Transmigrated as the Scumbag Alpha of a Cold Movie Queen - Chapter 112 EXTRA 12

“I was thinking about how we could show off our love,” Qi Siyu admitted quietly, as if confessing to a minor crime.

“Oh? And have you figured out how you want to show it off?” Gu Qing’s tone was as serious as a strict homeroom teacher during an exam. She wasn’t about to punish Qi Siyu for a bad answer… but she might tease her mercilessly.

Qi Siyu licked her lips and glanced sideways at Gu Qing’s fingers. “Just… you know, the usual things couples do.”

Like accidentally-on-purpose revealing couple accessories, leaning close and brushing against each other, feeding each other bites of food, drinking from the same straw, naturally fixing each other’s clothes…

Too many possibilities to count. Just thinking about doing those things in front of the cameras made Qi Siyu blush.

She’d always been on the conservative side, but the thought of showing public affection—declaring her claim—was oddly thrilling.

“Speaking of which, I don’t think we have many couple accessories. Just rings, bracelets, bow ties, and pins…” Qi Siyu ticked them off on her fingers. “Oh! We don’t have matching sports bands. Running a snack stall will be exhausting—if we had them, we could keep track of our health too.”

Gu Qing watched as Qi Siyu pulled out her phone, opened a foreign shopping app, and in seconds filled the screen with over two pages of matching fitness bands. “Gu Qing, look—pick the one you like.”

Qi Siyu stole a glance at her, and when she caught a hint of surprise in Gu Qing’s eyes, she grinned sheepishly. “Hehe… whenever I open the app and see something for couples, I just save it.”

“This one.” Gu Qing’s fingertip tapped the screen.

“Got it.” Qi Siyu quickly filled in the shipping address, ready for doorstep delivery.

They ate lunch out again—couldn’t come all this way without sampling the local specialties.

In the afternoon, the “celebrity-and-singer-turned-street-food-vendor” transformation began.

Well… not even real vendors—more like assistants at best.

Qi Siyu knew her own limits. Even frying something as simple as a starch sausage made her nervous.

Along with a grill thermometer, she prepared a tiny timer for each sausage, flipping them exactly as the instructor had demonstrated—every X seconds, without fail.

The other three all had decent cooking skills and barely needed instruction. After a quick token practice, they gathered around to watch Qi Siyu fry her sausages.

“Hahahahaha! You really are something else. I’ve never seen anyone do it like this,” Niu Wenrui chuckled at the sight of Qi Siyu staring down her sausages like a soldier defusing bombs.

“She’s got the spirit of a researcher—pays attention to the details,” Gu Qing said with a perfectly straight face, her praise so forced it made Qi Siyu curl her toes.

Still, Qi Siyu wasn’t about to ruin her stage partner’s act. She nodded seriously. “Exactly. This way my sausages will be perfect—crispy and fragrant outside, soft and tender inside.”

“Hahahaha!” Niu Wenrui laughed so hard she clutched her stomach, tears in her eyes. “And when it comes time to season them? Are you going to weigh out the spices to the gram?”

She glanced around but saw no kitchen scale.

“Dummy. The customers season them themselves,” Qi Siyu said smugly. “We’re all about personalized, self-service care.”

“Alright, alright—you win. I’m impressed!” Niu Wenrui made a mock fist-and-palm salute.

In variety shows, exaggeration was the name of the game. But sometimes, genuine reactions—like Qi Siyu’s—were even better.

Before Niu Wenrui could lower her hands, all six of Qi Siyu’s timers went off in rapid succession.

Qi Siyu’s eyes went wide. She rushed to flip each sausage and start the next round of timing.

Something that should have been calm and easy turned into chaos—her own fault for piling on the pressure.

One unfortunate timer got stuck to her hand and was unceremoniously dropped into the oil.

“Ahhh! Why is this happening?!” Qi Siyu cried, clutching her hair in despair.

Gu Qing swiftly rescued the timer with a pair of tongs, setting it aside before helping her flip the sausages. “I’ll glue the timers in place later. Next time, space out the batches more.”

Qi Siyu stared at her, eyes sparkling. “Good thing I have you.”

Gu Qing glanced at her, smiling faintly, but said nothing.

The afternoon passed in Qi Siyu’s relentless practice. She even drilled brushing sauces and sprinkling cumin, chili, and sesame—just in case a customer didn’t want to season it themselves.

Dinner that night was their own handiwork—mostly starch sausages, given that Qi Siyu had gone through more than half a crate. Even the director’s team ate the same.

“I feel like I’ve leveled up. I bet I could even do teppanyaki tofu or squid now,” Qi Siyu declared mid-bite.

“Oh, please. If you cooked squid, would you get a pressure gauge to measure exactly how much force to use? Hahaha,” Niu Wenrui teased.

“Shows what you know. There are tools with pressure sensors—red light means too much, yellow means too little. They even check doneness for the perfect flavor,” Qi Siyu said, arms crossed in pride.

“Unbelievable.” Even Tang Lingxiao was laughing, and Gu Qing’s eyes curved with amusement.

Tang Lingxiao shook her head. “Why do you kitchen disasters do this to yourselves?”

“It’s called courage,” Qi Siyu replied with righteous confidence.

The next morning, they rose early for opening day.

“These uniforms are actually cute. Look at this embroidery—Gu Qing, what’s yours?” Qi Siyu asked, unwrapping her outfit.

“A cat wearing a chef’s hat, with a starch sausage wrapped around its tail,” Gu Qing replied, shaking out the white coat. Even the cuffs were decorated.

“I’ve got a puppy balancing an egg burger on its head. Did they swap ours by mistake?” Qi Siyu held them side by side. “But hey, the sizes are right.”

“Wait a second—the show’s being cheeky. Your coat has me, and mine has you. Totally couple-coded,” Qi Siyu said happily as she put hers on.

“Mhm. I have you in my heart too,” Gu Qing said evenly.

“Ahhh! Why would you suddenly say something like that?” Qi Siyu fanned her face. “I think I’m blushing again.”

Gu Qing tilted her chin up, studying her. “Like a ripe red apple—irresistible.”

She leaned in and gave a light bite, leaving a faint mark.

Qi Siyu: “!”

“Hey! We’re about to head out! Taking advantage of me ‘cause I don’t have time to retaliate, huh?” Qi Siyu huffed, planting a quick kiss on Gu Qing’s cheek in return.

Gu Qing chuckled softly. “Desensitization training.”

“But even after all these years, it still gets to me,” Qi Siyu mumbled shyly. Despite their time together, they were still in that heady first-love stage.

“Mhm. Very cute.” Gu Qing nodded as if confirming an important fact. “Come on—I hear Niu Wenrui downstairs.”

“You go first. I need to splash some water on my face.” It wasn’t just blushing—Gu Qing’s bite had flipped a switch inside her.

Her canines tingled with the urge to sink into Gu Qing’s gland.

“Alright.” Gu Qing walked out as if she hadn’t noticed a thing.

Qi Siyu ground her teeth—she was definitely doing it on purpose.

After a cold face wash to tamp down the heat, she headed downstairs. They had assumed the customers would mostly be local fans, with maybe a few rich “sponsor” fans traveling in.

Instead, when they opened the street-facing doors, a crowd of foreign faces greeted them—many holding Gu Qing’s banners and lightboards.

“Oh, right—didn’t you have a film here last year?” Niu Wenrui said, catching on immediately.

“Yeah, and it’s being re-released,” Qi Siyu answered, beaming at Gu Qing. “Of course—it’s you, Teacher Gu.”

“Thanks to you,” Gu Qing said sincerely. Without Qi Siyu, she wouldn’t be here enjoying this success.

There was no time for sentiment—they had snacks to make, photos to take, and autographs to sign.

Qi Siyu sneakily rolled up her sleeves to show off the matching fitness band that had arrived last night. She even tugged up Gu Qing’s sleeve to make sure people saw.

Unfortunately, the design was so common no one noticed her subtle flex. She sulked for a moment—until the arrival of CP fans cheered her back up.

One teenage girl shyly asked for a photo—with herself standing between them.

“I’m actually a ‘daughter fan,’” she confessed.

“Huh? What’s that?” Qi Siyu blinked.

“Hahaha—it means she wants to be your daughter,” Niu Wenrui explained. “Think about it—being the kid of either of you would be a dream. Being the kid of both? That’s like winning the reincarnation lottery.”

“Oh wow.” Qi Siyu laughed. “Guess I’m behind on fan culture. Your family doesn’t mind?”

“Of course not—my mom even wants to be the elder daughter. Only my grandma objects, so I came alone,” the girl said proudly.

It was just a bit of harmless fantasy, so they humored her and took a family-style photo.

By mid-afternoon, they’d run out of ingredients and had to close up.

They collapsed into rocking chairs while the show’s hired masseurs worked on them.

“You two are trending,” Niu Wenrui announced between giggles. “That fan posted your photo, and now your ‘kids’ are queued up to number over a hundred thousand in the comments.”

“They’re adorable. I’ll have to send them New Year’s money,” Qi Siyu said, scrolling through her phone. “Gu Qing—look! She only Photoshopped herself. She didn’t even remove the smudge on my face. Such an unfilial child.”

“You look good even with the smudge,” Gu Qing said lightly.

Qi Siyu laughed. “Alright, she’s forgiven then.”

“So, when are you two planning to have kids?” Niu Wenrui suddenly asked. “We’re pushing forty and already preparing.”

Qi Siyu and Gu Qing exchanged a glance before Qi Siyu smiled. “We already have so many lovely daughters—why give birth to more?”

“You’re still young—your thoughts will change,” Niu Wenrui said. “We wanted just the two of us too, but as we got older, it felt too quiet, so we decided to try.”

“Haha, maybe we’ll change someday. But right now, we just want it to be the two of us,” Qi Siyu said casually. Outsiders didn’t need to know the truth.

After all, they’d be leaving eventually—what kind of life would that leave a child?

But that night, Qi Siyu tossed and turned.

“What’s wrong?” Gu Qing asked gently.

Qi Siyu flipped over and straddled her.

She’d always assumed, from her own perspective, that they couldn’t have children.

But what about Gu Qing?

As an Omega in this world, someone who’d grown up with little family, would she want a child to carry on her bloodline?

In the deep darkness of the room, they could barely make out each other’s expressions.

“Have you… ever wanted kids?” Qi Siyu asked, her voice tight.

“No,” Gu Qing replied without hesitation. “I only want you. I only want to live in our own little world.”