The Reborn Scummy A and the Sickly O Got Together - Chapter 40

Song An merely said, “Oh, really? Just good friends?”

Her tone dripped with thick skepticism, the questioning laced with implications that went far beyond mere friendship.

Feng Baiming and Luo Mingyue genuinely believed they were just friends, but unfortunately, aside from Song An, the doubtful glances from Zhang Zhuoran and Chuan Ping made it clear they weren’t convinced.

The three blood-related siblings, for once, shared the same thought: when an alpha and an omega claimed to be “just good friends,” it all came down to whether one of them was willing to pierce that thin barrier between them.

If neither dared to, it was either because one was too reserved, the other lacked confidence, or more likely both were feigning ignorance while keeping the other as a backup option.

Song An had already resigned herself to the fact that there was no hope with Luo Mingyue, especially since the person Luo liked was right there in front of them.

If she kept acting cute and clingy, it would only make her look pathetic. She wondered if Feng Baiming was already laughing at her in his head.

So Song An gave up, grabbing her brother Chuan Ping’s hand instead. With that, their group of five left Zhang Zhuoran as the odd one out.

Tall and brawny, Zhang Zhuoran didn’t seem to notice he was being subtly excluded. Oblivious, he naturally sidled up to Feng Baiming’s other side and effortlessly launched into conversation.

Even when others only responded politely, he could ramble on endlessly, mostly about himself.

Feng Baiming now regretted leaving the private room. Zhang Zhuoran first bragged about his skiing, surfing, and travels through various small towns abroad.

He even asked, “Miss Feng, have you been to any of these places?”

Feng Baiming replied bluntly, “I don’t like traveling.”

When he turned to Luo Mingyue, she answered politely, “Maybe I’ll travel around someday.”

Zhang Zhuoran smirked. “Seeing the world broadens your horizons. That’s the problem with Shangjing, people here think it’s the center of the universe. But you should really go abroad, experience different lifestyles and scenery.”

His words weren’t wrong, and his point was valid until he followed up with a sly question for Luo Mingyue:

“Miss Luo, someone as beautiful as you must have dated plenty of omegas or betas, right?”

Luo Mingyue sensed hostility in his tone. She didn’t deny it, the animosity was mutual. They simply didn’t like each other.

She answered bluntly, “I’ve never dated anyone.”

Zhang Zhuoran clearly didn’t believe her but laughed it off. “Seems Miss Luo has very high standards.”

Luo Mingyue countered, “Or maybe I’m just not as popular as you, Mr. Zhang, who’s so adored by white girls.”

She had meant it as a jab, but to her surprise, Zhang Zhuoran puffed up like a peacock preening at the compliment.

Not only did he miss the sarcasm, he eagerly launched into bragging about all the white and mixed-race women he’d dated.

He took pride in having dated foreign omegas or betas, yet looked down upon them with a condescending tone, claiming these white individuals were too Westernized in their social values too open-minded and easy to pursue, making them suitable only for casual relationships but absolutely unworthy of being brought home as wives.

Zhang Zhuoran remarked, “Our own Chinese omegas and betas are far more suitable for marriage.”

Feng Baiming coldly inquired, “Why do you think that way?”

Zhang Zhuoran smiled and said, “Our local omegas and betas are more family-oriented, understanding their roles in supporting husbands and raising children. They also uphold stronger chastity values. Putting it plainly, wouldn’t you want a wife who’s obedient and adorable?”

The predictably offensive response made both Feng Baiming and Luo Mingyue glance at him in disbelief.

It was baffling how someone in modern society could voice such archaic, feudal-alpha sentiments.

In the past, Luo Mingyue would have brushed off such a person with polite indifference. But with Miss Feng present, she couldn’t help raising her voice in admonishment: “Mr. Zhang, we’re in the 21st century. Equality and fairness are what we advocate now. Since you’ve studied abroad, you should understand the concept of human rights.”

Unfortunately, Zhang Zhuoran’s reaction was one of genuine bewilderment, his expression practically asking, Human rights? What nonsense is that?

Luo Mingyue sighed inwardly. The only thing that truly angered her was how someone like him could even be considered a match for Miss Feng. As for Zhang Zhuoran himself, he wasn’t worth the emotion. In truth, he epitomized the mindset of many privileged heirs.

It wasn’t just alpha males like Zhang Zhuoran or Lu Ping even omegas like Lu Xi and Lu Le proved that when class divisions came into play, gender conflicts paled in comparison. Lu Xi and Lu Le would never sympathize with ordinary omegas of their own gender. They took perverse pleasure in watching less fortunate omegas suffer, claiming they wouldn’t be exploited by the wealthy if they weren’t so greedy.

When your social standing far exceeds the societal average, how could you possibly comprehend the struggles of ordinary people? Those accustomed to being idolized by the masses reserve their empathy solely for themselves, with maintaining class privilege as their life’s foremost goal.

Luo Mingyue knew Zhang Zhuoran was a product of his environment raised immersed in these toxic ideals. Her only grievance was that someone like him had been allowed anywhere near Miss Feng.

Yet both she and Feng Baiming maintained basic courtesy, which Zhang Zhuoran mistook for genuine interest in his ramblings.

As Song An and Chuan Ping selected several accessories, Zhang Zhuoran continued spouting his ludicrous views. But the more he spoke his conversations limited to flaunting wealth, romantic conquests, and lavish travels, the more he exposed his own vapid superficiality.

Finally, Feng Baiming had endured enough. Deliberately turning to Luo Mingyue, she asked, “Miss Luo, you’ll be attending A University after summer, correct? What’s your major?”

Over Zhang Zhuoran’s droning monologue, Luo Mingyue replied, “I applied to several business programs and was admitted to the auditing track.”

She had majored in the same field in her previous life, though she personally had wanted to study literature. But her grandmother had insisted that liberal arts were useless, saying accounting would at least allow her to contribute to the family business.

Back then, she had obediently followed her grandmother’s every word. Now reborn after already being admitted, Luo Mingyue couldn’t help but think that studying auditing again with unchanged textbooks would be a waste of time.

“I want to change my major when the semester starts,” Luo Mingyue asked sincerely. “Are there any requirements for transferring majors?”

Feng Baiming glanced at her: “What major do you want? If it’s a popular program or one of University A’s flagship disciplines, it might not be possible.”

“Contemporary literature, classical literature, or maybe philosophy?” Luo Mingyue suggested.

Feng Baiming looked surprised: “Those should be fine to transfer into, though philosophy… that’s a real dead-end major.”

Their conversation completely ignored Zhang Zhuoran, who finally stopped spouting his arrogant opinions to interject: “Philosophy? What does that even teach? What can you do with philosophy?”

Precisely because philosophy seemed useless in modern society was why it was considered a dead-end major. Faced with this practical question, even Feng Baiming fell into thoughtful silence.

Luo Mingyue suddenly smiled, eyes curving, and reminded Feng Baiming: “It cultivates character, trains logical thinking. Philosophy may seem useless, yet it’s omnipresent.”

This made Feng Baiming pause momentarily. Thereafter, she kept unconsciously glancing at Luo Mingyue every few seconds.

In truth, it wasn’t just her, even Zhang Zhuoran was regarding Luo Mingyue thoughtfully. He likely realized he’d been thoroughly outmatched in just a few exchanges.

Within minutes, the group knew it was time to return to their private room on the 27th floor, as the gathering drew to a close.

If this welcome dinner for Zhang Zhuoran were to be evaluated, he himself probably found it quite unpleasant.

When parting, he still tried to salvage some goodwill. He’d arrived with Feng Baiming, not particularly fond of this “blind date” initially, but his mother had wanted him to keep options open.

Now leaving, Feng Baiming walked side by side with that pretty boy Luo Mingyue he disdained, with perfect justification, a senior explaining university majors to a junior, even recommending her literature professors.

Zhang Zhuoran struggled to interject, truly indifferent to academics. He couldn’t comprehend why wealthy people like them needed to work hard at all. They only needed to know how to direct studious people to make money for them.

At Dingmao’s entrance as they bid farewell, Luo Mingyue told Feng Baiming: “Safe travels.”

Feng Baiming would be going home with her mother tonight. Mrs. Feng still looked at Luo Mingyue affectionately, not having forgotten how she’d cared for her daughter all evening when she was ill.

Mrs. Feng held Luo Mingyue’s hand, growing more pleased the longer she looked at her, praising not just her beauty but her kind heart.

Luo Mingyue listened guiltily, while Feng Baiming waited somewhat bored beside her mother, rare to see her mother so taken with an outsider. Suspecting her mother might just be swayed by looks, Zhang Zhuoran sidled over with what he presumably thought was a charming smirk.

She hadn’t even properly looked at Zhang Zhuoran’s face before, and now found herself speechless at this greasy smile.

The contrast made Luo Mingyue’s radiant smile stand out even more, prompting a bitter thought: How could someone’s smile be so greasy and irritating?

“I’ll come find you when I have time,” Zhang Zhuoran declared in a tone that brooked no argument, merely informing her. “It’s been years since I last visited the capital. You can show me around.”

Feng Baiming replied coldly, “I’m busy with my graduation project. I don’t have time for leisure.”

Ignoring her refusal, Zhang Zhuoran continued, “I’ll visit you this weekend. Graduation project? I can help translate your English proposal.”

“Thanks, but it’s already done,” she said dismissively.

The man clearly didn’t even see her as a person. With a flash of teeth, he casually pocketed one hand, waved with the other, and turned to leave in his car.

Feng Baiming could only sigh. Her mother had forced her into this new dress today, insisting her usual style was too austere. The lace-trimmed dress in fresh tangerine with delicate floral prints was her mother’s choice.

The fitted waist and layered petal-like skirt, paired with her textured shoulder-length hair, gave her a sweet, youthful charm like peach blossoms in early spring, delicate and lovely.

She didn’t need anyone’s admiration, but Zhang Zhuoran’s self-centeredness was truly excessive.

Even his compliment was framed selfishly: “I really like your outfit today. It suits my taste perfectly.”

She wanted to retort: I couldn’t care less about your preferences.

Strangely enough, moments after parting, his face had already blurred in her memory.

“Miss Feng? Miss Feng?”

Someone called her in the night a clear, pleasant voice always tinged with that amusing caution.

Like a puppy’s damp eyes, she thought, turning to see Luo Mingyue gazing at her with those large eyes.

Pupils darker than the night itself, yet brimming with innocence and softness.

Perhaps contrast truly highlighted someone’s exceptional qualities.

Seeking visual relief, Feng Baiming stared absently at Luo Mingyue. “I zoned out. What did you say?”

Aunt Feng had already entered the car and called through the window, “Xiao Ming, let’s go home.”

Luo Mingyue hesitated slightly, having noticed the intentional styling of Feng Baiming’s outfit tonight.

But realizing this alternate version of Miss Feng might have been meant for Zhang Zhuoran’s eyes if she hadn’t attended…

Luo Mingyue asked softly, “Your style today is different from usual.”

Feng Baiming met her gaze. “My mother chose it.” After a pause: “Does it look odd?”

“So, it was Auntie’s pick. I thought you’d specifically…” The pretty young alpha mumbled.

“Specifically, what?” Feng Baiming pressed.

But Luo Mingyue just shook her head, called away by Third Miss Lu to bid farewell to elders, leaving only her slender retreating figure.

Returning to the car, Feng Baiming’s mood lightened slightly. The dress suddenly seemed genuinely pretty. Zhang Zhuoran’s preferences mattered to no one, what truly mattered was that someone saw Feng Baiming herself, not just a reflection of their own ego.

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