After Transmigrating as a Scumbag Alpha, I Marked the Crazy Hotshot – Chapter 103
by Little PandaCheng Jing X Tu Xiuxiu
You Can Be Unbridled
Spring in Copenhagen was a little late in coming.
It was the season when the crocuses were in full bloom.
When she received Cheng Jiqing’s WeChat message, Cheng Jing had just finished a meeting with a business partner that had lasted over three hours. Feeling stifled and restless, she went out and walked along the asphalt road, finding a long bench on the street.
All around were Renaissance-style buildings, their colors bright. Especially in spring, the wind was soft.
It possessed a unique flavor.
The matter of Fu Rongjun had passed two months ago, yet it was still as if every detail was right before her eyes. After all these years of struggling and clawing her way through the business world, she had never been one to look back, but now she had developed the bad habit of reminiscing.
Fortunately, her mood was stable enough that she could, by relying on her indifferent nature, pass her days in peace.
Cheng Jiqing asked if she was free for a meal tomorrow. Without much thought, she replied with a “yes.”
She sat for a while longer.
Cheng Jing fished a cigarette out of her bag. She lowered her head to light it, her slightly stiff, dark brown short hair falling gently, casting a shadow on her cool, pale cheeks.
Her exquisite red lips held the cigarette, her gaze lifting.
Pedestrians came and went endlessly, the noisy chatter mixing with white noise like a series of movie scenes.
Her gaze fell on a two-meter-wide theater poster on the other side of the street.
It was cyan-blue. On the far right of the image was the back of a woman wearing a qipao.
Her waist was slender, and peonies were embroidered on the soft blue silk brocade.
Cheng Jing exhaled a puff of smoke, her phoenix eyes narrowing slightly.
The cigarette quickly burned to its end.
After a moment of silence, she stubbed it out in the ashtray bin nearby.
She got up and walked forward.
There was still some time before nightfall, so it wasn’t the busiest time for the opera house, nor would any major performers be taking the stage at this hour.
Tu Xiuxiu, who was now a locally renowned Kunqu opera actress, was even less likely to appear.
Cheng Jing knew this.
So she hadn’t actually expected to see Tu Xiuxiu.
She had simply seen the promotional poster and was suddenly struck with the mood to listen to an opera.
Taking a seat in a corner, a waiter came over with tea and poured her a cup.
Cheng Jing didn’t spare it a glance. The tea came with the seat; she had been here twice before and it was always high-grade tea, but she didn’t like it, so she had never drunk the tea here.
“Miss, your Darjeeling black tea.”
Hearing this, Cheng Jing turned her head to look.
Before long.
The sound of the Kunqu clapper began…
Cheng Jing watched the figure gracefully walking onto the stage. She watched in silence for a few seconds, then slowly leaned her back against the wooden chair and reached out to pick up the cup of black tea.
The steam from the hot tea brushed against her face, a gentle mist suffusing her phoenix eyes.
She stared straight at the stage, then lowered her gaze and took a sip of the black tea.
《Qin Lou》 was Tu Xiuxiu’s signature piece.
The sorrow of Chu Wan1, pitiful and mournful, was sung with a raw and vivid intensity.
A strain of Jiangnan2 folk melody, at times moving and graceful, at others soft and gentle, drew one into its world, utterly enchanting.
The song ended.
A waiter came forward to refill Cheng Jing’s tea.
Cheng Jing withdrew her gaze from the stage and asked faintly, “Is all the tea here black tea?”
The waiter replied, “It depends on the customer’s request.”
Cheng Jing asked no more questions.
Suddenly, a discussion, neither loud nor soft, started up beside her.
“Really scored today, we actually got to hear 《Qin Lou》.”
“I heard some big shot came and specifically requested it, but I didn’t see them.”
“Was it that person who booked the whole venue last time?”
“Yeah, that Italian woman. Even the boss can’t afford to offend her, let alone an actress, right?”
Cheng Jing set down her teacup, her long leg crossed over her knee, as if she had heard nothing.
There was a ten-minute interval between the two performances at the theater.
Tu Xiuxiu sat backstage, staring blankly at the exquisite makeup in the mirror.
She had never thought she would see Cheng Jing today—how long had it been since the last time?
“Xiuxiu.”
The boss’s voice pulled her back from her thoughts. Tu Xiuxiu looked at him through the mirror.
The boss was a fifty-year-old man, wearing gold-rimmed eyeglasses, an American citizen. Because of his grandmother’s love for opera, he had been immersed in it since childhood, his ears soaked and his eyes dyed by it3, and began investing in opera houses after growing up.
The boss looked somewhat troubled. “I’m afraid you’ll have to perform one more time.”
Tu Xiuxiu was puzzled. “Why?”
“That person has arrived.”
“I’ve already finished singing.”
She had only come in today on short notice because of that Italian woman in the first place. The time was set; it was the customer who didn’t keep the appointment, so she couldn’t be blamed.
What sense was there in singing again?
She had no such rule here.
The boss said, “Can you see it in your heart to do one more performance, for my sake? She’s a well-known second-generation rich kid locally. Our venue has to give her some face.”
He pleaded.
Tu Xiuxiu shook her head. “Perhaps you should make that boss understand something. I am not a singer for hire.”
Everyone backstage paused slightly at her words, and the more tactful ones had already slipped out of the room.
In this theater, Tu Xiuxiu was something of an exception.
One of the few who dared to give the boss and the patrons attitude.
They didn’t know Tu Xiuxiu well. In their impression, she was more arrogant than any of them, like a green tit that had been treasured and protected for so long it couldn’t stand being slighted.
Yet that same person had a certain grit to her, as if she could endure any hardship.
In the end, the boss failed to persuade her.
His expression was troubled, but he was unwilling to offend Tu Xiuxiu, who was now the star attraction at two of his venues.
Not long after, he left.
Tu Xiuxiu’s soft fingers touched her temple. She stood up and walked to the windowsill to look at the city’s silhouette under the crimson afterglow of the setting sun.
Why had Cheng Jing come? Surely not for her.
And why had Cheng Jing come again? She had thought Cheng Jing would never come back.
Only these two questions occupied her mind.
She stood there, still in her cyan opera costume, her makeup not yet removed. Logically, she should leave.
But she didn’t.
It was as if she were dragging out the time, or perhaps waiting for someone.
Another few minutes passed. Someone came in and said the Italian woman was causing a scene at the front desk.
Tu Xiuxiu frowned, suddenly thinking that back in Beicheng, she had never encountered a situation like this.
Back then, with Cheng Jing around, no one would dare run amok in Xiu Yuan.
Tu Xiuxiu suddenly felt her heart grow heavy.
She didn’t know if the audience from the previous performance had all left.
The theater was kept at a comfortable, warm temperature. A crowd was gathered before the stage, making a racket. Tu Xiuxiu walked over slowly, her posture poised and elegant.
She truly looked like someone who had stepped out of an ancient painting.
The Italian woman was in her twenties, with long red hair and dressed in leather, a biker-style outfit.
Seeing someone approach, her attitude softened a few degrees.
But her eyes looked as if they wanted to eat a person alive, not friendly at all. She brazenly scanned Tu Xiuxiu from bottom to top.
She spoke in English, “I don’t like opera, but I’ve taken a liking to you. Have dinner with me tonight, and I can pretend this never happened.”
Tu Xiuxiu said calmly, “No one made a mistake, and I don’t like having dinner with people.”
Her coming here on short notice today was already giving more than enough face. She didn’t lack for this venue, much less this pay.
But Tu Xiuxiu also understood that, on any other day, she wouldn’t have said this so recklessly.
It was just that her dignity and that unfounded sense of face wouldn’t allow her to bow her head at this moment.
Not today.
The atmosphere instantly turned cold.
A chair was kicked over, toppling onto its side by her feet, nearly smashing her foot.
Tu Xiuxiu didn’t flinch in the slightest. She said, “I’m sorry, you can find someone else to sing.”
After speaking, she turned to leave.
A sharp pain shot through her wrist as it was seized in a fierce grip.
The touch was invasive and unfamiliar. Tu Xiuxiu’s face was cold as she struggled to break free.
“Let go!”
The boss was also trying to smooth things over, but to no avail.
“You Chinese have a saying, ‘to refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit.’4 This lady is giving you face and you’re refusing it, is that it?”
The wide sleeve of her costume slid down during the struggle, revealing a section of her snow-white arm.
Due to the excessive force, a red mark was visibly forming.
Tu Xiuxiu fought to get away, her face flushing with anger, but no one around dared to step forward and intervene. The red-haired woman watched her, growing more and more excited, letting her struggle.
Then, as if a whim struck her, she suddenly let go…
Tu Xiuxiu stumbled back a few steps, just as her arm was caught and held firmly. She smelled a faint, familiar, clean fragrance.
She looked up and saw Cheng Jing’s cold, forbidding jawline and her icy profile.
The next second, she met Cheng Jing’s deep, fathomless eyes.
“Do you remember what I told you?” It was Cheng Jing asking her.
It was a very vague sentence.
But Tu Xiuxiu immediately understood what it meant.
It was from more than three years ago.
Tu Xiuxiu could still recall every word of their conversation from that time.
That was the day she and Cheng Jing had confirmed their relationship as lovers.
She had been given a hard time by someone then, too. Back then, she didn’t have the backbone to casually stand up to people, so she was looked down on even more.
Those people had thrown money at her face, demanding she drink.
It was a mixed concoction of alcohol; one glass would be enough to knock a person unconscious.
She was being held, forced to drink it. Then, Cheng Jing appeared.
Just as suddenly as she had now.
That was the second time they had met.
Cheng Jing lit a cigarette and watched her from half a meter away, then walked over and pulled her to her side.
Without a single word.
She waited stiffly until the person trying to force her to drink spoke up: “President Cheng, is this your person?”
Cheng Jing turned her head to glance at her, the smoke puffing onto her face, carrying a hint of a cool sensation.
Cheng Jing still didn’t speak.
But her fingers had already latched onto Cheng Jing as if she were a savior. She clutched the hem of Cheng Jing’s shirt tightly. Having never experienced something like this, she was truly terrified.
Thinking back on it later, Cheng Jing had taught her so many things over the following three years.
How to face danger, how to survive, and how to be arrogant.
That day.
Cheng Jing had said to her.
“Remember, from now on, as long as I’m here, you can be unbridled.”
…
The long-lost memory washed over her, and a flicker of emotion crossed Tu Xiuxiu’s eyes. Her heavy heart, tangled with the humiliation she had just suffered, created a predicament that was difficult to describe and impossible to resolve.
She looked at Cheng Jing.
That sentence, she remembered it.
But now, what did it count for?
The phrase ‘as long as I’m here’ felt a little strange between the two of them now.
She couldn’t make sense of the situation, yet it seemed she could understand that Cheng Jing was just helping her out on a whim.
To put it bleakly, setting aside Cheng Jing’s past heartlessness towards her, Cheng Jing truly was an excellent lover: rich, powerful, and influential, with good looks, a great body, and even better technique.
Even after breaking up, she could lend a hand to an ex without a second thought.
Tu Xiuxiu’s heart, quite pathetically, began to ache.
The red-haired woman asked, “Who are you? Don’t f#cking meddle in other people’s business.”
Cheng Jing didn’t even look at the woman, but her hand had already released Tu Xiuxiu. She said faintly, “What are you looking at? Hit her back.”
Her tone was as ordinary as could be.
The red-haired woman didn’t understand Chinese, but everyone around who could understand was startled.
Including the boss.
The boss had met Cheng Jing before and only knew she was a wealthy person that Tu Xiuxiu knew. Hearing this, he was stunned. He was about to step forward to say something when he suddenly saw Tu Xiuxiu take a step forward.
Pa—
Silence, shock.
Just as the red-haired woman was about to erupt, two men in black overcoats appeared from nowhere and restrained her. The people the red-haired woman had brought with her tried to help but were also easily stopped.
Cheng Jing had a habit of bringing bodyguards.
And these two were veterans of real combat, not on the same level as ordinary bodyguards.
After slapping the woman, Tu Xiuxiu turned back, her chin slightly raised.
Since the other party wasn’t afraid of causing trouble, what did she have to be afraid of?
Tu Xiuxiu’s pink lips parted slightly, her fingertips rubbing gently inside her sleeve. She said languidly, “Does President Cheng know who she is?”
Cheng Jing glanced at the woman being dragged out. “No.”
Tu Xiuxiu said the name of a local tycoon; the red-haired woman was his only daughter.
The boss, standing nearby, also chimed in that this would cause trouble.
After listening, Cheng Jing merely glanced at the stained hem of Tu Xiuxiu’s dress at her feet. She habitually reached for the cigarette case in her coat pocket. “Then you should first ask her if she knows my name.”
Footnotes
- 楚婉 | Chǔ Wǎn | The name of the character in the opera.
- 江南 | Jiāngnán | A geographic area in China immediately to the south of the Yangtze River.
- 耳濡目染 | ěrrú mùrǎn | An idiom literally meaning “ear soaked, eye dyed.” It describes being deeply and unconsciously influenced by what one constantly sees and hears.
- 敬酒不吃吃罚酒 | jìngjiǔ bù chī chī fájiǔ | A saying that means to reject a polite offer and invite a harsh consequence instead. Literally, “to refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit.”
These two are good together too