After Becoming the Live-in Scummy Alpha, I Pamper Her with Real Strength - Chapter 10
The next day, the crew resumed filming as usual, but an unexpected issue arose that afternoon.
“We’ve already started shooting—where’s Yu Dongdong?”
A stagehand shouted through a loudspeaker, but no one on set, not even Yu Dongdong’s assistant, Mei, knew where she was.
Everyone was stunned and began searching the entire set.
Half an hour passed. Still no sign of her.
Mei was frantic. “She was already in costume. Said she needed to grab something from the car, but now the car’s empty too!”
He Song asked, “Have you tried calling her?”
“She’s not answering.”
He Song glanced discreetly at Director Yan Zhao. His face was dark with storm clouds—trouble was brewing.
“Director, maybe something urgent came up?” someone tried to smooth things over.
Yu Dongdong had shown a serious attitude during filming so far. After working with her for several days, many on the crew believed she wasn’t the type to disappear on a whim and leave everyone hanging.
“I can understand an emergency,” Yan Zhao said, voice tense, “but couldn’t she at least send a message? It’s not too much to expect a heads-up.”
People began whispering among themselves.
“She’s barely filmed anything and already pulling this kind of diva act?”
“Director Yan doesn’t tolerate this stuff. If someone acts like they’re above him, he’ll definitely snap.”
“Didn’t He Yan get reamed for adding a scene without permission? He’s a Best Actor winner, and even he got no special treatment.”
“Cold-blooded.”
“Dictatorial.”
He Song: …
Are you all seriously gossiping in front of the director?
“How about we film my scenes first?” He Song stepped up. “Let’s move the afternoon shoot to now. I’ve already memorized all the lines. That way I’ll be done early—can use the time to move houses.”
Yan Zhao scratched his head, flipped through the script, and gave her a rare smile. “Then I’ll trouble you to save the day.”
“Go get changed. We’ll prep the set and props.”
Ever since filming began, Yan Zhao had taken a liking to He Song.
Who doesn’t like a skilled actor who causes no drama?
Even with his famously high standards, he was often impressed by her nuanced performances. She could subtly reflect emotional shifts, making each scene layered and dynamic.
The Lu Li who had wandered the martial world for five years had long shed her initial innocence and warmth, becoming cold and guarded, her face weathered by hardship. But upon reaching Penglai Island and meeting the radiant Wen Xiao, glimmers of hope and warmth gradually returned.
He Song portrayed this transformation seamlessly—just the right touch of stoicism, just the right flicker of yearning in her eyes.
Yan Zhao had only seen such mastery in veteran actors with decades of experience. And yet He Song was only in her twenties—how?
Skeptical, he went to watch her early work—back when she was still known as Jiang Weiran. Not ten minutes into a single episode, he recoiled.
Painful to watch.
Is this even the same person? he asked himself for the hundredth time since learning He Song was the infamous scandal-ridden Jiang Weiran.
Later, he quietly pulled her aside and asked, “Did you take some kind of crash course in acting or something?”
“No, Director Yan. I just read a lot and study performances carefully,” He Song replied, carefully omitting that she’d acted in dozens of dramas and films in her previous life.
Yan Zhao muttered, “I’m really curious—what kind of mentor can turn a withered sprout into a blooming flower like you?”
—
As He Song headed to the dressing room, Lili followed beside her.
“He, why did you volunteer to cover for Yu Dongdong? Her assistant treated you like crap.”
Lili cast a glare at Mei, who was still frantically making calls. Mei met her gaze and awkwardly looked away, swallowing her thanks and pretending to be busy.
He Song had noticed too.
“This kind of thing is bound to happen on set. Should I hold a grudge every time?” she said. “Besides, I’m moving soon—getting these scenes done now gives me more time later.”
“Wait, you’re moving?” Lili blinked in surprise. “So suddenly?”
“Decided last night,” He Song replied. “Didn’t get a chance to tell you.”
“Where to?”
He Song cleared her throat, evasive. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Lili narrowed her eyes. “He, are you blushing? Don’t tell me…”
“Blushing? No way. It’s just hot out,” He Song mumbled, face burning. Ugh, what’s wrong with you? It’s just cohabitation! Quit getting flustered!
“Oh, right. Can you grab my power bank from the car? My phone’s dead.”
Finally getting rid of the nosy Lili, He Song rushed into the dressing room, face covered in embarrassment.
Since Lili was her personal assistant, hiding her move to Mo Qingran’s place would be impossible. But for some reason, she still felt awkward bringing it up—Lili would tease her relentlessly.
The “dressing room” was actually a makeshift structure with individual changing stalls and racks of costumes lining the outer walls.
More like a storage room, really—crammed with clutter in every corner.
At the moment, it was eerily quiet. Most staff and actors were outside, leaving the space empty.
He Song reached for her costume—still the same black fighting outfit the lead had worn since episode two. She’d been wearing it for weeks now, and it was starting to get old.
Meanwhile, Wen Xiao, the second female lead, had changed costumes at least five times. Each one elegant and elaborate, perfectly befitting a senior disciple of Penglai Island.
Even the minor characters got variety.
She’d complained to the costume team before, but the answer was always: “Director’s orders.”
Yan Zhao wanted the audience to instantly associate Lu Li with her iconic look.
He Song had no choice but to accept it.
Just as her fingers brushed the fabric, a faint scent hit her nose—gardenias?
She scanned the room. No flowers anywhere. The scent felt oddly… intimate.
Her eyes landed on one of the private changing stalls.
She crept toward the source of the scent. Just as she stopped at the door, she heard faint panting and muffled whimpers.
He Song hesitated, then knocked. “Is everything alright in there?”
The breathing stopped. Silence fell. But the gardenia fragrance thickened, weaving around He Song, clinging to her skin like velvet.
She pinched her nose and stepped back—her body already starting to heat up.
Oh no… someone’s going into heat.
Her voice trembled as she asked, “Are you having a heat episode? Should I call an ambulance?”
“No! Please don’t!” The woman’s voice was anxious and sticky with desperation. “I feel awful… really awful…”
It was Yu Dongdong.
Wait—Yu Dongdong was an Omega?
But her casting profile clearly said Beta.
He Song was too stunned to think. She turned to leave. One Alpha, one Omega in heat, alone in a dressing room? No good could come of that.
“I-I forgot my suppressant,” Yu Dongdong called weakly. “Can you help me?”
He Song’s hand was already on the door handle, ready to bolt, but her conscience kicked in.
“I’ve got some in the car,” she said, texting Lili as she spoke. “I’ll have my assistant bring it over.”
“Thank you… please don’t tell anyone in the crew… I—”
Crash!
The sound of shattering glass came from inside, followed by a cry of pain.
“What happened?” He Song’s heart leapt. Did she fall?
Inside, Yu Dongdong had slipped, landing hard on her knees. A shattered water bottle scattered shards everywhere, some piercing deep into her legs.
The shock jolted her out of the heat-induced daze. Panic surged through her as pain wracked her body.
She began to cry. “There’s glass in my legs. I’m bleeding—please, help me.”
Click.
The door unlocked.
He Song stepped in and was horrified by the sight—Yu Dongdong half-collapsed against the doorframe, bl00d streaming down her shin from several deep cuts.
She quickly dialed 120.
“Am I going to be crippled?” Yu Dongdong sobbed, eyes pleading.
“The ambulance is on its way,” He Song reassured her. “I’ll tell the others—”
“No!” Yu Dongdong’s eyes burned with panic. “Not until I’ve taken the suppressant. No one can know I’m an Omega.”
“You’re bleeding like this and you’re still worried about that?” He Song snapped.
“It hurts, but being exposed as an Omega would hurt more.”
Still, she refused to let He Song leave.
He Song sighed, crouched down, and began clearing away the glass. “I don’t have a choice. I’m not being a creep, okay?”
Yu Dongdong blinked in confusion—until she realized He Song was lifting her.
Carrying her effortlessly, He Song’s Alpha strength was on full display as she placed her gently on the sofa outside.
Yu Dongdong’s flushed cheeks were still warm from her heat, but she looked up at He Song’s beautiful face and felt… safe.
Wait. Isn’t Jiang Weiran an Alpha…?
Just as He Song was about to pull back, the door to the room swung open.
She turned around, thinking it was Lili—
—and met the cold, piercing eyes of Mo Qingran.
…Huh?! Why is she here?!
________________________________________
Author’s Note:
Author: Can you honestly say you don’t have feelings for Yu Dongdong?
He Song: I swear, I don’t!
Author: Don’t explain to me. Think about how you’re going to explain this to your wife. 😏