The Five Heartless Scumbag Alphas Turned Against Each Other Because Of Me - Chapter 57

There was something seriously off about Zheng Jinyu’s tone—it was eerily similar to the way she’d appeared in the later parts of the original story Tan Hua had just reviewed. That version of Zheng Jinyu, cold and emotionally unstable, emerged after the female lead kept getting entangled with other Alphas and furiously cut ties with her over secretly seeking a substitute during her absence.

The look in Zheng Jinyu’s eyes now was chillingly cold, void of any warmth. A monstrous wave of possessiveness churned violently beneath her calm surface—it was startling, even terrifying.

Tan Hua didn’t doubt Zheng Jinyu’s ability to act on her impulses. What she didn’t understand was this: the female lead hadn’t yet reached that breaking point with Zheng Jinyu. Why was she—Tan Hua—getting dragged into a dog-blood love tragedy that was never meant for her?

She summoned the system.
“What’s going on? Why is Zheng Jinyu suddenly acting like this?”

“Is something happening with the female lead?”

“Nope, nothing,” the system replied after checking in on Cheng Yuan’s side.
“She’s having a grand old time hosting a party with her girlfriends—laughing it up like nothing’s wrong.”

But even the system had to admit Zheng Jinyu’s current state felt off. After a moment’s hesitation, it asked tentatively:
“Host, is it possible you accidentally provoked her while I was upgrading?”

“Or maybe said something that triggered her?”

Tan Hua fell silent. Had she unintentionally provoked Zheng Jinyu earlier?
Was that it?
Then, without warning, she curled her lips into a faint smile.

“Not good,” she murmured, pushing her stray thoughts aside. Her face was calm as still water, and her tone unflinchingly cold and detached.
“I don’t even like you. Why would I let you mark me?”

“Isn’t it only when I develop real feelings for you that I’d willingly accept your pheromones?”

The air between them thickened with the sweet, heady scent of fruit. But Tan Hua remained composed. With a serene, innocent smile, she tilted her head and looked at Zheng Jinyu.
“Zheng Jinyu, if I say no… are you planning to force me?”

Force you?
Zheng Jinyu’s lashes swept downward in perfect unison.
“…Of course not.” Her voice was warm and gentle.
“I care about you—I love you. How could I possibly hurt you, or force you to do something you don’t want?”

“I was only… asking for your opinion,” she said softly.

“Then here’s my answer: I refuse,” Tan Hua said, lifting her eyelids. A faint smile rippled in her eyes, but it carried no emotion.
“So what do you plan to do with me now?”

The word “deal with” was too harsh. Zheng Jinyu’s eyes narrowed, clearly displeased.
“Hua Hua, why won’t you believe me?” she asked, confused and hurt.
Why is she always so guarded—at least, when it comes to me?

She wasn’t like this with Sheng Yiheng.

Oh right—there was also Wen Chuan. In front of him, Tan Hua was confident and unafraid. She could interact with him normally, even occasionally showing a bit of softness and vulnerability. But with her—Zheng Jinyu—it was like she became a completely different person.

Zheng Jinyu couldn’t understand what she was doing wrong.

She absentmindedly resumed drying Tan Hua’s hair. The strands were fine and soft, yet thick, slipping smoothly through her fingers with a glossy, almost luminous sheen and it’s so beautiful.

Faced with the gradually thickening fruity scent in the air, Tan Hua remained calm and composed. With an innocent smile playing on her lips, she turned her head slightly to look at Zheng Jinyu.
“Zheng Jinyu, if I say no, are you going to force me?”

Force you? Zheng Jinyu’s eyelashes dropped in perfect unison.
“…No.” Her voice was soft and gentle.
“I care about you—I like you so much. How could I possibly hurt you or force you to do something you don’t want?”

“I was only asking for your opinion,” she explained in a warm, soothing tone.

“Well, now I’ve given you my answer: I refuse.”
Tan Hua lifted her gaze, a faint smile flickering in her eyes—but without the slightest trace of warmth.
“So now what? What are you going to do with me?”

The word “deal with” was far too harsh. Zheng Jinyu frowned slightly in distaste and narrowed her eyes.
“Hua Hua, why won’t you believe me?” she asked, clearly puzzled. The Omega’s wariness toward her felt deeply unjustified.

Yet in front of Sheng Yiheng, Tan Hua wasn’t like this at all.

Oh, and also Wen Chuan. She was fearless around him—able to interact smoothly, even playfully yielding or showing occasional vulnerability. But in front of her, Tan Hua seemed like an entirely different person.

Zheng Jinyu couldn’t figure out what more she needed to do.

She absentmindedly continued drying Tan Hua’s hair—soft and fine strands, thick and silky, gleaming with a glossy sheen as they slid between her fingers.
So beautiful.

Hair like this, cascading down her slender back like a waterfall… if only she could keep it in her hands forever.

She took in the faint scent of Tan Hua’s shampoo lingering in the air—delicate and clean, unique to her Omega body.
Unspoken and silent, Zheng Jinyu’s possessiveness began to creep forward like a shadow.

Tan Hua didn’t respond to her earlier words, but fortunately, Zheng Jinyu didn’t press the issue either. She finished drying Tan Hua’s hair with calm precision, then casually tied it into a low bun with a simple black elastic.

Just like that, the Omega instantly took on the gentle, homey air of a virtuous wife.

Soft, serene, and domestic—it was almost exactly the image of an Omega Zheng Jinyu had always dreamed of.

But this warm scene was fleeting, fragile, and unreal. Coming back to her senses, Zheng Jinyu smiled as if nothing had happened.
“Let’s eat. You must be hungry.”

Perhaps because she’d been snapped at several times by Tan Hua in recent days, Zheng Jinyu seemed unusually quiet and restrained. She no longer tried to force a conversation. She simply ate in silence—until, near the end of the meal, her cool, crisp voice emerged slowly from her throat.
“Hua Hua, I’m going to be very busy soon.”

She reported the details like a formal update:
“After Yan Yan left, the company fell into temporary disarray. I’ve been trying to stabilize things these past few days, but there’s still a lot left for me to handle.”

“But thankfully, I’ve finally chosen a new secretary.”
Zheng Jinyu smiled faintly and opened her phone, showing a photo to Tan Hua.
“He’s a male Omega. Married. His kid’s already in preschool.”

She rambled on not out of casual interest, but to ease Tan Hua’s worries—so she wouldn’t grow suspicious or jealous over a new stranger in Zheng Jinyu’s proximity.

To earn Tan Hua’s trust, Zheng Jinyu had deliberately chosen this candidate from a pool of much more impressive interviewees—an average-looking, married Omega with no remarkable background and even fewer outstanding abilities.

But that was exactly what made him ideal in Zheng Jinyu’s eyes.

She didn’t need brilliance. She needed someone steady, reliable—someone who would quietly carry out her instructions without question. For a role that might require near round-the-clock availability, she chose the one who would give Tan Hua the greatest sense of security.

Her voice remained calm, simply laying out the facts. There was no hint of boasting.

Tan Hua glanced at the photo. Judging by appearance alone, there was nothing particularly impressive—just a clean, proper-looking man who gave off a decent, harmless vibe.

He was so ordinary he could vanish in a crowd.

Tan Hua let out a short, amused hum.
“Your taste sure has changed quickly, President Zheng.”
She pulled her eyes away from the photo, clearly unconcerned.
“If your work keeps you busy, go ahead and focus on it.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”
Resting her chin on one hand, she smiled brightly.
“I’ll be just fine without you. Won’t I?”

“…Yes.”
Zheng Jinyu smiled, but it was a cold and bitter one in her heart.

Without her, Tan Hua was doing even better than before. Happier. Freer.

There was no place for her in Tan Hua’s heart.
Out there in the world, there were far too many Alphas just waiting for Tan Hua to choose from.

How could she not be happy?

She was practically basking in bliss.

Zheng Jinyu’s dark, complex eyes fixed steadily on Tan Hua. Her gaze was intense and unwavering.
“But I want to be the one who voluntarily tells you everything about my life,” she admitted plainly.
“I hope that every time I check in with you, you’ll set everyone else aside—even for a moment—and think of me.”

“And I simply can’t ignore you.”

“If you skip a meal, I’ll worry. If you don’t sleep well, I’ll worry. And if someone hurts you… it’ll break my heart.”

Her voice was soft, almost delicate.
“Hua Hua, I just can’t pretend you don’t matter. I can’t pretend not to care.”

Gentleness really was a deadly weapon—and Tan Hua wasn’t entirely immune. In the end, she relented a little, her tone softening.
“Alright,” she said, setting down her chopsticks.
“I’ll try to think of you more often.”

She smiled lightly.
“After all, it’s not like I’ve completely forgotten you. It’s not like I feel absolutely nothing anymore.”

Whether that lingering feeling was resentment or unresolved affection—Zheng Jinyu didn’t want to know. All she knew was that hearing those words from Tan Hua today already felt like a blessing from above.

“Get some rest,” Zheng Jinyu said as she rose to her feet.
“I’ll take you to work tomorrow.”

She looked like she was in an uncharacteristically good mood. Tan Hua studied her carefully—Zheng Jinyu was no longer the cold, detached woman she’d first met. Gone was the harsh rejection and barely veiled disgust. The Alpha had tucked away her sharpest edges, behaving now like a docile, domesticated pet.

Perfect for locking up, Tan Hua mused silently to herself.

Zheng Jinyu began clearing the table. When Tan Hua tried to help, she was quickly shooed back to her room.

Now lying flat on the large bed, limbs spread lazily, Tan Hua stared at the ceiling and asked the system,
“So… does this mean I’ve successfully conquered Zheng Jinyu?”

“Not quite, Host,” the system replied in its usual stiff tone.

“?”
Tan Hua shot upright like someone jolted awake from a coma.
“You mean… she’s not actually in love with me yet? She’s just pretending?!”

It was outrageous—like grinding through a brutal game only to have the AI cheerfully inform you,
“Congratulations! You’re not finished. Please keep going :)”

“Well… that’s not it either,” the system explained.
“She does love you—just not enough yet.”

“Got it,” Tan Hua flopped back down.
“So I still need to wait for the female lead to return before I can properly launch my full strategy, right?” A sly smile tugged at her lips.
“When is she coming back?”

I can’t wait.

The system had no way of knowing. The butterfly effect had long since scrambled the plot’s trajectory—every action the host took had the potential to shift the story in unexpected ways. How could a simple AI like it predict such chaos?

Before falling asleep, Tan Hua took a few minutes to check on Wen Chuan’s homework. The kid was smart—though she had never studied seriously before, her grades had soared in a short span of time. The results were downright shocking.

Tan Hua stared at the screen, her expression unreadable. The system assumed she might finally be touched by Wen Chuan’s diligence—perhaps even feel a shred of sympathy or affection.

But instead, it heard her mutter:
“What a waste of a brilliant brain, not going into research.”

“No—scientific research pays too little,” she added, shaking her head.
“Better to start her own business. Doesn’t her family have tons of assets waiting for her to inherit anyway?”

“If that happens, she’d be on equal footing with Lu Huaixu, Sheng Yiheng, and Zheng Jinyu.”

The system felt an ominous chill creeping up its circuits. And sure enough, the next sentence was:
“True emotional stability only exists when both sides are equally matched.”

System: “?”
That’s… not how the saying goes, is it?

Realizing this, Tan Hua confidently proceeded to draw up several figurative “blueprints” for Wen Chuan’s future.

And when she saw how the girl nodded excitedly, clearly thrilled by their rare extended chat, the system could only sigh:
Still too young.

Unlike itself. It had long since outgrown the age of being bamboozled by Tan Hua’s grandiose empty promises—almost to the point of a full system reset.

Nothing happened overnight.

The next morning, Zheng Jinyu once again acted like a doting wife, preparing breakfast for Tan Hua bright and early. She was so considerate, expecting nothing in return, that Tan Hua almost started to feel guilty.

After sitting down, Tan Hua cautiously offered,
“You’ve been taking such good care of me these past few days… how about I send you a small red envelope as thanks?”

Zheng Jinyu was just about to refuse when she saw the transfer go through—8,888 yuan.

The words caught in her throat.
“…Right. Just a small red envelope.”

She couldn’t help but smile and accepted it with quiet amusement.
“Thank you.”

“What for?” Tan Hua waved a hand politely.
“If you thank me like that, it just makes me feel bad.”
After all, Zheng Jinyu had given her a whole house.

Setting aside Zheng Jinyu’s past behavior, the woman now was practically flawless.

But then she remembered: Zheng Jinyu still didn’t love her completely. She wasn’t the only one in her heart. That realization quickly cooled any warmth in Tan Hua’s mind.

It’s dangerous to believe sweet words too easily.

That day, Zheng Jinyu had a meeting with Sheng Yiheng to discuss deepening their recent collaboration. Tan Hua followed her up to the office. The moment they arrived, Sheng Yiheng shot her a doubtful glance and said curtly,
“Go make some tea for President Zheng.”

The Alpha gave a direct order.

Tan Hua glanced at her and looked like she wanted to say something, but in the end, she obediently left to prepare the tea.

Once the tea was ready, the two Alphas shut themselves in the office. No one outside knew what they discussed.

Slouched in a chair, Tan Hua absentmindedly cracked open some sunflower seeds, her eyes drifting toward the office door.
“I’m actually kind of worried they might suddenly start fighting.”

System: “…” Really? How? The female lead’s not even here. Why would they fight?

It muttered internally: You just want to see chaos. You’re not worried—you’re entertained.

Unfortunately, the two of them seemed to be getting along quite well. The discussion was smooth, the cooperation moving forward without a hitch. Tan Hua sighed regretfully and started contemplating a new strategy:

How do I become best friends with the female lead?

…Start with her parents?

Nope. Tan Hua immediately shook her head.

Dai Yueqing was fine—she looked at Tan Hua like she was her own daughter, radiating motherly warmth and softness. But Cheng Shulan was a whole different challenge.

Just thinking about how the female lead’s parents had loudly argued in public twice—both times over her—gave Tan Hua a headache.

What if, before she even had time to raise their favorability toward her, she got labeled a “homewrecker” trying to infiltrate the family and was slapped down instead?

A jealous Beta could definitely do something that dramatic.

After Zheng Jinyu and Sheng Yiheng finished their conversation, Zheng Jinyu returned to say a few words to Tan Hua—giving her some reminders—before heading out.

Sheng Yiheng leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. For some reason, the scene just now left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“You two really get along well,” she said with a forced smile.
“Even divorced, you’re like a pair of lovebirds—so attentive and caring toward each other. It’s… rare.”

Tan Hua lazily lifted her eyes.
“Isn’t that normal? We may be divorced, but the love remains.”
She arched a brow.
“What, President Sheng, does our happiness bother you?”

Sheng Yiheng choked on her words, unable to respond for a moment. After a pause, she forced a straight face and said,
“In the future, try not to bring personal affairs into work. It sets a bad example.”

“We didn’t start making out in public or tongue-wrestle in front of everyone,” Tan Hua replied coolly.
“What ‘bad example’ are we talking about?”

Then, suddenly, her eyes narrowed. She leaned in, staring intently at Sheng Yiheng’s face, scanning her from top to bottom.

Here we go again.

Sheng Yiheng startled, instinctively backing up. But with no space left in the cramped corner near the bookshelf, she found herself trapped—cornered by the slim, delicate Omega.

Her face turned wary as she barked,
“What are you doing?” She raised her voice slightly.
“Go stand back where you were just now.”

Tan Hua didn’t move. She continued scrutinizing Sheng Yiheng’s expression with playful seriousness. After a long moment, she grinned—almost smugly.
“You’re doing it on purpose.”

Sheng Yiheng: “?” Doing what on purpose?

“You’re purposely nitpicking me, acting all disapproving and annoyed. But in reality—”
Tan Hua paused deliberately, her voice laced with wicked glee.

Sheng Yiheng’s heart skipped a beat.

She instinctively tried to shift away, just a little, about to scold Tan Hua for being presumptuous—when Tan Hua casually dropped a bomb:
“You’re jealous.”

“Sheng Yiheng, you’re crushing on me.”

Sheng Yiheng: utterly exposed and furious—cue triple denial in a panic.

Tan Hua: just watching calmly, chin in hand, quietly entertained.

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