Not a Scummy Alpha, But a Sweet Puppy (Transmigration Into A Novel) - Chapter 3

Being an assistant to a domineering CEO was no ordinary job. They were typically omnipotent, capable of hunting tigers in the mountains and catching turtles in the sea. Occasionally, they even moonlighted as assassins, eliminating anyone who displeased the CEO. Sometimes, they had to coerce hospital staff into illegal organ transplant deals.

For such a jack-of-all-trades, finding basic information about a random person was child’s play.

By afternoon, Jiang Zhenmian’s life story lay neatly printed in a file, detailing everything from her first day of school to her first runaway attempt. It knew her better than she knew herself.

Gu Zhiyao casually flipped through the pages, his thin lips curling into a sinister smile when he saw the words “impoverished family.” “Go make contact with her,” he said. “Judging by this, five hundred thousand should be enough.”

“I want her to be a compliant pawn, to get close to that woman Gu Zhibai. Do you understand?”

The assistant pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and delivered his classic line: “No problem.”

Back at the school cafeteria, Jiang Zhenmian finally settled on a mildly spicy maocai after a long struggle with indecision.

Jiang Zhenmian had always had a weak stomach, unable to tolerate spicy food. Even a tiny bit would give her a stomachache. But when someone craves spice, there’s no stopping them.

She was the type who craved what she couldn’t have. Once, she famously ordered hot and sour noodles without chili oil, only to add a few drops of chili oil from the condiment station herself.

That was the unwavering determination of a spice lover!

The bowl of maocai steamed, its fragrant aroma filling the air. Though labeled “mildly spicy,” it was still topped with a layer of fiery red oil. What was the difference between this portion and a lethal dose?

Jiang Zhenmian took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself, and immediately dug in with her chopsticks.

So spicy! So satisfying! So delicious!

As she ate, a few tears dripped into her bowl.
The System, confused, asked, “Host, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jiang Zhenmian said, wiping her face with the back of her hand as she chewed vigorously. “It’s just too spicy.”

She practically wolfed down the meal, her teeth grinding with ferocious intensity, as if she were chewing on the flesh of an enemy or the remnants of her vanished past.

Wow, that’s spicy.

Jiang Zhenmian finished every last bit of her bowl of food and rice. She bought a bottle of Sprite before waddling back to the dormitory with her round belly.

As she passed the sports field, a group of boys were playing basketball. Several girls sat on the steps, cheering them on.

She squinted at the scene for a moment. “Tsk, youth.”

The System, clutching a complete guide to human psychology like a desperate student cramming for an exam, frantically flipped through the familiar yet foreign textbook, searching for the knowledge points it needed.

“Host, are you envious of them?” the System asked after careful analysis. “I don’t quite understand. You’re just like them now.”

Jiang Zhenmian sighed slowly. “You’re not a corporate slave. You wouldn’t understand.”

The System: ? Fine, fine, fine.

Back in the dormitory, the curtains of the bed in the far corner by the window were still drawn, perhaps indicating the occupant was still asleep.

Jiang Zhenmian quietly slipped off her shoes and climbed into bed. She stared at the deep blue, star-patterned curtains for a long time, feeling utterly bored.

She grabbed the charger from the bedside table and plugged in her phone to give it some juice.

To be fair, this “domineering CEO and innocent white lotus” novel wasn’t as terrible as Jiang Zhenmian made it out to be. As a moderately popular work, its plot was undeniably well-crafted, delivering sweetness where it should and tugging at the heartstrings without reservation. Though it relied on tired tropes, the author’s skillful writing and immersive storytelling made it surprisingly engaging.

It was like those early Hong Kong and Taiwanese romance dramas: utterly Mary Sue, yet so saccharine and addictive.

But Jiang Zhenmian had grown accustomed to protagonists with sharp intellect and unwavering ambition, characters who thrived in complex, high-stakes settings, showcasing astonishing willpower. Some even endured broken limbs without flinching. Every supporting character, too, possessed their own unique brilliance.

Her tastes had been refined like those of a seasoned gourmand. Ordinary stories simply couldn’t capture her attention, let alone urban romances centered solely on love.

Comrade Xiao often quipped, “Love? What a load of crap.”

This phrase perfectly encapsulated her disdainful attitude toward romantic affairs.

Moreover, the novel’s characters offered not a single redeeming quality. They were the embodiment of tired stereotypes. Trying to find a glimmer of humanity in them was like staring into a pitch-black cloth; at least the latter might reveal a faint spark after your eyes adjusted.

Jiang Zhenmian recalled the subsequent plot. As minor characters, their stories were mostly glossed over. She only knew that Gu Zhibai had met the original owner of her body at an art exhibition. The original owner was a master of deception, showering Gu Zhibai with sweet words and flattery until she quickly fell head over heels in love.

The specific details of their courtship remained a mystery, as the book provided no further explanation.

Jiang Zhenmian swiftly broke up with the several girls on her list. Bored, she picked up her phone and played games until evening approached. Suddenly, her phone vibrated with a new friend request.

The System instantly chimed in, “It’s Gu Zhiyao’s assistant!”

Jiang Zhenmian immediately opened the message. This was a crucial matter that would shape her future life. Almost the instant she accepted the request, a message arrived:

“Hello, are you the artist Shan Jun? We have a commercial commission we’d like to discuss.”

Jiang Zhenmian confirmed her identity. The other party replied, “I’m also from Linshui City. If it’s convenient, I’d like to meet you at XX Cafe to discuss the details.”

Under normal circumstances, Jiang Zhenmian would have immediately assumed this was a human trafficker and refused. But these were far from normal circumstances. She agreed faster than a firecracker shooting into the sky.

The moment she agreed, the System’s long-awaited energy immediately arrived.

The sensation of receiving memories was like eating poisonous mushrooms. Her head swam and throbbed, her vision blurred into a dizzying kaleidoscope of images, like a spinning lantern.

Rubbing her temples, Jiang Zhenmian sighed, “Even the most hateful people have their pitiable aspects.”

The System pondered her words. “Are you sympathizing with the Original Host?”

“Not exactly.” Jiang Zhenmian tugged at the corner of her mouth, her voice flat. “A terrible upbringing is a reason for her downfall, not an excuse. It doesn’t absolve her of guilt.”

“Bad people may be pitiable, but they don’t deserve sympathy. Not everyone raised in such environments becomes a monster. By your logic, since I didn’t turn into a homicidal sociopath, shouldn’t the nation award me the ‘Top Ten Touching Figures of China’ award?”

The System mused, “You make a very valid point.”

“You’re like an alien seeing humans for the first time, running some kind of social experiment to study us,” Jiang Zhenmian said, amused.

The System, oblivious to her teasing, replied earnestly, “I am indeed encountering humans for the first time, but I am not an alien. According to human biological classifications, I should be categorized as artificial intelligence.”

“Impressive,” Jiang Zhenmian said, giving a thumbs-up.
“Although I don’t understand why you’re suddenly praising me, thank you,” the System said, sounding genuinely flattered.

What brand of artificial idiot is this? Jiang Zhenmian burst out laughing, her resentment toward the System fading considerably.

Why would a normal person get angry at a fool?

With her memories restored, the weight in her heart finally lifted. She felt grounded, no longer like a drifting, clueless soul.

Her corporate slave instincts kicked in, and she grabbed her digital tablet and started drawing. As a freelancer, she was a professional.

“Actually, I’m quite interested in drawing,” Jiang Zhenmian said, chatting with the System as she colored. “Hey, do you have my personal information?”

“No,” the System replied.

If it had known she was such a prickly character, would it have even bothered trying to recruit her?

“I’m an orphan, you know. Learning to paint is really expensive, at least for me. It’s a luxury hobby, and there’s no one to pay for my lessons,” Jiang Zhenmian said, selecting a brush with practiced ease. “Actually, most hobbies are money pits.”

When she worked odd jobs, she often saw kids being dragged to extracurricular classes by their parents, looking utterly miserable. It always stirred up complicated feelings in her.

What must it feel like to attend extracurricular classes? Jiang Zhenmian kept her expression neutral, forcing herself to look away and ignore the affectionate farewells.

She wasn’t jealous at all.

“Effortlessly reaping the rewards? That’s pretty sweet,” Jiang Zhenmian said, her eyes focused on her work, her hand steady, but her tone light and teasing. “Looks like I should thank you.”

Was it raining blood? The System had actually heard a thank you from its Host!

“There’s no need for formalities,” the System replied hastily. “I’m your System. These are just minor duties I’m supposed to handle.”
The System never needed rest. During its downtime, it loaded countless bizarre language-related instructional books, including Mastering Interpersonal Relationships with Ease, The Art of Language, and Common Workplace Rhetoric. It hoped to demonstrate its sincerity to its Host and bridge the gap between them.

Barring unforeseen circumstances, they were bound for life, and a harmonious relationship was essential.

Jiang Zhenmian listened to this spiel, doubling over with laughter. It had the absurd quality of a robot telling jokes.

Artwork was deeply personal, each artist possessing a unique style. Jiang Zhenmian had acquired painting techniques and the Original Host’s memories, but she couldn’t replicate the exact same works.

The brush in her hand seemed to have its own will, carrying her past experiences. The layers of vibrant colors she laid down were a distillation of her aesthetic sense and life experiences.

She communicated extensively with the client, discussing each stroke as she painted. Fortunately, the client was pleased with the changes and showered her with praise.

The moment the final payment notification arrived, the corners of Jiang Zhenmian’s tightly pressed lips twitched slightly.

Jiang Zhenmian wasn’t a serious person. When no one provoked her, her face was always adorned with a smile, and she was adept at delivering sarcastic remarks with a casual, teasing tone.

But this smile was different from her usual ones. It was relaxed, genuine, and heartfelt. If the System were to evaluate it, it would be far more sincere than the smile she wore when she had just praised herself for being amazing.

*****
The next day, Jiang Zhenmian pulled a green shirt with ink-wash floral patterns from her closet, paired it with black cargo shorts, hung her headphones around her neck, smoothed her hair in the mirror, and nodded, saying, “I look so cool.”

It took her two hours to reach the agreed-upon coffee shop, where she waited for another ten minutes. The assistant arrived precisely on time, not a minute early or late. Impressive, she thought, glancing at her phone.

The assistant, dressed in a sharp suit, pulled a contract from his briefcase and placed it before her. “You can review this first. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.”

Jiang Zhenmian didn’t immediately flip through the contract. Instead, she looked at the assistant with earnest sincerity and asked, “I just ordered. Can I treat you?”

Jiang Zhenmian: So, I should thank you then. (Thank you for putting me through hell.)

System: (having absorbed vast amounts of knowledge, including the importance of flattery and humility in human interactions, and recognizing the Host’s expression of gratitude, responded): You’re welcome!

Jiang Zhenmian: (grinning foolishly, realizing the Artificial Intelligence couldn’t understand sarcasm)

System: (completely baffled, frantically analyzing why humans laugh.)

Jiang Zhenmian: Are you going to treat me?

System: (its core processors whirring at full speed to analyze the logic behind her behavior): I get it! You’re making him pay to test him! To see if he’s truly sincere about getting you to sign the contract and seduce Gu Zhibai. You’re trying to gain the upper hand in negotiations and put psychological pressure on him!

Jiang Zhenmian: No, it’s just too expensive. I don’t have the money.

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