Transmigrated as the Scumbag Alpha of a Cold Movie Queen - Chapter 34

Gu Qing went to the production team and explained the situation clearly.

Gao Zhonghai glanced at Qi Siyu, who had gone all quiet and clingy. This was not the same person who used to banter with him effortlessly—this timid little thing trailing behind Gu Qing didn’t resemble the sharp and confident President Qi at all.

“What did the doctor say? Are we sure she’s not aggressive?” Gao Zhonghai asked. His own daughter was also an Alpha—one of those crybaby types during susceptibility. Absolutely adorable. It was only during those rare times that her aloof daughter would let her, the mom, squeeze and coddle her.

Gu Qing nodded. “Director Gao, could you contact her assistant and have her temporarily withdraw from filming? I’d like to have my assistant come take care of me instead.”

“That won’t be easy,” Gao Zhonghai said. “You know we entered through a special channel—strictly regulated in and out. Without prior scheduling, leaving is difficult. But there’s a children’s amusement park nearby—one of our sponsor’s properties. How about spending the remaining day and a half live-streaming from there?”

Crybaby-type Alphas were the kind that tugged at everyone’s heartstrings—Gao Zhonghai didn’t want Qi Siyu missing this prime opportunity to spark some romance between the two of them.

Otherwise, once Qi Siyu’s susceptibility period passed, she’d probably come tearing out her hair.

Gu Qing frowned.

“I’ll assign you a filming director instead of the drone,” Gao Zhonghai said decisively. “She knows what should and shouldn’t be filmed, and she’ll look after President Qi.”

Gu Qing turned to Qi Siyu. “Do you want to leave or stay?”

Qi Siyu pouted, looking pitiful. “I want red wine chocolate biscuit sticks.”

Gu Qing closed her eyes for a moment. Damn this susceptibility period—how did it reduce an Alpha to… this?

She said nothing more. Qi Siyu must’ve had some kind of arrangement with the production team to be allowed to complete hidden tasks. They’d definitely look out for her.

After leaving the director’s monitoring room, the drone was replaced with a personal filming director. Gu Qing opened her phone to check the public livestream chat—everyone was asking if Qi Siyu was about to leave.

Gu Qing pinched her fingers together and said, “She won’t leave until tomorrow. Director Gao said it’s not a good time right now.”

Viewers were less worried about Qi Siyu and more concerned about Gu Qing’s safety. A susceptible Alpha was like a ticking time bomb—no one could predict when it might go off.

“The doctor said she’s not aggressive—she’s a crybaby-type during susceptibility. The production team will assign extra staff to keep an eye on her.”

As soon as Gu Qing said that, the viewers lit up with interest.

Oh my god—seeing someone like Qi Siyu, born with a silver spoon in her mouth, on camera was rare enough. But now they were going to witness a high-grade Alpha during susceptibility?

Until now, people had only seen that in sensational news reports—usually the aggressive types. When high-level Alphas suddenly entered their susceptibility periods, they could become dangerously violent and make headlines.

Gu Qing glanced at the top right corner of her screen. The live viewer count was skyrocketing—everyone loved a bit of elite family drama. But the real spectacle would be when Qi Siyu sobered up—total social death for someone like her.

It made sense that Director Gao wouldn’t let her leave. This program would stop at nothing for views.

“I want biscuit sticks, want biscuit sticks!” Qi Siyu grumbled, pouting again as she swatted Gu Qing’s phone out of her hand to demand attention.

Her eyes were clear and focused, her plea pure and persistent—like a little kid asking for candy. It was… adorable.

“Alright, I’ll buy you some,” Gu Qing said, her voice softening instinctively, as if she were speaking to a child.

The livestream comments erupted in laughter. If Qi Siyu were really a kid, this scene would be heartwarming.

Gu Qing coaxed her back into the suite and bought every flavor of biscuit sticks available on the production team’s sponsored shopping platform—except the chocolate ones.

Soon, biscuit boxes piled up on the dining table.

Qi Siyu’s eyes sparkled. She leaned over and began rummaging through the boxes, one by one, checking them all.

Then she pouted, and fat tears started rolling down her cheeks.

She said nothing, lips trembling, staring pitifully at Gu Qing.

The filming director immediately turned the camera away, focusing solely on Gu Qing.

Viewers in the livestream were panicking, spamming the chat begging for a close-up of Qi Siyu.

Gu Qing put down her phone and wheeled herself to Qi Siyu’s side. “What’s wrong?”

“M-my red wine chocolate biscuit sticks… They’re not here…” Qi Siyu was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe, her words broken up by hiccups and gasps.

Gu Qing picked up a matcha-flavored biscuit stick from the same brand and held it to her lips. “This one’s really tasty too. Try it?”

Qi Siyu tucked her hands behind her back, biting her lip and shaking her head, tears still falling.

Gu Qing glanced down. The carpet was soaked—her tears forming dark spots against the light-colored fibers.

She tore open the wrapper and gently pressed a biscuit stick to Qi Siyu’s lips. “Just try it.”

Qi Siyu, bless her, took a bite with a satisfying crunch. “Yummy.”

“But I still want red wine chocolate biscuit sticks…” She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Just a tiny bite, okay~?”

Her hands clutched the hem of her shirt tightly, knuckles turning white. Her voice, soft and pleading, dragged at Gu Qing’s heart.

Gu Qing was silent. This Qi Siyu was way too unfair.

“…Okay.”

But Qi Siyu didn’t celebrate just yet. “It has to be the real flavor, not something else.”

Gu Qing nodded. “Mm.”

She picked up her phone. The livestream chat was still buzzing with speculation—some viewers claiming that susceptibility periods exposed suppressed desires, and that President Qi must be really obsessed with red wine chocolate biscuit sticks.

How could someone fall in love with something they barely ate—and used to dislike?

Could this be a symptom of dissociative identity disorder?

That thought flitted across Gu Qing’s mind before she shoved it aside. Right now, the priority was calming Qi Siyu.

She ordered a box of regular biscuit sticks but asked the staff to repackage them as the red wine chocolate flavor.

When they arrived, Qi Siyu’s eyes lit up like stars. She bounced over to the staff, accepted the package with a polite “Thank you,” and tore it open excitedly.

She hesitated, sniffed it tentatively… Yes! It really smelled like red wine and chocolate.

One bite—and the rich flavor exploded in her mouth.

Her eyes squinted in satisfaction, her whole face blissed out.

But as soon as that bite went down, she forgot her promise of “just one bite” and started to stuff the rest of the sticks into her mouth.

Only, her hand stopped mid-air.

Qi Siyu looked down and saw Gu Qing’s pale, slender hand gripping her wrist.

“Just one bite,” Gu Qing said gently.

Qi Siyu pouted, tears forming again—but this time she didn’t cry. Instead, she leaned down and sniffed Gu Qing’s hand. “Smells so good… just like the biscuit.”

Gu Qing froze. She had masked the biscuit flavor using her own pheromones—and now, even her scent carried that rich red wine chocolate aroma.

“No,” she said, pulling her hand back. “Only this one.”

“Okay…” Qi Siyu nodded obediently and sat on the sofa, nibbling the biscuit in tiny bites like a well-behaved child.

Gu Qing fetched a damp, wrung-out towel from the bathroom and approached her. “Here, let me wipe your face.”

Qi Siyu closed her eyes and lifted her tear-streaked little face. “Thank you~”

The viewers were going crazy—she was too cute!

Gu Qing was stunned. She didn’t expect Qi Siyu to let her do it.

But since she was already in position, Gu Qing carefully began to clean her up.

Eyes first—the disaster zone. So many tear streaks to wipe.

Then her nose, cheeks, and finally her lips.

“All done.” Gu Qing breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She had experience caring for her younger brother, but that was over a decade ago—no wonder she was nervous.

“Thank you!” Qi Siyu said again. “Make it smell good again! I want to be wiped with the nice-smelling towel~”

Gu Qing’s tension shot right back up. She nodded. “I’ll go get it.”

“Yay!”

But even after eating the biscuit stick, Qi Siyu stuck to Gu Qing like a little tail, following her every step.

They and the filming director returned to Gu Qing’s bedroom, where the only available lotion was one provided by the show’s sponsor.

Gu Qing unscrewed the lid and handed it to Qi Siyu.

Qi Siyu leaned in for a sniff. “Doesn’t smell as nice as you.”

Gu Qing pursed her lips. “It still smells good. Use it.”

“Okay.” Qi Siyu scooped out a huge dollop.

“That’s too much,” Gu Qing warned.

“It’s fine, not too much,” Qi Siyu said as she turned her body, blocking Gu Qing from taking the lotion back.

She tried to rub it all over her face—but it wouldn’t blend in evenly.

Gu Qing winced and handed her a mirror. “Look. I told you—it’s too much.”

Qi Siyu pouted like a stubborn child. “It’s fine.”

Then, the next second—she smooshed her lotion-covered face against Gu Qing’s.

Left cheek. Right cheek. Rub rub.

The lotion was cold, but Gu Qing felt like her face was on fire.

She’d never been this close to anyone before.

“See? Now it’s not too much!” Qi Siyu admired her handiwork, but when she noticed Gu Qing’s silence, her voice softened with guilt. “I-I’m sleepy…”

She dove into bed, burying her head under the pillow.

Her legs dangled off the side, slippers falling off, revealing her sock-covered feet and pale ankles.

Like a mischievous child who knew when to stop, Gu Qing wheeled over and pulled the blanket over her. “Go to sleep.”

Hopefully for the rest of the afternoon.

Director Gao wanted them to stream at the amusement park, but Gu Qing wasn’t planning to go today. There was no mandatory rule, and leaving only increased the risk of accidents.

“I’m already asleep,” came a muffled voice from under the pillow.

This place smells so nice, Qi Siyu thought, breathing deeply through her nose.

“Mhm. Sleep,” Gu Qing said, closing the bedroom door.

Meanwhile, Director Gao had been keeping an eye on things. Seeing that Gu Qing wasn’t planning any big moves, he messaged her through the app:

[You’re almost out of Leisure Coins.]

Yesterday’s balance of 352 plus 66 from the blind box meant they had 418 total. Breakfast alone cost over 100 coins. After earning 80 from the custom task, Gu Qing had spent almost all the rest on snacks—only 32 coins left.

Dinner would definitely put them at the bottom of the rankings.

Gu Qing wasn’t worried. Director Gao didn’t know about the skill card she’d drawn.

She snapped a photo of it and sent it to him.

Gao Zhonghai: ???

[Your luck is insane.]

So it wasn’t Qi Siyu rigging the system—Gu Qing found that a bit unsettling. Her luck had never been good before.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have encountered Qi Siyu… or the Qi Siyu from before.

Gu Qing tapped her phone and exited the production group chat.

Though many viewers begged to see Qi Siyu, Gu Qing ignored it. She stayed in the living room, casually responding to fan comments.

Meanwhile, inside the bedroom, Qi Siyu was snuggled in a bed filled with the scent of red wine chocolate, hugging the soft blanket, and genuinely fast asleep.

When she woke up, the scent had faded.

Qi Siyu looked around in confusion. But the familiar Omega was nowhere in sight.

Then—

“WAAAHHHH—!”

The cry pierced the room, through the bedroom door, right into Gu Qing’s ears—and into the livestream chat.

【Sis, is that the kettle boiling?】

【Sounds like a rubber chicken scream!】

【Quick, go check! Might explode!】

【Betting it’s President Qi. Crybaby-type susceptibility is a hair-trigger.】

…

Gu Qing read a few comments, dropped her phone, and wheeled herself toward the bedroom.

The moment the door opened, a human cannonball launched itself at her—straight into her lap, carefully avoiding her legs.

“Waaah! Don’t leave me! I’m being good! Don’t abandon me…” Qi Siyu sobbed, trembling as she clung to Gu Qing’s shoulders.

The filming director wisely pointed the camera down at the wheels—viewers could only see the spotless floor.

They were outraged. They protested!

Some even stormed the show’s official site to file complaints. The drone was better! At least it gave them something!

Why call it a livestream if they couldn’t see anything?! They were willing to pay for VIP access—just let them watch!

Gu Qing’s stiff hand hovered midair before she finally patted Qi Siyu’s shoulder and said softly, “There, there. I didn’t go anywhere.”

She imagined herself acting a scene—playing the guardian of a clingy, emotionally fragile adult. That made it easier.

“I’ve been here the whole time. Just blocked by the door, that’s all.”

“Okay… but don’t leave, okay? I’ll be good,” Qi Siyu sniffled, still clutching Gu Qing’s shoulders while rubbing her face against her like a puppy.

“Not enough scent… want more… WAAAH—”

Gu Qing closed her eyes and released a bit of her pheromones.

Qi Siyu caught the scent and immediately brightened up, grinning from ear to ear.

She’s even dumber and more unruly than before her nap, Gu Qing thought, massaging her temples.

She was young, married, but had never actually experienced married life. Yet now she was getting a full taste of parenting a feral toddler.

She handed over a plushie the production team had delivered from a nearby mall—because no one expected a guest to actually buy toys. It was a lemon-themed plushie.

“For me?” Qi Siyu’s eyes lit up, though her hands were already hugging it tightly.

The lemon plush was small, about two palms tall, with googly grape-sized eyes and two felt leaves on top of its head.

“Thank you!”

Gu Qing said, “No need to thank me.”

“Smells good—” Qi Siyu hadn’t finished the sentence before Gu Qing discreetly laced the toy with a high concentration of her pheromones.

“Wow! Now it smells delicious!” Qi Siyu licked her lips, then buried her face in the plush, nuzzling it like a cat.

Gu Qing’s cheeks flushed. The sensation of Qi Siyu rubbing face cream on her came rushing back.

When the camera finally returned to them, Qi Siyu was gleefully playing with the lemon plushie, with no trace of her earlier meltdown.

Viewers were once again cursing the production team for withholding the good stuff. Where was the VIP experience they were promised?

Meanwhile, in another livestream, Sun Yingying caught wind of the chaos—an Alpha on Gu Qing’s team had entered a crybaby-type susceptibility period.

What fun.

She’d been struggling to find an excuse to approach President Qi. Now, the timing couldn’t be more perfect.