A Max-Level Film Queen Takes on the Scumbag Alpha Script [Transmigration] - Chapter 36

Deep in the midwinter woods, two figures dashed through the dense trees.

Yu Qingqing led the way, long sword in hand, her face a mask of intense anxiety. She glanced back every few seconds, making sure their pursuers hadn’t caught up. Beside her was Yi Xingyuan, dressed in white robes. Currently, he was carrying a frail figure on his back. A closer look revealed it was Yu Wuhuan—her body covered in wounds, her breathing faint and shallow.

“Senior Sister! Senior Sister! Just hold on a little longer, we’re almost down the mountain!” Yu Qingqing whispered urgently, her voice trembling with suppressed grief and nerves.

In her semi-conscious state, Yu Wuhuan seemed to hear her. Her fingers twitched slightly, and she slowly forced her eyes open.

A few days ago, standing outside the door of a secret passage, Yu Wuhuan had learned of the atrocities committed by the Sect Master of Qingyao. After a losing battle, she was captured and thrown into a dark dungeon, where she endured relentless torture. It wasn’t until today that Yu Qingqing and Yi Xingyuan, sensing something was wrong from below the mountain, managed to rescue her.

Days of punishment had left her without a single patch of uninjured skin; blood seeped from everywhere. Though she could not feel physical pain, the massive blood loss had left her incredibly weak. She wanted to open her mouth to tell Yu Qingqing not to be afraid, but the words wouldn’t come.

From the corner of her eye, Yu Qingqing saw that Yu Wuhuan was finally awake. Overjoyed, she kept calling out her sister’s name, desperate to keep her conscious and prevent her from slipping away again.

As they hurried toward the foot of the mountain, Yi Xingyuan’s face suddenly went cold. He barked a command: “Stop!”

Yu Qingqing braked instantly, her sword unsheathing with a metallic ring as she stepped in front of the two. Normally, she was the one protected behind her Senior Sister’s back; today, it was her turn to protect Yu Wuhuan.

She held her breath, expecting the men in black to appear, but the surroundings remained deathly silent. Aside from the thumping of their hearts, there wasn’t a sound. She scanned the area and frowned. “Something’s wrong!”

Though this forest was remote, there were usually the sounds of dogs barking or wolves howling. Now, there was nothing. Moreover, according to their pace, they should have reached the base fifteen minutes ago, yet they were still circling the same path.

“A Maze Array.” Yi Xingyuan, coming from the old martial family of the Yi clan, had studied formations. He recognized the situation at a glance. However, the predicament was likely more dire than he let on; he didn’t want to voice his fears in such a tense atmosphere. It wasn’t just a Maze Array—someone had layered a “Nameless Killing Array” on the outer perimeter. To go to such lengths just to stop the three of them… the Sect Master of Qingyao was certainly a man of commitment.

Yi Xingyuan’s lips curled into a cold, grim smile as he scanned the area. “Look for the Life Gate. Move!”

They continued their escape with the heavily injured Yu Wuhuan, taking down two waves of black-clad pursuers along the way. However, Yu Qingqing’s martial arts were not as strong as Yu Wuhuan’s, and though Yi Xingyuan was capable, having a wounded person on his back made him restricted and clumsy. After several clashes, both were sporting fresh injuries.

Finally, they found a hidden cave and ducked inside. Once they were hidden, Yu Qingqing ignored her own wounds and frantically poured high-grade medicine down Yu Wuhuan’s throat. Only when Yu Wuhuan’s condition stabilized did she let out a sigh of relief and turn to discuss a counter-strategy with Yi Xingyuan.

Meanwhile, a recovering Yu Wuhuan sat up against the cave wall, her eyes half-lidded, lost in thought.

“Qingqing…” Yu Wuhuan’s voice was paper-thin, like an unconscious murmur, but Yu Qingqing, who was watching her every move, heard it immediately. Thinking she was in pain, she rushed over.

“Senior Sister! How do you feel?!”

Yu Wuhuan’s mouth moved as if saying something muffled and unintelligible. Yu Qingqing instinctively leaned her head closer, only to hear Yu Wuhuan say: “You must… live on.”

“I—” Yu Qingqing’s eyes widened. Before she could react, a sharp pain hit the back of her neck—Yu Wuhuan had struck her with a knife-hand while she was off guard.

As Yu Qingqing’s eyes drifted shut in disbelief, Yu Wuhuan reached out to catch her falling body. Beside them, Yi Xingyuan hadn’t expected this turn of events and stood up quickly. “What are you doing?”

“The one outside the Maze Array is a Life-Robbing Array.”

Yi Xingyuan froze. He bit his lip and said heavily, “…Yes.” To break that array, one had to fight with their very life as the price. He had originally planned to sacrifice himself to send the two of them out at the last moment. He hadn’t expected that Yu Wuhuan, who had been silent all along, had also seen through the formation.

He tried to stand up, his body swaying, and reached out nervously to support her. Yu Wuhuan dodged his hand and said flatly, “Outside Yangzhou City, under the big banyan tree in Erli Village, lies what you are looking for.”

Yi Xingyuan’s pupils shrank, and his hand froze in mid-air. He looked at the pale Yu Wuhuan in shock. “So you knew…”

“I have only one request—” Yu Wuhuan interrupted him, her face devoid of joy or sorrow. Her eyes were dim, but hidden within them was a clear resolve for death. She said: “Take care of Yu Qingqing for me.”

Every array must have a “core.” Yu Wuhuan used her own life force as a catalyst to restore herself to her peak state. She walked step by step toward the mountain peak—the calculated location of the array’s eye.

With the core destroyed, the formation would naturally shatter. However, the one who set it would have anticipated this and stationed guards to defend it. As Yu Wuhuan neared the summit, her hair began to fade and turn white, but in exchange for her life force, the white light on the sword in her hand grew increasingly brilliant.

A group was already waiting at the peak. In the center, a man in a mink-fur coat stood with his back to her, hands clasped behind him. He spoke: “Wuhuan, if you admit your mistake now, I can still spare your life.”

“There is no ‘eternal life’ in this world, Master,” Yu Wuhuan said calmly as she stepped forward. “You are the one who is obsessed and has fallen into madness.”

“Hmph. You care so much for the world, but have you considered how the world treats you?” Abandoned in a mass grave at age seven, and later treated as a monster because she felt no pain—shunned and feared by all until today. If he hadn’t picked her up and nurtured her, there would be no Yu Wuhuan.

But listening to him, she only shook her head. “I am grateful to you, but that is no excuse for your obsession with the dark arts and the slaughter of children. Though I am as small as an ant, I still hope for peace in the world.”

The conversation was over. The Sect Master waved his hand, and the men in black swarmed forward. Yu Wuhuan flicked her sword, sending a streak of brilliant light toward them. The power of an attack fueled by one’s life force was not to be taken lightly; none dared to face it head-on.

A battle erupted at the summit. Finally, in a desperate, life-for-life gambit, Yu Wuhuan launched an attack at the Sect Master. He was startled. He knew Yu Wuhuan was a born killer and had never failed a mission in all these years, but only now, facing her directly, did he realize how difficult she was to handle when she no longer cared for her own life.

Countless sharp sword-auras flew toward him. He instinctively dodged, only to realize the strongest strike among them wasn’t aimed at him—it was headed straight for the array core behind him.

A sound like glass shattering echoed through the air: Crasssh!

“You deserve to die!” Enraged that his plans were ruined, the Sect Master let out a low roar. He spun and struck with his palm, hitting the already spent Yu Wuhuan and sending her falling over the cliff.

As she fell, Yu Wuhuan half-closed her eyes, watching the sky move further and further away. She seemed to think of many things, yet nothing at all. As if the heavens were weeping for her, a heavy snow suddenly began to fall.

Yu Wuhuan reached her hand toward the sky. She remembered not long ago, when Yu Qingqing had skipped to her side, counting on her fingers: “Sister, let’s go see the first snow of the human world together this year!”

Yu Wuhuan smiled, and finally, her eyes closed in exhaustion. I’m sorry. Your sister… seems she’ll have to break her promise this time.

“Cut! Pass!”

With the final scene finished, Jiang Baihe’s parts in The Eternal Tribulation were officially over. For a moment, she remained in character, lying on the soft mats with her eyes closed. She slowly steadied her emotions, peeling herself away from the role of Yu Wuhuan layer by layer.

A minute later, Jiang Baihe snapped her eyes open and exhaled a long breath. Once she had adjusted, the staff members, beaming with smiles, came over to help her up.

“Congratulations on wrapping up!”

“Congrats, Senior Sister!”

Jiang Baihe responded to their congratulations with a bright smile, her heart light and happy. As she headed to remove her makeup, she saw Song Zhishu approaching with his megaphone and his hands behind his back. He reached out and stuffed a red envelope into her hand.

“Huh? This is…?” Jiang Baihe blinked.

Song Zhishu cleared his throat and assumed a serious expression. “This is a wrap-up red envelope specifically prepared for you by Old Zhang and me. As The Eternal Tribulation is your first drama, you performed exceptionally well. I hope in the future you remain humble, keep your feet on the ground, and be a great actor.”

Jiang Baihe squeezed the envelope; it wasn’t thick, likely containing 666 or 888 yuan. The amount was just for good luck, but the sentiment behind it sent a wave of warmth through her. She thanked Director Song sincerely and discussed her future plans with him before returning to the villa.

While she was done, the leads Tang Yuan and Pei Xingyi still had another month of filming, so there was no formal wrap party for her. Since she was in a hurry anyway, the lack of a party was actually a blessing.

She checked the date: December 23rd. Over the last two days, she had pushed herself to ensure her scenes were flawless and ahead of schedule, all so she could get home before Christmas and give Yan Shu a surprise.

The continuous filming to compress time had left her physically and mentally exhausted, but she remembered to remind Xiao Xu to keep her wrap-up a secret and to book two tickets back to City A for tomorrow morning. After a quick wash, Jiang Baihe collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Her dreams were a kaleidoscope of strange and colorful scenes. She even dreamed of the “watching the snow” scene from the play. However, the person she was watching the snow with wasn’t Yu Qingqing, but Yan Shu, who had somehow wandered into the scene.

The two walked hand-in-hand along a bright path. They had no umbrella, so the falling snowflakes landed on their hair, as if wanting to turn their dark locks completely white. In her sleep, a gentle smile unconsciously curved Jiang Baihe’s lips.

One’s thoughts while sleeping are always more honest and bold than when awake. Like is like; there’s no need for excuses.

To be caught in the same snow while miles apart is to have white hair together in this life.

Just as the dream showed: she wanted to grow old with Yan Shu, until their hair was white.