After Redeeming the Female Lead, I Faked My Death and Escaped - Chapter 8.2
Gu Qingzhu, now draped in a fresh coat, took a sip of hot tea. She didn’t seem to have applied any medicine, the marks on her neck had worsened, but she paid them no mind.
“What are you standing there for?” Her tone was indifferent, neither light nor heavy, echoing through the room.
The servants exchanged glances, unsure of Gu Qingzhu’s intentions.
She was the one who had barred Ying Xu from entering, made her stand outside for a while, and now was letting her in.
Had Miss Gu suddenly changed her temperament?
Ying Xu’s neck was already damp. She stared silently at Gu Qingzhu’s face, unmoving.
Finally, Gu Qingzhu frowned, giving her the first direct look of the night.
Outside, the heavy snow nearly swallowed the entire city, the blinding white reminiscent of the moment Ying Xu had pushed open the door at the film set earlier.
“What’s the matter?” Gu Qingzhu’s displeasure grew. “I haven’t even asked you for an explanation, and you expect me to invite you in?”
Her tone was calm, but her words dripped with arrogance.
As if Ying Xu had committed some unforgivable sin, Gu Qingzhu’s mere act of waiting for her to reflect was an immense act of grace.
Ying Xu shook her head, her expression restrained with hidden frustration, but in the end, she only murmured softly, “I just don’t understand why Qingzhu doesn’t trust me.”
“Trust?” Gu Qingzhu repeated the unfamiliar word, momentarily stunned.
“I waited for you for a long time,” Ying Xu said, not giving Gu Qingzhu time to dwell on it further, reciting her prepared lines carefully. “Only then did I realize you’d be busy for a while.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you, but Miss Cheng mistook me for an actor from the crew.”
Ying Xu kept it concise, omitting unnecessary details about bystanders, and clearly explained how she and Cheng Jun had come to know each other.
Her voice was pleasant, carrying a patience that made it easy to listen.
Gu Qingzhu had initially been irritated by Ying Xu’s sudden mention of “trust,” but as the woman spoke, she gradually guessed what Ying Xu was trying to convey.
“I waited for you for a long time.”
Before this, Ying Xu had never spoken to her like this.
Alphas were naturally reserved, never probing for answers, making it impossible for anyone to know what they were truly thinking.
And in the past, Gu Qingzhu had never deigned to waste more time on Ying Xu.
For Ying Xu to take the initiative like this, it was clear she was afraid of being misunderstood.
The prompt [Gu Qingzhu’s Favorability +1] chimed in her ear, and Ying Xu paused at just the right moment, shifting her tone: “So, I really don’t understand why Qingzhu”
She pressed her lips together, lowering her head in visible dejection, as if reverting to her usual reticent self in an instant.
She didn’t finish her sentence, but the silence seemed to speak volumes.
Compared to an interrogation, Ying Xu’s explanation felt more like a subdued accusation, tinged with grievance.
This display of vulnerability greatly satisfied Gu Qingzhu’s need for control. Her expression softened slightly, and after a few seconds of silence, she said, “What are you still standing there for?”
It was still a graceless remark.
But at least the matter of Cheng Jun was now behind them.
Ying Xu exhaled in relief, finally stepping into the lounge. Her boots sank into the plush carpet, leaving behind a trail of unsightly water marks.
The chill was finally dispelled by the warm air. In front of Gu Qingzhu, Ying Xu didn’t dare thank the servant who had helped her change, cautiously taking a seat across from the Omega.
After a long pause, Gu Qingzhu finally spoke. “Don’t let it happen again.”
She lifted her gaze, her striking eyes fixed on Ying Xu. The woman’s lips parted slightly as she added, “And stay away from her.”
Gu Qingzhu had said “her,” not “them.”
Ying Xu paused, recalling Sheng Qiuyu’s attitude, and guessed that “her” likely referred to Cheng Jun.
…Just what had Cheng Jun done to make even Gu Qingzhu wary of her?
She couldn’t help but feel curious. After a brief silence, she ventured softly, “Why?”
Gu Qingzhu hesitated, surprised that Ying Xu would press further.
But perhaps this was just another way for an Alpha to curry favor. Gu Qingzhu didn’t dwell on it, answering offhandedly, “She’s a liar.”
A liar?
Ying Xu was puzzled, but it was clear Gu Qingzhu wouldn’t elaborate further.
The woman’s fingers unconsciously intertwined as she closed her eyes, seemingly intending to rest for a while.
That’s just how Omega was, she might respond a bit more when in a good mood. But most of the time, she coldly observed the original host’s life, callously making their already miserable existence even worse.
For a moment, everyone’s footsteps grew noticeably lighter.
Ying Xu gazed at Gu Qingzhu’s sleeping face with a serious expression.
Judging by last night, even after such exhaustion, Gu Qingzhu had only rested for an hour before waking up, her sleep seemed unusually light.
Leaving abruptly now might just give Gu Qingzhu another reason to lash out.
Patiently maintaining a flawless expression, Ying Xu waited for ten minutes. Omega’s breathing remained steady, as if she had truly fallen asleep.
Finally reassured, Ying Xu lowered her eyes and unlocked her phone.
Since she had nothing better to do, she might as well get paid to slack off a little.
After a moment’s thought, she searched for Cheng Jun’s name on StarNet.
Compared to the endless controversies surrounding Gu Qingzhu, the entertainment gossip about Cheng Jun was far more “peaceful.”
The Alpha’s striking looks naturally drew fans, not to mention her privileged background, elite education, and the tender, devoted way she treated her supporters.
As a result, most of Cheng Jun’s fans were fiercely devoted “girlfriend fans.” Their daily routine consisted of showering Cheng Jun with affection while viciously attacking her critics, co-stars, and management utterly fanatical.
Generally, the more trouble fans stirred up, the faster a star’s career would decline. But Cheng Jun was an exception. Aside from necessary promotional buzz for her projects, she had never been embroiled in any negative scandals, as if she were born to perfectly embody her public persona.
But could anyone in this world really be that flawless?
Ying Xu recalled the way Cheng Jun sneered at people, her words sharp and merciless, as if she looked down on everyone.
That seemed to be the woman’s true nature. But because no one had exposed it, or because any leaks had been swiftly suppressed by PR, Cheng Jun’s image remained pristine.
Just before exiting, Ying Xu casually refreshed the page. The new post that popped up wasn’t from any of the accounts the original host followed, but a tabloid breaking news about a co-star publicly insulting Cheng Jun.
The moment the news broke, fans erupted.
Multiple tabloids coordinated the story simultaneously, and fans instantly swarmed the Beta actor’s profile, bombarding his posts with outrage.
Within minutes, the Beta issued a response, claiming he had already left the Redemption production team and sincerely apologized to the actors he had offended.
His statement referred to “the actors he had offended,” not Cheng Jun specifically. Fans were immediately dissatisfied with this half-hearted apology and grew even more frenzied.
But when Ying Xu saw the man’s familiar face, she instantly realized who this apology was really directed at.
The next second, a pop-up notification appeared, a text from an unknown number.
Are you satisfied with this apology?
At the same time, Gu Qingzhu opened her eyes.
There wasn’t a trace of sleepiness in them, only sharp clarity as she looked straight at Ying Xu. “By the way”
Her words cut off mid-sentence.
Gu Qingzhu’s gaze froze on the small screen.
Ying Xu knew Gu Qingzhu disliked electronic devices, so in her presence, the Alpha rarely used them, let alone openly browsed anything.
This anomaly made Gu Qingzhu suspicious.
Without hesitation, she reached for the phone
“What are you looking at?”