Substitute Alpha Gets Confessed to by Her Ex’s Aunt on a Survival Variety Show – Chapter 185
by Little PandaWhat Even
「User liuyinxi, friendly reminder: You must achieve physical and emotional unity with the romantic character you selected in this story before you can consolidate your rewritten plot ending.」
「Congratulations on completing the special task: Rain Ceases, Favor Extends · Repentant Heart」
「Calculating your task rewards…」
「This reward (10 points, main quest completion +4%) has been archived in the system public mailbox. You may check it at any time. Character-related information updates in real time.」
「Your current main quest completion rate is 99%」
99% already?
Liu Yinxi couldn’t quite believe it.
She also couldn’t fathom why Nan Ze, after getting scolded by her, had turned around and come to help Nan Huaixu instead. Could Nan Ze be holding a grudge, waiting to become an obstacle between her and Nan Huaixu down the line?
Liu Yinxi looked perfectly composed on the surface, but secretly she was anxious over gains and losses.
The system’s rewards no longer mattered to her. She just wanted to live peacefully with Nan Huaixu from here on out.
With Nan Ze and Nan Lingxuan’s backing, the troubles at Nan Huaixu’s company were quickly resolved.
There had been many people on-site at the time. Though most employees were sensible and kept to themselves, there were always one or two with ill intentions who had filmed videos of the Nan family’s internal feud and uploaded them online. In less than an hour, the sensational bombshell of the Nan family wives’ love-hate drama had spread across the entire internet.
Netizens raced to deliver their hot takes—some cursing Zeng Mulin’s venom, some calling Nan Ze a fool, some calling Nan Huaixu a pushover, and some aching with sympathy for Nan Huaixu’s plight…
No matter what outsiders said, Liu Yinxi believed one thing: since Nan Ze had dared to cause a public scene, she had never been afraid from the start. Everything was part of her plan.
Perhaps by letting the public amplify the matter through the power of viral outrage, everyone would know, and the relevant authorities, influenced by public opinion, would launch a thorough investigation. Given the vast scope of the Nan Family enterprise, they might even pull in resources from other provinces.
By then, even if Nan Ze’s authority was still technically sidelined, Zeng Mulin wouldn’t be able to run amok anymore—and could never again use a psychiatric evaluation to lock her away in a hospital ward.
Today’s clash between two old foxes of the business world—also two wives—had come fast as a hurricane, howling through in a whirlwind. It hadn’t lasted long, but it had swept away all resistance with devastating force.
By the time midnight rolled around, the messy aftermath was finally sorted out. Nan Huaixu walked Nan Ze to the car, telling her she’d come visit in a couple of days once everything at the company was settled.
She wanted to bring her mama out of the rehabilitation center and settle her into the Nan Family Old Residence—or anywhere Nan Ze wanted to live.
The underground garage was lit with warm white light.
The driver buckled Nan Ze’s seatbelt, then walked around the hood to the driver’s seat.
Nan Huaixu lifted her hand from the car window, took two steps back, and waved with a smile. “Goodbye, Mama. Let me know when you get there.”
Liu Yinxi hung her head behind Nan Huaixu, barely daring to breathe, terrified of accidentally meeting eyes with Manman’s mama.
She wasn’t afraid of Nan Ze. She was afraid of Nan Huaixu.
If Manman found out how she’d cursed Nan Ze out, she might just lose her bed privileges.
Nan Ze nodded once, then her gaze suddenly skipped past her younger daughter and landed on the quiet Liu Yinxi behind her. “Isn’t the little firecracker going to say goodbye?”
Liu Yinxi: “?”
Who’s a firecracker?
Nan Huaixu looked equally baffled, staring at her mother in confusion.
Liu Yinxi gave a start—surely Nan Ze wasn’t calling her that…
She looked up to see Nan Ze’s eyes curved in a smile, lips hooked. “Look at you, frightened.”
Liu Yinxi hastily pasted on a grin and waved. “Goodbye, Aunt Nan.”
Nan Ze: “No need to be so formal. You can keep calling me old fogey.”
Liu Yinxi: “.”
Nan Huaixu frowned at Liu Yinxi: “?”
Nan Ze: “Every other point you made, I accept. But one was wrong—there were no pear blossoms and crabapples. That was my grandniece who just came back from studying abroad.”
Liu Yinxi: “.”
Nan Huaixu was completely unable to make heads or tails of it. She asked Nan Ze, “Mama, what are you two talking about? Xiao Jia is back in the country?”
The weather was hot, and the underground garage was stuffy and far from cool. Liu Yinxi’s back was drenched in sweat. She nodded awkwardly, repeated her goodbye, and hoped this whole thing would end as quickly as possible.
“Bye now. You two head back. If you need anything, find your sister. I still prefer my peace and quiet.” Nan Ze, of course, wasn’t about to hold Liu Yinxi’s impertinence against her.
She had come here to solve problems for her younger daughter, not to create new ones.
A little firecracker with a fiery temper was fine—as long as she could protect her daughter.
The car window rolled up inch by inch.
Nan Huaixu followed the slowly departing car a couple of steps forward. “Prefer your peace and quiet? I think you just don’t like playing with your kids. Mama, I’ve been an adult for a long time.”
Nan Ze palmed the medicine box she had just pulled from her bag and laughed at her daughter through the window. “That’s right—I’ll take a proper look at you another time. It’s late. Don’t you two have intimate things to talk about on your way home?”
Nan Huaixu stopped in her tracks, thin-skinned as ever in front of her mother. “I got it. Goodbye. Get some rest yourself.”
The window closed. The black mirror-like surface reflected Nan Huaixu’s faintly dark-circled eyes.
Since returning from the survival competition, she had been buried in work without a single day of proper rest—and then Zeng Mulin had thrown obstacles in her path. Now the biggest problem was finally resolved, but countless lingering details still needed handling. Just thinking about it made her want to collapse.
Nan Huaixu watched her mother’s car recede into the distance. The taut string inside her loosened involuntarily. She sighed softly, her steps growing slightly unsteady.
Liu Yinxi stepped forward to steady her. “Manman, let’s go home.”
Nan Huaixu murmured a quiet assent.
Liu Yinxi drove. Nan Huaixu sat in the passenger seat.
The air conditioning was cranked high. Liu Yinxi draped a blanket over Nan Huaixu’s knees, but a moment later Nan Huaixu said she felt hot and pushed it off.
It was late at night. The suburban roads were nearly empty, and Liu Yinxi had a smooth, pleasant drive.
Nan Huaixu tilted her head against the window. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to find my mama?”
Liu Yinxi told her the truth: “Because I wasn’t sure I could actually persuade Aunt Nan to change. After all, she hadn’t stepped forward for you in twenty or thirty years.”
“Then what gave you the idea to go find her? I didn’t even know she was that seriously ill. I thought she simply didn’t care about me.”
Liu Yinxi gripped the steering wheel, her eyes darkening for a moment. “Because of a chat with Doudou a few days ago.”
Nan Huaixu was surprised. “Doudou?”
“Mm. That day when President Ling’s family came over to make cake, Doudou and I talked a lot. She said her grandmother had also told her it’s okay to express your thoughts to President Ling. When you keep your feelings to yourself and the other person keeps theirs to themselves, both sides get bogged down in their own perspectives, and the distance between your hearts just grows wider and wider.”
—When Grandmother realized this problem, it was already too late. I didn’t even know where to begin to get closer to your aunt.
Liu Yinxi recalled these words that Doudou had relayed from her grandmother.
She repeated them to Nan Huaixu word for word: “That sentence was the reason I bet that Aunt Nan still loves you.”
Nan Huaixu let out a long sigh, gazing out the window in prolonged silence.
Thinking back carefully, many things from childhood made sense now. Mama sometimes said harsh things, but she had only been describing objective facts—like saying her nail art wasn’t pretty, or her grades had slipped, or she’d gotten her clothes filthy playing in the mud. She had never escalated into emotional outbursts.
The one who had always “interpreted” Mama’s intentions for her had been Mami.
Mami would say: Your mama has never thought much of us. We’re the ones who came later. You were already a step below your sister, so no matter what—whether in life or in studies—you have to work harder. Manman, for Mami’s sake, make something of yourself.
What Nan Huaixu didn’t know was that when Nan Ze had asked Zeng Mulin to wipe off her daughter’s nail polish, it was because she worried the coating materials were unsafe and could harm a child’s health. If she liked nails, they could buy safe press-on ones instead.
Nan Ze, busy with work and battling illness, was often irritable and prone to fits of rage. She didn’t dare stay home constantly to supervise her child’s studies, afraid she might lose control and hurl a glass at the child’s feet. So when she occasionally noticed her daughter’s grades slipping, she would ask her wife and teachers whether Manman was having some trouble at school.
When Nan Ze saw her little daughter had dirtied her clothes playing in the mud, she bought her many new outfits—and space sand. She told Zeng Mulin to let their daughter play with space sand with other children; it was cleaner, without the bugs and bacteria in mud.
Perhaps Nan Huaixu would never know these details, lost to time.
But that was all right.
From now on, Mama could tell her in person.
It was very late by the time they got home.
Nan Huaixu had fallen asleep in the car. Liu Yinxi parked, opened the passenger door, and carried her inside and upstairs.
Liu Yinxi moved with great care, but as they crossed the threshold, Nan Huaixu woke.
She yawned, wrapping her arms around Liu Yinxi’s neck, her voice husky. “Run me a hot bath, please.”
Liu Yinxi set her down on the sofa first and cracked open a bottle of Nan Huaixu’s favorite rose soda. “Your voice sounds so dry. Drink some water first.”
“Mm… gulp…”
Nan Huaixu took several long, satisfying gulps, then pressed the cold bottle against her cheek. She felt warm all over today.
Liu Yinxi changed into loungewear in the entryway closet, washed her hands, and asked, “You still want to soak in the tub when you’re this exhausted? You look so sleepy. How about a quick wash and straight to bed?”
If this were right after she’d transmigrated into the book and first met Nan Huaixu, she never would have suggested that. In her mind, big stars were always pristine, fragrant, and gorgeous—how could they possibly skip a bath and sleep covered in sweat?
But she and Nan Huaixu were partners who had survived three months in the wilderness together. They’d squeezed in beside each other through far worse filth and grime. This was nothing.
Nan Huaixu collected herself for a moment. “I want a bath. It’ll feel refreshing. I’m just so tired—that’s exactly why I want to relax my muscles.”
Liu Yinxi understood. “Okay, I’ll run the water. Play on your phone for a bit, but don’t fall asleep like last time.”
“I won’t.”
Nan Huaixu yawned again, batted her lashes, and opened her phone to check her social feed.
A message from Nan Ze had arrived twenty minutes ago: I’m here.
Nan Ze: The little firecracker seems physically fit. Keep up the good work. Ask Mama if there’s anything you don’t know how to do.
Nan Huaixu’s CPU spun for a moment before she replied: Mama, what am I supposed to ask you?
Nan Ze took two minutes to reply: If you don’t want one anytime soon, there’s a good contraceptive pill.
“…” Nan Huaixu covered her face and shut off the phone.
What even.
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