Transmigrated as the Scumbag Alpha of a Cold Movie Queen - Chapter 103 EXTRA 3

In a daze, Qi Siyu drifted upstairs to her own apartment and flopped onto the sofa like a pancake, staring blankly at the ceiling.

It wasn’t until Shi Ying came in that Qi Siyu finally sat up.

“Looking like that… don’t tell me Gu Qing turned you down?” Shi Ying asked, genuinely curious. After all, Gu Qing’s conditions far outstripped most people’s—locking her in for a contract would almost guarantee a big break.

Shi Ying had sent Qi Siyu several messages with no reply, so she’d come over in person.

“No. The contract’s signed,” Qi Siyu sighed.

Shi Ying: “?”

She picked up the contract from the coffee table and flipped through it. Sure enough, it was signed. “Then what are you sighing for? Scared me half to death.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Qi Siyu let out another sigh. Not only had Gu Qing caught her using a flimsy excuse, but the scent of her pheromones and the fleeting glimpses she’d gotten… left Qi Siyu feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

Ever since meeting Gu Qing, she felt as though she was developing… unhealthy tendencies.

Shi Ying clicked her tongue. “Fine, fine. You’re the only enlightened one here, Your Majesty of Understanding. I’ll go, you sit here and sigh to your heart’s content.”

She set the contract back on the table without fully closing it, leaving the signature page visible.

Qi Siyu’s fingers brushed over Gu Qing’s name. The handwriting looked so familiar—like she’d seen it countless times before.

She pulled a pad and pen from the coffee table drawer, intending to write a few lines to calm her mind. But when she glanced down again, the page was covered with the words “Gu Qing.”

And the writing looked almost identical to Gu Qing’s.

She quickly scribbled a few other words—those looked exactly like her usual handwriting.

A puzzle she couldn’t solve. Even in her dreams lately, it all seemed to lead back to this.

________________________________________

The next morning, unusually for her, Qi Siyu slept in. She hurried through washing up, changed into her workout clothes, and went downstairs—only to step outside and find it pouring.

The sky was so overcast it looked like night, the rain heavy and relentless, drumming on everything.

She held out her hand to test it; within seconds her palm was soaked, each drop striking with a faint sting. She pulled it back quickly.

No run yesterday, and now today’s ruined too. A quick glance at the forecast told her it would rain for several days straight.

She wasn’t usually this disciplined—more of a “three days fishing, two days drying the nets” type. But running with Gu Qing, she hadn’t missed a day in over ten.

Resigned, she turned to go back inside—only to spot a figure running through the rain.

It was Gu Qing.

She was soaked through, rainwater plastering her hair to her cheeks, giving her a fragile, almost broken look.

But Gu Qing herself remained calm, not the least bit flustered or irritable.

“How did you get this drenched? Hurry, change your clothes and have some hot ginger tea.” Qi Siyu rushed to press the elevator button.

The elevator was coming down from the top floors.

“I stepped outside and realized I forgot my keys. Thought I’d go to the property office for a spare, but they weren’t open yet. Then it started raining on my way back,” Gu Qing explained lightly.

Qi Siyu’s finger moved from 28 to 29. “Come to my place and take a shower first. It’s chilly out—you’ll catch a cold.”

“Thank you.” Gu Qing didn’t refuse.

“The red button raises the temperature, green lowers it, yellow’s the power. Shampoo and body wash are here. Put your clothes in the laundry basket. You go ahead—I’ll find you something to wear.” Qi Siyu rattled off instructions and left the bathroom.

“Alright,” Gu Qing replied.

The moment Qi Siyu closed the door, the sound of the shower filled the air—water cascading down, the rhythm far more pleasant than the rain outside.

It beat against her heart, making it itch.

Realizing where her thoughts were straying, Qi Siyu quickly fled to the walk-in closet.

Brand-new clothes were scarce; there were plenty she’d worn once or twice but washed, and many well-worn but clean pieces.

After a short struggle, reason triumphed over less wholesome urges—she chose a brand-new set.

Clothes sorted, she headed into the kitchen. She wasn’t much of a cook, but making brown sugar ginger tea was simple enough.

She boiled a strong pot, then diluted it with cool purified water until it was at the perfect temperature.

A taste test—plenty of ginger bite.

She rummaged through the medicine cabinet, certain she had some cold-prevention tablets, but couldn’t find them.

Knock knock knock.

She froze, then remembered—she’d forgotten to bring the clothes into the bathroom.

“Coming!” Qi Siyu hurried over.

The door opened a crack, releasing a wave of steam and the faint scent of body wash… with a whisper of red wine.

Light, but intoxicating.

A slender, beautiful hand reached through the gap, pale wrist almost glowing.

Qi Siyu placed the clothes into her hand.

But with so many items, Gu Qing didn’t quite catch them—Qi Siyu instinctively reached out to steady them.

Their hands brushed for only a moment, but Qi Siyu’s heart pounded like a drum.

Soft, warm, delicate… the sensation imprinted itself in her mind.

Rustling came from inside. Soon the door opened fully.

Gu Qing stood there in a white shirt and track pants. The clothes were a size too big—Qi Siyu’s own preference for loose fits—making Gu Qing look smaller, almost delicate enough to scoop into her arms.

“Do you have a hairdryer?” Gu Qing asked.

“Yes, yes—hold on.” Qi Siyu darted into her bedroom’s bathroom.

The door to the main bathroom wasn’t closed, so from where she stood, Qi Siyu could see Gu Qing in profile—head bowed, glossy black hair lifting in the warm air, slender pale fingers combing through it. A picture come to life.

Qi Siyu couldn’t help herself—she raised her camera and clicked.

Afterward, guilt prickled at her. She fidgeted like someone hiding a misdeed, torn between confessing and staying silent.

At some point, the hum of the dryer stopped. The room was quiet but for her own heartbeat.

Gu Qing walked over.

Qi Siyu worried her lower lip.

“You’ll make your lip swell,” Gu Qing said mildly.

“Ahem.” Qi Siyu held out the camera. “You just looked… really beautiful, so I took a picture.”

“Thank you. You took it well.” Gu Qing replied.

“Ah—uh, you’re welcome.” Qi Siyu hadn’t expected praise, and felt a little shy. “I’ll send it to you.”

“Alright.” Gu Qing said.

“Oh—right. Have some ginger tea.” Qi Siyu brought over a bowl, perfectly warm. “Drink up. I’ll keep looking for that medicine—I know I have some for preventing colds.”

“Thank you,” Gu Qing said again.

The polite “thank you” felt distant somehow, but since they weren’t even close friends yet, she let it slide.

…Maybe they could start by becoming friends. They’d be working together for months, and Qi Siyu didn’t want to keep second-guessing herself.

Once she’d made up her mind, her luck seemed to turn—she spotted the medicine box’s corner in the pile she’d pulled out earlier.

Still in date. She popped out two tablets and handed them over. “Two pills at a time, before meals, three times a day.”

“You’re very kind,” Gu Qing said simply, the sincerity in her tone undeniable.

Qi Siyu’s cheeks heated. Unsure how to respond, she just murmured, “Thanks.”

After finishing the tea and medicine, Gu Qing borrowed her phone to call the property office—she never took her phone when running.

They’d just opened and soon arrived with a locksmith.

At her door, Gu Qing told Qi Siyu, “I’ll wash the clothes and bring them back to you.”

“Mm.” That mention of clothes jogged Qi Siyu’s memory—had Gu Qing left her running gear in the bathroom?

She rushed home, went straight to the bathroom, and found them in the laundry basket—running clothes, long-sleeved base layer, long pants… and the edge of a bra and panties.

One glance was all she dared before fleeing as if chased.

“You filming a horror flick in the bathroom?” Shi Ying asked, walking in with breakfast.

Qi Siyu’s face was red as a beet, breath coming fast. She ignored her.

Shi Ying arched a brow and strode toward the bathroom. “What, hiding someone in here?”

Qi Siyu’s reflexes beat her brain—she grabbed Shi Ying’s arm, shoved her back, and shut the door. “What’s wrong with you? Bringing breakfast into the bathroom—are you a pervert?”

“Definitely something fishy,” Shi Ying declared.

“Sit down. I’m starving.” Qi Siyu dragged her to the table. “It’s takeout.”

“Yeah, from my special someone. Didn’t want me to get caught in the rain, so she splurged on door-to-door delivery.” Shi Ying smirked.

Qi Siyu snorted dismissively and dug in, letting Shi Ying preen.

Halfway through, her thoughts drifted to Gu Qing—had she eaten breakfast yet?

She vaguely remembered Gu Qing once grabbing breakfast from a street stall. Didn’t seem like the type to cook…

Once a thought lodged in her mind, it gnawed at her until she had to check.

She swallowed the last shrimp dumpling, rummaged through the freezer, and found two packs of wontons.

If she had food to offer, fine. But if she asked and Gu Qing had nothing, with no solution in hand—that’d be embarrassing.

She opened her phone, drafting a message that would sound caring but not cloying—

Her phone buzzed. A WeChat notification from Gu Qing.

Have you eaten yet? If not, I made tomato and egg noodles.

Attached was a photo—golden scrambled egg, bright red tomato, a sprinkle of fresh green scallions atop tender noodles.

The colors were vivid, the sight mouthwatering.

No, I’ll come down right now.

After replying, Qi Siyu told Shi Ying, “Gu Qing invited me for tomato and egg noodles. I’m heading down.”

“What? You’re ditching my pricey breakfast spread for that? Bring her up here—there’s enough for three.” Shi Ying looked baffled.

“You don’t understand! She made it herself!” Qi Siyu bolted out the door before Shi Ying could get another word in.

Shi Ying looked at the untouched spread and clicked her tongue. “No taste at all… more for me.”