The Five Heartless Scumbag Alphas Turned Against Each Other Because Of Me - Chapter 59

Tang Yanrou held her breath, slowly and carefully, not wanting to miss a single change in Tan Hua’s voice or reaction.

But on the other end of the call, the sounds of laughter and scuffling continued—louder now, more carefree—as if no one had heard her at all. A few seconds passed before someone finally spoke, sounding a bit confused:

“Wait… was someone talking just now?”

Another moment later, the hand covering the phone must’ve been lifted, and Tan Hua’s voice finally came through the speaker. Her tone was polite, but laced with a hint of amusement:

“Sorry, Miss Tang, what did you say just now?”

Tan Hua had shot a glare at Sheng Yiheng, clearly annoyed, and tried to wave her away. But Sheng Yiheng just stood there, arms crossed, leaning against the wall like an annoying fly that refused to leave.

After getting glared at, she raised an eyebrow, totally unfazed. She gestured toward the phone, signaling for Tan Hua to handle the call first.

Tan Hua sighed and looked away, then turned her attention back to the call with a touch of embarrassment in her voice.

“Apologies. I didn’t catch what you said. Could you repeat it?”

Tang Yanrou went quiet. For a few seconds, she didn’t respond. Then, without warning, she let out a soft smile and said gently:

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to say… I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.”

Her voice was warm and sincere.

Tan Hua’s cheeks flushed a little, and she replied awkwardly:

“Me too.”

Sheng Yiheng’s expression changed immediately. A wave of irritation rose in her chest.

I asked her to talk business with Tang Yanrou—not flirt with her like some wandering heartbreaker.

She straightened up, took a firm step forward, and walked directly toward Tan Hua.

Tan Hua jolted, visibly startled, and quickly said into the phone:

“Miss Tang, let’s leave it there for now. I’ll be in touch later.”

She added quickly,
“I need to get back to work.”

Tang Yanrou kept smiling, but the curve of her lips felt stiff and unnatural. For the first time, even she could feel how fake her smile was.

Then, in a tone that sounded far too polite to be genuine, she replied:

“Alright. Take care.”

“Goodbye.” Tan Hua hung up in a hurry, then turned back to Sheng Yiheng with a blank expression.

“President Sheng, just because you like me and I’m nice to you doesn’t mean you get to act all spoiled and bossy.”

Sheng Yiheng froze mid-step.

“…Excuse me?”

She was completely speechless. Her face twitched.

What kind of cringe-worthy, greasy nonsense was that?
It was absolutely ridiculous—and yet, despite herself, she felt… light. Giddy, even.

What’s wrong with me?

Why did she find herself smiling, just a little? Why did her chest feel weirdly warm?

She lifted her head and stared blankly for a moment.
How can something so cheesy make me this happy?

This isn’t right.

She frowned deeply. Something felt off.

So off, in fact, that she started questioning herself—Was she even the same person anymore?

The whole thing was just… bizarre.

So bizarre that she couldn’t help but glance at Tan Hua suspiciously.
Did she cast some kind of spell on me?

Is that why I’m acting like this? Why I’m actually starting to… like her? Why just one line from her makes me feel like I’m floating?

Sheng Yiheng had never fully faced her feelings before. But now, with Tan Hua boldly tearing away every layer of pretense, she had no choice.

All those dark, unspoken thoughts—the ones she used to keep locked away—were now exposed under the bright light, raw and bare for anyone to see.

And for someone like Sheng Yiheng, someone who was always guarded, always in control, this felt like standing on a battlefield with her back turned to a stranger.

There was no safety.
No shield.
Only fear.

A quiet, growing fear… that she was starting to lose control.

It was all so strange that Sheng Yiheng couldn’t help but wonder—
Had her soul been switched with someone else’s?

Or worse—
She glanced at Tan Hua suspiciously.
Had she been cursed by her?

How else could she explain this growing attachment? This inability to resist her, to feel thrilled over something as simple as a casual comment?

She had never realized these feelings before. But ever since Tan Hua shamelessly kept tearing through every layer of denial between them, exposing every unspoken truth, Sheng Yiheng’s once-dark and hidden thoughts had been dragged mercilessly into the light. Bare and raw, left open to be seen and judged.

For someone who had always been cautious and reserved, it was like standing unarmed on a battlefield—leaving her back exposed to someone she didn’t even fully trust.

And deep down, she was terrified.

Her gaze fell on Tan Hua—quiet, focused, unwavering. Her eyes carried an obvious sense of scrutiny, like she was trying to stare a hole through her, trying to see something that could convince her she was still sane. That she hadn’t completely lost herself over this woman.

Tan Hua noticed the stare and narrowed her eyes slightly. She tilted her chin and gave a flirtatious smile.
“If you want to look, then close the door and window, and take a good, long look.”

Sheng Yiheng’s expression froze. Her gaze faltered, her face briefly stiff and awkward.

Tan Hua pointed toward the door.
“If you don’t have anything important to say, then go. Stop bothering me all the time.”

Sheng Yiheng blinked, caught off guard.
“Me? Bothering you?” She pointed to herself, shocked.
“You’re saying I am bothering you?”

She almost laughed in disbelief.
“How exactly am I bothering you?”
She stared wide-eyed, practically fuming.
“Why would I even want to bother you?”

Tan Hua shrugged, looking innocent.
“Well, I’m still your stand-in, aren’t I? You could use that as an excuse anytime to make me do things I don’t want to.”

Stand-in… Right. Sheng Yiheng had almost forgotten about that.

Technically, Tan Hua was still playing the role of a substitute. So in theory, she could make her do whatever she wanted—even…

Her heart thumped hard in her chest. Her pupils dilated slightly.

Tan Hua noticed the shift. Her lips curled into a knowing smirk.
“What are you thinking about?”

The blunt question startled Sheng Yiheng, yanking her out of her thoughts.
“Nothing,” she blurted, flustered, like a cat that had its tail stepped on.
“What could I possibly be thinking? I was just thinking about how I pay you such a high salary, yet you’re always slacking off at work. I’m the one losing out here—”

“President Sheng, do you not want to see me anymore?”
Tan Hua’s voice suddenly changed—soft, choked with emotion.

Her expression shifted to something a little sad, a little hurt.
“You’re being so mean to me now. Just tell me honestly—are you tired of me?”

Sheng Yiheng froze mid-sentence. Her irritation vanished.
“…I’m not.” The words escaped before she could think.

“Then why are you treating me like this?”
Tan Hua lowered her eyes.
“You weren’t like this before. I remember how, in the beginning, you used to be so patient with me. No matter how much I acted out, you never got mad.”

“But now…” She trailed off, not finishing the thought.

She didn’t need to. Sheng Yiheng already understood exactly what she was trying to say.

She shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to do. She lifted her foot slightly, wanting to step forward and comfort Tan Hua—but the right words, even though they were on the tip of her tongue, just wouldn’t come out.

Flustered, she scratched her head and mumbled,
“That’s not what I meant. Don’t overthink it.”

She struggled to explain, “We were just messing around, weren’t we? Like how you always act like a greasy, over-the-top dominant Omega in front of me.”

Tan Hua’s expression fell even more.

“You think I was mocking you?” she asked, looking hurt.

Sheng Yiheng suddenly realized she’d hit a nerve. Panic crept into her face as she waved her hands quickly in denial.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant at all. I just…”

But before she could finish, she saw Tan Hua’s eyes redden slightly. The Omega’s voice trembled.

“Everything I’ve said to you before… those were my real feelings. I meant every word.”

“You really thought I was just messing around with you?”
Tan Hua looked heartbroken. In one swift motion, she turned her head away, eyes shut, refusing to look at Sheng Yiheng.

Sheng Yiheng tried to take a step forward, but Tan Hua raised her hand to stop her.

“Just go.”
She issued the order directly.
“I have work to do.”

Tan Hua gave a self-mocking smile.
“Otherwise, in your eyes, I’ll just be another idle freeloader wasting company time again, won’t I?”

“I didn’t mean that, I…” Sheng Yiheng tried to explain, her mouth opening and closing as she searched for the right words. But before she could finish, Tan Hua stood up and walked straight toward her.

Sheng Yiheng instinctively stepped back. In just a few seconds, Tan Hua had pushed her all the way out of the office.

Standing at the doorway, Tan Hua stared at her with clear disappointment in her eyes. Then, without hesitation, she closed the door—and locked it with a crisp click, completely cutting off any further interaction.

And as if that weren’t enough, she reached over and pulled down the blinds, blocking Sheng Yiheng’s view entirely.

Now faced with nothing but a blank wall and a closed door, Sheng Yiheng stood frozen, staring at the snow-white surface in a daze.

Wait… what just happened?
Everything was fine a minute ago. How had it suddenly turned into this?

I didn’t even say anything that bad… Okay, maybe her tone was a little harsh. Maybe she sounded a bit cold. But that didn’t mean she was annoyed with Tan Hua. It definitely didn’t mean she was tired of her!

That was never her intention!

Sheng Yiheng felt like she’d swallowed bitterness and couldn’t spit it out—completely stuck.

Frustrated, she stepped up and knocked firmly on the door.

“Tan Hua, open the door. Let’s talk this out.”

But even as the words left her mouth, she realized it probably just made her sound even more aggressive. Quickly, she softened her tone.

“If there’s some kind of misunderstanding between us, I’d really prefer we sit down and talk about it calmly.”

A low, hoarse voice came from inside:

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You know better than anyone what your feelings toward me really are.”

Sheng Yiheng blinked.
“…What?”
No, I don’t. What feelings?

All I ever wanted was for her to work a little harder and make some good money for the company. Isn’t that perfectly reasonable?

Was there something else she was supposed to be aware of?

Sheng Yiheng wanted nothing more than to drag Tan Hua out and clarify everything right then and there. But the Omega had locked herself in tight, and she clearly wasn’t coming out.

So the two of them remained stuck—one inside, one outside—caught in an awkward, drawn-out standoff.

Eventually, Sheng Yiheng gave up, walking away in a daze.

Back at her desk, she collapsed into her chair, still stunned.
Wait a second. Did I just get CDA’d by an Omega?

In all her years, no one had ever twisted her words or misunderstood her like this. She felt like she hadn’t even done anything wrong, but somehow… it still ended up being all her fault?

For a long while, Sheng Yiheng sat in silence, completely lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Tan Hua had closed the blinds, locked the door, and stretched lazily with a satisfied sigh. She turned her attention back to her livestream.

Still, something tugged at her mind.

“Hey, system,” she called casually,
“Did you catch what Tang Yanrou said on the phone earlier?”

The system hesitated.
“No… not really,” it answered cautiously.
“Maybe… you should call her back and ask?”

Tan Hua shook her head.
“Forget it. If I didn’t hear it, then I didn’t hear it. It’s probably nothing important.”

Even if it was something major—if Tang Yanrou didn’t want to say it, then what right did she have to force it out of her?

Still, even as she tried to shrug it off, Tan Hua rested her chin on her hand, her thoughts lingering. Something about it felt… off.

On the other side of the city, Tang Yanrou held her phone in one hand, her gaze fixed on a new investigation report she had just received.

“You actually thought I was just joking with you?”
Tan Hua looked devastated. She turned her head sharply, shutting her eyes like she couldn’t bear to look at Sheng Yiheng another second.

Sheng Yiheng tried to step closer, but Tan Hua cut her off.
“Just go.”

She didn’t give any room for argument.
“I have work to do.”
Then she let out a bitter laugh.
“Wouldn’t want to give you the impression that I’m just another freeloader, wasting time on the company’s dime, not doing anything useful.”

“I didn’t mean that, I…” Sheng Yiheng opened her mouth, trying to explain herself again, but before she could get the words out, Tan Hua suddenly stood up and walked toward her.

Sheng Yiheng instinctively backed away, and within moments, Tan Hua had pushed her all the way out of the office.

She looked Sheng Yiheng in the eyes with obvious disappointment. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she shut the office door—and locked it.

With that one click, she cut off all further communication.

Just to make things absolutely clear, she reached over and pulled the blinds down too—completely blocking Sheng Yiheng’s view from the outside.

Faced with nothing but a blank white wall and a locked door, Sheng Yiheng stood frozen.

What… just happened?
Everything had been fine. How had things flipped so quickly?

I didn’t even say anything that bad.
Okay, maybe her tone was a little harsh—but how did that suddenly mean she was fed up with Tan Hua? That she was sick of her?

That wasn’t true at all!

Sheng Yiheng felt like she’d just swallowed a mouthful of bitter medicine with no way to spit it out.

She stepped forward and knocked—hard—on the door.
“Tan Hua, open the door. Let’s talk this through.”

Then she realized how that must sound and quickly softened her tone.

“If we’ve misunderstood each other, I’d really like to clear it up. Calmly. Face to face.”

A low voice floated out from behind the door.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You know exactly what your feelings toward me are.”

Sheng Yiheng blinked.
“Wait, what?”
No, I don’t. What feelings?

All she’d wanted was for Tan Hua to work hard and bring in more money for the company. What else was there?

That was it, wasn’t it?

She wanted to confront Tan Hua, to get clarity, but with the door locked and Tan Hua refusing to come out, there was no way forward. The two of them just stood—one inside, one outside—at a standstill for what felt like forever.

In the end, Sheng Yiheng gave up and left in a daze.

Back in her office, she dropped into her chair, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Wait… did I just get manipulated by an Omega?

In her entire life, no one had ever twisted her intentions so completely. She didn’t even think she’d done anything wrong—but somehow, by the end of the fight, it felt like everything was her fault.

Sheng Yiheng sat in silence, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Tan Hua, having locked the door and drawn the blinds, stretched comfortably and settled back into her livestream.

Still, something tugged at the edge of her mind.

She called out casually,
“Hey, system. Did you hear what Tang Yanrou said on the phone earlier?”

The system hesitated.
“…No. I didn’t catch it.”
Then, almost timidly, it suggested:
“Maybe you could call her back and ask?”

Tan Hua shook her head.
“Forget it. If I didn’t hear it, I didn’t hear it. It’s probably nothing important.”

Even if it was something big, if Tang Yanrou didn’t want to talk about it, what right did she have to force her?

Still, as Tan Hua rested her chin on her hand, she couldn’t help but feel like something about the conversation had been… off.

Elsewhere, Tang Yanrou was holding her phone quietly, her eyes fixed on a newly gathered set of investigation documents.

Sheng Yiheng felt like she’d just swallowed a bitter pill—one she couldn’t even complain about.

She couldn’t help but step forward and knock heavily on the office door.
“Tan Hua, open the door. Let’s talk this out properly.”

But then it hit her—wouldn’t this come off as aggressive again? Would Tan Hua just see her as some overbearing tyrant?

So she quickly softened her voice.
“If there’s a misunderstanding between us, I’d really like for us to sit down calmly and talk it through.”

A low, raspy voice floated from behind the door.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You know exactly how you feel about me.”

Sheng Yiheng blinked.
“…Do I?”
No, she genuinely didn’t. What could she possibly feel?

All she wanted was for Tan Hua to be a little more productive, make a bit more money for the company. That’s it.

Was there supposed to be something more?

She wanted to press the issue, to get clarity, but the Omega had locked the door, and clearly had no intention of coming out. So the two of them stayed that way—one inside, one outside—stuck for the better part of the day, until Sheng Yiheng eventually walked away, dazed and defeated.

Back in her office, she dropped into her chair, still reeling.

Did I just get emotionally steamrolled by an Omega?

In all her years, no one had ever misunderstood her this badly. She honestly didn’t think she had done anything wrong, but somehow, by the end of the fight, everything felt like it was her fault.

Sheng Yiheng sat there, quietly spiraling.

Meanwhile, Tan Hua had locked the door, lowered the blinds, and stretched out comfortably before returning to her livestream.

Still…

She called out,
“Hey, system. Did you catch what Tang Yanrou said on the phone earlier?”

The system paused, then replied hesitantly,
“No… I didn’t. Maybe you should give her a quick call and ask?”

Tan Hua shook her head.
“Forget it. If I didn’t hear it, I didn’t hear it. It’s probably not a big deal anyway.”

Even if it was important—if Tang Yanrou didn’t want to say it herself, there was no point in forcing it out of her.

Still, Tan Hua rested her chin on her hand, feeling an unshakable sense of unease. Something just didn’t sit right.

Meanwhile, Tang Yanrou sat with her phone in hand, her gaze fixed on a newly compiled set of investigation documents.

It was a complete report on Cheng Yuan—her family background, upbringing, social connections… everything. Not a single detail had been missed.

Tang Yanrou stared at the file for a long time before finally setting her phone down and picking up the thick folder. She flipped open a page.

Know your enemy, and you’ll win every battle.
Even if Cheng Yuan posed no immediate threat—truthfully, they might never even cross paths in a meaningful way—just thinking about the delicate, helpless look on the Omega’s face made Tang Yanrou’s fingers tighten around the paper.

She couldn’t sit back and do nothing.
Even if what she was doing crossed boundaries.
Even if Tan Hua might end up resenting her for it.

She had made up her mind: she would interfere.

Because she needed to protect that fragile little wild lily that had quietly taken root in her heart—shaky and windblown, but still growing.

A flower that belonged only to her. One so rare and pure, it had pulled in Tang Yanrou’s entire soul.

Because of what Tang Yanrou said on the phone, Tan Hua had been reminded of the original host’s background. So, on a rare impulse, she reached out to the local troublemaker she had contact info for.

“Big bro, any updates on what I asked you to look into?”

The reply came quickly:
“Got a lead.”

His name was He Yi—a well-known businessman in the area, deeply connected on both sides of the law. He had ties with all kinds of people, and when he wasn’t running his businesses, he had a fondness for high-interest lending—sending money out and collecting it back with steep returns.

Tan Hua’s original parents weren’t the only ones who’d failed to repay him, but they were the only ones bold enough to try and scam him.

“How’s that?” Tan Hua perked up.
“Did they finally confess? Did they admit I’m not their biological daughter? That I was kidnapped or something?”

“No.”
He Yi’s reply was short and clipped, like even typing more would be a waste of effort.

Tan Hua frowned and quickly typed back:
“Maybe your tactics aren’t tough enough? Want to try some of those torture scenes from crime dramas? I bet they’ll crack.”

He Yi finally paused and responded:
“?? Are you the debt collector or am I?”

Reading the message, He Yi couldn’t help but laugh.
How is this girl even scarier than I am?

He replied again, amused:
“Aren’t you worried you’ve got it all wrong? That maybe they really are your biological parents?”

“So, what if they are?” Tan Hua responded nonchalantly.
“If they are, then this is just life teaching them a hard lesson.”

“You play with fire long enough, you get burned. They treated me like crap for years—they deserve a little payback.”
She swung her leg lazily as she typed, thinking,
Honestly, the only reason I haven’t sent someone to rough them up yet is because I’m too kind.

He Yi stared at his screen for a moment, then chuckled.
“I like your attitude.”
He added,
“Don’t worry, Miss Tan. I’ll do everything I can to help you uncover the truth about your background.”

There was a teasing tone in his words, but Tan Hua didn’t mind. She just sent back two fist-bump emojis with a grin.

“Thanks in advance on behalf of my future real parents, big bro.”

Tang Yanrou stared at her phone for a long while before slowly setting it down and picking up the thick stack of documents beside her. She casually flipped open a page.

Know your enemy, win every battle.
Even if Cheng Yuan posed no actual threat—and realistically, the two of them might never even cross paths—just thinking of that fragile, helpless face made Tang Yanrou’s fingers tighten around the paper.

She couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

Even if her involvement crossed personal boundaries. Even if her actions might eventually push the Omega away. Tang Yanrou had still made up her mind—she would intervene.

Because she had to protect the delicate wild lily that had rooted itself deep in her heart—shaking in the wind, vulnerable and beautiful.

A flower that belonged only to her.

The only flower pure enough to draw her in completely, down to her soul.

Thanks to Tang Yanrou’s earlier mention of it, Tan Hua found herself thinking again about the original host’s background. For once, she decided to follow up.

She opened a chat with a shady local contact she’d added some time ago.

“Big bro, any progress on that thing I asked you to look into?”

The reply came almost instantly:
“Got a lead.”

The man’s name was He Yi. He was a well-known figure in the local business scene, with deep connections in both legal and illegal circles. He had friends in high places, and others in dark corners.

Aside from running businesses, his favorite pastime was lending money out at high interest rates—and making a hefty profit collecting it back.

Tan Hua’s original parents weren’t the only ones who had defaulted on his loans, but they were the only ones who had dared to try scamming him.

“How’s that?” Tan Hua’s interest was immediately piqued.
“Did they confess? Did they finally admit I’m not really their daughter? That I was taken or something?”

“No.”
The reply was short and flat, like he didn’t even want to waste words.

Tan Hua frowned and typed again:
“Maybe you’re not being tough enough? Want to try some of those torture methods from TV dramas? I refuse to believe they won’t crack.”

That finally got He Yi’s attention.
“??”
Wait, who’s the thug here—you or me?

Reading her tone and wild suggestions, he almost thought this girl was more ruthless than him.

He couldn’t help but laugh.
“Aren’t you worried you’re wrong? That they might actually be your real parents?”
He asked, half amused.
“Without the DNA results, nothing’s certain, right?”

“So what?” Tan Hua replied indifferently.
“Even if they are, they still deserve a little suffering. Let’s just say it’s society finally teaching them a hard lesson.”

“They’ve been walking along the riverbank for years—it was only a matter of time before they slipped and got wet. Especially after how they treated me before.”
She kicked her feet up, thinking to herself,
Honestly, I’ve been kind. I haven’t even sent someone to beat them up for what they did to the original host.

He Yi stared at the screen and finally chuckled aloud.

“I like your attitude.”
He praised her without holding back.
“Don’t worry, Miss Tan. I’ll make sure we find out the truth about your identity.”

His words still carried a street-smart tone, a little teasing, almost mocking—but Tan Hua didn’t care. She just sent back two clasped-hands emojis and replied cheerfully:

“Then let me thank you in advance—on behalf of my future real parents.”

“Oh, and Big Bro?”
“Better move fast. I don’t think I’ve got that much time left in this world.”

Not much time left?
He Yi paused, confused.
What does that mean?
Is she terminally ill? Or something else?

He didn’t know. But one thing became crystal clear in his mind—
If he wanted to get the hefty reward she’d promised, then he needed to get answers fast.

He set his phone down. His face turned cold and ruthless.

The black cane in his hand tapped twice on the floor in front of the couple seated before him.

“I don’t want to repeat myself.”
His voice was low and sharp.
“Do you understand?”

The couple’s faces turned pale. They started crying, pleading between choked sobs:

“Mr. He, please—we’re not lying! Tan Hua really is our biological daughter!”

But the moment they caught the impatient look on He Yi’s face, their words dried up. Their bodies tensed, and they dared not utter another sound.

He Yi let out a tired sigh and tossed an old photo onto the table in front of the couple.

“Take a good look. Tell me—what part of that girl looks like either of you?”

The man stammered, trying to come up with an excuse:
“M-Maybe it skipped a generation. Really, she looks exactly like my grandmother. I swear—she inherited my grandmother’s features!”

He Yi stared at him with a blank expression.
“Do I look like an idiot to you?”

The man instinctively shook his head.
He Yi sneered.
“Then why are you telling me such a ridiculous lie, huh?”

With a swift flick, the hiking cane in his hand spun through the air like a baton.

“Last chance.”
He lowered his voice, every word cutting like a blade.
“If you’re still not going to be honest… hand, foot, or mouth—pick one.”

The man turned to the woman in panic, silently begging for help. But she just looked away, her head bowed low, avoiding his eyes completely.

He Yi smiled faintly.
“Still not talking?”

“Then make your choice.”
He gestured for someone to bring out a knife and casually held it against the man’s body, toying with it.

The moment the man saw the glint of the blade, his legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground.

“No, no, please—don’t! I’ll talk, I’ll talk!”
He sobbed and wailed, clinging to the last bit of courage he had.

Back on her end, Tan Hua quickly received a message from He Yi. The update was simple but significant: there had been a breakthrough regarding her original identity.

She was thrilled and immediately sent him a small red envelope as a thank-you gesture.

The system, however, was baffled.
“Host, why do you care so much about the original body’s background? Does finding out the truth even help our mission?”

“Nope,” Tan Hua replied flatly, not even looking up from her phone.

“Then why bother?” The system was genuinely confused.

“Well, they came to me about it first, and I already paid for it.”
Tan Hua yawned lazily.
“Besides, I’ve got nothing better to do at work right now. Learning more about myself can’t hurt.”

She added with a sly smile,
“Who knows—what if I turn out to be the long-lost daughter of some ultra-rich tycoon? If that’s the case, why would I keep grinding away at strategy missions? I could just have my parents snatch up Zheng Jinyu and the others and marry them off to me.”

“Wouldn’t that be easier?”

The system was silent for a moment.

You’re not only plotting forced marriage—you’re plotting multiple ones at once?

Its metaphorical face twitched.
It longed for the good old days when it could zap Tan Hua with a sharp jolt whenever she got out of line. Sadly, those days were over.

The system sighed internally.
Now, only the female lead had the power to make Tan Hua feel pain.

…Wait. No—there were still the Alphas!

A lightbulb went off in its head.
The system perked up and immediately tried to fan the flames:
“Host! The female lead just contacted Sheng Yiheng.”

Tan Hua’s eyes remained on the screen as she asked casually,
“Oh? What did she say?”

“She told Sheng Yiheng when she’s returning to the country,” the system said, trying to stir things up.
“Wanna guess if Sheng Yiheng will tell you? Give you a heads-up out of courtesy?”

Tan Hua saw straight through the system’s little scheme.

“Are you trying to stir up trouble between me and Sheng Yiheng?”

The system blinked innocently.
“What would I even gain from that?”
It rubbed up to her like a guilty cat.
“Host, you’re the most important person in my whole existence. Of course everything I do is for your sake.”

Tan Hua clearly wasn’t buying it.

The system quickly doubled down.
“Think about it, Host—if Sheng Yiheng is already hiding something like this from you, doesn’t that mean you’re at a disadvantage?”

“How are you supposed to finish your strategy mission smoothly like that?”

That did make sense. Tan Hua glanced at the system with approval.
“Looks like your upgrade did make you smarter. I’m impressed.”

The system smiled proudly and pushed further,
“So should we go test the waters? It’ll be a good chance to gauge your progress with Sheng Yiheng…”

“No.”
Tan Hua cut it off instantly.

The system’s expression nearly twisted into a frown as Tan Hua added lazily,
“We just had a fight. I can’t go running back this quickly—it would ruin my dignity.”

“Besides, the one who should be worried about the female lead returning early is her, not me.”

Her smile deepened.
“I’m just the stand-in. What do I have to panic about? In fact, I hope that day comes soon—so I can see for myself whether my strategy worked.”

The system: “…”

—

As for Sheng Yiheng, she really was worried.

But ‘worried’ didn’t fully capture it. Words like guilty and uneasy probably fit better.

She had mentally prepared herself for Cheng Yuan’s return—but not this soon. The date had moved up by one or two months, well ahead of schedule.

Now she was starting to panic.

What would happen to Tan Hua when Cheng Yuan came back?

Would she have to kick her out of the company? Let her wander the streets on her own?

Wait—Sheng Yiheng jolted upright at the thought.
Given her past with Zheng Jinyu, the moment she was pushed out, Zheng Jinyu would no doubt swoop in to scoop Tan Hua up and take her home with open arms.

No. Absolutely not.

If Tan Hua was going to end up on the streets, then she could only sleep on the sidewalk outside Shengyuan Group’s building.

That was non-negotiable.

Sheng Yiheng lowered her gaze, staring at the text message on her phone for a long while. Then, without hesitation, she replied:

“Take care of yourself. I won’t be picking you up this time.”

Cheng Yuan frowned. Her mood dipped.

“Why not?”

Why? Sheng Yiheng stared blankly at her phone. She hadn’t even thought of a decent excuse yet when another message came through:

“Is it because of that Omega, Tan Hua?”

“Did you fall for her too?”

The classic heartbroken protagonist: “Too?”

Female Lead: Ha. The fish in your pond? All gone.