The Heartless Alpha Just Wants to Follow the Plot - Chapter 44

Still, watching that scene left Qiu Fu feeling stifled.

Raya noticed her state, thought for a moment, then swiftly stepped in front of her, shielding her completely from view, guarding her so tightly that no one could see.

Qiu Fu blinked at the sudden shadow cast over her. “?”

Raya lowered her gaze, speaking seriously:

“If you don’t want others to see, then hide the emotions you’re leaking. You are strong. You can stand alone. You don’t need anyone else.”

Qiu Fu stared at her. Was her emotion really that obvious? Obvious enough for others to notice?

Raya pulled an eye mask from her spatial ring and handed it to her, murmuring:

“Everyone has things they don’t want to talk about.”

Qiu Fu accepted it, silent for a moment, before whispering hoarsely:

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. This is my duty.”

Raya shook her head, resuming her stance, blocking the outside gaze so Qiu Fu could manage her emotions without being exposed.

Her words stirred an unexpected memory in Qiu Fu, Su Mo. That woman was always the same: doing so much for her, yet brushing it off lightly, saying it was all because of the contract.

The contract stated Su Mo was responsible for her resources during the term, so she had truly gone out of her way to secure PV haute couture for her.

Sometimes Qiu Fu couldn’t understand Su Mo’s intentions, just as she couldn’t fathom why Raya was so sensitive and perceptive to her emotions. She had thought she hid them well.

Before leaving, Su Mo glanced back toward Qiu Fu’s direction, but all she saw was Raya blocking her. She pressed her lips together. On her light-brain, Qiu Fu hadn’t replied further. Su Mo noticed Raya bending to hand something to Qiu Fu, who accepted it. Her steps faltered briefly, then she turned and left the studio.

Back aboard the aircraft, Pu Ying studied Su Mo’s cool expression. From her slightly lowered eyes, she could tell Su Mo seemed displeased.

She didn’t quite understand. Su Mo had won the role on her own merit, refreshing her image in the eyes of directors. With such success, why was she still unhappy?

After thinking it over, only one possibility came to mind.

“What’s wrong? Still worrying about Tan Ya’s situation?”

She activated autopilot, then turned back with a faintly puzzled look.

“It wasn’t convenient to talk in the studio, but now we’re alone. Has Tan Ya’s uncle’s matter become so complicated it’s troubling you?”

Su Mo was still replaying the earlier scene in her mind and didn’t catch Pu Ying’s words. After a moment, she blinked back to awareness.

“Hm? What did you say?”

Pu Ying studied her distraction, then said slowly:

“You weren’t thinking about Tan Ya, you were thinking about Qiu Fu, weren’t you?”

Su Mo turned her eyes aside, covering her mouth with a light cough.

“Is it that obvious?”

Pu Ying: “Quite obvious.”

She feigned casualness as she asked:

“Is it because Qiu Fu now has an excellent bodyguard at her side, and you feel threatened?”

Su Mo stiffened. Was that it? Did she feel insecure because someone better was standing beside Qiu Fu?

Seeing her genuinely consider the possibility, Pu Ying suppressed the ache rising in her chest.

“If you truly like her, then you need to say it. You can’t keep everything bottled up. Otherwise, no one will know if you’re serious about her.”

“An omega needs a sense of security. If you don’t give her that, she’ll eventually be taken away by someone else.”

Su Mo lowered her gaze, lost in thought. Is that really true? Would she leave me and go to someone else?

But.

Su Mo touched her chest lightly. Had she really fallen for Qiu Fu? Did she truly want to be with her?

She wasn’t sure. She liked Qiu Fu, yes but it felt like the same kind of affection she had for those around her.

Yet when she saw Qiu Fu with someone else, she felt uncomfortable. When they stood too close, too intimate, she wanted to flee in shy panic.

“Pu Ying.”

“Mm?”

“Have you ever liked someone?”

Pu Ying paused, then turned her back to Su Mo, answering firmly:

“Yes.”

Su Mo asked curiously:

“What is it like to like someone?”

Pu Ying hesitated, then spoke softly:

“Liking someone means wanting to make her happy. Whatever she loves, you’ll find a way to give it to her.”

“You’ll feel jealous when she’s close to others. You’ll want to possess her. You’ll compromise again and again for her sake. As long as she’s happy, you’ll do anything, sacrifice anything.”

Su Mo: “Hmm.”

She thought carefully. She hadn’t reached that point with Qiu Fu. She didn’t feel she could give up everything for her.

So, did that mean she didn’t truly like Qiu Fu?

But if it wasn’t that kind of love, then why did seeing Qiu Fu and Raya together—so close, so intimate make her heart ache with discomfort?

Su Mo asked quietly:

“If it’s just feeling uncomfortable when she’s with someone else, but not to the point of being willing to sacrifice everything for her, is that still considered liking someone?”

She wasn’t sure anymore. At this point, she needed guidance.

“It is liking,” Pu Ying affirmed. “Just not that deeply.”

“Some people can give everything for love, while others are more rational. They can like someone, but won’t abandon everything for them.”

“This kind of liking is still real, it isn’t that you don’t love. It’s simply that, compared to idealized passion, such people value reality more.”

“Perhaps you’re one of those people.”

Feigning an itch in her eye, Pu Ying discreetly wiped away the tear that had slipped out. Her voice remained steady, her movements quick, so Su Mo never noticed she had cried.

Su Mo was lost in thought, carefully turning over Pu Ying’s words.

Pu Ying was probably right. She was the kind of person whose emotions wouldn’t derail her.

So yes, she did like Qiu Fu.

She lifted her head and gave Pu Ying a genuine smile. “Thank you. I understand now.”

Through the rearview mirror, Pu Ying met her gaze briefly before quickly looking away, her voice hoarse: “It’s nothing.”

Because her eyes were already bloodshot from lack of rest, Su Mo didn’t connect it to tears. Instead, she reminded her:

“You should rest more. If I’ve given you too much work, hire a few trustworthy people and delegate.”

Having finally sorted out her feelings, Su Mo felt a sudden lightness. Her voice carried a hint of cheer:

“Don’t push yourself too hard. Your health is most important. If your body breaks down, no amount of money can buy it back.”

Even in the interstellar age, mechanical bodies existed, but they were never a long-term solution. They eroded human emotions, conditioning the brain to mechanical calculation until one became a soulless machine.

Su Mo didn’t want Pu Ying to end up like that.

“Grandfather just messaged me,” she added. “He’s already sent people over. His methods are faster and more convenient than ours.”

Though Su Mo was also of the Su family, she lived in the spotlight—every word and action scrutinized. Her grandfather, however, operated in the shadows, wielding influence across both sides of the law, with far more resources at his disposal.

And now, Tan Xing had already set his sights on Tan Ya. He was scheming to wrest her away from Su Mo, forcing Tan Ya to claim she had been kidnapped by her, all to swallow Tan Corporation whole.

Few would believe such a story, but if Su Mo’s name was dragged into it, authorities would take notice. Then, by tying Tan Ya’s parents’ “accident” to Su Mo, even if they couldn’t topple the Su Group, they could at least mire her in trouble and tarnish her reputation.

After all, the case was deadlocked—no evidence, no culprits. No one could overturn it.

Tan Xing worked desperately to shift blame, but with the old master’s intervention, he was caught off guard. The blame he tried to throw onto Su Mo rebounded onto himself, drawing official scrutiny.

The suspicion he had prepared for Su Mo landed squarely on him instead. During the investigation, Tan Xing panicked and exposed his own flaws. The old master seized the chance, striking decisively—buying up Tan Corporation’s scattered shares and acquiring those held by shareholders displeased with Tan Xing’s aggressive tactics. In one move, he cut Tan Xing off at the root.

Tan Xing gnashed his teeth at the old master’s straightforward strike, but he couldn’t counter it. He was already under investigation, closely watched. The old master’s actions were perfectly justified. Still, Tan Xing couldn’t stomach it.

“Damn that old man!”

At home, he flew into a rage, kicking over the tea table, his eyes bloodshot as he glared at the shares the old master had taken.

Before founding the company, Tan Ya’s parents had raised capital properly. They held 40% of the shares, Tan Xing 10%, and the remaining 50% was scattered among minor shareholders.

Now, the old master had gathered all those scattered shares, leaving only Tan Xing’s 10% untouched. Whatever promises he had made, the others had sold out.

Now Tan Corporation had only two shareholders: President Tan Xing, and the Su family patriarch.

Their holdings were equal. If the company reshuffled, the old master could challenge Tan Xing for the presidency. And with his reputation, Tan Xing had no chance of competing.

But the old master had no desire to run Tan Corporation. He simply watched Tan Xing stew in misery. The more Tan Xing suffered, the more satisfied he felt.

After all, this man had dared to try and frame his only granddaughter. Did he really think she was someone he could touch?

The old master sipped his tea, his voice calm yet sharp:

“Ying Zhong, it’s time for the next step.”

“Let him reap the consequences of his own deeds.”