Becoming the Comfort Alpha for the Aloof Movie Queen - Chapter 39

“Lust is a knife overhead.”

If human gazes had weight, Liang Ruojing would have been crushed to death by now. With a flick of her wrist and a light smile, Ming Tanqing had tossed a metaphorical bomb right into Liang Ruojing’s lap.

Boom!

Liang Ruojing was left dazed and reeling. Her mind was filled with nothing but regret. As expected, the Omega’s tone yesterday had clearly signaled her anger! Truly, beneath the face of a beauty lies the blade of an assassin.

Yet, Liang Ruojing actually felt… a bit of sweetness?

After all, a Ming Tanqing like this belonged to her alone. She was as adorable as a cat; she could ignore you whenever she pleased, but you were absolutely forbidden from giving her the cold shoulder. It was a glaring double standard, yet Liang Ruojing was more than willing to play along.

Through the fabric of her pocket, Liang Ruojing traced the contours of the pheromone neutralizing spray.

“Ew—” Tang Yuecen couldn’t even bear to look. “Liang Ruojing, that smile on your face is disgusting.” Tang Yuecen shot her a cold glare. “You still haven’t answered me. How did your things end up at Ming Tanqing’s place?”

Liang Ruojing had been preparing for days, and her mental script finally came in handy. “President Qin took me to Ke Qing’s birthday banquet before. Sister Ming helped me out of a tight spot there, and that’s how we met.”

Tang Yuecen listened and remarked casually, “A few years ago, back when she was more active, she was always known for supporting rookie actors.”

Liang Ruojing had already sensed this through Ming Tanqing’s WeChat Moments.

Tang Yuecen continued, “So, when Assistant Director Liu mentioned someone was coaching you, was that Ming Tanqing too?”

“It was her,” Liang Ruojing couldn’t help but brag slightly. “Sister Ming is incredibly patient. She’s truly a wonderful person.”

“Make sure you thank her properly later. It was a chance encounter; learn as much as you can from her.”

Tang Yuecen could never have imagined that while they might have met by chance, they were now spending every single night together. “Is that rich young lady still looking for you?”

Liang Ruojing thought for a moment before realizing she was referring to “the Omega she was treating.”

“It’s over.”

In the back seat, Huahua shook her head frantically. Over? Hardly. It’s more like a nightly festival.

Unexpectedly, Tang Yuecen had a doubt: “Is her illness cured? I looked into the doctor who sent the isolation patches before. He’s a big name—an international expert in hereditary glandular diseases named Fang Zezhi.”

Liang Ruojing caught a specific word. “Hereditary?”

Tang Yuecen replied, “Apparently, it’s a congenital glandular malformation.”

Hua Hua chimed in, “That kind of illness is very hard to treat. There are currently no documented cases of a full recovery.”

Tang Yuecen sighed, “No one has it easy.”

The urge to confess that had just started budding in Liang Ruojing’s heart was pushed back down.

Even with Tang Yuecen back, Liang Ruojing’s life didn’t change much. Tang looked after her artists, but she wasn’t the type to hover over them like a mother hen every day. Except for specific scheduled times, Liang Ruojing continued to share a bed with Ming Tanqing, dutifully serving as a human aromatherapy diffuser.

Ming Tanqing noticed that the concentration of pheromones around Liang Ruojing had increased significantly. The Alpha was releasing them intentionally.

“Liang Ruojing, what’s wrong with you?”

After the third time being kept awake by the Alpha’s restless pheromones, Ming Tanqing finally couldn’t take it and threw back the covers. The Alpha frowned, asking with concern, “Sister Ming, are you uncomfortable?”

It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable. It was that it felt too comfortable.

Ming Tanqing didn’t want to spend every day in self-gratification. Liang Ruojing’s pheromones were simply too attractive to her. After living together for a month, she had finally built up some tolerance, but if the scent became too thick, she still couldn’t withstand it. It could easily induce a heat.

“Pull them back in,” Ming Tanqing said, patting Liang Ruojing’s cheek. “Just stay the same as usual.”

In the darkness, the Omega gave off a lovely scent of lilies. Ming Tanqing still couldn’t release pheromones on her own; she still needed Liang Ruojing’s pheromones as a guide. But her condition had improved immensely. She was no longer sensitive to just anyone’s pheromones. Under the effect of the temporary mark, she only reacted to the pheromones of the Alpha who had marked her.

Liang Ruojing obediently reined herself in. As the minor episode ended, Ming Tanqing drifted back to sleep. With her back to the Alpha, she slept soundly.

Liang Ruojing stayed awake, staring at the gland on the back of the Omega’s neck. It was so beautiful and perfect. It shouldn’t be Sister Ming, she thought. After all, Dr. Fang said the chances of a cure were very high.

Three days later, Ming Tanqing finished her filming. She was only in a guest role, and her part was originally supposed to be even smaller. However, the director held her in high regard and specifically added scenes just to keep the big star on set for a few extra days.

On the day she wrapped, flower baskets arrived from everywhere, lining the street outside the Green Mountains set in a long, fragrant row. As the breeze blew, the entire Huafeng district seemed to carry the scent of spring.

Tang Yuecen helped Liang Ruojing send one as well. It featured blue hydrangeas and white roses, exquisitely styled, with an attached card: “Wishing ‘Green Mountains’ a massive box office success, congratulations to Teacher Ming Tanqing on finishing her scenes, and may you be reunited with Chairman Bo soon.”

No one knew that after nightfall, Liang Ruojing secretly added another bouquet into the sea of flowers. It was Casablanca lilies and pansies. She had promised this before.

The next day, Ming Tanqing posted on Weibo to respond to the director. In the center of her nine-photo grid, she was smiling radiantly in a group photo with the film’s creators, holding a bouquet of flowers.

Liang Ruojing had just finished a take and was slacking off on set while waiting for the lighting to be reset. She clicked on the photo. The Omega was holding the white-and-purple bouquet, her smile soft and beautiful.

It was a true moment of heart-fluttering realization. Liang Ruojing hadn’t even signed her name to it. Yet Ming Tanqing had chosen her flowers out of the entire sea, just as she had found Liang Ruojing hiding in the corner that day.

Liang Ruojing felt a belated sense of panic; Sister Ming was too good to her. This kindness was so precious it felt unrealistic. Liang Ruojing didn’t even dare reach out to grab it, fearing it would vanish like smoke. She wished Ming Tanqing would rely on her more—to give her more chances to prove herself. Even if it was just a pat on the head?

As Liang Ruojing was thinking, a notification popped up at the top of her screen.

Sister Ming: I received the flowers. Why didn’t you deliver them in person?

Liang Ruojing: I was filming. I’m just glad you like them, Sister Ming. It wouldn’t have been appropriate for me to go.

Sister Ming: Quit pretending. You placed them so far back that Sister Qi had to look for a long time.

Being called out for “pretending” made Liang Ruojing feel wronged. She had no choice but to be honest.

Liang Ruojing: Sister Ming, I’m just really happy. Truly.

The other side paused for a few seconds.

Sister Ming: I have a wrap party tomorrow night. Remember to come. I’ll tell you more tonight. Xiuzhu will give you an invitation; she’s handing them out to several people, so it won’t be too conspicuous.

The subtle sense of disappointment in Liang Ruojing’s heart was swept away instantly.

Liang Ruojing: Okay!

Just then, a sudden scent of roses burst into Liang Ruojing’s world. You Xi had arrived.

Today, Han Jiahe and Sun Ying had a scene together. After being on set for over half a month, Liang Ruojing was finally acting opposite someone other than a stunt double. Taking You Xi’s acting skills into account, they hadn’t chosen a high-emotion breakdown scene. Instead, the scene involved Han Jiahe being caught by her mentor, Sun Ying, after privately contacting a victim’s family.

The scene seemed simple, but it was a massive test of a performer’s control over micro-expressions. At this stage, Han Jiahe is defiant toward Sun Ying, but due to their status, she is forced to admit her mistake. Sun Ying sees right through Han Jiahe effortlessly. But she doesn’t care. Or rather, she enjoys Han Jiahe’s forced submission.

Sun Ying was never a one-dimensional, guiding mentor figure. Her desires were strong, cleverly wrapped beneath her stern uniform. Only those closest to her could see it. It was a complex role, and every time Liang Ruojing studied it, she was amazed by the screenwriter’s depth. Even portraying just one facet of the character would be enough to win fans.

Unfortunately—she was up against You Xi.

Liang Ruojing watched a few of You Xi’s solo scenes from the sidelines, her eyebrows miraculously syncing with Lin Xiuzhu’s as they both frowned deeper and deeper.

You Xi’s acting had indeed “improved.” Now, Liang Ruojing could actually see why someone’s acting was bad; before, she would just say it “felt weird.”

You Xi’s performance was “hollow.” Unlike Liang Ruojing’s raw greenness, You Xi’s hollowness was filled with the heavy scent of a jaded veteran. It was rigid and stiff; every expression and movement followed a pre-existing template.

Years of filming movies had become You Xi’s source material. Her anger came from one movie, her sadness from another. You Xi only needed to know which template to apply. As long as her library of templates was rich enough, she wouldn’t get caught. To an outsider, it might even look like “good acting.”

Liang Ruojing’s only evaluation of this was the word “clever.” It was highly sophisticated. Since there were no glaring errors, Lin Xiuzhu couldn’t just stop the take. After two takes, Lin Xiuzhu’s face was dark enough to drip ink.

“Liang Ruojing, get ready.”

Liang Ruojing took two deep breaths. She closed her eyes, and the dense lines appeared in her mind. What does Han Jiahe look like? What emotions would she have?

Sun Ying caught Han Jiahe outside the hospital. Without mercy, she called her out directly: “Han Jiahe, you’ve crossed the line. You aren’t the one in charge of this case. Don’t meddle in things that aren’t your business.”

Han Jiahe clenched her fists: “Your efficiency is too low! By the time you find anything, the suspect will have already—”

“Han Jiahe,” Sun Ying looked down at her, her gaze indifferent. “If I were you, I would weigh my next words carefully.”

“Heh,” Han Jiahe let out a cold laugh. “Mentor—what are you going to do to me? We are one and the same.”

It was a blatant provocation. You Xi froze for a second, missing her cue. She had failed to catch Liang Ruojing’s performance.

“Cut,” Lin Xiuzhu said expressionlessly. “Adjust your state. Next take in five minutes.”

The set became noisy again as You Xi had her assistant drape a coat over her. She actually hadn’t been able to keep up with Liang Ruojing’s acting.

The assistant director noticed too, whispering praise in Lin Xiuzhu’s ear: “Little Liang has improved so much. At her age, it’s rare to see someone portray emotions so accurately. Even You Xi couldn’t hold the scene.”

You Xi walked past, her face turning even paler. Her assistant handed her warm water: “Sister You.”

You Xi took it, and the next second, threw it back at the assistant. “It’s so cold! How am I supposed to drink this!”

Liang Ruojing heard it from a distance and silently lowered her eyelashes.

They filmed this scene for five takes. You Xi was uncharacteristically cooperative with Lin Xiuzhu’s retakes. But every time, she was overshadowed by Liang Ruojing. Lin Xiuzhu was forced to adjust the camera angles, focusing the lenses primarily on Liang Ruojing. For someone with poor acting skills, more screen time can be a form of cruelty. You Xi, having been in the industry for years, immediately saw that the shots had been adjusted, and she felt even more humiliated.

Take six.

Lin Xiuzhu watched the playback carefully and gave a helpless sigh. “Let’s move on.”

Liang Ruojing was called over by the assistant director. You Xi, meanwhile, quickly left the set, with her manager and assistant chasing after her.

As the day’s filming ended, Liang Ruojing returned to the dressing room to wait for the makeup artist to remove her makeup. She opened Weibo again, and sure enough, the trending topics were once again filled with Ming Tanqing’s name. Liang Ruojing scrolled through a few, switched to her alt account, and specifically liked all the comments under Ming Tanqing’s post that praised the beauty of the flowers. Good taste, she thought.

There was a knock on the dressing room door. Liang Ruojing didn’t look up, assuming it was the makeup artist. “Thanks for the hard work—”

“For you.”

Lin Xiuzhu was standing there, handing Liang Ruojing two cards. They were invitations to the wrap party. “The other one is for your manager.”

“Thank you, Director Lin.” Liang Ruojing stood up quickly, carefully tucking the two invitations away.

Lin Xiuzhu was always very quiet in private, and Liang Ruojing rarely interacted with her. Liang Ruojing hesitated for a few seconds before finally asking, “Director Lin, has Sister Ming’s health always been poor since she was a child?”

Lin Xiuzhu looked at her, her expression turning complex. “That is her privacy. It’s not convenient for me to disclose.”

It was the same answer as Fang Zezhi’s. Being rejected again didn’t cause any negative feelings in Liang Ruojing’s heart. Instead, the realization that the people around Sister Ming truly cared for her was comforting.

However, after Lin Xiuzhu took a few steps away, she suddenly added, “All you need to know is that her health is much better now.”

Eh?

At the same time, You Xi came out of her dressing room after changing. She happened to witness this scene and fell into thought.

Lin Xiuzhu was notoriously cold. Ke Qing had told her that Lin Xiuzhu detested socializing and never had private contact with actors. Even if there was urgent business, she would have an assistant relay the message. Why would someone like that be walking out of Liang Ruojing’s dressing room?

Could it be…