A Scum Alpha Tool Character's Code of Conduct - Chapter 3

With the Wen family’s financial power, joining Wilderness Survival was not a difficult matter.

For the production team, an additional investor and a non-celebrity participant meant extra funding and fresh talking points—both were good things.

“Hello, I’m Wen Jiao. Nice to meet you. Please take care of me.”

In front of the cameras, Wen Jiao and An Lingqing acted like complete strangers. Even their greeting carried a sense of unfamiliarity.

An Lingqing looked at the hand extended toward her. With a gentle, well-behaved smile, she politely shook it.

A little soft.

Both of them thought the same thing at the same time, then very tacitly moved on to greet the others.

Compared to Wen Jiao, who had joined halfway through as a non-celebrity, An Lingqing’s surroundings were noticeably livelier.

Standing quietly in a corner, Wen Jiao had no intention of stealing the spotlight. She pretended to rest while secretly observing An Lingqing interacting with others.

“Long time no see, Lingqing. Why haven’t you been showing up recently?”

The speaker was film queen Zhang Lanyi.

Compared to An Lingqing’s gentle elegance, this award-winning actress was known as the pinnacle of bold, striking beauty. However, even that so-called “ceiling of intense beauty” did not quite stand higher than Wen Jiao’s barefaced looks.

For some reason, An Lingqing found herself unconsciously comparing Wen Jiao and Zhang Lanyi’s appearances.

But that single glance was enough for the “secretly watching” Wen Jiao to quickly look away in panic.

She pretended there was a flower on the ground and focused intensely on it, ears still perked up.

“I was busy with work for a while, so I took a short break recently.”

An Lingqing’s lips curled into a polite, practiced smile. Her refined features, under the so-called “top-tier beauty,” did not look plain at all—in fact, they were so elegant they were unforgettable.

“Then Lingqing is going to suffer in the next few days. I was really surprised when the production team announced the cast.”

Zhang Lanyi smiled brightly.

“But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I won’t let my Lingqing suffer at all!”

Hearing this, Wen Jiao couldn’t help silently complaining in her head: That ability to set traps in conversation… what a waste not to be planting trees instead.

Naturally, An Lingqing wasn’t foolish. Her smile remained steady, but a hint of resilience appeared in her eyes.

“Sister Lanyi, just focus on your own tasks. We’ll be divided into teams for the competition after all. I’ll do my best not to hold anyone back!”

Wen Jiao secretly enjoyed this. An Lingqing really knew how to make “plastic friendships” uncomfortable—turning the other person’s words back on them to establish her own image. Quite interesting.

Unable to gain the upper hand, Zhang Lanyi moved on to someone else.

“What are you doing hiding here?”

Although An Lingqing had just won a verbal exchange, it didn’t mean she enjoyed this kind of socializing. Seeing Wen Jiao quietly hiding in a corner, she walked over.

Wen Jiao, who had been happily watching the show, looked up at her, momentarily confused.

“Not familiar.”

She answered instinctively.

She wasn’t familiar with these people. And she also didn’t have a chance right now to act as a “tool” and farm An Lingqing’s favorability, so naturally she chose to be a background character.

What Wen Jiao didn’t realize was that, in front of the cameras, her slightly tense demeanor made her look even colder. The words “not familiar” also added an unintended hint of hostility between her and An Lingqing.

Zhang Lanyi didn’t miss this. She shot An Lingqing a satisfied, triumphant glance where the cameras couldn’t see and quietly added Wen Jiao to her list of people to win over.

An Lingqing, however, didn’t think Wen Jiao’s response was strange. Newcomers naturally got nervous in front of cameras.

Although she hadn’t spent much time with this version of Wen Jiao, she could already tell one thing: Wen Jiao’s heartbeat was slightly elevated—so much so that even her Alpha pheromones were starting to leak.

“Did you bring your suppressants?”

An Lingqing frowned slightly as she looked at Wen Jiao, who clearly hadn’t noticed this.

“Huh?”

Wen Jiao paused, then finally realized what she meant after a few seconds of confusion.

“Ah—yes, I did. Thanks for reminding me.”

Since she was participating in a survival variety show, Wen Jiao naturally wouldn’t come unprepared. Suppressants for pheromone control—considered essential supplies—were packed in double amounts and stored separately, just in case.

She quickly headed toward the resting room without cameras to take her medication.

The others exchanged knowing looks.

It seemed this newcomer didn’t have a very good attitude toward An Lingqing.

Meanwhile, actor An Tianlang approached An Lingqing.

“Long time no see, Lingqing.”

As a dominant Alpha and a top actor, he usually restrained his pheromones—but often unintentionally let them leak in front of An Lingqing.

The unpleasant scent made her irritated.

An Tianlang was a highly popular film star, with excellent acting skills and strong status in the industry. An Lingqing had once been his fan, until they actually met in person.

He often looked at her with that melancholy, affectionate gaze. Even when photographed together, he never corrected his expression. Yet whenever asked about relationships, he always claimed he was single and had no one he liked.

Because of this, tensions between their fanbases were constant.

Even though most of the photos only showed his affectionate expressions, the one who got criticized was always An Lingqing.

Fans of his often said, “Our brother looks affectionate even at a dog.”

Wen Jiao came out after taking her suppressant and saw exactly this scene—An Tianlang gazing at An Lingqing with deep, affectionate eyes.

Wen Jiao thought: So this is the supposedly ‘affectionate top actor’ from the novel? But An Lingqing clearly doesn’t like this overly obvious ‘affection.’

After hesitating for a moment, Wen Jiao walked back toward her original spot—but deliberately passed between them, casting a cold glance at the so-called “looks affectionate even at a dog” expression.

The sudden “third person with built-in cold air” instantly shattered the atmosphere.

“An Lingqing, how is your hands-on ability?”

The awkward silence became unbearable. After a few seconds of internal struggle, Wen Jiao turned and asked.

Unfortunately, she didn’t realize that her tone sounded more like an interrogation than casual conversation.

An Lingqing noticed it immediately. Looking at the oblivious Wen Jiao, her forced smile nearly cracked.

“It’s okay. If we ignore physical strength, my practical skills are pretty good.”

“Then anything involving physical strength, you can leave to me.”

Wen Jiao said seriously.

As a “tool character,” she needed to clearly define her role when farming favorability.