After Divorcing the Scummy Alpha Movie Queen, I Became Extremely Popular - Chapter 4

Jealousy Intensified

When she woke up, Luo Jingyun was still sleeping beside her. Her waterfall of long hair was spread across the bed, and her pearl-white skin appeared exceptionally lustrous even in the dark room. Her two hands were wrapped around Tan Jizhu’s forearm, like a lazy cat.

The room was filled with a rich scent of coconut mixed with the cold fragrance of bamboo. However, because the two had not performed the final step of a permanent mark, the two scents did not fuse together, always carrying a sense of clear demarcation.

Tan Jizhu carefully withdrew her arm, brushed the strands of hair covering Luo Jingyun’s face behind her ear, and tucked her in before getting out of bed to wash up. They had been up far too late the night before, and her head felt heavy and groggy when she first woke. But since the filming schedule had long been set, she could only force herself to pull her spirits together and prepare for work.

Coming out of the room, Tan Jizhu encountered Zhu Li in the hallway. The latter wore a gossiping expression and asked, “Jizhu, today is your and Luo Jingyun’s third wedding anniversary. Any plans for tonight?”

Tan Jizhu’s expression remained calm. “No plans.”

“No plans? Impossible! Luo Jingyun pursues a sense of ritual so much; how could she not do something with you to celebrate?”

“Actually, we’ve already celebrated.”

Zhu Li’s expression shifted from confusion to surprise. “Oh, right! Luo Jingyun would definitely celebrate right at the stroke of midnight. So, does that mean you two have already…”

“No.” Tan Jizhu pretended to fix her hair, actually doing so to hide her guilty expression.

Fortunately, Zhu Li was a Beta and couldn’t smell the rich scent of coconut on her. Before coming out, Tan Jizhu had specifically sprayed a lot of pheromone blockers to prevent anyone else from noticing.

Thinking of this, Tan Jizhu felt a twinge of regret for her loss of control last night. Not just last night, but every night she had overstepped the boundaries with Luo Jingyun in the past.

A 98% pheromone compatibility couldn’t be used as an excuse; if Tan Jizhu didn’t want it, she had countless ways to escape.

Perhaps, over these three years, she had already been moved by Luo Jingyun’s intense love.

Gazing at the ever-changing scenery outside the window, Tan Jizhu recalled the first time she met Luo Jingyun.

At that time, Luo Jingyun was dressed in a deep blue sailor suit. The finely crafted pleated skirt accentuated her shapely, slender legs. Her hair was tied into a high ponytail with a rose-pink bow, and her naturally curly strands swayed from side to side with her movements.

At that moment, Tan Jizhu felt as if she were seeing a little princess from a fairy tale.

In fact, Luo Jingyun was a little princess.

Unlike Tan Jizhu, who entered the entertainment industry to earn money, Luo Jingyun came to act purely because she was bored. The entire film project revolved around her; she was the undisputed protagonist of the crew.

Tan Jizhu originally thought that, as an extra, she would never have any intersection with the other woman. But things turned out quite unexpectedly. After a rehearsal, Luo Jingyun felt her acting was excellent and, after discussing it with the director and screenwriter, added many scenes for her.

What happened next went even further beyond Tan Jizhu’s understanding: Luo Jingyun actually said she wanted to pursue her.

Tan Jizhu had long been tempered by life; she naturally didn’t believe in the “happily ever after” stories from fairy tales. She assumed Luo Jingyun was just bored and using her as a pastime. She didn’t want to play this kind of romance game with the young miss, nor did she have the time or energy for it, so she decisively rejected Luo Jingyun.

But Luo Jingyun did not give up. Instead, she introduced her to resources and connections, and even lent a helping hand when her mother fell ill and was in desperate need of money.

This series of actions made Luo Jingyun essentially Tan Jizhu’s savior. Such a great debt of gratitude was impossible to repay; if Luo Jingyun wanted her to work like a beast of burden, she would do so willingly.

However, Luo Jingyun didn’t ask her to be a beast of burden; she wanted to marry her.

The moment she heard the news, Tan Jizhu was visibly stunned. Her original family background was poor—her Alpha father gambled, her Omega mother was in poor health—and she had shouldered the burden of supporting the family since she was young. She had never felt love for anyone.

Luo Jingyun’s conditions made her a very good marriage partner, truly one in a million. Many people around her felt either envy or jealousy. After weighing the pros and cons, she agreed to Luo Jingyun’s request. After all, what Luo Jingyun could easily bestow upon her, she could just as easily take away. Her and her mother’s lives had finally gotten on the right track; she couldn’t let it be ruined.

After the marriage, her heart held only gratitude for Luo Jingyun, without any other emotions. She thought the two of them would live a life of mutual respect, but after marriage, Luo Jingyun revealed another side of herself—an innocent cruelty.

Having never suffered since childhood, Luo Jingyun didn’t understand the meaning of all of Tan Jizhu’s hard work. Many resources that Tan Jizhu dreamed of but were out of reach could be settled by Luo Jingyun with just a meal or a limited-edition piece of jewelry.

At the same time, Luo Jingyun possessed an intense possessiveness and would drive away the friends by her side. Fortunately, Zhu Li and Deng Mei had been with her for a long time, and since those two happened to be married and were both Betas, they were able to stay by her side.

This feeling of being monitored in real-time made Tan Jizhu very uncomfortable, as if she wasn’t a person, but a piece of jewelry belonging solely to Luo Jingyun.

The vast gap between them, combined with Luo Jingyun’s habit of constantly getting jealous, meant that Tan Jizhu had never permanently marked her during these three years. She worried that Luo Jingyun would become even more dependent on her after a permanent mark, and she also worried that she herself would be influenced by pheromones and make irrational decisions.

However, over these three years, the kindness Luo Jingyun showed her and the benefits she brought were substantial. Tan Jizhu would never deny Luo Jingyun’s contribution to her current achievements.

Perhaps, she could try to be not so cold. If she could give Luo Jingyun more security, the other woman wouldn’t fly into such jealous rages. Just like yesterday—Luo Jingyun didn’t get jealous, nor did she ask for an explanation.

On the occasion of their third anniversary, Tan Jizhu felt she should make some changes for Luo Jingyun.

…

Arriving at the set and changing her clothes, Tan Jizhu prepared for the day’s scenes. Today, most of her scenes were still with Sun Kexin, but she waited for a long time without seeing any sign of her.

Just as she was wondering, the director came over and called out to her.

“Jizhu, there’s something I need to tell you. We’ve had a change in the cast. Starting today, the actor playing opposite you has been replaced by that one.” The director pointed to a person, who nodded slightly to Tan Jizhu from a distance.

Confused, Tan Jizhu asked, “Director, which role is she playing?”

“The role Sun Kexin was playing before; it’s been handed over to her now.” The director flipped through the call sheet. “The scenes Sun Kexin filmed before also have to be completely deleted. Fortunately, she was just an extra, so there weren’t many scenes. It just means we might have to take up an extra day of your time later to reshoot some scenes where the two of you appear together.”

Tan Jizhu waited for the director to finish and asked, “Everything was fine, why was Sun Kexin dismissed?”

The director blinked. “Eh, didn’t Jingyun tell you?”

“Luo Jingyun? What does this have to do with her?”

The director scratched his head. “Uh, actually, it doesn’t have much to do with her.”

Tan Jizhu was getting angry and pressed, “Exactly why was Sun Kexin dismissed?”

The director spoke vaguely. “Oh, it’s just because of some… financial matters. This kind of thing isn’t easy to talk about openly. Anyway, keeping her wouldn’t be good for our crew. In short, it’ll just cost you an extra day later; nothing else will change.”

Having said that, the director left to begin preparations for the day’s shoot with the other staff.

Tan Jizhu sat back in her chair. Zhu Li appeared beside her at the right moment and asked, “Hey, Jizhu, what’s wrong? What did the director call you over for just now? Was it to add scenes for you?”

Tan Jizhu thought about the director’s words, answering somewhat absently, “It wasn’t to add scenes.”

“No added scenes? That’s strange. I thought Luo Jingyun went to see the director yesterday to add scenes for you and give you more opportunities to shine.”

Catching the key point in those words, Tan Jizhu pressed, “What? Luo Jingyun went to see the director yesterday?”

“Ah, yeah. You seemed to be rehearsing with another actor at the time.” Zhu Li patted her chest, seemingly still having lingering fears. “I was worried at the time that Luo Jingyun would make a scene when she saw you, but fortunately she’s matured and didn’t get very jealous. Later, when she was sleeping against me, she didn’t try to dig for information from me either.”

Tan Jizhu instantly connected all the threads. It was definitely because Luo Jingyun felt she and Sun Kexin were getting too close and felt jealous, so she used her family’s connections to pressure the director with money to have the crew fire Sun Kexin.

That was why the director didn’t give her a clear answer, saying it involved money and was something that couldn’t be brought to the surface. The crew had been bought off by Luo Jingyun to fire a bit-part actor. If this got out, the entire crew’s reputation would be ruined.

Having previously experienced being a last-minute replacement herself, Tan Jizhu felt a shared sense of injustice; a fire seemed to be burning in her heart. In the eyes of those wealthy people, those without power or influence simply had no human rights; they were merely objects to be moved around at will.

Just a few hours ago, she had naively thought Luo Jingyun would fix this bad habit, but in reality, she only intensified it.

As a professional actor, Tan Jizhu did not vent her anger on her colleagues; she successfully completed the day’s filming. Returning to the hotel, the cloud and bamboo decorations and banners in the room were still untouched. Tan Jizhu tried her best to restrain herself from arguing with Luo Jingyun, but Luo Jingyun took the initiative to ask.

“Jizhu, did your crew change actors today?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s good then.”

The young miss’s whim had cut short someone’s career, and in the end, all that remained was “That’s good then.”

Tan Jizhu couldn’t help but draw a connection: if Luo Jingyun hadn’t taken a liking to her but to someone else instead, would she have taken away opportunities belonging to her without her knowing, just to please that person?

Conversely, how many innocent people had Luo Jingyun unintentionally hurt for her sake?

Luo Jingyun was unaware of the turmoil in Tan Jizhu’s heart. She walked over with a smile and asked, “By the way, Jizhu, my mom’s asked a couple of days ago when we’d have time to go home and have dinner together.”

Tan Jizhu asked back coldly, “When do you plan on going back?”

Luo Jingyun didn’t expect Tan Jizhu to agree so readily this time. With joy on her face, she said, “I’m fine with whenever, of course. It mainly depends on your schedule.”

The corners of Tan Jizhu’s mouth curled into a mocking smile. “Does my opinion matter?”

The happy mood didn’t last long. Luo Jingyun didn’t know why Tan Jizhu said this. “Jizhu, what do you mean by that?”

“Luo Jingyun, do you think everyone in the world has to act according to your arrangements? And if they resist you, you’ll use your family’s influence to make them yield?”

Luo Jingyun frowned. She didn’t know why Tan Jizhu was fine last night, yet had become like this upon returning today. The banner on the wall hadn’t been taken down yet; the words “Third Anniversary” hung there brightly, as if celebrating, yet also as if mocking Luo Jingyun’s careful preparations.

“What is wrong with you? You start losing your temper the moment you get back?”

Tan Jizhu did not intend to mention Sun Kexin’s name. Luo Jingyun had fired the person out of jealousy; if she mentioned it again, she feared it would only add more burden to Sun Kexin.

“This film is almost finished. There will be a few days of rest in between. As for which day I’m free, discuss it with Sister Zhu Li.”

Having said that, Tan Jizhu walked toward the other bedroom and locked the door, no longer communicating with Luo Jingyun.

Luo Jingyun had a young miss’s temper to begin with, and being scolded so inexplicably made her feel very bad. She wanted to go knock on Tan Jizhu’s door and ask her what exactly was wrong.

When she walked to the door, the bamboo decorations beside her caught her eye, and Luo Jingyun suddenly calmed down. Tan Jizhu was as tough and unyielding as bamboo; if she pushed too hard, it would surely backfire.

Luo Jingyun backed away and sat on the sofa to message Zhu Li to confirm Tan Jizhu’s schedule. After sending the message, she waited for nearly ten minutes before the other party sent a reply. Although the wait was long, at least she had a time.

After sending the specific time to Jiang Xian, Luo Jingyun looked at the room she had decorated once more. The words “Third Anniversary” felt like several needles stabbing into her heart.

Forget it. Once Tan Jizhu won the Best Actress award at the Houtu Awards, everything would get better.