A Scum Alpha Tool Character's Code of Conduct - Chapter 8

With the pot secured, the six of them finally reached the long-awaited lunchtime.

Having spent years in the entertainment industry, An Tianlang was quite capable of regulating his emotions. Looking at An Lingqing beside Wen Jiao, he lowered his head in silence for a moment before walking over.

“No idea what kind of torment the production team has planned for us over the next few days.”

An Tianlang crouched beside An Lingqing and watched as she instructed Wen Jiao on how to use the fire-starting tools they had made.

An Lingqing glanced at him and subtly shifted a little closer to Wen Jiao.

“That’s true. Which is exactly why it’s important to eat our fill at lunch.”

Watching An Lingqing leave him nothing but the back of her head, a darker shadow flickered through An Tianlang’s eyes.

The person he liked—

He would definitely have.

After glancing around and confirming that everyone else was busy preparing ingredients on the other side, a faint scent of tobacco began emanating from him.

Wen Jiao immediately looked up.

Before her brain even processed what was happening, her Alpha instincts had already reacted, instinctively pushing back against the invasive signal released by another Alpha.

Caught between the two, An Lingqing frowned tightly.

The nauseating tobacco scent made her feel uncomfortable all over.

Fortunately, a faint fragrance of tea drifted over from the other side and forcefully drove away the tobacco scent, giving her room to breathe.

An Tianlang, who had been crouching steadily, suddenly looked as if someone had shoved him.

He fell onto the ground and coughed twice.

Clearly, in this clash between Alphas—

Wen Jiao won.

“Pheromones.”

After turning off both her own and Wen Jiao’s microphones, An Lingqing leaned close and whispered the reminder into her ear.

Surrounded by Alpha pheromones, An Lingqing felt like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, utterly lacking any sense of security.

Only then did Wen Jiao realize what had happened.

This wasn’t an appropriate situation to take suppressants, so she could only awkwardly rely on the methods she had memorized by rote, slowly reining in the pheromones she had released.

From a distance, Zhang Lanyi glanced at the somewhat disheveled An Tianlang and curled her lips into a mocking smile.

Considering how thoroughly Wen Jiao and An Lingqing had embarrassed him, she decided she would refrain from setting traps for them—for now.

“The fire’s lit.”

Looking at the flame that had finally appeared, Wen Jiao let out a sigh of relief.

Starting a fire by friction was genuinely exhausting.

She carefully added the dried leaves and branches everyone had gathered, ensuring the flame burned steadily before transferring it to the makeshift stove built from several stones.

Then she filled the pot with fresh water and set it over the fire.

“Can you handle grilled fish?”

Adding another piece of firewood, Wen Jiao asked softly.

Originally, she had planned to make fish soup.

But they would be entering the forest that afternoon, and everyone preferred carrying as much drinking water as possible.

They couldn’t afford to waste any.

“I can. I’m not that delicate.”

An Lingqing quietly watched the dancing flames.

Words of thanks lingered on the tip of her tongue but ultimately remained unspoken.

“Once we’re in the forest, there could be dangers. The mosquito-repelling herbs we brought back can also drive away other insects. You can carry some with you, or rub them onto any exposed skin.”

Wen Jiao spoke seriously.

“Compared to true survival situations, we’re taking it easy, but judging from the production team’s arrangements, it probably won’t be that simple.”

Listening to the soft crackling of the fire, An Lingqing quietly responded.

“Mm.”

“And if things become too difficult, ask the production team for help. Nobody knows what kind of accidents could happen in the forest. Being dedicated is one thing, but don’t trade your safety for professionalism.”

Wen Jiao tossed another branch into the fire.

“Since I accepted this show, then naturally I’ll do my best.”

With their microphones still switched off, their conversation became considerably more casual.

“The truth is, when it comes to being in the spotlight, I’m more of a Lord Ye Who Loved Dragons.”

Wen Jiao looked up and casually scanned the surroundings.

After confirming that even the staff weren’t paying attention to them, she lowered her voice.

“Before joining this show, I was excited about it. But now that I’m actually here, I’ve realized I don’t really want to live under the camera lens after all. So you’ve already fulfilled our agreement.”

“You really aren’t suited for variety shows.”

An Lingqing answered honestly.

“Actually, the best choice for you would be to quit now. The show hasn’t aired yet. Even if there are consequences, the impact would still be limited.”

Wen Jiao sighed softly.

“But I still want to finish it. Even though I no longer have dreams of becoming famous, this will probably still be a very special experience in my life.”

Silly heroine.

During the first few episodes, you were practically dragged from popularity into infamy. You suffered quite a lot before your destined Alpha finally appeared and turned things around.

Moreover, seeing An Lingqing work so hard for her dream made Wen Jiao want to help her.

At the very least, she didn’t want everyone to think that everything An Lingqing achieved later in life was simply the result of luck.

But these thoughts remained unspoken.

“You’re not her, are you?”

An Lingqing suddenly asked.

Wen Jiao’s heartbeat froze for a moment.

She turned toward An Lingqing.

When those eyes grew serious, they resembled moonlight cutting through the darkness, illuminating the truth from afar.

“You’re very smart.”

Wen Jiao exhaled deeply.

It was an indirect admission.

“If it were her, then even if I couldn’t protect my own reputation, I’d drag her down with me.”

An Lingqing’s tone was calm.

But Wen Jiao could hear that she meant every word.

“I think… that’s a bit extreme.”

Wen Jiao hesitated before speaking.

She avoided An Lingqing’s gaze.

For someone who had struggled so desperately just to survive, perhaps she had no right to say such things.

“Maybe it is. So what?”

An Lingqing showed no anger whatsoever.

Instead, a sweet smile appeared on her face, her eyes curving with amusement.

“I’m exactly that kind of extreme person. Are you scared?”

Steam slowly rose.

Tiny bubbles drifted upward through the water before bursting on the surface.

“What I mean is, you should treat yourself better.”

Wen Jiao said quietly.

“If you cut your finger, use medicine. If you’re upset, lose your temper. The people who truly love you will tolerate those little flaws. You’re a person, not a god.”

When reading the novel, Wen Jiao had noticed that An Lingqing cared about her fans far more than ordinary celebrities did.

Whether attending events or holding concerts, she demanded perfection from herself.

There was nothing wrong with that.

“A professional should decide an artist’s career path. Don’t let your fans decide it for you. Fans are people too, and people are selfish.”

Wen Jiao continued.

“Some of your fans have already placed their own vanity above your wellbeing, haven’t they?”

“Their love is the most selfless thing there is. They don’t ask for anything in return.”

An Lingqing’s composure suddenly cracked.

“Many of them have never even met me, yet they’re willing to support and encourage me. Wen Jiao, you have no right to say those things.”

Blocking the camera’s view of her, Wen Jiao didn’t dare continue.

She simply waited for An Lingqing to calm down.

The wind itself seemed frozen.

Silence settled between them.

“Wen Jiao, we’re not that close.”

After a long pause, An Lingqing finally spoke.

“My life and my career don’t need your commentary.”

Leaving behind those painfully distant words, she turned and walked away.

Humans really are impulsive creatures.

Wen Jiao set the pot on the ground, making sure the fire wouldn’t go out while waiting for the boiled water to cool.

“Miss Wen, how good are you at grilling fish?”

Zhang Lanyi looked first at An Lingqing’s departing figure, then at Wen Jiao.

After switching off her microphone, she asked curiously:

“How exactly did you manage to make her angry?”

Wen Jiao glanced at her but said nothing.

“No need to be so guarded. I don’t have any ill intentions toward you. And honestly, I don’t have any major ill intentions toward An Lingqing either.”

Zhang Lanyi ignored the silence and continued talking.

“I’ve been messing with her for years, and she’s never truly gotten angry. You two haven’t even known each other that long, so how did you manage it?”

All she received in response was Wen Jiao’s cold profile.

“Tch. What a boring Alpha. With a personality like yours, you’ll never win over an Omega you like.”

Standing up, Zhang Lanyi silently complained to herself.

No wonder people said birds of a feather flock together.

Wen Jiao and An Lingqing were clearly the same type—both completely incompatible with her.

“Miss Wen, do you know how to grill fish?”

After filling the water bottles the production team had provided with cooled boiled water, Wen Jiao had just begun thinking about what to do next when she heard An Tianlang’s voice.

Carrying the water bottle, she walked over.

“Miss Wen, we’ve cleaned these fish as best we can. Even though the awful production team refuses to provide any seasonings, at least once they’re cooked we’ll know they aren’t poisonous.”

An Lingqing wore her trademark smile and blinked playfully.

“But right now we’re facing a very serious problem. Miss Wen, would you like to guess what it is?”

Looking at An Lingqing like this, Wen Jiao felt a faint bitterness spreading through her chest.

She couldn’t quite explain why.

“I know how to grill fish.”

Taking the fish skewered on a branch, Wen Jiao instructed everyone to bring the remaining fish over to the fire.

She divided them into three groups, with two people sharing each fire.

Simply cooking them thoroughly wasn’t difficult.

Wen Jiao quietly reminded everyone to turn the fish occasionally.

To everyone’s surprise, lunch was completed without any major issues.

Perhaps the director felt that everyone was enjoying their meal a little too comfortably.

Just as they finished eating and began resting, he suddenly introduced a new segment.

“Please tell us your impression of every participant, and also name the person you currently have the highest favorability toward.”

The director’s announcement left everyone staring at one another.

Sharing impressions was easy enough.

But publicly naming the person you liked most?

In front of everyone?

This was obviously meant to stir up trouble.

Wen Jiao maintained her usual cold expression.

Perhaps it was simply her nature.

Aside from An Lingqing, she felt neither particular affection nor dislike toward any of the others.

“We’ll go in alphabetical order by surname. First, An Lingqing will answer both questions.”

The director’s voice rang energetically through the loudspeaker.

Clearly, he was feeling increasingly confident about the show’s future ratings.