The Five Heartless Scumbag Alphas Turned Against Each Other Because Of Me - Chapter 93

The Omega was back to playing dumb. Lu Huaixu’s eyes narrowed slightly, her expression turning visibly cold. It was clear she believed Tan Hua was one of those people who wouldn’t cry until they saw the coffin.

She stared unblinkingly at her, eyes sharp, already weighing her next move.

Tan Hua, seeing her reaction, thought to herself: But my answer wasn’t wrong, was it? Of course I look at people with my eye

What else am I supposed to use?

Determined to play dumb to the end, she plastered on her most innocent face. Just as Lu Huaixu opened her mouth to speak, Tan Hua suddenly flopped down like a salted fish, dramatically pulling the covers over herself and closing her eyes in serene peace as if to say, “I’m asleep. Don’t bother me.”

Lu Huaixu: “…”

There was really no need to pretend to be dead, especially since she had never intended to keep questioning her.

The Omega was a master at spinning stories, with barely a word of truth in her mouth, and her personality was as slippery as a wet eel. At this point, Lu Huaixu figured she’d get results faster by launching a direct investigation rather than trying to interrogate her.

There was no hope of extracting anything useful from Tan Hua.

Without another word, Lu Huaixu pulled out her phone and walked to the far side of the room. Standing by the window, she began speaking softly into the receiver, giving quiet instructions.

Hearing the faint sounds of conversation, Tan Hua couldn’t resist cracking open one eye. She watched Lu Huaixu through a tiny slit in her lashes, trying to read her movements and maybe even her lips.

But just as her gaze landed on the Alpha, Lu Huaixu seemed to sense it. Without looking back, she shifted her body slightly—just enough to block Tan Hua’s line of sight and prevent her from seeing or hearing anything.

Tan Hua’s spying attempt was a complete failure. She pouted slightly.
So stingy.

It’s not like you’re revealing state secrets. Can’t I at least listen in a little?

Her fingers played idly with the bedsheet. Then, for a brief moment, an unsettling thought flickered through her mind—

What if Lu Huaixu really is hiding something from me?

Or even if she wasn’t hiding anything now… she definitely was scheming something at this very moment. And that something probably had to do with her.

Tan Hua’s thoughts paused, then shifted again.
Or maybe… it’s about the female lead?

After all, Cheng Yuan had just returned to the country and was already involved in a near-death incident. Even if she and Lu Huaixu were no longer romantically involved, they’d known each other for years—shared so much time and history—they were practically family by now. There’s no way Lu Huaixu could hear about what happened and remain completely indifferent.

Tan Hua felt her reasoning was sound. She gave the tiniest of nods to affirm her own theory.

Lu Huaixu, catching the movement in the reflection of the glass, furrowed her brows slightly—but quickly smoothed her expression.

“The surveillance footage is copied? Good. Send it to me directly.”

What happened to Cheng Yuan today was too strange for Lu Huaixu to believe it was just coincidence. But more than that, what really gnawed at her was:

Why was Tan Hua there?
Why was she there just in time to save Cheng Yuan?

It was all… a little too perfect.

Lu Huaixu had a strong feeling that Tan Hua was still hiding something. And that something—might very well be tied to why she’d ever fallen for Cheng Yuan in the first place, and why that love had lingered for so long.

For now, she was only grateful she’d managed to wake up from that entanglement. Unlike Zheng Jinyu, who still seemed completely lost in the pull of Cheng Yuan’s orbit.

The truth was, Zheng Jinyu herself wasn’t even sure how she felt anymore.

Her heart was in turmoil. She was completely captivated by Tan Hua—drawn in, unable to let go. But at the same time, her feelings for Cheng Yuan hadn’t really changed either.

Whenever she looked at that pure, kind girl in front of her, her heart would still skip a beat uncontrollably.

Zheng Jinyu was all too familiar with this feeling. The scholars called it “heart aflutter”, a beautiful, intoxicating sensation.
But right now, she couldn’t savor the joy of reunion—not even a little. She was flustered and lost, completely unsure how to face Cheng Yuan.

Standing in front of her, Zheng Jinyu felt both guilty and apologetic. It seemed no matter what, she had let Cheng Yuan down.
She had broken promises she once swore she’d never violate.
She had failed to live up to the expectations Cheng Yuan had placed in her.

And as for asking for forgiveness… Zheng Jinyu knew she had no right to beg for something so intangible.

The two of them stood silently facing each other for a long time before Zheng Jinyu finally broke the silence.
“Yuan Yuan,” she called softly, lowering her head slightly. Watching the calm, almost indifferent expression on Cheng Yuan’s face, she asked,
“You weren’t hurt just now, were you?”

“No.”
Cheng Yuan responded flatly, her tone betraying little emotion. She even had the composure to add,
“Miss Tan seems to be more seriously injured.”

“So I think… right now, the person you should be more worried about is her.”

Zheng Jinyu couldn’t tell what Cheng Yuan was feeling from her voice. She was at a loss, her throat tightening, as if something had lodged itself there and refused to move. She couldn’t say a word.

Cheng Yuan stared at her quietly. To say she felt nothing would be a lie. After all, she’d known Zheng Jinyu for so many years. And with Zheng Jinyu’s unwavering devotion all this time, it was only natural that, without realizing it, Cheng Yuan had started seeing her as her own.

Humans were strange creatures—selfish and greedy.
When they saw something beautiful, something they liked, they instinctively wanted to claim it as theirs, even when they already had more than enough.

Truthfully, among all her admirers, Zheng Jinyu had never been Cheng Yuan’s favorite.
But because of her deep, steadfast affection—because of the way she had always made it clear that she would choose no one else—Cheng Yuan couldn’t help but be moved by her.
And eventually, she developed that dangerous, possessive emotion: ownership.

Even though she and Zheng Jinyu had never officially been together, Cheng Yuan had always felt that Zheng Jinyu belonged to her.
That she was her Alpha—one no one else had the right to touch.

She expected Zheng Jinyu to always like her, to remain loyal and devoted.
Even if countless exceptional Omegas came chasing after her, Zheng Jinyu should turn them all away—because that’s what loyalty meant.

And Zheng Jinyu had done exactly that for years.

So Cheng Yuan never doubted her—until Tan Hua appeared.
So sudden. So unexpected.

From the moment Tan Hua showed up, Zheng Jinyu began to change.
She, who used to react only to Cheng Yuan’s emotions, now seemed moved by someone else.
She would rush to Tan Hua’s side the second something happened to her.
She would look at Tan Hua lying unconscious in that hospital bed—with worry, with tenderness… with the same gaze Cheng Yuan knew all too well.

That gaze was once hers alone.

And now, Zheng Jinyu seemed smaller, too—humble in a way she had never been. As if everything she did revolved around that Omega. As if she were willing to endure anything from her, without complaint.

That… was something Cheng Yuan had never experienced, not in all the years she’d known her.

Seeing this now, it stirred something bitter in her chest. A jealousy that she couldn’t quite suppress.

And yet—Tan Hua had just saved her life.

So that emotional jealousy and rational gratitude clashed violently inside her, leaving Cheng Yuan emotionally tangled and unsure how to feel about Tan Hua anymore.

Tan Hua seemed like a good person.

But she had taken Zheng Jinyu.

And she had taken Sheng Yiheng, too.

She seemed to have stolen several things that Cheng Yuan… cared about.

Even if Zheng Jinyu and Sheng Yiheng were just minor characters in the grand harem of her life—insignificant, replaceable—Cheng Yuan couldn’t help but feel shaken.

It had all happened too fast.

And she… couldn’t quite accept it.

Zheng Jinyu knew she had wronged Cheng Yuan, so she didn’t argue or try to talk her way out of it. Instead, she lowered her head, her tone earnest and apologetic as she said repeatedly,
“I’m sorry. It was all my fault.”

“If I had driven to the airport to pick you up on time, this never would’ve happened.” Zheng Jinyu’s voice was full of self-reproach.
“I’m the one who put you in danger.”

“It was my mistake. I failed you both.”

Though Zheng Jinyu said as much, Cheng Yuan knew this incident wasn’t something she could really blame her for. If the target had truly been her—and her alone—then it wouldn’t have mattered who came to pick her up. Whether it had been Zheng Jinyu, Lu Huaixu, or anyone else, whether early or late, she still wouldn’t have been able to escape.

Her attacker would’ve made sure she died in an “accident.”

She understood this very clearly. That’s why she didn’t resent Zheng Jinyu for it.

“This isn’t your fault, Jinyu-jie,” Cheng Yuan said, shaking her head.
“Even if you had come to pick me up, this still could have happened.”

“And in that case, you might have gotten hurt too.”

She wasn’t just saying it to be polite—Zheng Jinyu knew that. So she quietly promised,
“Don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“No matter how long it takes.”

Hearing that, Cheng Yuan let out a quiet, almost amused breath. She listened to the Alpha’s promise without much reaction, then suddenly lost interest in staying any longer.
“Then I’ll thank you in advance, Jinyu-jie.”

“I need to head to the police station, so please excuse me.”

She held her bag neatly in front of her, gave a small nod of farewell, and without hesitation, turned and walked away.

Her departure was swift and decisive. Zheng Jinyu instinctively wanted to call out to her, but the words caught in her throat at the last moment.

Maybe she really doesn’t want to see me right now.

Zheng Jinyu couldn’t help but think: Cheng Yuan doesn’t want to see me. Tan Hua doesn’t want to see me either…

She gave a bitter smile. When did I become the kind of Alpha people avoid?

She stood dazed in the long corridor, feeling as though she’d been tossed into a surging sea, drifting helplessly without an anchor.

Zheng Jinyu was gone for so long that Tan Hua started to worry something had happened to her.

But she didn’t have much time to think about it—because Mu Wanyi suddenly arrived, dragging herself in despite her illness. She looked deathly pale, utterly drained, like she might faint at any moment.

Tan Hua was startled by her condition and quickly sat up, making room on the hospital bed.
“Lie down first.”

Mu Wanyi tried to refuse, but Tan Hua gently pushed her down. The effort of rushing over had already sapped Mu Wanyi of all her strength, and since she couldn’t resist, she gave in and accepted the kindness.

“How did you end up with Cheng Yuan?” Mu Wanyi asked, keeping her voice low and casting a wary glance at Lu Huaixu.
“Where is she now?”

She looked around anxiously, clearly on edge.

“She’s gone,” Tan Hua said, patting her shoulder reassuringly.
“Don’t worry, she left over ten minutes ago.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Mu Wanyi frowned, staring at Tan Hua disapprovingly.
“Do you even know what kind of person she is? And you still dared to hang out with her?”

“Are you tired of living or something?”

Truthfully, Tan Hua didn’t know much about Cheng Yuan—her only knowledge came from the original novel. So she blinked and asked curiously,
“What kind of person is she?”

Mu Wanyi glanced at Lu Huaixu again. Only when she was sure the Alpha was preoccupied did she relax a little. Then, in a voice so low only the two of them could hear, she whispered:

“She might be the darling of the Alphas—beautiful, accomplished, irresistible—but to us Omegas, she’s nothing but the ultimate manipulative white lotus.”

Mu Wanyi’s tone dripped with disdain.
“Who else would act like her? Flirting with one Alpha after another, stirring their feelings only to leave them hanging. No accountability. No guilt.”

“As far as I know, there must be dozens—maybe even a hundred—Alphas who’ve been strung along by her. They’re all so taken by her looks that they fall head over heels. But in reality? They’re just toys to her, little distractions when she’s bored.”

Mu Wanyi let out a cold laugh.
“Someone like Cheng Yuan? Only those crass, lust-blinded Alphas would be into her.”

Tan Hua fell silent for a moment. Only after a long pause, under Mu Wanyi’s expression of visible disgust, did she finally speak up:
“Well… I guess I’m just like her then. Got nothing better to do, so I go around shamelessly flirting with everyone?”

Mu Wanyi: “…”

For several long seconds, it looked like her mental CPU had completely short-circuited. Finally, she managed to force out a strained attempt at a defense:
“No, you’re different. She only goes after Alphas. But you—you’re… equal opportunity. Alpha, Beta, Omega—you don’t discriminate.”

“I can still tell the difference between a manipulative white lotus and a complete beast.”

Tan Hua: “?” [cue the subway grandpa reading phone meme]

Her eyes narrowed slightly. In a voice dripping with cold sarcasm, she asked,
“Wanna say that again?”

Mu Wanyi immediately flinched.
“N-no, I didn’t say anything,” she stammered, wisely changing the subject. Then, with renewed seriousness, she began warning Tan Hua once again:
“You really shouldn’t get too close to her.”

“You’ve already taken a few of her top-tier Alphas. She’s not going to let that slide.”

“She has a better family background than you, a broader network, and more tricks up her sleeve than you can imagine. She won’t hesitate to make life hard for you.”
Mu Wanyi looked at Tan Hua, visibly worried.
“And you? Besides relying on Lu Huaixu and begging for help, what do you even have to fight back with?”

“Who says I stole her Alphas?” Tan Hua looked genuinely offended.
“If she doesn’t mind… we could all just be together.”

She hadn’t even finished the sentence before Mu Wanyi clapped a hand over her mouth in horror.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

All together? That kind of thinking would only send her straight to her doom!

Mu Wanyi looked like Tan Hua had just given her a heart attack. She frantically shook her head and waved her arms.
“Please—never, ever say things like that again.”

“It’s one thing to joke around with me. But if you say something like that in front of Cheng Yuan, she’ll think you’re trying to provoke her. People like her—those ‘chosen ones’—they’re arrogant to the bone and look down on everyone.”

Her tone grew increasingly agitated. Her contempt for Cheng Yuan was anything but subtle. Tan Hua listened quietly, and then, unable to hold it in, whispered to the system:
“She’s giving off that vibe.”

System: “? What vibe?”

Tan Hua:
“The classic cannon-fodder villainess energy. You know—blind hatred for the heroine, inexplicable hostility, and rushing headfirst into destruction. The female lead hasn’t even done anything yet, and they’re already tripping over themselves to get on her kill list…”

The system had been listening intently, completely caught up in the conversation—until suddenly, Tan Hua went silent.

Confused, it turned its attention to her and then followed her gaze toward Mu Wanyi.

Mu Wanyi’s white shirt collar was gradually being soaked with blood. The sudden bleeding made her already pale lips look even more colorless, almost ghostly.

Tan Hua’s expression instantly collapsed. Her face darkened, and the intense change made Mu Wanyi’s heart begin to race with unease. She stammered nervously,
“W-What’s wrong?”

Instinctively, she raised her hand to touch the back of her neck where the wound was—but Tan Hua quickly stopped her.

“What happened to your neck?” Tan Hua asked sharply.

“N-Nothing,” Mu Wanyi replied, trying her best to stay calm. But before she could say anything else, Tan Hua grabbed her jaw and forcefully turned her head to the side.

Then came Tan Hua’s voice, low and trembling with anger:
“You secretly went to a back-alley clinic and had your gland removed?”

“…Yeah…”
Mu Wanyi suddenly felt guilty. She didn’t even know why. After all, wasn’t it Tan Hua who brought up the idea first?
Shouldn’t Tan Hua be glad that she actually went through with it?

She turned her head slightly, wanting to explain, but before she could speak, Tan Hua slammed her hand down and repeatedly pressed the emergency call button without hesitation.

Mu Wanyi stared at her, eyes wide. Tan Hua’s face was expressionless—but something about it made her feel a wave of fear. Her chest tightened, her nose stung, and her eyes suddenly began to water.

For the first time… in Tan Hua’s seemingly cold eyes, she saw worry.

Mu Wanyi couldn’t believe it.

She and Tan Hua had always been “plastic” friends—fake to the core. They had spent years constantly comparing themselves to each other. If one was doing well, the other didn’t offer support; she’d rather drag her down and make sure she stayed there.

They were never happy for each other’s success. They always wanted to come out on top, because losing meant being mocked and outshined forever.

But now, Tan Hua… was genuinely worried about her.

Mu Wanyi felt her eyes sting with emotion.

Tan Hua’s sudden action caught Lu Huaixu’s attention. She watched for a moment, then walked over quickly and asked,
“What’s going on?”

“Call a doctor,” Tan Hua said, her face still unreadable.

Lu Huaixu frowned, as if wanting to ask more, but before she could, Mu Wanyi suddenly smiled. A wide, exaggerated smile pulled across her pale face, making her expression almost disturbing.

But she didn’t seem to care.

Looking straight at Lu Huaixu, she said cheerfully and without warning:
“She cares about me.”

Lu Huaixu blinked, unsure what to make of it.

But Mu Wanyi didn’t stop. The moment she saw Sheng Yiheng arrive at the door, she raised her voice dramatically and declared:

“Tan Hua loves me!”

“I’m the most important person in her heart—none of you can compare!”

Sheng Yiheng: “…?”

Tan Hua: “…???”

Tan Hua sat bolt upright in the hospital bed, face full of disbelief.
Wait—what is wrong with her?!

Mu Wanyi (in her own world):
After the divorce, disgraced and penniless… she’s the only one who still truly cares about me. (x)

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