After Transmigrating as a Scumbag Alpha, I Marked the Crazy Hotshot – Chapter 8

How Are You

“I won’t get engaged to Qin Yufu.”

Crash—

The European-style antique teacup on the coffee table was smashed by Cheng Jing against a nearby carved pillar.

Cheng Jiqing instinctively tensed—a bodily reflex to conflict. She glanced at the shattered pieces on the floor, her heart aching a little.

What a waste.

“Then what do you want? Are you satisfied now that rumors about you fooling around with an alpha are everywhere? Look at what you’ve become!” Cheng Jing’s earlier composure vanished the moment the alpha rumors resurfaced.

“What did you promise me this morning? You lied and ran off with that alpha Bai Xin all day. Do you think I don’t know what you two did?”

“You’ve disgraced the Cheng family’s reputation and thrown away your own dignity. Tell me—what exactly are you trying to achieve?”

Cheng Jiqing: “…”

I want to roam freely in the ocean— The thought wasn’t meant to be poetic; she just wanted the rhyme.

Even if the timing was inappropriate.

Cheng Jiqing sensed Cheng Jing’s rising agitation. In the original novel, this woman was portrayed as a decisive, cold-faced CEO. Was her intensity now due to excessive concern for her sister?

She took a breath, adopting a neutral but sincere tone: “I’m not trying to achieve anything. What’s wrong with me deciding my own matters?”

She held back the follow-up—You can’t control me forever—to avoid another shattered antique.

“Your decisions only lead to disaster! You were the one who insisted on marrying Qin Yufu. Now that your affair with Bai Xin is public, you suddenly want out? It’s too late!”

Cheng Jiqing realized the core issue remained her entanglement with Bai Xin. To these people, an alpha-alpha relationship seemed capable of upending the world. So Cheng Jing believed marrying the original omega protagonist would erase the rumors?

Cheng Jiqing was, by nature, a rationalist. Once she saw that words alone wouldn’t regain Cheng Jing’s trust, she stopped arguing.

The fight died as one side retreated. The tension dissolved into silence over half a minute.

Cheng Jiqing waited for the verdict.

“Stay home these next few days and reflect.” Cheng Jing gave her a conflicted look. “You can make your own choices, but if those choices destroy you, I won’t allow it. Even if you end up hating me.”

With that, Cheng Jing strode away.

Cheng Jiqing watched her leave. In the novel, Cheng Jing was the foundation enabling the original host’s arrogance. While not one to endure humiliation, Cheng Jiqing wouldn’t lightly sever ties with such a powerful ally. From an outsider’s perspective—

Despite the Cheng family’s vast empire, the core lineage under Cheng Jing had only three members: the original host, Cheng Jing, and their omega mother, a devout Buddhist who rarely returned home.

Cheng Jing’s strict yet doting concern for her sister made sense. Though occasionally, Cheng Jiqing wondered if the concern bordered on excessive… Maybe she just wasn’t used to familial devotion?

A flicker of emotion rose in her chest. She rubbed her tired, sore eyes and pushed the thought aside. Her mind needed rest.

She’d figure out her next steps after recovering.

The original host’s room was on the south side of the second floor. Memories told her the owner hadn’t returned in years.

The space was soothingly decorated in milky blues, with patterned wall decals and a calendar on the bedside—nothing suggesting the chaos of a reckless alpha.

The closet held neatly folded clothes: vibrant pieces shoved into a corner, cooler tones likely recent additions. Cheng Jiqing grabbed random pajamas and headed to shower.

Post-bath, her body melted into the bed, boneless. She’d barely eaten but felt no hunger—only exhaustion…

She expected dreams of her past life, the transmigration, or the system. Instead, she sank into dreamless sleep.

She’d slept from 2 PM until 5 AM.

Now ravenous, she rolled out of bed. A mini-fridge in the room saved her a trip downstairs. Cheng Jiqing took bread, cold milk, and stepped onto the balcony.

The world was quiet. Staring at the unfamiliar, opulent surroundings, she felt a fleeting disorientation—a loneliness urging her to connect. But she knew no one here.

Her silenced phone showed missed calls and WeChat alerts. A user named Song Ling¹ had spammed the most, including a message minutes prior. She skimmed.

This was likely Song Ling, the youngest daughter of the Song conglomerate, dubbed “Little Princess Song”—one of the original host’s close “dog friends”².

【Cheng Jiqing! You went alpha? For real—with Bai Xin?!】

【When? Where? Details!】

【If you don’t tell me, I’ll leak your bedwetting story from when you were 18.】

Cheng Jiqing: “…?”

She scrolled to the latest:

【Ugh, Jiali Mansion is getting trashier. They’ll do anything for clout. How can you stand Zeng Lu? She’s vile.】

She’d planned to go anyway: 【What’s up?】

【! Ignoring my questions, huh? Rude.】

【They’re shameless. That new “show” of theirs crosses every line.】

Song Ling sent a video. Cheng Jiqing didn’t open it—the thumbnail’s explicitness said enough. This world’s content regulations were laxer than hers.

Song Ling: 【Why did my family invite her to the wine party? Makes no sense.】

Song Ling: 【Wait—it’s a business event Saturday. Your sister and Bai Xin will be there. Maybe Qin Yufu too…】

Song Ling: 【This’ll be epic. I’m going.】

A voice message: “Cheng Jiqing, you’re coming too, right? It’ll be so juicy.”

Cheng Jiqing: “…”

Normally, the original host would never attend. But if Cheng Jing and Bai Xin were both present—given today’s blowup—who knew what would happen? Add Qin Yufu, and…

Unlikely they’d all show…

She’d wanted conversation but ended up sighing. She didn’t reply; Song Ling stayed quiet.

At 5:30 AM, she inexplicably opened her contacts.

To the only “acquaintance,” she sent a dawn greeting: 【Bai-jie, how are you?】

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South Sun Apartments

Dawn light seeped through gauzy curtains, casting the bedroom in gray. Bai Xin had just pulled on fresh sleepwear when her phone lit up silently.

She wasn’t sure what to make of this alpha. A day ago, they’d been sworn “love rivals.” Now, under a pre-sunrise sky, came this message.

The address “Bai-jie” felt pointed—Bai Xin was 28, Cheng Jiqing 23. The age gap was real.

Her peach-blossom eyes narrowed. Fingertips brushed the cotton bedsheet. What if I’m not okay? What’ll this little alpha do?

The car scene replayed vividly: Cheng Jiqing’s recoil as if she’d threatened murder, not asked for a hug. It made her doubt Cheng Jiqing had spiked her drink.

Cowardice? No.

More like… indulgence.

She couldn’t find a better word.

Bai Xin paused, then bent to collect her soiled undergarments. The faucet ran briefly before she returned to bed.

Heat cycles drained her. This one—her first post-marking by Cheng Jiqing—had been especially grueling.

Oddly, Cheng Jiqing’s presence that afternoon had soothed her. No suppressants, no release—just calm.

The thought flickered and died.

Her phone lit again.

Her father—Bai Zhaoliang³, head of the Bai conglomerate—texted at his usual wake-up time.

Bai Zhaoliang: 【Since you insist nothing happened, I’ll trust you. But remember: the Chengs aren’t to be provoked.】

Bai Zhaoliang: 【I’ve explained the screenshot to CEO Cheng as a joke. Don’t meet Cheng Jiqing privately again.】

Bai Zhaoliang: 【Cheng Jing dotes on that sister. Avoid giving her reasons to doubt.】

Bai Zhaoliang: 【Lay low until the rumors fade. Don’t forget Saturday’s wine party.】

Each line oozed paternal care and veiled suspicion. Not an ounce of warmth.

Bai Xin smirked coldly. 【Understood.】

Her heat would end before Saturday. No worries there.

She lowered her gaze, lashes casting deeper shadows in the dimness. Exiting WeChat, she tapped the unread SMS notification.

【Bai-jie, how are you?】

Bai Xin lifted her head, staring through the curtain at the whitening horizon.

Then she typed a reply.

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