I Heard I Was the Scumbag Alpha of a Top-Tier Celebrity (GL) - Chapter 19

Time flew by.

When the sun was scorching the earth and the news was predicting that this year would be the hottest on record, the allocation of the new project in the institute was finally decided.

Unexpectedly, yet reasonably so, Hua Ran successfully obtained the project, while Gu Xin was inserted as an assistant, instructed to follow Hua Ran’s command fully.

Huo Yuanfei commented that Professor Ma was actually not very familiar with this project. Her previous work was mainly in military applications, with little experience in civil applications, so this time, it would likely fall entirely to Hua Ran and Gu Xin.

Hua Ran unceremoniously enlisted several PhD students to join them. Gu Xin never commented on Hua Ran’s choices, and Hua Ran never sought Gu Xin’s opinion.

The two seemed quite at odds. Huo Yuanfei, watching the development, kept shaking his head, saying he completely failed to understand Professor Ma’s intention. Putting these two together was like King Fuchai and King Goujian—one was arrogant and condescending, the other was enduring hardship with a determined spirit—a modern rendition of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods.

Gu Xin immediately asked him if he had been listening to storytelling broadcasts lately. Huo Yuanfei chuckled and even sent Gu Xin a link.

Only when preparations were almost complete did Hua Ran finally notify Gu Xin in the software: [Time to go. We depart at 6:50 AM tomorrow.]

And so, Gu Xin boarded the plane bound for W City.

The plane sliced through layers of clouds. Sunlight refracted in the haze. High above, at ten thousand feet, was a place humanity once only dreamed of reaching. Looking down, even the widest plains became tiny.

Gu Xin only looked at the sun for a moment before closing her eyes. She caught up on sleep. When she woke up again, the flight attendant informed everyone that they had encountered brief turbulence and asked them not to panic.

The PhD student sitting next to Gu Xin, presumably experiencing turbulence for the first time, was visibly pale with nervousness, gripping the armrest tightly.

Perhaps Gu Xin’s gaze was too intense, as the PhD student finally turned to look at her.

“Aren’t you scared?” she whispered.

The PhD student was clearly a Beta as well. She had an ordinary appearance, with heavy bangs and large black-rimmed glasses. As she spoke, her eyes darted away, as if someone were about to devour her.

Gu Xin looked at her, not for any other reason, but because it was the first time she had seen someone afraid of flying in real life, and she was slightly curious.

She said, “Why be afraid? The view outside is quite beautiful. It would be a shame to spend the whole time being scared.”

The sky was clear then. A towering structure jutted up, piercing the clouds, revealing a beautiful, sharp corner in the vast white expanse.

The PhD student said, “It’s beautiful, but… I’m still scared.”

Gu Xin thought for a long time, feeling she still couldn’t relate. So she said: “Then keep being scared. You’ll arrive before you know it.”

The PhD student was quite astonished: “I-I thought you would comfort me…”

“There are so many people in the world who are afraid of flying. How tired would I be if I went and comforted every single one?” Gu Xin thought for a moment and added a supplement: “Besides, in life, many fears must be overcome by yourself. Come on, I believe in you.”

She even gave a fist-pump gesture at the end.

The PhD student quietly said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Although she didn’t know which of her words had resonated, Gu Xin nodded calmly. She pulled her eye mask back down, closed her eyes, and said, “Could you please wake me up when we’re close to landing?”

“Okay.” The PhD student nodded obediently. She looked at Gu Xin’s gentle lower face and thought, So the rumors about her being arrogant aren’t entirely true after all.

*

After Yan Shuangshuang joined the crew, she started a life of rising earlier than a chicken and sleeping later than a dog.

Ying Lu’s demands for the film were incredibly high. Not only was she nitpicky about the props and sets, but her demands on the actors were also outrageous.

The female and male leads had to get up before dawn to work in the fields, and when they returned, they had to seriously study farming knowledge, working so hard they wished for three shifts a day.

Yan Shuangshuang not only had to do the same work as the male and female leads, but she also had to memorize lines, familiarize herself with the character’s personality, and learn the local dialect simultaneously. This was because the protagonist of the story was a village girl from the mountains, an Alpha who had been weak and timid since childhood, doing the most work but receiving the worst treatment.

Upon receiving the character profile, Yan Shuangshuang seriously asked Ying Lu if she was crazy. Her status as an Omega was common knowledge, and she had even trended for pretending to be an Alpha.

To still have her play an Alpha—Yan Shuangshuang couldn’t think of any other reason besides Ying Lu wanting to make a big statement.

Hearing Yan Shuangshuang’s words, Ying Lu took a long, slow puff of her cigarette at the time, blew a beautiful smoke ring, and half-closed her eyes: “Who says an Omega can’t play an Alpha? Cross-casting is what makes it interesting. Regardless of praise or criticism, getting the audience into the theater is a success.”

Yan Shuangshuang said with a wry smile: “My public appeal will probably only bring criticism.”

Ying Lu glanced at her: “Who said we need your public appeal? My name, Ying Lu, is a loud-enough brand. Just film with peace of mind. Act the way you’re supposed to, and don’t worry about anything else.”

Ying Lu had a resolute personality. This kind of attitude made Yan Shuangshuang feel a long-lost sense of security.

The entertainment industry was chaotic, with blatant calculations of interest and natural selection—a true, real-life version of Darwinism. Yan Shuangshuang had already suffered a loss and taken a huge fall. Logically, staying away from it was the right path.

But late at night, Yan Shuangshuang tossed and turned, realizing with a start that at some point, her life had become centered only on Gu Xin.

She treated Gu Xin as the sole focus of her life, considering Gu Xin’s affairs as her own, taking on Gu Xin’s emotions. She was exhausted but could never satisfy Gu Xin, only receiving impatient reprimands.

Over these years, the only thing Yan Shuangshuang could truly call her own will was the path of acting.

It was only when acting that she would forget Gu Xin, forget she was a pathetic figure in a relationship. But once she was out of character, she would be submerged by a deeper sense of guilt, thinking how could she treat her partner that way.

If Gu Xin hadn’t gone too far, perhaps Yan Shuangshuang would never have woken up.

Whether picking up acting again was because she genuinely loved it or because she wanted to prove something, Yan Shuangshuang herself couldn’t say for sure.

But Yan Shuangshuang didn’t dislike this busy life.

This morning, Yan Shuangshuang woke up and smelled a heavy dampness in the air. She glanced at the barely lit sky and felt the wind blowing strongly. She got up to wake He Xin.

“He Xin, wake up. It looks like it’s going to rain outside. Do you need to bring your clothes in?”

He Xin groggily opened her phone, checked the weather forecast, and saw a less than ten percent chance of rain. She pulled the blanket over her head and said, “I don’t want to bring them in. The weather report says no rain. I’ll sleep a bit more.”

After that, no matter how Yan Shuangshuang called her, He Xin wouldn’t wake up. With no other option, Yan Shuangshuang had to quickly change her shoes and go up to the roof to retrieve the clothes herself.

Just as she was halfway through, a torrential rain suddenly poured down. Yan Shuangshuang only managed to save one pair of her own pants and two sets of He Xin’s clothes. The rest she could only watch helplessly as they reverted to the ninety percent water content they had after being in yesterday’s washing machine.

Just then, Ying Lu, battling the wind and holding an almost useless umbrella, hurried from another house into the yard. Seeing Yan Shuangshuang hiding under the awning, she yelled: “Damn it! Which idiot didn’t put away the generator yesterday? It’s soaking in the water pit now, totaled! We can’t do anything in this heavy rain! Tell He Xin, day off!”

After giving the notice, Ying Lu rushed off again, not even caring that her lower body was completely soaked.

Yan Shuangshuang picked up her phone and saw that the signal was intermittent, and the network was outright malfunctioning. No wonder Ying Lu had personally delivered the message through the rain.

Looking at the gloomy sky, Yan Shuangshuang felt that this rain had come on too suddenly and heavily, and likely wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

Why did it have to be today? She had an advanced oral language lesson scheduled with the town’s master today. This delay meant it would have to be pushed back again.

Yan Shuangshuang stayed under the awning for a while, watching the curtain of rain falling like a waterfall, then went downstairs.

Entering the room, she saw He Xin sitting on the bed with a blank expression. The moment He Xin saw Yan Shuangshuang, she said, “I think I just heard we have a day off?”

“You heard correctly.” Yan Shuangshuang casually tossed the clothes aside. “The rain is too heavy, so we have a day off. But there’s no signal right now, and we can’t get online.”

He Xin quickly took out her phone and checked. The circle spun endlessly, no messages appeared, and finally, it reported “No Network Connection.”

She painfully slammed her head onto the bed, shouting: “Oh, heavens!”

A day off with no internet was worse than no day off at all!

Still immersed in the sorrow of a holiday without internet, a strange shout suddenly came from outside: “Is anyone there?! A car is stuck in the mud over there! Those who can help, hurry up and save the people!”