Reborn as the Heartless Alpha - Chapter 52

This feeling of being near-losing control made Song Yi, who was accustomed to having strong mastery over all aspects of her life, very uncomfortable. It was as if her heart had mutinied; it completely ignored her will, beating with such excessive liveliness that it left her feeling flustered and chaotic.

However, in all fairness, she didn’t hate this subtle sensation. She even felt as though she had been infused with a new sense of vitality, she simply needed a bit more time to adjust. She thought that perhaps after “transmigrating into the book,” her diet and lifestyle had become much healthier, and this powerful heartbeat was merely a signal of her body improving.

 

Once Song Yi convinced herself of this, she gradually calmed down.

 

The moment the fireworks in the sky faded, Song Yi saw a flash of disappointment in Zhou Zhou’s eyes. Then, the light inside the car dimmed. In the gloom, she could only make out the silhouette of Zhou Zhou’s profile.

 

“Zhou Zhou,” Song Yi called out softly. At the same time, she turned on her phone’s flashlight, aiming it at the front windshield.

 

Zhou Zhou turned to look over. After the initial awe of the fireworks, her expression returned to one of guilt.

 

“I’m sorry, Miss Song. I… I fell asleep and wasted your time.”

 

“It wasn’t a waste.” Song Yi gazed at Zhou Zhou. The light from the flashlight reflected off the glass and onto Zhou Zhou’s face, casting a beautiful shadow beneath her long, drooping lashes. Unable to see Zhou Zhou’s exact expression, Song Yi smiled comfortingly. “I was resting just now, too. Besides, spending time with you isn’t tedious at all.”

 

She didn’t say this just to comfort her; she truly enjoyed quietly sharing a space with Zhou Zhou. In fact, she felt that time passed quickly three hours seemed to vanish in an instant. Even though they had done nothing but sit quietly while Zhou Zhou slept, the usual sense of emptiness and meaninglessness that typically overwhelmed Song Yi during idle moments was nowhere to be found.

 

She felt an extraordinary sense of tranquility. She couldn’t help but wonder: Is it because Zhou Zhou is by my side this time?

 

Zhou Zhou looked up at her, her pupils slightly dilated in surprise at the explanation. Song Yi watched her with a smile, just as she had while the girl was sleeping.

 

Unable to withstand the gaze, Zhou Zhou looked away first, staring straight ahead. “Miss Song, it’s getting late. Shall we head back now?”

 

Song Yi remained turned slightly toward her. She noticed Zhou Zhou’s hands resting on her lap, clenching and unclenching.

 

Is she nervous or afraid? Does being in a confined space with me make her uncomfortable?

 

Song Yi remembered how her employees used to complain behind her back that her “pressure” was too strong that just being watched by her or having her walk by felt suffocating.

 

Does Zhou Zhou feel that way now?

 

Feeling a pang of annoyance and frustration at herself, Song Yi reached out and lowered the car window, letting the night breeze alleviate the tension.

 

Zhou Zhou suddenly turned her face again, but when her eyes met Song Yi’s, she instinctively dodged the gaze.

 

“It’s not late,” Song Yi said after a thought. “The amusement park is at its best at night. Let’s play for a while before we go back.”

 

She remembered how Zhou Zhou had stared longingly at the Ferris wheel amidst the fireworks. Zhou Zhou clearly wanted to ride it. Today was specifically meant to celebrate Zhou Zhou’s good grades; even if Zhou Zhou didn’t ask, how could Song Yi ignore such a small wish and just head home?

 

“…Okay,” Zhou Zhou hesitated for a moment but agreed. She almost forgot that Miss Song was likely here to “test out” a dating itinerary. Since she had slept and delayed Miss Song’s schedule, she resolved to cooperate fully.

 

After getting out of the car, they walked side-by-side toward the entrance. Song Yi bought two tickets at the booth, handed one to Zhou Zhou, and they entered the park together.

 

Along the way, they picked up a recommended project map. In the bottom right corner was a pink doodle of two small figures kissing—it was a recommendation card for couples.

 

Song Yi silently folded that corner over before handing it to Zhou Zhou to choose an activity. Zhou Zhou noticed the small movement, and a flash of gloom crossed her eyes.

 

“Choose whatever you want to play; we’ll go together,” Song Yi said.

 

She didn’t consider herself to have a romantic bone in her body and wasn’t particularly fond of “romantic” venues like amusement parks, but she figured Zhou Zhou would enjoy it.

 

In Zhou Zhou’s ears, these words took on a deeper meaning. She associated it with Miss Song’s “dream Omega.” She assumed Miss Song was asking for her opinion to speculate what the person she actually liked another Omega would enjoy.

 

Holding the map, Zhou Zhou’s finger brushed the folded corner. She cooperatively did not unfold it. After looking through the attractions, she said, “Miss Song, let’s go to the Haunted House first.”

 

Song Yi was surprised. She remembered that Zhou Zhou was quite timid, but then she thought that perhaps the girl wanted to challenge herself. Besides, with Song Yi by her side, she wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

 

“Alright, the Haunted House it is.” Song Yi decided that no matter what Zhou Zhou wanted to do tonight, she would accompany her.

 

Zhou Zhou’s choice was deliberate. Recently, in the novels she read before bed, the haunted house was always a place to enhance a couple’s feelings. If Miss Song wanted to get closer to the person she liked, this place—which often triggered fear in Omegas—would provide the perfect opportunity for Miss Song to practice.

 

She didn’t consider her own fear at all; she only hoped her presence would be helpful to Miss Song’s future happiness.

 

The Haunted House was a bit far from the entrance, so Song Yi hailed a small sightseeing car. It was an open-top vehicle, only operational on clear nights like this, moving slowly enough for tourists to enjoy the scenery.

 

As the gentle night breeze brushed her face, Zhou Zhou gripped the handrail with both hands, admiring everything they passed. Song Yi had little interest in the park itself; she instinctively looked at Zhou Zhou instead.

 

The wind tossed Zhou Zhou’s hair. Because Song Yi was sitting sideways, the strands of Zhou Zhou’s hair blew across her face, brushing against her cheeks and the tip of her nose. It was itchy on her skin and “itchy” in her heart, as if a fluffy little brush was lightly sweeping across her soul.

 

Her nose was filled with the scent of Zhou Zhou’s hair. Zhou Zhou used the same fresh fruity-wood essence shampoo that she did. The scent was refreshing and light; Song Yi usually didn’t notice it on herself, but she could smell it clearly on Zhou Zhou.

 

It seemed different from the original scent of the shampoo there was a layer of faint sweetness on top of the freshness, adding a sense of depth. It smelled wonderful.

 

She couldn’t help but sniff a few more times. This must be Zhou Zhou’s natural scent.

 

After a moment, Song Yi stopped, shocked by her own behavior. She felt like a total pervert.

 

Just then, Zhou Zhou slowly turned around. Song Yi quickly sat bolt upright, staring rigidly ahead while her heart hammered with unease. She condemned herself severely.

 

Because of the terrifying thought that had just popped into her head: she hadn’t just wanted to smell her, she had wanted to taste what Zhou Zhou tasted like.

 

That is a criminal, sinful thought, she scolded herself.

 

Song Yi pinched her thigh ruthlessly. She suspected that the “scumbag Alpha” soul of the original body owner was trying to resurface. Alarms went off in her head, but after waiting a moment, there was no movement. That evil presence did not appear to fight for control.

 

In other words, the person who just had those thoughts about Zhou Zhou was her.

 

Song Yi was terrified by this conclusion. How could she think that? Even if she didn’t act on it, the thought itself was a sin. She couldn’t accept her own moral slide or the idea of offending Zhou Zhou in any way.

 

Her original intention was to help Zhou Zhou avoid harm and lead a happy life, but now something had quietly shifted. This change left Song Yi at a loss; she couldn’t accept becoming a “variable” that might disrupt Zhou Zhou’s path to happiness.

 

“Miss Song, we’re here.”

 

Zhou Zhou’s voice pulled her back. Song Yi was so lost in thought she didn’t react until Zhou Zhou lightly shook her shoulder. The ache in her shoulder from the earlier nap jolted her awake.

 

Seeing the pained expression on her face, Zhou Zhou asked with concern, “Miss Song, are you feeling unwell?”

 

Song Yi shook her head and kneaded her own shoulder.

 

That spot…

 

Zhou Zhou suddenly remembered. When she woke up in the car, she had been leaning on Song Yi’s left shoulder for nearly three hours. It was only natural that it would hurt.

 

“Let’s get off first.” Sensing the driver’s amused gaze, Song Yi stepped out of the car, with Zhou Zhou following close behind.

 

The car drove off quickly. Zhou Zhou walked up to her and leaned in close. Song Yi instinctively swallowed. This had nothing to do with pheromones. She smelled that lovely, sweet scent again.

 

Without a word, Zhou Zhou stood on her tiptoes, her hands reaching up to Song Yi’s right shoulder to gently knead the muscle.

 

Many nearby tourists looked over curiously, attracted by their looks and the “matching” aura between them. Seeing them so close, people half-expected them to kiss.

 

But they didn’t.

 

The petite, beautiful girl wasn’t reaching up for a kiss; she was simply massaging the shoulder of the slightly cold-looking lady. Even without the “big moment,” the scene was enough to make the onlookers swoon.

 

“Zhou Zhou.” Song Yi’s voice was slightly raspy. She felt her muscles relaxing, but she also felt the eyes of the crowd eyes that looked at them with the envy and blessing reserved for a couple.

 

She should have ended it quickly to avoid a misunderstanding, but for the first time, she hesitated. She didn’t move; she actually enjoyed the feeling of being watched and envied. Something in her heart was collapsing uncontrollably.

 

In high school, Zhou Zhou used to sit for hours without moving to save time for studying. Her shoulders were always sore, feeling as if mountains were weighing them down. At night, she would sit on her bed and massage herself. Over three years, her massage skills had become excellent.

 

However, Miss Song was half a head taller than her. She had to stand on her tiptoes, and the height and angle were awkward. It wasn’t as effective as massaging herself, but it was enough to ease the pain. Zhou Zhou focused entirely on making up for the trouble she’d caused, ignoring everything else.

 

A few minutes later, her feet grew tired. She started to lower her heels while her hands kept working. Suddenly, she felt her waist tighten—a strong arm had wrapped around her.

 

Zhou Zhou froze, quickly realizing Miss Song was helping her stay balanced, but her face still flushed a deep red in the night.

 

Song Yi’s move was instinctive. Noticing Zhou Zhou was struggling, she stepped in. The action was like holding Zhou Zhou in a loose embrace—a subtle, lingering intimacy.

 

Song Yi’s throat moved as she swallowed. She felt incredibly thirsty.

 

Some passersby watching the scene were internally screaming, wishing they could just push their heads together.

 

“No way, they’re still not kissing?” “Is this a TV drama?” “Wait, there are no cameras. Can those two pretty ladies please just kiss for a random bystander?”

 

From a distance, these voices didn’t reach their ears.

 

After a while, Zhou Zhou stopped. Her heels touched the ground. “Does that feel any better, Miss Song?”

 

At that moment, Song Yi was looking slightly upward, trying desperately to ignore Zhou Zhou’s presence, so she didn’t notice the girl had finished. Her hand remained around Zhou Zhou’s waist, moving up slightly and sending a tingle down Zhou Zhou’s back.

 

“Miss Song?” Zhou Zhou called again, looking up to see Song Yi’s white neck and elegant jawline.

 

Song Yi snapped back to reality, her gaze dropping to meet Zhou Zhou’s. For a second, a spark seemed to pop in the air.

 

Song Yi looked away and released her hand from Zhou Zhou’s back, taking a step back. “Thank you.”

 

Zhou Zhou looked embarrassed, shaking her head. “I’m the one who made your shoulder hurt. It’s the least I could do.”

 

Song Yi was suddenly amused by the word “made,” but she quickly hid her smile, realizing how much Zhou Zhou feared being a burden. She saw a fruit tea shop nearby. Without looking back, she reached out blindly as if guided by instinct and accurately grasped Zhou Zhou’s wrist, leading her forward.

 

“Hello ladies! Thirsty? Get some sugar in you before the Haunted House; running out of there takes a lot of energy!” the shopkeeper laughed warmly.

 

Zhou Zhou noticed a streak of red like blood near the shopkeeper’s eye likely themed makeup for the location.

 

Song Yi didn’t let go of Zhou Zhou’s hand. She stared at the drink menu, feeling dazzled and even thirstier.

 

“I’ll have whatever your bestseller is,” Song Yi said, giving up on choosing, then turned to Zhou Zhou. “What do you want?”

 

Zhou Zhou kept her head down, her eyes fixed on where Song Yi was holding her wrist. “I’ll have the same as Miss Song,” she whispered.

 

The shopkeeper smiled knowingly while shaking the tea. “You two better keep your hands held tight once you get inside.”

 

Hearing this, Song Yi quickly let go. She hadn’t even realized she was still holding her. She looked down at her own hand and cursed inwardly: Pervert!

 

A flicker of disappointment crossed Zhou Zhou’s eyes. Did Miss Song just hold my hand instinctively because she was thinking of the person she likes, and then let go once she realized it was me?

 

But she remembered that Miss Song had proactively held her wrist a few times before. “Why…?” she murmured.

 

The shopkeeper thought she was asking why they had to hold hands. “Because the ghosts in this one chase people. The sound effects are terrifying. Once you’re scared, you’ll run instinctively. Many couples go in together, run for their lives separately, and end up breaking up when they come out.”

 

Song Yi was stunned. Still looking at her “pervert” hand, she thought: How could a real couple let go of each other?

 

Even though she and Zhou Zhou weren’t a real couple, she decided she wouldn’t let go of Zhou Zhou’s hand until they were out.

 

“Here’s your tea. Enjoy!” The owner handed over the drinks. Song Yi took both and gave one to Zhou Zhou.

 

As they walked to a grassy area to unwrap the drinks, Zhou Zhou felt something was missing. After a while, she realized: Miss Song hadn’t explained to the shopkeeper that they weren’t a couple.

 

She felt a small surge of joy, but logic quickly took over. Miss Song probably just wants to stay ‘in character’ for the date rehearsal. Explaining would ruin the mood.

 

Song Yi was thirsty and finished her drink in a blur. Zhou Zhou had only taken a few sips, so Song Yi kept biting her straw, pretending to still be drinking so Zhou Zhou wouldn’t feel rushed.

 

During the wait, her gaze inadvertently landed on Zhou Zhou’s lips. Once it landed, she couldn’t look away.

 

Song Yi used to think the term “cherry-like mouth” was an exaggeration, but looking at Zhou Zhou now, her lips were incredibly delicate and small especially against the wide straw. They were small yet full, so moist they reminded her of the moment a cherry bursts in your mouth. Most tempting was the “lip bead” (the protrusion on the upper lip) pressed against the straw; it looked like a tiny red heart. Anyone who saw it would want to take a bite.

 

Song Yi felt thirsty again.

 

She forced herself to look away, feeling like an absolute beast for having these recurring thoughts. If she had read more religious texts, she would have started reciting sutras in her head.

 

Suddenly, the words of her doctor, Ding Chen, echoed in her mind: “Miss Song, you must face your desires. You shouldn’t be celibate, but you shouldn’t overindulge either.”

 

She remembered asking what she should do since she didn’t have a girlfriend. Ding Chen had replied: “I think you and Miss Zhou Zhou are very compatible. I suggest you cherish that. A fixed partner might lack ‘freshness’ over time, but it’s better for your health.”

 

At the time, she had adamantly explained that she and Zhou Zhou weren’t like that they were “clean and innocent.”

 

But now, Song Yi wasn’t so sure. Her thoughts today were… aggressive.

 

Once Zhou Zhou finished her tea, Song Yi hadn’t reached a conclusion, so she dropped the subject. They walked toward the Haunted House. The terrifying sound effects and the rumbling of the ground could be heard from outside. Song Yi stuffed her hands into her pockets to stop herself from “offending” Zhou Zhou by grabbing her hand again.

 

Only at the very last step before entering did Song Yi hold out her hand to ask for Zhou Zhou’s permission. Zhou Zhou didn’t hesitate; she placed her hand in Song Yi’s palm almost instantly.

 

Zhou Zhou’s hand was so soft and small. Song Yi was so nervous her palms began to sweat, afraid she would squeeze too hard and hurt her. When Zhou Zhou squeezed back, Song Yi finally tightened her grip.

 

At the door stood two ghosts that didn’t look too scary they were grinning with stiff expressions, looking like statues.

 

“Let’s go in.” Song Yi led her inside. As soon as they stepped through, the lighting shifted from dim gray to overlapping red and green. Those two “statues” moved, their expressions twisting into eerie, haunting smiles.

 

Song Yi realized they weren’t statues, but actors.

 

To avoid being a burden, Zhou Zhou closed her eyes tight, then opened a tiny slit. Despite being terrified, she didn’t scream. she didn’t want Miss Song to worry or give her “special treatment” that was reserved for the person Miss Song actually loved. She bit her lip and followed tremblingly.

 

The simulation was incredibly realistic. Even Song Yi was a bit spooked. She was surprised Zhou Zhou remained silent, but the sticky sweat in her palm told her the girl was anything but calm. She squeezed Zhou Zhou’s hand tighter.

 

Suddenly, a blue-faced, fanged ghost lunged from the shadows straight at Zhou Zhou. Sensing danger, Zhou Zhou’s frayed nerves almost snapped. She desperately needed strength from Miss Song.

 

In that instant, Miss Song pulled her. Zhou Zhou crashed into Miss Song’s arms, her head resting on her shoulder. Even as another ghost appeared behind Miss Song, Zhou Zhou suddenly didn’t feel as scared. Closing her eyes reduced the fear significantly.

 

She couldn’t help but think: The next time Miss Song brings the person she loves here, that lucky lady will feel so safe, just like I do now.

 

The thought snapped her back to reality. She tried to pull away, but the world went black. It took a moment to realize Miss Song had placed a deep black hat on her head. The brim was wide enough to block most of her vision, but she could still see the path if she looked down.

 

“It’s okay,” Song Yi comforted her, slowing her pace.

 

Behind them, two male ghosts were hugging each other, trembling. They were Betas, completely suppressed by Song Yi’s aura. Their hats had been snatched away, leaving only sparse fake hair and exposed wig caps. They looked more pathetic than scary.

 

The two ghosts were nearly in tears, vowing never to pick on a “helpless” girl again, you never know if she has a terrifying Alpha standing next to her.

 

With Song Yi holding her and the hat shielding her, Zhou Zhou’s fear subsided. As they neared the exit, the ground began to shake violently to the beat of terrifying audio, and a mob of ghosts began chasing them.

 

“Run!”

 

Song Yi tried to pull her, but Zhou Zhou’s legs had turned to jelly. She couldn’t move.

 

Song Yi stopped and supported her. Realizing it was the combination of the vibration and the sound, she bent down and simply picked Zhou Zhou up in a princess carry. Zhou Zhou instinctively wrapped her arms around Song Yi’s neck.

 

Looking down, Song Yi could only see the wide brim of the hat. She gently rubbed the back of Zhou Zhou’s hand with her thumb. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here,” she said, her eyes filled with infinite tenderness.

 

Then, she turned to the aggressive mob of ghosts. Her gaze turned cold. She wasn’t going to run—she could protect Zhou Zhou.

 

The ghosts, having worked there for a long time, had never seen someone just stand their ground. As they got closer, they felt an invisible, crushing pressure. They tried to “brake” three meters away, but the ghosts behind them crashed into them, sending the whole group tumbling into a chaotic pile.

 

“Ow!” “Who stepped on my hand!” “Get off me, I’m being crushed!”

 

Song Yi let out a light chuckle. She wondered if she was truly that scary or if these ghosts were just unprofessional. They were a tangled mess on the floor not scary at all anymore.

 

The vibrations and sound effects cut out. Song Yi looked down at Zhou Zhou, wanting her to see the “ghosts” so she wouldn’t be scared when they got home.

 

Suddenly, she noticed that under the wide brim, Zhou Zhou’s beautiful lips were curved into a slight smile. In the dim light, those lush lips looked hazy and inviting.

 

Song Yi’s grip tightened. Another wild thought exploded in her mind:

 

Zhou Zhou’s lips look really, really kissable.