Transmigrated as the Scumbag Alpha of a Cold Movie Queen - Chapter 72

Stared down by a pair of eyes filled with icy hatred, Qi Siyu felt a sudden chill run down her spine.

If looks could kill, she would be dead a thousand times over.

For the time being, Qi Siyu gave up arguing. She flipped to the end of the contract and signed her name directly. After all, she had agreed to divorce Gu Qing and terminate their agreement.

Even though… even though things between them had long surpassed the boundaries of mere friendship. Not long ago, they’d even shared a bed. She had held Gu Qing’s slender waist, their necks entwined, entangled in passion…

Stop. Stop. Shut up, brain. Qi Siyu forcibly yanked herself away from those steamy memories.

Some things are best forgotten. The more you indulge, the more delusions grow—and delusions hurt everyone involved.

“Heh. At least you know what’s good for you.” Song Xinglin retrieved the documents and glanced at her. “Qi Siyu” was written in strong, graceful strokes—decent handwriting, at least.

Too bad her morals weren’t as good as her looks.

“You’re done here. Pack your stuff and get lost,” Song Xinglin said coolly, without sugarcoating the insult.

Qi Siyu: ???

“Wait—Gu Qing’s not awake yet. She might still need me,” Qi Siyu protested. She’d agreed to the divorce, sure, but she never said she was going to leave Gu Qing for good.

But her protests were in vain. Song Xinglin summoned a few burly Alpha bodyguards to stand by the door. If she didn’t pack, they would make her pack—by force.

Unable to resist, Qi Siyu had no choice but to pack up slowly and reluctantly.

The moment she finished, she was shoved out.

Her suitcase was thrown out after her.

Damn. Her stomach growled loudly. Qi Siyu felt like the epitome of pathetic.

If it started raining now, that would be the icing on the tragic cake.

She had arrived on a luxury cruise ship. Now that she’d been kicked out, all she had was a dingy speedboat.

Sitting at the edge of the boat, gnawing on cold, hard bread, Qi Siyu cried silently inside.

[Host, the Temporary Separation Card only has four days left. You need to figure out a way to return to Gu Qing soon.]

Though the voice remained flat and mechanical, the system clearly sounded anxious.

Qi Siyu took a big bite of bread.

[It’s fine. Maybe it’s good I left for now. I wouldn’t even know how to face Gu Qing when she wakes up.]

Just like how, when she came out of her own heat, she didn’t want to admit it was really her.

Gu Qing, overwhelmed by her own estrus, had done so many things she would never do when rational. Surely she wouldn’t want to acknowledge any of it—or see someone who witnessed it all.

Qi Siyu’s chest felt hollow, like something vital was missing. Even though she kept telling herself not to think about those moments, her mind disobeyed.

Gu Qing gasping in passion, Gu Qing swaying her hips, Gu Qing whimpering softly, sweating, crying, trying to escape…

Those weren’t the sides Gu Qing ever showed to the world—only Qi Siyu had seen them.

[Oh, by the way, I must’ve racked up a good number of lottery draws, right?]

Qi Siyu figured she’d only return to Gu Qing once she could control her own chaotic thoughts again.

[Correct. Each time you engage in deep marking (sleeping together), you earn ten lottery draws. You’ve earned 320 from that. A five-minute kiss gives one draw—you had 27 valid kisses, so 27 draws. A 30-minute hug equals one draw—you had 188 of those. Holding hands for an hour gives one draw—you did that for a total of 110 draws.]

The system’s tone was as bland as ever, but the numbers dragged Qi Siyu back into a haze of blush-worthy memories.

Over the past seven days, aside from occasionally stepping away to tidy up, she and Gu Qing were practically joined at the hip.

Thinking back on it made her smile with a dazed, dreamy expression.

[Host?]

Three minutes passed without a reply, and the system finally had to break the silence.

[Ahem.] Qi Siyu slapped her face a couple of times and bit into her bread again, forcing her aroused body and heart to calm down.

[So that’s 645 lottery draws. If I drew the seven-day Temporary Separation Card every time, I could stay away from Gu Qing for several years, right?]

“Several years”—the very phrase made the system, a literal code entity, metaphorically break into a cold sweat.

[Host, that card can’t be drawn more than once.]

[It was a backdoor cheat just for you. If you stay away too long, things could go wrong.]

[I see.] Qi Siyu noticed something odd in the system’s tone, but she didn’t dig deeper.

She didn’t really want to leave Gu Qing anyway. With the system as an excuse, she could shamelessly cling to her as much as she wanted.

[Good luck, Host!] the system tried to cheer her up awkwardly.

[At the rate you’re progressing, you’ll be able to resurrect in your original world within ten years.]

Ha. Qi Siyu shivered just thinking about that terrifying 200,000-point requirement.

[Who the hell goes into heat every day?]

Ten years, my ass. She bit into her bread again with force.

[Fine. I got it. ‘Which Me Do You Love’ is about to start filming. I’ll go be the director—then I’ll see Gu Qing again.]

That made sense to the system, so it stopped nagging. Last week’s progress had exceeded expectations—it was satisfied for now.

Suddenly, a cold raindrop splashed on Qi Siyu’s cheek. She looked up, and within seconds, the sky turned from clear blue to dark gray, with thunder rolling and rain pouring down in sheets.

The small boat rocked violently, like a lone leaf tossed in a stormy sea.

Even someone who never got seasick felt nauseous.

Shit—was this rickety boat going to flip over?

Qi Siyu stumbled into the cockpit, where three people were chilling, smoking and drinking while playing cards. “Uh, hello? Aren’t you going to do something? This boat is shaking like crazy!”

“Nothing to do. It’s all up to luck,” replied a female Alpha with a cigarette in her mouth, utterly unfazed.

Qi Siyu felt like her blood froze.

No way. No way Gu Qing’s parents were trying to kill her in a staged accident, right?

And then tell Gu Qing, “Sorry, just bad luck!”

She swallowed hard, trembling at her own morbid imagination.

“Hahahahaha—”

Laughter burst out from the three in the cockpit.

“Just messing with you! Look at your face. Don’t worry—we’ll hit land in four hours. You’re not gonna die.”

Qi Siyu forced a dry smile, turned around, and stumbled out.

[Host, don’t worry. There are thousands of items in the lottery pool that could help you safely survive this storm.]

The system saw an opportunity to push for a draw.

[I know.] Qi Siyu wasn’t worried about her life.

What worried her was… what if Gu Qing’s parents were truly set on getting rid of her? Would Gu Qing be swayed over time?

Even if she didn’t go as far as to want her dead… would she grow distant? Cold? A stranger?

Just imagining it made Qi Siyu feel like she was choking.

She could not accept that.

System: ??

Then why do you look like the world’s ending? The system didn’t understand. It just wanted her to keep drawing and earning more lottery attempts.

The storm ended after twenty minutes, but Qi Siyu’s mood never returned to what it had been twenty minutes before.

When the boat docked, she and her suitcase were both politely escorted off—told she could go wherever she wanted.

In other words: she was discarded.

Qi Siyu’s mouth twitched. She checked her phone—thankfully, there was signal.

She located herself on the map and ordered a car to the airport. Time to get a flight home.

Once back, she will talk Su Ningqing into starting filming early!

She had to secure her place in Gu Qing’s heart.

________________________________________

Meanwhile, Gu Qing slowly woke up.

They say it takes 21 days to form a habit, but even though only seven had passed, she was already used to waking in Qi Siyu’s warm embrace.

This time, though, she woke up cold. No familiar scent. No familiar presence.

Realizing Qi Siyu wasn’t there, Gu Qing instantly sobered.

The sheets held only the faintest trace of Alpha pheromones—it seemed she’d been gone a long time.

Her chest ached, like something had been quietly torn out. It wasn’t obvious at first, but once noticed, the emptiness was overwhelming.

She went to shower. As hot water cascaded over the red marks mottling her skin, it felt like remnants of the Alpha’s urgent kisses.

After deep marking, pheromones linger on an Omega’s body for 7 to 15 days—unaffected even by showers. But having grown used to high concentrations, Gu Qing could barely detect them.

Oddly, a nesting instinct kicked in. Exiting the bathroom, she found herself staring at a pile of tattered clothes on the floor and felt the urge to gather them around her.

But as she stepped closer, disappointment crept in.

These were the first outfits they wore. The Alpha scent had long since faded.

It’s fine, Gu Qing reassured herself as she dressed. Qi Siyu wouldn’t turn me away.

But when she left the room, she was told Qi Siyu had an urgent matter and had already left.

Gu Qing frowned slightly. What kind of urgent matter would cause Qi Siyu to leave without a single word?

She opened her chat with Qi Siyu. No new messages.

By evening, after dinner and dealing with concern from Gu Junsi and Song Xinglin, she moved to a new bedroom at their suggestion.

The room was filled with a citrusy fragrance. Not unpleasant—but it felt deliberate, like it was trying to replace the scent of lemon candy.

“Xiaoling,” Gu Qing asked, “What really happened?”

She didn’t want to confront her parents directly, but she knew Qi Siyu wouldn’t have left without a word—unless something was off.

Gu Xiaoling bit her lip, hesitating. Finally, she took out a folded note from her pocket.

Qi Siyu had left it for her before she departed. She hadn’t peeked.

After receiving Su Ningqing’s call and learning someone had paid the penalty for Gu Qing’s contract, Qi Siyu had decided to leave a note—just in case Gu Qing tried to rescue her again and found no trail.

She’d scribbled it down while packing.

Gu Qing unfolded the note and read:

Gu Qing, I’ve signed the divorce papers. Your mother doesn’t know I had already promised you the divorce and termination. When she found out about all the horrible things I’ve done, she brought out the contract, wanting to protect you. She truly loves you—she’s a great mom.

I can’t defend my past, but I believe you’ve sensed it too: I’m not who I used to be.

We’re close. We’ve always clicked—haven’t we?

I’ll be waiting for you to come back. ^-^

The note was handwritten, and completely different from Qi Siyu’s usual scrawl. The calligraphy was neat and elegant, showing years of practice. The final flourish of her strokes revealed liveliness and flair—unmistakably hers.

Gu Qing’s gaze lingered on the sentence: “I’m not who I used to be.”

It could be interpreted as redemption—a reformed soul.

She had once believed in the theory of a second personality.

But now, she wanted to believe that within that body… was a brand new soul.

Where did she come from?

Why did she come?

Gu Qing admitted—she was very curious.