The Scummy Alpha Is Deliberately Marked by the Femme Fatale - Chapter 6

Suddenly, everything seemed to make sense.

Netizens swarmed to dig up the account of that illustrator from five years ago, comparing the styles side by side. In the end, they reached a unanimous conclusion—enough to push the topic straight onto the trending list.

#TheSoftCuteArtistFromFiveYearsAgoIsActuallyScummyAlphaLiCen

#MyPerfectWifeJustGotExposed

#FuTingConfessedToLiCen?!

The third trending tag came from a Q&A segment during the event. Many speculated that Fu Ting was actually Li Cen’s “white moonlight” and that Li Cen was now only staying by Yan Qi’s side out of necessity.

But that rumor didn’t last long. Li Cen’s studio quickly issued a statement proving that she and Fu Ting had only just met and had no romantic entanglement. They also announced plans to send cease-and-desist letters to those spreading false claims.

Manager He-jie was efficient as always—within minutes, the trending heat was completely suppressed.

Throughout Li Cen’s entire interaction with Fu Ting, Yan Qi’s expression had never truly softened. But when she saw that blurry, indistinct sketch… something in her mood seemed to lift ever so slightly.

Yan Qi was the last to take the stage. She picked up a paintbrush and stood before the blank canvas, smiling faintly at the staff holding up the prompt cards. At the cue, the first topic was revealed to everyone.

[White Moonlight? Huh? How the hell do you draw that? Director, are you trying to stir the pot?]

[By the way, who was the first person that came to Qi Qi’s mind when she saw these two characters? She spaced out for quite a while.]

[Wait—Qi Qi has a “white moonlight”? Who? Why have I never heard of this before?]

[Probably just some random civilian.]

[One table, eight hundred scheming thoughts.]

It was indeed a tricky question. For a moment, Yan Qi had no idea what to draw.

After all, everyone’s “white moonlight” was different. If she drew her very first thought, she’d be revealing something far too personal.

She bit her lip, as if steeling herself for a decision.

“Change the topic.”

[I thought Yan Qi was building up to something big, but nope—this is what we get.]

[I was ready to get some tea out of this. Instead? Nothing.]

[Suspicious. Maybe Qi Qi has her own drama we don’t know about.]

The staff swapped the card, revealing the next topic.

[OMG?! The program team is really stirring the pot today.]

[Seriously? Rigged much?]

[Yan Qi hates her—no way she’ll draw her nicely. Your opinion of someone affects how you imagine them.]

Li Cen wasn’t paying attention to the card reveal. She was busy whispering with Fu Ting.

Fu Ting seemed to notice something, tugged at Li Cen’s sleeve, and only then did Li Cen lift her gaze toward the card in the staff’s hands.

Her name.

She shifted her gaze to Yan Qi, curious to see how Yan Qi would portray her. Her eyes lingered, full of amused anticipation.

Yan Qi merely glanced at her, brushed her bangs back with cool detachment, and wore no extra warmth on her face.

And yet… before long, Li Cen’s likeness appeared on the canvas—exactly as she looked today, glancing back as she removed her glasses, a lazy smirk curving her lips in that cocky, roguish way.

[Li Cen’s kinda hot…]

[Screenshot frenzy! Any “mommies” making photocards?]

[Forming a group order—drop your names!]

[Can someone please color this and post the final version?]

[Bl00d petition for photocards!]

[That’s it? It’s not even that good. Toss it. Oh, and tell me where you tossed it.]

[LMAO your scheming just stabbed me in the eyeballs.]

When Li Cen saw the painting, her heart skipped a beat. Her focus was instantly drawn to it.

Art, after all, was the clearest reflection of the artist’s inner world.

The lines were sharp, the canvas clean, the figure vivid… It was so her. But Yan Qi wasn’t her, Li Cen told herself. That was the excuse she clung to.

Round after round, Yan Qi’s skills racked up plenty of points. But because of the slow start, her team still trailed Li Cen’s by three points.

The other guests weren’t much good at drawing, so the gap between the top two groups and the rest kept growing. The livestream’s viewer count began to dip.

But the director, ever the chaos-lover, wasn’t about to let the excitement die. He cut in live:

“We’ve heard some viewers are curious—Li Cen, who exactly did you give those flowers and that plush toy to? Would you care to share?”

[Ugh, I love and hate this director in equal measure.]

[Mind your own business! Can’t she just keep them for herself?]

[True, but if she did give them away… I’d like to know to whom.]

He just lives to stir the pot. Like I need a hundred trending tags a day… Can I skip this question?

Li Cen’s mouth twitched. She bit back the urge to curse him out and plastered on a professional smile.

“You guess. If you guess right, I’ll tell you.”

[LOL so basically, ‘Guess whether I’ll tell you the truth.’]

[As long as she doesn’t admit it, it’s not right.]

[Iconic non-answer.]

[Do we even need to guess? Obviously it’s Yan Qi. Didn’t you see the 5 p.m. stream? The plushie was from Yan Qi to Li Cen.]

[Wait—there was a 5 p.m. stream? I thought only Li Cen’s part aired?]

That viewer promptly dropped the clip, sending traffic rushing to the earlier broadcast.

In it, Yan Qi had just gotten off work at the pet store and was standing in front of the plushie display, reluctant to leave.

The shop owner stepped outside, smiled warmly, and asked, “Looking to buy a plushie, young lady? You could also win one by playing a little game.”

“How can I get that doll?”

“Ah—good eye. That’s our shop’s crown jewel. Not for sale. My daughter loves it, so we dressed it up and put it here for display. But take a look at the others—they’re just as nice.”

“And this one?”

Her gaze shifted to the giant floppy-eared bunny—so fluffy it made you want to dive into its arms.

“Oh, that one? You’d have to hit ten bullseyes in a row with the shooting game to win it. Want to give it a try?”

“No, no. I’m not here to buy. I’m here to help you sell it.”

And so began the encounter between a costumed Yan Qi and an off-duty Li Cen.

[Kinda shippable, not gonna lie.]

[You’ll ship anything when you’re hungry enough.]

[She was just working, okay? They’re not actually in love—it’s all marketing.]

[I’m Team Li Cen & Fu Ting. Yan Qi and Li Cen aren’t even in the same league.]

[My daughter is way too good to like someone like Li Cen. Don’t throw mud at her.]

…

As the comment section erupted again, the stream’s viewership shot from 500k to 3 million. The director grinned like a fool.

“Let’s move on to Round Two—The Great Minds Think Alike Challenge!”

Li Cen sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. This was going to be a disaster.

She and Fu Ting exchanged a glance—utterly lacking in synchronicity. How were they supposed to win points like this?

Li Cen sneaked a glance at Yan Qi, who was openly staring at her. Yan Qi tilted her head and murmured, “Puppy, are you peeking at me?”

Li Cen snapped her head away, annoyed at the nickname. Then, realizing she’d just ceded ground, she turned back sharply. “Don’t call me ‘puppy.’”

“Don’t like it? I think it suits you.”

Yan Qi poked her cheek lightly. Li Cen exhaled deeply, helpless. “Yan Qi, don’t you think we’re being… a little ambiguous?”

“Changing the subject because you got caught?”

The words hit home. Li Cen’s stomach dropped, and she turned her flushed face away, unable to meet Yan Qi’s eyes.

“The first pair up—Li Cen and Fu Ting.”

Li Cen rose slowly, walking to the center of the stage to face Fu Ting across a desk. Yan Qi sat in her seat, eyes locked on the two like a hawk.

“First question: Which came first—the chicken or the egg?”

[…What the heck? I thought it was going to be something juicy.]

[Even scientists can’t answer that, and you’re asking them?]

[You guys do realize this is the ‘Great Minds Think Alike’ challenge, not a philosophy class, right?]

Li Cen stared blankly at her paper. She and Fu Ting exchanged a glance before looking away.

She didn’t know the answer herself—let alone guess what Fu Ting would write.

When their answers were revealed, Fu Ting had written “chicken” and Li Cen had written “egg.”

Zero points. Not that Li Cen was surprised—they’d only just met.

“Second question: Name one food Fu Ting likes.”

Li Cen blinked. On the way here, she’d been too busy thinking about Yan Qi to read the profile Manager He-jie had prepared for her.

She decided to gamble—cute girls usually liked little cakes, right? She wrote it down.

When the boards were flipped, Fu Ting nodded. “That’s one of my favorites.”

Her own board was filled with a long list, just in case.

“Third question: Li Cen’s ideal partner’s height and weight.”

Both women instinctively glanced at Yan Qi. Li Cen felt a wave of pressure—she didn’t even know Yan Qi’s exact measurements.

Sure, she’d read her profile once, but she hadn’t paid much attention to those numbers.

Yan Qi seemed to notice her intense gaze, giving her a slow once-over in return.

“You have ten seconds—write it down,” the director urged.

Hmm… maybe one-seventy-something? Weight… fifty kilos? That tiny waist—maybe even less than fifty…

When time was up, they revealed Fu Ting’s board first: 178cm / 50kg.

[Wait—that’s literally Yan Qi’s height and weight. Fu Ting, you ship them too? Good taste.]

[Don’t tell me Li Cen doesn’t know Yan Qi’s stats?]

[It said ‘ideal type.’ What if Yan Qi’s not even her type?]