A Max-Level Film Queen Takes on the Scumbag Alpha Script [Transmigration] - Chapter 35

As the small dining cart slowly approached, the aroma of sweet hot milk tea and rich hot coffee was swept up by the biting mountain wind, dispersing throughout the crew’s camp and bringing a touch of warmth to everyone’s hearts.

The staff and actors, who had been buffeted by the cold wind all afternoon, suddenly received such a “grand gift” that they nearly wanted to hug each other and weep with joy. In weather like this, having someone deliver hot drinks was truly the definition of “sending charcoal in a blizzard.”

Out of sheer gratitude, a spontaneous cheer erupted across the set: “Thank you, President Yan! President Yan is the best!”

There was even a brave soul hidden in the crowd who shouted at the top of their lungs: “President Yan! Can you come to inspect us every week!”

The subtext—”and bring us treats every time”—didn’t even need to be said out loud; everyone present understood it, and the set dissolved into a cacophony of laughter and teasing.

Most of the people working here were young laborers; soon, the atmosphere of the film set became incredibly lively.

Meanwhile, Yan Shu, who had originally only intended to smuggle in some small benefits for a certain someone but ended up accidentally gaining the adoration of the entire crew: “…”

It seemed things had taken a strange turn.

Seeing the situation, Jiang Baihe walked over to Yan Shu and sat down beside her. She knew perfectly well that these hot drinks were Yan Shu’s way of making her more comfortable in the cold wind, so the smile on her lips hadn’t faded for a moment.

Because the crew was being quite loud, and out of her own little selfish desire, Jiang Baihe leaned specifically close to Yan Shu and whispered in her ear, “Thank you, Little President Yan.”

“…You’re welcome.”

Yan Shu cleared her throat and picked up a cup of hot milk tea from beside her, handing it to Jiang Baihe. She said with a hint of hesitation, “This cup was saved for you. The sugar level… should be right.”

Jiang Baihe took the milk tea and rotated the cup. She saw the label stuck to it: 30% sugar, slightly warm, with coconut jelly and tea jelly.

Whether it was the sweetness or the toppings, it was indeed made exactly to her preference. Jiang Baihe didn’t like coffee, but she could accept milk tea; however, because the sugar and calories were usually too high, she didn’t dare drink much of it for the sake of her figure and weight—even though she knew she didn’t gain weight easily.

So, when exactly did I leak my preferences?

Jiang Baihe’s eyes flickered as she recalled her first and only time drinking milk tea since arriving here—it must have been that day she went to the amusement park with Yan Shu. She hadn’t expected Yan Shu to remember such a minor, insignificant detail. Jiang Baihe marveled internally; being remembered like this by Little President Yan made her feel truly blessed.

She inserted the straw and took a blissful sip. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yan Shu pick up a cup as well, but the packaging was different from hers. She asked curiously, “What’s in yours?”

“Hot cocoa,” Yan Shu replied softly.

Actually, Yan Shu didn’t like coffee much either. Aside from the occasional cup to stay alert during overtime, she preferred tea most of the time.

Listening to Yan Shu’s answer, Jiang Baihe stared at the hot cocoa in her hand, feeling a restless urge. She was wondering if she shamelessly proposed sharing a drink with Yan Shu, what the probability was of surviving Yan Shu’s reaction. Most likely… Little President Yan would get red ears and run away in a panic from the teasing.

Having deduced this outcome, Jiang Baihe shook her head with a bit of regret.

The two sat side-by-side drinking their hot beverages, watching the crew members line up in an orderly fashion at the cart. Even Director Song Zhishu paced over slowly like an old man on a walk, surreptitiously grabbed a cup of full-sugar milk tea, and walked away.

This move was caught clearly by Jiang Baihe. After glancing at the section he took from, she turned to Yan Shu and whispered the secret with a smile: “I didn’t expect Director Song to look so serious while drinking full sugar! No wonder his belly never goes away.”

Yan Shu, who had also noticed, nodded in agreement.

Fifteen minutes passed in a flash.

Seeing that Jiang Baihe was about to head back for a makeup touch-up to resume filming, Yan Shu hesitated for a moment before saying, “I have a 6:00 PM flight tonight.”

Jiang Baihe’s grip on the cup tightened slightly. “So sudden?”

“Some things came up at the company.”

There was a hint of frustration in Yan Shu’s voice. She had originally planned to rush back tomorrow morning, but plans had changed, and the itinerary became rushed.

Although she knew parting was inevitable, the fact that it came so soon gave Jiang Baihe a small sense of disappointment. A 6:00 PM flight meant preparing for boarding early; in other words, once she went on set, Yan Shu would have to leave. She wouldn’t even get the chance to see her off to the airport, which was a huge shame.

However, thinking that her scenes were nearing completion and she’d likely wrap up and return soon, Jiang Baihe cheered up quickly.

“Alright, stay safe on the road. Call me when you land.”

Jiang Baihe used these final few minutes to nag Yan Shu like a worried grandmother, telling her to be careful, watch her health, stop staying up late, and to call her if anything happened.

Finally, when Director Song picked up his megaphone to urge everyone back to work, Jiang Baihe stopped, still wanting to say more. She looked at Yan Shu, reluctant to say goodbye, but she had to let go. She smiled, her eyes curving: “Go on then. I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll wait for you to come back.”

Later that evening, Yan Shu and Jin Wen quietly left the set, just as stealthily as they had arrived.

On set, Jiang Baihe kept a sliver of her attention on the surroundings outside the scene. When she caught a glimpse of her empty chair out of the corner of her eye, she sighed internally and fully submerged herself back into her acting. Yan Shu’s visit had been like a weekend dream she didn’t want to leave. Now the dream was over, and it was time to work hard and keep fighting for a better tomorrow.

Time flew, and another weekend passed.

On this particular night, the cold wind arrived with sudden ferocity. The cold air from the Siberian current caused the temperature in City J to plummet from 25°C to 13°C, officially declaring the start of winter.

The night scenes for The Eternal Tribulation were all finished, so the nights were now their free time. Staying in their rooms playing with phones was too boring, so Jiang Baihe and the others had discovered a new form of entertainment lately: group card games. If there had been a Mahjong set in the villa, they probably would have set up a table and played a loud, festive game.

Several people were sitting in the villa’s leisure hall. Jiang Baihe was only wearing a thin sweater, looking quite underdressed, while Tang Yuan beside her was huddled deep in the corner, already wearing a fur coat and a scarf. Comparing the two, they looked as if they were living in different seasons. However, Jiang Baihe was a classic case of fearing heat more than cold; she could accept winter without heating, but she absolutely could not survive summer without air conditioning.

The group sat in a circle around the table in relaxed, rowdy postures. If paparazzi were to catch them, they’d surely land on the Star-Blog trending list. Jiang Baihe had even thought of the headline: Shock! Two Men and Three Women Do THIS in a Room…!

Fortunately, everyone here was a friend and the location was private enough that they didn’t have to worry about leaks.

“Three with a pair.”

“Follow. Three with a pair.”

“Pass.”

“Joker Bomb! Hehe, won again! Pay up, Landlord!”

Jiang Baihe looked at the cards she had barely managed to play and rolled her eyes. “If I ever play the Landlord again, I’m a pig!” She suspected the feng shui of her seat was bad. Not only did she keep getting dealt the Landlord hand, but the three people opposite her had “eight hundred clever schemes” combined; the result of her one-vs-three was that she hadn’t won a single round.

The others ignored her grumpy mood and began chuckling as they prepared to “split the loot.” Pei Xingyi shook his head gently and made another mark in his little notebook so they could settle the accounts once the game ended.

Director Song Zhishu sat to the side, not playing but reclining in a “Ge You Slouch,” occasionally looking up at the state of the table. Watching the joy of the winners, he smacked his lips and remarked, “I say, you lot are either famous actors or renowned screenwriters. Your salaries are so high, yet you play for ten yuan a hand. Is this really fun?”

Tang Yuan blinked, her head resting on a cushion. “But Director Song, we aren’t playing to make money.”

Screenwriter Qin echoed while shuffling: “Exactly. With our relationship, talking about money hurts feelings.” A ten-yuan game added just enough stakes to keep it competitive without hurting the wallet—the best of both worlds.

Jiang Baihe looked at the un-dealt cards and wanted to wash her face to get rid of her bad luck. She looked at Song Zhishu and shouted, “I’m going to the restroom. Director Song, take my spot?”

Song Zhishu waved her away and climbed up from his seat. “Go on, go on. Just wait and see how I dominate the field!”

Seeing his high spirits, Jiang Baihe mentally lit a candle for him and walked toward the restroom. When she returned to the hall, the four at the table were still in a fierce battle, so she curled up on the sofa and started scrolling through her phone.

Habitually logging into her side account, she opened the trending list to scan for news in the industry. She noticed a top topic that looked quite familiar.

[Lin Yiqiu Wins Championship] “Explosive”

[Shining 404 Final Night] “Explosive”

Scanning the list, it finally clicked. She had been so immersed in filming that she hadn’t realized how much time had passed; the Shining 404 survival show she had dropped out of had reached its finale tonight. And Lin Yiqiu, without any shady behind-the-scenes manipulation, had met expectations and won the championship.

This was a total departure from the original plot of the book. By making a few simple choices, Jiang Baihe had changed the original story and allowed this world to move toward a better future. Realizing the plot could indeed be changed made her feel much lighter. Over these past months, her reputation had improved, and she was gradually shaking off the shadow of the “scumbag Alpha.” Everything was moving in a positive direction.

With that in mind, she opened WeChat and found a chat box that had been silent for a long time. They were acquaintances, after all; she had to send her blessings to the newly crowned champion.

She assumed Lin Yiqiu would be too busy with the awards night to reply, but the moment Jiang Baihe put down her phone to watch the game, Lin Yiqiu replied with a “thank you.” Then, she sent several voice messages—all of which were excited, incoherent screams of joy.

Jiang Baihe didn’t find it strange. She had experienced that thrill of winning after hard work; back in her day, she was even more excited than Lin Yiqiu when she got her Best Actress nomination. The tragedy was the stage accident on the day of the awards that sent her into this book—the biggest regret of her previous life.

To prevent such accidents for her friend, Jiang Baihe immediately sent a reminder to stay steady and not be as unlucky as her.

The two chatted for a bit longer until Lin Yiqiu had to head back on stage for the closing ceremony. Even after the chat ended, Jiang Baihe’s eyes remained on one sentence Lin Yiqiu had sent:

“Competition is over today! I can finally have a proper Christmas when I get back in a few days! Yay!”

Jiang Baihe propped her chin on her hand, staring at the words, then opened her phone calendar. Her expression became solemn, as if she were contemplating a major event.

Christmas, huh…