The Heartless Alpha Just Wants to Follow the Plot - Chapter 13

Su Mo: “……”

She ruffled her long hair in mild frustration. Looks like she wasn’t getting out of this.

“Fine. Find us two high-security single apartments. I’ll take one, she’ll take the other.”

Pu Ying asked, “Do you want them next to each other?”

Su Mo gave up struggling. “Just put us side-by-side.”

Pu Ying gave her a meaningful look. “Then you’d better work hard. Once you two go public, at least you’ll have the groundwork done.”

“In five years, you’ll have two kids, and the old man can finally relax.”

Su Mo choked violently on her juice. “Pff—cough, cough, cough!”

What two kids in five years? Wasn’t that a little horrifying?

“No, no, absolutely not.”

She shook her head hard. “You’re exaggerating. We’re not anywhere near that level.”

But Pu Ying calmly adjusted her glasses. “You never know. Heat periods are when conception is easiest. As long as you put in the effort, pregnancy is just a matter of time.”

Su Mo: “……”

Seeing that Pu Ying was gearing up to lecture her on fertility rates during heat cycles, Su Mo hurried to interrupt, “It’s not what you think. I just helped her suppress her reaction to the medication. Nothing else happened.”

Thinking of that kiss with Qiu Fu, Su Mo’s cheeks warmed. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, there were no extra intentions. I would’ve helped anyone in that situation.”

At those words, Pu Ying’s gaze deepened with implications.

“I knew you hadn’t changed.”

Su Mo: “……”

Someone save her—she really hadn’t!

Pu Ying pushed up her glasses again, putting away her teasing. “Alright. I’ll have people arrange the apartment. Whether you want to accept her or just play around, that’s up to you.”

Su Mo wanted to scream. She really wasn’t some hormone-crazed maniac. But given her predecessor’s reputation, refusing too much would only make her seem suspicious. So, she could only nod vaguely.

Whatever, whatever. They could think whatever they liked.

When Qiu Fu learned Su Mo had arranged a place for her, her emotions were complicated. They were supposed to be mortal enemies, yet now she not only accepted Su Mo’s help, but also had her pay the penalty fees—and now even housing was handled by Su Mo.

This “mortal enemy” title was starting to fall apart.

Pu Ying brought her to the newly purchased apartment. Technically, an assistant could’ve done it, but she came along so she wouldn’t get lost—and because there were things she wanted to say to Qiu Fu.

Once the door opened, delivery bots quickly sent over Qiu Fu’s packed belongings.

Pu Ying poured two glasses of water and waved Qiu Fu over. “Sit.”

Qiu Fu sat down. She had already noticed: the apartment had excellent security measures, complete entertainment facilities, even a private gym and recording room—everything one could need.

This kind of high-end residence, in the Imperial Capital, wasn’t for rent—only for sale. Definitely Su Mo’s style.

Pu Ying began, “You’re signed under Feimu now, but according to the persona Qi Huan Entertainment created for you, you and Su Mo should be sworn enemies. Now that you’re here, do you want to keep that persona or change it?”

She spoke pragmatically. Either option was fine; Su Mo wouldn’t care.

But then.

“Because your sudden closeness with Su Mo will easily make the internet assume you’re being kept by her. But Su Mo has no such intention. I’ve observed you for a long time—you’re not someone who’d be content living off someone else.”

Qiu Fu tightened her lips, holding her cup, eyes steady as she waited for her to continue.

Pu Ying didn’t hesitate. “Online rumors—we can let them run loose for now. They can help create momentum for your departure from Qi Huan Entertainment. In this situation, Qi Huan Entertainment will definitely release scandals about you. Real or fake, it’ll negatively impact your future.”

“If we bind you and Su Mo together publicly, it’ll help you—but also hurt you. She has many enemies, and frankly, she’s too blunt for her own good. It’s caused misunderstandings. Her reputation in the industry isn’t great.”

Not just “isn’t great”—she was practically notorious.

But Qiu Fu didn’t expose the understatement. She simply nodded for her to continue.

Pu Ying remained serious. “If you two tie yourselves together publicly, you’ll face a lot of criticism. In the short term, it won’t benefit you. And she’s currently filming. Si Yu seems interested in creating some CP buzz with her.”

Qiu Fu’s fingers tightened around her cup, something unreadable flickering in her downcast eyes.

Pu Ying continued, “My suggestion: keep marketing the ‘sworn enemy’ image between you two. Don’t appear too close on the star network. Privately is fine, but publicly, maintain the persona.”

“As for the future.”

Pu Ying caught the lingering scent of milk-candy pheromones on Qiu Fu. Her good mood faded. “Whether you end up separating or staying together, it can all be developed from this persona later.”

Qiu Fu took a sip of water. “I have no objections.”

Pu Ying stood, straightening her clothes. “Good. I’ll go update Su Mo.”

Qiu Fu walked her to the door. Just before leaving, Pu Ying said suddenly:

“Don’t fall for her.”

Hand on the doorknob, Qiu Fu froze. “What?”

Pu Ying paused, then said, “Nothing.”

After she left, Qiu Fu replayed that last sentence and more or less understood what she meant.

But why would Pu Ying think she’d fall for Su Mo?

Yes, Su Mo had helped her a lot, but fall for her? That was too far.

She’d been in the industry long enough—if she was that easily swayed, she wouldn’t be who she was today.

Still, why did Pu Ying feel the need to warn her at all?

Did she say this every time Su Mo helped someone?

【Ding!】

Seeing that she’d finally received a reply, Su Mo sat up and opened the message. Inside was a detailed explanation—why the military hadn’t appeared, why the Zerg had suddenly emerged, and a whole string of speculations.

It stated that the army had been deliberately diverted, and the Zerg eggs had been maliciously planted by someone. They hadn’t yet identified the culprit, only that the people involved held high status, making the investigation difficult.

As for the military’s sudden redeployment, it was because a strange cave had been discovered not far away. Inside were many Zerg eggs, and several were already beginning to hatch—an extremely dangerous situation.

The later part of the report speculated that the group responsible for redirecting the military and the one who planted the eggs were likely the same people. Although the Su family had plenty of enemies, very few would dare to target Su Mo so boldly with such methods.

To leave no trace at all, and to carry out something requiring such a high degree of counter-investigation ability, they were almost certainly connected to some powerful figures above.

Even if Old Master Su personally stepped in, going against people like that would not be easy.

Su Mo fell into deep thought as she read.

【System, wasn’t the original host just some brainless, rich second-generation brat? How is she mixed up in all this?】

For someone that foolish to be entangled in matters of this scale and still survive for so long, it showed just how much Old Master Su adored his one and only granddaughter.

Unfortunately, the original host was hopeless and had ended up in disaster anyway.

The system sighed as well:

【Well, she was a super rich second-generation. Getting pulled into everything is normal. And with the plot changes, side characters get forcibly nerfed, their personalities and behavior altered—it’s not strange that some things stop making sense.】

Su Mo: “?”

That’s it?

That explanation was a bit perfunctory, wasn’t it?

【Shouldn’t you give me something more concrete? Like—who’s the protagonist? How exactly did the plot collapse?】

The system replied righteously:

【Host, you can’t rely on unearned information. The plot must unlock as you progress. If you knew everything at once and changed the storyline too early, that would count as disrupting the plot, which is not allowed.】

Su Mo rolled her eyes. She got it now—this damned system didn’t know the plot either and was bluffing.

【I’m basically trapped by you.】

When Pu Ying arrived at the hotel through the light drizzle, it was already late in the evening. Expressionless, she stood outside Su Mo’s room. When Su Mo opened the door, Pu Ying seemed just about to knock.

Su Mo: “?”

She quickly pulled her inside. “Why are you here? It’s raining—why didn’t you use a shielding umbrella?”

Pu Ying’s expression remained cool, but the usually distant gaze behind her rain-speckled glasses softened slightly when it landed on Su Mo.

She allowed Su Mo to pull her in. Standing there, she said nothing.

Su Mo fetched a fresh towel and a change of clothes, handing them to her. “Go clean up first. We can talk later. No rush.”

Pu Ying lowered her eyes to the clothes and towel, paused for a moment, then wordlessly headed to the bathroom with practiced steps. By the time she emerged—hair still damp and loose—Su Mo had already prepared a cup of hot coffee.

Pu Ying disliked hot drinks and disliked beverages in general. She only drank coffee.

Seeing that Su Mo had remembered her preference, the corner of Pu Ying’s lips lifted ever so slightly. Barefoot, she casually took a seat on the sofa across from her. She picked up the coffee and took a small sip—just the temperature she normally drank. Judging from that, Su Mo must have brewed it right when she heard the shower almost stop.

While Pu Ying was showering, Su Mo had skimmed through the newly surfaced intel. She let out an awkward laugh and asked curiously, “Why’d you still come to find me at this hour? You could’ve just used the light-brain.”

Pu Ying said quietly, “You said before you don’t like discussing things over the light-brain.”

Su Mo: “……”

She scratched the back of her head, forcing a laugh. “I forgot— that was just something I said casually. You didn’t have to take it to heart.”

Pu Ying: “I’ll keep it in mind next time.”

Su Mo: “Okay.”

As the conversation faded out, a thin layer of awkwardness settled between them again. For some reason, Su Mo always felt tense and uneasy whenever she faced Pu Ying—and she had no idea why.

After a few sips of coffee, Pu Ying’s glasses fogged up from the steam. With a faint look of discomfort, she took them off to wipe them. Without the glasses, the usual distance in her expression softened noticeably, and with her freshly dried hair curling slightly at the ends, she even looked a little cute.