The Five Heartless Scumbag Alphas Turned Against Each Other Because Of Me - Chapter 37

Wait, what?

Sheng Yiheng froze as she heard the shocking revelation. For a moment, she genuinely thought she was hallucinating.

“When did you two secretly get married?”
And then quietly got divorced?

Such a huge event—and she hadn’t even heard a whisper.

Her emotions turned inexplicably complicated. It was like she had picked up a beautiful stray cat from the street, only to find out that it had already been… defiled by someone else.

And not just anyone—but by someone completely unexpected.

Someone she had never, not even once, considered as a possibility.

Sheng Yiheng didn’t even know how to describe the feeling in her chest. Maybe it was disappointment? Maybe she just couldn’t accept it?

And that resistance… she suspected it had everything to do with the identity of that so-called “beast”—Zheng Jinyu.

Once bitten, twice shy.

After being burned by Zheng Jinyu before, Sheng Yiheng already didn’t like her much. But now she found out that this manipulative Alpha had actually managed to fool even Tan Hua, this completely off-the-rails Omega?

Sheng Yiheng stared at Tan Hua, wondering: She must’ve been tricked, right?

I mean, with her looks and youth, why else would she be foolish enough to end up with someone like Zheng Jinyu?
Then again, perhaps it was exactly because of her youth and lack of experience that she was so easily manipulated.

Suddenly, Sheng Yiheng felt an odd sense of shared misfortune. Without realizing it, her posture shifted slightly, and both her tone and expression softened.

“When you two were together… was she good to you?”

“She was pretty good,” Tan Hua replied after some thought. Zheng Jinyu had been generous. It was just that the original host insisted on maintaining a cold and virtuous persona in front of her Alpha, so a lot of the gifts Zheng had sent were either rejected or returned.

Thinking of that made Tan Hua ache with frustration.

Still—credit where it’s due—Zheng Jinyu had indeed treated the original host quite well in that regard.

“Really?” Sheng Yiheng scoffed suddenly.
“If she was so good to you, why did you get divorced?”

She shifted again, her voice sharp.

“Was it you, or her?”

“…Her,” Tan Hua said without hesitation, throwing Zheng Jinyu under the bus.
She lowered her head, feigning sorrow.
“She said I was too emotional. Too immature.”

Of course she did, Sheng Yiheng thought. That damn woman. I knew she couldn’t be trusted.

“Well, it’s just as well. You’re better off now.” Sheng Yiheng leaned her chin on one hand, looking calm.
“She’s got someone else in her heart. Even if you were still married, you wouldn’t be happy with her.”

“Huh?” Tan Hua opened her mouth wide in feigned shock. After a long pause, she blinked and whispered, eyes cast downward:
“So that’s what it was.”

“No wonder she was so cold, so distant… so indifferent.”
Tan Hua gave a weak, bitter laugh.
“Turns out, she never really loved me at all.”
“She never even liked me.”

Tears fell from her eyes without warning, catching Sheng Yiheng completely off guard.

She froze.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something comforting, but the words stuck. What if she said the wrong thing and made it worse?

But doing nothing made her feel guilty too.

So she stood up, striding toward Tan Hua. She raised her hand, intending to gently pat her on the head—

—but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her hand hovered in mid-air awkwardly, the two of them frozen in place: one tall, one short, locked in this weird emotional standoff.

Sheng Yiheng looked conflicted, embarrassed, and incredibly awkward.

The system twitched.

“…”
Look what you’ve done to her. She was a normal person before. This is broad daylight—enough with the drama already!

Tan Hua had gotten a little too into character. For a brief moment, she even started channeling the original host’s genuine emotions.

“I thought she wanted to marry me because she truly loved me.”
She laughed through tears.
“I was so happy when I said yes. I kept dreaming about how beautiful our married life would be.”

She began to sob quietly.

“But it was all a lie. Her promises were fake. Her love was fake. Everything was fake.”

Sheng Yiheng stood there like a statue, completely frozen, unable to move a muscle.

“Haha, I was really fooled by her, huh?” Tan Hua laughed through her tears.
“Maybe in her eyes, I was always just a pathetic clown. Maybe she was just using me as a stand-in for whoever she really loved, and I was too blind to even see it.”

“I bet she laughed at me behind my back, thinking I was stupid. Thinking I couldn’t even figure out something so obvious.”

Tan Hua slowly lifted her tear-stained face, looking straight into Sheng Yiheng’s eyes.

“Don’t you think so, President Sheng?”

Sheng Yiheng visibly flinched, looking a little uncomfortable—and maybe even… guilty?

“Of course not,” she said quickly.

Forcing a smile, Sheng Yiheng coaxed gently,
“You did nothing wrong in all this. The one at fault is Zheng Jinyu.”

She stood in full solidarity with Tan Hua, righteously indignant.
“You have no reason to be heartbroken over a woman like her. There are plenty of honorable Alphas out there. One of these days, I’ll introduce you to a few.”

“And besides, the two of you are already divorced. Why waste any more energy on such a scummy Alpha?” Sheng Yiheng said with heartfelt conviction.
“You should wipe your tears and look ahead. Keep moving forward—there’s definitely a good woman out there waiting for you.”

“Like…” she paused to think.
“That pretty boy of yours, for example.”

Tan Hua chuckled softly.
“Wen Chuan already has someone she cares about.”
“Besides, we’re just ordinary friends. It’s not what you think, President Sheng.”

The air turned still.

Sheng Yiheng’s face froze in a stiff, unreadable expression. For a moment, she genuinely questioned why her mouth was allowed to function without permission.

“It’s fine,” she said with an awkward laugh.
“I’ll just introduce you to other quality Alphas.”

“Not like the scummy ones you’ve met. These are different—gorgeous, rich, kind, outgoing. I guarantee they’ll treat you a hundred times better than Zheng Jinyu or that Wen Chuan.”

“Really?” Tan Hua’s eyes lit up for a second, but soon dimmed again. She lowered her voice wistfully,
“No… I think I’m done with all that.”

With a bitter little smile, she added,
“I’ve never had good luck. I’ve long since stopped believing in fairytale romances falling into my lap.”

She gave a deliberately fragile smile of resilience.
“Instead of wishing for love that’ll never come, I’d rather spend my energy making money.”

“You can break up in love. You can divorce in marriage. Anyone can betray you—but money never will.”

She said it with solemn conviction, words clear and resolute.

The system twitched.
…Here we go again. She’s laying a trap for Sheng Yiheng.

It glanced at Sheng Yiheng, thinking:
No way she falls for this, right?

But when it looked again and saw the subtle gleam of resonance in Sheng Yiheng’s eyes and her approving expression, it internally screamed:

No way, sir—are you seriously falling for that shallow motivational quote?

“You’re right.” Sheng Yiheng said, nodding with conviction.
“No matter how beautiful a woman is, she can still mess you up. Make you fall, make you pay.”
“But money won’t.”

“Money makes you fearless. It lets you do what you want, live freely, and never look back.”

She looked at Tan Hua like she’d just found a kindred spirit. Her eyes practically sparkled.
“I never knew you had such a profound understanding of life.”

Tan Hua tried to maintain her sorrowful, “heartbroken but brave” expression:
“…?”

What the hell?

Wait. This is not the takeaway I meant. I was trying to say—when you go make big money in the future, take me with you! Share the profits! Don’t just leave me with life advice and a pat on the back!

“Go on back now,” Sheng Yiheng said, standing tall and patting her shoulder like a benevolent big boss.
“Dry your tears, leave the pain behind, and keep moving forward.”
“I believe in you.”

Tan Hua: “…”
Do I look like someone who came here for a motivational TED talk?

As the host finally stumbled, the system couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh, feeling genuinely proud as it glanced over at Sheng Yiheng.

Finally, some progress. She didn’t get swept away by the host’s nonsense this time.

Please, keep this clarity going.

Meanwhile, Tan Hua’s emotions had gotten so complex she couldn’t even describe them. She looked at Sheng Yiheng—who was now patting her on the shoulder like she was giving life advice to a war survivor—and couldn’t help but open her mouth.

“So… does what you said earlier still count?”

If Sheng Yiheng’s social circle included other Alphas, they couldn’t be that bad, right?

“What?” Sheng Yiheng looked at her in confusion. She blinked at Tan Hua for several seconds before realization finally dawned.

“You mean that part where I said I’d introduce you to a few Alphas to help you move on from your heartbreak?”

Tan Hua nodded furiously, like a chicken pecking rice.

“We’ll see.” Sheng Yiheng replied noncommittally.

Tan Hua: “…”
Ha. Typical scummy Alpha. Can’t trust a single word they say.
Smile through the betrayal, babe.

Her expression must’ve been a little too obvious, because Sheng Yiheng squinted at her suspiciously, her aura suddenly sharpening.

“Didn’t you just say you weren’t thinking about romance anymore?”
“Were you lying to me just now?”

Seeing that this Alpha had gone into alert mode, Tan Hua quickly shook her head.
“Of course not!”
She improvised,
“I was just… testing you. To see how trustworthy your words are, President Sheng.”

“Because if you were just saying all that earlier to cheer me up, and it wasn’t sincere…”
She lowered her lashes, feigning a wounded expression.
“Then I’d be getting hurt by an Alpha… all over again.”

“It was absolutely sincere!” Sheng Yiheng replied instantly, not even thinking about it.
“Alright, enough being sad. Go home tonight and clean yourself up—we’re attending an official function together tomorrow.”

“Every Alpha there is rich, gorgeous, and has a stable job with benefits. Way better than someone like Zheng Jinyu, don’t you think?”

“Really?” Tan Hua was caught off guard by the unexpected benefit of her emotional performance, but recovered quickly.

She nodded enthusiastically.
“Don’t worry, President Sheng! I won’t embarrass you—I’ll do my absolute best!”

“Then I won’t keep you. I’ll let you get back to your work.”
With that, she quickly exited the CEO’s office, carefully and quietly closing the door behind her.

Sheng Yiheng: “…”
Strange. Since when did Tan Hua become so obedient and well-mannered?

But…

She stood there, frowning slightly. Something about the entire exchange felt odd—unnaturally smooth.
Wasn’t she supposed to be confronting Tan Hua for giving the gift to someone else? How had it turned into her… offering to introduce new Alphas?

Sheng Yiheng furrowed her brows.
How did we even get here?

Meanwhile, Tan Hua skipped down the hallway back to her office, humming to herself with obvious glee.
Anyone who saw her would think she had just received fantastic news.

A few secretaries huddled together, whispering.

“Why was she alone with President Sheng for so long again?”

“And she looked so happy coming out…”

“Who knows. Probably got another promise or favor from President Sheng.”

“Ugh, I’m so jealous. She doesn’t have to do anything and still gets paid—and Sheng always treats her with such respect.”
One of the secretaries sighed.
“When will President Sheng ever treat me that gently?”

“What are you all thinking?” one secretary rolled her eyes, arms crossed.
“We’re just secretaries. She’s the stand-in. How can we possibly compare?”
“If President Sheng treated you the way she treats Tan Hua, do you think you could handle it?”

The others fell silent, mentally picturing Sheng Yiheng suddenly treating them with that same… special attention.

Shivers went down their spines.

“Nope,” someone muttered.
“Absolutely not. That’s scarier than a horror movie.”

With that, all of them dropped their daydreams like hot potatoes.

“You’ve gotta hand it to Tan Hua, though,” one of them sighed.
“She’s got skills.”

Anyone else would’ve run for the hills after two days under Sheng Yiheng’s intense pressure. But Tan Hua? She’d held her ground for days.
Naturally, the conversation shifted again.

Soon they were fully engrossed in a heated discussion centered around one key question:
“How much longer can Tan Hua last under Sheng Yiheng’s roof?”

That was the hot topic for the next half hour—until someone suddenly blurted:
“Hey… isn’t Sheng Yiheng’s white moonlight supposed to be coming back to the country soon?”

The whole office went silent.

After a beat, everyone wordlessly returned to their desks, sat down, and pretended to be very busy typing. No one said another word about it.

Tan Hua, meanwhile, was still basking in the afterglow of Sheng Yiheng’s big promises. She whipped out her mirror, tilting her head left and right while posing and smiling at her reflection.

The system stared at her, visibly worn down by her antics.

Then it mumbled,
“Host, that was such a golden opportunity just now. And you didn’t even try to take Sheng Yiheng down.”

This was so unlike her usual bold, morally bankrupt self.

“Was it really?” Tan Hua blinked, shifting her gaze away from the mirror.

When the system nodded frantically, she paused, then asked,
“Okay, then what would you have done?”

The system launched into its plan without hesitation:
“Start by painting yourself as tragically lonely. Play the pitiful angle. Tug at her conscience. Then, just as she’s overcome with guilt for bringing up your past trauma—bam—use a mix of emotional blackmail and gentle coercion to push her into—”
Wait.

It stopped itself just in time.

A cold chill ran down its metaphorical spine.
Wait, what the hell am I saying? Why is this coming out of my mouth like it’s a strategy guide?

It was horrified.

This kind of unhinged thinking—this was Tan Hua’s usual behavior! It had spent so long trying to pull her out of the abyss…
So why was it the one spiraling now?

The system stared at her in panic.

Is… is my host actually some kind of contamination source from a horror-tier infinite survival game?
Everything that gets too close to her starts getting boiled like a frog—slowly poisoned, slowly warped…

Even me.

The system suddenly stopped talking.

Tan Hua raised a brow curiously.
“Why’d you stop?”

The system twitched.
“…No reason.”
“I just realized your current approach is… actually quite reasonable. Really. Good job.”

And with that, it vanished on the spot—no matter how many times Tan Hua called it back, it refused to respond.

In the corner of its digital consciousness, the system was curled up, scanning itself from head to toe—inside and out—scrutinizing every last virtual screw it had…

Trying to figure out where, exactly, things had gone so wrong.

“Ugh, I’m so jealous of her. She doesn’t even have to lift a finger and still gets paid, and President Sheng actually treats her nicely.”
One secretary sighed under her breath,
“When will President Sheng ever be that gentle and polite to me?”

“What are you guys even thinking?” another retorted.
“We’re just secretaries. She’s the stand-in. You think we’re in the same league?”
“If President Sheng started treating you like she treats Tan Hua… could you even survive it?”

That sentence landed hard.

The rest of them paused and imagined it—Sheng Yiheng smiling at them softly, speaking in that honeyed tone, staring at them with emotion.
Instantly, chills ran down their spines.

“…Nope. Couldn’t handle it.”
“That’d be way scarier than a horror movie.”

Just like that, everyone gave up the fantasy.

“Tan Hua really has something going for her, huh?” someone murmured with awe.

Anyone else would’ve been scared off by Sheng Yiheng’s intensity long ago, but Tan Hua had not only endured—it’d been days.
The topic quickly shifted to a new burning question:
“How much longer can Tan Hua hold out under President Sheng’s watch?”

That became the theme of the next half-hour’s gossip, with everyone contributing predictions, wagers, and wild theories.

Until someone suddenly said,
“Wait… isn’t President Sheng’s white moonlight coming back soon?”

The room went completely silent.

And then, without another word, everyone wordlessly slid back into their chairs, quietly resumed typing, and acted like nothing had been said.

Meanwhile, Tan Hua, having just pocketed a juicy promise from Sheng Yiheng, was absolutely glowing.
She pulled out a mirror and began preening, striking poses and checking herself out with great satisfaction.

The system, looking spiritually depleted, watched her with dead eyes.
Then it spoke weakly:
“Host… that was a perfect opportunity just now, and you didn’t even try to take Sheng Yiheng down.”

“That’s not like you.”

“Was it?” Tan Hua blinked, pulling her gaze away from the mirror.

The system nodded so hard it almost rebooted itself.
Tan Hua paused, thoughtful, then asked,
“Okay then. What do you think I should’ve done?”

The system immediately launched into an all-too-detailed plan:
“First, make her pity you. Play the ‘I’m so lonely, no one loves me’ card. Stir her conscience, make her soften. Then just as she’s feeling guilty for bringing up your trauma—bam! Half manipulate, half corner her into—”

Wait.
The system caught itself mid-sentence.
What the hell am I saying?!

It stared blankly into the digital void, horrified.
How had that absurd, deranged plan not only formed in its mind—but almost been delivered like a tutorial lecture?

It used to fight tooth and nail to keep Tan Hua from behaving this way.

And now… was it infected?

The system stared hard at her.

Wait a minute… is the host actually a kind of contamination source from a horror-tier infinite loop? A walking, talking moral rot? Anyone or anything near her slowly boils like a frog, corrupted little by little until they turn into monsters too?

Just like… me.

It went dead silent.

Tan Hua raised an eyebrow curiously.
“Why’d you stop?”

The system twitched.
“…No reason.”
“I’ve just realized your current approach is… really good. Super effective.”
And with that, it slinked away, ignoring all her attempts to call it back.

In a digital corner of its consciousness, it curled into a metaphorical ball, anxiously scanning itself from head to toe—running diagnostics, poking every internal setting and screw…

Yet no matter how hard it searched, it couldn’t find what had gone wrong.

Maybe… the system thought bleakly,
Maybe the host’s corruption is psychological.

If this went on, the system feared it might become even more invested than its host in watching her aggressively conquer a few of those scummy Alphas—just to see them grovel at her feet.

That thought filled the system with a sudden, deep despair.

It went completely silent, unwilling to say another word.
Tan Hua, however, was all smiles as she put down her mirror.

“System baby, your level of self-awareness has improved again.”
“There’s real hope for your future,” she added generously, with no trace of sarcasm—only smug amusement.

The system dared not respond.

If it so much as opened its metaphorical mouth again, she might catch something she could use to blackmail it into doing things strictly forbidden by the main system.

So it sat quietly in a corner, trying to make itself invisible.

After a long pause, its voice popped up out of nowhere:
“Host… Zheng Jinyu hasn’t left yet.”

“She seems to be waiting for you to get off work… to invite you to dinner.”

“Hm?” Tan Hua raised a brow, intrigued.
Then she narrowed her eyes slightly.
“You sure?”

“…Not really.” The system went mute again.

Tan Hua chuckled softly.
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough.”

Tan Hua’s workload at the company was, to be blunt, nonexistent. She was rarely actually busy, which made it easy for her to bolt out the door the moment the clock struck the end of the workday.

But before she could make it to the parking garage, a well-dressed Beta woman approached her.

“Miss Tan, if you’ll please come with me—President Zheng is waiting for you at the restaurant.”

Tan Hua stared at her for a few seconds, then nodded.
“Alright.”

Zheng Jinyu had already reserved a table at a nearby upscale restaurant, with towering floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city skyline.

Tan Hua followed the Beta up the elevator and soon spotted the graceful, elegant woman waiting by the window.

“You’re off work.”
Zheng Jinyu raised her delicately made-up face with a soft smile.
“How was your day? Was work exhausting?”

“Not at all,” Tan Hua said, pulling out a chair after thanking the Beta.
“Sheng Yiheng treats me well. She doesn’t assign me anything too hard.”

Hearing that, Zheng Jinyu’s heart filled with questions. She wanted to ask directly but was afraid it would seem too abrupt or intrusive.

So she opted for subtlety, keeping her tone light.
“I never expected you’d end up knowing Sheng Yiheng.”

“Neither did I.”
Tan Hua smiled faintly.
“But I suppose you were too busy traveling with your stunning, flirtatious assistant, handling business abroad. You didn’t really have time to keep track of what I was doing, did you?”

The atmosphere shifted immediately.

Zheng Jinyu’s breathing grew heavier. Her voice dropped.
“Hua Hua… do we have to bring up these unhappy things every time we meet?”

“So, you feel unhappy hearing them?”
Tan Hua blinked innocently, then continued as Zheng Jinyu’s expression darkened:
“Then have you ever considered how devastated I must’ve felt back then, when I was the one being left behind?”

“Hua Hua.”
Zheng Jinyu couldn’t help raising her voice slightly.

Tan Hua immediately raised her hand in mock surrender.
“Alright, alright. I’ll stop talking.”
Her lips twitched.
“I won’t bring it up again.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Zheng Jinyu’s voice turned agitated.
She didn’t understand why Tan Hua always had to push her like this.
“I’ve already explained—there’s nothing between me and her.”

“What do you want me to do to make you believe me?”

“I know you have no interest in her.”
Tan Hua smiled sweetly as she looked at her.
“But her feelings for you… that’s another story, isn’t it?”

She leaned in closer, voice casual but deliberate.
“And you, as one of the people involved… can’t you feel it?”

Zheng Jinyu didn’t answer. Her dark eyes bore into Tan Hua’s, turbulent with suppressed emotion.

Tan Hua let out a soft laugh.
Still pretending? Save it for the kindergarten crowd, darling.

She slowly took a sip of cold water, and then heard Zheng Jinyu’s voice, hoarse and restrained:
“What do you want me to do?”

“Simple.”
Tan Hua’s expression loosened, her smile charming and wicked like a siren in a silk dress.
“Fire her.”

She stared into Zheng Jinyu’s eyes, completely unfazed by the oppressive shift in air pressure between them.
“Didn’t you ask me how to solve it? Well, I’m giving you the solution. Don’t tell me you’re going to back out now?”

“She’s very capable,” Zheng Jinyu said at last.
“Her resume is flawless. Her skillset is exceptional. Even if she leaves my company, she’ll have no trouble finding a new one…”

“Exactly,” Tan Hua cut in cheerfully.
“So now you don’t even need to feel guilty. She can go find a company she likes better—somewhere she can really shine.”

“Instead of staying here, with you, where her brilliance is… a little too inconvenient.”

Her reasoning was completely unreasonable, her tone brazenly spoiled. Zheng Jinyu tapped her fingers irritably on the table.
“If I let her go, I’d be losing a valuable asset.”

“You fire her, and I’ll leave Sheng Yiheng to work for you.”
Tan Hua rested her chin in her palm, her tone light—like she was discussing whether or not she should’ve ordered an extra bun and a cup of soy milk for breakfast.

The system practically choked.
She—Tan Hua—was actually offering to go work for someone? Willingly?

All for Zheng Jinyu?

It whipped its metaphorical head around and stared anxiously at Zheng Jinyu.
Please, child. Think this through. This is a once-in-a-lifetime offer!

If you say no now, you’ll never get another shot at her.

Zheng Jinyu was feeling completely thrown off.
Tan Hua’s forceful attitude instantly dragged her back to those days when they couldn’t go a full day without arguing.

The pressure, the chaos—it was back in full force.

For once, the Alpha couldn’t hold her gentle façade. Her face darkened.

Neither of them said a word.

The silence between them thickened like fog.

Tan Hua didn’t push. She just smiled sweetly, watching Zheng Jinyu like none of this mattered—like her request was just a throwaway comment, and she didn’t care if it got granted or not.

That smile made Zheng Jinyu feel like Tan Hua was heartless. Unreasonable. Maddening.

She closed her eyes, took a long breath, then asked:
“Do you really have to go this far?”

Tan Hua looked down, her lashes dropping like curtains.
Such a shame.

She said nothing.

The silence tore through Zheng Jinyu’s nerves. Her fingers clenched tight around the water glass.
After a long pause, she finally spoke:

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

“I’ll fire her—before tomorrow.”