A Scum Alpha Tool Character's Code of Conduct - Chapter 7

The cameraman nearby watched the two of them apologizing to each other and inexplicably felt that the atmosphere was a little strange. It even gave him the feeling that he was somehow the unnecessary third party.

“Let’s head back. It looks like the people who went to look for water have returned.”

Pretending that nothing had happened, An Lingqing lifted her foot and walked out of the forest.

Wen Jiao watched her back. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, shimmering softly. Swaying with the breeze, it seemed to dance along with the treetops. The ponytail tied behind An Lingqing’s head bounced rhythmically with each step, dazzling to look at.

A faint smile, too subtle to notice, appeared at the corner of Wen Jiao’s lips as she followed behind.

“To make sure our guests don’t have to quit the show on the first day due to physical exhaustion, we’ve specially prepared a pot for boiling hot water. However, if you want the right to use this pot, everyone will need to work together.”

The director’s voice came through a loudspeaker from off-camera.

Wen Jiao paused.

Judging by the usual plot progression, the director was probably setting another trap.

What was the original storyline again?

She vaguely remembered it involved shooting arrows at a target marked with a pot to win it.

But in the end, none of the guests succeeded.

The Best Actor, who supposedly had “amazing arm strength,” shot an arrow that fell to the ground before it even reached the target.

And then…

How did that go again?

Thinking back, Wen Jiao remembered that his failure had eventually been blamed on An Lingqing’s casual smile at the time.

People had claimed that even heroes couldn’t resist beauty—that one smile from An Lingqing had distracted the Best Actor enough to ruin his shot.

The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed.

It was precisely because it was so absurd that she still remembered it.

Sure enough, just like in the novel, the staff brought out a target.

The target was divided into two halves:

One side had a picture of a pot.

The other side had a smiling face.

A mocking smile.

From about seventy meters away.

Wen Jiao narrowed her eyes and estimated the distance.

She had to admit that the production team wasn’t holding back. Without genuine skill, missing the target would be perfectly normal.

Still, she remembered that An Tianlang’s fans had once boasted that he was an exceptional archer.

The production team had probably believed them and designed this segment specifically to let the Best Actor show off.

“How do you feel about it?”

Wen Jiao leaned toward An Lingqing and asked quietly.

Without turning around, An Lingqing replied somewhat troubled,

“I’ll be lucky if I can hit the target at all. The distance is a little too far for me.”

Even the way she spoke was adorable.

Being the female lead and maintaining her image must be exhausting.

Wen Jiao sighed inwardly.

She always felt that the real An Lingqing was probably quiet and aloof by nature.

But she must genuinely love her work as well.

“Wow, Best Actor An! Archery is your specialty. Whether we get hot water today depends entirely on you!”

Qi Yujie looked at An Tianlang with eyes full of admiration.

His exaggerated tone was perfectly measured—lively enough to energize the atmosphere without making things awkward.

As expected of a seasoned variety show personality.

Su Ze chimed in as well.

“That’s right. I’ve wanted to see Senior’s archery skills for a long time.”

Normally fond of joining in and maintaining her persona, Zhang Lanyi was unusually quiet.

She simply stood to the side with a faint smile.

An Tianlang responded coolly to the praise, offering a polite yet distant smile before turning his perpetually melancholic gaze toward An Lingqing.

“Good luck, Senior!”

An Lingqing’s voice was bright and energetic.

Just hearing it made people happy.

A smile instantly filled An Tianlang’s eyes.

It looked like the sweetness of being encouraged by a lover.

Or perhaps merely the gratitude of being encouraged by a friend.

In any case, he handled that ambiguous atmosphere perfectly.

Wen Jiao lowered her eyes and quietly looked at everyone’s shadows.

Before coming here, she had imagined participating in the show would be much simpler.

At this rate, by the time filming ended, she’d probably be blacklisted into oblivion.

“I wonder how Miss Wen’s archery skills are?”

While Wen Jiao was deeply reflecting on her poor life choices, she suddenly felt a pair of fair hands tug at her sleeve.

Looking up, she unsurprisingly met a familiar pair of apricot-shaped eyes.

“You were daydreaming?”

An Lingqing asked.

Wen Jiao felt a little flustered.

From this angle, she could see her own reflection in An Lingqing’s eyes.

“Mm. I’m a little hungry.”

She casually came up with an excuse.

“Did you need something?”

“Miss Wen, to make sure everyone can have hot water for lunch, we’d like to know how good everyone’s archery is. The others are colleagues and already familiar with each other, so there’s no need to ask. But we’re still unfamiliar with your abilities, so we thought we’d ask first.”

An Tianlang stepped forward and spoke to her.

Wen Jiao took half a step back.

She disliked having to tilt her head up while talking to people.

Objectively speaking, this male Alpha was quite handsome.

At least 185 centimeters tall.

No wonder he had so many fans.

But Wen Jiao wasn’t interested in this type of man.

Her gaze unconsciously drifted toward An Lingqing before she quickly looked away.

“I’m decent.”

Three simple words.

Then she turned to look at the target, clearly indicating she had no intention of continuing the conversation.

“Why are you so cold toward me, Miss Wen? Alphas may occasionally reject one another instinctively, but most of the time we’re perfectly capable of controlling those emotions.”

An Tianlang stepped forward again, reclaiming the distance she had created and attempting to use his height advantage to suppress her presence.

Wen Jiao frowned.

What was wrong with this guy?

She was just a civilian guest. It wasn’t like she was competing with him for attention.

“Miss Wen treats everyone this way.”

“I treat all strangers this way!”

A sweet voice and a cold voice rang out simultaneously.

Wen Jiao and An Lingqing looked at each other.

Their brows unconsciously relaxed.

“Oh? Looks like Miss Wen and Lingqing have pretty good chemistry.”

Qi Yujie lit up instantly and began stirring up trouble again.

“Miss Wen, since you say you’re cold toward people you aren’t familiar with, does that mean Lingqing is considered someone familiar to you—or not?”

Wen Jiao looked at his eyes, which seemed to contain eight hundred different schemes.

“Please wipe that look of excitement off your face. It’s annoying.”

She walked around everyone and stood off to the side with a cold expression, making it very clear that she wanted to be left alone.

The atmosphere immediately dropped to freezing temperatures.

The director’s heartbeat skyrocketed.

Why did Wen Jiao have to be one of the investors?

Otherwise, he swore these conflicts would become trending topics once the show aired.

Qi Yujie had never encountered someone like this before.

Every ordinary guest he’d worked with either behaved properly or followed the assigned persona and script.

But Wen Jiao simply didn’t care.

She seemed completely unconcerned about maintaining an image.

“Enough already. Hurry up and shoot. I’m starving.”

Zhang Lanyi suddenly spoke.

She disliked both An Lingqing and Qi Yujie.

But while her conflict with An Lingqing was straightforward—mutual dislike and open competition—

Qi Yujie was the type who liked to play tricks behind people’s backs.

Six people.

Six bows.

Whether they could hit the target was another matter, but at least everyone looked impressive while posing.

To make the “Battle for the Pot” more entertaining, An Tianlang—the contestant everyone expected to succeed—was arranged to shoot last.

An Lingqing volunteered to go first.

She knew her own ability well enough.

If she somehow hit the target, it would be a pleasant surprise.

Wen Jiao was second to last.

She stood lazily to one side when a staff member waved her over.

“Miss Wen, the director asked me to pass this phone to you. It’s regarding a personal matter. It’s somewhat urgent and needs your attention now.”

Wen Jiao accepted the phone and walked to a spot outside the camera’s range to deal with company business.

“There’s no need to ask me about these things.”

The previous Wen Jiao had been extremely suspicious and controlling, personally involving herself in every decision.

As a result, her subordinates reported every little matter to her.

Handling all that work had nearly exhausted Wen Jiao.

“The company is full of experienced employees. I’ve seen your capabilities over the years. You can handle matters like this yourselves.”

Rubbing her temples with her knuckles, she felt a headache coming on.

She really didn’t want to use her brain.

By the time she finished the call, about ten minutes had passed.

Perhaps because she was busy, the competition had already continued without her.

As she walked back, she saw An Tianlang drawing his bowstring.

The arrow flew.

Missed.

The cheers died instantly.

Everyone stared at the arrow lying nowhere near the target.

An awkward silence filled the air.

“What happened? Is there something wrong with the bow?”

Qi Yujie immediately demonstrated why he was An Tianlang’s most loyal fan.

At least he was brave enough to speak.

“Yeah, yeah! Maybe the production team gave him a defective bow, so the Best Actor couldn’t perform properly.”

Su Ze quickly chimed in.

As a rising idol, he very much wanted to establish a connection with the Best Actor.

Of the six participants, however, only Qi Yujie and Su Ze spoke up.

An Lingqing and Zhang Lanyi—the infamous plastic-sister duo—merely maintained awkward but polite smiles.

When Wen Jiao returned, this was the scene she walked into.

“Is it my turn?”

Whether An Tianlang had genuinely made a mistake or simply lacked the skill didn’t matter.

Wen Jiao had no intention of giving up that pot.

“Oh, right! Over here!”

A staff member hurriedly handed her a bow and arrow.

“Honestly, it’s fine even without the pot. The pond where we got water looked pretty clean.”

Just as Qi Yujie was quietly comforting An Tianlang—

Whoosh!

An arrow shot through the air and embedded itself firmly in the target.

Directly in the center of the pot icon.

“Can we have the pot now?”

Turning around, Wen Jiao calmly asked the staff.

At first, no one had paid any attention to her shot.

Which made the current situation even more awkward than when An Tianlang had missed.

The expression on An Tianlang’s face nearly cracked.

If nobody had hit the target, that would have been one thing.

But now the person everyone expected to succeed had failed,

while the person nobody cared about had struck the center dead-on.

The director was excited again.

He felt like taking a gamble.

Everyone already assumed he’d edit out certain scenes anyway, and nobody had specifically told him not to.

Wasn’t this the perfect opportunity?

If nobody objected, then he couldn’t be blamed for showing the truth for once.