After Transmigrating into a Book, I Finally Have an Omega - Chapter 6

Being distrusted is disheartening, but being spoken to with such blunt honesty made Cen Xin feel grounded. That Nanxi didn’t deceive her just to use her was, in itself, the greatest act of kindness.

Chao Nanxi noticed the little assistant’s eyelashes trembling at her words. Was I too harsh?

She leaned forward, her breath drawing closer. Amidst her calm, self-contained voice, a wealth of emotion added a rich texture to her tone.

“If you have doubts, you can ask me.”

Chao Nanxi wasn’t used to explaining herself, but facing Cen Xin, she somehow found a newfound patience. The sparkle in the little assistant’s eyes held a static tenderness; without even trying, she had secured a private corner of Nanxi’s heart.

Cen Xin was lost in the sound of that voice; she barely heard what Nanxi actually said. Her fascination with Nanxi had begun with her voice—specifically, with Nanxi’s very first line of dialogue after her debut.

In that play, Nanxi played a supporting role with few lines but immense significance. Several scenes took place in near-darkness, where both body language and facial expressions were obscured. Yet the moment Nanxi spoke, the lines were interpreted through her voice so powerfully that they became an unsurpassable classic.

In her shock, Cen Xin realized that for a genius, even a voice is a weapon.

Chao Nanxi picked up the paper and handed it to Cen Xin. After Nanxi stood up, the little assistant remained in a semi-squatting position, looking up at her.

“We weren’t close before, and my contact with you was nearly zero.”

Nanxi had combed through the original’s memories several times and found nothing directly related to Cen Xin. Thinking of how the “original” Cen Xin had ended up as cannon fodder, Chao Nanxi instinctively reached out—since they had met now, she couldn’t just stand by.

A slender hand with well-proportioned knuckles reached down from above. Nanxi stood with her back to the light, looking like a deity. That hand was offered only to her, a gesture of salvation with no hidden agenda.

Cen Xin wanted to take it. She did. She carefully touched the fingertips, then grew bold enough to interlock their fingers. It was a scent of peppermint mixed with flowers—broad and clear, yet hiding a deep, pulsing warmth.

How could anyone refuse?

Nanxi had changed; she was blunt and real, no longer unreachable or detached from the world.

“Cen Xin, regardless of what happened before, it doesn’t stop me from trusting you starting now.”

Having made herself clear, Chao Nanxi handed over a new phone she had taken from her brother’s company. “If you still want to change jobs, I won’t stop you. But you must accept this phone.”

Cen Xin shook her head in refusal.

“This is basic equipment for an assistant. Consider it a back-payment for before. Besides, if you’re willing to stay, I’ll only need you more and more. Think of this as me openly bribing you to my side.”

Chao Nanxi finished and gave Cen Xin a playful wink. The flirtatious gesture carried a hint of endearment, sending massive waves through Cen Xin’s heart. Nanxi offered so much “special treatment” that Cen Xin couldn’t help but want to draw closer. Like a traveler who has trekked through a blizzard for too long, the slightest hint of light and warmth made her greedy.

Who wouldn’t like warmth and beauty?

Cen Xin clutched the phone, her heartbeat echoing clearly in her ears. She felt… charmed. Following the phrase “except you,” the words “need you more and more” had claimed the high ground.

Perhaps this was the charisma of an Alpha—every gesture naturally drew people in. They didn’t intend to attract anyone, yet they always revealed details full of charm.

Cen Xin put on her hat, using the “ostrich” method of hiding to calm herself. Nanxi was still far out of reach—at least to someone as lowly as her.

Chao Nanxi and Cen Xin set up their new phones during dinner. Identical models and colors sat side-by-side on the table, planting a seed of excitement in Cen Xin’s heart.

Nanxi forgot to silence her phone. Starting from 8:00 PM, social media notifications chimed one after another. The constant pinging drew the attention of others in the restaurant.

Nanxi muted the sound, while Cen Xin clicked into Weibo. Apology videos were appearing one by one on the Studio’s official account, each tagging Nanxi. During this prime time, the videos spread with lightning speed. Amidst the heated public discussion, they shot straight to the top of the trending searches.

The tag #Nanxi, I’m Sorry# was the first to claim a spot.

Initially, netizens thought it was a publicity stunt. But upon clicking, they realized it was nothing of the sort. Each video detailed the person’s specific transgressions against Nanxi. The chain of evidence was complete and undeniable; there was no room for excuses.

Netizens following the drama never expected that everyone in this studio except Nanxi was a villain. This series of embezzlements, deceptions, and betrayals made most people feel indignant, and they couldn’t help but feel sorry for Nanxi.

“Tagging the police right now! I’m saying it under my real name: these people deserve the worst. Taking a high salary while being a traitor—their hearts are pitch black.”

“I used to just think Nanxi’s studio was useless, but now I know the staff were rotten to the core. So many news stories that hurt Nanxi’s career were actually caused by them. Nanxi is truly tragic.”

The chain reaction from the videos continued to ferment, bringing Nanxi an unprecedented level of buzz. Beyond feeling sorry for her, the public developed an intense curiosity about her.

And this was exactly what Chao Nanxi needed.

The original Nanxi was an “ethereal, cold artist” who never interacted with fans outside of acting. As a result, people only liked her characters in movies; her personal popularity was quite average. Chao Nanxi remembered the book mentioned Nanxi quietly left the industry after a “scandal.” Looking back, it was likely tied to this detached, unapproachable persona.

This time, she wouldn’t let Nanxi’s career end in shadows. Since she didn’t know what dangers lay ahead, she might as well expose everything to the public eye. If she was going down, she’d drag those who harmed her to hell with her.

Just as the tide of sympathy for Nanxi seemed unanimous, a sudden wave of “Holy Mother” (excessive moralizing) logic surged forth.

“Nanxi, you already have so much, why won’t you let these staff members go? They did wrong, sure, but just fire them. Give people a way out. Why must you drive them to a dead end?”

This comment actually became a top-liked post. It clearly smelled fishy.

“Let’s go,” Chao Nanxi said, putting away her phone, completely unbothered.

“Sister Nan…” Seeing the replies under that comment growing, Cen Xin was anxious.

“I’ll handle it,” Chao Nanxi gave the little assistant a reassuring smile. She had seen this tactic too many times to care. “Right now, let’s go shopping.”

At 9:00 PM, there weren’t many people in the supermarket. Cen Xin and Chao Nanxi pushed a cart through the aisles. To maintain the “ethereal artist” persona, Nanxi suppressed her shopping urges, occasionally asking the assistant: “How about this one?”

She picked up an item that was nearing its expiration date—the “best by” date was midnight tonight. Before her debut, Cen Xin (the real one) had worked in a supermarket. She knew that these perfectly fine food items would be thrown away if no one bought them, even at a discount.

Cen Xin was surprised; she didn’t believe Nanxi hadn’t seen the bright discount tag.

“For people on a budget, these discounted foods are like a surprise. The price is great, and other than the appearance, there’s nothing wrong with them.”

“Sounds interesting,” Chao Nanxi tossed the food into the cart. “Feels like a treasure hunt.”

She actually enjoyed finding fun in these clearance items, but following the assistant’s explanation, she deliberately acted as if it were a novel experience. She was enthusiastic and showed no disdain, which made Cen Xin breathe a sigh of relief.

Without realizing it, Cen Xin had begun to care about Nanxi’s opinion of her. In the two years she had worked for Nanxi, she had never felt this way.

Nanxi pushed the cart forward and leaned down to pick out some yogurt. Cen Xin worked up the courage to recommend a brand. Their hands reached out at the same time, landing on the yogurt one after the other. More accurately, Chao Nanxi’s hand landed on the back of Cen Xin’s hand.

Inside the refrigerated case, both their hands looked pearly white under the lights. It was only then that Chao Nanxi realized the little assistant’s skin was incredibly soft.

“Seems you really like this one,” Chao Nanxi changed to grasping Cen Xin’s wrist, and together they placed the yogurt in the cart. “Then I definitely have to try it.”

As Chao Nanxi went to pay, Cen Xin deliberately trailed a step behind. The hand she hid behind her back felt hot; Nanxi’s slightly higher body temperature didn’t dissipate. A slight itch spread along her veins, eventually flowing back to her heart, stirring up ripples of emotion.

The two carried their bags toward the supermarket exit. Chao Nanxi felt once again that having only one assistant wasn’t enough.

Suddenly, flashbulbs went off—a blinding wall of light. A large number of media members had gathered outside the supermarket at some point. Lenses swiveled toward Nanxi, capturing her image amidst the sound of shutters.

“Nanxi! There are rumors that your staff members had to take out shark loans to pay you back. Isn’t it a bit cruel to drive them to such an extreme?”

“Nanxi, according to an insider, it’s because of your bad temper that the staff couldn’t take it and did bad things. Is that true?”

Author’s Note:

Little Assistant’s Work Diary:

She said she trusts me from now on.

Phone +1.

Chao Nanxi is the ultimate “straight woman” (clueless about romance) and doesn’t even know it.