After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine - Chapter 34.1

“Director Lin really likes Chi Yang, huh? She’s the only actress she’s ever openly praised, right?”

“What do you know? I heard… Director Lin and Chi Yang might’ve dated.”

“What?! No way—Director Lin’s almost ten years older than her.”

“Shh, I’m just telling you what I heard. One time, Director Lin got drunk and said, ‘I’ve waited so many years, and you finally starred in my film.’ It just so happened to be right after the casting for Mountains and Seas was finalized.”

“That could’ve been about someone else.”

“Apparently, she said Chi. Who else could that be but Chi Yang? And she said before that Chi Yang is the closest to her ideal lead.

If she’s willing to say ‘the closest,’ that’s basically the same as saying, ‘This role was made for you.’”

“Hmm… you might have a point. And tonight, Chi Yang and Director Lin are…”

“Still, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this here. What if someone hears?”

“Relax. The whole hotel’s been booked by the crew—no outsiders.”

The two gossips left together, disappearing into a nearby room.

Pei Jiuyao stood frozen in the shadows for a long moment.

When she turned to head inside, she spotted Qiao Lu leaning casually against the wall, wearing a mocking smile, her eyes full of scrutiny.

Pei Jiuyao’s voice was cold. “Did you put them up to saying that?”

“Hey now, that wasn’t me. Don’t dump every bit of dirty water on my head,” Qiao Lu said.

Pei Jiuyao swiped her card to open the door.

Qiao Lu chuckled lowly. “You don’t believe it? That rumor was all over the internet once, before someone quietly scrubbed it from the feeds.”

“And,” Qiao Lu stepped closer, lowering her voice, “I’ll tell you a secret—on the inside of Director Lin’s ring finger, there’s a string of letters tattooed: chiyang.”

“If you don’t believe me, see for yourself. But she never takes off that ring. I only caught it by accident.”

Standing in the doorway, Pei Jiuyao’s grip on the frame tightened, fingers pressing against the metal edge.

She asked flatly, “And telling me this—what’s in it for you?”

“Nothing. Just thought you’d want to know.” Qiao Lu replied.

Pei Jiuyao slammed the door so hard the frame rattled.

A sharp sting pulsed through her fingertips. She glanced down—somehow, she’d cut her finger, and blood was beading and dripping like a broken string of pearls.

She pinched the wound lightly; the red quickly bloomed, and a faint trace of her pheromones mixed into the air.

She pressed again, forcing more blood out.

Only when she realized what she was doing did her dim eyes clear. Quickly, she grabbed a tissue to wipe the blood away, then scrubbed at the smudges on the white tile.

Lying back on the bed, Qiao Lu’s words replayed in her mind like scenes from a film.

If Lin Leyi really had chiyang tattooed on her finger… what would that even prove?

At most, it’d mean Lin Leyi had a crush on Chi Yang.

And after all, Chi Yang had surely dated before.

When they signed the agreement, she hadn’t hesitated.

—Back then, she’d even disliked Pei Jiuyao, yet still agreed to live with her for pheromone compatibility.

She’d never seemed like someone who suppressed desire.

Having an ex-girlfriend… wasn’t that perfectly normal?

Her relationship with Pei Jiuyao was, from the start, a transaction.

And Pei Jiuyao? Even though she kept reminding herself it was just a deal—even though she wanted to return to her original world—she still couldn’t control herself.

Couldn’t control the urge to avoid reality. Couldn’t stop herself from tossing the so-called mission aside.

Hearing the words “Lin Leyi and Chi Yang dated” made her chest tighten abruptly.

It was like when she’d first arrived in this world—under the influence of pheromones—feeling as if Chi Yang had been taken away.

Now, without pheromones, she still felt lost and restless. Her thoughts churned into a bitter mess.

Unease tangled with a flicker of panic—like a lit cigarette burning a hole in her chest, and when the cold wind rushed in, it chilled her heart to ice. Yet her throat carried the acrid aftertaste of something scorched.

She was uncomfortable everywhere.

On impulse, she pulled out her phone and searched Chi Yang and Lin Leyi’s names together—most of what popped up were news bits about Chi Yang and Song Mo.

Right. In the original novel, Song Mo had been Chi Yang’s fiancée.

She clicked in, only to find a handful of photos of them suspected to be heading home for a meal together—never any engagement announcement.

That rumor was like a decoy, keeping the truth hidden underwater.

She set the phone aside, flopped onto the bed, and winced when her arm throbbed.

Rolling over, she knocked twice on 7023’s interface.

“My arm—was that your doing?”

There was a pause before the cold, emotionless mechanical voice replied:

[Host, it’s best not to let your target know your true identity. It won’t do either of you any good.]

Pei Jiuyao gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Could it really be any worse than now?”

[This isn’t your world. ‘Pei Jiuyao’s’ original persona is already badly OOC. If the plot collapses any further, I can’t control the consequences.]

Can’t control the consequences, but you sure know how to control me.

She snorted softly, yanking the blanket over herself in sulky silence.

Then, a thought struck her. “Hey, 7023,” she murmured.

“That disobedient host you mentioned before… she’s not from this world, is she? You sent me here because she failed her target?”

[Mm. Though, I’ll admit… I made some mistakes back then.]

Pei Jiuyao wasn’t in the mood to hear a system wax poetic about its tragic past. She cut in, “Who was she?”

[That’s classified.]

“Lin Leyi?”

[No.] The system sounded resigned.

So it wasn’t Lin Leyi after all.

Pei Jiuyao let out a quiet sigh—her excuse shot down so fast.

“Then… Wen Li?” she guessed.

After all, even Chi Yang had never suspected Pei Jiuyao’s true nature—at first, she’d simply thought she was pretending.

Only Wen Li and Lin Leyi had ever suspected she’d been “swapped.”

[No.] Another disappointing answer.

“Then she—”

[Maybe she’s not even on the same route as you.]

Apparently annoyed at being interrupted earlier, the system decided to return the favor by cutting her off mid-sentence.

“Oh,” Pei Jiuyao said coolly. “You can leave now.”

And she promptly kicked the system out of her head.

No way was she going to be polite to the thing that kept electrocuting her.

________________________________________

The next morning, she woke with two dark circles under her eyes, hair a tangled mess.

When Jiang Tian came in carrying breakfast, she stopped short. “Jie, you didn’t sleep well?”

“Is it that obvious?” Pei Jiuyao replied.

Jiang Tian nodded. “Is it a hangover? But I thought you didn’t drink last night.”

Chi Yang had said Pei Jiuyao’s stomach was weak, so she’d helped push away all her drinks—ended up drinking a lot herself instead.

Who knew if she’d still be in good shape for filming today?

After Pei Jiuyao finished washing up, Jiang Tian had already laid out breakfast—steamed soup dumplings and soy milk.

The original Pei Jiuyao’s habits were similar to her own, and Jiang Tian always seemed to find the best spots to eat. Whether it was variety shows or film shoots, she always brought back food Pei Jiuyao liked.

“Let’s eat together,” Pei Jiuyao said, sitting down and idly flipping through her script.

Jiang Tian didn’t stand on ceremony. Ever since they’d cleared the air, it had felt much easier between them.

She popped a straw into the soy milk for Pei Jiuyao and asked, “Since you’re not filming today, want to go out for a walk?”

Pei Jiuyao thought for a moment. “It’s too far from the city. And Chi Yang has a shoot today—I plan to go watch.”

Wen Li had hinted to Jiang Tian about Pei Jiuyao and Chi Yang’s relationship, and combined with what she saw every day, it was obvious they were in a low-key romance.

So when she heard Pei Jiuyao mention Chi Yang, she understood immediately.

“What about lunch? If you don’t want a boxed meal, I can go out and get something,” Jiang Tian asked.

Chi Yang was filming today, so she must have already eaten on set. After a moment’s thought, Pei Jiuyao decided she couldn’t be bothered to go back.

“I’ll just have a boxed lunch with the crew. Jiang Tian, order milk tea for everyone, find out their dietary restrictions, and have it delivered this afternoon,” Pei Jiuyao stated.

“Alright. I’ll come with you,” Jiang Tian replied.

After lunch, Pei Jiuyao and Jiang Tian headed to the set. They arrived just in time to catch a scene where the female lead and second female lead meet for the first time.

The scene was set at about one-third into the film, but since the entire plot and its central conflicts revolved around these two characters, director Lin Leyi wanted them to become familiar with each other as soon as possible.

So for their first day’s shoot, she arranged a head-to-head scene between them.

Lin Leyi insisted on filming in real locations. Even the props were tangible—no CGI—while the post-human physical forms were created entirely with makeup and practical effects.

Just building the set had taken over a year in pre-production.

Most costumes and creature designs were crafted using ancient, time-honored techniques, all handmade.

Within the set, pavilions, towers, and palatial halls stood roof to roof, glazed tiles gleaming beneath ornate eaves—grand and majestic.

Simply stepping onto the set was breathtaking, like walking straight into a living, breathing fantasy realm.

Pei Jiuyao greeted the director and crew, then stood quietly to the side.

When Lin Leyi saw her, she beckoned her over. Pei Jiuyao took a seat beside her.

“Here to see Chi Yang?” Lin Leyi asked.

Pei Jiuyao replied modestly, “Just here to learn.”

Lin Leyi gave a short “Mm,” and turned her eyes to the monitor.

“Look here. Chi Yang’s grasp of the word ‘confrontation’ goes beyond the surface. At this moment, Ji Leng already has the intention of recruiting Jiang Wang—this clash is just a test. She’s a predator, entirely in control.

Sheng Xia’s performance is good too, but in this face-off, she’s clearly going to be outshone by Chi Yang.”

On camera, Chi Yang’s robes billowed dramatically, her cold, severe expression laced with the faintest, almost imperceptible smile. Her brown eyes held a dangerous, enchanting allure.

As Pei Jiuyao listened, her gaze was drawn to the rhythmic tapping of Lin Leyi’s fingers on the table.

Sure enough, the woman wore a simple silver band on her ring finger. Beneath it peeked the curve of black ink—part of a tattoo.

“Cut!”

The voice over the walkie-talkie snapped Pei Jiuyao back to the present.

Chi Yang and Sheng Xia approached. Lin Leyi pointed to the monitor.

“Xia, your eyes were off when you swung your sword just now. Jiang Wang, in that moment, is captivated by Ji Leng, then immediately realizes how ridiculous it is to be distracted by beauty in the middle of a battlefield. She should go from shame to fury. You, on the other hand? Your pink bubbles were practically spilling off the screen!”

It was Pei Jiuyao’s first time seeing Lin Leyi scold an actor. She didn’t shout, but her tone was sharp and uncompromising.

Pei Jiuyao discreetly shifted her chair a little to the side. Chi Yang stood next to her, watching the monitor, resting her hand casually on Pei Jiuyao’s shoulder—her palm warm, her touch unhurried.

She met Pei Jiuyao’s eyes and smiled for just a fleeting moment.

Lin Leyi finished giving notes, only to start reprimanding again.

Chi Yang interrupted her with a smile. “Director Lin, let’s do another take.”

Lin Leyi quickly reined in her expression and gave a curt, serious, “Reset. Scene three, take two.”

Pei Jiuyao felt a strange discomfort watching Chi Yang smile at Lin Leyi. The director was unusually patient with her.

She recalled Qiao Lu’s words from the night before, and her gaze instinctively drifted toward that ring.

Once the clapboard went down for “Scene three, take two,” Pei Jiuyao couldn’t help asking, “Director Lin, are you married?”

Lin Leyi froze mid-motion, her fingers pausing on the monitor controls before slowly drawing back.

“Focus on the scene, less gossip.”

“Sorry.” Pei Jiuyao rubbed her nose awkwardly.

Still… how could someone just take off their wedding ring?

While she was lost in thought, a sudden shout from the set jolted her.

In an instant, the place was in chaos. Lin Leyi dropped her walkie-talkie and stood.

Pei Jiuyao rose and followed the commotion, catching the anxious voice of a crew member: “Chi Yang, are you hurt?”

She quickly pushed through the crowd. Ye Ci was holding a plain white T-shirt against Chi Yang’s leg.

“What happened?” Lin Leyi hurried over.

Sheng Xia looked on the verge of tears. “I—I accidentally bumped into Miss Chi and she hit her leg.”

“Get the medic here!”

Pei Jiuyao stepped in, guiding Chi Yang away and pushing back the people around her.

“Chi Yang, are you alright?” she asked, using her name without thinking in her rush.

“I can just bandage it myself,” Chi Yang told Lin Leyi. “Director Lin, no need to trouble anyone. Ye Ci can handle it.”

Ye Ci stayed crouched, holding the T-shirt firmly over Chi Yang’s leg, not letting anyone else see.

“Miss Pei, could you help me over there?”

The formal “Miss Pei” made Pei Jiuyao’s hands still for a beat—reminding her how abrupt she’d been earlier.