A Scummy Alpha and An Award-Winning Omega Actress Fell in Love After an Arranged Marriage - Chapter 38
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- A Scummy Alpha and An Award-Winning Omega Actress Fell in Love After an Arranged Marriage
- Chapter 38 - Shameless, I Want You
Would someone with shame say such a thing?
Sheng Lan had even cheesier lines waiting for her.
Like “Shameless, I want you.”
It was the kind of line that would instantly make Lu Xueyin bristle, so Sheng Lan carefully selected a meme to send her.
【Mountain Wind】: Cat biting butt.jpg
Lu Xueyin was probably too stunned to speak. After two seconds of “typing,” the conversation ended in silence.
Just like their initial trip to the show, a car came to pick them up early in the morning after the break.
Over the past few days, Sheng Lan had been packing sporadically, only adding one last item, a bottle of vitamins.
She tossed the “special medicine for ineffective alphas” into the medical kit and pretentiously brought along a bottle of vitamin C instead.
As usual, Liang Jiao came to fetch her in the morning. At 8 a.m., Danxia’s official Weibo would announce the short-term endorsement for their “Beauty Lips” series.
The ad’s post-production was already finished, and Sheng Lan needed to repost it today.
Following her usual habit, Sheng Lan would host a giveaway.
Last time, for her album, she gave away signed copies and photos. This time, the standard would be the full “Beauty Lips” color set 99 winners.
Liang Jiao warned her to be prepared: “Fans might request signed photos of you two together.”
This was all Sheng Lan’s doing spoiling fans with choices during giveaways. And Lu Xueyin would likely agree.
In the entertainment industry, everyone knows each other’s attitude toward fans.
Lu Xueyin was the aloof type, rarely interacting with fans. But she was also the practical kind, often taking offhand fan comments seriously, fulfilling them privately, then “submitting homework” on Weibo.
Even in showbiz, sincerity begets sincerity, which was why she had so many die-hard fans.
Reasonable requests? Lu Xueyin would comply.
Sheng Lan asked, “Are her fans making the same demand? Or is it just the CP fans?”
Liang Jiao: “Both, probably. Since there’s no official announcement yet, most are just hyping it up saying what they’d want if it were you two. Better to be prepared.”
Their CP fanbase blurred the line between real and fake.
Influenced by Sheng Lan, their chatter was half-truths. Plus, during their initial promotional phase, both gave it their all, dominating the buzz for the first week. With dedicated fans and the show’s large audience, even casual viewers jumped in with attitudes like, “You call this fake promotion?”
Despite no joint activities during the break, Sheng Lan’s “acting textbook unboxing video” kept hopes alive, hinting at private contact between her and Lu Xueyin.
Five days wasn’t too long, nor too short.
On the surface, it was meant to cool the hype, but in reality, the first two days saw only minor discussions about their absence overall sentiment remained high.
The next two days saw a sharp spike in engagement, mostly in discussions.
Normally, rivals would jump in to spread negativity.
For these two, the impact was minimal.
By the fifth day yesterday, the hype plummeted, including some of the infatuated live-stream viewers who had flooded their Super Topic, now unfollowing.
Without sustained promotion or other collaborative projects, this outcome was expected.
On the sixth day, as they returned to filming, interest would rebound.
People wanted to see if sparks would fly when they reunited after the break.
Danxia played the long game. Their ad’s post-production wrapped days ago, but they held off waiting for today to maximize the impact.
In Sheng Lan’s strategy for Lu Xueyin’s public engagements, the first day of broadcasting was crucial, it was better to go all out than to let fans find it dull.
These past few days had seen not only a surge in attention but also unstable emotions and ever-increasing expectations.
So today, their activity zone was set at the pool.
However, Lu Xueyin had a minor injury on her chest, making it unsuitable for her to get wet.
Thus, the activity area needed further adjustments.
As they chatted, a message from the production team arrived, the car was already here.
Sheng Lan asked Liang Jiao if there was anything else. Liang Jiao replied, “Someone’s been keeping an eye on you two. We’ve spent quite a bit these past few days buying off photos.”
Sheng Lan and Lu Xueyin had been seen coming and going together. While they were sensitive to cameras, it was hard to guard against hidden micro-lenses, so being photographed wasn’t surprising.
After roughly calculating the timeline, Sheng Lan told Liang Jiao, “No need to suppress this kind of news too hard. Let it circulate for a while.”
Liang Jiao immediately understood her meaning. “Are you planning to go public with your relationship?”
Going public would lead to a massive loss of fans.
Sheng Lan bore the label of a top-tier celebrity, which was essentially built on a persona her works were just gilding. Officially announcing a relationship would deal a heavy blow to her career.
For Lu Xueyin, a seasoned actress with solid works to her name, the impact would be much smaller. She had the credentials to stand firm.
Sheng Lan said, “It’s still early. We’ll take it slow like boiling a frog in warm water.”
Liang Jiao could handle this level of publicity just fine without further instructions.
The two of them carried their suitcases downstairs. When the van door opened, Sheng Lan spotted Lu Xueyin sitting in the back seat.
Her gaze paused briefly before turning into a smile. “Good morning, sister.”
Under the camera’s gaze, Lu Xueyin had reverted to her usual demeanor, no excessive emotions, as if the side she had shown Sheng Lan earlier was just an illusion. She was once again the ice-cold beauty.
There was no “Guess Guess” segment to film today, but since Lu Xueyin had been brought along for the ride, sharing the same car to the manor, it was likely Director Cheng’s idea for an extra surprise segment.
Once Sheng Lan settled into her seat, the host, Xiao Li, informed them, “We’d like to release a teaser trailer to build some hype.”
There was no such thing as too much buzz. In the past, even guests on five-day breaks would film little snippets. Since the two of them hadn’t done any, the production team took matters into their own hands posting it on the official account to reassure the fans.
Lu Xueyin’s presence meant she had agreed.
As long as Sheng Lan had no objections, they could start filming.
Sheng Lan sat casually, in stark contrast to Lu Xueyin’s poised elegance, truly resembling a rebellious little sister.
In a CP dynamic, if one was cold, the other had to be warm.
Sheng Lan naturally assumed the active role, intending to discuss the acting guidebook she had posted about on Weibo effectively giving fans a heads-up for their interaction, making it more acceptable.
But today, Lu Xueyin seemed inexplicably competitive. She asked Sheng Lan, “Did you make soup before leaving last night?”
It was black chicken soup, simmered in a clay pot all night. When Lu Xueyin stepped out in the morning, the rich aroma had already filled the air.
Red dates had been added for flavor, each one stewed until split open, tasting sweet and tender.
Jiang Ling had brought breakfast over, but after entering and sharing the soup with Lu Xueyin, she ended up taking the untouched meal back to share with the assistants and driver.
Sheng Lan nodded. “It’s good to have something hearty before filming starts.”
Mainly, it was to nourish Lu Xueyin.
Lu Xueyin thanked her, saying it was delicious.
Her face showed no sweet smile, her words polite and formal, yet somehow, everyone in the car could sense the closeness between them.
Compared to their earlier over-the-top interactions flirting with suggestive remarks, relying mainly on physical proximity for appeal, this kind of casual, everyday conversation felt much more subdued.
The sexual tension and allure weren’t quite enough.
They could only hope that audiences accustomed to bold flavors would still find this light dish palatable.
Sheng Lan leaned lazily against the back of her chair, tilting her head to look at her. “I also made some congee. Did you see it? I added century eggs and shredded pork, it’s century egg and pork congee. There are other side dishes too.”
Having lived independently from a young age, Sheng Lan was picky about food and avoided many things, so she learned to cook for herself.
Her culinary skills had improved over time, and she worked efficiently.
The two times Lu Xueyin had entered the room last night had given Sheng Lan plenty of time to prepare.
None of the dishes required constant supervision, and after eating, washing the dishes and tidying up a bit were all that was needed before leaving.
Lu Xueyin pointed to the thermal container on the small table. “There’s century egg and pork congee, black chicken soup, and a few steamed buns.”
If Sheng Lan hadn’t eaten yet, she could have a light meal.
Sheng Lan had already eaten the breakfast Liang Jiao brought her that morning.
Since they were about to get in the car, she hadn’t eaten much to avoid motion sickness.
It was also to accommodate her usual style of dressing she liked wearing cropped T-shirts that showed off her waist. Eating too much might make her stomach bulge, which would look unflattering.
But Lu Xueyin’s gaze was sincere.
The soup had been simmered by Sheng Lan, and the congee had been cooked by her too.
But the century eggs and shredded pork had been added by Lu Xueyin so, by extension, it could be considered breakfast made by Lu Xueyin for her.
Sheng Lan: “Thank you, sister. I just happened to not have eaten yet.”
For these small, staged moments, the host would chime in depending on the situation. Several times, feeling the atmosphere was too bland, she had wanted to ask a more provocative question. But given the current mood, interrupting would have felt too forced. With no urging from the director in her earpiece either, she simply let the short interaction play out naturally.
The scene ended with Sheng Lan casually starting an impromptu eating broadcast in the early morning, while Lu Xueyin watched coolly from the side. Though she appeared indifferent, her gaze drifted toward Sheng Lan several times like someone cooking for their girlfriend for the first time, outwardly nonchalant but secretly worried about the reaction, afraid the food might not taste good.
With both of them being exceptionally good-looking, even without overt romantic tension, this slice-of-life interaction passed Director Cheng’s three rounds of review and was directly posted on the official Weibo.
Before that, the official Danxia Weibo had released an advertisement announcing the brand ambassadors.
While filming their interaction, Lu Xueyin and Sheng Lan hadn’t checked their phones in time.
Jiang Ling reposted on Lu Xueyin’s behalf, followed closely by Sheng Lan’s studio.
It wasn’t until the cameras stopped rolling that Sheng Lan, still eating, finally reposted, ten minutes later than everyone else.
The comments section was exactly as expected.
[“Can we choose the giveaway prize? Are signed photos with both of you an option? I’ll buy the lipsticks two sets, one to gift and one to keep.”]
[“I’ll buy the lipsticks. Can we get signed photos together?”]
[“Thanks, but I don’t need the money, I just need something sweet. I’ll buy the lipsticks myself; just give me some sugar /grateful/heart”]
After that, the official Weibo for Trial Love posted a short video tagging both of them.
The comments quickly took a turn.
[“Was the food your sister made really that good? You forgot to post updates, do you have any idea how long we’ve been waiting?”]
[“You simmered the soup and cooked the congee yourself, why are you acting like you’ve never seen good food before?”]
[“Your sister personally brought it over for you did that make it taste even better?”]
After finishing her social media duties, Lu Xueyin leaned back in her chair to rest, not bothering with her phone.
Since they had never worked together before, Sheng Lan wanted to confirm Lu Xueyin’s stance on signed photos, just to be safe.
She handed her phone to Lu Xueyin. “Take a look at these.”
But all Lu Xueyin saw was the top comment: [“That’s the soup Sheng Lan simmered last night, do you think they stayed together? /dog”]
Pursing her lips, Lu Xueyin glanced sideways at Sheng Lan.
Sheng Lan said, “Jiao Jiao mentioned that some fans have been asking for signed photos lately. Did Jiang Ling say anything to you about it?”
Lu Xueyin withdrew her gaze and scrolled down with her fingertips, noticing quite a few comments requesting signed photos.
She took out her phone from her bag and logged into Weibo.
Her verified main account was managed by Jiang Ling, while the one on her phone was a Smurf account.
Most people, upon seeing a Smurf account, would maintain an unspoken understanding and pretend not to notice, as industry insiders’ Smurf accounts were usually kept private to avoid exposure.
But Lu Xueyin had no such reservations.
She used the account which neither liked, reposted, nor commented, serving solely to browse news generously, entering her own Weibo comment section before handing the phone to Sheng Lan, just as Sheng Lan had done earlier.
“See for yourself.”
Her comment section was also harmonious, with fans already selecting photos.
The set from the ad campaign was shot in an old neighborhood, and after post-processing, the overall aesthetic exuded a sense of decadence.
Both of them had striking looks and great figures, embodying an “old lovers” trope with palpable chemistry every frame was wallpaper-worthy. The comments were already sorted by likes.
The top-liked post featured the “sofa kiss” scene, where they didn’t actually kiss but conveyed more intensity than if they had.
Sheng Lan instinctively frowned.
In her view, Lu Xueyin’s solo fanbase was overwhelmingly large. While they might tolerate the CP marketing given Lu Xueyin’s numerous pairings they wouldn’t stand for it being flaunted so blatantly in front of them.
Had the fans gotten too immersed after just a few days of promotion?
Or was it because, in the original story, after Lu Xueyin escaped her tragic fate and reunited with her destined Alpha, she received universal acclaim? Had that buff now transferred to Sheng Lan, reducing fan resistance?
With outsiders nearby, it wasn’t the time to ask.
Their conversation remained strictly professional as they discussed how many signed photos would be appropriate.
Sheng Lan preferred the number “99” for giveaways.
But signing 99 at once would be too much for their hands.
Lu Xueyin was pragmatic. “It’s fine. Sign twenty a day, and you’ll finish in five days.”
Staggering the releases could also prolong the campaign’s hype.
The brand had truly been too generous.