Forced to Pretend to Be an A and Marry the Best Actress Omega - Chapter 22

What kind of hidden mission is this?

It’s almost midnight, and you pull this stunt? Do you think we omegas are easily scared? Our Yuyu isn’t afraid of this stuff!

 

…Hey, the one above, are you sure this thing is supposed to be scary?

 

It looks like a childhood toy, hahahahaha. You can tell the production team was going for a terrifying skeleton effect, but Xu Mifei made it look hilarious.

 

This thing glows green—since when are skeletons green?

 

LOL, how dare she crawl into the tent? Turn on the camera inside! Where’s the footage? Why is there no movement?

For the privacy and safety of the guests, there are no cameras inside the tents, but the live-streaming camera outside is still on.

Once the audience noticed the commotion here, they quickly flocked to this feed.

The chat was buzzing, and because there was no movement or sound after Xu Mifei entered, the discussions became wild and varied. The comments flew by at lightning speed, skyrocketing to the top of Orange TV’s popularity chart, leaving the second place far behind in a landslide.

After another five or six minutes, the tent was suddenly yanked open.

Xu Mifei appeared in the frame, looking disheveled. The oversized hat that had covered her entire head like a bandit’s mask was now gone, revealing slightly messy long hair. Whatever she had experienced inside, her final steps seemed—

Frantic and hurried.

What is she running from?

 

LOL, who’s scaring whom? What even is this mission?

 

I knew the Peacock wouldn’t succeed! Hahahahaha! We all see through her little scheme—volunteering for this scare mission just to get close to Yuyu, only to be kicked out immediately.

 

Yuyu, well done~

However, the infrared camera couldn’t clearly capture Xu Mifei’s exact expression or state.

Naturally, the audience couldn’t see—

That when Xu Mifei emerged, her face was flushed, and she fled as quickly as possible, her gaze flickering like the shimmering surface of a lake, rippling with waves.

……

“You can really smell my pheromones?”

“G-go find your partner. The mission requires…”

“Partner? Who do you think I should look for?”

“……”

“Xu Mifei, do you realize something’s off? When you came in, I smelled your…”

“I don’t need comfort, I need soothing.”

She didn’t know.

At the break of dawn, Xu Mifei woke up on the simple dormitory bed, feeling an uncomfortable pressure against her back.

Her entire body felt off, a strange sense of dissatisfaction lingering.

Because of what had happened with Jiang Lingyu in the tent last night, she had spent the night plagued by bizarre dreams, replaying Jiang Lingyu’s words to her over and over, only for them to abruptly stop.

Pausing at the sentence “I need soothing,” as if it were the final punctuation.

The living conditions on the island for filming weren’t great. Though this was a single dormitory assigned to her, it was as small as a box. Xu Mifei sat on the bed for a moment to collect herself, then got up and changed all her undergarments.

As soon as she stepped out, she saw Hu Yigui walking in, holding a bottle of lemon rum.

“Team Leader Hu, have you been drinking this early in the morning?” Xu Mifei rubbed her throbbing temples, feeling the weight in her head and neck, slightly swollen—probably still due to poor sleep last night.

“Just for a pick-me-up,” Hu Yigui offered. “Want some?”

“No thanks.” Jiang Lingyu disliked the smell of alcohol on her, though Jiang Lingyu had never said it outright—Xu Mifei could sense it. Only now did she realize Hu Yigui used alcohol as a stimulant. Could it be that Jiang Lingyu had noticed the scent on her from here?

Though Xu Mifei couldn’t detect the alcohol on herself.

The only pheromone scent she was acutely sensitive to was Jiang Lingyu’s bergamot.

Last night in the tent, even the faintest trace of it had shattered her composure, sending her fleeing in panic.

That smooth pudding had been slipped into her mouth, yet Jiang Lingyu hadn’t released her grip on Xu Mifei’s chin.

Only when Jiang Lingyu leaned closer did Xu Mifei finally adjust to the darkness, meeting those overwhelmingly intense eyes.

The omega in the dead of night was nothing like the gentle, hazy silhouette against the tent’s fabric—every inch of her now radiated a dangerous, violated edge.

Xu Mifei was the one restrained. She could have easily pushed Jiang Lingyu away, yet she willingly submitted under her control.

She couldn’t provoke Jiang Lingyu—Xu Mifei knew this well. There was madness in Jiang Lingyu’s bones. If allowed to fester in humiliation, regardless of who triggered it, she would ultimately blame the original host for the tragedy’s origin and retaliate with fury.

Then, her life would be forfeit.

This was the sword hanging over Xu Mifei’s head, keeping her vigilance sharp.

As long as she didn’t harm Jiang Lingyu or remove her scent gland, steering her clear of misery, she might just survive.

So she had to keep appeasing, appeasing, and appeasing.

Only when this year’s agreement period ended could she truly relax.

Here in the darkness, Jiang Lingyu seemed more like her true self.

Commanding and unyielding, untouchable as the moon hanging high, chillingly aloof.

It seemed Jiang Lingyu had mistaken her for someone sneaking into her tent.

But why had she fed her pudding?

“I was just here to complete the show’s task! Nothing else!” Xu Mifei blurted out in a fluster, even licking the lingering sweetness from her lips. “It’s part of the tent assignment—meant to scare you so you’d seek comfort from your partner, then you could… go inside to sleep…”

Tilting her head back, she had no idea if Jiang Lingyu was even listening, her body stiffening further.

“Comfort?”

Jiang Lingyu’s voice finally cut through, drawing closer.

The one who had once kept her distance now actively breached the boundary between them.

Xu Mifei’s panic didn’t seem feigned—the skin beneath Jiang Lingyu’s fingers was heating, her breaths growing shallow. Fear? Was Xu Mifei afraid of her?

“I don’t need comfort,” Jiang Lingyu murmured. “I need soothing.”

Her hand abruptly released Xu Mifei’s chin, brushing the back of her neck—where the unnaturally warm skin seared her fingertips.

In an instant, that familiar crisp, spicy sweetness teased Jiang Lingyu’s senses again.

Only in this small, enclosed space did it become more apparent than usual.

Yet Xu Mifei seemed completely unaware.

“Xu Mifei, something might be wrong with you.” Jiang Lingyu resisted the urge to press down heavily and instead pushed Xu Mifei away forcefully. The pounding heartbeat in her chest seemed to respond to something, thumping so violently it felt like it might leap out.

“Get out.”

…

“I’ll take a sip after all.” Xu Mifei patted her head, feeling that she indeed wasn’t quite right, just as Jiang Lingyu had said. She took the glass from Hu Yigui and downed it in one go.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t bad at all.

What stood out more was the citrusy aroma of lemon, the sour aftertaste sending a shiver down her spine.

Hu Yigui laughed. “Now you’re getting it. I thought you wouldn’t make it to the morning shift after last night’s mission. Since you’re up, come with me to check the props.”

“By the way, how did yesterday’s mission go?”

“Not great.” Xu Mifei’s face grew warm, whether from the alcohol or something else on her mind.

When she saw the strikingly lifelike oversized animal costumes in the prop room, Xu Mifei’s expression immediately turned serious.

It suddenly came back to her.

During today’s game challenge, the guests had encountered a minor performance mishap—wearing these costumes, they lost their balance and accidentally fell into the water.

The seemingly lightweight costumes instantly became soaked with icy water, dragging the guests down. All six nearly drowned, with Jiang Lingyu’s costume taking on the most water. If Xu Wanzhi hadn’t swum desperately to pull her out, the situation could have been far worse.

The incident happened during a live broadcast, shocking all viewers.

Some audience members noticed something off about the props and blame naturally fell on the prop team. The original owner, who had been temporarily added to the team, became the primary suspect and was subsequently torn apart online, with hateful hashtags gaining millions of interactions.

The more people despised the original owner, the more Xu Wanzhi’s selfless rescue of Jiang Lingyu stood out, sending their CP’s popularity soaring. This also marked a turning point in Jiang Lingyu’s attitude toward Xu Wanzhi.

Xu Mifei’s gaze landed on the beautiful white fox costume. She strode over. “Team Leader Hu, we need to retest all of these. Right now.”

Hu Yigui looked surprised. “Didn’t you check the tablet? They finished testing at four.”

“Test them again.” Xu Mifei insisted. “Just the two of us. It’ll help sober us up.”

Hu Yigui: “?” What kind of lousy excuse is that? One sip, and I need to sober up?

Xu Mifei pulled her over and began meticulously parting the thick, fluffy fur of the costume in front of her.

Hu Yigui’s expression gradually darkened.

The prop team had always been meticulous. She suspected the costumes had been swapped.

Yesterday, while setting up the tent, she noticed the missing fluorescent powder. These small disappearances might not be coincidences—someone on the prop team could have been tampering with things long before.

Xu Mifei checked the time. The guests were scheduled to wear the costumes around ten in the morning. She hoped there was still time.

—

At 7:30 a.m., all the guests were rudely awakened.

Sleeping in nature naturally means being awakened by its sounds. Even those who aren’t roused by noise might be woken by discomfort—like Wen Yue and Shen Wansui.

“My dear heavens…” Wen Yue groaned, rubbing her sore back as she sat up, her hair a tangled mess like a bird’s nest. “Is this even a place fit for humans?”

If she was uncomfortable, Shen Wansui—the princess and the pea incarnate—was even worse off. Dazed, she muttered, “Tell me about it. If we keep sleeping like this, we might stop being human soon.”

Even with thick hay bedding, it felt worse than sleeping on the floor. The dry straw seemed to have mutated—each strand had its own unique way of poking into their skin.

“We have to work harder today to earn more points and trade for a proper bed. Otherwise, I’ll just borrow some points from Lingyu-jie,” Wen Yue declared, clenching her fists. “I wonder how Lingyu-jie slept outside. Let’s go check on her.”

Lin Su and He Yanzhen had already gotten up earlier and gone to wash up. Meanwhile, Xu Wanzhi’s sleeping bag was empty.

“Xu Wanzhi really got lucky…” Shen Wansui couldn’t help but whisper into Wen Yue’s ear. “She sneaked off to the RV to sleep before ten.”

The cameras were still rolling at the time, but Xu Wanzhi had slipped away through a blind spot, stuffing her sleeping bag with a long plush doll. Fans watching the livestream thought she was still inside, praising her in the comments for not being the least bit spoiled.

“She has special circumstances. Didn’t you see yesterday? She got injected with a strong suppressant,” Wen Yue patted her hand. “Once the cameras are on and we’re mic’d up, don’t mention this again.”

Shen Wansui pouted. “She was the one who released her pheromones first. If it weren’t for Xiao Xu reacting quickly, I don’t even know if we’d still be filming today.”

And she hated Xu Wanzhi’s pheromone scent!!

Having been temporarily marked by Wen Yue, Shen Wansui was extremely sensitive to other Alphas’ pheromones. Even though she’d been indoors at the time, her body had reacted instantly—her scent gland stung so badly she couldn’t even step outside.

She could only imagine how much worse it must have been for everyone else.

Shen Wansui sighed. “That’s why the production team needs an Alpha like Xiao Xu—someone who can keep things under control.”

Wen Yue wholeheartedly agreed.

As they reached the area near the tent, a wave of warmth immediately dispelled the morning chill.

Turns out, a bonfire had been set up outside the tent to keep the cold at bay.

Just then, Jiang Lingyu unzipped the tent and stepped out.

After greeting her, Shen Wansui peeked inside and saw the soft bedding and a large bag nearby…

Good heavens! There were even self-heating meals and snacks!

She was jealous.

Inside the house, they couldn’t light a fire, and without any other heating equipment, they weren’t exactly freezing—but comfort was another matter.

Jiang Lingyu, whose outdoor sleeping situation had been a point of concern, turned out to be the most comfortable of them all—her complexion rosy, her eyes bright and clear, with no signs of exhaustion. She had clearly slept well.

“Lingyu-jie, you’re living the life…” Wen Yue said enviously, eyeing the tent. “Today, I’m clinging to you no matter what. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

Jiang Lingyu glanced behind them and chuckled. “It’s not as great as you think.”

In the distance, Lin Su called out, announcing that breakfast was ready. The group headed back toward the main lodging.

It was almost eight o’clock. The production team had scheduled the daily broadcast to start at eight and end at twelve. Now was the time for the guests to have breakfast.

Although the cameras weren’t rolling yet, the cameramen were still diligently filming behind-the-scenes footage.

Since waking up meant the show was already recording, their breakfast had to be exchanged with points—and not many at that.

Yi Baoyou couldn’t stomach this kind of food and hadn’t even arrived yet, so the props team staff were the ones distributing the meals to the guests.

The options were steamed buns, congee, and fried dough sticks—nothing more. These were all frozen products that had been steamed and brought over. For now, these were the only supplies the guests could get.

As soon as Jiang Lingyu arrived, she keenly noticed that a few of the staff members who had been around the campsite earlier were missing.

Xu Mifei wasn’t there either.

Lin Su and He Yanzhen brought over a large bun and placed it in Jiang Lingyu’s hand. “Eat something to replenish your energy. This is from Xiao Xu from the props team—she asked me to bring it to you.”

But Xiao Xu herself hadn’t come. Jiang Lingyu glanced around and saw that everyone else had one too—she really was treating everyone equally.

“It seems like she specifically wanted me to give this to you. Even though everyone got one, yours came in a separate little bag,” Lin Su explained, sensing Jiang Lingyu’s thoughts.

Jiang Lingyu turned her face away. “I wasn’t looking for her.”

Xu Wanzhi arrived just then. Naturally, she had rested well last night, and standing next to Jiang Lingyu, the two of them looked like the best-dressed pair in the group.

She refused the steamed bun—how could she eat something so dry without even a drink to go with it? She had already eaten in the car before coming.

Wen Yue took a bite and said, “Mmm, so sweet! After suffering all day yesterday, even a plain bun tastes like a delicacy to me now.”

She happily showed it off to the camera, and Jiang Lingyu spotted the sweet syrup filling inside the bun.

So, it was a sugar bun…

Jiang Lingyu tore open her own bun, revealing the soft, porous texture inside—no sugary filling.

She couldn’t help but smile faintly before taking a bite. Though there was no sugar, the natural sweetness of the wheat reminded her of the old-fashioned steamed buns she used to sneak out to buy as a child.

A taste from memory.

Turns out, it really was quite good.

“You like eating these?” Xu Wanzhi looked at Jiang Lingyu in surprise. Now that Xu Mifei was nowhere to be seen today, Xu Wanzhi was in an excellent mood, her voice gentle as she spoke to Jiang Lingyu. “If you like these, next time I’ll hire a pastry chef to make them specially for you.”

“I don’t like them,” Jiang Lingyu replied. Eating this also brought back memories of childhood hunger—nothing pleasant.

Xu Wanzhi chuckled. “Then why are you humoring the production team like this? It doesn’t matter. I had my assistant bring my RV over last night. If you want something to eat, I can get it for you.”

Jiang Lingyu shook her head and said nothing more, simply taking one bite after another of the soft bun until it was gone.

She just knew—Xu Mifei, who didn’t understand these things, had expressed her care in a clumsy way.

And so, she didn’t want to waste this bun, nor the sincerity behind it.

After breakfast, the production team turned on the live stream. Jin Chiyu was startled by the flood of comments—why was everyone talking about Xu Mifei dressing up as a skeleton last night?

Came across the trending hashtag on my way to work and popped in for a laugh. Is it true that a certain Alpha from the Xu family embarrassed themselves live on stream?

 

One image to destroy all imagination of those “seductive eyes”: Xu Mifei laser eyes.jpg

 

I don’t want to give Xu Mifei the clout either, but she’s just too funny appearing right in front of me—what can I do?

 

Watch out for the lawyer’s letter, LOL

 

Hey friend, I’m waiting for it. Hasn’t Xu Mifei been trying to prove she’s changed lately? I’m just here to see if it’s true.

 

Girl, you’re being way too blatant. Unlike you, I’m just here to see Xu Mifei lose her cool.

Turns out, last night, someone had screenshotted the moment Xu Mifei tiptoed into the tent wearing a fluorescent skeleton outfit and turned it into a meme. With the caption “Here I come, here I come!” added, it amplified the sneaky vibe and zoomed in on her eyes.

Night vision mode naturally makes people’s eyes glow, and with the edit, it did look a bit like laser eyes.

Xu Mifei had always hated being mocked online. In the past, she’d frequently scour the internet to send out lawyer’s letters, practically living on it—earning herself plenty of ridicule.

But people just loved dancing on her nerves, waiting eagerly for the show to start.

The early-morning netizens wanted to know—could Xu Mifei maintain her usual composure on camera after finding out she was being roasted like this? Of course, what they’d love even more was seeing her completely lose it, satisfying their curiosity.

So, the barrage of comments also urged the production team to pan the camera over and show what Xu Mifei was up to.

But the one losing her cool wasn’t Xu Mifei—it was Jin Chiyu at this moment.

She wanted to say, Have you all forgotten that it was you who said you didn’t want Xu Mifei on camera in the first place?!

Besides, Xu Mifei had been busy testing props all morning. Chances were, she had no idea she was trending so hard.

Or maybe, Xu Mifei just didn’t care at all.

Which made the side waiting for a meltdown look like fools.

Though Jin Chiyu really didn’t want to say it, right now, she couldn’t help feeling that these viewers hoping to see Xu Mifei crack were acting like idiots.

Naturally, the camera ignored the audience.

After the initial wave of hype, the comments gradually settled down, shifting to discussions about the guests and today’s mission.

Yi Baoyou arrived right on time, greeted everyone, and returned to the camera’s view.

Once everyone was present, Jin Chiyu picked up the megaphone and announced the task: “Dear guests, congratulations on surviving your first wonderful night. Today’s mission is very simple—it’s called Fairy Tale of Love.”

The props team quickly brought out a spinning wheel with six animal names already written on it: fox, cat, tiger, bear, lion, and ant.

“Deep in the forest today, an animal ball will be held, and all creatures must attend. The roles you’ll play will be determined by spinning the wheel. Please note—”

Jin Chiyu paused, glanced at the time, then looked up again.

“Due to the heat, the props team will first distribute animal pins representing your identities. You’ll only change into full costumes once you reach the key mission point. Remember—each animal has unique traits, so don’t act too out of character during tasks.”

“Your traits are the key to whether you can successfully cross the river and reach the ball. The ball begins at 6 PM, and only the first pair to enter will receive point rewards. Good luck to you all.”

After she finished reading the rules, the guests began drawing their identities. Jiang Lingyu selected the fox, while Xu Wanzhi chose the cat.

Lin Su and He Yanzhen became the lion and ant respectively, with Wen Yue and Shen Wansui assigned as the tiger and bear.

When Jiang Lingyu received her brooch, she also noticed the identity traits printed on the back: White Fox: Born liar, weight 13kg, borrowing power from the mighty

Each person’s expression shifted subtly upon receiving their brooch, and none shared the characteristics of their assigned identities.

Xu Wanzhi pinned the cat brooch on the side closest to Jiang Lingyu and showed it to her without hesitation.

Cat: Puffed-up kitten, weight 6kg, feline family solidarity

Jiang Lingyu didn’t fully understand the meaning of the trait card, but she grasped the keyword about crossing the river—today’s task was clearly not simple.

Weight would definitely be related to river crossing.

Her gaze instinctively swept the surroundings, yet there was still no sign of Xu Mifei.

What’s going on with her? Slacking off on the second day of work? Or… was she frightened by what happened last night?

A flicker of disappointment crossed Jiang Lingyu’s face, but she quickly adjusted her expression before the cameras could catch it.

The fans in the live chat were thrilled, especially when they saw Xu Wanzhi carefully and tenderly fastening the cat brooch—half the screen exploded with screaming “Aaaah!”

So that’s why Yuyu suddenly mentioned loving kittens last night!! They were setting this up all along!

 

CP fans are losing it hehehehe, even the heavens are helping us!!!

 

Too bad we can’t see Xu Mifei’s reaction—I’d love to witness the Peacock’s face right now. Probably writhing in darkness off-camera

 

See? What’s not yours can never be taken, no matter how hard you try. Even destiny isn’t on your side, tsk.

 

This is sugar! Subtle, sneaky sugar! I’m feasting!

“Everyone can set off now,” Jin Chiyu reminded them. After a moment’s thought, He Yanzhen asked, “Which way do we go?”

Jin Chiyu replied, “The detailed map is in Jiang Lingyu’s guidebook. You’ll find everything you need along the way.”

Wen Yue murmured, “See? I told you we should stick close to Sister Lingyu from the start…”

But Jiang Lingyu knew.

Had Xu Mifei not jumped from the flyer the previous day, she wouldn’t have impulsively chosen skydiving and secured this assignment.

Some coincidences were indeed too perfect, yet when they involved Xu Mifei, all strangeness merged seamlessly into naturalness.

Like how she’d coincidentally caught that familiar scent, knowing Xu Mifei had arrived.

How she’d coincidentally squeezed out pudding to feed Xu Mifei.

Xu Mifei had been so unguarded—opening her mouth to swallow the pudding, kneeling on the ground with that expression that suggested she’d never get angry no matter what.

If Jiang Lingyu had been slightly rougher, failing to squeeze out pudding but instead extending a fingertip—would Xu Mifei have similarly stuck out her tongue to suck?

The thought flashed through Jiang Lingyu’s mind for just an instant, and then—

Her pheromones accidentally leaked out, detected by Xu Mifei.

Jiang Lingyu still couldn’t determine whether Xu Mifei had been frightened by her strange behavior yesterday.

She generously shared the guidebook for everyone to study the map together, quietly listening on the sidelines while her mind wandered, reflecting on why she’d acted so outrageously the night before.

Soon, Lin Su and He Yanzhen identified the correct direction and led the group forward.

The map was convoluted, densely packed with twists and turns—no wonder it would take a full day to traverse.

Rather than simply attending a dance, the winding route seemed designed to push them deeper into exploring the island as part of the mission.

Along the way, there were supply crates and scattered tasks. Jiang Lingyu, however, had no shortage of points and thus no interest in participating.

They were ascending the mountain now, the path gradually growing steeper. Yet the trail they followed already bore footprints and was lined with crushed stones.

Everywhere along the main route marked on the map, these gravel paths appeared, almost like a guiding hand.

While Wen Yue was off completing a task, Jiang Lingyu and Lin Su wandered to the edge of the main path to survey their surroundings.

“Who laid out this path? It’s so meticulous,” Lin Su voiced the question lingering in Jiang Lingyu’s mind. A nearby PD following their shoot chimed in, “The props team did it. The terrain here is steep, and it rained not long ago. They said adding this would make it safer.”

Only then did Jiang Lingyu remark, “Team Leader Hu has always been thorough in her work.”

The camerawoman, a young and newly hired Alpha, had become a fan of Xu Mifei after watching her skydive during testing. Under Jiang Lingyu’s gaze, she blushed and murmured, “It was Xiao Xu—she suggested it. She offered a lot of great ideas…”

Even through thick soles, the sharp-edged gravel was impossible to ignore. Jiang Lingyu smiled at the flustered camerawoman, who had accidentally revealed her thoughts, then strode ahead.

The camerawoman exhaled in relief.

Too close—she had nearly spilled everything. How could Xiao Xu be so careful with prop arrangements yet so careless in handling past relationships?

No matter what, Jiang Lingyu was still her wife in name. If she found out, she might be upset—

Unexpectedly, Jiang Lingyu, who had already walked away, turned back and stood before her again, still smiling gently but cutting straight to the point:

“Who’s here?”

The camerawoman’s heart lurched. “No one!” she blurted out.

Just half an hour earlier, she had heard Hu Yigui over the earpiece mention a minor issue with the props, so the team was still rushing to finish. They needed those responsible for intermediate tasks to buy more time.

Everything had been normal—until, two minutes later, an unfamiliar woman’s voice crackled through Hu Yigui’s end.

“A-Fei! Get up here—what are you all doing? Stop her! Don’t let her jump—”

“Miss Yu, we’re testing props. Please stay back.”

After a burst of chaotic static, Hu Yigui cut the comms. But the staff who had heard knew: a woman called “Miss Yu” had suddenly come looking for Xu Mifei.

It didn’t seem like good news, so naturally, Jiang Lingyu couldn’t be allowed to find out.

Jiang Lingyu’s hand lightly covered the camera lens.

“I have something urgent to ask her.” The camerawoman’s ears burned at Jiang Lingyu’s gentle tone. Holding her breath, she watched as Jiang Lingyu pressed a finger to her lips in a silencing gesture before pointing to her earpiece—she only wanted to ask one question through the staff’s comms.

Dazed, the camerawoman realized too late that she had already reopened the channel.

“What are you doing! Team Leader Hu has already shut down—how could you possibly still reach Assistant Manager Xu—”

“…Hello, go ahead.” The call actually connected, accompanied by the sound of splashing water.

The photographer shuddered under Jiang Lingyu’s gaze, dropping the walkie-talkie headset to the ground.

As Jiang Lingyu picked it up, she happened to hear Xu Mifei’s voice coming through the static, calling her name in a low tone that sent shivers down one’s ears.

“The props team needs another half hour. It won’t cause delays. I’ll be returning to my post shortly via the side path.” She paused before continuing, “Don’t let Jiang Lingyu come over for now.”

Jiang Lingyu handed the headset back to the photographer, reminding her to respond.

The photographer stammered, “O-okay.”

Yet the next moment, she saw Jiang Lingyu heading straight toward the side path.