Transmigrated as the Future Movie Queen's Arch-Nemesis - Chapter 20

Chapter 20

“Waaaaahhhh!!”

In the afternoon, in a room where no one but Su Mi was present, she wailed into her script, rolling across the bed three times in succession.

This is a disaster! It’s killing me!! Why did I transmigrate into an actress? This has absolutely nothing to do with my original profession!!

Wouldn’t it have been better to transmigrate as an illustrator?

With my drawing skills, I could just post a few pieces on a commission app, pick up some freelance work, or get invited to projects! Why, oh why, did I have to become an actress? The skill sets are completely incompatible!!

After her outburst, Su Mi collapsed face-first onto the bed, staring blankly with the lifeless eyes of a fish washed ashore.

Heh. When I watched TV, I used to complain that this actor had no acting skills or that one only knew how to glare. Now that it’s my turn, I can’t even contribute a “glaring” performance.

She had memorized the lines, but the moment she thought about having to portray someone else—even if the lines were perfectly normal—Su Mi felt an intense sense of embarrassment. This resulted in her being completely unable to deliver a performance. The observational experience of the last two days felt utterly insufficient when it came time to actually use it.

Furthermore, she had focused her observations on Xin Keke. As the original text mentioned, Xin Keke wasn’t a technician; she leaned toward being an intuitive actor. A large part of her performance came from her “compatibility” with the role; she would live as the character during the filming, with every move and action being “her.”

Xin Keke didn’t ‘perform a role’, she ‘became the role.’

Su Mi sighed. At this point, she had no choice but to bite the bullet. Fortunately, she had rejected the female lead role from the beginning; otherwise, she didn’t know how others would be cursing her lack of talent behind her back.

Thankfully, no one has misunderstood me yet…

At the thought of the word “misunderstanding,” Su Mi’s mood grew heavy. The misunderstanding between her and Xin Keke had yet to be resolved. She still hadn’t figured out how to explain the safflower oil incident to Xin Keke. Although Xin Keke kept saying “it’s fine” on the surface, her expression and indifferent reactions made it clear that she was truly angry.

Sigh, I suppose it’s my fault. Even though her grandmother had taught her to do it that way when she was little—and Su Mi had never questioned the elderly woman’s methods—it was now being interpreted as a deliberate ploy to mess with Xin Keke.

“Ugh…”

Su Mi buried her head in the pillow, feeling as if her life were plunged into darkness. But if I don’t dare to face the difficulties, I’ll never be able to take the next step!

With this thought, Su Mi suddenly found strength. She hopped off the bed, prepared herself, and began practicing tomorrow’s lines alone.

“Ha! I told you long ago that Wei Minghui doesn’t look like good news.”

Immerse yourself, immerse yourself, immerse yourself… imagine, imagine, imagine…

Yeah! Let’s project this onto my real life—hearing my old best friend ignore my advice and insist on getting back together with a toxic, abusive ex-girlfriend!

Recalling that incident made Su Mi so angry that her lines took on genuine emotion: “How many times have I told you? You wouldn’t listen to me before, and look what happened? Aren’t you just being played like a fool by him/her?!”

Thinking of what happened to her best friend gave Su Mi a sense of reality. She furrowed her brows, trying hard to release her emotions: “He/she hurt you once, he/she could hurt you a second time. Why are you always so obsessed and unwilling to listen?”

Su Mi was so lost in the emotion that she didn’t even hear the beep behind her. It wasn’t until she finished the entire section of dialogue that she felt a draft.

It was chilly.

Su Mi turned around.

Xin Keke had returned at some point and was currently standing behind her, watching. Su Mi felt like a colleague had walked in on her looking at something scandalous. Her eyes widened as she looked at Xin Keke: “You… you’re back…”

Her voice trembled with embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Xin Keke clearly didn’t want to engage with Su Mi; she walked into the room with her small bag on her back. “You’re done practicing? Can I come in now?”

“Ah, oh…”

Su Mi scrambled to clear the way so Xin Keke could enter. Her brain, stuck in “system error” mode, took a full minute to process. She tried to scurry over to Xin Keke’s side, but Xin Keke ignored her. It was obvious she was still angry.

Su Mi put on a shameless smile, reaching out to grab the corner of Xin Keke’s garment: “About yesterday, I really didn’t mean it. Please don’t be mad at me, okay?”

But before her fingers could touch the fabric, Xin Keke dodged with remarkable speed: “We had a ‘Three-Point Covenant,’ remember?”

“…Oh.”

Fine, fine. If you don’t want me to touch you, I won’t.

“So, can you not be mad anymore?” Su Mi tilted her head, constantly scanning Xin Keke’s expression.

Unfortunately, the girl showed no emotion—no anger, no disgust, just cold detachment. That was it.

“I’m not mad.”

When she said this, Xin Keke didn’t even look at Su Mi. She was focused on organizing the clothes in her suitcase: “Don’t overthink it.”

…She’s telling me not to overthink it!

She hadn’t felt this while reading the book, but Xin Keke turned out to be such a difficult girl to appease. Su Mi was nearly in tears as she scrambled to explain: “Xin Keke, listen to me. My grandmother really taught me that way since I was a kid. I wasn’t trying to mess with you or anything… can’t you just trust me once?”

She finished speaking, but the girl in front of her didn’t react. Su Mi looked at her, feeling uneasy.

Suddenly, Xin Keke placed the clothes she was holding onto the bed and finally looked her straight in the eye. Just as Su Mi started to speak, she heard Xin Keke reel off a long string of words:

“I don’t know what you see in me. Maybe you think my background is funny, or maybe it’s because I don’t do everything you say or cater to your ‘rich girl’ tantrums, so you have to toy with me again and again, right?”

“Your grandmother is the well-known President Huo of the Jiancheng Group. How would a family like yours ever use this kind of medicine?” Xin Keke’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was aggressive. “And even if she didn’t know the proper way to use it, wouldn’t the private doctors around her know? How could they teach you the wrong method?”

Su Mi’s eyes widened.

It’s over. Xin Keke had clearly mistaken the grandmother Su Mi mentioned for the original character’s grandmother. Su Mi didn’t know how to explain to Xin Keke that she was a transmigrator. It was as if all her grievances had been blocked by Xin Keke’s single paragraph. She helplessly held her forehead, weakly defending herself: “It’s not like that… I can’t explain it clearly right now, but please believe me, okay?”

“Oh.”

Xin Keke nodded and went back to organizing her clothes. Su Mi stood beside her, unsure if she should say it one last time or just leave. Before she could decide, Xin Keke spoke again: “You’re the one who asked the director to add those scenes?”

She placed the emphasis on “you.”

“…”

Su Mi heard a thud sound in the bottom of her heart. It was as if a piece of her flesh had been torn away and slammed onto the ground. Even if Su Mi didn’t want to speculate, Xin Keke’s subtext was laid out on the table for all to see. Mentioning the original grandmother, then mentioning the added scenes—it was clear Xin Keke suspected she had demanded the additions.

They had fought, and the added scenes happened to be between Yuan Yuan and Bo Xiaoling. Through the director’s hand, they could both get more screen time and work together. And she could even use it to “sell” a favor to Xin Keke.

All afternoon, Su Mi had tossed and turned, trying to figure out how to play the role of Bo Xiaoling, without thinking about this angle at all. But Xin Keke’s simple sentence plunged Su Mi into self-doubt.

Is everything I’m doing right now… useless?

Is it useless to try to be good to someone who already dislikes you?

No matter how I change, no matter how much I give, will they believe me?

The answer was clear. Even though they had been through some things, the moment a conflict arose, Su Mi’s sincerity was still questioned by Xin Keke. At that moment, Su Mi felt an unprecedented sense of exhaustion.

“It wasn’t me. The director wanted to add them himself this afternoon.” Su Mi suddenly lost all strength to argue. She lowered her eyes, no longer wanting to tangle with Xin Keke: “Believe it or not, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to perform them, go tell the director to cancel them. That’s for the best—I don’t want to do them anyway.”

She turned around, grabbed her key card, and hurried out of the room.

“…”

Behind her, Xin Keke tightened her arms around the clothes she was holding. She opened her mouth, but to Su Mi’s retreating figure, she said nothing.

Su Mi arrived at the man-made lake behind the hotel with a heavy heart. Dusk was approaching; the days had been getting shorter lately, and the streetlights around the lake were already on before 6:00 PM. The dim, yellow light cast a lonely shadow of Su Mi on the ground.

She felt miserable. She had left in such a hurry that she forgot her phone. She would need to eat later, but she didn’t want to face Xin Keke in the room. Should I go ask Ye Luo or Xiao Ai to share a meal? Or should I be shameless and go find Shi Yaya? After all, she got to use me for free all Sunday, it’s time she bled a little.

But no matter what she did, she’d likely be asked why she wasn’t with Xin Keke…

Su Mi kicked a small stone, listening as it landed in the water with a plop. She wandered aimlessly, without a destination, without a single thought in her head.

A thought flashed through Su Mi’s mind: “What if I just… give up?”

If it was truly impossible to get along with Xin Keke, why not just stay in this world for the rest of her life? The original host’s family was rich enough; she wasn’t going to starve. Can’t I just rot in this world? Su Mi thought dejectedly.

Her stomach was starting to growl. Although actresses were supposed to keep their figures, Su Mi hadn’t missed a single meal since she arrived. Perhaps due to the novel’s world-buff, she hadn’t gained any weight.

Now, penniless, hungry, and unwilling to return to the room to get her phone, she ended up pacing around the lake multiple times to vent her frustration. She didn’t know what time it was. The sky darkened rapidly, shifting from the dimness of twilight into pure black.

Instead of disappearing, her hunger grew stronger and stronger. Finally, holding her growling stomach, Su Mi squatted down by the road, feeling incredibly emo.

Why didn’t I bring my phone… I’m such an idiot…

At this moment, Su Mi cared nothing for her image, hunched by the lake in a classic “peasant squat.” She let out a long sigh, ignoring the passing pedestrians, and buried her face in her arms.

“Aaaaaahhhhh”

She let out a self-abandoned, low-volume cry.

“What am I supposed to do…”

However, with her vision cut off, her hearing became acute. After squatting for a while, she heard footsteps stop beside her.

They felt familiar.

Just as she was wondering if she had run into Ye Luo and Xiao Ai, Su Mi lifted her irritable head, only to see Xin Keke’s face under the orange glow of the streetlight.

The girl was biting her lip, her gaze shifting away the moment she met Su Mi’s.

She held out her hand to Su Mi.

In it, was Su Mi’s phone.