Not a Scummy Alpha, But a Sweet Puppy (Transmigration Into A Novel) - Chapter 27

“A little test? It’s nothing I can’t handle!” Jiang Zhenmian declared.

But despite her bravado, she was genuinely stumped. Unlike the previous lines, which she could at least skirt around, these two were completely different. How was she supposed to pull this off?

Clutching her new phone, Jiang Zhenmian was dragged into the bathroom by Gu Zhibai, who held up her own phone. “I’ll record you. What song do you want to sing? Should I play the backing track?”

“What to sing…” Jiang Zhenmian stood there, thinking. “The comments section has song requests. Let me see if there’s anything I know.”

She lowered her head to scroll through the comments. Gu Zhibai watched her profile, her thoughts drifting back to the System’s earlier words.

Learning materials… a mission…

She’s actually looking at them… Gu Zhibai’s cheeks flushed slightly. She quickly composed herself, trying to appear nonchalant.

The mission’s lines, however, were all too familiar. In their past life, “Jiang Zhenmian” had often said them to her. Whenever Gu Zhibai voiced even the slightest objection, the woman would snap impatiently, “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

Jiang Zhenmian lowered her head, her gaze fixed intently on her phone screen. How could she possibly say these two lines with the same face?

“Found it! We’ll sing this one,” Jiang Zhenmian said, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

“What song is it?” Gu Zhibai asked, snapping out of her thoughts.

“Second Hand Rose’s ‘Fairy’!” Jiang Zhenmian replied.

Gu Zhibai had never heard of the band or the song. Maintaining her composure, she opened her music player and searched for the instrumental track.

“Wait for me to nod before playing the music,” Jiang Zhenmian said, standing obediently against the wall with her hands behind her back, like a schoolgirl. She muttered softly, “Actually, coming to the bathroom won’t really improve my singing…”

Gu Zhibai pretended not to hear and pressed record. “You can start talking now.”

The bathroom lights cast a soft, white glow on Jiang Zhenmian, enhancing her beauty with an ethereal radiance.

“Good morning, good afternoon, good evening! Today’s song is ‘Fairy’.”

“I already have a girlfriend, so please stop calling me ‘hubby.’ But feel free to use cheesy pick-up lines. I’ll learn some to enrich my collection of corny love quotes.”

After delivering these two lines with utmost seriousness, Jiang Zhenmian nodded at Gu Zhibai, who pressed play. A rhythmic drumbeat and the piercing wail of a suona horn burst forth, echoing through the bathroom.

Gu Zhibai’s eyes widened instantly: What the heck is this?!

The intro quickly faded, and Jiang Zhenmian opened her mouth to sing. For a moment, Gu Zhibai couldn’t tell if she was singing off-key or if the melody itself was just this bizarre.

Jiang Zhenmian finished the song with unwavering seriousness and a completely expressionless face, leaving Gu Zhibai questioning his entire existence. She stopped the recording and said, “I want to hear the original version.”

Jiang Zhenmian immediately perked up. “I’ll find a live performance video for you! This song is way better with the visuals!”

Is it… really…?

Gu Zhibai watched as Jiang Zhenmian clicked on a video thumbnail featuring a shaman-like figure wearing a headdress adorned with countless white, hand-like ornaments resembling the Thousand-Hand Guanyin.

The prelude was unexpectedly beautiful, played on a guzheng. Everything seemed normal until thunder flashed across the screen, revealing a stage draped in red cloth.

“Is this a horror movie?” Gu Zhibai asked.

Jiang Zhenmian cackled. “No, no, look!”

The lights came up, the curtain rose, and Gu Zhibai found herself surprisingly calm. So that white stuff on his head is feathers.

Throughout the entire video, she maintained an expression that seemed to ask, Who am I? Where am I? What is this? Finally, she said slowly, “A pill bug turned spirit. Quite fitting.”
Jiang Zhenmian laughed until her stomach hurt, taking several deep breaths to regain composure. “This is my favorite band!” she declared.

Having never encountered such avant-garde art before, Gu Zhibai didn’t know how to react. But Jiang Zhenmian was waiting for her response. After a pause, she offered sincerely, “It’s… spirited.”

“You’ve captured the essence of Second Hand Rose perfectly,” Jiang Zhenmian said with a knowing smile.

She took back her phone, edited out Gu Zhibai’s initial comment, and rewatched the video at double speed. Satisfied, she uploaded it directly to her account.

“I’ve decided what to do for the next episode,” Jiang Zhenmian said, putting her phone away and tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I’ll read comments.”

“I’m going to roast these people so hard they’ll be… uh,” Jiang Zhenmian abruptly stopped herself, her eyes darting sideways. She forced a nervous laugh, trying to cover her tracks. “Some of these comments are just awful! They’re infuriating! I absolutely have to read them out loud and give them a proper scolding!”

She had almost blurted out “roast them so hard they’ll be helpless,” narrowly avoiding disaster. Phew, that was close… I hope she didn’t notice. She nervously gnawed on her fingernails.

But the word “roast” had already slipped out! She’d been getting too carried away lately, completely forgetting to maintain her persona. How could she curse in front of Gu Zhibai? This is bad, this is bad!

Gu Zhibai, however, seemed to have heard nothing amiss. Her expression softened with concern. “What’s wrong? Are a lot of people saying nasty things?”

Jiang Zhenmian awkwardly clasped her hands behind her back. “Yes, yes they are.” She cleared her throat. “It’s normal, really. I’m not money; I can’t expect everyone to like me. Besides, some people just aren’t interested in money.”

“To be honest, I don’t really care what they think of me. What’s weird is how they say they hate me, but they keep watching my videos and commenting, just boosting my popularity. If they really can’t stand me, why don’t they just stop watching? I don’t get it.”

“I was going to comfort you, but it seems you don’t need it,” Gu Zhibai said calmly.

“No, no, I do need comforting!” Jiang Zhenmian blinked hard, trying to squeeze out a tear, but failed. She covered her face and pretended to sob, “I’m so hurt! They’re attacking me even
though I haven’t done anything wrong. Why do I have to endure their insults? Is there really no justice in this world?”

Gu Zhibai replied evenly, “It’s okay. You can just insult them back.”

The background noise of Jiang Zhenmian’s fake crying abruptly cut off.

“Didn’t you just say you wanted to curse them out?” Gu Zhibai asked. “I heard you. Do you even know how to swear? If not, I can help you.”

What the hell?!

Jiang Zhenmian nearly bit her tongue. “Ah? Sister, you know how to swear too?”

Gu Zhibai nodded. “I do.” She added, “Idiot.”

Jiang Zhenmian: Pfft.

That’s too cute! If this counts as cursing, then she must be a PhD student in cursing.

Jiang Zhenmian put on a serious face. “I can curse too. I learned it online. They say it’s super effective.”

Gu Zhibai asked, curious, “Really? What do you say?”

Jiang Zhenmian enunciated each word carefully: “Useless. Is that all you’ve got?”

Ye’s mother was in good health and had planned to leave the hospital today. However, Ye Wanwan mentioned that Gu Zhiyao would visit her in the afternoon, and for some reason, she changed her mind, pulling her feet back onto the bed instead of putting on her shoes.

Gu Zhiyao arrived as promised, accompanied by Ye Wanwan, carrying a fruit basket.

By human standards of beauty, Gu Zhiyao was undeniably handsome, with sharp, sword-like eyebrows, bright, starry eyes, and striking features. Standing beside him, the petite Ye Wanwan, who barely reached his shoulder, looked like a delicate bird clinging to a strong tree, a perfectly matched pair.

Out of respect for the mother of his beloved, Gu Zhiyao treated Ye’s mother with genuine courtesy, setting aside his usual aloof demeanor. He greeted her warmly, “Hello, Auntie.”

“Thank you for taking such good care of Wanwan,” Ye’s mother said, her gaze fixed on him the moment he entered the room, barely acknowledging her own daughter. Only when he spoke did she shift her attention, forcing a kind smile to mask her true feelings.
“I’m Wanwan’s boyfriend. It’s the least I could do,” Gu Zhiyao replied, turning to Ye Wanwan with eyes full of affection.

Ye Wanwan lowered her head, her cheeks flushing with shyness.

“Please, both of you, sit down,” Ye’s mother urged.

After a few casual remarks about their recent health, Ye’s mother sighed, “As you get older, your organs start to wear out. It’s normal to have minor aches and pains, I suppose…” She changed the subject. “How are your parents doing?”

“My mother’s doing well, but my father was just hospitalized,” Gu Zhiyao replied, oblivious to the subtle tension in Ye’s mother’s expression. He added casually, “It’s quite a coincidence, actually. His room is right next to yours, Auntie.”

“Oh, how… convenient,” Ye’s mother said, her smile strained.

After a few more minutes of small talk, Gu Zhiyao left first, and Ye Wanwan stayed to keep her mother company.

Ye’s mother grabbed her daughter’s hand. “Wanwan, go get me discharged right away. I want to go home.”

Ye Wanwan looked puzzled. “But Mom, why? You’re not fully recovered yet.”

“This is an old ailment, dear. It’s never going to completely heal. Besides, there’s nothing seriously wrong with me now. I just need to take my medication regularly,” Ye’s mother insisted.

Seeing her daughter’s hesitation, she sighed again. “This hospital is so cold and impersonal. It’s nothing like the comfort of home. I feel restless here. Even if I weren’t sick, I’d probably get sick just from being here. And it’s such a hassle for you to rush back and forth from work every day.”

She patted Ye Wanwan’s hand. “Look at you, my precious daughter, you’ve gotten so thin from all this running around.”

Ye Wanwan couldn’t argue with her mother. She was gently pushed out of the hospital room. “Go on now. We’ll go home together later, and I’ll make you sweet and sour pork ribs.”

Once Ye Wanwan was out of sight, Ye’s mother glanced around the empty corridor. A determined look flashed across her face as she tiptoed to the adjacent hospital room. She pretended to be passing by and peered through the window.

From the doorway, she could only see that the bed was occupied. A caregiver sat dozing in the corner.

Ye’s mother shifted her position several times, trying to get a glimpse of the patient’s face, but to no avail. She gave up and turned to leave.

Just then, a glamorous woman in her thirties, impeccably dressed and well-maintained, rounded the corner. Her hands, neck, and ears were adorned with lavish jewels.

Ye’s mother glanced at her and quickly turned away, hurrying back to her own room.

As she passed the bathroom, her legs seemed to move of their own accord, turning into the dimly lit space.

In the mirror, her face was clearly reflected.

A weary face, etched with fine lines at the corners of her eyes, bore the marks of time. Though her features still hinted at her youthful beauty and her skin remained fair, how could she compare to Mother Gu, who seemed to live in beauty salons?

This wasn’t her first time seeing Mother Gu. The woman’s aristocratic grace and unwavering confidence, honed over decades, had only deepened with time, making her even more elegant and beautiful.

How could a modest woman like Ye’s mother ever compete with a woman of such high breeding?

“No wonder you chose her,” Ye’s mother murmured. “He looks so much like her.”

When Ye Wanwan returned, she found her mother alone in the bathroom. Thinking she was simply tidying up, Wanwan said, “Mom, I’m back from handling the paperwork.”

Ye’s mother quickly composed herself, washed her hands, gathered her toiletries, and emerged from the bathroom. “I’ve packed most of our things. Let’s take the fruit your boyfriend brought earlier and go.”

Wanwan nodded and dutifully carried all the luggage herself, while her other hand supported her mother as they walked out of the hospital room.

As they passed the neighboring room, Ye’s mother couldn’t resist glancing inside. Mother Gu was there, scolding the caregiver with her usual haughty demeanor.

Ye’s mother felt a sharp pang, turned away, and gripped her daughter’s hand tightly.

Back home, despite Ye Wanwan’s protests, Ye’s mother insisted on preparing a full meal. During dinner, she asked, “Wanwan, do you really like that boy so much?”
Ye Wanwan’s face flushed crimson at the mention of him. “Yes, Mom, I do.”

“But I’ve heard these wealthy young men treat relationships so casually, Wanwan. You need to be careful. I know this might sound harsh, but I’m genuinely worried about you. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Ye’s mother spoke with earnest concern.

“Mom,” Ye Wanwan set down her chopsticks, her expression serious. “Zhiyao isn’t like that. He’s different from those other guys. He’s really good to me.”

“If you say so, then I feel a little better,” Ye’s mother smiled, as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders. “But don’t forget your promise to me. No staying up late, okay?”

“Ugh, I know!” Ye Wanwan shot her mother a playfully embarrassed glare.

Jiang Zhenmian had an idea about the System’s mission. She knew she couldn’t pull it off alone, but what if she got Gu Zhibai involved?

So, after dinner, Jiang Zhenmian sidled up to Gu Zhibai. “Sister, have you ever been to a bar?”

Gu Zhibai immediately picked up on the key word “bar” and realized what Jiang Zhenmian was getting at. She had no intention of making things difficult for her, so she played along. “I’ve been twice. Why do you ask?”

Jiang Zhenmian chuckled. “What’s a bar like? I’ve never been. The internet says it’s best to go with friends, not alone.” She tilted her head, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Is it really as fun as they say?”

Jiang Zhenmian had been to a bar once, just to see what it was like. It was deafeningly loud and packed with people, a chaotic scene of dancing and shouting. She’d walked in, ordered a drink, downed it in seconds, and bolted out just as quickly. She never went back. Gaming at home was far more enjoyable.

“Hmm… I wouldn’t say it’s that fun,” Gu Zhibai replied. “It’s just a place to drink and dance. Quiet bars are more relaxed.”

“Let’s go to a bar tonight and not go home, okay? I’ve never experienced staying out all night before,” Jiang Zhenmian pleaded, clinging to Gu Zhibai’s arm. “Let’s celebrate our… our housewarming! Please?”

I knew it… Gu Zhibai thought, her eyes narrowing slightly as she smiled. “Alright, I’ll go to a bar with you, but we’re still going home to sleep tonight.”

“Thank you, Sister! Yay!” Jiang Zhenmian showed no sign of disappointment or sadness.
The moment I said it, the mission’s complete. Whether she agrees or not doesn’t matter. She mentally patted herself on the back for her cleverness. See? That was easy!

Piece of cake! No difficulty at all, System-kun! When you issued this mission, you never expected this, did you? I, Jiang-san, conquered it effortlessly. You must be stunned speechless by now!

Host, your logic is flawed. I wanted you to complete the mission all along. And why are you speaking with a Japanese anime accent?

Jiang Zhenmian sighed in exasperation. “Stop studying psychology and read up on emotional intelligence instead.”

I don’t understand. What does emotional intelligence have to do with you using a Japanese anime accent?

Jiang Zhenmian: “You’ll understand when you see it.”

This is going to be the death of me.

Gu Zhibai had chosen a bar called Qingsheng, known for its higher prices. The boss behind it was someone from the upper echelons of society. It was barely a quiet bar, at least not as noisy as most, and its price range ensured it wouldn’t get too crowded.

The house band was excellent, led by a female vocalist with a naturally magnetic voice, perfect for jazz.

The decor was, of course, impeccable. Blue-purple lighting bathed the space in an ethereal glow, creating a dreamlike atmosphere.

Gu Zhibai led the wide-eyed Jiang Zhenmian to an empty booth, ordered two low-alcohol cocktails, and some snacks.

Jiang Zhenmian looked around, feeling like Grandma Liu visiting the Rongguo Mansion for the second time.

While Gu Zhibai was ordering, she glanced at the menu. Once the server left, she leaned in close and whispered, “This place is robbing people blind! It’s so expensive!”

It was like buying water for two yuan a bottle at the supermarket, only to find it priced at twenty yuan in a tourist area. What a rip-off!

A fruit platter cost over six hundred yuan. When it arrived, it was just ordinary pears, apples, and the like. Not even carved into something fancy like a phoenix surrounded by a hundred birds. This is outrageous!

The portion was utterly unremarkable, just a small plate. Even if they’d piled it high, how much could it hold? And it wasn’t even full, with a divider in the middle taking up even more space.

“This place is a rip-off,” Jiang Zhenmian declared.

Gu Zhibai nodded in agreement. “You’re absolutely right. It’s a total rip-off.”

But most people with money seemed to enjoy flaunting their status through such ostentatious and impractical spending.

As they spoke, Gu Zhibai noticed several familiar faces entering the restaurant and heading straight to the second floor. One of them spotted her in the booth, tapped the shoulder of the person in front, and whispered something. The others turned to look, and soon the whole group was staring in her direction.

Jiang Zhenmian noticed her gaze and looked outside as well. “Do you know them, Sister?”

“Technically, yes,” Gu Zhibai replied, “but we’re not close.”

Two of Gu Zhiyao’s cronies were each accompanied by an unfamiliar girl. The third was her former admirer, or rather, her persistent suitor.

This man had pursued Gu Zhibai relentlessly, even after she broke up with her girlfriend. Despite her repeated rejections, he refused to give up. It wasn’t until Gu Zhibai became CEO of Gu Corporation and targeted his family’s business several times that he finally backed off.

Gu Zhibai’s mood soured the moment she saw him.

This man, Zhong Shangxing, was even more chauvinistic than Gu Zhiyao. He resented Gu Zhibai for choosing a woman over him, constantly spouting nonsense about her “going astray” and “not understanding the value of a man.”

He was always lost in his own world. Every time Gu Zhibai glanced at him, he’d assume she was interested and shower her with unwanted attention.

Disgusted, Gu Zhibai only told the Zhong Family Head to discipline him, warning that she’d call the police if he continued harassing her.

The Family Head gave Zhong Shangxing a stern dressing-down, which kept him quiet for a while. Then they sent him abroad. But even as he left, he insisted his father “didn’t understand
the beauty of love” and had deliberately torn them apart, spewing nauseating lines about being a “cowherd” and her being a “weaver girl.”

She had no idea when he’d returned to the country.

The sight of his face instantly wiped away her good mood, leaving only irritation. This feeling intensified as he approached.

Strictly speaking, Zhong Shangxing wasn’t ugly. In this day and age, wealthy families always married attractive people, so their children were bound to inherit decent looks.

Zhong Shangxing was handsome enough, but he wasn’t particularly tall, barely clearing 1.7 meters, about the same height as Jiang Zhenmian.

When he approached, he didn’t immediately launch into any particularly annoying remarks. Instead, he glanced Jiang Zhenmian up and down, smiled, and turned to Gu Zhibai. “Zhibai, it’s been a while. You’re as beautiful as ever.”

Gu Zhibai’s face remained utterly expressionless, her eyes cold. “You can leave now.”

Zhong Shangxing’s skin was thicker than a city wall. A dismissal like that had less impact on him than a gentle breeze. “Zhibai’s still as spirited as ever. It’s what makes her so charming. And who might this be?”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Gu Zhibai said. “You’re interrupting our date.”

A flicker of darkness crossed Zhong Shangxing’s eyes. “Girlfriend? I never imagined Zhibai would have such enduring tastes. You really haven’t changed at all.” He turned to Jiang Zhenmian, his tone deliberately provocative. “I wonder if you know that Zhibai had a first love who looked exactly like you. Their romance was legendary, truly spectacular.”

“I know,” Jiang Zhenmian said, taking Gu Zhibai’s hand and gazing at her with deep affection. “I know there’s another woman in her heart. I know she’s with me only to find some solace. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”

Her eyes sparkled with affection as she said earnestly, “I love her. I don’t care why she chose me. As long as I can be with her, by her side, I’m completely content.”

“My sister told me why she was with me. I wasn’t angry or sad. In fact, I felt grateful. If I hadn’t happened to have this similar face, how could I ever have been with her?”

“That’s what love is, isn’t it? It makes you blind, makes you throw caution to the wind, makes you abandon yourself. But now that I’m by her side, I feel utterly blissful,” Jiang Zhenmian said. “I can tell you’re a deeply affectionate person too. You must understand how I feel!”
Zhong Shangxing stared in disbelief. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Jiang Zhenmian glared furiously. “You can insult my parents, my family, my friends, but how dare you insult me? Calling me crazy is an insult to my sister’s judgment! I’m so angry, so furious! You’ll regret this! This is a personal insult! I’m calling the police to have you arrested!”

She pulled out her phone and began dialing 110.

Zhong Shangxing: ???

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