The Fallen Film Queen’s Possessive Alpha - Chapter 40

York had a different vibe from Los Angeles more open-minded, with locals eager to participate in all sorts of bizarre festivals and flaunt outrageously eccentric outfits. Even major events like the Pheromone Conference or Film Exhibition Days deliberately avoided overlapping with the Harvest Festival, which had essentially turned into a full-blown costume extravaganza.

On the first day of the Harvest Festival, York’s main streets were packed to the brim, with everyone decked out in wild costumes even the police wore ridiculous hats to show their participation. Zhou Qiwei, hiding in her villa and watching the news, was just about to scoff at how these people had too much time on their hands when she heard a thumping sound coming down the stairs.

Strange why would Song Haoyin’s footsteps sound like that? Zhou Qiwei turned her head so fast she nearly sprained her neck. Her eyes widened in horror at the sight before her: the renowned actress, the epitome of grace and beauty, had transformed herself into a giant, fuzzy yellow durian!

The plush durian wobbled its way from the stairs into the living room, stopping right in front of Zhou Qiwei. Song Haoyin took one look at Zhou Qiwei’s utterly shattered expression and couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Gently tapping Zhou Qiwei’s chin, she teased, “Don’t let it drop.”

“This is the cosplay outfit you bought yesterday?! Why a durian?!” Zhou Qiwei couldn’t wrap her head around it. How could someone with such refined artistic taste and impeccable aesthetics choose to dress up as a spiky fruit?!

“I think it’s fun,” Song Haoyin replied, utterly pleased with herself.

She grabbed Zhou Qiwei’s hand and cheerfully dropped another bombshell: “Oh, and I bought a costume for you too. Come take a look.”

“No way!” Zhou Qiwei tried to bolt, but the durian lady wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug. Too afraid to use any joint locks in case she hurt Song Haoyin, Zhou Qiwei could only whimper as she was forcibly dragged into the bedroom.

“Just try it on. If you really don’t like it, I won’t force you to come with me. Deal?”

Weak, pitiful, and helpless, Zhou Qiwei succumbed to Song Haoyin’s sweet talk and gentle persuasion, reluctantly changing into the costume. Thankfully, Song Haoyin had gone easy on her no honeydew melon transformation. Instead, she was dressed as a cartoon bear, complete with brown fur, round ears, and a white belly.

“Well? Adorable, right?” Song Haoyin buried her face in the plush fur, grinning. “Just as cute as your little bear backpack, don’t you think?”

“So are you coming with me?”

Zhou Qiwei immediately caved. “Yes!”

The bear-and-durian duo turned heads wherever they went, especially since beneath the elaborate costumes were two strikingly beautiful women. Cameras followed them down the street, and Zhou Qiwei grew uneasy, instinctively shielding Song Haoyin.

“Really, it’s fine,” Song Haoyin reassured her. “No one will recognize us.”

The other day, when the topic of “fading fame” had come up, Song Haoyin hadn’t elaborated. Worried about reopening old wounds, Zhou Qiwei hadn’t pressed further. But maybe they should talk about it.

Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as the durian lady tugged her hand, pulling them into the parade. On that chilly autumn night, York’s main boulevard overflowed with a riot of colors and costumes. Laughter filled the air, and the entire city pulsed with unbridled joy.

The buildings along the street were adorned with golden lights, complementing the twinkling stars in the night sky and illuminating the entire avenue. Young people, with extraordinary imagination, wrapped themselves in all sorts of creative costumes. Stepping into the scene felt like entering a fantastical fairy-tale world.

From clowns to vampires, zombies to superheroes, everyone was making an effort to dress up and embellish the procession, turning the entire avenue into a grand masquerade.

Song Haoyin pulled Zhou Qiwei into the crowd. Like drops of water merging into the ocean, they found themselves surrounded by even more bizarre and eye-catching outfits. They admired others in the crowd and were admired in return, each person freely reveling in joy.

Madness and passion intertwined, with all inspiration and creativity bursting forth in this moment. The entire city was immersed in a sea of merriment until dawn.

Standing on the brick path in front of the villa, Zhou Qiwei, as if drunk, held Song Haoyin’s hand and hopped into the garden like a little bear. Song Haoyin tried to hold onto her, but the bear’s attention was completely captivated by the rose bushes in the garden.

The little bear climbed high to pluck the most beautiful red rose from the top and presented it to Miss Durian.

The red rose was placed above the fireplace, while Persian carpets were strewn with durian and bear costumes, leading all the way to the bathroom door, where undergarments lay scattered. The bathroom was brightly lit, with Zhou Qiwei and Song Haoyin shoulder-deep in bubbles in the bathtub, empty wine glasses resting on the ledge beside them.

In high spirits and under the influence of alcohol, Zhou Qiwei was unusually talkative that night. Not only did she enthusiastically recount the bizarre costumes she had seen, but she also lamented how she had spent her past cooped up in the laboratory, never participating in such fun activities.

“The biggest event I ever attended was my middle school sports meet.”

Giggling and ducking underwater before resurfacing to smile at Song Haoyin, Zhou Qiwei was truly drunk and began spilling secrets: “I wanted to enlist right after college, so I started professional athletic training in middle school.”

Song Haoyin laughed, sipping her wine occasionally, encouraging Zhou Qiwei to continue her confessions. Listening to Dr. Zhou’s ramblings, she suddenly felt grateful to fate for making Zhou Qiwei so eccentric otherwise, someone this adorable would have been snatched up long ago, leaving no chance for her.

She kissed the little bear, dried her off, and tucked her into bed to sleep soundly. Exhausted, Song Haoyin quickly drifted into deep slumber, warmed by the little bear nestled beside her.

Half-asleep, Song Haoyin felt someone kissing her, slowly moving upward in scattered pecks that grew more intense, stirring her pheromones. The mingling scents swayed and merged, her senses honing in on a single point. A moist touch overwhelmed her with immense pleasure.

Song Haoyin gasped heavily, her body arching like a bridge before collapsing back onto the bed. She felt like a river thawing in early spring, warm sunlight melting the icy surface while turbulent currents surged beneath, ready to break through and nourish the fields along the banks.

Zhou Qiwei, like a snake emerging from hibernation, finally wriggled out from under the covers and eagerly nuzzled her neck.

Perhaps because she wasn’t fully awake yet, Song Haoyin’s reaction was more intense than usual, her body still trembling slightly. Warm hands gently stroked her abdomen as Zhou Qiwei helped her regain steady breathing, gradually calming her body.

With an indignant slap, Song Haoyin shifted her position, feeling the dampness beneath her. The beauty’s face flushed crimson, her expression a mix of embarrassment and irritation. Zhou Qiwei swiftly rolled out of bed, donned her robe, and effortlessly carried Song Haoyin into the bathroom again.

“We could turn into mermaids.”

Her mind still foggy, Song Haoyin’s thoughts were filled with images of their recent passionate encounters in the bathroom enough water used to sustain two mermaids.

“Please raise your arms. I need to dry the mermaid now. Wouldn’t want our mermaid to dehydrate, would we?”

Zhou Qiwei played along cheerfully, genuinely savoring every moment with Song Haoyin. But good times never last. When they finally settled in the living room, Zhou Qiwei sighed dejectedly in two days, they’d have to part ways.

Song Haoyin would join the team from Ferris Wheel Productions and Qu Yuanzhi to submit “Fuse” to the thriller competition at the film festival. Meanwhile, Zhou Qiwei would meet with the arriving team from Cube Research Institute to prepare for the World Pheromone Research Conference.

Ah, work wears people down, work breaks human spirits. Just thinking about it darkened Zhou Qiwei’s mood before the tasks even began.

Song Haoyin felt equally gloomy. For the first time, she experienced genuine reluctance to work not from pheromone influence or post-intimacy attachment, but simply because she didn’t want to leave Zhou Qiwei.

On the last day of their autumn holiday, torrential rain poured outside fittingly. Wrapped in a blanket by the window, Song Haoyin admired the rainy garden scenery continuous droplets, rose petals scattered everywhere, a truly desolate view. Sipping hot cocoa, her gaze drifted to the garden gate where Zhou Qiwei had been standing since going out, her purpose unclear.

Soon, the doorbell rang. Zhou Qiwei returned to the living room carrying something. Curious, Song Haoyin watched as the other woman busied herself with plates, cutlery, and pouring freshly brewed latte into cups before arranging everything on a serving cart.

“Afternoon tea. I’m not sure if you’ll like this,” Zhou Qiwei said as she unwrapped the package a Black Forest cake.

The burst of cherry mixed with the bittersweet richness of dark chocolate through the fluffy cake overwhelmed their taste buds. Sitting together before the fireplace, sharing the same blanket, they chatted idly and promised to return here after completing their respective work.

“That day you mentioned something about being past your prime. I’ve been concerned and confused. You already have awards and signature works, how could you possibly be past your prime?”

Song Haoyin licked cream from her fork tip, realizing Zhou Qiwei must have pondered this question for a long time before gathering courage to ask. Reflecting back, since their argument about Zhou interfering with her studio work, Zhou Qiwei had truly refrained from meddling in her professional affairs.

If she hadn’t been particularly worried, she wouldn’t have chosen to cross boundaries as an exception. Song Haoyin now felt some regret she had been too sensitive and overreacted at the time. Raising her head with a look of relief, she carefully explained to Zhou Qiwei the differences between academia and the entertainment industry.

Scientists with outstanding achievements would be engraved on the monument of scientific development and remembered by people. Accomplished actors, while also leaving behind their reputations, would see their monetization capabilities affected including but not limited to project choices, endorsements, and follow-up resources if they lacked works or exposure.

“Some actors may seem to have both fame and fortune, like me in the past. Although I’ve always followed the path of a professional actor with works and awards, appearing highbrow, without my mother’s help and the studio’s investment projects, my earning power wouldn’t compare to top celebrities if I relied solely on myself.”

“But if Director Song hadn’t fallen ill unexpectedly, and your career path wasn’t about chasing popularity, would you really need to compare earning power with those people?”

“Of course not.”

Song Haoyin laughed wryly, with a hint of resignation about her career: “You’re not from the industry, so it’s hard for you to immediately notice the issues. In reality, since my last lead role wrapped filming, up until this very moment, I haven’t worked for over a year and a half.”

“That film winning awards was called undeserved by some. After my mother passed away, many things happened up till now. As a result, many good low-budget scripts simply don’t come to me anymore. And for the scripts I’m interested in, since many assume I’ll transition behind the scenes, it’s only natural I’m not their first choice.”

“There are indeed some actors who remain top choices for renowned directors despite long absences from filming. But in this field, I haven’t yet reached the throne or achieved that status. Stuck in the middle it’s truly awkward.”

Song Haoyin was genuinely troubled. Though her tone remained light, the cake in her hand was unconsciously crushed to pieces.

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