The Heartless Alpha Just Wants to Follow the Plot - Chapter 47

It was obvious, Hua Siyin was disappointed.

Qiu Fu entered the audition room and, after a short while, came back out looking rather relaxed. Her performance had left both Director Jiang and Director Jiang (two different directors sharing the same surname) silent for a moment before they began a heated discussion.

Meanwhile, the original author, Xiao Yu Dao Kuanglan, handed Qiu Fu a business card, his tone sincere and tinged with admiration:

“I really liked your interpretation. It was different from the others, you added your own understanding and empathy for that era. I appreciate that.”

“I have another adaptation coming up. Would you be willing to audition for it? It’ll be about six months from now. I hope we’ll have the chance to work together.”

Qiu Fu accepted the card, uncertain what to think. Did this mean she had no chance in the current project? Was this just compensation, an offer for the next one?

Holding the card, she hesitated, wondering if she should fight harder for this role. But then Director Jiang turned and said:

“As for you, go home and wait for the notice. Don’t worry, it won’t take more than a week.”

Qiu Fu tucked the card away and bowed deeply. “Thank you.”

Director Jiang waved her off. “It’s fine.”

When she stepped out, Raya immediately approached, handing her a thermos of warm water. The heat eased her tension, and her expression softened.

Raya asked curiously, “Did you succeed?”

The audition had taken longer than the others, but did that mean she had passed?

Qiu Fu shook her head honestly. “I don’t know. The director told me to wait. He said they’d notify me within a week.”

This round of auditions had lasted a month, mostly because of image issues. Director Jiang had rejected many actresses, they simply didn’t fit the vision he wanted.

He believed that in Earth’s era, when gender distinctions were sharper, those differences should be more clearly reflected, not blurred as they were now.

In the end, only two candidates matched his vision.

“Si Yu’s performance was excellent,” Director Jiang noted. “She grasped the rhythm of the role very well. If she had the full script, she’d probably nail the details even more precisely.”

Director Jiang favored Si Yu. She was a powerhouse, a rising star whose talent was catching up quickly.

But Xiao Yu Dao Kuanglan disagreed. “I recommend Qiu Fu. She’s also a strong actress. Her control over details is sharper than Si Yu’s, and she fits the character better.”

Director Jiang considered. “That’s true. She does look the part.”

Director Jiang countered: “Perhaps, but her acting feels too polished. It lacks the rawness of a high school student. The performance seemed a bit too deliberate.”

Though the author liked Qiu Fu, Director Jiang held firm to his opinion. He wasn’t targeting her, he simply believed he was right.

Xiao Yu Dao Kuanglan glanced at Director Jiang, knowing he was responsible and fair. Still, he stood by his choice.

With the author openly supporting Qiu Fu, Director Jiang couldn’t keep nitpicking minor flaws. In the end, he cast his vote for her too.

When Qiu Fu emerged, Hua Siyin’s eyes darted toward her, lips pressed tight, desperate to know the result. But clearly, Qiu Fu wasn’t going to tell her.

At that moment, Si Yu walked over to Qiu Fu. Under the curious gazes of others, she stopped in front of her.

Whispers rippled through the crowd:

“Si Yu doesn’t look too happy. Have they ever worked together?”

“They only met once—two years ago, at the Best Actress handover ceremony. They don’t seem close. Why is Si Yu approaching her?”

“Both of them have been linked to Su Mo in rumors. When Si Yu was rumored with Su Mo, Qiu Fu was also tied to her, which stole a lot of Si Yu’s spotlight. Maybe that’s the reason?”

“I heard Qiu Fu and Su Mo are sworn enemies. When Su Mo came to audition earlier, she froze for a moment upon seeing Qiu Fu. Maybe she’ll make things difficult for her.”

Speculation buzzed quietly, but Si Yu ignored it. She extended her hand warmly.

“Long time no see, Sister Qiu.”

Si Yu had entered the industry earlier, debuting as a child star. Yet Qiu Fu had won Best Actress before her.

Qiu Fu rose and clasped her hand. “Long time no see.”

Si Yu smiled. “It’s rare to meet like this. How about we have dinner together sometime?”

She had heard of the CP marketing between Qiu Fu and Su Mo. But in her impression, Qiu Fu wasn’t someone who enjoyed such publicity, and Su Mo wasn’t the type to allow malicious binding.

Besides, Qiu Fu probably disliked Su Mo as much as she once did. Those headlines were likely just accidents.

“Alright.”

Though puzzled by Si Yu’s sudden invitation, Qiu Fu observed her carefully. There was no malice, perhaps she was overthinking. Maybe Si Yu simply wanted to share a meal.

Si Yu nodded with a smile, her gaze drifting to Qiu Fu’s neck where a nearly invisible suppression patch lay.

Though the patch blended with her skin tone, Si Yu had looked closely enough to notice it.

Suppression patches were usually worn by omegas with partners, to conceal the scent of their alpha. But wasn’t Qiu Fu single?

Si Yu frowned slightly. When did Qiu Fu get a partner? Why hadn’t anyone in the industry mentioned it?

Noticing Si Yu’s gaze lingering, Qiu Fu shifted subtly. She instinctively realized Si Yu was looking at her neck.

She wore the patch there. Had it been discovered? She had deliberately chosen a higher-collared outfit for the audition, hoping to keep it hidden.

Suppression patches were designed for omegas with partners, especially those forcibly marked to mask the alpha’s scent.

People in their circle often wore suppression patches to hide the fact that they already had partners.

After all, much of their popularity hinged on the illusion of being unattached. If word got out that they were married or marked, their fan traffic could plummet overnight.

Si Yu hadn’t expected Qiu Fu to be one of those people. She withdrew her gaze, her eyes dimming slightly, then smiled and bid Qiu Fu farewell.

Qiu Fu nodded, sat back down, and turned to Raya. “Was it obvious?”

Raya glanced at the faint edge of the suppression patch peeking from her collar and shook her head. “Not obvious. She probably didn’t notice.”

Qiu Fu exhaled in relief. It wasn’t that she minded being misunderstood, but Si Yu had also been linked to Su Mo in rumors. If her patch were exposed now, it might reflect poorly on Su Mo.

“The audition’s over. We should go.”

Raya: “Mm.”

As Qiu Fu left, Si Yu followed with her assistant. She had promised to treat Qiu Fu to dinner, she couldn’t forget.

At the parking lot, just before Qiu Fu boarded her aircraft, Si Yu caught up. “Sister Qiu, let’s go to the Raffi Grass Rotating Restaurant. It’s private and safe.”

Qiu Fu paused, surprised. She had thought the invitation was just polite banter, not something serious.

After a moment’s hesitation, she stepped onto her aircraft. “Alright.”

Their crafts landed one after the other in the underground parking of the restaurant. Si Yu, clearly familiar with the place, produced a VIP card. A waiter immediately escorted the four of them to the top floor, reserved for senior VIPs.

The top floor was designed for relaxation, filled with low greenery. Most striking were the miniature orange trees, their golden fruit hanging temptingly from the branches. Just looking at them stirred the appetite.

In the corners, peach and plum trees bore fruit as well, adding to the charm. The setting was picturesque, inviting.

Si Yu, accustomed to the ambiance, chose a well-lit corner and sat down. “Sit.”

Qiu Fu scanned the surroundings before settling with Raya. “This place is nice.”

Si Yu smiled. “I like it here too, though work keeps me from coming often. Sister Qiu must be even busier.”

Qiu Fu thought of her pitifully sparse workload from the past and shook her head, saying nothing.

Si Yu had meant it as small talk, but realized she had touched a sore spot. She quickly apologized. “Ah, sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Qiu Fu waved it off. Si Yu hadn’t meant harm, and besides, those days were behind her.

Now, at Feimu Entertainment, Su Mo valued her highly and had given her ample resources. Her workload had increased, and her life was far better than before.

She no longer cared about the past. But Si Yu still felt guilty, she had unintentionally exposed Qiu Fu’s old struggles, which was impolite.

“You.”

Originally, after noticing the suppression patch on Qiu Fu’s neck, Si Yu had decided not to pursue closeness. But seeing how casually Qiu Fu brushed off her awkwardness, she reconsidered. Perhaps she had misjudged, maybe Qiu Fu had been forced into her situation.

“Since leaving Qi Huan Entertainment, have you been doing well?”

Qiu Fu blinked, sipping her lemon water. “Not bad. Feimu Entertainment is good.”

Si Yu thought for a moment, then offered: “I’ve received two new scripts. There are some good roles. Would you like to audition?”

Qiu Fu was baffled. Why was she suddenly offering me resources? Aren’t we rivals?

“Why are you telling me this?”

Si Yu smiled faintly. “It’s nothing, really. Just gratitude for what you said back then.”

Years ago, before she won Best Actress, Si Yu had been a child star struggling in the cutthroat industry. Few knew her name.

Fresh out of school, she returned to acting, only to be bullied by a more popular male co-star—an omega, spoiled and arrogant.

No one dared to offend him. Only Qiu Fu had spoken up, saying: Even a background actor is still an actor. No one deserves to be treated that way. You never know who might rise in the future. Better to treat people kindly.

Those words had stayed with Si Yu for five years.

Three years ago, when she accepted the Best Actress trophy from Qiu Fu, she had wanted to thank her. But at the time, Qiu Fu was under company sanctions, with little freedom.

Si Yu herself was just starting out, lacking the influence to help Qiu Fu escape her plight.

So, she waited. And waited. Until finally, Qiu Fu, with help from others, broke free from that predatory company.