Thank You for the Invitation, I Successfully Held Hands with the Best Actress - Chapter 10

The next day, Ning Yu woke from a chaotic dream, her head heavy with the inability to recall what she’d dreamed, only feeling her body grow increasingly sluggish.

By the bedside, several messages from the production team had already piled up, the topmost one detailing the privileges tied to her identity card.

“Maid: With absolute loyalty, provide unlimited care to your assigned partner. When your partner makes a request beginning with ‘Please…’, you must unconditionally fulfill it.”

Ning Yu: “……”Though she knew the maid role didn’t grant much power, this was practically a one-sided tyrannical clause.” Compared to Ming Jue’s “Prince” card—which allowed him ten-minute private chats with his crush anytime—the disparity was glaring.

She’d thought that with a new soul inside her, her luck might improve. Yet this “Maid” card was even worse than the original host’s “Tutor” role in the novel.

Ning Yu massaged her temples and resolutely deleted the message. Such “privileges” were best kept secret.

With one hour left before the day’s dating mission at 10 a.m., many guests were already stirring. They gathered with tacit understanding on the balcony, taking turns heading to the small hut containing the envelopes.

The mailbox hut had stopped accepting letters at 9 p.m. the previous night. Each guest’s key could only open their own mailbox, and the contents of the letters weren’t made public—meaning even the live audience couldn’t guess who’d written to whom.

The guests wore varied expressions, eyeing each other as if calculating something. A faint battlefield of love atmosphere had already begun to permeate the air.

Among them, Ning Yu was the least pressured.

She strolled leisurely across the wooden bridge in her low-heeled sandals. The hut wasn’t large—upon pushing open the door, the first sight was two rows of nameplates: omegas on the top, alphas on the bottom. Peering through the narrow slot revealed nothing.

A camera in the southeast corner dutifully recorded every moment.

Place your bets—how many letters did our scumbag alpha fighter jet receive?

LMAO, are you joking? I’d say zero.

Look at Ning Yu’s face—she probably knows it too.

During her intro yesterday, everyone looked deep in thought. Can’t blame them—her past romantic scandals are too notorious.

Ning Yu clearly realized this as well, so she kept her expectations low as she opened the mailbox.

And then she froze.

Frowning, she pulled out not one letter—but a stack of them.

Ning Yu: “Huh?!”

Audience: “Huh?!”Disbelief, confusion, and the collective shock of subway grandpa squinting at his phone washed over everyone.”

WTF? How did Ning Yu get so many letters? Have omegas’ standards really dropped this low?

As someone who missed yesterday’s stream… what exactly did she do last night?

Uh… nothing? Did they all get cursed or something? What trick did Ning Yu pull?

Stay calm—I need to run a lap around the field first before I process this.

Aside from these relatively normal comments, some viewers were already going a bit overboard.

“Don’t go looking for love in the trash! With so many high-quality alphas out there, why pick this scumbag? Are you asking to get cheated on?”

“What kind of crappy show is this? It’s making me so mad. Sure, Ning Yu is good-looking, can cook, has a sharp tongue, and laughs carefreely—but why is everyone writing her letters?”

“Hey, are you a fan or a hater?”

Ning Yu’s heart pounded as she shakily pulled out all the envelopes and counted them.

One, two, three… Five?!

“LOL, is it really five? Did I miscount?”

“Aren’t there only four omegas among the guests?! Who wrote the extra one?”

“Who could it be? Must’ve dropped it in the wrong mailbox.”

“Maybe it’s a privilege from the identity card—allowing them to write an extra letter and send it to two people?”

“But they didn’t even know the purpose of the identity cards last night.”

“Hahaha, isn’t the answer obvious? Who else could it be?”

“Ning Yu herself, the scumbag alpha?”

“Definitely her. She probably didn’t want to look bad if no one wrote to her, so she sent herself a letter. The alpha and omega envelopes look the same anyway.”

“Yeah, the letters are anonymous, and the contents aren’t revealed. Even if she wrote to herself, we’d never know.”

The comments unanimously concluded that the fifth letter was Ning Yu’s own doing—but the so-called “scumbag alpha” wasn’t laughing.

In her mind, the system cheerfully played Good Luck Comes in celebration.

System: “Host, your character portrayal is absolutely flawless! I thought getting one or two omegas to favor you would be tough, but wow—you swept them all!”

“Wahhh, 414 is finally thriving! With such a skilled host, the scumbag alpha points just keep rising nonstop! Lady Ning, we can start a harem now!”

Ning Yu’s lips twitched. The system’s tone was starting to sound like a sycophantic eunuch whispering sweet nothings to the emperor.

A harem? In her dreams.

She glanced at the red light of the corner camera, then silently turned her back to open the letters one by one.

Viewers: “…Even if you don’t turn around, we still can’t see anything!”

The first letter had neat, delicate handwriting: “I thought the pork rib soup you made was really delicious. Cooking must’ve been hard work.” It ended with a big smiley face and a doodle of a bowl of soup.

The distinctive doodles made it clear—this was from Wen Mianmian.

But wasn’t she supposed to write to Ming Jue? Why did she suddenly send one to Ning Yu?

Recalling the slightly awkward atmosphere between Wen Mianmian and Ming Jue this morning, had something unexpected happened during last night’s “tutoring session”?

Puzzled, Ning Yu moved on to the next letter.

“About that bag of yours, Ning-jie—sorry, I laughed way too hard. You’re not at all like the rumors say.” This had to be from Zhu Wen.

“If you’re hurt, don’t hide it under a bucket hat. It doesn’t look bad at all.”

Looking at the bold, sharp strokes of the handwriting, Ning Yu unconsciously touched her forehead, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

System: “It seems the host still favors Actress Mu. The main wife is indeed different, but the other concubines aren’t impossible to pursue either.”

Ning Yu: “Stop talking nonsense! What main wife and concubines? Do you think this is an imperial selection?”

The system muttered: “What’s the difference? As a scumbag alpha, spreading your affection equally is your duty. One isn’t enough—being devoted doesn’t suit your status.”

Ning Yu: “One isn’t enough? Do you want the audience’s spit to drown me?”

System: “If drowning in spit earns points, then that’s the best method!”

Ning Yu: “…”

The next two letters were rather peculiar.

One was covered in geometric patterns and ruler markings, with no text or signature.

The other…

“I know your target is Mu Qiuyue. I can help you.” It was signed with a time and place: tonight at 10 PM in the garden pavilion.

Rubbing her head, Ning Yu stuffed all the letters into the nearby shredder, full of doubts.

She had walked in light-footed just ten minutes ago, but now she left weighed down with concerns. This dating show wasn’t as simple as she thought?

However, the letters leaned more toward friendship—none showed any romantic hints toward her. Ning Yu sighed in relief, unaware that the audience had already crowned her the “epic-level scumbag alpha.”

After the letter-opening session, the guests sat in silence at the long table, the atmosphere heavy with gloom.

There wasn’t much to explain on the alpha side—all the omegas had written to Ning Yu.

As for the omegas, Mu Qiuyue received two letters, Wen Mianmian got one, while Zhu Wen and Gao Mi received none.

Despite trying to hide her disappointment, Gao Mi couldn’t hold back her tears, quickly wiping them away as they slid down her cheeks.

Wen Mianmian comforted her softly beside her.

Gao Mi: “I know… everyone has their own choices. I was prepared, but… I didn’t expect it to feel so… humiliating…”

Her voice grew quieter, but every word still reached the audience clearly.

Don’t cry, pretty sister! No letters doesn’t mean you’re not amazing!

Out of everyone, I like Mimi the most, but maybe her cheerful personality isn’t the alpha’s type.

Who doesn’t love the icy beauty? Mu Qiuyue’s visuals are just too good.

Pfft, it’s just celebrity halo effect. Regular folks can’t compare to some people’s “nobility.”

Comfort her without putting others down. Different types, no need to compare.

It’s only the first day. Once they see past someone’s cold act, things will change.

Everyone knows Mu Qiuyue is frigid. Zero scandals sound nice, but why join a dating show? What’s she thinking?

You’re just jealous of her popularity. Honestly, what about her isn’t worth liking?

Seeing the arguments heat up, the production team quickly activated a 30-minute mute mode—because soon, the first-day dating mission would be announced.

Four different locations were written on the wall. The omegas would first make anonymous selections, followed by the alphas. Those who chose the same location would automatically become today’s CP pairing for the date.

Ning Yu stared at the photo in her hand and couldn’t help but inwardly wail.

How could her luck keep getting worse by the day?!

In the photo was a sunny beachside greenway, with a wooden mobile stall attached to a tricycle. The words “Dessert Shop” were painted asymmetrically in red, the strokes uneven.

Today’s mission: Operate the dessert stall on the greenway with your CP partner. Get to know each other through labor, strengthen your bond through cooperation and mutual support, and together, become the most unique sight on the greenway.

When asked why a dating show would assign such a business-oriented task, the host enthusiastically explained: Based on modern marriage statistics, the biggest strain on relationships often comes from trivial daily matters.

These small matters directly reflect differing values and are the best indicators of whether a CP can truly work out. Managing a shared task would expose these potential conflicts early.

Ning Yu understood the show’s intentions, but out of the four tasks, the dessert stall was the absolute worst choice.

She distinctly remembered—in the original story, a heavy rain poured down this afternoon. The pair who chose the dessert stall ended up drenched, returning like drowned rats, let alone having any chance to bond.

It was the only mobile stall among the four tasks, its flimsy canopy unable to withstand the wind, leaving the rain to lash straight into their faces.

But as the last alpha to choose, the only option left for Ning Yu was this dessert stall.

She couldn’t help but glance to her right at Xu Yi, who wore a gloomy expression.

In the original story, Xu Yi and Zhu Wen were the ones who picked the dessert stall. Xu Yi fell ill that very night after getting soaked, running a high fever that landed him in the hospital for two days on an IV drip.

But now… something felt different.

Ming Jue, sitting across from her, glared fiercely, his brows furrowed in irritation.

Clearly, he was deeply dissatisfied with being paired with Gao Mi.

But this wasn’t Ning Yu’s fault either! She had been left with the last remaining option.

“Miss Ning, looking left and right—why is it that you never glance my way?” Mu Qiuyan, seated beside her, rested her chin on her hand and regarded Ning Yu with amusement. She waved the same photo in her hand. “I’m your CP partner for today.”

Ning Yu: “Then I’ll have to trouble Actress Mu for your guidance today!”

Mu Qiuyan: “Guidance is unnecessary. I just hope Miss Ning can still enjoy herself today.” Her tone carried an unconscious hint of pity.

Ning Yu sensed something off in Mu Qiuyan’s words, but under Ming Jue’s murderous glare, her scalp prickled. She didn’t dwell on it, only replying flatly, “Enjoyment is probably out of the question.”

Hehehe, I know exactly where that beach greenway is. Girls, who’s coming with me?

It’s on Sangu Island. The only passenger ferry leaves at 8 AM—otherwise, you’ll have to take a speedboat. Anyone want to split the rental?

Tch, I just got back from Sangu Island yesterday. Had I known Mu Qiuyan was going, I would’ve stayed overnight.

To the sisters who can go—please curse out Ning Yu for me. Just ranting online isn’t satisfying enough. Buy a bowl of dessert, curse for a minute—definitely a profitable deal.

“Hahaha, to be honest, not only do I want to go scold them, I also want to learn a thing or two.”

“When the person ahead publishes a book called ‘Professional Ethics of a Scumbag Alpha,’ I’ll definitely buy a copy.”

Ning Yu sneezed coldly on the speedboat and looked up at the sky. The bright, sunny weather gave no indication of the heavy rain forecast for the evening. She called out to the person steering the boat ahead.

“Sister Mu, take it easy! I’m a bit of a coward!”