The Reborn Scummy A and the Sickly O Got Together - Chapter 42

Miss Feng’s question wasn’t difficult for Luo Mingyue to answer. She knew the answer all too well.

In her past life, she had consciously distinguished between genders, always mindful of the differences between alphas and omegas, believing that cuteness and softness were inherent traits of omegas.

But having died once and looking back at the world now, all those gender norms ingrained in her since childhood and adolescence felt utterly meaningless.

So in this life, she saw everyone simply as individuals. She didn’t hold alphas in higher regard just because of their secondary gender, nor did she assume they were inherently responsible, intelligent, or brave.

After all, the world was full of foolish alphas. Even Qin Yan, objectively speaking, was an idiot, wasn’t he?

Having already lived one foolish lifetime, she had no intention of repeating the same mistakes.

As for Miss Feng’s question, it wasn’t that she saw Miss Feng as a fragile omega. It was because she cherished her too much. When you treasure someone deeply, your heart becomes cautious.

Deep down, she knew Miss Feng was strong, independent, even a little self-centered. Far from being soft or cute like a typical omega, she was more resolute and decisive than most alphas.

But when you place someone at the center of your world, even if you know they aren’t delicate porcelain, you still feel the need to handle them with extra care, to treasure them even more.

Why, despite having no gender stereotypes, do I still treat you so carefully at times?

Because in my heart, you weigh as much as a thousand jun, yet are as fragile as glass. I am the one who admires you, and I am also the one who cherishes you.

When you treasure someone too much, even the slightest touch becomes an act of caution.

“Miss Feng isn’t just different from other omegas, Miss Feng is different from most people. It has nothing to do with gender,” Luo Mingyue answered.

She sat upright, like a student dutifully answering a teacher’s question.

In all her years, the phrase Feng Baiming had heard most often was, “You’re not like other omegas.” The same words could be meant as praise by some, while others used them to criticize her for not fitting the omega mold.

This was the first time someone had phrased it this way, and the perfection of the statement piqued her curiosity.

Her delicate, makeup-free face lifted slightly, her elegant brows arching with interest. “What do you mean by that?”

“Most of us can’t escape the influence of societal norms. People say, ‘Be yourself,’ but from the moment we’re born, everything we learn from speaking to writing comes from the outside world. How can you be sure your thoughts, your ideas, aren’t shaped by external voices?”

Luo Mingyue swallowed. She had stayed up late reading a book last night, not because it was some dramatic, sensational romance, but because it had sparked many reflections in her.

But who could she share these thoughts with? Lu Ping, Lu Xi, and her grandmother were all alike in this regard they considered such musings useless, impractical distractions.

If Luo Mingyue spent too much time dwelling on “useless” things, then in their eyes, she too would be deemed useless.

It felt absurd to admit, but in her past life, the only person she could share these “useless thoughts” with was Lu Jia.

Though Lu Jia’s responses always seemed like pre-programmed lines, repeating: “Sister Mingyue, I’ll stay with you. I won’t abandon you. In this world, it’s just the two of us relying on each other.”

Looking back now, even Lu Jia must have grown impatient. Luo Mingyue was such a strange person, why read so many books? And why, after reading them, come up with so many bizarre ideas?

But now, there was someone who would listen to her seriously, someone who didn’t think the world was too vast or Luo Mingyue too peculiar.

Bathed in golden sunlight, her figure outlined in brilliance, for a fleeting moment, Luo Mingyue thought this petite omega resembled a sun goddess from myth.

Before, she had seen Miss Feng as the pristine moon in the sky, an ethereal fairy untouched by mortal dust.

Now, she realized that beneath that delicate exterior lay an undeniable, formidable energy.

Amid the blazing sunlight, Feng Baiming replied earnestly, “So, when you say I’m different from others, do you mean I never conform to mainstream opinions?”

“Or maybe I’m just arrogant and self-assured?” She smiled then, a smirk that was indeed a little haughty and brimming with pride.

She wasn’t dressed in any formal gown or attire, just a simple cotton homewear, yet when she chose to perform, she could carry herself like a tiny queen.

This nearly made Luo Mingyue blurt out the thought that flashed through her mind: Even this arrogant, self-assured Miss Feng was breathtakingly beautiful.

Feng Baiming withdrew her smile, her expression turning serious though still playful as she said to Luo Mingyue, “Just teasing you.”

Casually, she added, “You’re only eighteen. Why overthink so much? You should spend time playing with friends, traveling, read ten thousand books, walk ten thousand miles. Always holed up at home, buried in books. Are you trying to turn yourself into a stuffy old scholar?”

This conjured an image in Feng Baiming’s mind, a chibi, three-heads-tall version of Luo Mingyue, with oversized eyes behind black-framed glasses, frowning as she clutched a book, both adorable and exuding the rigid air of a stern professor.

She couldn’t help but imagine that in two years maybe even sooner, this young alpha would shed all traces of youthful naivety. The plump, collagen-rich baby fat would fade, her bone structure sharpening into striking definition.

She would become even more strikingly beautiful. Yet Feng Baiming longed to glimpse the years before that mature beauty, to see what she had been like as a child.

Luo Mingyue clutched her book, flustered, as Miss Feng watched her with amused eyes. No matter how she positioned her limbs, it felt wrong as if her own arms and legs were external attachments, impossible to arrange naturally or gracefully.

Luo Mingyue thought, Miss Feng had pointed out how she sometimes treated her with too much caution and nervousness. But did Miss Feng realize that, in her presence, Luo Mingyue often didn’t even know how to hold her own hands or place her feet?

Just imagining her own awkward posture made Luo Mingyue want to cover her face and groan. She must look like a complete fool in front of Miss Feng.

Calm down, calm down.

Luo Mingyue gave herself a pep talk, Miss Feng wasn’t some terrifying beast, after all. So she picked up the book again and deliberately steadied her voice:

“Are you interested in this book? The author uniquely examines the dynamics between Alphas and Omegas from a third-gender perspective. I’ve found that stepping outside the constraints of gender and observing things as an outsider often leads to sharper, more truthful insights.”

Feng Baiming nodded in agreement, only to look up and meet the girl’s overly earnest expression. The mental image of a chibi-fied Luo Mingyue with black-rimmed glasses bizarrely overlapped with the real-life, long-legged adult version standing before her.

This made her burst into laughter despite Luo Mingyue’s deliberately composed seriousness, and the latter immediately realized she was the cause of that amusement, her solemn facade crumbling instantly.

The girl, whose hair had somehow sprung up again, absentmindedly smoothed her shoulder-length black locks and thought blankly: Why is Miss Feng in such a good mood today? She seems to be laughing so happily just from looking at me.

What about me could possibly make Miss Feng this happy?

Hugging the book, her confusion only deepened. Well, whatever. If it makes Miss Feng happy then that alone makes me happy too.

Feng Baiming’s days at the Lu household passed uneventfully. In previous summers, she would retreat to the mountains to spend the season with the monk Kongming.

Kongming kept to the rhythm of morning bells and evening drums, and the temple’s “business” was decent enough, finances stayed balanced, and wealthy donors even made substantial annual contributions, allowing him to equip the young monks with tablets.

After all, it was a historic temple with some renown, though its remote location meant crowds only gathered during peak tourist seasons. Most of the time, the mountain’s timeless tranquility made it easy to lose track of the days.

Summer days in the temple were so still that time itself seemed to pause. Feng Baiming also relished the cool mountain air, perfect for escaping the heat.

This year, however, Kongming had sent her to the Lu family. She had asked, “Do I really have to go?”

The monk twirled his prayer beads, scrolling through Weibo on his tablet, yet still managed to smile like an enlightened master as he dodged the question: “If fate wills it, then it is so. Follow your heart, no need to force anything.”

Feng Baiming had once tried delving into Buddhist teachings, even registering as a lay disciple.

But after years of listening to Kongming’s cryptic words, she eventually distilled their essence and explained to her parents: “If you want to believe in Buddhism, just remember, everything follows its own course. That’s all there is to it.”

Her bewildered parents asked, “What does that mean?”

Feng Baiming replied, “When you’ve mastered the art of saying something that means nothing, you’ve grasped eighty percent of it.”

Of course, this was just a private joke. The moment she stepped into the temple’s main hall, the towering, solemn statue of the Buddha would always catch her eye those compassionate eyes gazing down upon all living beings.

In that moment, whether one believed or not, the sheer presence of such mercy demanded reverence. Even the most carefree would bow their heads and whisper a prayer for themselves, for their loved ones, for peace in this lifetime, for a life free of sorrow.

The first time she saw that statue, she had silently wept.

Her family assumed it was a sign of her deep spiritual connection. Only Kongming asked her, “Who were you crying for?”

She couldn’t explain why she was crying not for Buddha, nor for herself. She only felt the ancient temple’s corridor wind carried an eternal quietness. When she raised her eyes to meet the Buddha’s downward gaze, a faint figure brushed past her in the wind, growing ever more distant until it vanished beyond reach.

Kongming said, “This is your fate gained and lost. Cherish it well.”

Feng Baiming was only fourteen that year. When she asked Kongming what he meant, he replied, “All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions. Don’t ask further. Even if you do, I wouldn’t know.”

Later, she thought it might just have been the whims of a teenage girl, occasional, inexplicable tears. Wasn’t that perfectly normal and common?

That summer, she didn’t return to the temple. Instead, she stayed at the Lu family’s house, lounging under the air conditioning. Bored out of her mind, she couldn’t possibly spend every day buried in her graduation thesis or design work.

At first, Lu Ping’s blatantly obvious intentions as an alpha only made her colder. Feng Baiming called Kongming and said, “I should’ve just spent the summer at the temple. Staying with the Lu family might improve my health, but it’s wrecking my peace of mind. Besides, aren’t you a monk? Why are you acting like a fortune teller? ‘The Lu family’s feng shui is good’, now that I think about it, since when do monks dabble in feng shui?”

Kongming yawned on the other end of the line, having been abruptly woken from his nap. With unshakable patience, he replied, “All things follow their destined course. Do as you please, benefactor.”

The same old dismissive answer, word for word. Feng Baiming made up her mind then, she would pack her bags and leave this household behind.

But Luo Mingyue sparked a fleeting curiosity in her: What else could this little alpha possibly do?

That initial flicker of curiosity, unnoticed, drew her in revealing Luo Mingyue’s contradictions, her gentle innocence, her hidden agendas, her reckless vengeance, and even her regretful confusion. Feng Baiming saw it all.

Strangely enough, Feng Baiming realized that over the course of just over a month, Luo Mingyue had become the person she was closest to outside her own family.

Looking back, she couldn’t pinpoint when Luo Mingyue had become a constant presence around her. Nor could she recall when, if she ever wanted to talk to someone in the Lu household, Luo Mingyue was the first person who came to mind.

Feng Baiming reassured herself, after all, it wasn’t like she could choose to spend time with Lu Ping, Lu Xi, or even Lu Jia, right?

She conveniently forgot that the old Feng Baiming would have simply ignored everyone. She had always had the option of not engaging with anyone at all.

Yet, bit by bit, a living, breathing person had woven herself into Feng Baiming’s daily life. The change should have been glaringly obvious, yet Feng Baiming couldn’t remember exactly when Luo Mingyue had slipped in so seamlessly.

Once she grew accustomed to it, it no longer felt like a change at all. Before she knew it, it was already late July, the tail end of summer in the capital. Even Lu Jia began reappearing in public again.

Confined to her room for a month, once her punishment ended, she either stayed out of shame or simply kept a low profile, rarely seen around the house.

Only by month’s end did Lu Jia start mingling again, joining the other children for meals in the dining hall. Under the sneers of Lu Xi and Lu Le, she kept her head down, treading carefully.

At times like these, Feng Baiming couldn’t help but glance at Luo Mingyue. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering, did Luo Mingyue feel any satisfaction seeing Lu Jia like this?

But she didn’t want Luo Mingyue to feel happy about such matters. In her heart, Luo Mingyue would always remain that kind-hearted child who prayed for the Buddha’s health in the mountains.

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