Transmigrated as the Cannon Fodder Boss of the Disabled Heroine - Chapter 79

After seeing off Pei Yujiang and Yu Zhiwan, Pei Jinhuai lay in bed late at night, tossing and turning with a troubled heart even after finishing her work and taking a shower.

Fan Zhaozhao ironed and hung the coats they would wear the next day, ensuring everything was perfect before slipping under the covers. Though they had a housekeeper, she preferred handling such tasks herself. Ever since marrying Pei Jinhuai, she found warmth in these small domestic gestures, and no matter how many times she did them, her efforts never went unnoticed or taken for granted by Pei Jinhuai.

Despite her chaotic thoughts, Pei Jinhuai noticed Fan Zhaozhao’s meticulous care and murmured,

“You’ve worked hard.”

Sensing her unease, Fan Zhaozhao asked softly as she lay down,

“What’s wrong? Is something on your mind?”

The lights were off, plunging the room into darkness, with only the faint hum of the silent air conditioner filling the space. Pei Jinhuai lay still, emptying her mind and steadying her emotions before finally answering after a long pause.

“Zhaozhao,” she began haltingly, each word burning like hot coals on her tongue before she forced them out, “what would you do if you found out Xiuxiu wasn’t your daughter?”

“Xiuxiu isn’t—” Fan Zhaozhao’s eyes widened in the dark. “Are you exhausted? What are you talking about?”

Jiang Wenxiu was flesh of her flesh, a child she had carried and birthed after enduring labor pains. How could she not be her daughter? Such a question might make sense if asked of a man or someone else, but Fan Zhaozhao wondered if Pei Jinhuai had lost her mind.

She wasn’t angry, just concerned that her partner might be mentally overwhelmed. Pei Jinhuai had been swamped with work lately, reinvesting herself in the company and spending less time with her. But Fan Zhaozhao had her own career and didn’t mind the distance.

Assuming it was stress, Fan Zhaozhao comforted her,

“You shouldn’t push yourself so hard. Rest more—the company is running smoothly now. It’s not like before when every minute counted. If you keep this up, I’ll really have to insist you take a vacation…”

“No, what I mean is—what if one day you discovered Xiuxiu had been replaced by someone from another world, and she herself no longer wanted this identity, choosing to leave you behind and stop being your daughter? How would you feel?”

One of the reasons Pei Jinhuai and Fan Zhaozhao connected so deeply was their willingness to listen to each other, no matter how absurd the topic.

Fan Zhaozhao was stunned at first, but after a moment, she replied,

“I’d probably be shocked and heartbroken. But if it was her choice, I’d respect it. And it would depend on how well the new person and I got along. If they’ve taken Xiuxiu’s place and truly see me as their mother, then maybe my purpose in life is to care for this new child. I watched Xiuxiu grow up, and now she’s gone, replaced by someone else to keep me company. Maybe that’s just fate’s way.”

After Fan Zhaozhao finished her long speech, she turned her head to look at Pei Jinhuai in the darkness and asked for her thoughts:

“What do you think?”

Truth be told, Pei Jinhuai had harbored suspicions for quite some time. After all, she was a mother who deeply cherished her child. Although her daughter had been mischievous and disobedient in the past, often causing her heartache, she had always tolerated that behavior. So naturally, she found it even easier to accept the increasingly improved Pei Yujiang.

At first, Pei Jinhuai genuinely believed her daughter’s temperament had changed for the better and secretly rejoiced. But as time went on, she began to notice that this young woman seemed vastly different from the little Yu she once knew.

Especially after recent events, Pei Jinhuai became even more convinced. Even if her daughter had matured and grown wiser, such a drastic transformation was impossible. She knew her daughter’s capabilities well—Pei Yujiang had demonstrated skills far beyond what little Yu had ever possessed, and she had never trained her in those areas.

During her overtime shifts, Pei Yujiang would send comforting messages. When far away in Xiangcheng, she frequently video-called to ease her mother’s longing, sometimes even ordering takeout to ensure she ate on time.

Pei Jinhuai had developed stomach issues from years of overwork. For a period, Pei Yujiang even called to supervise her meals. These gestures were all etched in Pei Jinhuai’s heart. Though occasionally she found them slightly peculiar, they never diminished her deep gratitude.

Over this time, she had pondered many things. What ultimately solidified her conviction was Yu Zhiwan.

That day in the study, they spoke at length. When Pei Jinhuai mentioned having a strange dream, Yu Zhiwan asked her bluntly:

“If you discovered Pei Yujiang wasn’t your biological daughter, could you withdraw your affection overnight? Would you negate all her kindness just because she isn’t your flesh and blood?”

Pei Jinhuai spent days reflecting and realized she couldn’t. Though it pained her greatly, these very individuals helped her reach a resolution.

Pei Jinhuai smiled at Fan Zhaozhao. “It’s nothing, just a passing thought. Let’s sleep.”

Whatever came next, she decided to let nature take its course. Closing her eyes, she acknowledged the anguish of learning her daughter had willingly left her, but life demanded moving forward.

A rustling sound followed as Fan Zhaozhao embraced her through the blankets in the dark.

———

With her robust constitution, Pei Yujiang bounced back quickly after being discharged, full of energy. Yu Zhiwan, occupied with wrapping up loose ends on her side, had been ignoring her until Jiang Wenxiu summoned them to the school, finally creating an opportunity to meet.

Since Yu Zhiwan lived next door, Pei Yujiang called to invite her for a ride. But the moment the call connected, she heard the AI navigation voice in the background. The Omega’s voice came through:

“Yicheng Xinghan High School, right? I can find it myself.”

Pei Yujiang sensed something amiss. “You’re already on your way?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I’ve got hands and feet to drive myself, and there’s always AI as backup.”

Nowadays, who doesn’t have self-driving installed in their car? When autonomous driving first hit the market officially, many designated drivers were furious and wanted to boycott it, fearing it would disrupt their jobs or even render them unemployed. Yu Zhiwan’s car was equipped with high-end AI driving with excellent safety ratings, but after recovering, she still preferred driving herself, enjoying the feeling of being in control.

But Pei Yujiang felt a pang of discomfort.

As she opened the car door, got in, and fastened her seatbelt, she asked an obvious question:

“Are you mad at me?”

Yu Zhiwan didn’t hesitate. She quickly responded with a soft “Mm,” acknowledging her anger. The car bypassed the traffic jam ahead and took an overpass instead. The scenery on both sides was pleasant. Yu Zhiwan had switched to autopilot mode, allowing her to lazily lean back in her seat and glance at her phone while taking in the surroundings.

“Didn’t you think about the consequences when you left Xi Jing’s side and went to save those people despite her backup plan?”

Pei Yujiang had promised to avoid unnecessary risks. The reality was, if the bomb hadn’t been defused in time, if she had been a step slower or reacted a beat late, she could have been surrounded or critically injured.

“But I understand the reasoning.” She agreed with Mother Pei’s words, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still upset.

At this point, Pei Yujiang seemed to miss the underlying message in the Omega’s words. After steering the conversation elsewhere for a bit, she hung up and focused on driving.

Using a phone while driving violates traffic rules. Pei Yujiang had been on autopilot earlier when she made the call, but now she switched back to manual—she still preferred driving herself.

Xinghan High School was a thirty-minute drive from home. In the parking lot, Pei Yujiang spotted Yu Zhiwan, who had already parked and was about to leave. It was afternoon, with teachers already in the school and no classes dismissed, making the sudden arrival of two cars particularly noticeable.

Yet Yu Zhiwan acted as if she hadn’t seen her, turning and walking away without a glance.

Pei Yujiang trailed about twenty to thirty meters behind, typing away on her phone as she walked.

Yu Zhiwan’s phone kept vibrating, but she ignored it, heading straight for the classroom building as Jiang Wenxian had directed. The teachers’ offices were connected to the main building, and Jiang Wenxian had specified the homeroom teacher’s office. Since the teacher had no class at the moment, she was free and waiting there.

During the two days Pei Yujiang was unconscious, Yu Zhiwan had grown close to Jiang Wenxian.

Though not naturally sociable, Yu Zhiwan found it easy to bond with people, especially someone like Jiang Wenxian—a mischievous but not entirely bad-natured girl. A few well-placed words of shared interest, and soon Jiang Wenxian was following her around, calling her “big sis” this and “big sis” that.

Now, Jiang Wenxian was even closer to Yu Zhiwan than to Pei Yujiang, even confiding in her about a girl she liked—though that was only after being mercilessly teased and rejected by Pei Yujiang first.

The teacher’s office was on the sixth floor, accessible by elevator. Pei Yujiang paused, choosing not to take the same elevator as Yu Zhiwan. By the time Pei Yujiang entered the office, Jiang Wenxian’s homeroom teacher was already deep in conversation with Yu Zhiwan.

Looking up at Pei Yujiang, the teacher blinked in surprise. “Hello, you are?”

“I’m Jiang Wenxian’s sister.”

Pei Yujiang gave a polite nod.

The homeroom teacher was surprised for a moment: “What? Jiang Wenxiu has two older sisters?” Then it dawned on her, “Oh, I see.”

A few minutes later, Pei Yujiang finally understood what kind of “favor” Jiang Wenxiu had called her here to help with.

Xinghan High School was a private-turned-public institution with decent academic performance and numerous extracurricular activities. Fan Zhaozhao had pulled strings and spent money to get Jiang Wenxiu enrolled here. Half the students came from well-off families, while the other half got in through exams. The government wasn’t too strict about these arrangements—as long as it wasn’t purely public, money could basically buy anyone a spot.

With summer vacation over, the school was organizing a fall camp scheduled in a few days, lasting three nights and four days. The theme was “Warmth”—not just camaraderie among classmates, but also requiring students to bring family members to experience familial bonds.

Jiang Wenxiu happened to be selected.

Pei Yujiang and Jiang Wenxiu had no blood relation—they were just conveniently picked-up sisters who met by chance. Their first encounter even ended with Jiang Wenxiu being thrown to the ground by Pei Yujiang, an embarrassing moment the younger girl still remembered vividly.

But compared to bringing Fan Zhaozhao along to nag her about everything, Jiang Wenxiu settled for the next best option—Pei Yujiang and Yu Zhiwan. She outright lied to the teacher, claiming the two had just gotten married this year after years of dating, their love unbreakable, their paper marriage certificate made of reinforced paper. The teacher was completely taken in.

Moreover, Pei Yujiang’s recent heroic deeds had spread, making her a positive role model who could bring the school-required “positive energy.” After some consideration, the young homeroom teacher—only about thirty herself—agreed. She understood that with real parents involved, things might get awkward, having witnessed how strict and difficult some parents could be.

The teacher gave them a thorough briefing—it was basically just for fun, no hardship required. High schoolers weren’t kindergarteners needing constant care, so it should be quite relaxed.

Listening to this made Pei Yujiang’s head spin.

Yu Zhiwan wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about such activities either, but both were people of their word. Having promised Jiang Wenxiu this favor, they’d see it through. Pei Yujiang reluctantly registered and paid the fee.

All these school gimmicks sounded nice but were mostly money-making schemes. Yet with kids enrolled there, parents couldn’t afford to offend the administration too much. No way around it.

When leaving, the teacher escorted the two benefactors to the foot of the teaching building. Not wanting to part ways immediately, Pei Yujiang and Yu Zhiwan walked side by side toward the parking lot. On the way, Pei Yujiang couldn’t help sighing:

“Good thing I don’t want kids.”

Raising children seemed like too much trouble—the pain of childbirth was one thing, but the lifelong effort required was another. Just attending these school events was exhausting enough. Parents had their own lives and responsibilities—constantly revolving around kids must be draining, even for full-time mothers.

Pei Yujiang imagined what it would be like if she and Yu Zhiwan had a baby. With both their good looks, their daughter would surely be beautiful and intelligent—a soft, adorable little bundle in childhood. The thought was somewhat tempting.

With modern technology, even two female Betas could have children through special means. Beta-Omega pairs could too, though since Betas lacked the natural ability to impregnate Omegas, they’d need procedures similar to IVF.

Pei Yujiang was first and foremost a woman who didn’t believe Omegas had to bear children. She absolutely couldn’t bear the thought of Yu Zhiwan suffering through that ordeal. IVF was particularly grueling for women—even more uncomfortable than natural pregnancy and childbirth. There was no need to endure such suffering just for the sake of the next generation—it wasn’t like they were giving birth to Nezha.

She had thought about it a lot, but Yu Zhiwan shot her a sharp glare:

“Who said anything about having children with you? Don’t flatter yourself.”

Pei Yujiang: “Whimper.”

Before their departure, Pei Yujiang ran into Zhao Manlin at the company, who had just returned from leave. She had taken a few days off to accompany Chen Tingjia until her mental state improved somewhat.

Seeing Pei Yujiang, Zhao Manlin’s attitude was noticeably warmer than before. She approached with a bright smile:

“Sorry about that, I was with Jiajia the past few days and had my phone off during my annual leave. How about I treat you to dinner tonight? We can invite Zhiwan and Xiao Ji too.”

Pei Yujiang had already forgotten about the unanswered messages and patted Zhao Manlin’s shoulder understandingly. Though she still felt a pang of bitterness over Yu Zhiwan’s recent attitude toward her, she quickly asked:

“What little chicken? Braised or stewed?”

Zhao Manlin: “…”

She stifled a laugh before replying after a few seconds:

“You’ll find out when you meet her tonight.”

That evening, Pei Yujiang finally realized the “Xiao Ji” Zhao Manlin mentioned wasn’t a dish but Ji Lingxian, the boss. She hadn’t known Ji Lingxian’s full name, let alone expected Zhao Manlin to call her “Xiao Ji”—normally, peers would use given names as nicknames.

At the dinner table, Boss Ji greeted Pei Yujiang with a grin, looking every bit the “girlfriend catching up” type.

They had booked a private room with a large round table instead of a four-seater. Pei Yujiang sat on the left, next to Yu Zhiwan, who was beside Ji Lingxian, with Zhao Manlin on Ji Lingxian’s right.

The four women were all strikingly attractive, 4a dazzling sight that would turn heads on the street. Yet, the atmosphere at the table was oddly tense.

Mainly from Pei Yujiang’s side.

Had she known Zhao Manlin meant Ji Lingxian, she wouldn’t have come tonight. As the host, Zhao Manlin happily opened several bottles of wine to start—those who couldn’t drink hard liquor had wine or cocktails, and there was always self-driving to rely on.

“President Pei told me Jiajia can return to Yuerong once she’s recovered. Her elderly relative was scammed first, then blackmailed into making her resign before being taken to that place. Sigh… Her grandmother raised her, and the old lady’s health was already poor. Thankfully, she pulled through after surgery, or who knows how Jiajia would have coped.”

Zhao Manlin downed several gulps of wine, refilled her glass, and toasted Pei Yujiang:

“Thank you, Yujiang. I admit I held some unfair opinions about you before, and I apologize. I’m truly grateful.”

Lately, Pei Yujiang had heard countless “thank yous,” even receiving an embroidered banner that was hung at Yuerong’s entrance. It read: “Selfless Heroine Pei—A Life Saved Is Greater Than Heaven.” The cringe was unbearable, and she had to persuade the family to take it down.

Zhao Manlin went on chattering about Chen Tingjia’s condition for a while. Hearing that Chen Tingjia was doing better, she felt quite happy and raised her glass to clink with Zhao Manlin’s.

With that, the two had buried the hatchet. Pei Yujiang never imagined there’d come a day when she’d be drinking and chatting with Zhao Manlin, even receiving a blushing thank you from her—the blush was from Zhao Manlin drinking too much on an empty stomach, having barely touched her food. Ji Lingxian couldn’t stand watching anymore and gently patted her shoulder:

“Hey, maybe you should take it easy.”

All four had driven there, but they ended up leaving in just two cars. Ji Lingxian, worried about Zhao Manlin, decided to take her home first before returning by taxi to retrieve her own car. Similarly concerned about Yu Zhiwan, Pei Yujiang carried her to her own vehicle.

Pei Yujiang only gave Ji Lingxian a quick goodbye before leaving. During dinner, she had openly announced that she and Yu Zhiwan were now together, but Ji Lingxian’s reaction had been oddly indifferent, as if she hadn’t even heard—something Pei Yujiang still remembered.

Once in the car, both women settled into the back seat. Yu Zhiwan hadn’t drunk much that day, yet she was already tipsy, hugging a large cushion while breathing softly. Pei Yujiang could smell the alcohol in the air—not overpowering, mingled with the fresh scent of Omega pheromones.

Yu Zhiwan’s heat wasn’t due yet; it would still be some time. Normally, Omegas could control their pheromones. Having been with an Omega long enough, Pei Yujiang knew exactly what was happening. She deliberately leaned away slightly, pretending to close her eyes and rest.

The ride passed in silence until the autonomous driving system brought them to the underground parking. The parking space was shared between their two units—Pei Yujiang and Yu Zhiwan were neighbors across the hall, so naturally, their parking spots were combined.

In the air, the Omega’s pheromones had clearly overtaken the scent of alcohol, even blending with the aroma of red wine to create a rich, lingering fragrance reminiscent of rosé—deep and intoxicating.

Pei Yujiang, who had only been pretending to sleep, actually dozed off and was awakened by the navigation system. Groggily, she realized she had somehow ended up leaning against Yu Zhiwan’s shoulder. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw up close was the snow-white collar of Yu Zhiwan’s shirt, the curves beneath clearly outlined, directly within her line of sight.

Pei Yujiang seemed unfazed. Facing the seemingly sleeping Omega, she leaned in close to her ear and whispered softly:

“Are you going to keep sleeping in the car? If so, I’ll head out first.”

As Pei Yujiang spoke, the pheromones in the air grew even stronger. She glanced at Yu Zhiwan’s nape, where, through strands of dark hair and under the dim light, she could see that the Omega’s suppressant patch had been quietly peeled off at some point. Yu Zhiwan herself was still pretending to be unaware, feigning restraint as she waited.

Hearing the sound of the car door opening, Yu Zhiwan finally spoke, sighing with a frown:

“It’s so hot.”

Pei Yujiang turned on the air conditioning.

The moment Yu Zhiwan’s eyelids fluttered, Pei Yujiang suddenly flipped over, pinning her down and biting the woman’s fair, delicate earlobe. Warm breaths brushed against their cheeks. Though autumn had arrived and the car didn’t need air conditioning, the underground parking made the interior slightly chilly.

But it didn’t stay that way for long—soon, the temperature inside the car rose, blazing hot.

“Didn’t you want me to cheer you up?” Pei Yuqiao pulled out a small box she’d prepared earlier from the backseat, pressing the fluffy cat teaser into her hand. Feeling the rising temperature, Yu Zhiwan trembled slightly as she heard that melodious voice drop to an unprecedented, sultry whisper in her ear, “Then tell me, how do you want to play today?”

Hehe.

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