Reborn as the Heartless Alpha - Chapter 43

After roughly confirming this suspicion in her heart, Song Yi quickly pulled her hand out of Zhou Zhou’s grasp.

Zhou Zhou’s hand, still holding the damp tissue, froze in mid-air. She remained dazed for a long while, realizing that her previous actions might have been too intimate and lacked proper boundaries. She wanted to say sorry, but the image of Ms. Song telling her she didn’t always have to apologize flashed through her mind. She swallowed the words and instinctively pulled back to her own seat, creating distance between them.

Fearing that Ms. Song might get splashed by the high-temperature broth again, Zhou Zhou found the control panel and turned the heat down.

Song Yi watched Zhou Zhou’s careful movements in silence, feeling even more frustrated with herself. She was the one who had decided to eat here without clarifying what the “themed event” was, and she was the one who had inexplicably jerked her hand away just now. Zhou Zhou obviously had good intentions; how could she not worry that the sensitive girl would overthink or misunderstand her reaction?

Attempting an instinctive rescue, she added a heap of food to Zhou Zhou’s bowl. “You were hungry just now, eat more.”

Zhou Zhou instantly flashed back to the moment her stomach growled on the cable bridge. She lowered her head and ate in silence. Every time she reached for food, Ms. Song managed to beat her to it, even handling all the blanching and dipping herself.

It was only when she was nearly full that Zhou Zhou realized these were tasks she, as a subordinate, should be doing. She stood up with a “swish.”

Song Yi had just picked up a slice of white radish with her long chopsticks. Seeing Zhou Zhou stand up, she placed the radish in Zhou Zhou’s bowl and said, “Eating some radish at the end can help cut through the richness of the meal.”

Zhou Zhou’s brain went blank for another second before she remembered what she wanted to say. “Ms. Song, I’ve had enough. Let me cook the rest for you. Just tell me what you’d like to eat.”

Song Yi’s brow furrowed imperceptibly. Zhou Zhou had gone back to using the formal “You” (Nin) again.

Zhou Zhou seemed to realize this as well and corrected herself. “Ms. Song, let me help you.”

Having let her boss serve her for so long, Zhou Zhou’s sense of crisis was peaking; she felt like she was being paid for doing nothing.

“Zhou Zhou, today is Saturday. I brought you out to play, not for work. You don’t have to treat me like your boss or superior.”

“Okay, Ms. Song,” Zhou Zhou agreed readily, but her eyes remained fixed longingly on the chopsticks in Song Yi’s hand.

Song Yi put herself in Zhou Zhou’s shoes and finally understood her unease. She reached out and handed the long chopsticks to Zhou Zhou, making a symbolic request: “Help me cook some more lettuce slices then.”

“Okay.” Hearing that she had work to do, the tension finally left Zhou Zhou’s face, replaced by a slight smile.

Song Yi rested her cheek in her palm, her elbow on the table. If a server looked over now, they surely wouldn’t mistake them for a couple anymore, right?

However, they didn’t call for a server, and no one came in, giving them plenty of private space as a presumed “couple.”

The challenge was passed, and the couple’s set meal was half-eaten. Explaining now would be futile, so Song Yi figured she might as well let the misunderstanding stand.

While the new lettuce slices tumbled in the pot, Zhou Zhou used a strainer to scoop out other cooked food and put it into Song Yi’s bowl. Song Yi, having reconciled with the situation, ate with a peaceful mind.

When she was about 80% full, Song Yi called a halt and told Zhou Zhou she didn’t need to do any more. Zhou Zhou turned off the heat.

Song Yi pressed a protruding red button on the table. Shortly after, a server entered—not the one who led them in, but equally beaming. “Are you two ladies finished?”

Song Yi nodded. “Where do we settle the bill?”

“This way.” The server opened the hidden door. The counter was inside.

Stepping through the hidden door, Zhou Zhou discovered a whole new world. The main restaurant was spacious with dozens of tables, no roses on the tables, and no deliberate separation of guests; there were men, women, young, and old alike.

“Cash or card?” the cashier asked with a smile.

Song Yi wasn’t sure if she had enough cash in her wallet, so she said, “Card.”

She pulled a bank card from her wallet, but Zhou Zhou beat her to it. “Hello, I’ll pay in cash.”

“It was 332 before the discount, and 166 after.” Zhou Zhou had brought money today, tucked behind her phone case. She had two 100-yuan bills, which was more than enough for lunch.

Song Yi didn’t fight her for it. She watched with a smile as Zhou Zhou neatly folded the 34 yuan in change and tucked it back behind the transparent phone case—the one that had come with the phone when Song Yi gave it to her.

The second day after Zhou Zhou stayed, Song Yi had given her a bank card for the villa’s daily expenses and advanced her a month’s salary, fearing she might need to spend money. She hadn’t expected the money to end up being spent back on her.

“I feel quite embarrassed, letting you treat me to a meal again.” Song Yi tapped her fingers on the counter, looking at Zhou Zhou with a smile.

Zhou Zhou blushed under her gaze and whispered, “Compared to how much you’ve helped me, this is insignificant.”

Song Yi squinted her eyes and saw that Zhou Zhou also had her ID card tucked behind the phone case. The photo was of her in a dark red school uniform with a high ponytail. Her face was clear and beautiful, looking a bit startled by the camera—a rare, undisturbed beauty.

When Zhou Zhou was about to put the phone away, Song Yi suddenly pressed down on her wrist. “Zhou Zhou, let me take you to open a bank card of your own. Carrying cash is inconvenient sometimes. I’ll deposit a sum for you first.”

“No need.” Zhou Zhou looked slightly surprised and declined with a blush. “I want to wait until I’ve worked a bit longer and saved some money to do it myself. You don’t need to trouble yourself, Ms. Song.”

Song Yi felt Zhou Zhou’s refusal was understandable and didn’t push the matter.

The cashier said enviously, “You two ladies have such a good relationship.” Then she looked at Zhou Zhou. “Sometimes, you have to give the other person the chance to be good to you.”

The words weren’t entirely explicit, leaving Zhou Zhou a bit confused. Song Yi, however, knowing they had just eaten a “couple’s meal,” understood perfectly.

Fearing the cashier might say more and reveal the mix-up to Zhou Zhou, Song Yi gripped her wrist and said, “Let’s go.”

Zhou Zhou didn’t overthink it and followed her toward the main exit. Just then, the server who had led them in through the other door caught up with them.

“Wait, you two!”

Zhou Zhou turned back first, and Song Yi couldn’t very well ignore her, so she turned as well and let go of Zhou Zhou’s hand.

The server enthusiastically handed over a single rose. “A rose for the two of you. I hope every day is as wonderful as today.” After saying this, she even made a finger-heart gesture.

Song Yi was incredibly nervous, but Zhou Zhou didn’t seem to suspect anything. After taking the rose, she even made a finger-heart back to the server. Although she didn’t quite understand the sentiment, she responded gently. The rose tilted with her movement, and the water droplets on the petals slid off, blooming across the polished floor.

“Thank you,” Zhou Zhou said after making the heart.

Song Yi watched from the side, her nervousness dissolving into a heart that felt utterly soft.

Zhou Zhou was so pure and wonderful. If the person standing next to her right now wasn’t her, but the original Scum Alpha or some other villain, Zhou Zhou would be in grave danger.

“Ms. Song, let’s go.” Having said goodbye to the server, Zhou Zhou turned back to see Ms. Song seemingly dazed. She lightly touched Song Yi’s shoulder to snap her out of it.

Song Yi recovered instantly, glanced at the rose in Zhou Zhou’s hand, and said, “Let’s go.”

The two went downstairs through the other door and found the bicycle parked in the shade.

At two in the afternoon, it was far too hot. Song Yi didn’t want to move. Zhou Zhou held the rose, which was starting to wilt in the intense heat, and used her hand to shield it from the sun.

This image reminded Song Yi of the rose in The Little Prince—the delicate, thorny flower that made the Little Prince leave his planet, yet was the one he couldn’t let go of, eventually choosing to return to.

The Little Prince’s love and his meticulous care made that rose unique; it made her his rose.

If Zhou Zhou were a rose, she would currently be a rose without thorns. Song Yi remembered that she was the one who found a way to keep Zhou Zhou by her side. They spent every day together; did that count as establishing a “special connection”? One day in the future, Zhou Zhou’s parents and fiancée would appear, and that would be her final destination. But Zhou Zhou had also spent this time with her. What was her relationship with Zhou Zhou? What kind of existence were they to each other?

Song Yi was used to thinking about economic problems; she wasn’t particularly good at pondering these philosophical, soul-searching questions.

To her, human relationships used to fall into two blunt categories: ally or enemy, and whether there was mutual economic benefit. Beyond that, any relationship involving emotion had never been within her scope of thought—at least not in the real world. When reading novels, she occasionally let her thoughts wander, but usually without reaching a conclusion.

Song Yi looked up at the sun hanging high in the sky and said to Zhou Zhou, “It’s too hot. Can we go sit in a dessert shop for a bit?”

“Yes,” Zhou Zhou replied, looking down as the moisture on the rose slowly evaporated.

Song Yi found a nearby cold drink shop that made fresh fruit beverages.

She saw cherries on the menu but looked past them, ordering a “Grape Peach Duo”—obviously a blend of grapes and peaches. Zhou Zhou looked at the price list and fell into a deep thought; she didn’t seem to have enough money left. Song Yi simply ordered a “Mango Pomelo Yogurt” as well, swiped her card, and pulled Zhou Zhou to a seat near the air conditioner.

When the drinks arrived, Song Yi asked, “Which one do you want?”

Zhou Zhou paused. “The mango one.” She assumed the first one was what Ms. Song wanted for herself, and the second was ordered directly for her and she hadn’t been asked because Song Yi feared she would refuse.

Song Yi pushed the Mango Pomelo Yogurt toward Zhou Zhou and used a spoon to scoop out the fruit pieces from her own Grape Peach Duo. Looking up, she noticed the wall behind Zhou Zhou was covered in sticky notes left by customers.

Finding it interesting, Song Yi got up to take a look. Some customers used the wall as a confession space or a “tree hollow” to vent. Most just wrote the names of the people they liked without signing their own, perhaps lacking enough courage.

Song Yi saw black pens and colorful sticky notes on the sofa by the wall. Suddenly, she wanted to write one too. She chose a blue square note. Halfway through, the pen’s ink became intermittent, but Song Yi didn’t change pens and insisted on finishing.

She searched carefully for a spot and finally stuck it at the very top.

She turned back to ask Zhou Zhou if she wanted to write one too, only to find Zhou Zhou watching her.

“Want to write something?” Song Yi handed a pen to Zhou Zhou.

Zhou Zhou took it and finished writing quickly. She didn’t hide it from Song Yi when she went to stick it up. Curious, Song Yi didn’t look away either and saw clearly what Zhou Zhou had written:

I hope Ms. Song can find her own rose.

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