Acting as the Vicious Second Lead [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 6

In the summer night, the insects chirped softly as a cool breeze brushed past. The air was fresh, laced with a faint, delicate fragrance.

In City B, Gardenia Road was famous. When the trees bloomed, a gentle gust of wind would turn the scene into a rolling sea of white petals, as vast and magnificent as snowy waves crashing against the shore. Strolling through it, taking in the scenery while inhaling that soul-refreshing scent, was a true delight. Consequently, during the day, one would often see children climbing the trees while their parents or elderly grandparents watched from below.

However, because Gardenia Road was quite a distance from the residential areas—remote and secluded—most people were currently either at home eating dinner or enjoying the shade on their own porches. Rarely did anyone choose to come here for the scenery at this hour. Thus, the road was deserted and quite chilly.

Suddenly, a clamor arose. Several black cars drove slowly into view.

Inside those cars were Qin Xiaoxiao and her group. They had just finished their filming for the day and, after finishing their boxed lunches, the actors were being driven to the hotel to rest.

Regarding that boxed lunch, however, Qin Xiaoxiao had picked at it with her chopsticks, only eating two bites in the end.

This was despite the director having personally overseen the dinner prep. Thanks to the presence of a “Top Traffic Star” like Qu Li, he was terrified of slighting her. As a result, tonight’s meal was incredibly lavish. The rice was fluffy, and the side dishes included a perfect balance of meat and vegetables. The greens were crisp and delicious, and the diced meat was fragrant and tender—enough to make anyone’s mouth water.

Taking a bite of all three together, the sweetness of the grain, the richness of the meat, and the freshness of the vegetables danced upon the tongue. The flavors were intense but not greasy, achieving a marvelous balance. Chewing the rice grains coated in meat sauce brought a profound sense of satisfaction.

Everyone was quite pleased with the meal—everyone, of course, except Qin Xiaoxiao.

When the staff came to clear the leftovers, her lunchbox was almost untouched. According to the frugal director’s orders, leftovers could not be wasted; they were to be handed over to nearby farms for processing. After all, a series takes about five months to film. In the long run, selling the leftovers was a source of income. “Even a mosquito’s leg is still meat,” as the saying goes.

Qin Xiaoxiao, meanwhile, felt a physical ache in her heart.

It’s really not that I don’t want to eat, or that I’m being picky on purpose…

As a veteran foodie, Qin Xiaoxiao knew deep down that wasting food was shameful. But no matter what else collapsed, her “Character Persona” could not. Due to the requirements of the plot, she had to throw her attitude in their faces.

She had to protest with arrogant disdain: Why should I eat the same swill as these commoners? And you think you can dismiss me with only three side dishes? Are you looking down on me?

Finally, she had slammed her chopsticks down in anger, vividly demonstrating to everyone…

—Not only am I toxic, I’m also a total drama queen.

Sure enough, after her “performance,” everyone’s expressions turned ugly. The atmosphere turned cold. The minor actors looked displeased but didn’t dare speak up, their gazes toward Qin Xiaoxiao turning icy.

The female lead, Xiang Liwei, was the same. She lowered her head, her pursed lips trembling slightly. As a “commoner” herself, she seemed just as provoked by Qin Xiaoxiao’s comments as the others.

Little did anyone know, her bowed head was merely a cover to hide the fact that her cheeks were flushing red with excitement while facing Qin Xiaoxiao.

In short, everywhere she looked, Qin Xiaoxiao saw expressions of hostility.

Except for… Qu Li.

Her smile remained as gentle as ever. Qu Li looked at her as if she were watching a prideful pufferfish—one poke and she’d puff up, all huffy and bloated. It was quite amusing.

Thus, Qin Xiaoxiao was lost in confusion.

Why doesn’t she hate me? Why is she looking at me like that? Why is she smiling at me?

She could even read a sense of “doting” in Qu Li’s eyes that was almost suffocating. Unlike the others, this Top Traffic Star showed no signs of fear or disgust, standing out from the crowd like a crane among chickens.

Despite this, Qin Xiaoxiao remained convinced that the other woman was simply hiding it well. Qu Li was likely a “thousand-year-old fox”—someone whose true feelings never reached the surface, but who actually loathed her just as much as the others. After all, anyone who actually liked a tyrannical persona like hers would have to have very “heavy” tastes.

Although Qin Xiaoxiao didn’t know Qu Li well, the woman didn’t look like someone with eccentric tastes. Furthermore, Qin Xiaoxiao had already offended her. Just that afternoon, Qu Li had walked in on her “oppressing” the newcomer…

The scenery flew past the car window, and bits of cool air whistled through the cracks. The glass reflected Qin Xiaoxiao’s complicated expression.

Whenever she thought about that incident, her mood became subtle. To think she had been caught in the act of humiliating the female lead in secret—she had been too careless!

Fortunately, after stumbling upon them, Qu Li hadn’t said much and had simply run away in a panic. Qin Xiaoxiao hypothesized that the star just didn’t want to get involved in trouble, which was why she hadn’t stepped in to stop the bullying.

Completely oblivious to the fact that it was her overly intimate posture with the female lead that had caused Qu Li’s “wonderful” misunderstanding, Qin Xiaoxiao sighed to herself.

As expected, a famous star isn’t some simple, innocent lamp.

In front of others, she appeared gentle—everyone’s considerate, shining idol. But behind the scenes, she was cold and detached, unmoved even when seeing someone else being bullied.

Click.

The sound of the car stopping pulled Qin Xiaoxiao back to reality. They had arrived at the hotel entrance. On the other side, the cars carrying the other actors were arriving one after another. Qin Xiaoxiao opened the door and stepped out.

A dense crowd of people stood ahead, with the director standing straight at the very front. Normally, including the leads, a production would require three to four hundred actors. But by visual estimation, there were only about forty people present.

This staggering difference wasn’t actually because the crew was stingy or hired too few people; rather, the script had very few episodes, and the world-building was inherently small-scale. The characters appearing were the same few people over and over. According to the producer: “We aim for ‘short, small, and powerful’—pure and unpretentious. We shall be a clear stream in the vast sea of bloated, watered-down dramas.”

“Everyone is here. Let’s go.”

After speaking, the director turned around and headed toward the hotel. Seeing this, everyone followed suit, keeping close behind him.

When the group entered the lobby, the young lady at the front desk immediately greeted them with a smile. “Welcome. Director Lin, the rooms you reserved are ready. Here are the room cards.”

As she spoke, she pulled out a stack of cards and keys to hand over. The director didn’t take them. He stood there, wiped away a bead of sweat, and said, “Um…”

Receptionist: “Please, go ahead.”

Director: “Do you have any extra rooms?”

“It’s like this—more people actually came than we expected, so the rooms I booked previously aren’t enough. Sigh, it was my oversight.” He spoke with a look of “wanting to cry but having no tears,” lamenting that plans could never keep up with changes.

But it was fine. He knew this place was remote and usually had no visitors. At most, the paperwork would be a bit of a hassle; surely there wouldn’t be no rooms left.

Hearing this, the receptionist replied smoothly, “Sir, we have 10 standard rooms and 1 deluxe suite remaining.”

The director did some mental math and muttered, “We’re still short by one room.”

The vacancies… weren’t enough. He scratched his head until he was nearly bald.

“I’ll just sleep in the car,” the director turned and said to the group. “The rest of you come and get your cards. Get some rest early.”

Qu Li spoke up at the right moment. “There’s no need for that. I’ll just squeeze in with someone else.”

As she spoke, she turned her gaze toward Qin Xiaoxiao, her expression meaningful.

Qin Xiaoxiao shivered.

“You want… to sleep with me?” Qin Xiaoxiao pointed at her own face and asked.

Is this a prank? Or a conspiracy? After the incident in the dressing room, Qin Xiaoxiao—who now had a complete misunderstanding of the star’s character—was highly suspicious. In short, she felt that being sought out by this woman was nothing good.

“That won’t do!”

Before Qu Li could answer, Xiang Liwei suddenly spoke up, interrupting the conversation between the two. The girl wore a look of righteous self-sacrifice, like a pure “Little White Flower” without a shred of selfishness, wholeheartedly thinking of others.

She said, “We can’t mistreat you like that. It’s better if I squeeze in with someone else.”

With that, she also turned her head and looked at Qin Xiaoxiao.

The air solidified. Qin Xiaoxiao had become the center of attention for the entire room.

On the outside, Qin Xiaoxiao appeared calm. But in reality, she was panicking. In her heart, ten thousand “Grass Mud Horses” (Alpacas) were stampeding past—

WTF!

What kind of magical development is this?

Why does everyone I’ve offended want to sleep with me?