After Redeeming the Female Lead, I Faked My Death and Escaped - Chapter 46

Song Fei’s sudden “visit” sparked a wave of discussion within the film crew.

Her notorious feud with Gu Qingzhu was well known, and many who were unaware of the backstory assumed Song Fei was there to poach Ying Xu. The idle gossip quickly turned to speculations like, “If Ying Xu betrays Gu Qingzhu, who will replace her as the female lead?”

Then, the star network refreshed, revealing Song Fei’s public apology.

The post was brief, “explaining” two things:

The earlier video was merely a staged prank. During the gathering, despite knowing Gu Qingzhu disliked cats, someone had deliberately allowed a cat to approach her, leading to the entire fiasco.

As for the video’s release, it was also an accident. Song Fei sincerely apologized to Gu Qingzhu.

The comments section was instantly flooded with question marks.

[What kind of “accident” lets you keep a video up for so long without deleting it?]

[What do you mean “knowing she dislikes cats but letting it near her”? If you hate cockroaches, would you be okay with me throwing one in your face? Disgusting! Get lost!]

[Told you ages ago, the video was shot from a carefully planned angle to frame her. Song Fei’s brain dead fans still reported me for saying it. Truth always comes out.]

The group chat fell silent for a long moment before someone finally concluded:

So, it wasn’t about switching sides at all. She went to negotiate for Gu Qingzhu.

She’s so in love with her.

These four words were copy pasted over a hundred times in a chain until a new message suddenly popped up:

Stop spamming! Gu Qingzhu is visiting Ying Xu on set! Front-row seats to the drama!

In an instant, the group chat emptied.

Small Town.

Under the glow of the setting sun, a tall alpha idly twirled a flower between her fingers. Beside her, a little girl barely reaching her thigh followed closely, struggling to keep up before finally stretching out her hand, asking to be held.

A smile flickered in Ying Xu’s eyes as she reached out.

Behind the camera, Gu Qingzhu watched the scene silently for a few seconds before abruptly lowering her gaze.

Ying Xu had held her hand the entire way to the set. If not for a crew member recognizing them and passing by, she might not have let go.

Even now, long after they’d parted, the warmth of the woman’s palm seemed to linger on her wrist, unsettling her.

Why was she even thinking about this?

As Gu Qingzhu frowned, the scene wrapped.

Ying Xu seemed to get along well with the child actor, bending down to listen to her whisper before picking her up and walking toward Gu Qingzhu.

In that instant, Gu Qingzhu’s thoughts scattered like dust in the wind. Her brows furrowed as she glared at the child’s adorable face.

Ying Xu, at least, had some sense of propriety, stopping at a distance before speaking: “Xiao Nian says she’s your fan and wants, Qingzhu to give her an autograph.”

Xiao Nian timidly added, “Gu Qingzhu jiejie.”

Gu Qingzhu replied coldly, “No.”

Ten minutes later, Gu Qingzhu looked up.

Her gaze flickered between Ying Xu, who was discussing the script with the director in the distance, and Xiao Nian, who sat on a chair playing with blocks, sneaking cautious glances at her every few seconds.

If Ying Xu hadn’t said she only needed to watch Xiao Nian for a few minutes without having to do anything, Gu Qingzhu would have left long ago.

In truth, when the alpha had first asked, impatience had already prickled under her skin, urging her to refuse.

But when their eyes met, Ying Xu suddenly blinked, softening her tone: “Qingzhu, just for a little while, okay?”

Her tone was unusually soft, and even Gu Qingzhu, who was usually slow to pick up on such things, realized that this was an act of coquetry.

Thus, despite the standoff, Xiao Nian stayed by her side.

The distance between them wasn’t far, yet it felt as though a mountain range separated them, each keeping to their own space.

“Big sister.”

Meeting Xiao Nian’s gaze again, Gu Qingzhu found herself suddenly calmer.

“What is it?”

Xiao Nian timidly extended a hand, offering a building block. Gu Qingzhu took it in a daze, lowering her eyes to see a simple line drawing of a cat carved into it.

Her gaze froze for a moment before abruptly softening the next second.

Even if the shape was similar, the cold touch still reminded her—this was an inanimate object, utterly different from what she knew.

It didn’t matter.

But why had Xiao Nian given this to her?

Had someone told her to do so? Who?

Gu Qingzhu’s eyes turned cold as she turned her head, about to ask, only to see Xiao Nian already burying herself in placing another cat-carved block into a small heart-shaped house she had built, murmuring to herself, “This one is for Yingxu sister.”

It was only then that Gu Qingzhu noticed another cat, identical to the one in her hand, already waiting inside that little house.

The crimson clouds grew increasingly hazy until they dissolved completely into a mist of stars.

Seated on the bench, Gu Qingzhu realized at some point that the way she looked at Xiao Nian had grown more and more tranquil, almost gentle.

A change she might not have noticed herself, but one that Yingxu observed clearly.

The screen in her hand glowed faintly, the contact name displayed as Gu Qingzhu’s doctor.

After exchanging contact information some time ago, the doctor occasionally inquired about Gu Qingzhu’s condition.

A patient’s willingness to cooperate with treatment didn’t mean they were willing to be completely honest.

The body’s protective mechanisms would still conceal things they didn’t want to face, but the more they hid, the harder it became to truly heal.

When it came to the fear of cats, Gu Qingzhu’s attitude was extremely passive.

From then on, Ying xu took over the role of cooperating, rationally recounting Gu Qingzhu’s entire reaction upon seeing a cat that day from an outsider’s perspective.

The doctor had been in sporadic contact with Gu Qingzhu for six years. If not for Song Fei suddenly exposing the video, she wouldn’t have even known the omega was afraid of “cats” proof enough of Gu Qingzhu’s high level of guardedness on the matter.

No emotion arises abruptly. Gu Qingzhu’s fear of cats must stem from seeing the projection of something else in them.

Ying xu had no interest in probing the source of that fear, but public opinion still needed to be addressed.

After Song Fei’s apology, the public’s attention would inevitably shift to Gu Qingzhu. To salvage her reputation, she had to respond, perhaps by petting a cat in front of the camera, reshaping the narrative that “Gu Qingzhu is afraid of cats.”

Then, the netizens, feeling deceived, would undoubtedly turn on Song Fei en masse.

Ying xu lowered her eyes, calmly liking that apology post before walking toward Gu Qingzhu.

What she wanted was never just an apology.

According to the doctor, the treatment for phobias was either desensitization therapy or fundamentally altering one’s perception of the subject.

Ying xu simplified it in her mind. To her, cats were fragile. If Gu Qingzhu didn’t see them that way, then she would accompany her in gradually interacting with creatures that shared similar traits.

Children were one such example.

As it turned out, if her impression of children could change, so too could her perception of cats.

It wasn’t until the city lights brightened the night that Xiao Nian’s mother finally arrived, “fashionably late,” to take her home.

Before leaving, the little girl politely waved goodbye.

Gu Qingzhu opened her mouth as if to respond but ultimately closed her lips without a word.

Ying Xu had already finished work and was now accompanying her. Gu Qingzhu averted her gaze and said casually, “Then I’ll, take my leave now.”

Just as Ying Xu had once flown for hours just to spend fifteen minutes with her, Gu Qingzhu’s visit this time was also limited to a few short hours.

Ying Xu didn’t try to keep her, walking alongside her as they made their way out of the set.

Seeing that the two were finally leaving, the restless crew members could no longer hold back and eagerly asked for autographs.

Ying Xu initially wanted to decline on Gu Qingzhu’s behalf, but the omega shook her head slightly, picked up a pen, and began signing,somewhat awkwardly.

She hadn’t held a pen since being hospitalized, yet her handwriting remained elegant, drawing murmurs of admiration.

Among the crowd, there seemed to be genuine fans of Gu Qingzhu. One of them choked up and said, “Qingzhu, I knew I wasn’t wrong about you. You’re innocent it’s all Song Fei’s fault ”

For a moment, the murmurs of agreement swelled, but Gu Qingzhu’s pen suddenly paused. Realizing something, she instinctively looked up at the alpha beside her.

All she met was a faint, resigned smile.

In the airport lounge, Gu Qingzhu scrolled through Song Fei’s public apology on her phone.

Her expression remained indifferent, as if she were reading something utterly trivial.

But Ying Xu had long noticed her occasional mis-swipes. Relaxing, she listened to Assistant Lu’s incessant chatter: “Today, several brands that had previously terminated their contracts wanted to work with Qingzhu again, but I turned them all down.”

“A good horse doesn’t turn back to graze! Especially not Qingzhu ”

Ying Xu nodded. “Cannibalism isn’t good.”

For a split second, even Gu Qingzhu’s scrolling fingers froze.

Assistant Lu let out an awkward laugh. “That joke was… kind of funny. Just a little ”

Gu Qingzhu spoke up. “If bamboo and grass are the same species, I’ll contact Luo Zhu and have her strengthen your cultural education.”

But the alpha before her showed no embarrassment at being corrected. Instead, she beamed brightly. “Of course not.”

“I just wanted Qingzhu to pay attention to me,” Ying Xu admitted without pretense, not leaving Gu Qingzhu to guess. “Ever since you found out about this, you haven’t said a word.”

“I thought you might be upset.”

Gu Qingzhu’s fingers twitched imperceptibly before she turned off the screen.

Upset? How could she possibly be upset over Song Fei’s apology?

Dealing with Song Fei had always been part of Gu Qingzhu’s plans. But until now, her schedule had been packed, leaving no room to dwell on it.

Yet here was Ying Xu an alpha who had helped her, worrying whether she was angry.

Was Ying Xu really this insecure? Couldn’t she tell?

Gu Qingzhu parted her lips to retort but answered the question herself in the next second.

Of course it wasn’t because Ying Xu was too dense to read emotions.

It was because she cared about her. Because she liked her. That was why she was overthinking, why she was nervous about her reaction no matter what she did.

A sudden, indescribable dryness tightened in Gu Qingzhu’s throat.

Her teeth grazed her lower lip, but before she could formulate a response, Ying Xu murmured softly, “Don’t bite. It’ll hurt.”

Long ago, Ying Xu had noticed, Gu Qingzhu had always been hurting herself.

She would leave marks on her neck, then cover them with a silk scarf. She treated others like sinners and was even harsher on herself. It was as if she were a person without attachments or feelings, only realizing she was still alive when she felt “pain.”

But after Gu Qingzhu realized that besides herself, “Xu Ying” was also in such a state, she suddenly began to change.

Even when she felt pain and wanted to vent, she only left bloodless scratches on her arms or bit her lips, unlike before when she would bite until they bled and deepened the wounds without restraint.

Unconsciously, she learned to restrain herself, simply because she didn’t want others to worry about her.

This was something Xu Ying only recently realized. And because of these things, she began to think more deeply.

The original work was only half-finished, with no clear ending for any character. But it was easy to imagine that, given Xu Ying’s silence, she couldn’t possibly save someone as stubborn as Gu Qingzhu.

The only ending Gu Qingzhu could have was death.

But after the omega’s death, what about Xu Ying? What should her ending be?

Xu Ying finally understood that the deliberately vague identity and status of the original character in the story weren’t because she was insignificant. On the contrary, it was precisely because she was important enough to appear beside the female lead, becoming an uncherished stand-in lover.

What did the people behind it want? What were they after?

Her thoughts drifted.

Until Gu Qingzhu spoke: “I’m not angry, don’t overthink it. Focus on filming, just”

She only got one word out before skipping the rest of the concern. Clearly, she wasn’t used to such warmth.

Seeing Xu Ying nod, Gu Qingzhu finally stood up: “As long as you understand.”

Outside the window, the night was fading it was time. Gu Qingzhu rose, intending to have Xu Ying leave, but the alpha had already followed her like a conscious shadow.

After a few seconds of silence, that shadow lightly brushed against Gu Qingzhu’s wrist.

Gu Qingzhu froze, lowering her gaze. The hand that had held hers just hours ago was now resting atop hers. Fingertips lightly pressed against her knuckles, sending shivers through her.

“Next time… will you still come to visit me on set?”

Gu Qingzhu didn’t look at her face because she already knew what kind of gaze Xu Ying would have tender, warm, smiling.

In the end, all Gu Qingzhu left behind was a hurried “Depends on your performance.”

That night, Gu Qingzhu’s long-dormant social media account posted again.

The post was similarly brief, another response, but it didn’t mention Song Fei at all. Instead, it was an apology directed solely at Xu Ying.

The post quickly surpassed 100,000 reposts. The comments were a mix of outrage and adoration, but the only repost with a heart emoji came from Xu Ying herself.

No matter how public opinion swirled or whether people were willing to accept these twists, Xu Ying had become the center of attention, chased by major brands.

On the day The Fall wrapped filming, Xu Ying’s first solo magazine cover was released. The brand stocked 200,000 copies, and under purchase limits, they sold out in ten minutes.

Congratulatory messages flooded her screen, mostly from the The Fall cast.

Xu Ying skimmed through them, then opened her chat with Gu Qingzhu. Before she could type anything, an incoming call interrupted her.

Seeing the familiar name, a flicker of surprise passed through Xu Ying’s eyes.

Cheng Jun.

Progress is being made, but since I’m not in great form today, I’ll just update this much (this is the update for the 24th). I’ll write more tonight. Thank you, everyone!

Shoutout to the super amazing new book by Xianxian!

“The Villainess Rescue Guide [Quick Transmigration]” by Li Diao Xian (ID: 7352582)

Synopsis:

After her death, Lu Xi coincidentally binds with a system tasked with saving villainesses from their dark paths. To revive, she must prevent these female antagonists from turning evil and guide them toward redemption.

• • • • World 1: Nine-Tailed Fox
        The villainess, a nine-tailed fox, was originally the fiancée of a heavenly deity. But on her wedding day, she was betrayed by her own kin and imprisoned in the fox clan’s forbidden grounds. In the end, she could only watch as her cousin donned the crimson bridal robes and ascended to the heavens.

Before the villainess could have her heart’s blood drained to nourish the deity’s new wife, Lu Xi rescued her in time.

Gazing at the disheveled fox girl, her eyes brimming with resentment, Lu Xi patted her fluffy head.
“There are many ways to take revenge.”
“Mutual destruction is the dumbest one.”

Noticing the faint confusion in the villainess’s eyes, Lu Xi extended her hand.
“I happen to be free lately. How about I help you?”

• • • • World 2: ABO
        At the engagement banquet, the male lead ran off hand-in-hand with his true love in front of all the guests, leaving the pitiful omega villainess to endure everyone’s ridicule.

Seated among the guests, Lu Xi watched the flustered villainess on stage, recalling her tragic fate of losing everything. She shook her head.

As the murmurs grew louder, Lu Xi stepped onto the stage and offered her hand.
“How about. getting engaged to me instead?”

• • • • World 3: Emperor × Consort
        The villainess, a noble consort, was actually a spy, planted in the palace by the Prince of Huainan to seduce the emperor.

As the emperor, Lu Xi played along with all her seduction attempts while quietly thwarting the prince’s schemes.

But when Lu Xi remained healthy and unswayed, far from becoming a tyrant and the villainess still hadn’t conceived, the prince grew impatient. He sent her multiple urgent orders.

When the villainess received the prince’s letter demanding she get pregnant immediately, along with a mysterious man sent to “assist” her, her despair, grief, and helplessness erupted…

That was when Lu Xi arrived.

After detaining the intruder, Lu Xi looked at the trembling villainess, her eyes filled with hatred, and sighed softly. She pulled up the quilt, covering the woman’s exposed arms completely.

“I won’t kill you.”

Under the villainess’s stunned gaze, Lu Xi’s voice remained steady.
“Instead of plotting for the throne with him… why not join forces with me?”

The villainess froze in terror, lips parting as if to speak but no words came out.

Lu Xi smiled.
“After all, the throne is already mine. With me, your odds are better, aren’t they?”

• • • • World 4: Award-Winning Actress × Rising Star
        “Heartbeat Match” was an explosively popular dating show. As a triple-crown actress, Lu Xi was originally paired with an award-winning actor. But the audience was stunned when she showed unusual attention to a certain rising starlet instead!

When the starlet sweated from chores, her partner barely pulled out a tissue before Lu Xi wiped her face with her own hand.

When the starlet nearly fell while picking fruit from a tree, her partner reached out only for Lu Xi to swoop in and catch her first.

When the rising starlet and her partner failed their mission and had to stay in a terrifying haunted house, the gentle and soft-spoken Best Actress took the starlet’s hand and led her into her own room, leaving the partner dumbfounded and grinding his teeth in frustration.

In every world, the supporting female character is the same person.