Transmigrated as the Cannon Fodder Boss of the Disabled Heroine - Chapter 34.1

“What pretty girls? I didn’t even get to eat properly today!”

Pei Yujiang didn’t immediately realize the ambiguity in her words. She had just been dragged to a business dinner by someone she disliked right after work, forcing her to put on a polite facade without being able to vent her frustration. She felt like a wind-up mechanical cat whose spring had been removed—the moment she got home, she just wanted to collapse and shut down.

And that driver had the nerve to say something about taking her to see pretty girls. What pretty girls?

“The only one there was Zhao Shuangshuang, an old friend of mine. I don’t hang out with her much anymore.”

Pei Yujiang thought it over and decided to explain, just to prevent Yu Zhiwan from misunderstanding her.

Zhao Shuangshuang was indeed attractive—the original host was an unapologetic looks-obsessed person, and while her choice of friends might have been questionable in terms of character, at least their appearances were decent. But beneath that pretty face lurked a venomous heart, and anyone who got involved with her was bound to suffer.

The original host’s tragic fate in the novel was partly due to Zhao Shuangshuang’s influence. In the past, Zhao had constantly egged her on to pick fights with her family. When it came to Pei Jinhuai’s concern for her, Zhao claimed it was suffocating, insisting that after Pei Jinhuai married Fan Zhaozhao, she had become completely love-struck, favoring her new wife over her own daughter.

Zhao Shuangshuang even led the original host to speculate whether Pei Jinhuai’s compensatory behavior stemmed from an affair with Fan Zhaozhao, which had caused her divorce from the original host’s Alpha father.

The original host, like a rebellious teenager who never grew out of it, actually wavered under Zhao’s instigation and even considered confronting Pei Jinhuai about it.

Pei Yujiang didn’t like her, but the fact that Zhao held leverage over the original host was undeniably troublesome.

“By the way…”

Yu Zhiwan had prepared a sobering soup for her. Though Pei Yujiang hadn’t drunk any alcohol, she gulped it down politely like water, then went to the kitchen to wash the bowl. After finishing, she suddenly remembered something and, after hesitating, decided to tell Yu Zhiwan.

“The place Zhao Shuangshuang took me to was a bathhouse. And I saw Liu Huanran there.”

Pei Yujiang knew the entertainment industry had been thriving two hundred years ago, but the fact that people were openly flirting in the lobby of a bathhouse still exceeded her understanding of this world.

Moreover, the bathhouse looked incredibly luxurious. She didn’t know the exact prices of the dishes, but judging by the craftsmanship and the lavish decor, it was clear that while it wasn’t as high-end as a private club, it was still beyond the means of ordinary people.

Liu Huanran had been there, getting cozy with a beautiful girl. Pei Yujiang had wanted to take a photo, but before she could pull out her phone, Zhao Shuangshuang showed up, making it impossible to snap a picture discreetly.

What’s more, Pei Yujiang was naturally sharp. When Zhao Shuangshuang asked her questions, the intent behind them was glaringly obvious. As Pei Yujiang sipped her chrysanthemum tea, she casually glanced over and, based on Zhao’s microexpressions, deduced that the room was likely bugged—either with listening devices or hidden cameras.

Zhao Shuangshuang probably knew Liu Huanran. Those questions had likely been asked on Liu’s behalf.

Once she admitted to stealing her subordinate’s girlfriend, her reputation would plummet, even being exposed online. The gossip-loving crowd might also criticize Yu Zhiwan as a promiscuous Omega. This world was already unfair to Omegas, with many moral constraints. She didn’t want Yu Zhiwan to be casually judged by those people.

As for Liu Huanran appearing there and being intimate with someone, Yu Zhiwan showed no reaction—neither anger nor jealousy. It was as if she had heard the name of a stranger, not stirring the slightest ripple of emotion.

Pei Yujiao felt a little thrill.

She didn’t know why she was happy. Maybe it was because she finally saw the female lead no longer being love-struck, and it was highly unlikely she’d engage in that “entangled romance to the ends of the earth, chasing each other to the crematorium” with Liu Huanran.

In her opinion, she hoped someone like Liu Huanran would turn to ashes in the crematorium, utterly unworthy of a lighthearted redemption arc before winning the beauty’s heart.

Pei Yujiao wiped her hands clean and called out to Yu Zhiwan:

“Should I take you home?”

Yu Zhiwan gave a soft “Mm” in response, then added in a drowsy murmur:

“I’m so sleepy.”

She looked like she had just showered before coming over, wearing a coral fleece pajama set suitable for going out—pink and white, with a cute Q-version bunny hugging a carrot embroidered on the chest, full of girlish charm.

Yu Zhiwan usually dressed in a minimalist style, which, paired with her face, exuded a mature, intellectual beauty. But in truth, she wasn’t that old, and her delicate features made such attire perfectly fitting.

The Omega tilted her head slightly as she yawned, her voluminous long hair cascading over her shoulders, giving off a casual, lazy vibe. Pei Yujiao stared at her for a few seconds, seemingly deep in thought, before immediately grabbing a thin but loose down jacket from the rack and draping it over Yu Zhiwan.

She pushed the door open, carried Yu Zhiwan—wheelchair and all—outside, and rushed her home at top speed.

Yu Zhiwan’s place was about a minute’s walk from Pei Yujiao’s, but she managed to cut it down to thirty seconds, including the time spent fishing out the keys to unlock the door.

Pei Yujiao swiftly closed the door behind them, not letting the cold night air seep in, and turned on the heater first before scooping up the drowsy Omega and tucking her into the bed.

She patiently adjusted Yu Zhiwan’s pillow and snugly tucked the blankets around her. After waiting a few minutes for the warm air to circulate and completely dispel the chill, she checked the windows and doors, ensuring everything was secure, then quietly shut Yu Zhiwan’s front door behind her.

Hearing the faint sound of the door closing outside, Yu Zhiwan, who had been lying there “exhausted,” slowly opened her eyes.

Pei Yujiao recently received one piece of good news and two pieces of bad news.

The good news was that the project proposal Yu Zhiwan had put forward was a great success. As soon as the promotional ads were released, the hype skyrocketed, performing far better than previous product launches.

Yuerong had been in business for years, with over 500,000 followers on its official blog. Though the numbers might not seem staggering, they were all genuine—Yuerong’s marketing department strictly prohibited fake promotions and buying bot followers.

But with the decline over the past two years, Yue Rong’s usual social media posts rarely garnered much interaction, with some even receiving only double-digit comments. This product launch was more meticulously planned than before, even announcing fragrance sampling promotions across major retail stores, which greatly piqued public interest.

The main reason was that most cosmetics focused heavily on visual appeal and performance. In recent years, marketing tactics had become endless—limited editions, cross-brand collaborations, celebrity endorsements—all of which had grown stale. Many were criticized for “putting effort into marketing but neglecting quality.”

Pei Jinhuai was optimistic about this launch, even boldly setting up pre-orders. The pre-order numbers surpassed those of previous official releases, boosting her confidence so much that she wished the product could hit shelves tomorrow.

However, the head of the marketing department advised her to wait. Yue Rong was the first to venture into “essence-infused perfumed cosmetics”—the pioneer in uncharted territory. With great attention came great scrutiny.

Many influencers began posting videos of their in-store fragrance sampling experiences. Pei Yuzhuo came up with an idea: each store would offer different scent samples. Collecting all samples during the pre-order period would earn customers an experience kit, allowing them to receive the product first upon official release—no gimmicks like “exquisite free gifts worth XXX yuan,” just a straightforward first-come, first-served approach.

Yu Zhiwan’s aesthetic touch ensured the scent samples received high praise online, though some influencers dismissed them as yet another marketing ploy, questioning whether the actual cosmetics would truly carry the same fragrance.

Regardless, the hype was real—more effective than buying trending hashtags. After all, paid trends could easily go unnoticed and quickly fade unless continuously boosted, often drawing criticism. This time, the buzz grew organically as influencers tried the samples, naturally driving traffic.

Pei Jinhuai was in high spirits, eagerly anticipating the launch and even personally responding to questions on the official account. Pei Yuzhuo, too, felt considerably better.

But two pieces of bad news remained: Yu Zhiwan’s darkening tendencies hadn’t subsided, and Zhao Longshuang had sent another ultimatum.

Zhao Longshuang’s previous message had been somewhat tactful, but this time, she first asked if Pei Yuzhuo wanted the Alpha pheromone extract. After being refused, she complained about potential trouble heading her way—hinting that Pei Yuzhuo should pay to avoid disaster.

A small sum wouldn’t have been an issue, but Zhao Longshuang demanded additional fees—shipping charges, communication costs, and so-called “stockpiling expenses”—totaling over five million after rounding.

If Pei Yuzhuo paid that, she’d be a fool getting scammed while helping count the money.

The quarterly profits from cosmetics were still uncertain—money wasn’t as easy to make as imagined. In real life, few could casually toss out five million, let alone for someone else’s mess. She didn’t earn enough now—was she supposed to use Pei Jinhuai’s money to settle this?

Worse, these people were like bottomless pits, likely to return for more extortion.

If she feared legal consequences, she’d be trapped in endless threats, too afraid to report them.

But using an Alpha’s pheromone extract to disguise as an Alpha, if one hasn’t illegally marked an Omega, been sued, or posed a threat to public safety, usually just results in paying a fine—a few thousand at most, nothing too severe.

Moreover, this country’s legal system categorizes crimes by severity levels, with a provision that anything at E-level or below can be settled with double the fine for confidential handling.

The severity levels range from A to F. Some E-level offenses can be concealed, while others can’t—like getting into a slap fight without serious consequences, which could be classified as either E or F. F-level offenses are those with negligible impact.

Pei Yujiao even considered simply turning herself in.

Yicheng was raining again.

Northern cities rarely see prolonged drizzles in autumn. By late November, Yicheng was practically in winter, with biting winds that had thinned the streets as people sought warmth indoors.

Today, Yu Zhiwan stayed behind with the staff to prepare for a project, leaving Pei Yujiao to head out first. With no nightlife to speak of, she grabbed dinner at a mall and wandered through a newly opened park.

No matter how harsh Yicheng’s winter winds were, even if they stung her lungs with each breath, Pei Yujiao paid it no mind.

She cherished this quiet, cozy life—sometimes ordering takeout or dining out after work, occasionally joining Pei Jinhuai for dinner.

Fan Zhaozhao and Jiang Wenxiu weren’t bad people. Fan was a bit gossipy and doted on Jiang Wenxiu as much as Pei Jinhuai had doted on the original host, but she wasn’t malicious. Pei Jinhuai often worked late, returning only at night, but Yu Zhiwan’s new project had reignited her youthful drive.

In a few days, the “Floral Essence Series” would launch, and the entire Yue Rong team was buzzing with momentum. Everything was moving in the right direction. Pei Yujiao mused that once this phase passed, if profits allowed, she might borrow some money from Pei Jinhuai to pursue her own interests.

The impending apocalypse two centuries away remained a thorn in her heart, forcing her to stay vigilant even in times of peace.

As the night wind gusted, Pei Yujiao cut through an alley after leaving the park, feeling sporadic raindrops. Winter rain was icy, chilling to the bone. She had planned to jog home and wasn’t about to change her mind, though she might need to buy a raincoat.

While navigating winding streets in search of a convenience store, she overheard voices near a narrow alley.

A lecherous male voice grunted, “This little lady’s got soft skin and a pretty face—looks like she’s from a wealthy family.”

“Boss, you got X-ray vision or somethin’? How can you tell she’s soft under all those clothes? You felt her up or what?”

“Quit yappin’. No cameras here. We doin’ this or not?”

Pei Yujiao halted mid-step.

Her teeth pressed into her lower lip. Through the cold rain, she pinpointed the source of the voices and sprinted toward a fork in the alley.

The umbrella clattered to the ground as a slender woman, drenched from head to toe, trembled at the dead end of the alley, sobbing quietly. Hearing approaching footsteps, the three thugs turned in unison. Upon seeing it was just a woman, their initial wariness gave way to wild delight when they noticed Pei Yujiang hadn’t released any pheromones.

The towering leader of the gang probably thought she was fresh prey delivered to his doorstep. He leered as he advanced toward Pei Yujiang.

“Get out of the way!” Pei Yujiang shouted sharply.

“Oh ho, the pretty girl’s got some training?” The leader’s grin turned even more suggestive as he adopted a proper stance before charging at her with slightly more seriousness. The woman standing her ground deftly caught his outstretched wrist—not with force, but with a gentle twist of her thumb.

A bloodcurdling scream pierced through the pattering rain. Pei Yujiang followed up with a powerful kick to his groin. The man’s eyes rolled back before he could even curse, collapsing unconscious into the filthy puddles.

Pei Yujiang’s earlier shout had actually been for the woman, who wisely ducked into a corner to avoid getting splashed.

After efficiently neutralizing one threat, Pei Yujiang didn’t bother chasing the other two who fled at the sight of their leader’s defeat. Instead, she approached the shivering woman in the corner.

The woman was frantically wiping her tears with one hand while clutching the umbrella she’d picked up from the ground in the other. Rainwater streamed noisily down the ribs of the umbrella.

“Are you okay?” Pei Yujiang stopped two or three meters away after confirming under the dim light that the woman was unharmed. She softened her voice reassuringly, “It’s safe now. Let’s get out of this alley first. Don’t be afraid.”

“Help me…”

“What?”

The woman’s words were slurred and carried a faint regional accent, making it hard for Pei Yujiang to catch immediately. She leaned forward slightly, bending politely at the waist, just in time to hear:

“Call the police—”

Before the words fully left the woman’s mouth, the waterlogged umbrella came swinging straight at Pei Yujiang’s face!

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