Acting as the Vicious Second Lead [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 3

A few days after her conversation with her manager, the production crew sent a notification: she was to be at the filming location before 2:00 PM to prepare for the shoot.

That day, after lunch, Qin Xiaoxiao set off. To stay consistent with the original host’s arrogant style and avoid “OOC” (Out of Character) behavior, she intentionally loitered around outside for a while, arriving exactly ten minutes late.

By the time she strolled in with her bag slung over her shoulder, the director’s face was already dark. He was clearly annoyed but didn’t dare scold her. After all, her family had invested 200 million yuan into the production; the producer had explicitly ordered him to give her “special care.”

Just as he was about to move past the delay, his phone rang.

“I’m going out to take a call,” the director said, glancing at the caller ID. He walked toward the door, gesturing to her. “The script for Dawn of the Nightmare is on the table. Go take a look.”

As the door closed, the man’s figure disappeared.

To Zhu Qian, who was watching from the crowd, this looked like the director had been so enraged by the tardy actress that he was about to explode, only to be interrupted by his phone. Looking at the girl’s glamorous profile, Zhu Qian felt a wave of unprovoked jealousy.

Who does she think she is? she thought. Arrogant enough to keep her eyes on the ceiling and show no respect to the director.

Zhu Qian had been in the industry for a long time and knew all the major players by heart. The girl in front of her was a fresh face—likely some low-tier nobody.

If I give her a lesson on the director’s behalf, maybe he’ll be happy enough to favor me and cast me as the second female lead in his next project?

With that plan in mind, she moved.

At that same moment, Qin Xiaoxiao looked toward the table. Sure enough, there was a stack of documents. She stepped forward, but just as she reached out—

“Clatter!”

A tall woman standing by the table—Zhu Qian—slammed the documents onto the floor. She then feigned a look of surprise and said, “Oh my, I accidentally knocked them over.”

Having said that, she tilted her chin up and looked down her nose at Qin Xiaoxiao, as if saying: I did it on purpose. What are you going to do about it?

Normally, an average person would choose to “turn a big problem into a small one” and quietly pick up the papers. Unfortunately for her, the person she was trying to bully was Qin Xiaoxiao.

As a “Vicious Female Supporting Role,” what was she least afraid of?

Stirring up trouble.

Death.

The only thing she feared was having no trouble to find and no faces to slap. Now, someone had delivered themselves to her door for a beating.

Qin Xiaoxiao met her gaze coldly and suddenly slammed her hand onto the table. The thunderous BANG startled everyone in the room. They all turned toward the two women, instantly switching into “spectator mode.”

In the crowd, a young man who had participated in the auditions with Qin Xiaoxiao the day before looked on with a different expression. He stared at Zhu Qian and offered a silent prayer for her. Others might not know, but he knew perfectly well: Yin Ni’s background was terrifyingly powerful, and her personality was spoiled and tyrannical. Most people who knew her stayed as far away as possible.

After all, she was the daughter of a business tycoon. Even famous producers had to show her three points of deference. Only someone like Zhu Qian, who didn’t follow business news and couldn’t recognize her, would be stupid enough to provoke this “Plague God” without weighing her own worth.

This wasn’t a confrontation; it was a one-sided massacre.

“Dammit, what’s wrong with you!” Zhu Qian hissed, unaware of the demon she had provoked. “Is that any way to treat a senior?”

“Punctuality, manners… didn’t your mother teach you any of that?”

“Pick up my script,” Qin Xiaoxiao ignored her insults. She glanced at her sideways, the corners of her eyes curving with a dangerous charm. Her voice carried an implicit threat: “Otherwise, I don’t mind teaching you how to be a human being.”

Zhu Qian’s face turned red with rage. To be humiliated like this in front of so many people—who did this girl think she was?

“It seems if I don’t give you a bit of ‘color’ to see, you’ll forget your own name!” Zhu Qian raised her hand, intending to slap Qin Xiaoxiao across the face.

However, the slap never landed. Qin Xiaoxiao caught her wrist in a vice-like grip. As she watched the pain bloom on the woman’s face, Qin Xiaoxiao smirked, her smile bright and wild—like a poppy, beautiful but poisonous.

“If someone gives me three points of ‘color,'” she replied, “I’ll be sure to return ten.”

“Ugh… let go…!” The pain in Zhu Qian’s wrist intensified. She tried to shake her off but couldn’t. She gritted her teeth, a weak cry escaping her. Her eyes grew red and watery, making her look like a fragile bird caught in a storm.

With a forceful twist from Qin Xiaoxiao, a final, shrill scream echoed through the room. The sound was so agonizing it made the onlookers’ scalps tingle.

Eventually, a young man stepped forward with a look of grim determination, as if walking onto a battlefield. It was Liu Ruijia.

“Forget it, it’s not a big deal,” he said. “I’ll pick it up for you.” He gathered the script and placed it on the table. “Alright… stop fighting.”

The intervention worked. “Hmph,” Qin Xiaoxiao let go.

Zhu Qian’s hand slumped weakly to her side. Her wrist was swollen and turning purple. She glared at Qin Xiaoxiao with tearful, resentful eyes.

“Senior,” Qin Xiaoxiao smirked, her voice dropping to a dangerous register.

“W-what do you want?” Zhu Qian retreated a step, her internal alarm bells ringing.

“My surname is Yin.”

Upon hearing this, Zhu Qian went silent. Who cares about your surname… she started to think, but then it clicked. Even if she didn’t follow the business world, she had seen the headlines on Weibo: Yin Shaozhuo. The man whose business empire spanned Asia, rumored to have a daughter who was notoriously domineering…

No… it can’t be. Zhu Qian shook her head, not daring to think further. Her body went limp, and she had to lean against the wooden table to keep from collapsing. The realization hit her like a physical blow. No wonder the director didn’t scold her. No wonder no one else intervened. From start to finish, she had been the only clown in the room.

“Click.”

The door opened. The director returned from his call to find a frozen room: one woman leaning despondently against a table, with a man and a woman standing nearby. The atmosphere was so thick it felt like a war had just ended.

Qin Xiaoxiao, seemingly oblivious, turned to the boy who had intervened. She realized he looked familiar. After a moment, she remembered: he was the one who had stood up to defend the female protagonist yesterday.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

He’s got a lot of screen time for an extra, she thought. Is he an important supporting character?

The boy, Liu Ruijia, looked terrified. “Liu Ruijia,” he replied, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. Oh god, why does she want my name? Is she going to go after my family? His family ran a small business; he knew what the Yin family could do to them.

Actually, Qin Xiaoxiao didn’t plan to mess with him. Instead, remembering his role in the novel, she felt a wave of pity. In these stories, there is always a “Second Male Lead” who acts as a “spare tire.” He is gentle and devoted to the female lead, but doomed to be the “brother figure.”

In the end, Liu Ruijia’s fate was quite miserable. The Movie King (Male Lead) eventually pressured his family’s business to force him out of the picture.

Thinking of this, Qin Xiaoxiao’s eyes began to search the room for the female lead, Xiang Liwei.

She wasn’t there.

Suddenly, the director muttered, “Why isn’t she here yet?” He checked his watch, his tone irritable. “She said she’d be here immediately.”

Qin Xiaoxiao realized: Oh, she’s late. Or perhaps her “vicious supporting role” act yesterday had worked too well, and the girl was too traumatized to show up? That wouldn’t do. She needed to “teach” her properly so she could get used to it.

Qin Xiaoxiao decided that as soon as the female lead arrived, she would grab her and bark: “Don’t you dare be late next time!”

Five minutes later, footsteps approached from outside.

The moment had come. Qin Xiaoxiao lunged toward the door with staggering speed. The director tried to get ahead of her to control the situation, but he was too slow.

The door cracked open, revealing a slender, feminine silhouette.

Without thinking, Qin Xiaoxiao’s hand shot out and grabbed the person by the collar.

“Well, well! You finally decided to show up? You made me wait this long? Are you tired of living—”

The words died in her throat.

It wasn’t because she felt bad about being a hypocrite; it was because she realized she had grabbed the wrong person.

The person in her grip had slightly messy curls resting against an elegant, swan-like neck. Her collarbone was framed by a cream-colored cotton top with exquisite floral embroidery. Caught in Qin Xiaoxiao’s hand, it looked like a “beautiful flower being crushed by a ruthless hand.”

The person she was holding was the Top Idol—Qu Li.

The scene was excruciatingly awkward. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The director looked like he was about to cry. Qin Xiaoxiao was stunned.

But Qu Li laughed. “Sorry, I’m late. I had an emergency to handle. In the future, I’ll ask for leave in advance.”

Her voice was soft. Even though she was being manhandled, she didn’t show a hint of anger. She simply gazed at the shocked girl in front of her with eyes so tender they could drown someone. A strange emotion flickered in her gaze, and her warmth deepened.

Can I come in now?

Qin Xiaoxiao numbly let go and lowered her head, remaining silent. To others, her silence looked like arrogance. But to Qu Li, who was closest to her, she looked like a child who had done something wrong—frustrated and self-reproaching, but too proud to speak.

Qu Li had guessed from the shift in the girl’s expression—from fury to shock—that she had mistaken her for someone else.

Who did she think I was?

Qu Li felt a twinge of… jealousy.