Reborn as the Heartless Alpha - Chapter 40

Zhou Zhou remained silent for a long while, and Song Yi began to feel a twinge of anxiety. “Do you not like C University?”

Or did she simply not want to attend the same school as her?

Song Yi recalled her previous life. Whenever she attended company team-building events as the boss, the atmosphere would invariably cool down. She would usually make a brief appearance, offer a few official words about future success, and leave early. The moment she stepped out of the private room, cheers would erupt within three seconds. She couldn’t hear the specifics, but she could guess they were celebrating her departure—perhaps even venting about her. At the time, she hadn’t cared much.

But now, facing Zhou Zhou’s silence, she cared inexplicably. In a way, their relationship was that of subordinate and superior, and no one in the world truly wants to see their boss outside of work. She worried Zhou Zhou’s silence was merely an attempt to save her “boss’s” face.

“It’s okay; we can go look at F University or J University instead.” Song Yi proactively steered away from her own school. They were both excellent institutions. Even if Zhou Zhou wasn’t by her side, Song Yi could arrange for people on those campuses to look after her.

But truthfully, she would only feel truly at ease if Zhou Zhou was with her.

Putting Zhou Zhou’s wishes first, she asked gently, “Is there anything you want to know about those two schools?”

“Let’s just go to C University,” Zhou Zhou answered with her head down. She wanted to be close to Ms. Song. Even if they couldn’t meet often, just being able to catch a glimpse of her on campus—even from afar—would be enough.

“C University?” Song Yi was pleasantly surprised. Fearing she had misheard, she confirmed once more.

“Yes,” Zhou Zhou nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Song.”

Before heading to the next stop, Song Yi bought another small bag of tangerines from the same shop. She held the door for Zhou Zhou, letting her into the backseat first before getting in herself.

Zhou Zhou’s orange-pink gauze dress spread softly across the seat. Song Yi didn’t notice she was sitting on a corner of it. Zhou Zhou saw it but said nothing, simply sitting a bit straighter.

The driver started the car toward C University, thinking to himself: Wasn’t Ms. Song unwilling to go to C University before? She barely attends classes, only showing up for exams. Why the sudden change of heart today?

Song Yi’s motion sickness returned. This time, she peeled a tangerine, ate half, and held the other half—peel and all—near her nose, closing her eyes to inhale the scent.

The driver noticed this and grew even more suspicious. Ms. Song never used to get motion sickness. Is she faking it to get Ms. Zhou’s attention?

Deciding to play along with what he perceived as his boss’s plan, the driver suggested, “Listening to music can help with motion sickness.” He tossed a pair of headphones from the front. “I just bought these and haven’t used them yet. They might not be high-end, so please make do.”

“Thank you,” Zhou Zhou said. She unwrapped the white wired headphones—a common style—and plugged them into her phone. She put the right earbud in her own ear and began scrolling through her music. She had been listening to instrumental tracks lately; they were safe and wouldn’t clash with Ms. Song’s tastes.

Her thumb hovered over the playlist and finally stopped. She hit play.

She glanced at Ms. Song, who was leaning back with her eyes closed, her face turned toward Zhou Zhou to avoid the sun. Ms. Song looked miserable.

“Ms. Song, do you want to listen to music to distract yourself?” She reached out and gently nudged Song Yi’s shoulder.

Song Yi opened her eyes, popped the remaining tangerine into her mouth, and nodded weakly. She was too nauseous to speak.

Zhou Zhou gently tucked the other earbud into Song Yi’s ear. A soothing, melodic instrumental track began to play, it sounded like a young girl whispering her secrets. To Song Yi, it felt like a gentle breeze blowing into her heart. She closed her eyes again, clutching her bag of tangerines, and drifted into a light sleep accompanied by the scent of citrus and the music.

Zhou Zhou was incredibly nervous, especially when she saw Ms. Song’s eyes light up at the melody. She was terrified Ms. Song would ask for the title.

Fortunately, she didn’t.

Inside the car, the air conditioning circulated a cool breeze. Zhou Zhou lowered her head and stole a look at her phone screen. The title of the track was: “The Breeze Rises, I Like You.”

Zhou Zhou felt she must have been incredibly bold to play this track—one that almost glaringly exposed her heart. What if Ms. Song had heard it before? What if she realized?

Even if Ms. Song had stated she was done with Ms. You, there were countless other possibilities for her future. Zhou Zhou couldn’t see herself in any of them.

She was so preoccupied that she forgot she had the music on a loop. By the time they reached their destination, the song had played over ten times.

The driver parked at Song Yi’s usual spot on campus. “We’re here.”

Zhou Zhou quickly paused the music and tried to return the headphones.

“Keep them, Ms. Zhou,” the driver grinned. “Consider it thanks for buying me water earlier. You’re the first person around Ms. Song to notice a ‘nobody’ like me.”

Zhou Zhou thanked him sincerely and tucked them away before waking Song Yi.

“Ms. Song, we’ve arrived.”

Song Yi woke up rubbing her temples, blinking against the light. The driver thought to himself: The power of love is truly great.

As she got out, Song Yi realized she had been sitting on Zhou Zhou’s dress the whole way. She apologized and told the driver, “Feel free to walk around and grab lunch. I’ll call you around four.”

They stood before the dormitory building. The original “Scum Alpha” never really lived here, only using it for naps or to scout for “prey,” given the many beautiful girls at C University.

“Is this where you stay?” Zhou Zhou asked, looking up at the blue building. As she looked up, her ponytail shifted, revealing the flesh-colored scent-blocking patch on her nape.

“Yes,” Song Yi replied, quickly averting her eyes.

She led Zhou Zhou inside. After registering at the front desk, they took the elevator up. “Our room is on the top floor. It’s a six-person dorm,” Song Yi explained. “Though I almost never stay here.”

They reached the room. Song Yi knocked, waiting a full minute before a girl with a somewhat messy appearance opened the door.

The roommate looked at Song Yi with an ambiguous smirk. “Song Yi, which department is the junior from this time? Is two hours enough? Wait a sec, I’ll wash my face, change, and head out.”

The roommates were used to “Song Yi” bringing people back for “indescribable” activities at noon. They usually cleared out because Song Yi was wealthy and influential, and she compensated them financially for the inconvenience.

Song Yi: “…”

Zhou Zhou felt something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Why was the roommate leaving? And what did “Is two hours enough” mean?

While Zhou Zhou stood puzzled, Song Yi wiped down her desk. “Have a seat.” She introduced the layout of the dorm. Seeing Zhou Zhou’s fascinated expression, she asked about her background.

“When I was in high school, it was a sixteen-person dorm,” Zhou Zhou admitted.

Song Yi was stunned. She thought six was a lot; how did sixteen people even live together?

“I’m off! Have fun with the pretty girl, Song Yi!” The roommate finished packing and left, leaving the two of them alone in the enclosed space.

“Can I see your bed, Ms. Song?” Zhou Zhou asked curiously. The beds all had curtains drawn.

Song Yi led her over. The curtains were a double-layered black fabric. When pulled back, the inner layer revealed a shimmering, dark galaxy pattern.

Zhou Zhou gasped in admiration, but then she noticed some blurred, dark objects scattered in the corner of the bed. “What are those?” she asked, leaning in to look.

Song Yi’s heart hammered. She recognized instantly what those “toys” likely were, left behind by the original host. “Zhou Zhou!” she cried out in panic.

She grabbed Zhou Zhou’s arm, and in her haste, they both tumbled backward onto the bed. The curtains fell shut, sealing them in darkness save for a sliver of light at their feet.

The ambient “galaxy” provided no real light, only a heavy, atmospheric tension. Song Yi gripped Zhou Zhou’s wrist, her breathing ragged in the dark. Zhou Zhou froze, her heart thumping against her ribs.

Just then, the campus radio began playing a soft, familiar melody. Zhou Zhou’s body turned rigid, her face burning in the shadows.

It sounded incredibly familiar to Song Yi. “Zhou Zhou, this is the song from the car.”

Song Yi finally asked the question Zhou Zhou dreaded: “What is it called?”

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