Transmigrated as the Scumbag Alpha of a Cold Movie Queen - Chapter 38

“Jiejie is yours,” Gu Qing stated calmly.

The teardrops brimming in Qi Siyu’s eyes disappeared in an instant.

“Hehehe, she’s mine!” Qi Siyu proudly declared to the other children.

The little ones had all been longing for the beautiful older sister. With just a few words, they quickly warmed up to Qi Siyu, and soon the group, toys in hand, rushed excitedly toward the Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Their task was to place their small toys into the proper compartments inside the dinosaur. If done correctly, the T-Rex would reward them.

Gu Qing watched as Qi Siyu eagerly ran ahead—only to turn back after a few steps and tug her along.

The sunlight today was gentle, and so was her mood.

Inside the T-Rex, Gu Qing encountered her first little troublemaker.

Qi Siyu had passed the dinosaur’s challenge with ease. As a reward, the park staff offered her ten mystery boxes to choose from.

Even in her “brain-fogged” susceptibility state, Qi Siyu remembered her cursed bad luck when it came to random draws. She generously gave the chance to one of the children.

The child hit the jackpot—pulling the rare hidden-edition T-Rex figure on the first try.

While everyone took turns admiring and touching the precious toy, the first “troublemaker” made her grand entrance.

This was Min Yuruo, the great-niece of Qi Siyu’s grandmother—on paper, completely unrelated to the Qi family. Qi Siyu had met her by chance while playing a game and had specifically invited her to play a “role.”

She was only seven years old, but already sly and clever with incredible acting chops.

Pointing at the rare dinosaur, Min Yuruo loudly demanded it. When her mother refused, she immediately dropped to the floor, kicking and screaming in a full-blown tantrum.

Gu Qing’s lips twitched slightly. Clearly, the little actress hadn’t rehearsed this part with her mother. The elegantly dressed woman stared in shock, as if wondering if her usually obedient daughter had been possessed by some mischievous spirit.

“There, there, baby, mommy will figure something out for you, okay? Please get up now,” Mrs. Min tried to rein in her daughter, but Yuruo twisted and thrashed like an eel—slippery and impossible to catch.

Qi Siyu’s eyes sparkled, and she began swaying slightly, clearly tempted to try rolling on the ground too—perhaps to see what made it so fun.

Gu Qing quickly pressed down on her hand. No way was she letting her add another entry to her growing list of online blackmail material.

Just as Gu Qing was about to demonstrate her “gentle approach” to handling spoiled kids, a second little terror joined the scene.

Kids love a crowd, and once people had gathered, another rascal inevitably followed the commotion.

This second child also spotted the rare T-Rex and started shrieking for it—louder and more piercing than Min Yuruo.

This one hadn’t been arranged by Qi Siyu. Her arrogance and aggressiveness were all too real—clearly a repeat offender.

Her parent was no better—a textbook “problem adult.” Without hesitation, the woman reached out to snatch the toy from the child who won it.

Thankfully, Qi Siyu was faster and quickly grabbed it back.

The woman was furious. “Can’t you see my kid wants it? She’s practically hoarse from crying! It’s just a toy—what’s the big deal? I’ll pay you, how much do you want?”

Qi Siyu responded with a disdainful “hetui!”—a sharp spit of contempt.

Then she rallied the children around her: “Everyone, say ‘hetui’ with me at this shameless auntie!”

All together: “Hetui!”

Even Min Yuruo nearly broke character and joined in.

Gu Qing cast a cold glance at the woman, her expression sharp as frost. Most people would shrink under that gaze—and this woman was no exception.

“Alright, alright, little lady. We’ll go buy a different mystery box, okay?” she coaxed her daughter.

But the little brat refused. Clinging to her mother’s arm, she bawled louder, “I want THIS one! Nothing else! You love me most, Mommy!”

Like she’d been shot full of steroids, the woman suddenly grew bold. “Give it here! Don’t be so full of yourself!”

In that moment, Gu Qing saw the shadow of her own pampered, tantrum-prone younger brother and the spineless parents who enabled him.

Qi Siyu’s plan for a touching “tame-the-wild-child” scene might go to waste. Gu Qing didn’t feel like being gentle anymore. She wanted nothing more than to silence this mother-daughter duo.

Her hand that was pressing Qi Siyu down now pulled her back behind the wheelchair. Gu Qing positioned herself firmly in front of the group.

With a frosty voice, she said, “You’d better shut up. We’re livestreaming.”

“Livestreaming?!” the woman shrieked, raising her voice. “Who gave you permission? You’re violating our image rights!”

Covering her child’s face with one hand, she lunged toward the camera. The crew quickly dodged. “Don’t worry, ma’am—non-participants are automatically blurred!”

Hearing this, she stopped attacking the camera—but turned and raised her fist at Gu Qing.

Unfazed, Gu Qing maneuvered her wheelchair and slipped past, causing the woman to trip over herself and collapse, clutching her ankle in exaggerated pain.

The little brat’s wailing intensified—what was once crocodile tears became genuine terror.

“Shut it,” Gu Qing snapped, her ash-gray eyes like ice rays.

The child instantly froze, too scared to make a sound.

“Jiejie, you’re so cool!” Qi Siyu clapped enthusiastically like a seal. The other kids joined in, cheering and clapping.

Gu Qing’s gaze swept over to Min Yuruo. Though it wasn’t directed at her, the little girl still felt the chill crawl down her spine.

She hiccupped, nearly crying. “I—I don’t want it anymore.”

Mrs. Min quickly led her over to apologize to Gu Qing and the others before beating a hasty retreat. Even with blurred faces, someone who knew them could still recognize them on the stream.

“Aaaahhhh,” Mrs. Min wailed internally. Her social reputation was about to go up in flames.

Meanwhile, the livestream viewers were full of commentary.

Haters jumped in to criticize Gu Qing, calling her rude and cold.

But they were immediately drowned out by regular viewers and fans alike. Gu Qing’s own fanbase hadn’t even started defending her yet—the anti-spoiled-child crowd had already exploded with support.

Gu Qing’s reputation shot up again.

According to Qi Siyu’s original plan, once Gu Qing had calmed the troublemaker, she would casually chat with her, asking why she seemed so experienced with unruly kids—naturally leading into her past.

But reality deviated wildly: Qi Siyu was still in her “mental toddler” phase, Gu Qing had gone full cold-blooded enforcer, even the child actress broke character and fled early. The whole scene was completely off-script.

And the shameless woman wasn’t finished yet. With a sly glint in her eye, she turned to the camera and started wailing about her injured ankle—accusing Gu Qing of assault and demanding compensation.

Gu Qing rubbed her temples. How could someone be both this stupid and this evil?

She called over the filming crew. “Please call the police.”

The amusement park had a police outpost on site, and officers arrived quickly. After reviewing the footage, they arrested the woman and her daughter without hesitation.

Back in their own neighborhood, they may have bullied others with their thick skin. But this was a public children’s attraction overseas—management would never tolerate someone ruining the experience for other guests.

Although things hadn’t gone according to Qi Siyu’s script, she was too deep in her happy-silly susceptibility state to care. She joyfully celebrated their “victory” in the T-Rex defense mission.

Finally, the group reached the top of the dinosaur’s head and prepared to go down the slide, one by one, into the gentle breeze.

“You go ahead—I’ll be waiting at the bottom,” Gu Qing said from her wheelchair. “Close your eyes. When you open them, I’ll be there.”

“Okay!” Qi Siyu, torn between her desire to slide and her reluctance to part from Gu Qing, hesitated a little—but eventually settled herself at the top of the slide.

“I’m watching you,” Gu Qing added. Her voice wasn’t exactly tender, but somehow Qi Siyu still found it incredibly comforting.

“Alright!” Qi Siyu cheered and launched herself down.

Originally, Gu Qing had planned to play with just one dinosaur before heading to the next exhibit. But Qi Siyu, fully in playful mode, insisted they explore every single dinosaur together with the other children before she was satisfied.

Once they exited the dinosaur hall, the kids left to regroup with their chaperones, and the two groups temporarily parted ways.

Qi Siyu said her goodbyes with great reluctance, even exchanging contact info with the children.

“Our next stop is the Shan Hai Pavilion, okay?” she suggested.

There were two nearby venues to choose from: one was themed after the classic mythical bestiary Shan Hai Jing, and the other was a dreamy, pink, anime-themed exhibit full of girly charm.

Gu Qing naturally preferred Shan Hai Jing.

Qi Siyu obediently agreed to everything, nodding like a well-behaved puppy.

Inside the Shan Hai Pavilion, there were several themed chambers. Using virtual reality technology, once visitors put on the VR glasses, they would be transported into the ancient world—experiencing legendary tales alongside mythological figures and interacting with mythical beasts and exotic plants.

By pure coincidence, just as they were picking up their VR gear, Gu Qing and Qi Siyu ran into little Min Yuruo and her mother again.

Though Min’s mother looked slightly embarrassed, she still greeted them with grace and courtesy. Gu Qing, already aware of the “secret mischief” between the little girl and Qi Siyu, certainly held no grudge and returned the greeting with friendly politeness.

Min’s mother was dying inside, toes metaphorically curling with awkwardness—especially since Gu Qing chose the exact same route she had just decided on, meaning they’d be walking the whole experience together.

The moment they stepped into the simulated ancient world, Qi Siyu immediately grabbed the handles of Gu Qing’s wheelchair, positioning herself protectively in front of her, eyes wary of the mythical beast that had just appeared.

It looked like a wild boar, its entire body glowing crimson like fire. This creature was Shan Gao, famously known in the Shan Hai Jing as one of the rudest beasts in all of mythology.

“Hahahahaha! You don’t even know how this works?” Little Min Yuruo laughed and called out to the beast. “I want to start the first challenge!”

“Ha! You little runt—your brain’s probably smaller than a walnut. You want to challenge me? What a joke,” Shan Gao sneered. “If you can recite a few good verses for me, I might let you try.”

Clearly, the AI designer who coded Shan Gao had used this foul-mouthed beast as an outlet for their overtime frustrations.

Min Yuruo: “…”

So unfair! Wang Beibei had said her first mythical beast encounter was the elegant and gentle Bai Ze!

Qi Siyu: “Pfft~”

Gu Qing then spoke up.

“‘This tune belongs in heaven; how often can it be heard on earth?’”

(A line from Du Fu, originally meant to criticize someone’s over-the-top flattery—used here to jab at Shan Gao’s own arrogance.)

“Hahahahaha! You’re lucky to hear words from your Grandpa Shan Gao himself! You must’ve saved eight lifetimes of good karma!” Shan Gao roared with laughter. “Alright then, I’ll let you challenge me.”

Min Yuruo and her mother covered their mouths, clearly catching Gu Qing’s hidden sarcasm.

But Qi Siyu pouted and looked at Gu Qing, “I want praise too!”

It was hard to tell if this petty jealousy was a symptom of her susceptibility phase, or just her personality—always needing to compare.

What could Gu Qing do? Naturally, she humored her. A sensible person doesn’t argue with someone acting like a child.

She softly praised Qi Siyu three times in a row. Instantly satisfied, Qi Siyu beamed, “Hehe, that’s more than it got!”

“Ahem! Grandpa Shan Gao is about to give you your challenge! Listen up, ants! I don’t repeat myself!” Shan Gao bellowed, beginning the trial.

Although Min Yuruo was still young, she had impressive knowledge. She answered eighteen questions about the Shan Hai Jing in a row.

But she got stuck on the nineteenth one:

“Mount Ku has two famous natural resources—what are they and what are their effects?”

“Can’t answer? Then I’ll give you a good chomp for daring to challenge heaven!” Shan Gao threatened, his laughter shrill and wild.

“Yellow thorns—its fruit is infertile. The ‘wutiao tree’—its bark prevents neck tumors,” Gu Qing answered directly.

Shan Gao glared, clearly displeased, but moved on.

Ninety-one more questions followed. Gu Qing didn’t get a single one wrong.

The hundred-question challenge was Shan Gao’s maximum difficulty level—but Gu Qing handled it with ease.

“Grrr… you passed all ten levels. Fine, you may roam freely in this area,” Shan Gao muttered like a defeated boss monster, his spine bristles drooping in defeat.

Qi Siyu clapped so hard her palms turned red—like a human applause machine, eyes glowing with pride.

“Hmph! You have to be our ride now!” Little Min Yuruo proudly declared, having clearly memorized all the local rules.

So each of them got a beast to ride. Even Gu Qing’s wheelchair was fitted into a specially designed mechanical Shan Gao unit, slowly rolling through the simulated ancient Ku Mountain range.

“Big Sister, you’re amazing! You know so much! Which university did you graduate from? I want to go there too when I grow up!” Min Yuruo, now Gu Qing’s devoted fan, gazed at her with sparkling eyes.

“I dropped out after middle school,” Gu Qing replied calmly. “Everything I know comes from books I read in my spare time.”

“Huh?” Min Yuruo asked innocently, “Why didn’t you go to school?”

“We were poor. My family couldn’t afford it.” Gu Qing lowered her gaze slightly, hiding the emotion in her eyes.

Don’t be fooled by her current indifference—when she was younger, she had felt all the usual emotions: anger, confusion, sadness, frustration. She just no longer showed them.

Back then, she didn’t understand why her brother could attend a private school costing over 10,000 yuan per month, while she couldn’t even stay in a public high school that was not only free, but also gave her scholarships. Instead, she had to go work—and hand over all her earnings to the family.

Min’s mother, noticing her daughter was about to ask more questions, quickly covered her mouth and gave Gu Qing an awkward smile before hurriedly changing the subject.

They might’ve moved on—but the livestream audience certainly didn’t.

Gu Qing’s lack of formal education had always been a sore spot among her fans. She had never explained it, and her aloof persona didn’t encourage questions.

But now that the truth was finally out—dropped out due to poverty—the chat exploded in outrage.

In this day and age, parents still pulling the “can’t afford to send a girl to school” stunt?!

Even more incensed than the fans were the haters—who celebrated like it was a national holiday.

【Impossible!!! She’s lying! Her brother’s Weibo showed photo albums—her family was one of the wealthiest in their county. Even the elementary school kids wore big gold watches!】

【Right! Her brother went to an elite private elementary and middle school. There’s no way they couldn’t afford to send her!】

【She probably dropped out because of bad grades and won’t admit it. That’s it for me. Unfollowing!】

But Qi Siyu had people already planted in the livestream. The moment these comments appeared, they sprang into action—copy-pasting carefully crafted responses to control the narrative.

【It’s always about the brother, huh? Did that family photo even have Gu Qing in it? Not even a shadow! Not once in ten years. You don’t need to guess the family dynamic—you know.】

【Some families have a long tradition of favoring alphas over omegas. Thinking about how she grew up in that suffocating environment makes me want to cry.】

【This isn’t the dark ages. If the haters are so sure she’s lying, why not go investigate her hometown yourselves? All the records are still there.】

【Exactly! Stop yelling in the comments and show us the proof. True fans, go get the evidence!】

Besides stirring emotional reactions, the team also deployed rational voices to guide public opinion in a calmer direction.

As expected, one of Gu Qing’s major fan accounts and one of her fiercest haters both announced they would personally visit her hometown for a fact-finding mission—evidence first, no speculation.

Task complete, the assistant proudly went to report back to Qi Siyu.

But Qi Siyu was too busy being jealous of Min Yuruo.

The little girl, now smitten with Gu Qing’s intelligence, kept chattering away with endless questions, and the two of them dove into an in-depth discussion about the Shan Hai Jing.

Qi Siyu couldn’t stand that all of Gu Qing’s attention had been snatched away. She didn’t pout outright—instead, she tried to start a new topic to pull Gu Qing’s focus back to her.

Unfortunately, Min Yuruo knew about that topic too.

Qi Siyu glared at the pair in frustration—then suddenly burst into full, dramatic sobs.

“Waaaahhh… Don’t ignore me… sob sob sob… I feel left out…”

Min Yuruo and her mother were completely stunned.

Gu Qing could only facepalm. Once Qi Siyu returned to her senses… how was she going to face these people?

This wasn’t some tourist or anonymous netizen—these were real-life acquaintances.