Transmigrating into a Scumbag Alpha, a Dainty Omega is Pregnant with My Child - Chapter 36

The next day, on the travel bus, Jiang Cha fell asleep leaning into the crook of Xiao Yun’s arm. Her makeup-free face looked soft and “milky,” her breathing was shallow, and her forehead rubbed restlessly against Xiao Yun’s arm as she slept.

Xiao Yun had stayed up all night thinking but still couldn’t figure it out: why did the “little ancestor” refuse to collaborate with Beike Pharmaceuticals? She made a bold guess—perhaps because she had changed some of the plot points, Jiang Cha’s choices were changing too, and the future was heading in a better direction?

Xiao Yun’s eyes sparkled with hope.

A light rain began to fall as the bus drove onto a rugged mountain road. The vehicle jolted incessantly, causing Jiang Cha to whimper a couple of times. Her fair, tender hand lightly gripped Xiao Yun’s fingers, and her mouth made a small smacking sound.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Xiao Yun whispered, shielding Jiang Cha’s face and gently patting her shoulder as if coaxing a child. Looking at her face now, Xiao Yun felt she wasn’t so scary anymore.

Her happiness lasted only a moment before a massive crack of thunder roared through the sky as if refuting her theory. Heavy rain poured down for twenty minutes. The bus came to a halt halfway, and the driver looked at the road and shouted: “Oh no! There’s a landslide up ahead. We can’t go any further.”

In the torrential rain and the landslide, the bus was blocked in the middle of the road. Liao Yanyan, who hadn’t predicted the weather turn, decided to lead the group on foot. There was a small dirt path commonly used by local villagers; walking it would take about an hour.

No one wanted to stay cooped up in the bus, so they all put on transparent raincoats and boots and set off under umbrellas. However, the rainy path was slippery, and weeds grew wildly along the mountain trail, making walking extremely difficult.

After less than half an hour, some people began to lose their patience.

Xia Yueyao: “How much longer until we arrive?”

Dami & Xiaomi: “It’s so slippery and dangerous!”

Even the Alphas, who had slightly better physical stamina, began to worry.

“Director, the rain seems to be getting heavier.”

Liao Yanyan knew. She had already told the photographers to stop filming and hide their gear under their raincoats. Since they were halfway there, turning back wasn’t an option. “Everyone, hang in there! It’s half an hour back or half an hour forward. There’s no telling how long it’ll take for that road to be cleared.”

In truth, she was right. It could take four or five hours to clear a landslide for a bus.

Xiao Yun didn’t complain. She was mostly worried about the “delicate and soft” Omega, Jiang Cha. Jiang Cha was naturally fragile-looking, yet Xiao Yun saw the small figure trudging forward through the rain. Surprisingly, Jiang Cha didn’t utter a single word of complaint. As an idol, she was used to hardship; one doesn’t reach the level of “Heavenly Queen” by being afraid of hard work.

Actually, in some ways, Jiang Cha was very similar to her. Back then, when Xiao Yun finished her exams and got into clinical surgery, she didn’t know it was a “trap”—studying from dawn to dusk, and then working surgeries from dawn to dusk. It wasn’t just the hours; the pressure was immense, and medical disputes were common.

Thinking about it, she had survived because of her family’s support. She could go home and just “lie flat.” Regarding family, she was much luckier than Jiang Cha.

The rain intensified. A small pavilion for seeking shelter appeared ahead. Liao Yanyan’s voice rang out: “Everyone, hurry! Let’s take shelter in the pavilion until the rain lets up.”

The moment the director shouted “Hurry,” people got anxious. In heavy rain, rushing leads to accidents. As luck would have it, Xia Yueyao tripped and fell flat on her face. Fortunately, she only got her raincoat dirty and wasn’t hurt. The mud where she fell was soft and wet; stepping on it again would be incredibly slick.

Just as Jiang Cha was about to step there, Xiao Yun called out: “Jiangjiang!”

Jiang Cha turned her head, but she didn’t stop her pace. What Xiao Yun feared happened—Jiang Cha’s body began to fall backward due to an irresistible force. Xiao Yun was quick, taking two swift steps forward and pulling Jiang Cha into her arms.

Jiang Cha crashed against her, her eyes staring at Xiao Yun in panic. The raindrops on the umbrella sounded like a symphony, and the water falling from the ribs created a beautiful curtain of pearls, isolating the two of them in their own world.

“Careful, the road is slippery.” Xiao Yun let go of her wrist, her breath coming out as a faint mist.

Jiang Cha pursed her lips. Once she came to her senses, she felt a sharp pain in her ankle. Her brow furrowed slightly.

“What is it?” Xiao Yun looked her up and down.

“I think I sprained my ankle.” Jiang Cha was in too much pain to move. “I can’t lift my leg.”

Xiao Yun immediately turned around and semi-crouched. “I’ll carry you over.”

Unable to bear the pain, Jiang Cha followed “Doctor Xiao’s” instructions, reaching out to wrap her arms around Xiao Yun and pressing her body against her back. The Beta hoisted her up effortlessly. It was strange; in almost every way, Xiao Yun’s demeanor was that of an Alpha, yet her body was a Beta’s.

Jiang Cha couldn’t help but ask: “Yunyun.”

The rain pattered against the umbrella. Though she spoke softly, Xiao Yun heard her and tilted her head slightly. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“It’s okay.” Jiang Cha took a deep breath. Seeing that the crew was far ahead, she asked curiously: “Yesterday, when you were joking, you didn’t blush at all.”

“Joking?” Xiao Yun paused. “Which joke?”

“The part where you said you had marked many Omegas,” Jiang Cha whispered, biting her lower lip.

“Ah, hahaha! Well, I couldn’t exactly say I’m a Beta and incapable of marking anyone, right?” Xiao Yun loved to laugh things off, and Jiang Cha had grown used to it.

“Then, as a Beta, are you… like that Beta couple yesterday?” She spoke vaguely, too embarrassed to be explicit. Thinking of the “type” Xiao Yun supposedly liked made her feel uneasy; it was first surprising, then hard to accept.

Xiao Yun’s footsteps paused. “Are you asking about… that aspect? Sex?”

“Mm-hm.”

Xiao Yun tilted her head. “Jiangjiang, what are you imagining? I told you I don’t like being dominated. I don’t like being underneath.” She explained hurriedly, her cheeks flushing red as if trying to hide something. Jiang Cha smiled knowingly.

Xiao Yun seemed to fall into deep thought. She continued walking and sighed. “Actually, I was lying to you that day.”

The rain began to subside.

“With my stature, how could I possibly like someone powerful and aggressive? Are we supposed to have a wrestling match?”

Water gathered at the edge of the umbrella, forming a single drop that fell slowly, landing on Xiao Yun’s moving raincoat. The sound was pleasant—just like what Xiao Yun had just said.

Jiang Cha’s body stiffened, and her breathing slowed. The clean air after the rain felt like a cool stream flowing through her.

“Why did you lie to me?” Jiang Cha asked after a moment.

“I was joking, but you took it seriously. What, were you going to set me up with someone?” Xiao Yun teased.

Jiang Cha realized she couldn’t win the argument, so she ignored her, simply tightening her arms around Xiao Yun’s neck and leaning her head closer.

They reached the pavilion. The other couples were busy shaking off their raincoats and didn’t realize Jiang Cha was hurt. After Xiao Yun helped her sit down, she gently helped her out of the raincoat. “The rain should stop soon. Let me see your foot.”

“I’m fine,” Jiang Cha said. It hurt, but as long as she didn’t move, it was manageable.

“No, I have to look.” Xiao Yun ignored her protest and pulled the raincoat off her shoulders, revealing her collarbone and skin dampened by the rain. For some reason, having her clothes “removed” by someone felt incredibly intimate to Jiang Cha. Xiao Yun, however, was focused solely on the injury.

“Spread your legs.” Xiao Yun’s hand rested on her knee—it was a command phrased as a request. “It won’t hurt.”

Jiang Cha bit her lip and complied. Xiao Yun’s hand slid from the knee to the calf, the fabric of the pants rustling. Even through the cloth, Jiang Cha could feel the warm strength of her fingers. Xiao Yun gripped the edge of her rain boot and slowly pulled it off.

“Nn…” Jiang Cha let out a soft groan. To remove the boot, she had to straighten her right leg, which caused significant pain. She tried to hold it in, but her face contorted.

“Bear with me. It’s a sprain; I’ll pop it back into place.”

“It hurts.” Jiang Cha gripped the wooden bench, her nails making a scratching sound. When the boot finally came off, she let out a long breath.

“How is it?” Xiao Yun asked with concern.

“Better.”

Xiao Yun grasped the ankle with one hand and the sole of the foot with the other.

“Ah!” It tickles. Jiang Cha instinctively tried to pull back. The sensation on the sole of her foot made her want to laugh. But Xiao Yun gripped her foot firmly and began to rotate it slowly. “How’s this?”

“A bit sore.”

“Soreness is normal. It’s not a major issue.” Xiao Yun massaged her foot with an intense, serious expression. “Relax… relax… don’t be tense.”

Jiang Cha did as she was told, imagining her leg didn’t belong to her. Suddenly, Xiao Yun’s hand stopped, and she gave the ankle a swift, gentle twist!

Click.

A crisp sound echoed from the ankle. It didn’t hurt; it was just sudden. The sound attracted the others, who offered a few casual words of concern. Jiang Cha understood that their concern was just a formality; the person truly caring for her was Xiao Yun, who had been solving her problems the whole time.

The rain stopped and the sun came out. The sky was clear. Her leg was better and she could walk, but Xiao Yun, fearing a re-injury, insisted on carrying her all the way down the mountain. For over half an hour, Xiao Yun didn’t complain once, though her breathing grew heavy and sweat beaded on her forehead.

Jiang Cha reached out to wipe it. As her hand touched the sweat, Xiao Yun startled slightly. “It’s okay.”

“You remind me of my mom,” Jiang Cha said as she continued wiping.

“Huh?” Unexpectedly, Xiao Yun had become a “mother” figure.

“When I had a fever as a kid, my mom would carry me to the doctor.”

“Well, I am the doctor.”

“Exactly. That’s why I feel especially safe.”

As she spoke, she hugged Xiao Yun’s neck tighter. Xiao Yun joked that Jiang Cha might accidentally strangle her. “As doctors, patients often develop a special emotion toward us. It’s similar to your reaction.” This “special emotion” comes from a patient needing care during a crisis; in a cold hospital, the doctor’s concern can be easily mistaken for love.

Jiang Cha whispered, “Do you date patients then? When they mistake it for love?”

Xiao Yun paused. Wasn’t her relationship with her ex-girlfriend based on that? Her ex had been immobilized by period cramps on the street; Xiao Yun had helped her and bought her warm ginger tea. She was pursued ever since. They got together in a blur and ended in a blur when the ex fell in love with a different doctor who treated her headaches.

“Xiao Yun, I think you surgeons are too cold. Just like your temper—warm on the outside, but cold in your heart. You treat every patient the same. As your girlfriend, I never felt ‘special’.”

And so she left. Xiao Yun didn’t have any lingering attachments. Returning to the present, she told Jiang Cha: “No. There are so many patients every day; if I developed relationships like that, I’d be a ‘heartbreaker’ by now.”

Jiang Cha seemed satisfied with the answer and leaned her cheek against Xiao Yun’s back. In the silence, Xiao Yun wondered if she had truly become a maternal figure for Jiang Cha. While the “generational gap” was a bit hard to accept, it was a positive development. She hoped the “ancestor” would remember her “motherly” kindness and spare her life later.

They arrived at the primary school. It was Sunday, so the students were away. The teacher’s dorms were modest—no AC, only creaking electric fans—but surrounded by greenery. Xiao Yun got mosquito coils from the crew while Jiang Cha made the bed. There was only one small bed; they would have to squeeze together. That night, they slept back-to-back, but by morning, Jiang Cha had turned around, her hand on Xiao Yun’s waist and her leg draped over Xiao Yun’s.

Monday, 8:00 AM. The school’s theme song played. The melody felt strangely familiar to Xiao Yun; school songs seem to sound the same everywhere. “I want to fly to the sky and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the sun…”

Before seeing the children, Xiao Yun had thought of this world as a line of code—a glitzy, unreal illusion. But when they walked out and saw the group of children—thin, sun-darkened skin, faces smudged with dirt, unwashed clothes with frayed edges, and hands dark as if covered in ash—her perception shifted. The only bright, clean things were their curious eyes.

Xiao Yun had once been a volunteer doctor in the countryside. The children there were just like these ones: physically impoverished but with eyes full of hope. The principal was a simple Beta in his mid-forties, wearing an old shirt and slacks, even using hair gel for the occasion. He was both the principal and a teacher.

He was incredibly grateful for the 1-million-yuan donation from the crew. He explained that the money would hire more teachers, repair the classrooms, buy supplies, and build a playground.

Seeing the children so thin that their ribs protruded, Xiao Yun’s eyes grew moist. Poverty doesn’t just attack the spirit; it attacks the body first. When the principal mentioned that medical teams were unwilling to come, Xiao Yun asked: “Principal, how much money would it take to solve the food, medical, and education problems?”

The principal looked embarrassed. “Honestly, 1 million helps for a while, but for long-term development and to ensure they graduate… it’s not enough.”

Xiao Yun thought about her pocket money and said: “Principal, I’ll donate 10 million. I want this school to improve the living conditions first. As for medical and education…”

The principal’s eyes lit up. “Miss Xiao! Thank you! Miss Jiang, thank you as well!” He nearly cried.

Xiao Yun was essentially doing penance for the original host’s sins. Rumor had it that Xiao Yun was a profligate socialite with no empathy, but she had adapted to school life quickly. While others thought she was just acting for the cameras or for her family’s business, the reality was that Xiao Yun hadn’t mentioned Xiao Medical once—she just donated 10 million.

This immediately hit the hot searches.

[Netizen]: “Waaa, Xiao Yun is so kind! A super rich second-generation adapted so fast and donated so much!”

[Netizen]: “The Yun-Jiang CP is the most positive energy couple this season. I cried seeing those kids.”

Due to the heavy rain and road conditions, the crew cut the trip short, filming only the interactions and a group photo. They stayed for less than two days before the bus returned for them. Jiang Cha was patient and kind to a little girl, who took a photo with her before they left.

“Sister, thank you for teaching me to write.”

Jiang Cha hugged her. “Eat well and study hard.”

On the bus, Jiang Cha stared out the window. “You seem to like children?” Xiao Yun asked.

Jiang Cha turned back with a smile. “Actually, Yunyun, you like them more than I do. You care about their health and future. I only did small things. What moved you to do that?”

Xiao Yun recounted the “original host’s” tragic back story: losing her mother, being ignored for a stepmother and older sister, and then being sidelined for a younger sister. “I was an ignored middle child. At their age, I was lost, though I was luckier in terms of food and education. Seeing them, I saw a drive to live that I never had. I felt ashamed and just wanted to help.”

Jiang Cha looked at her with admiration and sympathy. “So you decided to change.”

“Change… and find a sense of belonging. I’ve always felt like I’m living alone.”

In the month she had been here, she realized the people weren’t code—they were real lives. She might never go back.

Suddenly, Jiang Cha leaned in and hugged her. Her forehead rested on Xiao Yun’s collarbone, the scent of roses filling the air. She patted Xiao Yun’s back gently.

“You’re not alone. You still have me.”