Not a Scummy Alpha, But a Sweet Puppy (Transmigration Into A Novel) - Chapter 8

The morning passed without incident. Jiang Zhenmian hadn’t slacked off once, working with the intensity of a high school senior cramming for the college entrance exams.

She remembered reading a research report on why people enjoy playing video games. A major reason was the immediate positive feedback: level up, get stronger, and see that strength reflected in visible numerical values.

For Jiang Zhenmian, the chance to spend time with Gu Zhibai was like a carrot dangling before her. Moreover, in the tight-knit work environment, being timid, lacking both skills and connections, would doom her to perpetual obscurity.

By noon, she finally stood up from her desk and stretched.

Sister Lin smiled and called out, “Come on, I’ll take you to the cafeteria. Our company cafeteria is amazing, just as good as any restaurant outside!”

“Really?” Jiang Zhenmian’s eyes lit up slightly.

She considered herself a mediocre foodie, but she had a particular fondness for hoarding food. Whether it was staples or snacks, she always kept at least a box of everything on hand, so she could satisfy any craving instantly.

Though Jiang Zhenmian wasn’t a picky eater, her craving for delicious food was deeply ingrained in her bones.

Ironically, the most delicious food in her mind wasn’t anything fancy, but a simple meat-filled bun. Pork filling, with a perfect balance of lean and fatty meat, plump and white.

The orphanage didn’t have the resources for such luxuries. Occasionally, they’d serve pork and cabbage buns, generously oiled during preparation, making them irresistibly fragrant. A single bite of the steaming bun was worth more than anything else in the world.

To Jiang Zhenmian, this was the ultimate delicacy.

Even as she grew up, earned her own money, and tasted countless gourmet dishes, the meat-filled bun remained firmly at the top of her list, unmatched by any other food.

The cafeteria had only three serving windows: one for staple foods like buns, steamed buns, and rice, and the other two for dishes. Mapo tofu, shredded pork with garlic sauce, sweet and
sour pork with pineapple, broccoli with mushrooms, asparagus with shrimp, and other dishes were neatly arranged in succession.

Without hesitation, Jiang Zhenmian ordered two pork-filled buns, a portion of asparagus with shrimp, and a portion of diced chicken with mushrooms. Tomato and egg soup was free, so she ladled herself a bowl.

Before eating, she snapped a photo and posted it on her social media: “Lunch for today, acquired!”

The tender mushrooms perfectly balanced the dry chicken breast, creating a delicious synergy where one plus one equaled more than two. The crisp, sweet asparagus and succulent shrimp were a vibrant, mouthwatering combination. The tomato soup was decent, but the meat buns were simply divine.

It was hard to say if there was some kind of filter enhancing the experience, but in Jiang Zhenmian’s mind, the meat buns were the undisputed MVP of her lunch. Though she didn’t have a huge appetite, she always enjoyed eating until she was stuffed, until she couldn’t possibly eat another bite. She nearly finished the entire plate, leaving only a couple of pieces behind.

After finishing her meal, Jiang Zhenmian sat in her chair for a while, resting until she felt ready to move. Sister Lin had already left to take her afternoon nap.

Jiang Zhenmian rubbed her full stomach and returned to her workstation. She wasn’t one for afternoon naps. Yawning, she pulled out a bottle of moisturizing eye drops from her bag. Tilting her head back, she used her left hand to hold her eyelid open and gently squeezed the bottle with her right hand.

The cool drops landed in her eye, and her eyelid reflexively closed, forcing the excess liquid to spill down her cheek.

Repeating the process for her right eye, Jiang Zhenmian closed both eyes, waiting for the initial discomfort to pass. She looked like someone silently crying after a heartbreak, gazing up at the sky.

Gu Zhibai finished reviewing the documents and exhaled. Just as she was about to head to lunch, she glanced sideways out of habit and saw Jiang Zhenmian sitting there, silently weeping.

Jiang Zhenmian looked young, her skin soft and delicate, her lips naturally rosy even without lipstick. Now, with stray strands of hair framing her forehead and the corners of her eyes reddened, she looked utterly pitiful.

What’s wrong? Did she cry because she felt wronged?

Is she really this fragile?

The office was mostly empty, most employees taking their midday naps. On the screen, Jiang Zhenmian wiped her face with the back of her hand, then picked up her phone and fiddled with it for a moment.

The screen of Gu Zhibai’s phone, resting on her desk, lit up. Jiang Zhenmian’s message floated across the screen: “The company cafeteria is so delicious, Sister! I finished two steamed buns, two servings of vegetables, and a bowl of soup!”

Gu Zhibai silently tightened her grip on her phone. After a long pause, she murmured, “What a show.”

Her lunch had been brought up by her assistant and placed on the coffee table next to her desk.

Rice, lotus root slices, broccoli, and fish fillets. A balanced meal with both meat and vegetables, and it looked decent enough.

Gu Zhibai picked up her chopsticks, picked up a slice of lotus root, and chewed it for a long time. “It’s just okay. Nothing special.”

Unlike Jiang Zhenmian, Gu Zhibai came from a truly wealthy family. Though she might have lacked emotional fulfillment growing up, she had never wanted for material comforts.

“Food should be prepared with utmost care, and ingredients should be meticulously selected.” Gu Zhibai was notoriously picky about her meals. Sometimes she had the family’s servants deliver lunch, other times she ordered from various restaurants, and only occasionally ate in the company cafeteria, settling for a quick and simple meal.

Gu Zhibai expressionlessly finished her lunch and was about to resume work.
But as she opened her computer, the image of Jiang Zhenmian secretly wiping away tears flashed through her mind. She paused, then opened WeChat.

“How’s it going? Is work going smoothly this morning?”

As soon as she sent the message, a “typing…” indicator appeared above.

“The colleagues are all so nice! Sister Lin from the next cubicle even took me to the cafeteria. Everyone’s been really helpful. I was so scared before, because I’d heard online that the workplace is so complicated and intimidating, but I haven’t experienced any of that at all!”

“I refined the details a bit this morning. Sister, what do you think of this color scheme?”

Two screenshots arrived: a simply colored phoenix with a sharply pointed, delicately detailed golden-red tail feather.

All those compliments? Guess I was just being delusional. Gu Zhibai’s gaze turned cold. She felt her instinctive kindness and softheartedness had been misplaced, and a flicker of annoyance rose within her, not at others, but at herself.

I don’t even know if this person is good or bad. How could I lower my guard so easily and worry about someone who’s likely an accomplice to a scoundrel?

Besides, I’m carrying secrets of my own.

Isn’t the mistake I made through foolishness and gullibility serious enough?

Let her learn a lesson at work. Maybe then she’ll stop acting all clingy and sentimental, just like that scum. Gu Zhibai thought bitterly, replying with a casual, “That’s good,” before tossing her phone aside, out of sight, out of mind.

Jiang Zhenmian, however, didn’t perceive Gu Zhibai’s coldness. Her mind was racing with one thought: She asked how I was doing! She must care about me!

The mere thought filled her with energy, as if she’d downed ten bottles of energy drinks and candy bars, rivaling a super serum injection.

Jiang Zhenmian grabbed her stylus and began writing furiously, sweat beading on her forehead.

The day passed quietly, with no one causing trouble and minimal interaction with her colleagues.
But the next morning, as she went to get water, she was stopped again, this time by Brother Su, the deputy team leader from the neighboring group.

He raised his sharply arched eyebrows, a disquieting smile playing on his thin cheeks as he held out a ceramic mug to Jiang Zhenmian. “Xiao Jiang, do you know how to make coffee?”

Jiang Zhenmian clicked her tongue inwardly. Here we go again. Clutching her glass water bottle, she stood awkwardly, forcing her voice to remain polite. “I’m sorry, Brother Su, I’ve never drunk coffee. I only drink plain water, so I don’t know how to make it.”

Brother Su seemed to ignore her polite refusal, thrusting his arm forward until it nearly bumped into Jiang Zhenmian. “The coffee’s in the cabinet next to the water dispenser. Just grab a packet for me.”

In her previous life, Jiang Zhenmian would have had a sharp retort ready. But now, as a newcomer with no portfolio to back her up, she couldn’t afford to make waves. The manager wouldn’t be pleased and certainly wouldn’t take her side, likely seeing her as a troublemaker who couldn’t fit in.

She had taken this job for Gu Zhibai’s sake. She couldn’t let this mess things up.

The corners of Jiang Zhenmian’s lips curved upward, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Sure, it’s no big deal. Just a little favor.”

“You waited for me to get up, you bald, limbless freak! I’ll teach you a lesson. My ten years of trash-talking in Summoner’s Rift weren’t for nothing.”

Aside from Brother Su, the others didn’t react much, mostly observing the scene like spectators at a play.

When Jiang Zhenmian returned to her seat, Sister Lin tugged at her sleeve and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t take it to heart. Brother Su has relatives in the Management Department. He’s got connections. Everyone here has to watch their step around him. Getting him a couple of drinks isn’t a big deal. Just bear with it.”

A weary smile touched Jiang Zhenmian’s lips as she replied softly, “I know. Thank you, Sister Lin. I won’t let it bother me.”

Sister Lin offered a few more platitudes, but they rang hollow. Jiang Zhenmian hummed in acknowledgment, sat stiffly in her chair for a while, then finally opened her computer, her face still clouded with melancholy.

Gu Zhibai observed the entire scene with an impassive expression. Yet her fingers tapped open WeChat. The message remained unchanged, still showing only that the other person had left for the office.

Yesterday, they had been excitedly telling her about their new workspace and talking about buying decorations. Why were they so down today?

This minor setback was less than one percent of the cold reception she’d faced when she first took over the company. What a little kid, Gu Zhibai thought, her emotional resilience is so weak.

Frowning slightly, Gu Zhibai tossed her phone aside in frustration and immersed herself in her work.

Every day was filled with drawing and endless tasks, leaving her barely any time to rest. Jiang Zhenmian even felt they were communicating less frequently than before.

When she wasn’t working, Jiang Zhenmian had plenty of free time. She’d often share interesting videos, subtly probing Gu Zhibai’s preferences. Now, sending such things during work hours would be a blatant admission of slacking off.

Jiang Zhenmian resisted as long as she could, but eventually couldn’t help herself. She secretly sent a message: “Sister, I’m secretly chatting with you at work. Will the Manager get angry…?”

Gu Zhibai received the message, pursed her lips, and couldn’t suppress the curve of her lips. What a goofball, she thought fondly, her earlier irritation instantly vanishing.

“Don’t worry, my position is higher than hers. She has no authority over me.”

Jiang Zhenmian: “Then what should I do?” Innocent.jpg

“Just pray for the best,” Gu Zhibai said.

“How could this happen?!” Jiang Zhenmian exclaimed.
She was secretly gloating when two sharp knocks sounded on her desk. Jiang Zhenmian looked up to see Brother Su, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline, standing beside her. “Xiao Jiang, what’s got you so cheerful? You seem to have some free time. Perfect! I have a file for you. Just revise the drawings according to the plan.”

Jiang Zhenmian: Huh?

Forcing a strained smile, she replied, “Brother Su, I’m still new here and not familiar with everything. What if I mess it up? The client will be unhappy. It’d be safer if you handled it yourself.”

Brother Su’s expression darkened. “Xiao Jiang, this is a chance for you to gain work experience. Besides, I’ll double-check the final product to ensure there are no mistakes.”

“You’re fresh out of the gate and don’t know anything. Isn’t this the perfect opportunity to learn?”

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