She opened her mouth, “I…”

I’m not sure. What if I fail? We might not even be friends anymore.

Gu Zhibai was looking at her with a puzzled expression. Jiang Zhenmian forced her tongue to untangle itself and blurted out, “I want to eat that beef tongue we had last time.”

Gu Zhibai shook her head, chuckling. “You’re something else.”

“Let me check if there are any openings. I’ll take you there today.”

The warmth of Gu Zhibai’s hand on hers was particularly noticeable. Jiang Zhenmian suppressed the strange mix of emotions and disappointment swirling inside her, forcing a bright, surprised smile. “Wow, Sister, you’re the best! I’m so happy!”

Seeing her reaction, Gu Zhibai decided to stop working. She called the restaurant and found they had two spots available. “Lucky us. Let’s go.”

“Eh? Aren’t you working anymore?” Jiang Zhenmian asked, surprised. Gu Zhibai usually worked until eight in the evening.

“Looking at how hungry you are, if we don’t leave now, you might just eat me out of desperation,” Gu Zhibai teased, pinching Jiang Zhenmian’s cheek with a gentle laugh.

“You never know,” Jiang Zhenmian mumbled, her words slightly slurred. Though how I’d eat you is another matter entirely.

The restaurant wasn’t too far away, about a half-hour drive. The waiters, dressed in crisp white shirts and black vests, were polished and handsome as they led the two women to a window-side table.
The tables were spaced far apart, and a band played soothing music in the background. The atmosphere was elegant, and the guests were dressed in suits and evening gowns, speaking in hushed tones and deliberate movements.

The appetizers had just arrived, but before either of them could take a bite, a young man in stylish clothes approached their table. He greeted Jiang Zhenmian warmly, “Sister Miao, when did you get back? You didn’t even tell me! What are you two doing having a secret dinner together?”

His words were directed at Jiang Zhenmian, but Gu Zhibai’s expression immediately darkened. Her voice was icy as she replied, “She’s not the person you think she is. You’ve mistaken her for someone else.”

The young man froze, glancing between Jiang Zhenmian and Gu Zhibai, his mind clearly racing. “Oh, right, haha… I forgot my contacts today. I just saw the figure from the entrance and thought… my bad, my eyes must be going bad.”

He forced an awkward laugh. “Sorry, Sister Gu. I won’t disturb your meal. I’ll come by another day to apologize properly.”

Gu Zhibai’s face remained unreadable as she waved him off. As he left, it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room, silencing all sound and plunging them into silence.

Gu Zhibai seemed to be carefully choosing her words, while Jiang Zhenmian’s brain was about to short-circuit after hearing the previous few sentences.

Sister Miao? Wait, do romance novels with domineering CEOs actually have substitute tropes?

Even if they do, isn’t it always the innocent female lead who’s the substitute, and the sophisticated returnee the original love interest? How can even the supporting character among the supporting characters be pulling this substitute nonsense?

Author, you’re being ridiculous! If you’ve run out of ideas, just stop writing! What kind of cliché garbage is this?!

Jiang Zhenmian wasn’t particularly worried. Even if she was a substitute, it would be the kind where the substitute rises to become the real deal, leading to a “chasing after his wife” redemption arc.

This detail hadn’t been mentioned in the original novel’s plot, so she didn’t know the specifics and refused to jump to conclusions.

She trusted Gu Zhibai’s character and believed she wouldn’t engage in such sentimental substitutions.
Gu Zhibai gazed into her eyes and said softly, “I don’t want you to misunderstand, nor do I want to hide anything. I just didn’t think it was necessary to mention.”

“The person he mentioned earlier is Song Qingmiao, my ex-girlfriend. Among us second-generation rich kids, we’ve known each other since childhood. Song Qingmiao was my high school sweetheart. We were young and naive back then, and we got together without our families knowing. Many of our peers were aware, though.”

“Later, she went abroad. I clung to her for a while, but we eventually broke up. You resemble her a bit, though she had long hair and was more alluring.”

Her expression turned solemn as she said, “We haven’t been in contact for years, and I have no feelings for her anymore. I absolutely don’t see you as her replacement.”

Jiang Zhenmian gripped her fork and knife tightly, listening to the pounding of her own heart. Her voice strained slightly as she asked, “What do you mean by ‘seeing me as her replacement’? In your heart, Sister, do I hold the same position as she once did?”

Their gazes locked. A flicker of anxiety crossed Jiang Zhenmian’s face, mingled with raw, naked anticipation. Her eyes remained fixed, unblinking, as if afraid to miss a single nuance.

Gu Zhibai froze for a moment, belatedly realizing her explanation had gone far beyond the bounds of mere friendship.

If their relationship were purely platonic, such a detailed explanation would have been unnecessary. A simple “You’ve mistaken me for someone else” would have sufficed to end the conversation.

But look at what she’d said: meticulously recounting every detail of their history, as if that weren’t enough, she’d then frantically insisted she wasn’t seeing Jiang Zhenmian as a substitute, desperate to avoid any misunderstanding.

Wasn’t that just protesting too much?

She had feelings for Jiang Zhenmian, that was undeniable, but it was something she absolutely couldn’t admit.

Gu Zhibai avoided her gaze, lowering her eyes with a soft smile. “If we don’t eat soon, the food will get cold.”

It was a gentle rejection.

Jiang Zhenmian’s racing heart froze. After a moment of silence, she curled her lips into a faint smile. “Sister is right.”
Those two simple sentences felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head, extinguishing the burning in her veins. Sitting in the warm, quiet room, she felt as if she had been plunged into the cosmos, a silent chill engulfing her body and freezing her heart.

The grilled beef tongue was as delicious as ever, but Jiang Zhenmian’s mood had shifted. She tried to act normal, to make lively, playful remarks as if nothing had happened, but the pain was too raw, draining her energy. The words were the same, but they tasted different now.

Gu Zhibai knew exactly what was wrong, yet she didn’t ask a single question. Her own heart ached. How could it be pleasant to say words of rejection against her will, hurting someone she cared for?

But getting her to compromise was as difficult as climbing to the heavens.

Gu Zhibai simply didn’t trust her self-control to maintain her sense of self once she fell in love.

Hurting each other was the worst possible strategy. She had originally planned to maintain this ambiguous relationship forever, never breaking through the thin veil of pretense.

But she had let slip her true feelings, and Jiang Zhenmian had seized the opportunity to test her.

The meal was tasteless, ending abruptly. As they stepped outside, snow began to fall again. It was already ten at night, and Jiang Zhenmian’s school dormitory would be locked at this hour, making it impossible for her to return.

Gu Zhibai hesitated, wondering whether to invite Jiang Zhenmian to stay at her place. She wanted to, but she feared Jiang Zhenmian would refuse.

Before she could speak, Jiang Zhenmian said, “It’s getting late, and you have work tomorrow, Sister. You should go home. I’ll just find a hotel for the night.”

Gu Zhibai looked at Jiang Zhenmian, the scene a perfect reversal of what had happened in the restaurant. This time, Jiang Zhenmian avoided her gaze, looking up at the snowflakes drifting through the pitch-black night sky.

“Why don’t you come stay at my place?” Gu Zhibai finally asked.

“That would be too much trouble for you, Sister,” Jiang Zhenmian replied. “Besides, rumors about us have already started circulating at work. I don’t mind, but it might not be good for you.”

Jiang Zhenmian turned her head, her smile faint, her voice carried away by the swirling, icy wind. “I can take care of myself. You don’t need to worry about me, Sister.”

Her tone was the same as before, with that playful, slightly teasing lilt at the end. But Gu Zhibai distinctly felt a sudden chill of distance.

She wanted to explain, but she didn’t know where to begin or how to say it. She stood there for a long moment, hesitating, as snowflakes swirled through the space between them, carried by the biting wind.

Jiang Zhenmian sneezed, then laughed. “Achoo! It’s freezing! Let’s hurry up before we catch a cold.”

Gu Zhibai swallowed the words she had been about to say, her face pale. She pressed her lips together and murmured, “Yes, it’s too cold. Be careful on your way home.”

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