Transmigrated as the Future Movie Queen's Arch-Nemesis - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Watching Xin Keke’s retreating back as she ran into the Guomao Building, Su Mi leaned against the railing downstairs and let out a long, deep sigh of relief.

Before she went up, Su Mi had stuffed a pack of tissues into Xin Keke’s hand, telling her to wipe her sweat once she reached her floor. This distance of a few hundred meters didn’t look long, but running it had nearly taken the life out of her.

Su Mi looked down at the time: 7:53 PM.

Good, not late.

The place where they had gotten out of the taxi happened to be a bridge. Su Mi had gripped Xin Keke’s hand and led her in a sprint toward Guomao.

Neither of them spoke; their ears were filled only with the sound of the wind and their racing heartbeats.

Thump-thump.

Thump-thump-thump-thump.

The soft sensation from her palm still lingered on her skin.

Su Mi thoughtfully raised her hand and gave it a phantom squeeze in the air.

Once she completely relaxed, her stomach let out an embarrassing “growl.”

Because she had been so worried about whether they would make it, Su Mi had been too busy to even think about eating. Now that her mind was at ease, her stomach began to protest restlessly.

Su Mi originally intended to go to the nearby convenience store for a proper meal, but then she remembered that Xin Keke hadn’t eaten dinner either. So, she bought a small bowl of Oden, eating a few bites just to tide herself over.

When Xin Keke finishes her audition and comes down, I’ll take her to get something delicious.

Su Mi sat on a small stool by the convenience store window, propping her chin on her hand, thinking idly.

Since waiting was boring anyway, Su Mi simply opened Xin Keke’s WeChat Moments and started scrolling from top to bottom.

The other girl had set her profile to “visible for the last six months,” and even within that timeframe, there wasn’t much content. There was only one post with a few costumed stills, featuring all sorts of different people in the shots.

Then there were some links to digital magazines or shoots; even then, they were group events with many people, not single interviews of Xin Keke.

Only a few photos actually featured Xin Keke, and she was always positioned near the edges.

Even so, Xin Keke had shared them to her Moments to help with promotion.

Aside from these, Xin Keke had no other work invitations.

Su Mi scrolled down forcefully, only to hit the bottom of the screen.

She gripped her phone tightly.

Su Mi suddenly remembered that in the car, because she was too nervous and worried about Xin Keke missing the audition, she had forgotten to tell Xin Keke about the deal with the production crew.

She would ask about the situation once she came down. If things weren’t ideal, she could use that news to cheer her up.

As for Director Song, if it didn’t work out, she could just act spoiled with her grandmother. Squeezing one more person in shouldn’t be a problem for the director.

Even if it was just a minor, background role.

With her mind drifting like this, Su Mi opened a drawing app on her phone and occasionally made a few strokes with her finger. Before she knew it, quite a bit of time had passed.

With winter approaching, the sky darkened early. When she had sent Xin Keke into the building, the sky was basically pitch black.

Now, even more so—the orange glow of the streetlights hit the ground, but there were few figures outside. Every building in the Guomao complex had lights on; every floor contained miserable people working overtime.

She didn’t know how long she waited, but when Su Mi looked up again, she saw a familiar figure beneath that warm glow of light.

Xin Keke was still carefully lifting the small dress Su Mi had lent her, as if afraid of getting it dirty. She stood under the streetlight, looking back and forth as if searching for someone.

When her gaze didn’t find the person she was looking for, the shoulders of the person under the light seemed to slump for a split second.

In that instant, Su Mi felt her heart tremble with a buzz.

Soon, Su Mi’s phone vibrated.

Su Mi didn’t have time to look at it, even though she knew it was a message from Xin Keke.

She grabbed her phone, quickly picked out a few skewers of Oden, and after paying, she jogged out of the convenience store: “Xin Keke!”

The person under the streetlight who was looking down at her phone looked up without a second of hesitation upon hearing Su Mi’s voice.

The white lights of the convenience store entrance made Su Mi’s face look pale, but she waved vigorously at Xin Keke.

It seemed that for a fleeting second, Xin Keke smiled at her.

Su Mi checked the road to her left and right, and after confirming there were no cars, she walked quickly into that pool of orange light. She handed over the small bowl: “Eat this first to tide you over.”

Xin Keke looked at Su Mi, then at the Oden in her hand, remaining motionless for a moment.

It was hard to tell if she wanted to refuse, or if she felt too embarrassed to accept because Su Mi had already helped her so much today.

Su Mi didn’t give Xin Keke time to overthink. She pressed the small bowl into Xin Keke’s hand. The warmth of the soup-filled bowl instantly transferred to Xin Keke’s palm.

Along with the temperature of Su Mi’s fingertips.

“How was it?” Su Mi asked, then felt that this wasn’t the best place for a chat. “Eat a little first. It’s too cold today; in a bit, I’ll take you for hotpot to warm up.”

Xin Keke hesitated but first expressed her thanks for the Oden: “…Thank you.”

“But… it’s a bit too late today. How about I treat you tomorrow?”

Under the streetlight, Xin Keke’s eyes seemed to sparkle.

She picked an octopus ball out of the small bowl, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

This was the first time Su Mi had seen such an expression on her face.

Su Mi had planned to urge her to eat dinner, but after seeing Xin Keke’s smile, she suddenly changed her mind. She nodded vigorously: “Okay!”

The two of them walked side-by-side through the autumn night.

Xin Keke wasn’t shy either; she took a bite of the octopus ball skewer, her cheek bulging as she ate. As they walked, Su Mi suddenly realized: “Is eating just this enough for you tonight? Let me buy you something else.”

“It’s fine, really.” Xin Keke seemed to be in a good mood, even offering Su Mi a smile. “As an actress, I have to maintain a good figure at all times.”

“…Alright then.”

Being able to walk peacefully on the road with Xin Keke was something Su Mi wouldn’t have dared imagine on the day she first transmigrated.

It could be considered a giant leap forward.

Xin Keke chewed and swallowed the ball in her mouth, suddenly sounding a bit uneasy: “Sorry, Su Mi. Actually, you didn’t have to wait for me. You lent me clothes and brought me here; I’m already very grateful.”

“It’s fine! Didn’t I say I had nothing to do at night anyway? Better to come out for a walk than stay home as a shut-in.”

Su Mi waved it off.

She talked as she walked forward, and by the time she noticed, she realized Xin Keke had stopped walking quite a while ago, leaving a small gap between them.

Su Mi turned back: “What’s wrong?”

They happened to be standing in the space between two streetlights. The diagonal light illuminated Xin Keke’s hem, but her face was currently shrouded in shadow.

Xin Keke looked up at her. In the dimness, her expression was obscure and unreadable.

Su Mi was about to take a step toward her when she suddenly heard her say:

“Why… are you suddenly being so good to me?”

Su Mi’s footsteps paused.

Xin Keke gripped the small Oden bowl tightly, as if making a final struggle: “Before, you hated me. Just like Xia Lei and the others.”

“Why did you suddenly change?” Her voice became a bit bitter.

“Su Mi… are you trying to play another prank on me?”

At this moment, even though Su Mi was not originally from this world, her heart felt a pang of sadness.

She had read the entire book. Through the fragments of information left by the author, she could roughly guess what kind of suffering Xin Keke had endured as a child.

She had been abandoned since birth and raised in an orphanage; she never knew what it felt like to be loved by parents.

Even deep into the original work, Xin Keke protected her heart with heavy armor; “love” remained her weakness.

Su Mi had to admit that after interacting with Xin Keke these past few days, the fact that Xin Keke would become an award-winning actress later had been pushed to the back of her mind.

She was good to her because, aside from wanting to flip her reputation in Xin Keke’s heart to save her own stable life, there was indeed a part of her that felt pity for Xin Keke.

Su Mi looked at Xin Keke’s face.

A sudden yearning surged in her heart.

She walked toward Xin Keke, stepping into that same shadow.

Su Mi leaned down toward Xin Keke, but the person in front of her instinctively dodged. A kiss as light as a feather landed near the corner of Xin Keke’s lips.

Hot breath brushed against Xin Keke’s cheek. She turned her head stiffly, refusing to face Su Mi.

The fingers gripping the Oden bowl were pressing so hard that the paper bowl was becoming deformed.

“Forgive the old me,” Su Mi whispered to her.

“From now on, I will be good to you.”

After saying this, Su Mi turned around and stepped back into the light of the next streetlight.

An empty taxi happened to drive by. Su Mi waved at it, and it slowed to a stop.

Su Mi opened the door and jerked her chin toward Xin Keke: “Get in.”

Xin Keke hesitated for a moment but finally sat in the back seat, still clutching the deformed bowl.

She thought Su Mi would squeeze in as well, just like when they came. However, as soon as Xin Keke sat down firmly, the right-hand door shut with a thud.

She was the only one in the spacious back seat.

Su Mi stood outside the window, smiling and waving at Xin Keke: “Tell the driver yourself where you’re going. I won’t pry into your home address. Remember to message me when you get home.”

Xin Keke was stunned.

She was about to say something to Su Mi, but her words were cut off by the driver: “Young lady, where to?”

“I…”

She choked for a moment and gave the driver a location.

The engine restarted, the car drove off, and Su Mi gradually turned into a small dot behind the car.

Until she could no longer be seen.

Yet Xin Keke kept her head turned, watching.

“Ah, girls really have the best relationships with each other,” the driver said genially, seeing Xin Keke looking back through the rearview mirror. “You two must be very close friends, right?”

“…”

Xin Keke bit her lower lip.

“Not friends,” she said in a small, quick voice.

The driver clearly didn’t hear her and let out a questioning “Hmm?”. Xin Keke didn’t want to repeat herself; she shook her head and leaned back into the seat, drained of strength.

Su Mi stood in place waving at the taxi until she could no longer see Xin Keke. Then she turned and hailed another empty car.

“Master, please go to the Shengxing Entertainment building,” Su Mi told the driver.

Tonight, because of the rush for Xin Keke’s audition, she had forgotten to handle Xia Lei and the surveillance issue.

If she wanted to confront Xia Lei tomorrow and force her to confess, the surveillance footage was absolutely essential.

That dress—anybody could figure out it was something Xin Keke had saved up for by skipping meals. Even if the original owner was rich and could buy Xin Keke ten of the same dress, the harm Xia Lei had caused Xin Keke couldn’t be erased with money.

She couldn’t let Xin Keke suffer this kind of grievance.

She was going to make Xia Lei apologize to Xin Keke in person.

The taxi started moving slowly. Looking at the prosperous night view of Dingjiang City through the window, Su Mi propped up her chin.

Sigh, even in the end, Xin Keke didn’t tell her how the audition actually went today.

But looking at her expression, and knowing the successful plot point in the original work despite it being glossed over, Su Mi knew Xin Keke would definitely be fine.

Thinking of this, Su Mi leaned against the window and let out a soft laugh.