After Becoming the Live-in Scummy Alpha, I Pamper Her with Real Strength - Chapter 6

He Song stood with arms crossed, her 178 cm frame towering half a head above Fang Qi, an Omega. The sheer presence she exuded made him instinctively take a step back.

His gaze drifted toward her stunningly beautiful face, momentarily dazed. Jiang Weiran really did have a gorgeous face. Word was she was a top-tier Alpha. A few colleagues who’d been intimately close with her said her pheromones were so seductive they could make your knees go weak.

Unconsciously, Fang Qi’s eyes flicked to the back of He Song’s neck—he wondered what her scent was like.

Wait, why was he spacing out in the middle of a confrontation?

Snap. He Song snapped her fingers impatiently. “Hoping I’d quit the industry so you lot can gobble up the resources I leave behind? I’m confused—do you even have a brain? You stole so many of my endorsement deals and still have the nerve to jump around in front of me like this?”

“Who gave you that courage? Liu Fande? That man can’t even protect himself.”

Fang Qi’s momentum was instantly deflated. The mention of “resources” hit a nerve. He clenched his jaw, forcing back guilt, and hissed with a defiant glare, “Those were mine to begin with. Who stole from who?”

He Song shrugged. “Check the contracts if you’re that sure. Everything’s spelled out. I’ve already fired Liu Fande—I’m not interested in digging up old grievances. As long as you steer clear of me and keep your mouth shut, we can stay out of each other’s way.”

The entertainment industry was a cesspool; resource grabs between artists from the same agency were common, and dirty tricks even more so. He Song had seen it all. The only way to shut people up was to fight back head-on—otherwise, they’d think she was soft.

Fang Qi glared at her, eyes practically spitting fire. His lips twitched, but in the end, he said nothing.

Ding. The elevator arrived.

He Song stepped in first, then turned back to face him. “Oh, one more thing. I’ve got a new agent starting today—Qi Ming. Heard of him?”

As the elevator doors slid shut, they reflected Fang Qi’s expression—twisted by a jealousy so fierce it contorted his features.

Of course he knew Qi Ming. The most sought-after agent in the industry, known for his connections and clout with A-list directors and screenwriters. Huanyao Entertainment had spent a fortune to poach him.

Unlike Liu Fande, who only claimed to be elite, Qi Ming had a track record—his clients were film emperors, empresses, and megastars. Why should a talentless pretty face like Jiang Weiran deserve such top-tier treatment?

Expression dark, Fang Qi stared at the climbing floor numbers, then pulled out his phone. “Liu, about that exposé you mentioned—I’m in.”

________________________________________

He Song stepped into the office and saw a long-haired man lounging on the sofa. He was stylish, attractive, and a single long tassel earring shimmered at his ear.

Hearing the door, the man turned and looked at her. His features were refined and warm, exuding an easy charisma. He stood and held out his hand. “Miss He Song, right? I’m your new agent—Qi Ming.”

He Song smiled politely and shook his hand.

“I look forward to working with you, Mr. Qi.”

“No need to be so formal, Miss He. In a few days, I’ll send a document to your email—it outlines my proposed plan for your future career. Feel free to look it over at your convenience.”

“Thank you so much. About the script from yesterday…”

Qi Ming handed her the script on the desk. “The audition is this afternoon. Personally, I’m leaning toward the role of Wen Xiao. The female lead in the original novel was… divisive. Some readers found her too ruthless, others admired her boldness and intensity.”

He Song understood his concern. “But I still want to audition for the lead.”

Fenghua Chronicle was a xianxia (immortal fantasy) drama with a female protagonist. The story revolved around growth and revenge. The heroine was born into the prestigious Shangxie sect, destined for greatness. But one tragedy changed everything—her entire clan was slaughtered while she was away.

She began cultivating fiercely and set out on a path of revenge, destroying anyone who stood in her way. Cold and cruel, not even the gentle male lead who appeared later could melt her heart. In the end, after exacting revenge, she fell into darkness and turned demonic.

Readers had criticized the ending repeatedly—after avenging her family, shouldn’t she have found peace and a happy ending?

But the author explained: her bloodlust was too heavy. She couldn’t overcome the demons in her heart. Her end was inevitable.

A protagonist darker than the villain—this role demanded incredible range. Without solid acting chops, it was bound to flop. But if He Song could pull it off, it would change public perception of her completely.

Nothing carried more weight in the industry than a well-received performance.

Wen Xiao, the second female lead Qi Ming preferred, was the complete opposite—gentle, sweet, generous. She helped the cold and lonely heroine tremendously early on, healing her wounds, offering elixirs.

Readers called her “the little sun.”

Unfortunately, Wen Xiao was later hunted by the heroine’s enemies and died in Luoxia Valley.

A tearjerking role with guaranteed audience sympathy—as long as the actress didn’t ruin the character, it was a fan favorite.

On paper, the second lead was a safer and better fit for He Song.

But the moment she read the script, she was drawn to the lead. Inexplicably, Mo Qingran’s cold, unwavering figure appeared in her mind—so similar to Lu Li, the heroine. Both were steadfast in their pursuit of revenge, charging forward no matter how exhausted or wounded.

To get into character, He Song had spent several late nights finishing the original novel. The author’s prose was experienced, action scenes smooth and thrilling, and the emotional arcs deeply resonant.

Lu Li was the role she was determined to win.

Seeing her resolve, Qi Ming didn’t try to dissuade her. “Director Yan is known for being exacting. If the audition doesn’t work out, don’t be discouraged. I’ve got a few other quality projects lined up.”

He Song nodded, her impression of her new agent rising rapidly.

________________________________________

Meanwhile, Yan Zhao was slouched in a chair at the Huanyao Entertainment soundstage, yawning with boredom. Today was the audition for Lu Li, the lead. A thick pile of resumes lay stacked by his elbow. After a whole morning of auditions, his head was spinning.

Screenwriter Wu Qing, sitting at his right, pushed up his glasses. “Anyone promising?”

“Hm… not really. That Yu Dongdong girl did okay, but her aura’s too soft. She doesn’t have the kind of edge someone who’s walked through a sea of corpses should have.”

“She might be okay early on, but I’m worried she’ll collapse later.”

Wu Qing sighed. “Can’t we just put some heavy makeup on her to toughen her up? Dark eyeliner, smoky shadow—those make even sweet girls look menacing.”

Yan Zhao waved him off vigorously. Don’t mess things up.

Wu Qing muttered internally: You’re pickier than someone picking a wife.

Yan rubbed his temples and motioned for the assistant to bring in the next candidate.

A tall, elegant woman entered. Her beauty was so striking that even after seeing countless gorgeous women all morning, both Yan Zhao and Wu Qing couldn’t help but pause in admiration.

But… her vibe was way off.

Yan skimmed her resume and mentally dismissed her. He Song? Doesn’t ring a bell. He glanced at her work history—nothing. No acting experience at all, and she dared audition for his project?

What a joke.

He Song entered, gave a polite bow, and said, “I’ll be performing Scene 13—Luoxia Valley.”

Yan froze, his expression growing complicated. He lowered his hand and looked serious. “That scene barely has any lines for the lead. You sure you want to do that one?”

He Song smiled gently. “I’m sure.”

This scene was when Wen Xiao was ambushed and killed; Lu Li arrived too late.

The bamboo forest was quiet save for the rustling of leaves. Lu Li rushed in only to find corpses strewn across the ground and the heavy stench of bl00d.

The one who had always been smiling, sweet, always by her side—now lay motionless on the ground, lifeless.

It was a despair beyond words. Her only family, her hard-earned warmth, gone again through her fingers.

Lu Li’s sobbing scream echoed with helpless fury and grief, the anger and hatred in her chest consuming her whole.

He Song dropped to her knees, clutching at empty air where Wen Xiao would be. Her eyes turned bloodshot. Her expressions shifted naturally, her emotion crescendoing, her aura thick with heartbreak and rage.

With tears streaming down her face and hatred burning in her eyes, she spat:

“Let corpses fill the streets, let bl00d flood the city—I will avenge her!”

Silence.

The set fell into stunned stillness. Her line, like a cry from the depths of despair, echoed in the rafters long after it ended. The raw, fierce beauty of her presence left everyone speechless.

Yan Zhao met her gaze—eyes filled with hatred and grief—and felt a chill shoot down his spine.

For a moment, it felt like Lu Li had stepped off the page and into the room.

It was textbook acting—immersive and powerful. The room erupted into spontaneous applause.

He Song wiped her tears and collected herself, stepping calmly out of character. “Thank you.”

Wu Qing was speechless with emotion. He knew then and there—the role of Lu Li was hers.

Yan Zhao nodded approvingly. “Why’d you pick that scene?”

“Because it’s hard,” He Song replied simply. “It has the most complex emotional and psychological shifts in the entire script.”

Though the original novel didn’t spell it out, He Song believed Wen Xiao’s death marked Lu Li’s breaking point—the moment her personality collapsed. The transition from distant and aloof to cold and cruel had to be clearly conveyed. Without rich layers and precision, the performance would fall flat.

Yan was impressed. “That kind of sensitivity to dramatic beats isn’t something you get without years of experience.”

“I’ve always loved acting,” He Song said. “Especially analyzing characters’ inner worlds. I guess I’ve picked up a few things.”

Yan smiled. “Report to the set next week. Looking forward to working with you.”

That fast? He Song blinked. “Thank you, Director!”

After she left, Wu Qing elbowed Yan. “You agreed too fast. I thought you’d at least make her do another scene with more dialogue. What if her line delivery isn’t solid? We record live, remember?”

Yan replied, “You’re good at writing scripts, but casting’s not your strength. Her delivery in that one line? Clear diction, emotional intensity, no breaks or breathiness—she nailed it. I think she got it.”

Wu Qing: “Fine, fine. You win.”

Just then, a nearby assistant muttered, “Hey, wasn’t that Jiang Weiran?”

“Jiang who?” Yan frowned.

The assistant scratched his head, puzzled. “That actress who flops in every role. Bad acting, big attitude, always flirting on set.”

Yan looked down at the resume. “It says her name is He Song. You must’ve mistaken her. She doesn’t seem like that type. She’s serious, well-prepared—definitely did her homework.”

“Must’ve been my mistake. She does look a lot like her, though…”

________________________________________

Having secured the role she wanted, He Song stretched lazily outside the company building.

She was ready to begin her new life—as He Song.

Good news begged to be shared. She flipped through her phone, deciding to tell Mo Qingran about her successful audition. It couldn’t hurt to build rapport with the female lead.

Honestly, Mo Qingran was the only person in this world she felt like sharing joy with.

He Song: Guess what happened at my audition today?

About a minute later, Mo Qingran replied: If you’re asking, you obviously got it.

He Song pouted and typed quickly: That’s no fun. But seriously, I’m thrilled. I really wanted this role.

He Song: I love the character so much—I want to do her justice.

Mo Qingran: I believe in you.

He Song touched her nose, her cheeks tinged pink. She couldn’t help but smile ear to ear.

That feeling of being believed in… was amazing. But wow—Mo Qingran was seriously flirty when she wanted to be.

________________________________________

Author’s Note:

He Song: My wife is too cute. I’m out of HP. 💘