The Reborn Scummy A and the Sickly O Got Together - Chapter 47

This level of veiled sarcasm wouldn’t faze Lu Jia even Lu Ping and the others could easily brush it off with a smile.

But this time, Lu Jia’s only response was silence.

Luo Mingyue didn’t want Feng Baiming to have any interaction with Lu Jia ideally, not even a single exchange. In her eyes, Miss Feng was like the pure moon in the sky, while Lu Jia was nothing more than filthy sludge in a ditch. The mere thought of them interacting made Luo Mingyue feel as if Lu Jia’s existence was tarnishing Feng Baiming.

Yet she also noticed that after the incident with Qin Yan, Lu Jia had changed somewhat. In the past, Feng Baiming’s mildly pointed remarks wouldn’t have made her grip her chopsticks, raise her head, and stare back with a mix of humiliation and defiance.

Everyone at the table had no doubt that if Lu Jia spoke, her next words would be anything but pleasant.

The lighthearted banter about the nickname “Xiao Yue” was abruptly cut short, casting an awkward pall over the meal.

Lu Xi was the first to show displeasure, while Lu Ping prodded a shrimp dumpling with his chopsticks and adopted a big-brother tone. “Lu Jia, why that look? Did someone bully you?”

Lu Jia clenched her jaw, lowered her head, and silently picked at her food.

Lu Ping let it go, unwilling to press further and sour the mood even more.

But Lu Xi suddenly burst into laughter and turned to Feng Baiming with a grin. “Baiming-jie, I just remembered something funny.”

Feng Baiming wasn’t close to Lu Xi, though the latter always acted overly familiar with her. She wasn’t particularly interested in whatever “funny” story Lu Xi had, but she still asked politely, “What is it?”

Lu Xi smirked as she began. “It’s about one of my suitors. But the alpha in question isn’t the main character here, he’d only pursued me for a couple of days before another omega girl came to warn me. She told me he was a notorious playboy who’d chased her for over half a year, even sending her flowers just days before switching targets. Who knows how many others he had lined up in his pond?”

Lu Ping, ears perked for gossip, immediately objected. “Doesn’t that insult you too? How does that make you just another fish in his harem?”

Lu Xi shrugged. “I never liked that alpha anyway, but I didn’t appreciate the omega girl’s tone either. I thanked her politely, but the story didn’t end there.”

Everyone’s attention was now on Lu Xi even Lu Jia was glancing at her from the corner of her eye, curious about how this would play out.

Lu Xi’s smile faded as she continued. “Two days later, I found out that same alpha and that ‘kind-hearted’ omega sister were now a couple. Lu Le was indignant on my behalf, and some well-meaning friends even went to warn the girl about her boyfriend’s philandering ways. But the alpha claimed it was the omega who’d approached him first.”

Lu Xi concluded dryly, “In the end, I was just a disposable pawn in their little game.”

The others at the table were no strangers to high-society scandals, so this story’s outcome wasn’t particularly shocking, if anything, it was predictable.

Lu Ping, who seemed to have moved on from his own heartbreak, sighed dramatically and chimed in. “What’s there to complain about? At least you didn’t waste time reading a bunch of pretentious, useless books like I did only to still lose the person in the end. You didn’t actually invest in a relationship just to get nothing out of it.”

From Luo Mingyue’s understanding of Lu Xi, she didn’t believe this story was merely shared as casual conversation material.

Lu Le clearly knew her sister well too, immediately pressing further: “That omega is really strange. First she refused that alpha’s pursuit and kindly exposed his true colors, then turned around and became his lover herself.”

“Why didn’t she just accept the alpha earlier?” Lu Le said disdainfully. “What a pointless drama, and such a tacky way of going about it too.”

Luo Mingyue noticed the pleased, fox-like smile spreading across Lu Xi’s face, the expression of someone who had been waiting for exactly this question.

She realized Lu Xi’s true motive was about to surface and instinctively glanced at Lu Jia.

Sure enough, Lu Jia froze. Having grown up together, she knew her family members’ personalities all too well. Her eyes instinctively sought Luo Mingyue’s help, just as Luo Mingyue’s gaze met hers.

Luo Mingyue’s eyes held amusement. Lu Jia was stunned.

Lu Xi had already begun speaking: “Some people just have crooked intentions. They always want what belongs to others. This omega sister didn’t go so far as to steal someone else’s partner, but the moment she realized the alpha she once looked down on might change his heart, she couldn’t stand it. Do you think she actually liked that alpha? I doubt it otherwise, why refuse him earlier?”

Lu Le sneered. “Why else? Pure selfishness and jealousy, that’s all.”

And so, Luo Mingyue understood: in Lu Xi’s story, the alpha represented her, Lu Xi stood for Miss Feng, and Lu Jia was the scheming, manipulative omega.

Children from wealthy families were like this some spoke bluntly, but most were experts at insinuation, wrapping ten layers of meaning into a single sentence. Lu Xi’s story was a labyrinth of implications and veiled accusations, and Lu Jia was far too familiar with the subtext. In the past, someone would always step in to shield her.

The hurt and grievance on Lu Jia’s face were more genuine than ever before, but Luo Mingyue only remarked lightly, “Perhaps that omega sister had her own reasons.”

Before Lu Jia could feel relieved, Luo Mingyue added, “Luckily Third Sister got out in time. Getting tangled up in such matters is just tiresome.”

For a moment, Lu Jia’s frozen expression was painfully obvious.

The others at the table kept glancing at her throughout the meal. There were no overt clashes, compared to their usual heated arguments, Lu Xi’s indirect jabs were far subtler than outright accusations.

In the past, Lu Jia wouldn’t have let such minor provocations rattle her. But this time, she ate like a ghost had possessed her, her silence making her unbearably unpleasant company.

When she set down her chopsticks, she left in a daze without even a word of farewell, rushing away abruptly.

Lu Ping commented offhandedly, “What’s wrong with Lu Jia today? So rude.”

But it was just a passing remark, devoid of real concern. He quickly turned to Luo Mingyue, asking about her volunteer work at the orphanage, prying into this and that, before finally offering, “I have a lot of books, do they need any?”

Luo Mingyue thought of Feng Baiming’s picture books and wanted to tell her how much the children loved them. Lu Ping was being insufferably annoying, rambling incessantly about the books he’d bought based on bestseller lists everything from Keigo Higashino to Da Bing, spanning ancient and modern times, domestic and foreign, claiming they were incredibly enlightening.

Luo Mingyue had no choice but to say they weren’t really suitable for children.

Lu Ping asked if it was because the little brats were illiterate and couldn’t read.

Luo Mingyue really wanted to say that the children definitely weren’t illiterate, but maybe he should drain some of the water from his own head.

She was almost afraid that if Lu Ping shook his head, the sound of the ocean crying would come pouring out.

Most of Lu Ping’s books had been donated to the library, with only a few stragglers left. Each one was printed on high-quality paper, and their thickness was truly impressive.

He still stuffed a few books into a luxury-branded paper bag and forced them into Luo Mingyue’s hands, sighing about how some authors were practically polluting the environment by publishing them.

Luo Mingyue didn’t understand at first, but Lu Ping explained, “Wasting paper means wasting trees, which means polluting the environment, right?”

After she left, carrying the paper bag with its oversized luxury logo, she returned to her room still preoccupied with the thought: I didn’t get to tell Miss Feng that the children really love her books.

There were also things she wanted to share with Miss Feng about her experiences at the orphanage. In the past, she would have told the Lu family’s children these things, and she could already imagine their reactions.

At the orphanage, children with all their limbs intact and no serious illnesses regardless of gender were quickly adopted, often requiring the adoptive parents to have connections just to get a chance. The remaining children either had severe illnesses or physical disabilities, even something as minor as a missing toe or a cleft lip made them much harder to place.

Luo Mingyue could already picture it: Lu Ping or the Lu sisters would adopt a condescending tone, saying how pitiful it all was, while secretly feeling grateful they weren’t missing any limbs or suffering from major illnesses.

Lu Jia would pretend to empathize, putting on a sorrowful expression that made her seem compassionate and kind.

But it was all fake. No one truly felt the pain of another’s misfortune. At best, not saying something callous might already qualify someone as a decent person by worldly standards.

But what about Miss Feng?

Luo Mingyue set the bag down by her desk and walked to the small balcony of her room. Night had long since fallen. The backyard had over thirty square meters of lawn, and beyond it stood rows of century-old sycamore trees that would bear seed pods by early summer.

When the pods ripened, they would burst open, releasing yellowish fluff that carried seeds on the wind. The sycamores were tall and beautiful, but at this time of year, they were also a nuisance. Cutting them down to replace them with other trees would be a shame, so every year, they had to spend extra money hiring workers to pick the pods before they could burst.

The backyard’s nightlights flickered on in the darkness. At the border between the lawn and the sycamores, beneath the glow of a lamp, stood a figure. Luo Mingyue leaned against the railing, already smiling before she could call out Miss Feng’s name grinning to herself, unobserved but brimming with joy.

If anyone had seen her, they would have teased her mercilessly no one smiled at a friend like that, so unrestrained.

She didn’t even realize how happy she looked first, her eyes lit up, then the corners of her mouth curled, a delight that sprang from the depths of her soul, breaking through from the very core of her heart.

She swallowed the words Miss Feng before they could leave her lips and simply stayed there, leaning quietly, watching in silence.

Look at that person carrying a glass bottle of juice in one hand and holding a phone in the other. After watching for a while, Luo Mingyue realized Miss Feng must be wearing wireless earbuds and was on a call.

Perhaps feeling stifled indoors, she thought, that’s why she came out for a walk at night when the sun was gone.

Staring at the slender figure pacing back and forth at the edge of the tree shadows, Luo Mingyue had already reached 1.7 meters in middle school, while Feng Baiming was probably just over 1.6 meters now, a height Luo had achieved by elementary school graduation.

So to her, Miss Feng was smaller in every way two sizes smaller. Even her silhouette in the night appeared petite and delicate. It seemed as if with just a reach, Luo could effortlessly encircle her in her arms, even easily lift her in a princess carry.

She couldn’t make out what Feng was saying, nor did Luo Mingyue particularly care. She had no intention of eavesdropping on Miss Feng’s conversation with someone else, though curiosity lingered. If possible, she’d love to listen to her speak endlessly.

She could be mute, then in the early morning or late at night, or perhaps on a drizzly afternoon. Without saying a word, she’d simply be the most devoted listener.

As long as the speaker was Feng Baiming, that was enough.

She thought, no matter what Miss Feng said, she’d never grow tired of it.

And then Luo Mingyue understood whether sharing her orphanage experiences with Miss Feng would yield any particular response didn’t matter. Because deep down, she knew she just wanted an excuse to spend time with her.

Feng Baiming was currently on the phone with her younger sister, Feng Shaoyang. Though the sisters were close, Feng Baiming often found her sister’s boundless energy exhausting, not to mention her impulsive whims.

Like right now, Feng Shaoyang was on the Gobi Desert in the northwest, declaring she’d photograph the sunrise and sunset there.

Feng Baiming, far less of a romantic, pragmatically reminded her to moisturize and wear sunscreen.

Feng Shaoyang would retort that her sister lacked human warmth, saying while she was beautiful, it was the cold beauty of a temple statue always observing others’ joys and sorrows from the sidelines, herself feeling nothing but chill detachment.

“Your own emotions are so faint,” Feng Shaoyang said. “No great sorrows or joys, not even anger, just the faintest sneer.”

This reminded Feng Baiming of what the monk Kongming once told her: “Since you’ve come to walk this mortal world, don’t always remain an outsider.”

Feng Baiming thought it wasn’t her fault. Anyone who’d been homeschooled since elementary school, frequently hospitalized for IVs or sent to convalescent homes for “vacations,” would turn out this way.

On rare school visits, when everyone looked at her like a stranger, could she really be blamed for having no friends? For always being a lone wolf?

She wasn’t deliberately different, she’d just missed every opportunity to socialize at school, to develop the personality that blends into groups.

Yet no one seemed to notice this. They assumed her aloof restraint was innate, when really, facing classmates’ unfamiliar stares had taught her to armor herself in coldness, the best defense for her dignity.

Better to let them think she chose solitude than admit she’d been absent too long to ever join their established circles.

She couldn’t share these thoughts with anyone, this was her unnecessary stubbornness in maintaining self-respect. Occasionally, she wanted to explain that she wasn’t naturally cold, but when the moment came, even to her parents and closest younger sister, she couldn’t bring herself to speak the truth.

She didn’t want others to pity her, and at times, even her parents and sister fell into the category of “others.”

Recently, her monthly calls with her younger sister, Feng Shaoyang, had increased by two or three compared to before. Normally, they’d only have a perfunctory weekly video call. Most of the time, they exchanged a few sporadic messages on social apps, and more often than not, their interactions were limited to liking each other’s posts.

Only when both were at home, face-to-face in reality, did their conversations grow more frequent. Once separated for too long, even familial bonds would gradually weaken.

So Feng Baiming sometimes understood why even the closest relationships could fade after long-distance separation. Human emotions were just that fragile.

Lately, however, both sisters had been unusually eager to share. Feng Shaoyang had taken many photos of the Gobi Desert vast, desolate landscapes that truly captured the poetic essence of “lone smoke rising over the boundless desert.”

It was as if she treated Feng Baiming’s chat window as a photo backup, sending over numerous original shots.

Feng Baiming, in turn, occasionally called her sister, mostly sharing observations about the Lu family. Unlike their own simple household, after joining the Lu family, Feng Baiming had become acutely aware of the intricate dynamics among her peers.

She told her sister, “Where there are people, there’s drama. The Lu children are all more mature than their peers, seems having many siblings really tempers one’s character.”

Feng Shaoyang suspected her sister might be subtly mocking the Lu children and suggested, “If you’re feeling stifled there, just come back home.”

But she was also surprised to notice that since that summer fever and subsequent eczema, Feng Baiming hadn’t fallen ill again.

Given her usual pattern of monthly colds or coughs, she had miraculously stayed healthy through July.

More often, though, Feng Shaoyang heard her sister mention Luo Mingyue previously described as a strange, contradictory alpha, now likened to a child or a golden retriever puppy, gentle and kind, yet appearing somewhat weak.

But observing her interactions with others, Luo Mingyue’s perceived weakness seemed to surface only around Feng Baiming.

Feng Baiming complained, “She’s overly cautious with me, as if I’m some fragile porcelain that’ll shatter at the slightest touch.”

If not for trusting her sister’s integrity, Feng Shaoyang might have thought this was Feng Baiming’s way of flaunting affection.

The Lu family members were practically afterthoughts, no matter the topic, conversations always circled back to Luo Mingyue.

Though unfamiliar with Luo Mingyue herself, Feng Shaoyang had pieced together an image from her sister’s descriptions: a soft-hearted, gentle alpha with a smile warm as the summer sun.

Tonight was no exception. Feng Baiming recounted a dinner conversation: “I hope Luo Mingyue stays away from Lu Jia. It’d be best if they cut ties completely.”

Feng Shaoyang retorted, “When an alpha only has eyes for one omega, how long are you two planning to keep up this innocent act? Are you really going to stay platonic forever?”

Feng Baiming replied, “Stop joking about me and Luo Mingyue.”

Exasperated, Feng Shaoyang shot back, “Then stop saying things that reek of lovesick mush!”

“Did I?” Feng Baiming looked surprised. “I was just objectively and impartially stating my observations about her.”

Feng Shaoyang thought those descriptions had nothing to do with objectivity or fairness. She felt Feng Baiming was beyond saving.

She could only hope Luo Mingyue would take the initiative to break the ice soon. Otherwise, who knew how long it would take for Feng Baiming to recognize her own feelings.

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