Reborn as the Heartless Alpha - Chapter 21

Perhaps the expression on Song Yi’s face was too shocked, making Zhou Zhou take two panicked steps back.

“I’m sorry, Miss Song, I…” Zhou Zhou suddenly realized her unconscious action had crossed a line. She wanted to explain but stumbled over her words, her face filled with anxiety.

Song Yi quickly composed herself. Seeing Zhou Zhou so frightened, she inwardly scolded herself for overreacting.

She was the one who had asked Zhou Zhou for help, yet now she’d made things awkward.

“It’s fine,” Song Yi reassured with a gentle smile. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Do I have flour on my lips too?” Song Yi asked casually, as if nothing had happened.

Zhou Zhou nodded vigorously.

If Miss Song’s lips hadn’t been dusted with flour, she would never have dared to touch them. No even if there was flour, she shouldn’t have done it. Yet in that moment, she hadn’t hesitated before reaching out to wipe it away. Lips were such an intimate area; she should have thought twice.

Zhou Zhou was filled with remorse, feeling she’d betrayed Miss Song’s trust.

“What’s next?” Miss Song’s gentle voice pulled Zhou Zhou from her tangled thoughts.

Zhou Zhou blinked. She saw Miss Song’s expression had returned to normal, a faint smile playing on her lips as if that little incident hadn’t bothered her at all. The tense thread of self-reproach in Zhou Zhou’s mind suddenly loosened.

“Zhou Zhou?” Not receiving a reply, Song Yi tilted her head slightly, her gaze questioning.

“Oh! I’ll take it from here.” Zhou Zhou quickly stepped forward. Song Yi moved aside, watching as Zhou Zhou deftly divided the large dough into portions, rolling them out into thin sheets with a rolling pin before cutting them into squares.

Gradually, Zhou Zhou became fully absorbed in her task. After preparing the wrappers, she moved on to the filling.

Making the filling was usually labor-intensive chopping meat required considerable effort. But here in Miss Song’s home, it became quick and effortless. What would take manual labor half an hour, the meat grinder accomplished in seconds, producing fine minced meat.

She added a section of seasonal sweet loofah, something she’d originally included to stretch the meat but had unexpectedly improved the texture. She hoped Miss Song would enjoy it too.

Watching quietly from the side, Song Yi found the kitchen a magical place. Zhou Zhou moved with such skill it was like watching a magic show.

Curious, she moved closer when Zhou Zhou began wrapping the wontons.

Zhou Zhou paused to look at her, surprise evident in her eyes. Song Yi smiled. “Don’t mind me.”

Zhou Zhou nodded and continued, though she couldn’t focus as intently as before.

Song Yi attempted to wrap one herself, only to realize that what Zhou Zhou made look effortless in seconds felt awkward in her own hands.

Ugly!

So ugly!

Absolutely hideous!

Song Yi never imagined her confidence would be crushed by something as simple as wrapping wontons.

Suddenly, she heard a soft, sweet voice beside her. “Miss Song, like this.”

Zhou Zhou had stopped again, demonstrating the motion slowly.

Song Yi tried once more.

“Use a new wrapper,” Zhou Zhou advised. Only then did Song Yi notice the one in her hand was torn in several places, its shape distorted.

She quickly discarded it and picked up a fresh one. Under Zhou Zhou’s guidance, she finally managed to produce a passable wonton.

“Thank you.” Song Yi expressed her gratitude happily, feeling an inexplicable excitement. It was just a wrapped wonton, yet it gave her a greater sense of accomplishment than closing a multimillion-dollar project ever had.

Emotions are hard to conceal, especially when their owner makes no effort to hide them.

Zhou Zhou noticed the smile dancing at the corners of Miss Song’s eyes and brows, and she couldn’t help but feel happy too. It was strange Miss Song seemed far more easily satisfied than she had anticipated.

A simple meal from a high school cafeteria, a ¥2.50 ice cream, even an unremarkable little wonton.

Zhou Zhou loved seeing Miss Song happy. If possible, she would gladly make wontons for her for the rest of her life.

But Miss Song would eventually grow tired of them. Her current fondness was likely just due to novelty.

The last wonton took shape in Zhou Zhou’s hands, and she immediately set about boiling the broth. Once it was bubbling, she dropped the wontons in and seasoned them, carefully separating the leftovers from the morning batch from the freshly made ones.

Remembering Miss Song’s remark about not having eaten enough earlier, Zhou Zhou served her a large bowl, while she herself settled for the unfinished portion from breakfast.

The aroma of the wontons filled Song Yi with contentment perhaps because she had contributed to making them.

Just as Zhou Zhou was about to carry both bowls out barehanded, Song Yi stopped her in time. “Zhou Zhou, there are heat-resistant gloves over there.”

They were pink, likely left behind by the previous cook, who must have had a girlish heart.

With an amused smile, Song Yi watched as Zhou Zhou froze in place. She walked over, picked up the gloves, and helped her put them on herself.

Zhou Zhou didn’t dare move a muscle, even letting Miss Song lift her hands for her.

Her mind went blank as Miss Song carefully slid the gloves onto her hands.

“All done.” Song Yi smiled in satisfaction.

With the gloves on, Zhou Zhou carried the bowls out, no longer feeling the scalding heat of the freshly cooked wontons but her heart burned fiercely.

She didn’t understand. Was it that Miss Song had no sense of boundaries, or was it that she herself lacked awareness of them? One moment, she felt presumptuous; the next, overly sensitive.

When she turned back, Miss Song was already bringing out the other bowl without gloves, her palms flushed red.

Song Yi didn’t notice Zhou Zhou’s complicated gaze. She set the bowl down and went to rinse her hands under cold water at the kitchen sink.

So hot. She was glad she had helped Zhou Zhou with the gloves. Otherwise, it would have been Zhou Zhou’s hands burning. She could handle it, but the thought of Zhou Zhou’s fair, delicate skin getting scalded unsettled her.

After washing her hands, she shook them dry lightly and noticed two cups by the sink with just a little water left. She refilled them both and carried them back to the living room.

Zhou Zhou was standing by the table, waiting, it seemed, for her to sit first. Two porcelain spoons had already been placed in the bowls.

“Go ahead and sit. At home, you can relax a little,” Song Yi said with a smile. But Zhou Zhou only sat down after she did.

Song Yi didn’t press the issue. If Zhou Zhou was more comfortable this way, then so be it.

Compared to the small coffee table earlier, the dining table in the living room was much more spacious rectangular, putting more distance between them. The warm yellow light overhead had also been replaced with a brighter white.

Song Yi noted these changes, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on how she felt about them. She picked up the glass beside her and drained it in one go, then noticed another cup nearby. She stood and handed it to Zhou Zhou.

Zhou Zhou was flustered, rising to her feet.

Song Yi pressed her lips together, they still carried a faint taste of flour. “I just refilled the cup you were using earlier.”

After placing the glass in front of Zhou Zhou, Song Yi turned back to her seat, completely unaware of the astonishment in Zhou Zhou’s eyes.

Was this the same glass she had used earlier?

Zhou Zhou lowered her head and examined it repeatedly, confirming that the glass she had used before wasn’t just frosted but also had intricate carvings. The one in front of her now had no carvings.

Nervously, she glanced across the table at Miss Song and saw that the glass she had used earlier was now on the other side.

The water inside had already been finished by Miss Song.

Noticing the gaze from across the table, Song Yi also looked up, only to find Zhou Zhou burying her head in her wontons, not meeting her eyes.

She shook her head with a faint smile, she was being too paranoid.

Song Yi continued eating her wontons, completely oblivious to the storm of emotions raging inside Zhou Zhou at that moment.

A misunderstanding yes, it was just a misunderstanding. Zhou Zhou repeated this to herself.

“These wontons taste a bit different from the ones this morning,” Song Yi remarked after eating a few, pausing as she spoke. Across from her, Zhou Zhou looked up, her eyes filled with inexplicable unease and fear.

Song Yi’s smile froze. She guessed that her opinion mattered a great deal to Zhou Zhou at the moment, hence the nervousness.

“But they’re even better than the ones this morning,” Song Yi added, her lips curving back into a smile. She was telling the truth, and her tone was firm.

Yet, Zhou Zhou’s expression didn’t seem to relax.

“Is there something else that hasn’t been settled?” Song Yi set down her spoon and asked. “You can tell me if there’s any problem.”

Her words were sincere. Zhou Zhou looked at her, hesitating several times, but in the end, she only shook her head lightly.

Zhou Zhou simply couldn’t bring herself to say it.

If she did, Miss Song might feel embarrassed, or even find it hard to accept. Better to let this little misunderstanding remain a secret and be forgotten.

After they both finished dinner and tidied up, Song Yi suggested Zhou Zhou return to her room first, take a bath, and rest well. She reassured her not to stress too much about being the villa’s housekeeper, she could take her time adjusting.

Zhou Zhou went upstairs first and noticed Miss Song still sitting on the living room sofa. She didn’t ask any questions.

Miss Song’s private life wasn’t something she had the right or the position to inquire about.

Back in her room, as she unpacked her travel bag, she received a text from Miss Song.

[You can use everything in the room directly.]

Zhou Zhou stared at the message for a few seconds before finally replying with a simple “Thank you.”

Miss Song was truly a generous employer. She would work hard to repay her kindness.

After changing into slippers and organizing her clothes, Zhou Zhou planned to put them in the wardrobe. When she opened it, she was surprised to find it filled with beautiful outfits all summer clothes, neatly hung on wooden hangers and emitting a faint fragrance.

Silently, Zhou Zhou placed the clothes draped over her wrist back into her travel bag. They would look out of place in this wardrobe.

Gazing at the array of lovely dresses and skirts, she recalled Miss Song’s earlier message she could use everything in the room. Did that include these clothes?

Like solving a reading comprehension question, Zhou Zhou repeatedly analyzed the sentence.

Perhaps because Miss Song was wealthy, her housekeeper couldn’t appear too shabby.

Finally, Zhou Zhou reached into the wardrobe, carefully examining each dress and skirt.

Adolescence is the age of beauty, yet Zhou Zhou had always only envied other girls for their bright and stylish clothes. She was well aware of her circumstances survival alone was a struggle, so she rarely indulged in such fantasies. Having a school uniform to wear was already a blessing. Only once, at eighteen, had she dared to dream of owning a beautiful dress. Sadly, she didn’t even have the money to buy herself one.

She didn’t even know her exact birthday. The director of the orphanage had told her that the day she was admitted was her birthday.

Zhou Zhou’s fingers brushed against a cherry-red spaghetti-strap dress. The fabric was smooth and soft to the touch, almost like a nightgown.

Everything before her felt like a dream too beautiful to be real. But could she truly have it?

Her heart pounded as she traced the hem of the dress.

“Zhou Zhou.” Song Yi’s voice came from outside the door, accompanied by a knock.

Zhou Zhou snapped out of her daze. It was Miss Song’s voice. She quickly withdrew her hand from the dress and hurried to open the door.

Miss Song stood outside, her smile radiant, as if something wonderful had happened.

Zhou Zhou felt her heart race even faster.

“Did I disturb your rest?” Song Yi asked apologetically.

Zhou Zhou shook her head. “Please come in, Miss Song.”

Song Yi hesitated for a moment before stepping into what was now Zhou Zhou’s space. She had intended to discuss something important, but her gaze caught the open wardrobe, and she instinctively walked toward it.

Zhou Zhou held her breath, an inexplicable sense of guilt washing over her, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. Nervously, she followed.

When Song Yi reached the wardrobe and saw the array of dresses inside, she secretly sighed in relief. At least the original scumbag Alpha had done something useful these pre-prepared clothes were perfect for Zhou Zhou. She had already told Zhou Zhou that everything in this room was hers to use freely, so there was no need to worry about seeming too deliberate if she bought Zhou Zhou new clothes.

“This look like they’d suit you well.”

Zhou Zhou’s head jerked up, her heart skipping a beat.

Song Yi tilted her head slightly, smiling at her. “Especially that cherry-red one.”

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