Transmigrated as the Scumbag Alpha of a Cold Movie Queen - Chapter 110 EXTRA 10

As time passed, the film crew’s work progressed steadily, and Gu Qing’s energy collection made a huge leap forward.

Finally, the system notified her:

[Energy levels sufficient. You can now start the lottery draw. But the draw must be initiated by the host personally—neither I nor anyone else can do it for you.]

“You had her do it before. Just do the same thing now,” Gu Qing said coolly.

The same? Impossible! the system grumbled internally. Last time, she’d died suddenly and transmigrated—this time, Qi Siyu is alive and well, with no ticking time-bomb of an original novel ending looming over her.

“Cheating and trickery. I thought you were an expert,” Gu Qing remarked in an even tone, though the system could feel the sting of mockery in her words.

Fine, fine, mock me all you want. The great system can overlook petty slights… humph.

[I can disguise the draw as a webpage on a tablet. You just have her tap it, okay?]

“Fine,” Gu Qing approved.

When Qi Siyu learned Gu Qing wanted her help for a “lottery draw,” she was stunned.

“But I’m cursed with bad luck—legendary ‘chief of misfortune.’ If you send me to Africa, I could be chief of the unluckiest tribe there. You really want me to draw? We’ll definitely get trash.”

“There’s a guaranteed prize,” Gu Qing said evenly, handing her the tablet.

Qi Siyu peered at the screen. “This webpage looks so cheap. What kind of game is this?”

“Draw,” Gu Qing ordered.

Qi Siyu flinched. Her brain hadn’t even processed it before her hand had already moved to tap the tablet.

Muscle memory. Terrifying indeed.

Special effects flashed across the screen—part of the system’s theatrics.

“This feels weird… these effects look 3D, like they’re right in front of me…” Qi Siyu murmured.

The prize the system had selected was quietly diverted and directly infused into Qi Siyu.

She collapsed.

Gu Qing moved quickly, catching her before she hit the ground.

[Uh—this is normal! Years of memories flooding back is a huge burden on the body.] The system hurried to explain.

“Say that earlier next time,” Gu Qing said with a slight headache. It was noon now; they still had shoots scheduled for the afternoon and evening, but the director had just passed out.

“When will she wake up?”

[… Anywhere from one to three days…] the system replied weakly.

Taking a deep breath, Gu Qing moved Qi Siyu onto a chair, then called for help. Together, they got her back to the hotel.

She coordinated with the assistant director—scenes the AD could handle would be shot in Qi Siyu’s stead; the rest would be postponed.

Publicly, Gu Qing said Qi Siyu had fainted from seeing blood. Privately, she didn’t make anything up—if her parents didn’t know, she’d just rest at the hotel. If they did know, send her to the hospital; nothing would show up anyway.

It would be just like the last time she’d “returned” from the dead—except now, there might be even more speculation.

No matter what, Gu Qing’s mood was bright. Her Qi Siyu would be back soon.

And indeed, Qi Siyu was considerate enough not to keep her waiting long. She woke much sooner than the system predicted—by the next dawn.

When she opened her eyes, she was still a little dazed, but joy and guilt quickly took over.

How could she have lost her memory and left Gu Qing alone in an unfamiliar place? She must have been so lost and helpless… that was just awful of her.

In the dim light, Qi Siyu traced Gu Qing’s features with her eyes, then couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the corner of her eye.

Thank goodness—even without her memories, she’d still fallen for Gu Qing in no time.

She wriggled closer, curling up beside Gu Qing and wrapping her in her arms. The two of them lay pressed together, warmth flowing between them.

But staying like this too long was dangerous—it was easy to get carried away. Not wanting to disturb Gu Qing’s sleep, Qi Siyu decided to distract herself.

[System, what’s the meaning of this?! You never told me it would feel like this!]

[Pure accident, host! Nothing to do with me!] the system protested. After so long apart, shouldn’t we be hugging and crying in reunion? You’re way too cold-hearted.

[Tch. I have no such feelings for you. Accident or not, a problem’s a problem. How are you going to compensate me?]

Grudgingly, the system admitted there was compensation from above, but if Qi Siyu didn’t ask, it could pocket it quietly.

[Looks like there is compensation. Don’t hand it over and I’ll report you.] Qi Siyu threatened with practiced ease—after working together this long, she knew exactly how the system operated.
[Fine, fine. Here—you can choose from these. I recommend the ‘Wedding Photos Across Nine Worlds.’ You can travel, honeymoon, and take your wedding photos all at once.]

[Nine worlds to choose from—fantasy, xianxia, interstellar, wasteland… they even have a zombie apocalypse world?!] Qi Siyu was astonished. How does one take wedding photos in a zombie world?

[Relax, host. The Bureau will send professional stylists, makeup artists, and photographers. You’ll get stunning photos anywhere.]

[Alright, I’ll take that one.] After scrolling through the other options, Qi Siyu decided it really was the best choice.

[But you said random world-hopping can be dangerous. I’m not risking another memory wipe.] She was wary—she never wanted to forget Gu Qing again, even if she could remember later.

[Don’t worry—it’s only a consciousness projection. Totally different from actual world travel.] With the system’s guarantee, Qi Siyu let it go.

The next morning, she woke before the alarm.

Heh—time to give Gu Qing a personal wake-up service.

She waited until six o’clock on the dot, then planted a loud kiss on Gu Qing’s cheek.

Gu Qing’s eyes snapped open, sharp gray gaze cutting through the dimness—only to soften instantly when she saw Qi Siyu.

“Aww, I just started and you’re already awake,” Qi Siyu pouted.

“You’re back.” Gu Qing blinked, then reached up to touch her face. “You woke fast.”

“Mm, I remembered everything! I wanted to see you sooner. I’m sorry—I promised to introduce you to my hometown, but ended up making you come here alone.” Qi Siyu’s tone carried a tinge of sorrow.

“It’s not too late. I’m looking forward to it,” Gu Qing replied. The tension inside her finally eased, like a stone dropping from her heart.

Qi Siyu was straddling Gu Qing loosely, legs braced so as not to put weight on her.

Gu Qing wrapped her arms around Qi Siyu’s waist, gazing into her eyes. “I missed you.”

Having her physically there wasn’t enough—what Gu Qing had always needed was her, the one who loved her.

Qi Siyu lowered her head and kissed Gu Qing’s lips, slow and careful, her tenderness speaking for her feelings.

Breaths grew quick, lips and tongues entwined, their warmth blending.

In the end, Qi Siyu settled fully onto Gu Qing’s lap, hips rocking slightly, hands roaming with growing passion.

Their “morning exercise” cost them some time, leaving breakfast rushed.

The assistant director, who had enjoyed full authority for only half a day, reluctantly ceded the director’s seat back to Qi Siyu.

Glancing at the schedule, she quickly dove back into work.

With her memories restored, though, these scripts now felt strange.

If she’d returned with her memory intact, Qi Siyu wouldn’t have continued filming this drama at all—she’d have handed it to another director.

But she hadn’t expected amnesia, and now they were over halfway through, with Gu Qing as the female lead—so she had to push through.

“How would you feel, having no life of your own?” she asked Gu Qing over lunch.

“Terrible,” Gu Qing answered without hesitation.

“All the suffering is nothing,” she added quietly. “Only you are irreplaceable.”

Qi Siyu flushed. She was still so easily embarrassed. “Mm… me too.”

“At first, I hated the author of this novel—for making me such a despicable villain. But now, I think I should thank her. She’s basically our matchmaker.”

“I still don’t even know who she is,” Qi Siyu mused. Qi Siyi suddenly thought of the novel’s author. “The copyright contract was all mailed—we’ve never met.”

“Let the system find her, then. We can visit when we have time,” Gu Qing suggested, fully comfortable using the system as free labor.

The system sighed but got to work.

Soon, it reported back: pen name Yi Mengwu, real name Wu Mengmeng.

Qi Siyu frowned. “I don’t know her at all. Not the slightest impression.”

Gu Qing’s gaze sharpened. Hidden malice could sometimes be deadly. “Invite her to the wrap party. We’ll ask in person.”

“She’s apparently socially anxious—never shows up in person, even though we’re in the same city,” Qi Siyu recalled from an editor’s comment.

“Then we’ll visit directly when we can,” Gu Qing said after a pause. “And thank her, too.”

The invitation was declined. So—time to ambush her.

One sunny afternoon, Qi Siyu and Gu Qing arrived at Wu Mengmeng’s apartment complex. Conveniently, Qi Siyu owned a place there, so getting in was easy.

They sat shoulder-to-shoulder on a bench below the building, watching a movie on a phone, looking for all the world like a couple out for some fresh air and sunshine.

They’d just gotten absorbed in a classic film when—

“Huh? Qi Siyu, what are you doing here?” Gao Manyun’s voice interrupted them.

Qi Siyu looked up. The woman on Gao Manyun’s arm was exactly who they’d come to find—Wu Mengmeng.

At the sound of Qi Siyu’s name, Wu Mengmeng’s gaze flickered, meeting hers only for a moment before dropping away.

Well, case closed. Clearly Gao Manyun had badmouthed her, and Wu Mengmeng, as a “good friend,” had turned her into a villain in her novel. From Gao Manyun’s expression, she probably didn’t even know.

“I’m sitting outside my own building. Is that a problem?” Qi Siyu snorted.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a place here. Anyway, this is my best friend Wu Mengmeng—she’s a talented novelist. You should consider her copyrights someday,” Gao Manyun said brightly.

“Oh? What kind of works?” Qi Siyu asked with a sweet smile.

“Mainly xianxia,” Gao Manyun began, but Wu Mengmeng tugged on her arm, clearly wanting to leave. Gao Manyun quickly stopped talking. “Right, we’ve got something to do—let’s talk later on WeChat.”

“Sure.” Qi Siyu nodded, watching them walk away.

Once they were out of sight, she clenched her fist. “The villain in my next drama is going to be named Gao Manyun.”

Gu Qing’s lips curved. “A proper face-slapping drama, then.”

“Hahaha, exactly. And Wu Mengmeng can be a minor villain—after all, she’s technically our matchmaker.”

“Alright.” Gu Qing took her hand.

As long as they were together, everything would be fine.