The Reborn Scummy A and the Sickly O Got Together - Chapter 53

Luo Mingyue uttered these words lightly, as if they were nothing more than a passing remark, her gentle smile unwavering as she fixed her gaze on the delicate figure of Lu Jia. It was almost enough to create an illusion.

That she was looking at someone she loved with deep, unwavering affection.

In reality, she was merely watching the girl with amusement. Indeed, Lu Jia was still far from the polished, unshakable woman she would become in her later years, the one who never let a single word crack her composure.

At eighteen, Lu Jia’s face betrayed shock the moment she heard the words “study abroad.” She quickly realized her lapse, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t summon her usual facade of fragile innocence.

Her expression twisted into something ugly, caught between her habitual act of pitiable vulnerability and the sharp resentment that now seeped through. Her words came out laced with bitterness:

“Study abroad? What a wonderful idea. My grades have never matched Mingyue-jie’s anyway. Nowadays, all the wealthy families in the capital send their children abroad to gild their reputations, it sounds far more glamorous than staying here for university.”

Luo Mingyue simply nodded along, her tone as pleasant as ever. “I’m so relieved you think that way, Jiajia. When Grandmother first mentioned sending you abroad with no intention of letting you return, I was heartbroken. It seems she truly has no regard for old affections.”

Her words were ninety percent truth, one percent lie. The plan to exile Lu Jia overseas had only been discussed between Grandmother and Third Aunt Lu. In her past life, Third Aunt had vented about it to Luo Mingyue, and the matter had nearly come to pass, until Lu Jia begged Luo Mingyue to intervene, and Grandmother’s resolve wavered.

But this time, after Lu Jia’s humiliating scandal that summer, Grandmother had broached the idea earlier. Third Aunt had mentioned it in passing, and though Luo Mingyue hadn’t paid it much mind then, she now saw the perfect opportunity to wield it.

Lu Jia’s face paled as if struck. She stumbled forward, clutching her chest as though the blow were physical. Her voice trembled with barely suppressed panic:

“What do you mean, ‘no intention of letting me return’? What could I possibly do alone abroad? Who would even recognize me as a daughter of the Lu family there?”

Tears welled in the eyes of the delicate, flower-like girl, and without another thought, she threw herself into Luo Mingyue’s arms.

The urge to shove her away was nearly reflexive. Suppressing the visceral disgust that crawled through her, Luo Mingyue reminded herself: Some people lived their entire lives as if performing in an exaggerated reality show, meticulously calculating every smile, every gesture, treating every person and thing as mere props in their personal drama.

Lu Jia was a master of the craft. By the end in her past life, Luo Mingyue had wondered, had the woman spent so long acting that she’d forgotten who she truly was?

Having been betrayed to death once, Luo Mingyue had returned with vengeance in her heart, an undying hatred that would never fade.

Yet she couldn’t deny it, she was becoming more and more like Lu Jia.

Gently, she wrapped her arms around Lu Jia, one hand resting at her waist, the other stroking her untouched, flowing hair.

Such a heartwarming and touching scene, if the camera zoomed in, one would see the female alpha softly comforting the delicate young girl, a cold smirk playing on her lips, betraying not a trace of genuine emotion.

Lu Jia lay sobbing in Luo Mingyue’s arms, her voice trembling with grievance. “I know I’ve been a burden since I was little, but I’ve tried so hard to please everyone. All my life, I’ve never even had the courage to raise my voice. Even if what happened with the Qin family was my fault, it’s not like the alpha suffered any real loss. After eighteen years of affection with Grandmother, does her reputation really matter more than me in the end?”

Luo Mingyue thought to herself, if this were her past life, she would have rushed to plead with Grandmother without hesitation. What could stir an alpha’s protective instincts more than a fragile, beautiful omega with a tragic childhood?

Lu San had once remarked about her: “You, with your own miserable background, have no time to pity yourself but plenty to spare for others? These days, there’s no shortage of people meddling where they don’t belong. Lu Jia playing the victim once could be called sincerity, but if she’s done it countless times since childhood, isn’t that just acting?”

In her past life, people had come and gone around her. In the flickering moments before death, separated by the river of time, everyone seemed like mere players in a scripted drama.

Back then, she had been like a subpar actress who never truly immersed herself in the role. Now, her expression remained indifferent as she lowered her head and whispered gently into the girl’s ear, “Jiajia, you’re a good girl. Don’t resent Grandmother, she’s only thinking of your future. Staying in the capital wouldn’t do you any good. The circles here,  the things they say are cruel. Sending you abroad is her way of protecting you.”

Lu Jia barely held back the urge to call her an idiot. She had always found Luo Mingyue’s stupidity utterly appalling her thought process as simplistic as a single-celled organism. What kind of “protection” was this? Being shipped off abroad with nothing but a payout?

What could she even do overseas? Most omegas just ended up marrying some international student, buying a fully paid-off apartment, and receiving a basic luxury handbag on their anniversary, deluding themselves into thinking they’d landed a wealthy alpha.

No matter how poorly the Lu family treated her, Lu Ping was generous with his sisters, designer bags were as casually given as bottles of water. Lu Xi and the others would pass their unwanted new bags to Lu Jia without a second thought.

Having grown accustomed to such dazzling extravagance, she was a Lu too! Why should she settle for some mediocre rich heir? Let alone end up marrying into a middle-class family abroad, doomed to a life as a housewife?

Even Luo Mingyue, tears welled in Lu Jia’s eyes after Third Miss Lu’s death, hadn’t all her shares, inheritance, and jewelry, like that now-priceless jade set, gone to Luo Mingyue?

With a sniffle, Lu Jia murmured, “Sister Mingyue, when I was little, I really thought. I’d grow up to be your bride.”

This nearly gave Luo Mingyue the fright of her life.

Lu Jia had laid her cards on the table, waiting for Luo Mingyue to take the bait. But she quickly noticed Luo Mingyue stiffen entirely. Peeking up to study her expression, she was met with a face frozen in shock.

Feigning shyness, she asked, “Are you really that surprised? You look completely stunned.”

Luo Mingyue didn’t dare admit that no horror movie had ever terrified her as much as those words. Instead, she burst into laughter, starting as a soft chuckle before doubling over, clutching her stomach in uncontrollable mirth.

Lu Jia also smiled, “Are you happy like this?” Then shyly added, “I thought there was a rift between us during this time, and it made me very sad. I thought you didn’t like me anymore.”

Luo Mingyue seemed to hear some great joke, laughing until tears welled up in her eyes. She suddenly pushed Lu Jia away and asked softly, “Did you really think about marrying me?”

Before Lu Jia could answer, Luo Mingyue’s captivating peach-blossom eyes finally lifted their lids, their gaze shimmering with emotion just as Lu’s grandmother had once said:

She has a face that looks rebellious and eyes that never seem to settle.

From then on, she had habitually kept her head down, only occasionally glancing up, allowing others a glimpse of those beautiful eyes that appeared both affectionate and indifferent.

Lu Jia was stunned for a few moments before urgently replying, “Why would I lie to you? Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s nothing. I just saw how close you were with Zhang Zhuoran and felt that childhood notions can’t always be relied upon.”

“Zhang Zhuoran suddenly started pursuing me for some reason,” Lu Jia said with a reassuring, teasing tone. “And I never agreed to be his girlfriend. If it bothered you, you should have told me sooner.”

But Luo Mingyue remained silent. Lu Jia thought she was jealous and secretly delighted, only for the other to suddenly murmur, “But if you could date or even get engaged to Zhang Zhuoran, even Grandmother would have to show him respect. Then you wouldn’t be sent abroad and barred from returning.”

“I’m useless. I can’t help you at all. I just hope you can be with someone who can truly protect you.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Lu Jia was shocked.

“What does true happiness mean to you?”

“What do you want me to say?” Lu Jia steadied herself.

“I’ve grown used to being Grandmother’s puppet, but you’re different. You’re smart and beautiful, unlike other omegas. You’re so special and unique, every alpha is drawn to you. Someone like you should live a happier life than this, one where Lu Xi and the others can never look down on you again.”

Lu Jia suppressed the joy in her eyes. “How could you think that way?”

The beautiful female alpha gave a bitter smile. “I want you to be happier than anyone else. I want you to have everything Lu Xi and the others have and more.”

“But I’m useless. I can’t give you anything. Not even when you’re being sent away, all I can do is tell myself it’s for the best.”

Without waiting for a response, Luo Mingyue grabbed her laptop and fled the living room as if escaping.

She brushed past Lu Ping, who was standing at the entrance, who knew how long he’d been there, probably just looking for a midnight snack.

Lu Ping gave her an admiring look and a thumbs-up. “Damn, that’s wild! I never knew you were such a simp!”

Luo Mingyue ignored him as if he were a barking dog.

Life was all about acting, and she was certain Lu Jia would take desperate measures to secure Zhang Zhuoran for good.

In her past life, Zhang Zhuoran had indeed been unremarkable, but it was only later revealed, after the current timeline that his mother, after divorcing, had walked away with half the family fortune. She turned out to be the sole heiress of an overseas syndicate with influence in both legal and underworld circles.

A leaked recording surfaced online: the second daughter of a former bureau chief, an omega missing for years, had been forced into pregnancy to pressure for marriage. Zhang’s mother had ordered her body to be encased in a concrete pillar of Lianhai Bridge.

There was also substantial evidence that Zhang Zhuoran had gotten foreign omegas pregnant, including wealthy second-generation omegas from affluent families. One was even beaten in a sack attack late at night, resulting in a miscarriage.

All of it was orchestrated by Zhang’s mother.

Luo Mingyue speculated that the woman was extremely picky about her daughter-in-law’s family background, refusing to allow any omega who didn’t meet her standards to become Zhang Zhuoran’s legal wife.

In her past life, when these incidents were exposed, Zhang’s mother fled abroad overnight on a private jet. Yet, those coveting the Zhang family’s wealth had no qualms, some well-off families were still willing to arrange a marriage.

But a year later, Zhang Zhuoran remained unfaithful. Before he could even settle on a fiancée, he already had a pair of alpha twins born through surrogacy.

By the time Luo Mingyue died in her previous life, Zhang Zhuoran still hadn’t married.

But at this point in time, even Old Madam Lu was unaware of these details, let alone Lu Jia. The thought amused Luo Mingyue.

Have I become as malicious as Lu Jia?

No, she hadn’t.

Could Zhang Zhuoran truly have been ignorant of his mother’s actions? Two people with blood on their hands deserved to ruin each other.

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