Transmigrated as the Scumbag Alpha of a Cold Movie Queen - Chapter 42

That sneeze from Qi Siyu sent Sun Yingying into a panic.

“Oh no! It must be the temperature difference between cities! President Qi, we have some ginger tea over there—come warm up with a cup!”

“No need, thank you,” Qi Siyu replied calmly, maintaining her cool demeanor. “I have something to take care of.”

“Oh? What kind of business?” Sun Yingying, swept up in excitement, had completely forgotten what it meant to have boundaries.

Qi Siyu didn’t respond, but her eyes were filled with silent reproach.

The friend Sun Yingying had dragged along gave her a tug.

“Yingying, the director’s calling us. You can catch up with your friend after filming.”

“Alright. Take care of yourself, President Qi!” Sun Yingying silently cursed herself for not bringing any of her “supplies” and tools—otherwise, she could have drugged her right then and there.

No matter, she thought. Later she’d find out which hotel Qi Siyu was staying at. Then she could dress up as a staff member and deliver some “warmth” herself.

Qi Siyu didn’t think much of the encounter and continued exploring.

After walking around for a while, she got tired and contacted her assistant to arrange for the team delivering treats to set off.

One of the company’s top actresses was filming a xianxia drama here. Since she was already in Hengdian, she figured she might as well visit the set, bring some coffee and fruit, and build a little goodwill—for the company and for the actress.

It was a nostalgic experience. As a child, Qi Siyu often tagged along with her director father to live on film sets. Her favorite thing had always been when actors’ friends or family came to visit—they never showed up empty-handed.

And as the director’s daughter, she had naturally been a prime target for flattery.

Soon, two catering vans filled with coffee and fresh-cut fruit rolled onto the lot. Qi Siyu sat in the passenger seat, heading straight for the filming set.

The assistant director welcomed her warmly.

“Zhao-jie is filming right now. President Qi, would you like to watch on set?”

“Sure,” Qi Siyu agreed without hesitation and followed along.

And then—she spotted someone familiar.

Sun Yingying’s friend.

Qi Siyi: …

Seriously? Was the universe out to get her?

All she wanted was to recover quietly in a place where no one had seen her socially combust.

Fortunately, the woman didn’t seem to recognize her—maybe too busy acting to keep up with the internet.

Qi Siyu scanned the area. No sign of Sun Yingying. She let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Brother Yang, who’s this?” the woman asked, seeing the assistant director being unusually deferential. She took the initiative to introduce herself. After all, anyone Sun Yingying was that enthusiastic about had to either be powerful or influential. Just being rich wouldn’t cut it.

“Xiao Qian, this is President Qi, CEO of Heyang Entertainment. She’s here visiting Zhao-jie’s set,” the assistant director said.

“President Qi, this is Qian Meimei, playing Zhao-jie’s junior disciple—our female lead number three.”

“President Qi! What an honor! Wishing you good health and great fortune!” Qian Meimei beamed, her voice dripping with flattery.

“Hello. Same to you.” Qi Siyu responded with her usual cool expression. She’d learned that even a hint of friendliness could lead people to latch on and overstep.

“President Qi, how do you know Yingying? She’s filming with the C crew right now—it’ll be over soon,” Qian Meimei said, clearly trying to use Sun Yingying as a bridge to build rapport. She didn’t dream of marrying into wealth, but making useful connections for better resources? Absolutely.

“We were on a variety show. Not close,” Qi Siyu replied, her tone noticeably colder—not an act, but genuine emotion.

Internally, she was screaming like a prairie dog. Why do people always say the most awkward things?!

Despite multiple attempts to chat, Qian Meimei got nothing but stone-cold responses and eventually gave up.

She wasn’t some nobody like Sun Yingying. Being cast as the third female lead in a xianxia drama made her a solid B-list actress. She wasn’t about to suffer the indignity of throwing herself at someone and getting the cold shoulder.

With the air finally quiet again, Qi Siyu breathed a sigh of relief. She suddenly missed Gu Qing’s peaceful presence. If only Gu Xiaoling wasn’t around—Gu Qing would never laugh at her, anyway.

Being around Gu Qing might’ve been chilly at times, but mostly, it had been… comfortable.

Soon, filming wrapped. Qi Siyu chatted briefly with the director and their leading actress, exchanging a few polite words—classic corporate small talk and mutual flattery.

The director invited her to dinner that evening. After some thought, Qi Siyu agreed.

She’d looked the director up on Baidu Baike before coming—he was a well-known name with quite a few solid works under his belt. Networking with someone like him couldn’t hurt.

Once the arrangements were made, Qi Siyu excused herself, saying she’d return in the evening.

Not long after she left, Sun Yingying wrapped up her shoot and dashed over, visibly worn out.

“Ughhh being an actress is so annoying. That assistant director kept yelling at me—told me not to look at the camera!”

Honestly, if it wasn’t for that wealthy second-gen who’d invested in the show, Sun Yingying wouldn’t have bothered. Even if she wanted to bag Qi Siyu, she wasn’t going to put all her eggs in one basket. She’d go after anyone who looked promising—no matter the flavor.

“President Qi came by just now to visit Zhao-jie,” Qian Meimei said with a sly grin. “You missed her by maybe three minutes. Guess you’ll have to settle for her coffee.”

Sun Yingying looked as though she’d been struck by lightning.

“Noooo! Why didn’t you call me?! Seriously!”

“And what would you have done, huh?” Qian Meimei rolled her eyes. “Just focus on your acting. With your looks, you’ve got a real shot.”

“Sure, that might work for now,” Sun Yingying scoffed at Qian Meimei’s “earn your place” approach.

“But let’s see who still wants you after you turn forty.”

“Tsk.” Qian Meimei rolled her eyes again, too lazy to argue with her best friend. Aside from this one flaw, Sun Yingying was actually a pretty decent person, and Qian Meimei wasn’t about to ditch a friend over it.

“The director invited President Qi to dinner tonight, so you’ll still have a chance to see her. But I’m telling you, she’s ice cold. I tried all kinds of flattery, and she didn’t even look at me.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!” Sun Yingying threw herself into Qian Meimei’s arms for a quick hug, then bounced back with a grin. “Just you wait! I’m going to go get my makeup done! When I rise to the top, I’ll take you with me!”

________________________________________

Qi Siyu didn’t give another thought to people like Qian Meimei or Sun Yingying. Back at the hotel, she spent some time researching interviews with the director and watching analyses of his previous works.

Know your opponent to win every battle—though this wasn’t a war, understanding someone before sitting down to talk was always helpful. It made for smoother, more meaningful conversations.

At 7:50 PM, Qi Siyu arrived at the restaurant. The dinner was scheduled for 8:00 PM, and she always made a habit of being ten minutes early.

The main crew of the production was already there. Qi Siyu smiled as she greeted them one by one.

But her smile froze mid-motion.

Why is Sun Yingying here again?

Qi Siyu had reviewed the list of the production’s core members—Sun Yingying didn’t even qualify as the fifth female lead. What was she doing at a dinner like this?

Still, whatever. As long as she didn’t end up sitting near her or overhearing her nonsense, it was fine.

Although the sight of Sun Yingying did sour Qi Siyu’s mood a little, it didn’t last long. Her conversation with the director was engaging and seamless. The director looked at her like she was a rising star with unlimited potential.

When asked how she knew so much about the industry, Qi Siyu gave a theatrical sigh.

“When I was a kid, I watched The Knights of Dragon Gate and was completely captivated by its fantastical world and stirring story. I’ve always wanted to create that kind of emotionally charged, heroic universe—conveying deep feelings through film and storytelling. But I’m an only child, and I had to follow my father’s wishes to study finance and prepare to take over the family business.”

“Still, I’ve always had a strong personal interest in directing and screenwriting, so I study it in my free time.”

That very show, The Knights of Dragon Gate, was one of the director’s most cherished creations—she referenced it in nearly every interview. Conveniently, it was also one of Qi Siyu’s childhood favorites, and she had rewatched it just that afternoon.

Naturally, the director jumped at the opportunity to discuss his work with someone who genuinely understood it. The more they talked, the more excited he became—thrilled to find someone who’d picked up on all the subtle camera work and emotional cues he had once painstakingly woven into the show.

“A thousand cups aren’t enough when you find a kindred spirit,” as the saying goes. The director grew more animated with each drink and encouraged Qi Siyu to drink more as well.

Caught up in the moment and eager to vent her inner frustrations, Qi Siyu indulged.

The other key members of the crew kept raising their glasses to her one after another, until she was feeling more than a little dizzy.

“Hic… I’m going to the restroom, excuse me.” Qi Siyu, feeling bloated and overheated, made her way unsteadily toward the bathroom.

She didn’t notice the little shadow that quietly followed behind her.

Sun Yingying had been watching her carefully and could immediately tell she was drunk. She followed, not out of concern, but curiosity—and ambition.

She didn’t need to do anything more. She had already slipped the drug into Qi Siyu’s drink during the toasts. Now, she was just seeing if she could capitalize on the situation.

Maybe… she could “take her home” and let a “drunken mistake” happen. That could easily save her twenty years of struggle!

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In the restroom, Qi Siyu splashed cold water on her face, bringing a moment of clarity.

But that clarity only made the heat raging through her body more unmistakable.

She stared into the mirror, eyes hazy with lust. Though her gaze was sharp, her expression betrayed her turmoil.

Either someone drugged me, or my body just can’t handle this world’s booze, she thought bitterly. Damn this ABO universe and my hypersensitive system.

She exhaled slowly and pulled out her phone to message the top actress, asking her to let the director know she wasn’t feeling well and had to leave early.

After splashing more cold water on her face, Qi Siyu wobbled out of the restroom.

Waiting just outside was none other than Sun Yingying.

The moment she saw her, Sun Yingying sprang to her feet, pretending to be dizzy and trying to fall into Qi Siyu’s arms.

Qi Siyu swayed but deftly dodged. Her voice was sharp.

“Move.”

Sun Yingying wasn’t discouraged by a little coldness. She released a hint of her rose-scented pheromones and purred flirtatiously,

“Ah, President Qi, what a coincidence~ We really are fated to meet—”

“Yue—” Qi Siyu gagged the moment she smelled the rose scent, her stomach churning.

“Get away from me!”

All she wanted was to get outside, breathe some fresh air. But Sun Yingying kept trailing behind.

Annoyed, Qi Siyu flung her arm back, shoving her aside.

Sun Yingying fell dramatically to the floor, crying out in her falsetto voice. But it didn’t slow Qi Siyu’s stride in the slightest.

In the elevator, the sensation of weightlessness hit her hard. She leaned against the corner, brows tightly furrowed, her expression contorted in pain.

Am I going to the hospital again?

Cue: pain face.jpg

Ever since getting thrown into this book world, she’d made too many trips to the hospital. Once this bout passed, she swore she will invest in some serious health products—at the very least, enough to keep her out of the ER every few days.

By the time she got off the elevator, everything was double-vision.

She staggered out of the restaurant and headed toward her hotel, only five hundred meters away.

But halfway there, Qi Siyu couldn’t take it anymore. She crouched down on the curb.

She had dressed formally to show respect tonight, but now her outfit was wrinkled, and her neatly tied ponytail had loosened. Strands of damp hair clung to her face, giving her a disheveled, pitiful look.

________________________________________

“Could you stop the car, please?”

In the passing car, Gu Qing had been staring out the window—and happened to catch sight of Qi Siyu crouched on the side of the road.

The car pulled over beside her. Gu Qing rolled down the window.

A light breeze carried the heavy scent of alcohol and a faint, dry lemon fragrance into the car. Gu Qing’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Qi Siyu, what happened to you?”

Hearing the voice, Qi Siyu dazedly looked up. Her hair clung to her sweaty forehead, her exposed skin flushed unnaturally red. Her eyes were hazy and unfocused.

She frowned slightly and looked up at Gu Qing, as if confused.

“Am I dreaming? Gu Qing?”

Even though she thought it was a dream, Qi Siyu still answered obediently,

“I’m drunk… and so hot. Can you take me home?”

The sourness and dryness of the lemon scent faded, replaced by a gentle sweetness that began to overpower the sharp edge of alcohol.

It was an involuntary response—her body welcoming and drawing in the person before her.

Gu Qing’s gaze darkened.

“Alright. Let’s go home.”