After Becoming the Live-in Scummy Alpha, I Pamper Her with Real Strength - Chapter 19

It was a warm, sunny day—perfect weather for recording a song.

For Deep Sea Girls, a rookie girl group fresh out of debut, it was their very first opportunity to let the world hear their voices—their very first step on the long road of their idol careers.

The five girls had been chosen from a talent pool of hundreds, stepping onto the stage with dreams in their eyes. But reality hit them hard. The company had many other girl groups just as hardworking and idealistic as they were. They were not the most talented. They weren’t the most unique.

As rookies, they stumbled their way through learning what it meant to be idols.

Dance training, body management, facial expression drills—everything was stretched to the limits. Only sweat and tears gave them even the slimmest hope of being seen.

Questions like “Will we become popular?” or “When will we catch our break?” felt so far away.

What they faced immediately were more practical concerns: Do we have songs to sing? Will we even get a stage to perform on? Debuting and instantly fading into obscurity—forgotten before anyone even knew their names—was the reality they faced.

So when their manager told them the company had finally assigned them a song, the five girls were thrilled. It was the first track officially theirs: “Deep Sea.”

It’s also the song they still use to open every concert. To them, it represents where it all began.

That’s why I remember that day so vividly.

Though… not just for that reason.

When the five of us arrived at the recording studio, the staff informed us that another artist was inside finishing up a session. We’d have to wait a while.

Curious, I asked who it was—and was told it was actor Jiang.

We waited over half an hour before actor Jiang emerged. My first impression was that she was tall, striking, and handsome.

What I didn’t expect was for her to glance at me once—and then ask out of the blue:

“Would you like to date me?”

I swear, every single person present that day—my teammates included—heard that sentence. We were all stunned.

@HeSong, you can confirm this yourself.

I quickly turned her down. Teacher Jiang just wasn’t my type. But after that, she approached me a few more times, again asking if we could be in a relationship.

To be clear, she never crossed any lines, and it was always in public settings with others present—there are people who can vouch for this.

So I hope the rumors spread by that media account can finally be put to rest.

I’m sorry I didn’t speak out sooner. Part of it was my own privacy—I didn’t want this matter to get more attention. Another part was out of consideration for our fans; I didn’t want to disappoint those who love

Deep Sea Girls.

But since it’s all untrue, I have no reason to be afraid.

________________________________________

As soon as Lin Xue’s long blog post went live, the other four members of the group quickly reposted it in solidarity.

The group’s leader added her own comment, saying Lin Xue had thought long and hard before deciding to post this through her official account, and asked fans not to believe the rumors.

The move not only debunked the assault allegations—it also struck an emotional chord, winning over countless fans.

And with the idol herself speaking out in her own name, rather than using anonymous backup accounts, the credibility was indisputable. Deep Sea Girls’ fans—affectionately known as “Seaweed”—began organizing to boycott unscrupulous media outlets trying to stir trouble.

Mass reporting and blacklisting kicked into high gear.

“She’s so brave. Props to her for stepping up.”

“As a Seaweed, I’m beyond proud. What a strong and positive idol.”

“So Jiang Weiran’s a flirt, but still has boundaries?? Color me confused.”

“I mean, look at her. With that face? She doesn’t need to force anything.”

“That’s that, folks. The real story’s out. Time to end this farce.”

“I wandered into the melon field and found not one ripe melon. That tabloid? Reported. Zero fruit, all hype!”

With the narrative flipped, public attention quickly shifted—who was behind the original exposé?

Someone with such detailed knowledge of Jiang Weiran… the leak had to be an assistant or manager. Some of Jiang’s fans even tagged @HeSong, urging her to be wary of those around her.

Things were resolving faster than He Song had expected. Watching the calm, green-tinted internet landscape, she finally exhaled. If it hadn’t been for Lin Xue’s blog post, she really might’ve been unable to clear her name.

And she had Mo Qingran to thank for that—for the ex-girlfriends who came forward, and for Lin Xue. He Song was certain Mo had helped behind the scenes.

She dialed her number. The phone rang for a few seconds before being picked up.

Mo Qingran sounded tired, but there was a faint sense of relief in her voice.
“It’s done.”

He Song responded with a quiet “Mm.”

A warm current rushed through her chest. She listened in silence, tears stinging her eyes. She wasn’t new to being publicly shamed—back when she was finally gaining traction through a few TV dramas, her entire reputation had been wrecked overnight.

It was the same pattern: manufactured gossip accusing her of bullying fellow cast members on set.

The claims were vivid and detailed, allegedly from crew members. Story after story piled up, all pointing at her.

But not one person stood up to speak the truth.

Later, a director quietly confided in her—it was all orchestrated. Someone needed a scapegoat to drum up interest and farm followers.

He Song hadn’t understood. What was the point of gaining fans like that? What audiences remember are good performances, not rumors that no one can even verify.

“This won’t be the first time,” that director had told her,
“and you won’t be the first—or last—stepping stone they use.”

Back then, she didn’t have Mo Qingran behind her. Not even her agency wanted to issue a statement in her defense—she simply wasn’t one of their priorities.

So she lay low for a year, waiting for the storm to pass before slowly returning to the spotlight. Even then, the “bully” label clung to her. Only after she won awards, gained influence, and earned the trust of more supporters, was she finally able to speak her truth and rip that label off.

It was a long-overdue redemption arc.

So now, hearing Mo Qingran calmly say “It’s done,” He Song couldn’t hold back her tears.

For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel like she was fighting alone.

There was someone—aloof and introverted, yet fiercely protective—standing behind her.

At this moment, she desperately wanted to hold on to that person—forever.

Sensing something off in He Song’s voice, Mo Qingran asked, “What’s wrong? Are you still upset?”

“It’s all been traced back. The chat logs and so-called evidence that media account got—it was all handed over by Liu Fande. By the way, do you know an artist in the company named Fang Qi?”

He Song’s thoughts were drifting, so she didn’t quite catch it. “Fang Qi? Not really. Doesn’t ring a bell. What about him?”

Mo Qingran replied, “Nothing much. He’s the one who falsely accused you of assaulting Lin Xue. There weren’t many people left at the recording studio that day, so it wasn’t hard to trace. When Liu Fande was still employed, Fang Qi was one of his artists.”

He Song wiped away the tears on her cheeks. “And Lin Xue… Did you find her?”

Mo Qingran said, “No, she came forward to the company on her own. Originally, she didn’t want to post on Deep Sea Girls’ official account. I told her it was a great opportunity to gain fans.”

He Song: “And a great chance to clear my name.”

Mo Qingran said nothing in response.

“…And those ex-girlfriends?” He Song asked, a little uneasy. Part of her worried that Mo Qingran might mind… but another part worried more that she wouldn’t care at all.

Mo Qingran replied, “Did you forget? Every one of Jiang Weiran’s ex-girlfriends filed reports with the company. It wasn’t hard to find them.”

He Song couldn’t tell, even over the phone, whether Mo Qingran minded or not. She was so caught up in overthinking that she didn’t even notice the unusual shift in Mo Qingran’s tone.

“Now, it’s Director Yan’s turn.”

He Song: “…Huh?”

________________________________________

With the truth revealed, Huanyao Entertainment released a public statement saying they had identified the person behind the false accusations and would be pursuing legal action.

The official Weibo account for Fenghua Chronicle immediately reposted it with a comment:

“Please give lots of love to our leading lady Lu Li—@HeSong.”

Right after, they dropped a ten-minute extended trailer for the series.

When He Song saw the teaser, she froze for a second before clicking in.

With high production value and dramatic, battle-filled scenes, the world Fenghua Chronicle unfolded before the viewers’ eyes.

The trailer showcased highlights from the first half of the show, expertly edited to leave the audience wanting more.

Though the series was adapted from a popular novel, the visuals and atmosphere delivered in the drama more than met fans’ expectations.

Director Yan reposted the teaser too, asking everyone to support his first television project.

Yu Dongdong, He Yan, and several of the main cast followed suit with posts of their own.

The buzz was successfully redirected. As the storm of rumors died down, Fenghua Chronicle caught the eye of casual viewers.

Whether people would actually watch it was another matter—but at least they now recognized the name.

The production team even went all in and bought a trending topic: #HeSongFenghuaChronicle. It was clear they were going all out.

That night, He Song—thinking of Mo Qingran just next door—finally felt like she could sleep soundly.

But the dream she had that night was long… and vivid.

A grand ballroom, glasses clinking, heels clicking across the polished floor—the sounds were sharp and clear. Guests in formal attire, dazzling dresses and sharp suits, filled the room under dazzling lights that almost hurt her eyes.

Her consciousness hovered near the ceiling, as if she were watching the banquet from above.

Then she saw her.

Familiar yet stunning, Mo Qingran stepped through the grand entrance.

The moment she appeared, every head turned. All eyes were drawn to her.

He Song, too, couldn’t look away from Mo Qingran in her deep burgundy evening gown.

The asymmetrical hem swept up to mid-thigh on one side, hugging her waist tightly. A cut-out circle at her right side revealed a tantalizing curve of porcelain skin. She had soft curls at the ends of her hair, making her cool, aloof aura melt into something gentler—sweeter.

Wearing brown knee-high boots, she walked confidently to the stage and began welcoming the guests to the Mo Corporation’s gala.

Then He Song watched as she moved from guest to guest—conversing, laughing, negotiating. Her business finesse was on full display: persuasive, poised, razor-sharp.

This side of Mo Qingran was nothing like the one who pouted and threw little tantrums. She was commanding, magnetic. And He Song couldn’t take her eyes off her.

But halfway through the banquet, something happened.

A man, half-drunk and disheveled, stumbled over with his suit jacket off and leaned onto Mo Qingran.

Her expression immediately turned cold. Before she could step back, the man raised a full glass of pale golden champagne—

—and poured it all over her.

It spilled from her neck down across her chest and gown.

The entire room fell into dead silence.

________________________________________

Author’s note:

Author: Your girl just got harassed.

He Song: He’s done for.

He Song: Identity reveal in progress.