After Being Marked by the Popular Female Lead O (GL) - Chapter 35.2

The Fourth Elder knew he couldn’t persuade Ju Zhan. He bowed his head even lower. “The Ancient Great Law is but a fragmented scroll. Especially the transfer of demonic blood—it is fraught with danger. Both sides must cooperate, or their souls might be scattered.”

Ju Zhan only paused for a moment before walking on without looking back. The snowflakes gradually covered her figure until she disappeared.

But when she emerged from seclusion, she never expected the way Qin Yun would welcome her.

With that, the flashback ended. Deng Yue called “Cut,” and the staff members on site couldn’t help but tear up.

After finishing the scene, Xie Qingshu fell into a deep state of emotion. She sat in her resting spot without a word. Some people wanted to approach, but at Deng Yue’s signal, they dispersed, leaving her in a quiet environment.

Xie Qingshu rarely had trouble snapping out of a character, but she knew she had to. After an unknown amount of time, she felt a source of warmth beside her. At first, she thought it was a staff member and didn’t care, until her nostrils twitched. She smelled pheromones that shouldn’t be here.

Her cheeks were cupped, and fingers gently stroked her skin.

Xie Qingshu had to open her eyes. After seeing who it was, her expression slowly turned to shock.

Zhou Que wickedly gave Xie Qingshu enough time to react. Once she sensed an intent to struggle, she moved to embrace her. She wouldn’t give her the chance to escape.

“Sister, why are you crying?”

Her voice was slightly hoarse, her tone a mix of heartache and amusement. Zhou Que saw the moisture in the corners of Xie Qingshu’s reddened eyes. Her heart itched, and she followed her instinct. Her cool fingertips brushed the corner of the eye, inducing a wave of tingling.

“Are you here to laugh at me?”

Xie Qingshu struggled twice but found it quite comfortable, so she stopped moving. She wouldn’t admit it, though, and deliberately avoided Zhou Que’s gaze.

Zhou Que stopped her hand. “How could I laugh at you?”

Xie Qingshu bit her lip and muttered, “That’s more like it.”

Though she only glanced at her, she noticed a difference in Zhou Que. It wasn’t just the weight loss from the rushed filming, but her spirit—she had become sharp, like a sword about to be unsheathed. It didn’t feel out of place; it felt as if that was the real her, unchanged.

Xie Qingshu suspected she felt this way only because she knew the other was an Alpha. If Song Mei were present, she would have recognized it as a “peacock spreading its feathers.”

Xie Qingshu suddenly realized that since Zhou Que was an Alpha, they shouldn’t be this close, even without the pheromone dependency. But before she could speak, Zhou Que voluntarily retreated to a safe distance. She didn’t even steal another glance. Had it not been for the previous action, anyone would have called her “obedient.” It was Xie Qingshu who seemed to be letting her down.

Xie Qingshu’s eyelid twitched. She felt something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Distracted by this, Xie Qingshu snapped out of character. She still didn’t want to talk to Zhou Que, but the latter wasn’t bothered, occasionally flashing a smile.

“Why are you back so early? Aren’t there three days of scenes left?” Deng Yue was quite surprised to see Zhou Que. He then realized something. “Did you pull several all-nighters?”

Zhou Que: “…”

Deng Yue looked at her, asking casually, “What’s the rush?”

“I’m afraid she’ll run away,” Zhou Que said pointedly, her peripheral vision on Xie Qingshu. She had received repeated assurances from Hu Li.

“Afraid who will run? The character is already halfway through.” Deng Yue didn’t catch the meaning at all. He gave a few simple instructions and began arranging the departments for the next scene.

Xie Qingshu: “…”

Xie Qingshu looked at her script absentmindedly. She truly hadn’t expected Zhou Que to rush her scenes like that. She wasn’t conceited enough to think it was because of her. Thinking that the girl was now the head of the Bai family, she assumed she was rushing to finish filming to go back to business.

To rush for a project like that, it must be something very important.

Xie Qingshu knew the schedule by heart. At this rate, they would be finished in half a month. Once we wrap up, I won’t have to see her anymore, right?

The hand turning the script paused. This movement was caught by Zhou Que, who felt a sense of inquiry. She wanted to know what Xie Qingshu was thinking. Anything was fine, as long as it wasn’t Su Hui.

Using the name Z, Zhou Que deeply regretted her previous whim.

Since Zhou Que was back, Deng Yue’s original plan was put into action, and the filming became even more intense. Zhou Que could only sleep for a few hours before having to film again. Any other starlet would have been unhappy, but Zhou Que actually looked somewhat pleased.

Xie Qingshu: Is this kid a bit silly? She doesn’t look smart at all. She coldly retracted all her previous evaluations of Zhou Que.

In the Demon Lord’s palace, festivities lasted all night. The air was thick with extravagance. Most demons were graceful, and dancers displayed their figures on stage, trying to catch the eye of someone important.

But Qin Yun was disinterested, staring at her wine glass. The dancers shifted their targets. Suddenly, the decadent music stopped, replaced by clear, crisp instruments—the sound of spring water—drawing everyone’s eyes to the stage.

A woman had appeared in the center, dressed in demonic robes that exposed a great deal of skin. Her waist was more slender and graceful than any dancer present. Her face was hidden by a veil, her eyes as bright as stars. Though she stood there being judged and becoming the center of malicious conversation, her gaze remained calm and pitying.

No dancer could possess such an aura.

Qin Yun finally moved. She poured wine over the woman’s body, the transparent fabric further capturing everyone’s attention. This was a blatant humiliation.

Ju Zhan had never experienced this. Her eyes reddened slightly, her expression dazed, not understanding why they, master and disciple, had come to this. Do we have to torture each other to survive?

Ju Zhan looked straight at Qin Yun.

“Come, let’s see a dance,” the latter chuckled, her attitude contemptuous, her gaze as if looking at an ant.

Seeing this, the crowd relaxed. Laughter broke out, and no one paid any more attention to the underlying tension, some even letting their gazes wander over Ju Zhan’s body.

Ju Zhan did not move.

“Then I shall have to kill you,” Qin Yun’s voice was very soft, but the killing intent was real.

Ju Zhan still didn’t move. She didn’t know how to dance; Qin Yun knew that.

A sword flew toward Ju Zhan, intending to flick away the veil. Ju Zhan dodged quickly. The sword hit the ground, shattering into ash and scattering in the wind.

“Demon Lord, if you don’t like her, why not give her to me…” The man didn’t notice Qin Yun’s darkening gaze. He pushed aside the dancers and walked toward Ju Zhan. “Little beauty, come with me.”

Sensing the change in atmosphere, even the music stopped. The man was a high-ranking demon general, good at playing both sides. Usually, by saying a few nice words, people would turn a blind eye, so he was rarely challenged.

He thought it would be the same this time. He took two steps, intending to embrace Ju Zhan.

Normally, Ju Zhan wouldn’t give him the chance to get close. Now, she could only clench her fists under her robes, lacking the strength to resist. Is this what Qin Yun wanted to tell her? That she couldn’t survive in the Demon Realm without her?

But at the moment he was about to touch Ju Zhan, the brave demon general turned into smoke. He didn’t even have time for a final plea.

The people below weren’t blind. They immediately knelt in a large mass. Various sounds intertwined, but all were of fear toward the person on the high seat.

Qin Yun smiled. She hadn’t even lifted a finger; those who laughed or harbored ill intent had “handled” themselves.

The hall was silent. Ju Zhan still stood there, not a single drop of blood on her. Nothing had anything to do with her.

Qin Yun hated this Ju Zhan. She had done everything rebellious in the world, yet she still couldn’t get what she wanted most. She walked down.

“My Venerable Master is truly amazing. In such a short time, you’ve already made someone willing to die for you.”

Qin Yun’s words were meant to hurt, but what she saw was Ju Zhan’s calm gaze. Her heart was shaken, unable to find peace. It seemed she could cross all those barriers and humiliations and return to a time when nothing had happened.

Qin Yun’s heart raced. She even thought: Let’s just end it here. This is good enough. We don’t have to torture each other anymore.

The next second, she was thrown back into hell.

Ju Zhan’s voice was icy: “There has long been no master-disciple relationship between us. Qin Yun, you are a demon.”

The aura began to riot. Everything around them began to shatter—the glazed cups, the instruments—all turned to nothing. But not a single shard fell on Ju Zhan. Her neck was gripped tightly, her breath becoming thin, the voice in her ear almost a roar.

“You clearly saw what I wanted!”

“Why won’t you give it to me? Even you belong to me. All of you is mine.”

“You have to give it to me…”

The worst and most secret part of Qin Yun’s heart—the only bit of sincerity hidden behind the humiliations—had been torn open and exposed, only to be stepped on and discarded.

The one imprisoned was Ju Zhan, but the one in more pain was Qin Yun.

This was their first collaboration in a long time. Although the chemistry was still there, Deng Yue felt something had changed. He insisted on many takes, only letting it pass when the result was near perfect. During the process, Deng Yue thought about making adjustments but feared it would backfire, so he gave up.

Xie Qingshu felt a slight pain whenever her neck was touched. Even though Zhou Que’s grip was skillful and she was being deliberately gentle, after multiple takes, the skin inevitably reddened. Finger marks left a striking trail on the snowy white neck; she didn’t realize that they looked like marks left after being bullied.

“Sister Qingshu, why are you using a barrier patch?” a makeup artist asked casually. Xie Qingshu had strong pheromone control and rarely used them—a fact known to many fans.

“I just felt like putting one on,” Xie Qingshu explained. In reality, when Zhou Que held her neck, she would occasionally touch the scent gland. She could tell Zhou Que was trying her best to avoid it, but she still couldn’t control it perfectly.

Fortunately, the barrier patches for Alphas and Omegas were similar, making it hard to tell the difference.