The Scummy Alpha Transmigrated into a Tragedy Novel and Went Viral! - Chapter 37

Watching Ji Yufu walk faster and faster, Cheng Jingling finally sensed something was off. She hurriedly stopped her.

“Are you angry?”

“I said I’m not!” Ji Yufu snapped. Her body felt uncomfortably warm, and irritation was creeping into her voice.

Cheng Jingling sifted through her memories in a frantic mental brainstorm, wondering what she had done wrong. She had pinched Ji Yufu’s cheeks earlier and she hadn’t minded—so why the sudden mood swing?

Was it because of the dance?

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have danced with someone else. I’ll pay attention next time.”

“I told you, I don’t care.”

Cheng Jingling: “…”

But your face is saying the complete opposite.

Looking at Ji Yufu’s faintly knitted brows, Cheng Jingling didn’t dare say another word. She really did look like a little cat sulking because her owner had petted another cat—obviously upset, yet stubbornly pretending not to be. The tsundere energy was overwhelming.

Once the thought formed, Cheng Jingling couldn’t help imagining fluffy white cat ears sprouting from Ji Yufu’s head, and her lips curled up uncontrollably.

“If you’re unhappy or upset about anything, you can tell me directly. If I did something wrong, I’ll fix it! I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

She spoke softly, feeling as though she was coaxing a petulant kitten.

“I’m not angry. Thank you,” Ji Yufu said stiffly.

Seeing her keep contradicting herself, Cheng Jingling couldn’t resist teasing her.

“Then I’ll go hang out with them, okay? You don’t mind, right?”

Ji Yufu froze for a moment, took a deep breath to appear indifferent, and replied, “Go ahead.”

Then she headed straight back toward their yurt.

Cheng Jingling watched her walk away and sighed helplessly. This tsundere kitten only left her with a retreating back. She quickly caught up, stopping her again.

Ji Yufu kept her head lowered, refusing to look at her. Her expression was darker than before. When Cheng Jingling bent down to see her face clearly, her suspicion deepened—Ji Yufu was definitely bothered.

She gently lifted Ji Yufu’s chin. Forced to meet her eyes, Ji Yufu immediately looked away, flustered. Cheng Jingling couldn’t help laughing. She pinched her nose lightly.

“Do you realize how adorably stubborn you are?”

Ji Yufu, “criticized” again, frowned and continued staring elsewhere in stiff silence.

“You’re just a little bundle of tsundere.”

Ji Yufu brushed her hand off, unwilling to listen to more “nagging.” She turned to leave, but Cheng Jingling grabbed her and pulled her straight into her arms.

Resting her lips near Ji Yufu’s ear, she apologized softly, “Alright, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. Can our kind-hearted, gentle, elegant, beautiful Best Actress Ji please forgive me this once?”

Ji Yufu struggled, wanting to break free. But the more she resisted, the tighter Cheng Jingling held her.

“Ji Yufu!” Cheng Jingling called her name seriously.

Ji Yufu paused, waiting for what she would say next.

“Everything I said is sincere. If you’re ever unhappy or upset, you can tell me. Whatever you want, I’m willing to give it to you. I’ll listen to you carefully. From now on, I’ll prioritize your feelings, okay?”

The sudden confession left Ji Yufu completely flustered. Panic rose in her chest—since when had the distance between them become so unbearably close?

“You don’t have to feel pressured!” Cheng Jingling quickly added. “We’re comrades-in-arms, after all. Of course, we should prioritize each other. This mission can only end in victory, not failure.”

Hearing that, most of Ji Yufu’s panic melted away.

“Alright, let’s go back and sit for a bit. The director hasn’t dismissed us yet.” Ji Yufu nodded and followed her back. She glanced at their joined hands and frowned again.

She reminded herself firmly—This is just an act. No matter how real it feels, fake is still fake. If I don’t keep my boundaries clear, once the show ends, there’ll be nothing but pain. Better to stay sober from the very beginning.

Hand in hand, they returned to their seats. The other cast members had also gathered, watching tourists dance, take photos, and requesting pictures with them.

Cheng Jingling quickly brought over a stool for Ji Yufu and sat close beside her.

No sooner had they sat down than a group of tourists rushed up, eager for photos with Ji Yufu. They crowded around, and Cheng Jingling helped maintain order and shield her from being jostled.

After countless photos, Ji Yufu’s forehead was damp with sweat. The bonfire’s heat only made her feel hotter and increasingly irritable. Cheng Jingling thoughtfully handed her a cup of water.

“It’s so hot.” Ji Yufu leaned weakly against her.

Cheng Jingling touched her forehead. It felt too warm. Alarm bells went off instantly.

“Are you getting a fever again? Have you been taking the medicine Dr. Lin gave you?”

Last time, Ji Yufu had suddenly spiked a fever in the middle of the night. Dr. Lin had explained that her glands were in poor condition—long-term suppressants had thrown her pheromone system off balance, and the excessive pheromone release triggered by the inducer had further destabilized everything. The aftereffects were severe: she could fall into a high-heat susceptibility episode at any moment, yet her glands now produced too little pheromone to compensate. It was a dangerous combination.

The more Cheng Jingling thought about it, the more terrified she became. Without hesitation, she scooped the uncomfortable Ji Yufu into her arms and carried her toward the yurt, hoping the medicine would help.

But this completely innocent action looked very different to everyone else.

Seeing Cheng Jingling suddenly sweep Ji Yufu up bridal-style, stride toward the room, and radiate sheer Alpha dominance, the cast burst into a chorus of knowing laughter. Some even whistled at her retreating figure.

Wang Yumin was stunned. Sure, spicy content was great—but absolutely not allowed on a broadcasted show! He hurriedly yelled for Cai Keke to follow them and check what was going on.

Cheng Jingling gathered all her strength and scooped Ji Yufu into her arms, carrying her back to the room. Ji Yufu wasn’t heavy at all—easy to lift—so Cheng Jingling set her gently down on the bed.

“Where did you put your medicine? I’ll get it for you.”

“In the suitcase.” Ji Yufu’s voice was breathless from the heat. Cheng Jingling touched her forehead—hotter than before. Her expression tightened as she quickly opened the suitcase, pulled out the medical kit, and asked, “Do you need me to help you?”

“Miss Cheng, Miss Ji—are you two okay?” Cai Keke’s voice suddenly came from outside. Cheng Jingling pressed the medicine into Ji Yufu’s hands and went to open the door herself.

“We’re fine. Sister Keke, why are you here?” Cheng Jingling stepped out and pulled the door shut behind her. Cai Keke glanced her up and down—clothes intact, complexion normal—and finally let out the breath she’d been holding.

Heaven knew how terrified she’d been about the task the director had assigned her; she’d practically dug out a castle with her fingernails on the way over.

“Why did you two suddenly come back?”

“Yufu’s running a fever. I brought her back to rest.”

“A fever? Is it serious? I have fever reducers—let me grab some for you!” Cai Keke turned on her heel, ready to sprint off.

“No need, Sister Keke. We brought our own. She’s already taken the medicine.”

“Oh! That’s good. I’ll go tell the director. Take care of yourselves.”

And the ever-enthusiastic Cai Keke dashed away.

When Cheng Jingling returned inside, Ji Yufu had already injected a suppressant. After resting a while, she looked much better. Cheng Jingling touched her forehead again—the heat had eased—and finally exhaled in relief.

But the moment she felt a little better, the workaholic Ji Yufu insisted on returning to the bonfire party. Cheng Jingling tried everything to stop her, but nothing worked, so she could only stay close and keep a careful eye on her in case anything else happened.

When the two of them reappeared, everyone at the event was stunned. Jiang Yiyu even spat his milk tea out in a spray, nearly choking.

“Cheng Jingling, are you all looks and no substance?”

The explosive remark sent the whole group into laughter.

Cheng Jingling: “Huh?” What are you talking about?

Ji Yufu, cheeks blazing, hurried back to her seat. Bai Weilan slid in beside her, grinning wickedly.

“Why are you back so fast?”

“Weilan! You too.” Ji Yufu lowered her voice in mortified anger. “I just went to take a suppressant.”

Realization hit, and Bai Weilan’s smirk vanished.

“Oh, so that’s how it is. I knew it—Miss Cheng doesn’t look weak at all. No way it’d be that quick.”

“Weilan, you!” Ji Yufu was mortified beyond words. She wanted to disappear into the earth. And the others were even worse—recommending gym classes to Cheng Jingling, and even nutrition plans, making Ji Yufu’s scalp tingle. She was just a pure little kitten!

“But she really dotes on you, you know? You weren’t feeling well and she just picked you up and carried you off—so cool.” Bai Weilan recalled that moment—Cheng Jingling lifting Ji Yufu effortlessly, arms strong and steady, eyes fixed solely on her—her own romantic heart nearly fluttered out of her chest.

Ji Yufu: “…” Do you even hear what you’re saying?

Cheng Jingling, a little slow on the uptake, wasn’t embarrassed at all. She openly explained that Ji Yufu just wasn’t feeling well, so they went back for medicine. Everyone groaned at how unromantic she was—they wanted to bottle this memory for future use!

Thankfully, Bai Weilan stepped in.

“Alright, enough! If you keep going, Yufu’s going to bury her head in the ground. Spare the child!”

Everyone turned to Ji Yufu. She was perched on a little stool, face buried in the crook of Cheng Jingling’s arm, with only her ear peeking out—and it was bright red. They all burst into laughter as Ji Yufu buried herself even deeper, feeling like the show was simply impossible to film anymore.

The night’s chaos continued until nearly midnight, when the director finally announced that they could return to their rooms. Everyone headed back to pack their bags for tomorrow’s early flight to the next location. After saying goodbye to Mr. Aji’s family, Cheng Jingling and Ji Yufu returned to their room.

The door of the yurt closed softly. When it opened again, they would already be leaving this place.

The “little rich lady” closed the door behind her mechanically. After watching everything for an entire night, her heart was a tangled mess.

The answers she once desperately wanted—she no longer needed to seek them.

She reinstalled Weibo, logged back into her 200k-follower main account, changed the blacked-out profile picture back to a beautiful photo of Ji Yufu, and posted a simple comeback message:

“People fall in love with her over and over again at different ages. I’m back.

As for why I’ve finally let go of her love life, when the time is right, I’ll tell you.”

After posting, she exited Weibo again, too tired to care about anyone’s reaction.

She opened her photo album—shots she’d stolen throughout the night. Cheng Jingling pinching Ji Yufu’s cheeks. The two of them hugging. Cheng Jingling princess-carrying Ji Yufu.

Everything looked perfect.

But staring at the perfectly matched pair made her eyes sting.

A good sister pulled her into a hug, comforting her broken little heart. Another friend saw her Weibo post and shook her head helplessly.

“The Alpha you fell in love with at first sight and the Omega you adored the most ended up together. Meanwhile, you’re still single. Only your world got hurt! What karmic injustice—tsk, tsk.”

Little rich lady: “Shut up!”

The night passed quietly.

The next morning, all the artists boarded the bus to the airport. Mr. Aji’s family had prepared farewell gifts. Sang Zhuo invited Cheng Jingling and Ji Yufu to come riding again when they had time. They agreed with smiles. The engine started, and everyone waved goodbye.

On the bus, Ji Yufu quickly spotted the little rich lady hiding in the back of the crowd—she’d come to send them off but stubbornly stood at the very end, refusing even to wave goodbye. Ji Yufu smiled softly, raised her left hand in a V-sign, and waved with her right in the little rich lady’s direction.

She had made a promise with her fans long ago:

If she ever saw them but couldn’t respond aloud, she would give a left-handed V-sign. It meant she was okay. It meant she had received all their love.

The little rich lady froze for a second—and then tears spilled uncontrollably. Through blurred vision, she watched as the bus grew smaller and smaller, disappearing into the vast grasslands. She wiped her tears and looked toward the direction it vanished, heart filled with warmth.

You and I.

Maybe we’ll meet again in this lifetime.

Maybe that was our only meeting.

But whether or not we cross paths again, I’ll always bless the life you go on to live.

Go and feel love.

Be loved wholeheartedly.

Because you were once someone so terribly, achingly lonely.