The Reborn Scummy A and the Sickly O Got Together - Chapter 9

The summer breeze along the coast carried a damp heaviness, and even the yellow-billed mynah in the wooden cage by the window seemed listless.

Its wings and tail drooped weakly, occasionally letting out a hoarse cry or two.

The Feng family had few descendants, and by the third generation, there were only two children left. The eldest daughter, Feng Baiming, was now twenty-one, a picture of composure and grace, standing out even among the young ladies and gentlemen of the capital.

In contrast, the younger daughter, Feng Shaoyang, a nineteen-year-old alpha, was far too impulsive by comparison.

Because of this, their parents had yet to decide who would inherit the family’s future, still wavering between the two.

After all, the younger alpha daughter was the type to vanish without a word like the summer after high school graduation, when she packed a bag and ran off to Africa as a volunteer.

The reckless passion of youth might be something adults could laugh off, but when it came to an heir, it raised doubts about whether she’d bring disaster upon them.

Especially for a family like the Fengs, where even a single misstep could spell ruin.

The only issue with Feng Baiming was that, aside from being an omega, she had always been frail. The slightest chill would send her into a low fever, plagued by minor illnesses. Countless hospital visits and tests later, traditional doctors diagnosed her as constitutionally weak, with a deficient spleen and stomach. Western doctors called it low immunity, prescribing more exercise and fresh fruits and vegetables.

In short, Feng Baiming had no life-threatening conditions, just a naturally delicate constitution.

Even in the height of summer, she couldn’t bear prolonged air conditioning, as it made the air feel stifling and sent chills deep into her bones.

Feng Shaoyang knew her sister usually napped in the afternoon, but by her calculations, it was nearly time to leave.

She knocked lightly on the door, waiting patiently, but no invitation came from inside.

With no other choice, she turned the handle finding it unlocked and pushed the door open. Inside, she saw her sister leaning against the windowsill, propping her head up, an unfinished English thesis beside her.

Summer days were long, and the Feng estate was shaded by towering trees outside. Dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, spilling into the room through the window.

The girl’s lashes fluttered as she stirred awake in the fragmented light, rubbing her temples with a slight headache.

Feng Shaoyang had just approached, hesitating whether to shake her sister awake, her hand hovering near her shoulder when she noticed the weariness in her sister’s expression as she woke.

Concerned, she asked, “A-Jie, why didn’t you sleep in bed? Sitting like this, are you feeling dizzy?”

Feng Baiming shook her head. She had only been dreaming.

In the dream, voices clamored chaotically, like some grainy, pirated black-and-white film, dragging on with the weight of passing years.

Only when funeral music began to play did the crowd around her fall silent, and she realized this was a funeral.

Whose funeral?

Feng Baiming held a black umbrella. As the noise faded, she heard the steady patter of rain. Moving through the crowd, she lifted the edge of the umbrella before a tombstone, bending to place a bouquet of white flowers.

She was still puzzled, who was this?

Amid the endless drizzle, the black-and-white photograph on the tombstone came into view. The moment she saw it clearly, a piercing grief enveloped her.

Feng Baiming felt an overwhelming sorrow, deep in her soul.

The mynah squawked twice more, flapping its wings as Feng Shaoyang approached the window.

“Sounds worse than a toad,” Feng Shaoyang remarked, eyeing the black bird. “If A-Jie hadn’t taken pity and brought you home, you’d have starved out there long ago.”

Outsiders often described Feng Baiming as cold-faced and cold-hearted, but Feng Shaoyang thought, “What do you all know?”

Her elder sister was actually very compassionate toward animals, having rescued countless cats and dogs, spending no small sum of money. Even this myna bird had been picked up by her sister, who patiently nursed its injured wings back to health.

And because its cries were particularly hoarse and unpleasant, she worried that others would reject it if she handed it over so she simply kept it herself.

Feng Shaoyang believed her sister was far from cold-hearted; on the contrary, she had a bit of a saintly disposition.

Feng Baiming found the dream strange. Aside from the suffocating tide of sorrow, the clearest thing was the pair of eyes in the black-and-white photograph.

They were beautiful peach-blossom eyes, the lids slightly lowered in what must have been an unconscious gesture when the photo was taken.

Yet she couldn’t recall ever seeing them before.

“I’m fine,” Feng Baiming said to her sister, offering a faint smile. After a pause, she couldn’t help but ask, “Among the people we know… is there a girl with peach-blossom eyes?”

Feng Shaoyang found the question utterly baffling. “Are you looking for someone?”

She thought carefully, then her expression turned amused. “Well, there is someone you’ll meet in the future who has peach-blossom eyes.”

Feng Baiming closed the notebook on the table, packed away her stationery, and didn’t press for details.

She already felt the question was absurd and pointless, just an unverifiable dream. Well-read and widely knowledgeable, Feng Baiming understood clearly.

Dreams weren’t some mystical, unfathomable phenomenon.

Dreams were merely the brain piecing together information from one’s own cognition during sleep. Just as a person couldn’t imagine something they’d never seen, they also couldn’t dream of scenes beyond their own awareness.

“Maybe some minor actress, or a photo I scrolled past,” Feng Baiming murmured.

Feng Shaoyang didn’t catch it. “What did you say?”

Feng Baiming shook her head. “Nothing. You came to tell me to get ready to leave, right? No more nonsense, let’s not keep Uncle Wang and the others waiting.”

The family’s driver and servants came upstairs to move the luggage, scattered across six or seven trunks. From daily-use cups and stationery to favorite decorations, clothes, and frequently worn jewelry…

Feng Baiming had intended to pack light, but this was already the result of careful selection and simplification.

“I had no idea I owned so many daily necessities,” Feng Baiming remarked, already seated in the car as she watched the SUV designated for luggage pull up behind them.

Feng Shaoyang was enthusiastically briefing her on the Lu family’s children, she’d already given an introduction a couple of days prior.

Feng Baiming memorized each detail out of courtesy and her instinct for gathering information. This gave Feng Shaoyang the wrong impression, and today she escalated, diving into Lu family gossip.

Soon the car was on the road, with Feng Shaoyang chattering nonstop like a loudspeaker.

Feng Baiming absorbed the Lu family gossip, distilling the information into a simple summary: Lu Ping, the eldest son of the Lu family, was a playboy neither particularly good nor bad in character, who had been in and out of relationships since he was sixteen.

Feng Shaoyang warned, “Sis, he’s decent-looking, so don’t fall for it.”

Before Feng Baiming could scoff, Feng Shaoyang muttered to herself, “But with someone like Lu Ping’s level, you wouldn’t even glance at him. If my sister’s standards were that low, she wouldn’t have stayed single for twenty-one years, still relying on pheromone suppressants every month.”

Feng Baiming couldn’t be bothered to respond, but Feng Shaoyang pressed on, “There have been plenty of high-quality alphas and even betas throwing themselves at you. Sister, you’re twenty-one now, have you never liked anyone all these years?”

“I like beautiful people,” Feng Baiming glanced at her sister, “and then their personality determines whether I truly like them.”

Feng Shaoyang’s eyes lit up. “There’s this rising starlet recently, she’s a beta, but absolutely stunning.”

She then heard her sister say lazily, “There are many beauties in the world, but too few souls that match their looks. I don’t like empty-headed beauties. How many celebrities can sit down and read a book properly? Don’t bring those pretty faces from the fame circus to me.”

“Oh…” Feng Shaoyang thought for a moment. “Where were we? Ah, right, the third daughter of the Lu family’s child, Luo Mingyue. Didn’t I mention her before? We went to the same high school. Though we didn’t interact much, she’s undeniably one of the most beautiful people.”

Feng Baiming nodded. “I remember. An alpha girl, you mentioned her once. Is she really that unforgettable?”

She immediately gave a wary look. “Have your preferences changed now? Even alphas are fair game?”

“I’m not that indiscriminate!” Feng Shaoyang was utterly exasperated. But that didn’t stop her from pulling out photos from the file folder. “Here, these are photos of the Lu family members. Memorize them.”

Without refusing, Feng Baiming took the photos and saw they were neatly categorized with names and basic information.

Feng Baiming had an excellent memory. Scanning the photos, she noted their features and realized that regardless of anything else, the Lu family members were all exceptionally good-looking, probably due to generations of selective breeding. They were all handsome men and beautiful women.

Her gaze finally settled on the photo of a young alpha girl with gentle eyes smiling at the camera, understanding now what Feng Shaoyang meant by “you’ll meet a girl with peach-blossom eyes.”

“She is indeed beautiful,” Feng Baiming acknowledged. “For once, you’ve said something sensible.”

Feng Shaoyang: “Huh? Wait, what did I say?!”

Lu Jia didn’t dare stay in Luo Mingyue’s room any longer. Tears streaming down her face, she covered her eyes and ran out in exaggerated distress.

Luo Mingyue couldn’t care less. In fact, she considered it mercy that she had restrained herself from actually stabbing Lu Jia with the scissors.

Sitting back at her desk, she pondered for a long while before finally taking out pen and paper to list out the timeline, trying to recall all the significant events over the years.

Since she had been reborn, revenge against Lu Jia wasn’t the only thing she could do, she could also elevate her career to new heights.

Unfortunately, eight years ago, she had only been eighteen. The older she grew, the more she began paying attention to socio-economic trends and national policies.

At this point, Luo Mingyue was still a student, with no memory of entrepreneurial opportunities or policy shifts in recent years.

Frustrated, she jotted down a few things like the infectious disease making a resurgence this year, reminding herself to stay away from Lu Jia in the latter half.

She wouldn’t approach again when everyone kept their distance, being the only one who tirelessly cared for Lu Jia until his recovery.

This infectious disease caused facial herpes, with a certain probability of leaving permanent scars.

When her gaze fell upon the exquisitely wrapped gift on the table, Luo Mingyue froze, remembering it was a welcome present for Feng Baiming, who was about to live with the Lu family.

Her allowance had always been meager, incomparable to Lu Ping and the others.

Her grandmother once told her, “Wealth corrupts easily. Moreover, a noble person acquires wealth through righteous means. Rather than begging from the family, you should learn to earn money yourself.”

She took these words as doctrine, though she tried to ignore why the same wasn’t expected of Lu Ping, Lu An, and the other children.

The answer was simple: preventing her from going astray was one reason, but never truly seeing her as family was likely the second.

The gift Luo Mingyue prepared for Feng Baiming was a women’s watch barely exceeding five figures.

Years later, recalling this incident, she realized it had been the wrong choice, even a five-figure necklace would have been better.

A necklace worth five figures was acceptable for the young mistress of the Feng family, but a watch in that range would raise suspicions about the Fengs’ financial ruin.

Back then, she didn’t understand. She had saved her modest allowance to buy the watch she had long admired, presenting it as a welcome gift. At first, she never saw Feng Baiming wear it.

After a period of disappointment, she couldn’t bring herself to ask if Feng disliked it. Later, she couldn’t pinpoint when Feng Baiming finally started wearing it.

When she noticed, she eagerly asked, “Miss Feng, I’ve always loved this watch’s design. It truly complements your wrist beautifully.”

How shameless, how utterly presumptuous.

Luo Mingyue pressed a hand to her forehead, laughing bitterly at herself. Why would Feng Baiming wear a watch that wasn’t even entry-level luxury?

It was obvious, she had feelings for someone else, and her affection extended to the gift.

She loved Luo Mingyue, this weak and incompetent alpha, and wore the watch just to see her happy.

And that watch remained the only gift Luo Mingyue ever gave Feng Baiming in the eight years they knew each other.

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