The Heartless Alpha Just Wants to Follow the Plot - Chapter 55

Before stepping onto the set, Su Mo cast a backward glance at Pu Ying. Her gaze was filled with a mix of doubt and confusion, as if she couldn’t quite fathom what had come over the other woman.

Pu Ying lowered her head. Indeed, she thought, this has nothing to do with Su Mo. Everything I’m doing is of my own free will.

Su Mo’s entrance was, as expected, nothing short of breathtaking. With that face of hers, she didn’t even need to emote; simply standing there was enough to project an aura of haughty indifference.

Combined with the bold makeup the stylists had specifically designed and her exquisite wardrobe, her innate arrogance and disdain were magnified. She possessed the kind of beauty that felt like a once-in-a-millennium revelation.

Everyone on set stood frozen, as if their very souls had been snatched away.

“Is this the absolute ceiling of visuals in the industry?”

“This is the first time I’ve actually ‘gotten’ Su Mo’s beauty.”

“I’m about to turn from a hater to a fan just for that face. I was stunned when she walked out. I’m so sorry to my own goddess.”

“I’ve never been so shaken by an Alpha before. With looks like that, how can she be an Alpha! If she were an Omega, I’d go get a marriage certificate with her right now!”

“Pah! Even if she’s an Alpha, I’m willing. I’d be the one underneath, just for the chance to bear her children!”

Waves of admiration and envy rippled through the staff. In this circle, beautiful women were everywhere, but beauty this aggressive and predatory was a rare find.

“I finally understand why Director Jiang agreed to cast her. With looks like these, if she has even a shred of acting talent, she’s a total juggernaut.”

“Forgive me for let her wealth distract me from her face. I sincerely apologize now.”

Even the elder Director Jiang, a man long accustomed to beautiful faces, was visibly struck. That face alone was enough to intimidate most people, but the moment he recalled the rumors of her “wooden” acting, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He still harbored doubts about his colleague’s judgment.

The younger Director Jiang, however, was ecstatic. He slapped the elder director’s thigh a few times, muttering excitedly to himself, “We hit the jackpot! This is it. This is exactly the state I wanted.”

“This is exactly how I imagined Wan Wan to be!”

The elder Director Jiang silently pushed the hand away, his expression stony. “I only hope her performance in a moment is as stunning as her appearance.”

The younger director looked at him with a mysterious glint in his eye and lowered his voice. “Just you wait. Prepare to be amazed.”

When Su Mo appeared, even Qiu Fu who was playing opposite her froze for several seconds. Is this Su Mo with her aura fully unleashed? The sense of pressure was overwhelming.

“Excuse me, do you know where the Principal’s office is?”

To better fit the role, Su Mo raised the pitch of her voice slightly, infusing it with a sense of nonchalant lethargy and indifference. This cool, detached tone was a departure from her usual voice, creating an entirely different vibe. Su Mo’s natural voice never felt oppressive; it usually just made people think she was a bit unreliable.

But with this specific vocal range, anyone listening would feel as though they were being looked down upon.

Qiu Fu stood there blankly. For a moment, her acting seemed to revert to a state of raw greenness. She didn’t know how to speak, or even how to face Su Mo. It felt as though the chasm between her status and Su Mo’s was so vast that they could never exist on the same plane.

“You don’t know?”

Su Mo arched an eyebrow and turned to ask someone else. At that moment, the Principal and the Dean of Students hurried over. Seeing Su Mo, they immediately approached with fawning smiles, completely ignoring the student played by Qiu Fu.

As Su Mo was ushered forward, surrounded by the crowd, her gaze naturally never fell upon the “nobody” student Qiu Fu portrayed.

Watching this, the elder Director Jiang sat on his stool with his arms crossed, murmuring, “She’s completely leading the scene.”

The younger Director Jiang stroked his chin and nodded with conviction. “But that rawness from the lead works well. It makes the scene less polished and more authentic.”

“Good, cut!”

“Next take.”

The scene was a wrap. Su Mo walked quickly toward Pu Ying, whose eyes still held traces of shock and admiration. Seeing Su Mo approach, Pu Ying merely straightened her posture.

As Su Mo walked, she suddenly stepped on a shoelace that had somehow come undone. She stumbled, nearly falling flat on her face. Pu Ying lunged forward, catching her in an instant.

Pu Ying’s brow was furrowed tight. “How could you be so careless?”

Su Mo gave an embarrassed laugh. “An accident.”

That stumble hadn’t just startled Pu Ying; it sent a jolt through everyone on set. If she had actually been injured, this film might have ended before it even truly began.

The elder Director Jiang, who had bolted upright, let out a breath of relief. The younger Director Jiang was a beat slower in finding his composure, his heart finally descending from his throat. Terrifying. I almost saw half a lifetime’s work go down the drain.

Even Qiu Fu and Si Yu, who had intended to come over and discuss the script, were a step too late. Seeing Su Mo leaning into Pu Ying’s arms, Qiu Fu bit her lip and withdrew her reaching hand.

Pu Ying helped Su Mo into a chair and dropped to one knee to inspect her foot. The elder Director Jiang walked over and asked in a low voice, “Are you alright? How’s the ankle?”

He prayed silently: Please don’t let anything be wrong. Things just started getting smooth; I don’t want this to die in the cradle.

“Wait, don’t—”

Seeing Pu Ying kneeling on one leg to lift her foot, Su Mo realized what she was doing and reached out to stop her. It wasn’t necessary; she wasn’t hurt that badly.

Pu Ying shot her a sharp look. “Be quiet.”

“How will I know if you’re really okay if I don’t look?”

Su Mo felt awkward. “I really feel like it’s nothing.”

“I’m the one who decides that.”

Pu Ying frowned as she massaged Su Mo’s foot. Her expression darkened as she removed the shoe; to make the overall look more aesthetic, the shoelaces had been tied in an elaborate, decorative style. It looked beautiful, but it came undone far too easily. This was the primary reason Su Mo had nearly tripped.

Su Mo didn’t feel any pain; the stumble had just looked more dramatic than it was. Being in front of so many people while Pu Ying handled her bare ankle felt strange.

She shifted her foot slightly and whispered, “I’m fine.”

Pu Ying performed a thorough check and finally relaxed once she was sure there was no injury. “You’re right, it’s fine.”

She picked up the shoe to put it back on, but Su Mo quickly retracted her foot. “I can do it myself,” she said, flushed with embarrassment.

Pu Ying’s voice left no room for argument: “Put it back.”

Su Mo: “…”

Feeling a wave of awkwardness, Su Mo extended her foot. Pu Ying carefully slid the shoe back on and re-tied the laces for both feet. Though she used the same decorative pattern as before, Pu Ying pulled with significantly more force this time, cinching them tight.

A nearby staff member started to step forward, an objection on the tip of their tongue, but they quickly swallowed it upon remembering the scene just moments ago. If Su Mo had truly been injured, the woman before them wouldn’t just be wearing a cold expression, she would likely be livid.

The staffer sheepishly pulled back their hand and retreated into the background.

Only after ensuring the laces wouldn’t budge did Pu Ying finally let Su Mo sit in peace.

From the sidelines, the elder Director Jiang watched Pu Ying fuss over Su Mo like a child, momentarily speechless. He had long heard rumors that Pu Ying’s protection of Su Mo bordered on obsessive indulgence, but he had always dismissed it as an exaggeration. After all, how much could one truly “spoil” someone in a professional setting?

Besides, Su Mo was a grown adult; surely she could handle herself?

Looking at them now, he began to doubt his previous skepticism. Perhaps Pu Ying really was suited for the role of a “helicopter parent” or a devoted nanny-manager. If a near-stumble caused this much distress, what would happen if a truly dangerous scene came up? Would Pu Ying insist on performing the stunts herself? It was a terrifying thought.

While Su Mo was away touching up her makeup, he drifted over to Pu Ying and whispered a warning. “Aren’t you overstepping a bit? She isn’t a toddler who knows nothing of the world. Putting her shoes on for her like that, if a photo of this gets out, it’ll be hard for either of you to explain, don’t you think?”

In the industry, Su Mo’s reputation as a flirt was legendary. Her list of scandals was so long that practically anyone who spent five minutes with her ended up in a “shipping” rumor.

While Su Mo rarely bothered to issue denials, there was one constant: whenever a rumored partner crossed a line or got too comfortable, the very next headline would invariably link Pu Ying and Su Mo together.

Outsiders called Pu Ying the “Grand Matriarch” of the Su household—the one who stepped in to extinguish the hopes of any “little flings” that grew too ambitious. Neither woman had ever addressed these rumors; they continued to be as intimate as ever in public and as professional as ever in their collaborations. Meanwhile, those “boundary-crossing” artists never seemed to work with Su Mo again.

It was as if they had been sternly reminded of their place. In future encounters, they would be the first to insist they weren’t actually close with Su Mo at all.

Because of this, the “Pu-Su” CP (Couple) fandom was quite large and surprisingly dedicated. Both sides maintained a stance of tacit consent, never stepping out to stop the shippers.

Director Jiang hadn’t believed it before. To him, these maneuvers were just clever marketing ploys cooked up by Su Mo’s team to satisfy her “spoiled heiress” ego, casting Pu Ying as the long-suffering employee forced to play along.

But looking at them now, he wasn’t so sure who was being “forced” anymore.

Pu Ying casually brushed her hands off. “If you’re worried about public perception, you’d be better off worrying about yourself. If she had fallen just now, your movie would be dead in the water.”

The Old Man hadn’t been thrilled about Su Mo filming during this period to begin with. If she were injured even if it were just a scraped knee, he would find any excuse to shut the entire production down.

It was ironic that this man, instead of worrying about his own project, had the spare energy to come over and mock her.

Director Jiang: “…”

Though he hated to admit it she was right. He was the one who should have been crying.

“My apologies. Please, carry on.”

A wise man knows when to retreat. He was someone who could admit when he was wrong—or, more accurately, someone who knew how to read the room.

When the younger Director Jiang saw his colleague return with a long face, he grew curious. “What’s with you?”

“Why the grim expression? Did she bully you?”

He couldn’t fathom how a man who usually remained unfazed by any setback could look so withered after just a few words with Pu Ying.

The elder Director Jiang shot him a haunting look. “I’m just experiencing the aftershock of almost losing my latest masterpiece.”

The younger Director Jiang blinked. “?”

“Huh? What masterpiece? We haven’t even finished this movie yet, why are you already thinking about the next one?”

At that thought, he clapped the elder director on the shoulder with a heavy, sympathetic hand. “Listen, don’t be fickle. You can’t create a perfect work if your heart is in two places at once.”

The elder Director Jiang’s lip twitched. “Get lost.”

The man had absolutely no idea what was going through his head.

Ignorance truly is bliss, he thought. No worries, no fears just happy and clueless every single day.