I Topped the Aloof Omega in a Scummy Alpha Novel - Chapter 45

The Feeling of Liking

“The milk tea is here!” Xuan yuchi carried two cardboard boxes by herself, a bag also dangling from her fingers.

Assistant Park: “Give us ours first, please.”

Xuan yuchi handed her the bag, and Assistant Park smiled and thanked her.

The other artists’ assistants also came up to collect their drinks.

Producer Gao stayed in Bian Yunchen’s room, chatting with her for a while.

“Is that young girl your new assistant?” Producer Gao asked.

Bian Yunchen had a gentle smile on her face, and the way she looked at Xuan yuchi was like looking at her own younger sister: “She’s a friend’s daughter. I brought her along to gain some experience. If you don’t mind, Producer Gao, why don’t you let her help you out?”

Producer Gao looked surprised. She had known Bian Yunchen for years and knew she was an aloof and distant person; she had never heard of Bian Yunchen asking anyone for a favor.

“Since you’ve asked, I’ll let her start as a Production Assistant for now.”

In an ordinary film crew, this position is usually equivalent to running errands and doing odd jobs, but in a crew of this caliber, it could also be a low-ranking position with great potential—whether one makes it depends entirely on their own perception and ability to learn.

Bian Yunchen: “Then… thank you, Producer Gao.”

Xuan yuchi messaged Assistant Liu, asking her to come get the coffee she had bought specially for Bian Yunchen.

After delivering the last cup of milk tea, Assistant Park called Xuan yuchi over to Li Qinger’s room.

Li Qinger was putting on makeup in front of the mirror, the blush brush sweeping lightly across her cheeks, creating two faint spots of red.

She didn’t spare a glance for the sound of the newcomers.

“The perfume on the table is for you.”

Xuan yuchi recognized the brand.

It was a Guerlain limited edition, in the classic Bee bottle, tinged with a light green—a single bottle cost six or seven thousand.

Xuan yuchi looked at Assistant Park.

Even if someone was wealthy, they wouldn’t be this extravagant toward a stranger, would they?

There were plenty of rich people who were stingy.

Moreover, she had only done them a small favor.

Li Qinger screwed open her lipstick: “Why are you standing there? Don’t you think it’s enough?”

Xuan yuchi: “No, no, no, it’s plenty.”

She didn’t decline and accepted the bottle of perfume.

For someone like Li Qinger, if you refuse her goodwill, she might think you look down on her or have ulterior motives.

As Xuan yuchi went out, she sprayed a little on her wrist. She didn’t have a refined sense of perfume appreciation—she was the type of person who’d be a tiger eating a rose—and she inhaled the scent of lily of the valley.

But some people have a highly developed sense of smell.

Assistant Liu used to be a perfume personal shopper and exclaimed in surprise: “Where is that Guerlain perfume scent coming from?”

Xuan yuchi paused with her hand in her backpack, just as she made eye contact with Bian Yunchen.

Assistant Liu was quick-witted: “I saw Assistant Park call you in just now, so that’s what it was for. What is Li Qinger thinking, sending you such expensive perfume? Is she trying to spend money to win over the people around Sister Yunchen?”

When Xuan yuchi’s family was still well-off, she had received countless gifts more expensive than this. She found it amusing that a few thousand yuan worth of perfume could buy loyalty.

She took the perfume out again, stretched her arm, and offered it to Assistant Liu: “Why don’t I give it to you? I actually don’t lack this kind of thing.”

Assistant Liu shook her head repeatedly, expressing her loyalty.

Bian Yunchen got up to go to the restroom, bumping into Xuan yuchi’s hand, and the beautiful perfume bottle fell to the floor and shattered into pieces.

Assistant Liu’s mouth dropped open in regret.

The scent of perfume quickly filled the entire room.

Xuan yuchi frowned, looking at Yunchen.

That collision was probably not an accident.

Bian Yunchen ignored her and walked straight to the restroom.

Xuan yuchi crouched down to clean up the broken glass, thinking she hadn’t done anything wrong. Could it be that Bian Yunchen had a feud with Li Qinger?

The restroom door wasn’t closed. Bian Yunchen was washing her face inside, the sound of running water continuing incessantly. After washing her face, she washed her hands, washing them more thoroughly than a medical student.

Xuan yuchi closed the door and then turned off the faucet. She had been to too many water-scarce regions over the years and couldn’t bear to see anyone waste water.

“Who upset you? Tell me about it,” Xuan yuchi said, leaning against the door with her arms crossed.

Bian Yunchen lowered her head, wiped her hands with a paper towel, and tossed it into the bin: “Producer Gao selected you to be the Production Assistant. Go find her yourself later.”

What?

How did she become a Production Assistant again?

System: [Detecting side quest—Reclaim Your Career. Quest description: In the original plot, you will grow into a mature producer and create cinema legends with film empress Bian Yunchen. Completing this quest can accelerate world repair progress.]

Xuan yuchi: [Alright, life is truly exciting. The sooner I finish this quest, the sooner I’m free.]

Bian Yunchen stepped past her and pressed the door handle, but Xuan yuchi grabbed her wrist.

Xuan yuchi: “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Bian Yunchen glanced at her: “I don’t like that perfume smell.”

Xuan yuchi smiled: “Then what kind of scent do you like?”

Bian Yunchen paused; she genuinely didn’t have a specific favorite perfume scent.

Xuan yuchi suddenly leaned close to her, sniffing her scent carefully, and realized: “I know! You like this kind.”

Bian Yunchen was confused: “What kind?”

“Snow,” Xuan yuchi replied simply with one word.

The thick snow piled up in the deep mountains of the north, the scent is cold, unknowable, like diving into it with joy.

The rain stopped. Xuan yuchi met with Producer Gao and quickly immersed herself in her new job, running around and never resting her feet.

By the time the launch ceremony was over, she could name almost everyone in the crew. She admitted she was a genius in this regard.

The first scene was shot in the evening.

It was the climax scene right from the start—the protagonist Ling Yao commits suicide by jumping into the lake.

Xuan yuchi observed from the set.

The wooden bridge met the water, the setting sun was sentimental, and her figure was like a lone goose, leaving a faint silhouette.

“Cut,” Director Gu raised a thumb.

She was truly one of the top actresses in the country; she understood the feeling the director wanted after just one explanation.

The crew quickly pulled Bian Yunchen out of the water.

Even if it was summer lake water, it was icy cold to the bone.

Bian Yunchen was soaked through, her hair stuck to her face, looking pitiful, but her expression was anything but. She didn’t look like she was frozen by the water; rather, she looked like she had chilled the entire lake.

Assistant Liu draped a blanket over her, but Bian Yunchen waved her hand and said, “Again.”

Director Gu was a perfectionist. She was autocratic, but occasionally accepted actors’ opinions, especially when it was Bian Yunchen.

Four people came up with hair dryers and quickly dried Bian Yunchen’s hair.

This scene was meant to be shot without makeup. Bian Yunchen changed into a backup costume. It was a one-take shot, focusing on the protagonist Ling Yao’s desperate resolve before jumping into the lake.

Bian Yunchen floated up out of the lake by herself.

Still not quite right.

Ultimately, a woman as sentimental and reflective as Ling Yao, even if she commits suicide intentionally, can’t let go of the attachment in her heart; thus, she wants to die but is afraid to die.

But Bian Yunchen wasn’t afraid of death, genuinely not afraid.

They filmed it several times back and forth. Her lips were turning blue from the cold, and she looked more and more haggard, truly embodying Ling Yao’s final exhausted look.

Director Gu clapped her hands, knowing this film would be a success.

Xuan yuchi was an outsider with professional knowledge, unable to understand why Bian Yunchen was being so overly critical. She thought Bian Yunchen was acting out or being self-abusive, and she felt the anxiety of someone with low blood sugar.

“Which good actor isn’t crazy for their role?” Li Qinger stood next to her, gliding over, as it were. “I was like that when I was young too.”

Xuan yuchi caught a whiff of gossip: “You two have a history, don’t you?”

Li Qinger scoffed: “Is it history? She was just a newcomer then and wouldn’t understand. She probably thought I was giving her a hard time.”

They stood on the arched bridge behind the broken bridge where Ling Yao had jumped.

Bian Yunchen completed the best take of the scene, had just been pulled up, and was drinking ginger tea wrapped in a blanket, when she glanced over and saw the two of them chatting and laughing.

Assistant Liu pleaded: “Sister Yunchen, the cold will get into your body and you’ll catch a cold. Please drink a few more sips.”

Bian Yunchen coughed right then and pushed the ginger tea away.

Director Gu brought her a red envelope.

“It’s a set rule: when a character dies, the director gives the actor a red envelope to ward off bad luck,” Li Qinger glanced at it, turned her back, and leaned against the bridge railing. “I see your relationship with her is unusual. Aren’t you going to give her one more?”

Xuan yuchi was prompted and smiled: “I’ll go right now. By the way, the perfume you gave me wasn’t just because of me, was it?”

Li Qinger brushed off the dampness on her clothes and didn’t reply, as if such things didn’t need to be said aloud. She maintained her superior posture, watching Xuan yuchi walk away.

Xuan yuchi ran outside the shooting area and looked around. No one was there.

Xuan yuchi: [666, transform a red envelope for me.]

Xuan yuchi looked towards the old building nearby. A red envelope was wedged in the stone-brick wall, with the gold-embossed words “Happy New Year” written on it.

It wasn’t timely, but it would do.

Xuan yuchi went to a convenience store to exchange one hundred yuan in cash, fiddled with it for a while, and stuffed the money into the red envelope.

The moon climbed behind the eaves of the ancient city’s houses. The crew wrapped up, and the driver came to pick them up.

Bian Yunchen rested with her eyes closed. Her head ached, and she took a painkiller.

A red envelope, presented with both hands, was held out to her.

“This is one I prepared just for you,” Xuan yuchi said. “I didn’t know the crew had this tradition.”

Bian Yunchen’s eyes lingered on the red envelope for a few seconds. She opened it, inserting her fingers a little, but felt nothing.

She looked at Xuan yuchi.

Was she playing a trick on her?

Xuan yuchi curled the corners of her mouth, inverted the red envelope, and spread Bian Yunchen’s palm. A heart-shaped paper note slipped into it.

Bian Yunchen gave a faint smile and turned her gaze away.

Childish.

Xuan yuchi put the money into her bag: “Yunchen, can’t you act in roles with better endings?”

When she was bored on Fengxia Island, she had watched all of Bian Yunchen’s works since her debut—all the characters were either dead or injured; it was so unlucky.

They say actors’ fates resonate with their biggest hit roles.

Bian Yunchen remained silent, thinking that arthouse film directors all liked this kind of thing.

She grasped Xuan yuchi’s hand, interlacing their fingers, and said lazily: “Alright. I’m waiting for you to set up that project.”

Assistant Liu behind them was dumbfounded.

Good heavens, was she dreaming?

Xuan yuchi seemed to notice Assistant Liu’s astonished gaze, gave a slight cough, and slipped out of Bian Yunchen’s grasp.

The producers arranged hotels, but due to differing treatment, Xuan yuchi stayed on a lower floor than Bian Yunchen.

Being a Production Assistant was busier than she imagined. Everyone else was finished for the day, but she still had to run up and down, back and forth.

Fortunately, coffee kept her going.

After being on the set for a week, she felt like she had lost a little weight. She gradually mastered the art of slacking off and passing the buck, which finally gave her some free time.

Late one evening, Producer Gao said she could take the day off. Before Xuan yuchi could reply, someone else said Director Gu was looking for her.

In a small meeting room, Bian Yunchen and Director Gu sat on opposite sides of a long table.

The director waved her over, and Xuan yuchi sat down next to Bian Yunchen.

“Xiao Xuan, how has it been on the set?” Director Gu asked, pushing a plate of fruit and melon seeds towards Xuan yuchi.

Xuan yuchi: “It’s been great.”

She smiled and cracked a melon seed, but it was too hard and pricked her gum.

Bian Yunchen handed her a bottle of water.

Director Gu: “Yunchen and I aren’t collaborating for the first time; we’re all friends, so don’t be too reserved.”

Xuan yuchi smiled, feeling like nothing good was coming.

The assistant brought dinner, three servings of high-end Japanese cuisine.

Director Gu and she talked about restaurants in the capital, finding they shared the same taste—many of their favorite restaurants overlapped. By the end of the meal, the atmosphere was very pleasant.

Director Gu: “There’s a role in this film. Could you make a friendly cameo?”

Xuan yuchi was excited: “I can! What kind of role?”

A fleeting smile flashed across Bian Yunchen’s face.

Director Gu, that old thief, had revised the script after filming began, adding a highly intimate scene.

Bian Yunchen said she would only film according to the original script. Director Gu then used every trick she could—sometimes talking about dedication to art, sometimes saying she was the sole protagonist and therefore had greater responsibility than others.

Bian Yunchen had never filmed such things since her debut; it was her bottom line.

Director Gu guaranteed on her Alpha honor that if Bian Yunchen filmed it, she could ensure the movie would sweep international awards.

Bian Yunchen ignored her. The director then mobilized others to persuade her, even people from the higher-ups.

To reject someone, one should propose a condition the other party cannot meet.

Bian Yunchen said she could do it, but she would only film it with someone she was familiar with, and she specifically named Xuan yuchi.

Director Gu: “Yunchen has an intimate scene in the movie. You need to play the woman she has a one-night stand with.”

Xuan yuchi: “How intimate…”

Director Gu showed her the storyboard she had drawn.

Xuan yuchi’s worldview was nearly shattered. How was this different from the real thing?

Director Gu’s image instantly dropped two notches in her eyes, sinking to that of a vulgar director who uses such things for shock value.

“I won’t film it,” Xuan yuchi said.

“You shouldn’t film it either,” she instructed Bian Yunchen.

Director Gu: “Xiao Xuan, I know you’re not a professional actor, and this might cause you some trouble, but I can guarantee your face won’t appear directly in the shot.”

Xuan yuchi was resolute: “No, even so.”

The matter was left unsettled for a while.

Two months flew by in a flash, and Xuan yuchi and Bian Yunchen mostly went about their own business.

The daily life of the crew was quite entertaining. Due to her position, Xuan yuchi heard plenty of gossip every day, and whenever she had time, she would tell Bian Yunchen.

Things like the director’s mistress turning out to be one of the extras.

Who was feuding with whom, secretly having someone cut the other person’s costume.

Who was flirting with two people at once on the set.

Where she saw a rutting Omega and an Alpha messing around in an alley.

Bian Yunchen just smiled when she heard it. She had heard such stories a thousand times before.

One day, Bian Yunchen wrapped up work very late. Xuan yuchi waited by her side, and the two walked together in the ancient city. Unknowingly, their hands touched.

The night was tranquil, their bodies felt cool, and their solitary hearts felt a little restless.

Xuan yuchi actively held her hand, looking into her deep eyes.

She wanted to possess it so badly.

So, this is what liking someone feels like?

She realized she had been wrong again. She had mistaken her feelings for Yunchen as the familial love of people who grew up together.

But it wasn’t.

Xuan Yuchi cupped her face, their gaze brief yet long, and she tentatively leaned closer, kissing her lips.

It was like she had touched autumn; one person held two seasons.

Bian Yunchen hooked her neck and kissed her back.

On the path paved with ginkgo leaves, the two kissed passionately, a scene more spectacular than anything on screen.

Support