The Salted-Fish Alpha and the Actress Got Their Marriage Certificate - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ye Cike wanted to jump out of the car.

Even rolling a few times in the dirt or lying under the vehicle would be better than her current situation!

If she had known her pheromones could cause such chaos, she never would have agreed to this variety show invitation.

Xi Ling suddenly stopped tending to the rice seedlings, turning instead to untie her bun, letting her soft, long hair cascade down, covering the snowy white nape of her neck.

The space was cramped, and Ye Cike’s nerves were on edge. Even the slightest movement from the person beside her made her heart skip a beat.

As expected, she had disturbed her. Ye Cike sighed, preparing to come clean and be honest.

The rice transplanter kept running, leaving neat rows of seedlings in its wake, progressing far faster than the other groups. It was almost finished.

But Ye Cike stopped the machine far from the cameras. Amid the loud roar of the engine, she carefully considered how to broach the subject.

Unexpectedly, Xi Ling, who had been focused on arranging the seedlings, spoke first.

“Do you really have pheromone disorder syndrome?”

Her voice was calm, soft, and delicate, but Ye Cike heard it clearly.

“Yes,” Ye Cike nodded, admitting, “So sometimes I can’t control my pheromones. At the press conference, and this morning…”

Her tone carried a hint of guilt. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sorry.”

Xi Ling’s slender fingers tucked a strand of hair blown by the breeze behind her ear, smoothing it out, and she glanced at Ye Cike.

Such a tall alpha, now curled up in the cramped space, her long legs slightly bent to give Xi Ling more room.

When apologizing, she lowered her head, looking very obedient.

Xi Ling found her own thoughts amusing and couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Ye Cike looked at her, puzzled.

“Then did you really steal resources from others?” Xi Ling asked lightly, her tone playful.

“No, it’s all stuff I earned myself.” Ye Cike turned her head, her ears slightly red. “I always wake up too late, so I never audition with others.”

Ning Lan had nagged her about it several times, but she still couldn’t change.

“Suppressing newbies?” Xi Ling continued.

Ye Cike’s mouth twitched. “I don’t even know who’s signed with our company.”

She didn’t bother with rumors and gossip as long as they didn’t affect her life.

“Hot-tempered and violent?” Xi Ling tilted her head, her eyes full of teasing amusement.

Ye Cike raised her gaze, saying seriously, “That one’s true. I did hit someone.”

The answer caught Xi Ling off guard. Her eyes flickered, but there wasn’t a trace of fear.

“At a party once, I ran into Meng Gujin’s assistant. He was slipping something into an omega’s drink.” Ye Cike tapped the steering wheel in front of her, her expression annoyed. “My susceptible period was coming up, and I got impulsive and beat him up.”

During their susceptible period, alphas can’t control their emotions—some get depressed, others irritable. Ye Cike was the latter.

For a top-tier alpha, the emotions during a susceptible period are even more extreme. To prevent her from hurting others or herself, her family had prepared a special room for her to ride it out.

Since she was young, her mother had always warned her to find a sturdy, resilient partner to avoid both of them suffering later.

Thinking of her mother’s constant nagging about marriage, Ye Cike rubbed her temples with a headache. “Kind of a pity.”

Xi Ling was curious. “A pity?”

“That assistant was clearly experienced; it wasn’t his first time. He was caught but released soon after. Look, he was still trailing Meng Gujin yesterday.” Ye Cike glanced into the distance, where Meng Gujin was gesturing with a piece of paper, doing who-knows-what.

“Do you know who’s been smearing you?” Xi Ling frowned.

Every few days, she was trending for negative reasons. For a newcomer, even with a great face and acting skills, this kind of scrutiny was unbearable. Anyone else would’ve been shelved by their agency long ago.

Yet Ye Cike’s agency only occasionally issued clarifications, their attitude oddly detached.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Ye Cike replied casually, restarting the machine. After a few rounds, the two quickly finished their task.

The sky was still bright, and a warm breeze brushed through their sleeves. Once they relaxed, a sense of comfort settled in. Xi Ling raised her hand to shield half her face, squinting as she yawned.

She looked tired.

Ye Cike had exploited a loophole in the rules, and the production team couldn’t object. As per the rules, they assigned the two the best lodging.

It was a small courtyard house, complete with a kitchen and bathroom, and a lush, leafy tree in the yard. It was indeed quite nice.

Ye Cike took the keys to the courtyard without batting an eye, ignoring the director’s blatant accusatory glare.

Then she handed the keys to Xi Ling. “You go ahead. I still need to return the transplanter.”

Xi Ling nodded slightly, asking softly, “Where’d you get it?”

“Rented it from a farmer for a hundred, of course,” Ye Cike said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, so you spent half our money. What do we eat tomorrow?”

The hot water and food provided by the production team all cost money, and the prices were steep.

“”

Ye Cike let out a soft “tch,” her gaze wandering as she awkwardly touched the tip of her nose.

Xi Ling was amused by the series of reactions and smiled reassuringly. “It’s fine. We’ll figure it out together tomorrow.”

Her eyes curved into a beautiful arc, the sky’s light and clouds serving as her backdrop. It was a sweet enough smile.

Ye Cike couldn’t help but curl her lips, replying softly, “Alright.”

Watching the slender figure disappear into the bamboo grove and farmhouse, Ye Cike drove the transplanter back.

After returning it, she didn’t rush off. Instead, she found a chair at the production team’s temporary camp and sat down next to the director without a hint of hesitation.

Director: “What do you want now?”

She’d already whisked Xi Ling away and kept the cameras from following, wasting plenty of footage. That was actress Xi Ling! Even shooting a commercial with her was priced by the second.

Ye Cike leaned back in the chair, relaxed. “The transplanter’s great, convenient, and easy. Why insist on doing it by hand?”

The director was speechless. “Doing it by hand is the point! Otherwise, finishing so fast—what do we film?”

“You’re thinking about it wrong,” Ye Cike said, her expression serious. “You can film it like this: a big star comes to the countryside expecting a tough life. But surprise! Times have changed, the countryside’s thriving, and farming’s all mechanized.”

The director blinked, momentarily stunned.

Ye Cike continued, “Then you let the stars try new technology, learn to use the transplanter, and show the audience the country’s prosperity and technological progress. Isn’t that more meaningful than just planting rice?”

The director scratched his bald head. “That… kinda makes sense?”

Ye Cike gestured with her hands, adding meaningfully, “You’ve got to think bigger.”

Seeing the director nod repeatedly, Ye Cike shifted gears, pointing at Meng Gujin in the distance with a puzzled tone. “What are they doing?”

They were repeating the same action over and over, and the camera guy was running around for angles, looking exhausted.

“Meng Gujin thought a scene wasn’t good enough, and the shots weren’t right, so they’re redoing it,” the director said with a sigh. Too much hassle.

“The shots, huh,” Ye Cike muttered to herself, then scooted her chair closer to the director, saying naturally, “Let me see today’s footage.”

Director: ?

He’d just been thinking Ye Cike was a genius, and the next second, she showed her true colors, getting to the point. So it was about the footage!

Still, he pulled up the day’s material, asking helplessly, “What do you want? To delete that part of you two in the vehicle?”

Ye Cike didn’t answer, skimming through several clips at high speed, especially the afternoon ones.

She didn’t want to follow the script—she’d told the director that from the start—and was prepared for there to be little usable footage.

Plus, they’d spent so long in the rice fields, with the cameras only catching distant shots where their faces weren’t even visible.

Ye Cike didn’t care about herself, but she couldn’t let Xi Ling get dragged down with her.

Though it seemed she already had—even Xu Chaochao and Xu Mumu had more screen time than Xi Ling.

She clicked on a clip from when she went to borrow the transplanter, leaving Xi Ling waiting alone.

Xi Ling stood quietly, the breeze lifting her hair, her eyes seemingly veiled with a misty haze, a bit dreamy.

Ye Cike stared for a few seconds. “This looks great. Don’t toss it. It can go in the opening with some background music and scenery. And don’t delete the vehicle shots either.”

There wasn’t much to begin with—deleting more would be a disaster.

She pulled up a few more clips, teaching the director and editors how to cut them to highlight Xi Ling’s beauty.

She spoke with such confidence that the director was stunned, and the wildest part was, he actually thought it made sense.

“Alright,” Ye Cike said, seeing the sky darken. She clapped her hands and got ready to leave. “If anyone asks, don’t say I was here.”

The director nodded in agreement, watching the troublemaker saunter off.

But moments later, just as the camp quieted down, someone else arrived.

Xi Ling, now in a clean dress, sat gently beside the director—right in the same spot Ye Cike had just occupied.

Director: “You’re here to…?”

Xi Ling got straight to the point, nodding politely. “Look at the footage.”

“”

Resigned, he opened the files he’d just closed, thinking, what is going on?

“Hm, cut this part,” she said, her slender fingertip pointing at the screen. In the distance, green hills; up close, Ye Cike smiling brilliantly, almost dazzling.

Xi Ling’s eyelashes fluttered, her dewy eyes widening, looking somewhat innocent. “My expression’s a bit off. I don’t want it.”

“And this one,” she continued, sliding her finger to another clip, the thumbnail showing Ye Cike’s helpless smile in the vehicle. “This one too. My face looks off.”

The director watched her lie through her teeth, feeling a pang of sympathy—mostly for his show’s viewership.

She reviewed the clips a few times, then stood, smoothing her skirt as if preparing to leave.

“I’ll compensate accordingly. If anyone asks—”

“I’ll say you were never here,” the director cut in, signaling he understood.

Xi Ling tilted her head, giving a smile so gentle it was almost too much, yet her eyes held a deep, stubborn resolve.

“No, tell them I wanted it cut.”