A Max-Level Film Queen Takes on the Scumbag Alpha Script [Transmigration] - Chapter 8

The production team of The Eternal Tribulation scheduled the audition day for three days later. The selection process was conducted via an open casting call within the entertainment industry; anyone interested in participating could sign up to audition.

This series was an ancient fantasy (Xianxia) IP drama invested in by the Sihai Group, directed by the renowned Song Zhishu, who had decades of experience and numerous major awards under his belt. For the script, the original author was invited to join the crew directly to handle the adaptation.

The lead roles had already been confirmed during the project filing. The female lead was Tang Yuan, one of the most popular rising “little flowers” in the industry, while the male lead was the newly crowned Film King Pei Xingyi, who was making a return to television from the big screen. Both were well-known actors possessing both skill and popularity.

During these three days, Jiang Baihe memorized the audition script segments sent by the crew until she knew them by heart. She also found time to skim through the original novel to ensure she had a solid grasp of the overall story.

The role she was auditioning for was the female lead’s Senior Sister, Yu Wuhuan.

This character had a significant amount of screen time, appearing in nearly half of the forty-plus episodes, and was a brilliant “highlight” character designed to win the audience’s favor.

In the original story, Yu Wuhuan and the female lead, Yu Qingqing, grew up together at the Qingyao Sect. Yu Wuhuan suffered from congenital analgesia—she had never known the meaning of physical pain in her life. From a young age, she was raised by the Sect Master as a human weapon. Cold and emotionless, she was viewed as a monster by her peers. While others shunned her, only the innocent and kind Yu Qingqing was willing to reach out. They became as close as sisters.

In the 13th year of Tianqi, trouble brewed in Qingyao City, which the sect protected. Yu Wuhuan and Yu Qingqing descended the mountain to investigate, where they accidentally met a hidden genius from a prominent family, Yi Xingyuan—the male lead. During the investigation, they were forced into a conspiracy. Ultimately, Yu Wuhuan sacrificed her life for justice, buying the protagonists a chance at survival.

Combining the original plot with her own insights, Jiang Baihe covered her printed script with dense notes on character biography and personal reflections. It was clear she had made exhaustive preparations for this audition.

On the day of the audition, Song Jia came to pick her up. Usually, a minor task like this could be handled by the assistant, Xiao Xu, but since this was Jiang Baihe’s first audition after her decision to pivot her career, Song Jia wasn’t at ease and decided to come personally.

“How’s the preparation? Feeling confident?” Song Jia asked while driving, glancing through the rearview mirror at Jiang Baihe, who was slumped lazily in the back seat.

She had asked Jiang Baihe a similar question during the survival show, and the final result had truly exceeded her expectations. Thus, Song Jia was hoping Jiang Baihe could continue to surprise her.

From the back seat, Jiang Baihe cleared her throat and spoke indifferently: “I am Yu Wuhuan herself.”

Song Jia: “…”

Song Jia took advantage of a red light to stop the car, grabbed the backrest cushion from the passenger seat, and threw it directly at Jiang Baihe. She rolled her eyes and said through gritted teeth, “Cheeky! Keep being cheeky!”

Jiang Baihe nimbly caught the flying pillow and hugged it to her chest. Stroking her long hair, she let out a soft laugh.

At the venue, Jiang Baihe took her number tag and found a seat with Song Jia.

“Quite a crowd here.”

“The foundation for this drama is too good. Even if it doesn’t become a massive hit, the performance is bound to be solid,” Song Jia said nonchalantly while filling out forms. “Resources in this circle are scarce; everyone wants a piece of the pie.”

Jiang Baihe scanned the room calmly, noticing several familiar and unfamiliar actors entering. These people were all her potential competitors, but she wasn’t nervous. She was confident in her acting skills; the only uncertainty was whether the production team would dare to employ a “newcomer” like her with such a notorious reputation.

Jiang Baihe lowered her head and took out her phone, intending to send a “cute” message to Yan Shu, when the person sitting to her right greeted her.

“Hello! I’m Shu Ran. And you?”

Jiang Baihe looked up at the person. She didn’t take her to heart. “Hello. I’m Jiang Baihe.”

Shu Ran was very familiar and didn’t mind the cold attitude. She said with a smile, “Are you here for the Yu Wuhuan audition too? There are so many people today!”

“Mhm.”

Jiang Baihe poked Yan Shu on WeChat. Seeing no reply, she knew Yan Shu was likely busy, so she put her phone away and took out her script—which was already worn from constant flipping—to review.

Beside her, Shu Ran stole several glances at Jiang Baihe. As the audition numbers started being called, Shu Ran bit her lip, took two bottles of water from her bag, and handed one to Jiang Baihe.

“I see it’ll be a long time before it’s our turn. There are no water dispensers here, and I happened to bring two bottles. Would you like one?” Shu Ran spoke kindly, appearing very considerate.

Seeing that Jiang Baihe didn’t seem inclined to respond, Shu Ran acted as if she just realized something. “Oh, are you worried?”

As she spoke, Shu Ran twisted open the bottle intended for Jiang Baihe, took a sip herself, and smiled. “Mmm, it’s still cold.” She then handed over the other, unopened bottle of mineral water. “Do you need it?”

Jiang Baihe stared at the bottle in Shu Ran’s hand for a few seconds. Finally, with a half-smile, she spoke: “No thanks. I’m quite picky; I only like to drink Songquan brand water.”

“Sister Song, right?”

Receiving the silent cue from Jiang Baihe’s eyes, Song Jia reached out with a chuckle, preparing to take the bottle from Shu Ran. “My artist is just that high-maintenance. Please don’t take it to heart.”

The expression on Shu Ran’s face stiffened. She instinctively gripped the bottle tight. Song Jia had to use a bit of force twice, but she couldn’t get the bottle out of her hand. Song Jia raised an eyebrow and directly used a clever bit of leverage to snatch the bottle away.

“Heh, Miss Shu’s grip strength is quite impressive.”

“Heh… heh, is that so?” Shu Ran laughed awkwardly, knowing she had run into a tough opponent today.

She sat in her seat, restless. After a few minutes, she couldn’t help but stand up. “I’m going to the restroom.”

“Sure, take your time,” Song Jia replied.

Song Jia watched as Shu Ran claimed to go to the restroom but actually snuck toward the main exit. She casually tossed the water bottle into the trash and snorted, “Good thing she left on her own. Saved me the trouble of checking the surveillance later.”

Jiang Baihe shook her head at the sight. “That’s the first time I’ve seen someone so… well, naive.”

She had seen people cause trouble, but never so obviously. However, the person’s logic was clear enough—bringing a spare bottle to lower someone’s guard.

“Probably some minor actor from nowhere without even a manager following her,” Song Jia complained. “And she still dares to try and poison someone.”

“It’s likely not ‘poison’ per se,” Jiang Baihe turned the pages of her script calmly, as if she wasn’t the one who was almost targeted. “Probably just something small to make someone run to the bathroom during the audition.”

Song Jia looked at Jiang Baihe in surprise. “It’s one thing for me to have seen it all, but how do you know so much about this?”

Jiang Baihe’s hand paused on the script. She bit the tip of her tongue secretly, realizing she had been a bit too free lately and had almost forgotten her “scumbag Alpha” persona—she was drifting Out of Character (OOC).

She could only offer a vague excuse: “I just saw Li Ran use these little tricks during Shining 404.”

When in doubt, let others take the blame. Jiang Baihe lit a metaphorical candle for Li Ran in her heart, thanking her for the contribution.

“Fair enough.” Though Song Jia was a bit suspicious, she didn’t dig deeper, only lecturing: “Remember for the future—never touch or eat anything given by a stranger.”

“Mhm, mhm.”

Time ticked by. After waiting for nearly half an hour, Jiang Baihe finally heard her number called.

“Next, Miss Jiang Baihe. Please get ready and enter Room 2.”