Not a Scummy Alpha, But a Sweet Puppy (Transmigration Into A Novel) - Chapter 28

Zhong Shangxing froze, watching Jiang Zhenmian’s finger hover over the dial button. Wait, is she really calling the police?

He glanced at Gu Zhibai, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You two are really close. I was just joking around. Why are you taking it so seriously?”

Jiang Zhenmian frowned, her expression dark. “Your joke wasn’t funny at all! Sister, who is he? Why is he here, talking nonsense and interrupting our date?”

“He’s Zhong Shangxing. He’s nobody.” Seeing the man’s discomfited expression, Gu Zhibai’s mood lifted considerably, and a genuine smile returned to her face.

Before Zhong Shangxing could retort, Jiang Zhenmian sighed deeply, her anger fading into bitterness.

“What he said about me doesn’t hurt or upset me. I know I’m just a weed in the dirt, a speck of dust. But Sister is a cloud in the sky, pure wind, the morning sun, morning dew, the embodiment of all that is beautiful in the world.”

Jiang Zhenmian cradled Gu Zhibai’s hand against her heart, her eyes brimming with tears. “To have shared even a moment of love with Sister,” she said softly, her voice trembling, “has exhausted all the luck in my life. Every morning, I find myself praying deeply, begging heaven to let this love last a little longer, just a little longer.”

“Sister is my everything, the light of my life. I know I don’t deserve her. Mr. Zhong, you speak as if I don’t understand my own heart. I’m sick, fatally so, because I love her so deeply. I love this woman before me, and I can’t control myself, nor do I want to leave.”

She wiped away a tear and forced a bitter smile. “I never imagined you’d see through me on our first meeting. My outburst earlier was just anger born of being exposed. I know our time together will end someday, but please, let that day come slowly. Let me bask in this joy a little longer. Don’t shatter this beautiful bubble.”

“Mr. Zhong, please leave. We don’t have the strength to talk right now.”

Jiang Zhenmian sobbed softly, each word measured and deliberate. “Just let us have some peace.”

Zhong Shangxing glanced deeply at Gu Zhibai, then at Jiang Zhenmian, his mind swirling with existential self-doubt.

Who am I? Where am I? Did I just wander onto the wrong set?

What is this? Has Gu Zhibai’s taste become so bizarre? Or has she gone mad from longing after their breakup, appearing normal on the surface but secretly losing her mind over time?

He chuckled dryly and turned to leave. He had only come to talk to Gu Zhibai, but now he felt mentally contaminated.

Jiang Zhenmian watched his hasty retreat. “Pah, what a piece of trash.”

Sometime later, Gu Zhibai’s smile returned, her mood brightening considerably. “You’re such a clever little thing.”

“Who was that guy anyway?” Jiang Zhenmian asked.

“A persistent suitor,” Gu Zhibai replied, her voice dripping with disdain.

“I could tell he was no good. If you scraped the oil off his face, you could fill an entire oil field. With his oil production, the country wouldn’t need to develop new energy sources. He could supply the whole nation in a single day!” Jiang Zhenmian scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“He actually said, ‘Someone would like him’? Pfft!” Jiang Zhenmian mimicked Zhong Shangxing’s tone with exaggerated flair. “A few drinks and he’s already full of himself? Doesn’t he ever look in a mirror? Who does he think he is? The next UN Secretary-General? Short and with a face too big for his head. It’s not just shamelessness, it’s downright arrogance! So self-absorbed he can’t even see what a piece of trash he is. Parading around with that face like he’s some kind of treasure!”

Her words poured out in a torrent, unfiltered and unthinking, her mouth moving on autopilot. Even after two fiery paragraphs, she still felt unsatisfied. But then, a chill ran down her neck, and a sudden sense of impending doom washed over her.

Jiang Zhenmian slowly closed her mouth, her gaze shifting to the left. There stood Gu Zhibai, her eyes wide with astonishment.

This is it!

I’m really done for this time!

“Ha… ha,” Jiang Zhenmian forced a dry laugh, grabbing her cocktail and gulping down two large mouthfuls. “This drink is… really refreshing. Ha ha. They put so much ice in it. No wonder.”

Gu Zhibai: “You…”
Jiang Zhenmian immediately threw herself to the ground, banging her head against the floor. “I was wrong! I shouldn’t have sworn just now. Strictly speaking, though, none of the words I used were actually vulgar. So, I wasn’t really swearing. I was just expressing my opinions and feelings out of excitement, without any subjective intent to insult or defame. Every word I used was an accurate description based on objective facts. It might not have sounded very elegant or pleasant, but harsh truths are always hard to hear.”

“Do you think… I’ve successfully weaseled my way out of this?” She surreptitiously peeked through her fingers at Gu Zhibai’s expression.

“What do you think?” Gu Zhibai replied.

Oh no!

System: “Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Busted!”

Jiang Zhenmian didn’t have time to deal with the gloating System. She was truly in deep trouble now, like a clay bodhisattva crossing the river, barely able to save herself.

“Um, um…” Jiang Zhenmian racked her brain for an excuse. “Actually, you must have hallucinated hearing me say those things. I’m a good girl, I never swear. You just misheard me.”

“Does that explanation sound reasonable?” Gu Zhibai leaned back, watching her with amusement. “Hmm… not really. Anything else?”

Jiang Zhenmian took a deep breath, her expression grave. “Actually, I have multiple personality disorder. The person who spoke just now was one of my alters. She’s a cynical, rebellious teenager with a sharp tongue. I’m too timid and always get bullied, so she emerged over time to help me cope with situations that make me uncomfortable.”

“This mental illness is often misunderstood. I didn’t mean to hide it from you, but… I was afraid telling you would affect our relationship. Now that you’ve discovered it, I have no choice but to confess. I’m sorry for deceiving you for so long.”

She spoke with such sincerity that it almost sounded genuine. If Gu Zhibai didn’t know her true nature, she might have actually fallen for it.

Gu Zhibai simply stared at her, her expression clear: Let’s see what else you can come up with.

“Was I really wrong?” Jiang Zhenmian, after enduring Gu Zhibai’s unwavering gaze for a while, finally deflated like a punctured inflatable costume, collapsing limply onto the table. Her hands, however, remained restless, repeatedly hooking Gu Zhibai’s fingers.

“Sister, Sister, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hide anything from you. Well, I did, but I had a reason!”

“Oh? What reason?” Gu Zhibai asked.

“Well, I heard you prefer lively and cute personalities…” Jiang Zhenmian said, glancing at Gu Zhibai after each sentence, her words faltering as if she were being forced to expose her deepest secrets.

Heard? From the System? Gu Zhibai mused. Of course, the System was right; she did have a soft spot for that type.

Gu Zhibai, fundamentally starved for affection, was naturally drawn to people who radiated warmth like little suns.

But people weren’t programmed machines, bound to act according to fixed rules. Couldn’t she grow to like other types? Couldn’t she change?

The real reason she’d fallen for Jiang Zhenmian was because she’d told the truth, not because of any supposed “liveliness.” Besides, after the events of her previous life, Gu Zhibai felt a deep aversion to such forced cheerfulness.

After the pheromone incident, Gu Zhibai had a nagging suspicion that Jiang Zhenmian’s personality wasn’t what she seemed. How could someone who had always been so talkative suddenly become so reserved and stubborn after reverting to her true self?

The truth was undeniable: Jiang Zhenmian was putting on an act.

But she had given herself away far too quickly. The evidence was right there in front of her, and Gu Zhibai couldn’t help but feel angry. Yet when she saw Jiang Zhenmian’s anxious, cautious expression, her heart softened again.

“I do like you,” Gu Zhibai said, her face expressionless but her eyes earnest and complex. “But I hate being deceived even more. What I want is for us to trust each other and be genuine in this relationship.”

The house band was playing a lively jazz tune, and the dance floor was a blur of overlapping shadows. In this cramped space, separated only by a curtain, all other sounds seemed to fade away. Jiang Zhenmian’s gaze was fixed solely on Gu Zhibai’s face as she leaned in close.

Gu Zhibai gently stroked Jiang Zhenmian’s cheek, her fingertips tracing the red marks on her skin. Her voice was as soft and soothing as pure dew. “What I like is you, the person you are, not some superficial facade.”

“So, according to you, I’d just fall for anyone who’s cheerful?”

Jiang Zhenmian shook her head blankly, her expression filled with guilt. “…I’m sorry.”

“I hate arguing. Pointless arguments only wear down our feelings,” Gu Zhibai said. “That’s why I want you to be your most authentic self with me, and I’ll show you my true self in return.”

“If we have disagreements or problems, let’s sit down and talk it through properly, find solutions together,” she continued. “I want a love that lasts, not just fleeting moments of happiness.”

Her voice, like spring rain, fell on Jiang Zhenmian’s heart, rippling outward in ever-widening circles. The best response would have been to agree, but Jiang Zhenmian hesitated.

Gu Zhibai’s words were full of hope. Jiang Zhenmian averted her gaze, her lips moving silently before she finally mumbled, “I… I don’t know if I can do that.”

“It’s okay. We have plenty of time. We can take it slow,” Gu Zhibai said gently, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

The kiss felt like a charm, piercing straight into Jiang Zhenmian’s heart. There, it pushed aside the shadows, carving out a small, sunlit space.

She wanted to speak, but her throat felt stuffed with cotton, swollen and tight, choking off her voice. All she could manage was a muffled murmur of acknowledgment.

Gu Zhibai ruffled Jiang Zhenmian’s hair. “Alright, sit up. Don’t lie there; the table’s cold.”

“How… how are you so kind?” Jiang Zhenmian whined softly.

“Because I like you,” Gu Zhibai replied with a smile, leaning in to press a fleeting kiss to her lips.

Their lips brushed together, parting as lightly as a falling petal.

Jiang Zhenmian was like a little hedgehog wearing a flower crown, cautiously retracting her quills to reveal her harmless side.

“I need to confess something,” she blurted out.

Her mind raced, and after saying those words, she grew anxious and hesitant. Trembling, she met Gu Zhibai’s encouraging, understanding gaze. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, mentally steeling herself. “I need to confess… I’m actually really vengeful and sharp-tongued. I’m not generous or forgiving at all. I often get into… friendly exchanges with people online.”

Gu Zhibai chuckled softly and nodded. “I noticed. Your tongue is quite nimble.”

She paused for a moment before saying, “Then I’ll confess a secret too. I’ve known all along that you were sent by Gu Zhiyao.”

“Huh?” Jiang Zhenmian’s jaw dropped slowly, her eyes widening into perfect circles, resembling a live-action version of Edvard Munch’s The Scream.

“When did you figure it out?”

“From the very beginning,” Gu Zhibai replied.

“Gu Zhiyao and I have never had a brotherly relationship. We’ve been at odds since childhood. The chances of him suddenly changing his ways and inviting me to an art exhibition as an apology are even slimmer than the sun rising in the west.”

“I never trusted him from the start. Then I met you,” Gu Zhibai said with a smile. “As a college student with no connections or family background, even with your talent, the likelihood of you being invited to the exhibition was extremely low.”

“Knowing you had ulterior motives, I still fell for you,” Gu Zhibai said with a sigh. “Compared to that, I suppose I was the more foolish one.”

“Now that we’ve both confessed a secret, we’re even.”

“If I hadn’t revealed Gu Zhiyao’s involvement that day, would we have had no chance at all?” Jiang Zhenmian asked, her initial shock fading as a crucial question flashed through her mind.

“Yes, I didn’t trust you back then,” Gu Zhibai said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes held a complex mix of unspoken emotions and melancholy, her voice as light and drifting as a cloud. “I’d rather let my feelings fade away than fall completely in love with a liar who didn’t love me back.”

System, you big scammer! Jiang Zhenmian thought. This is way off the original plot. I can’t trust those storylines at all. What a joke! I’m going to settle the score with you later.

Jiang Zhenmian felt a wave of lingering fear. Thank goodness I didn’t rely entirely on the plot’s momentum or believe in the story’s supposed inevitability. I chose to fight for it myself.

“So it’s true after all,” Jiang Zhenmian murmured. “Good things really do happen to good people.”

“What if I hadn’t stopped you that day?” Gu Zhibai suddenly asked. “Would you have kept going?”

“If Sister hadn’t stopped me, I would have hanged myself at Gu Zhiyao’s doorstep,” Jiang Zhenmian said with mock seriousness.

Gu Zhibai: ?

“Just kidding!” Jiang Zhenmian laughed. “I haven’t even kissed Sister yet. How could I give up now?”

System: Host…

Jiang Zhenmian cut it off mid-sentence. “Shut up! I haven’t settled the score with you yet!”

“It feels so much better to finally say it,” Jiang Zhenmian sighed, a relieved smile spreading across her face. “Keeping it from you made me feel guilty, but I was also afraid you’d hate me if I told you.”

“If there’s something about me you don’t like, would you be willing to change it?” Gu Zhibai asked.

Jiang Zhenmian paused, considering her words carefully. “If I have a flaw that makes you unhappy, I’ll change it,” she said earnestly.

“Then, conversely, I want you to tell me if there’s anything about me you don’t like,” Gu Zhibai said. “I don’t want you to be unhappy because of me either.”

Jiang Zhenmian nodded, but inwardly she felt it would be incredibly difficult.

She wasn’t one for open communication, preferring to bottle up her problems and process them alone. Forcing her to reveal her innermost thoughts felt worse than death.

Yet logically, Gu Zhibai’s words made perfect sense. Honesty was the foundation of any relationship. Suppressing conflicts only allowed them to fester into poisonous sores that would eventually erode their bond.

And that was the last thing Jiang Zhenmian wanted.

Well, let’s just take things one step at a time. Things will work out in the end.

“We came to the bar to have fun, but it’s turned into a heart-to-heart session,” Gu Zhibai remarked, picking up her cocktail. The ice had mostly melted, and she noticed the snacks on the table had barely been touched.

“Want to dance?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink and looking at Jiang Zhenmian.

“Ah? I’ve never danced before…” Jiang Zhenmian hesitated.

“I’ll lead you. It’s easy,” Gu Zhibai said, rising to her feet and extending a hand in an inviting gesture.

Jiang Zhenmian wavered between hesitation and longing before slowly placing her hand in Gu Zhibai’s.

The dance floor pulsed with flashing lights as the band’s lead singer crooned a hypnotic jazz tune, her voice like scalding steam that left the crowd mesmerized.

Gu Zhibai led Jiang Zhenmian to a secluded corner and guided her hand to rest on her waist.

Whether from nerves or something else, Jiang Zhenmian’s mouth felt parched. She swallowed hard and wrapped her arms around Gu Zhibai’s waist. Gu Zhibai, in turn, hooked her arm around Jiang Zhenmian’s neck and whispered in her ear, “Hold me tight.”

They stood close, yet maintained a sliver of distance. As they swayed to the music, their bodies brushed together and parted. Whether it was the heat of the dance floor or her own rising temperature, Jiang Zhenmian felt a wave of heat rush through her, leaving her dizzy, flustered, and utterly disoriented.

The lead singer’s voice was hoarse and fervent, and the dance floor buzzed with chaotic chatter. But Jiang Zhenmian was utterly focused, feeling Gu Zhibai’s heartbeat, sometimes near, sometimes distant, and catching faint whiffs of her fragrance. Though she’d barely sipped her drink, she felt almost drunk.

They danced two songs. As the intro to the next track began with a heavy drumbeat, Gu Zhibai pulled away, took Jiang Zhenmian’s hand, and led her back to their seats.

If Jiang Zhenmian had turned around at that moment, she would have seen the person following closely behind, their eyes burning with intense longing and greed.

They ate a little, but the melting ice had diluted their drinks, making them less enjoyable.

Jiang Zhenmian hesitated, then finally said, “It’s really too expensive. Let’s not come to bars anymore. It’s not even that fun.”

Gu Zhibai chuckled. “Is that so? I find it quite amusing watching you rack your brain trying to come up with excuses.”

“I already know I was wrong!” Jiang Zhenmian clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture. “Sister, please forgive me!”

“Hmm, then you can pay off your debt with a hundred kisses,” Gu Zhibai said with a smile.

“But last time, you still owed me ninety-nine kisses!” Jiang Zhenmian protested.

“Exactly! We’ll just cancel each other out. You still owe me one,” Gu Zhibai said, blinking playfully.

“That’s just cheating…” Jiang Zhenmian muttered under her breath. “No canceling! I’ll pay you back. It’s just a hundred kisses, right?”

Her gaze fixed on Gu Zhibai’s rosy lips. “I’ll give you fifty tonight.”

Gu Zhibai: Huh?

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