Transmigrated into the Villainous Scummy Alpha in a Talent Show Novel - Chapter 5

Anyone can lose their temper. Even though Lin Qi had always been kind-hearted and was widely recognized in the industry for her tolerant nature, she couldn’t help feeling uncontrollable anger when Jiang Ming used her ribs as support to stand up.

Never had she tried so hard to please someone, only to be repeatedly met with cold indifference. While Jiang Ming was indeed pitiable, and the “Lin Qi” in the book had truly committed many wrongs and caused the female lead immense suffering, she wasn’t that person!

Why should she be here atoning for sins?

For the first time since transmigrating into the book, Lin Qi’s perpetually smiling face darkened. Walking ahead, she tried to sort through her tangled emotions, the last shreds of her rationality keeping her from lashing out at Jiang Ming.

By the time they returned to the dormitory, she had half a mind to slam the door shut. But the moment she stepped inside, her gaze landed on the Chinese study materials spread across the opposite desk, reminding her of Jiang Ming’s tragic backstory in the novel. The raging fire of her anger was instantly doused.

Sigh. She was already in her twenties, why bother arguing with a nineteen-year-old girl?

Completely disregarding the fact that the original body was actually a year younger than Jiang Ming, Lin Qi mentally cast herself in the role of an elder, convincing herself to let go of her anger though the lingering discomfort remained.

Glancing at the silent, downcast female lead behind her, Lin Qi sighed and took the initiative to break the ice. “If there’s anything you don’t understand, you can ask me.”

Four years in a psychiatric hospital had honed Jiang Ming’s sensitivity. Just from Lin Qi’s stiff posture, she could tell the other girl was on the verge of exploding with fury, all of it directed at her. Her hands clenched into fists, her body trembling uncontrollably as memories of being pinned to the bed and beaten flooded her mind. The phantom pain seemed to return, and in her daze, Jiang Ming tightened her grip, accidentally tearing the note in half. Distraught, she didn’t hear a word Lin Qi said.

Again. It was as if an invisible barrier stood between them, her questions met with silence, whether unheard or deliberately ignored.

And now, the note she had painstakingly copied was torn in two.

The anger surged back. Lin Qi grabbed Jiang Ming’s wrist, the one clutching the torn note her voice tight with suppressed frustration. “Do you even want to debut anymore? If you don’t perform well in the theme song evaluation and get eliminated in the first round, what then?”

That had been the female lead’s fate in the original story.

The moment the words left her mouth, Lin Qi inwardly scoffed at her own doormat personality. She had meant to vent her displeasure, yet somehow, it had come out as concern for Jiang Ming as if the root of her anger was actually worry for the girl, disguised beneath exasperation.

“I don’t need you to worry about me.”

A cold voice, laced with a hint of vulnerable softness. Jiang Ming shook off Lin Qi’s grip, turned on the overhead light, and wordlessly took a seat at her desk. She opened a dictionary and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, clearly intending to rewrite the lyrics herself.

As the light flickered on, a stark red mark on Jiang Ming’s pale skin caught Lin Qi’s eye, the result of her uncontrolled grip. The finger-shaped bruises stood out vividly, just like the handprint she had left on Jiang Ming’s face when she first transmigrated.

Even the most delicate flower, though weathered by storms, should never be handled roughly.

Belated rationality returned, and Lin Qi was overwhelmed with deep guilt and self-reproach. Jiang Ming had already suffered so much, why couldn’t she be more tolerant?

Walking over behind Jiang Ming, Lin Qi snatched the dictionary and pen from her hands, her tone awkward. “Go take a shower. I’ll rewrite it for you, I’ll definitely finish faster than you.”

Already feeling humiliated by her own behavior yelling at someone and then trying to appease them like some pathetic simp, Jiang Ming refused to comply as expected. She remained seated, motionless, only tilting her head up to glare at Lin Qi with furrowed brows.

So Lin Qi decided to throw caution to the wind.

Leaning down, she caged Jiang Ming between her arms and the chair, meeting her startled, trembling gaze as she tried to put on a fierce expression. “Are you going to shower or not? If not, I’ll tear up your dictionary. You know me, I always follow through on my threats.”

The delicate flower frowned deeply, her dark eyes flashing with a whirlwind of emotions most prominently, hatred. The sheer intensity of it sent a chill down Lin Qi’s spine.

“Get lost.”

Shoved away with force, Lin Qi collapsed onto the bed, still processing the icy glare she’d received. The pure, unadulterated hatred in those eyes was something she’d never encountered before. Had her threat gone too far?

She’d probably triggered Jiang Ming’s traumatic memories again.

Fortunately, though shameless, the tactic worked. Jiang Ming soon gathered her things and headed to the shower, while Lin Qi seized the opportunity to write furiously on the paper. After four hours of listening to the same song on loop, the lyrics were practically engraved in her mind.

Placing the new sheet on the desk, Lin Qi rummaged through the cabinet for two packets of instant coffee. She took a cup outside to fill it with hot water, planning to tutor Jiang Ming intensively tonight. After all, the female lead’s Chinese accent was described in the novel as “winding like a mountain road with eighteen bends.”

Just as she finished brewing the coffee, the bathroom door opened. Perhaps for privacy, the door was solid wood, offering no glimpse inside not even a blurred silhouette. Though Lin Qi hadn’t expected anything, the sight of the freshly bathed beauty still took her breath away.

Steam from the bathroom clung to Jiang Ming like dew to a flower, her fair skin flushed pink. While most people looked disheveled when blushing, Jiang Ming was different her porcelain complexion made the rosy hue stand out like petals against green leaves, adding a touch of delicate charm to her ethereal coldness.

The scent of shower gel instantly filled the dorm room. Lin Qi unconsciously sniffed the air, a gentle, woody fragrance. So this was the scent Jiang Ming liked?

Lin Qi suddenly recalled hearing about people whose profession involved using their own pheromones to soothe others. Later in the novel, Song En had apparently found someone like that for Jiang Ming, successfully treating the female lead’s latent autism.

The book hadn’t described this person much, only mentioning their woody pheromones, a scent Jiang Ming adored.

Whatever. Her only goal was to help Jiang Ming debut. After that, everything about her would no longer be Lin Qi’s concern.

Shaking off her stray thoughts, Lin Qi grabbed a set of pajamas and headed to the bathroom for a shower, unaware that outside the wooden door, Jiang Ming was staring at the lyrics sheet once again filled to the brim on the table. Her lowered gaze was complex and inscrutable, before shifting toward the wooden door. Her delicate face was etched with confusion, though the hatred in her expression had lessened by a fraction.

Seated at the desk was a figure clad in milky-white long-sleeved pajamas that draped over her slender frame. Her back was straight, but her jet-black hair was still wet, slowly soaking through the fabric at her shoulders. The already thin pajamas turned slightly translucent, revealing a faint, alluring glimpse of what lay beneath.

This was the scene that greeted Lin Qi when she stepped out. She frowned not at the sight, but at Jiang Ming’s neglect of herself.

“Jiang Ming, aren’t you going to dry your hair? It’s only early April, it’s not that warm yet.”

The soft, murmuring voice reciting lyrics paused. Then Lin Qi heard Jiang Ming reply, “Once I finish memorizing the lyrics, my hair will dry on its own.”

Rare. The girl actually responded to her.

But from the sound of it, she planned to pull an all-nighter studying?

Sighing, Lin Qi picked up the coffee on the table and took a sip, resigning herself to helping Jiang Ming. Consider it doing a good deed.

She rummaged through the drawer for the hairdryer, but the cord wasn’t long enough. After dragging an extension cord from beside her bed, she finally stood behind Jiang Ming, testing the dryer’s temperature with her hand.

“Don’t move.”

Her tone was stiff, Lin Qi still couldn’t quite get past her own pride. In her past life, right up until the moment her anti-fans stabbed her to death, she had never gone out of her way to pamper someone like this.

Silky strands slipped through her fingers like the finest satin, carrying a faint, pleasant fragrance.

Unaccustomed to drying someone else’s hair, Lin Qi could only lighten her touch again and again, gentle to the point of absurdity, afraid of hurting Jiang Ming.

As she worked, a sudden question struck her: Why did Jiang Ming have so much hair?

In her past life, Lin Qi had been a die-hard fan of hair extensions for a heartbreaking reason. Late nights meant hair loss! Three months of erratic sleep had made her already sparse hair fall out in clumps, and once, during a performance, her exaggerated movements sent a hairpiece flying, earning her relentless teasing from all eight of her bandmates enough to trend at number one…

Maybe she could ask Jiang Ming for hair care tips once their relationship improved?

Lost in thought, the satin-like hair in her hands had already dried. Lin Qi unplugged the hairdryer and headed to the bathroom to dry her own hair. As an idol whose face alone had attracted hordes of fans, she was a bit vain, she had no intention of turning her hair into a bird’s nest.

The hum of the dryer in the bathroom seemed to linger in her ears. Jiang Ming tied up her now-dry hair, shaking her head as if to dispel an inexplicable ache. Long, long ago, when that person hadn’t yet hung lifelessly from the ceiling, she, too, had gently dried Jiang Ming’s hair.

Back then, they would talk about their dreams. Jiang Ming still remembered her younger self smiling sweetly, declaring she wanted to become a singer.

But after that blood-red accident, everything changed. The people who cherished her left one by one, and she, having witnessed a loved one’s death, developed a mental disorder. Sent back to her home country, she was admitted to a psychiatric hospital.

Every day, someone would break down in tears there, but Jiang Ming never did. She just curled up on her hospital bed, quiet and uncomplaining, living mechanically, not even struggling during the restraints of medical examinations.

The doctors and nurses all thought this child would surely pick a day to end her life when they weren’t looking. Yet, surprisingly, four years later, Jiang Ming walked out of the hospital with speech and behavior so normal it was startling.

This was Jiang Ming, a “normal person” with an aloof, ethereal exterior, but a heart already rotted through with countless wounds.

For now, Lin Qi, drying her hair in the bathroom, only knew part of this story. She didn’t realize that to illuminate the barrenness within Jiang Ming would require someone warm, kind, upright to the extreme and endlessly patient.