Transmigrated as the Scumbag Alpha of a Cold Movie Queen - Chapter 33.1

Yan Xuan pushed the wheelchair with all her might, dashing at full speed. Thanks to her daily jogging routine, she had the stamina to sprint swiftly toward the area set up by the production team.

Qi Siyu, guided by the system, chased after Gu Qing. In her urgency, she tapped into a hidden well of strength—those nearby only felt a gust of wind as she passed. By the time they turned their heads, all they could see was her retreating figure.

“Stop!” Qi Siyu shouted as she rapidly closed the distance between her and Gu Qing.

Yan Xuan trembled at the sound, gritting her teeth as she picked up speed.

Before they reached the designated task area, Qi Siyu caught up with Yan Xuan. She grabbed Yan Xuan’s shoulder and yanked her back hard.

With a loud thud, Yan Xuan crashed to the ground. The wheelchair, however, gradually rolled to a safe stop.

“Are—are you okay?” Qi Siyu gasped, one hand gripping the wheelchair’s armrest and the other braced on her knee, panting heavily.

Gu Qing looked up at her, eyes shining with a mix of worry and relief. She reached up and gently touched the sweat bead that had rolled to Qi Siyu’s nose.

The droplet was as hot as boiling water—Gu Qing flinched back at the searing heat.

“I’m fine,” she replied coolly, forcing herself to remain composed. Her demeanor was flawless; she would not allow herself to be moved by Qi Siyu’s actions.

“Good…” Qi Siyu exhaled in relief at Gu Qing’s calm expression and collapsed onto the ground. Her legs were weak, devoid of any strength.

Now that the adrenaline had faded, her body’s backlash came in full force.

She had never run like this before—her breath tasted like bl00d. She closed her eyes against the pain, her features twisted in discomfort.

The production staff quickly gathered around. Five of them rushed to check on Qi Siyu and Gu Qing, while two helped Yan Xuan to her feet.

Yan Xuan had taken a nasty fall—scratches covered her face and hands, bl00d mixing with dust.

“What happened here?” Sun Yingying’s high-pitched voice pierced the air as she approached with Bai Ziyun.

This PK mission had been randomly assigned to Yan Xuan and Sun Yingying via a blind box. Sun Yingying teamed up with Bai Ziyun for a win-win strategy, while Yan Xuan, having failed to find another partner, ran into Gu Qing. Seeing that Qi Siyu wasn’t with her, she tried to bring Gu Qing along, just to meet the headcount requirement.

After all, the PK only involved answering questions—even if Gu Qing refused to cooperate, Yan Xuan thought she could manage it solo.

Qi Siyu listened to their explanation. If she had the energy, she would’ve rolled her eyes to the heavens.

What a joke. You gain the screen time, and I’m the one left suffering.

“I’m so sorry! I just got a little desperate earlier.” Yan Xuan’s eyes welled with tears. “But since we’re already here, Miss Gu, would you please join the PK with me? All you have to do is nod—you won’t have to lift a finger.”

Her plea, paired with her bloodied and battered appearance, actually looked quite pitiful.

Before Gu Qing could respond, Qi Siyu, struggling to raise her head, suddenly coughed up a mouthful of bl00d.

Everyone: !!

Gu Qing’s eyes widened, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached out instinctively toward Qi Siyu.

Staff immediately called for an ambulance, helping Qi Siyu sit up.

Gu Qing, confined to her wheelchair, could only watch helplessly while responding to the staff’s concerns about her condition.

After all, she had been involved in this whole mess too.

“I’m fine,” she repeated calmly. “No discomfort at all.”

Qi Siyu, after resting for a bit, wiped her mouth and said hoarsely, “I’m okay. No need for an amb—”

The moment she saw the bl00d on her fingers, she passed out cold.

She had a bl00d phobia.

Everyone: !!!

“She faints at the sight of bl00d,” Gu Qing explained flatly.

“That’s a relief. Must’ve just been from overexertion—maybe some damage to her respiratory tract. Don’t worry,” Sun Yingying quickly piped up, taking the chance to cozy up to Gu Qing.

Gu Qing gave a noncommittal hum, but her hands, resting on the armrests, were tightly clenched. Her nails dug into her palms.

Did she really push herself this hard just to chase after me? Without even knowing the situation?

Gu Qing felt a pang of regret. She could’ve braked the wheelchair—Yan Xuan wouldn’t have been able to push her. But she didn’t.

Regret wasn’t an emotion she often indulged in—useless, she usually thought. But right now, she genuinely regretted it.

“Miss Gu, do you smell lemon? Maybe even a bit sweet?” Sun Yingying’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

Gu Qing exhaled slowly, steadying herself. “It’s probably Qi Siyu’s pheromones.”

Bl00d holds the second-highest concentration of pheromones—higher than saliva, second only to… that.

Plus, with how much she’d sweated, the scent from her sweat would’ve been noticeable too. It was natural for others to pick up on it.

“Then President Qi must have really high-grade pheromones. The effect is so strong,” Sun Yingying murmured dreamily.

Gu Qing glanced around. Most of the Omegas nearby had flushed cheeks and a hint of longing in their eyes—clearly affected by the Alpha’s scent.

She frowned, feeling oddly irritated but unsure why.

“I need an inhibitor shot. Luckily, I brought one,” Sun Yingying said, pulling out a thumb-sized vial and injecting it into her vein.

“Want one too, Miss Gu? I brought the best brand.” She smiled, eager to please. The shot cost 5,000 yuan each, and she’d even used virtual currency to reclaim it.

“No need. I’m fine,” Gu Qing replied coolly.

“Of course, of course. Not surprising for someone like you—such strong willpower! I could never,” Sun Yingying gushed.

The ambulance arrived swiftly. Qi Siyu was loaded in, and the rest followed in the production van. Naturally, the PK was canceled—no one had the energy to continue.

Yan Xuan would get her moment on the trending list, sure—probably something like “Suspected kidnapper pursued across miles”, but definitely not in a flattering way.

________________________________________

At the hospital, Qi Siyu was diagnosed and given strict instructions to remain on bed rest for a day.

“You’ve overexerted yourself. There’s bleeding in the airway. Avoid intense activity moving forward,” the doctor said, handing the prescription over.

“Thank you,” Gu Qing replied with a polite nod.

“I’ll go get the medicine for you, Miss Gu,” Sun Yingying offered.

“I’ll go,” Yan Xuan added, her face full of guilt. “I caused this. Let me at least do something to make up for it.”

Gu Qing turned to the production staff instead. “Could I trouble you?”

Yan Xuan’s face darkened at being ignored, while Sun Yingying continued smiling cheerily—she’d chosen this path of clinging to the powerful, and she knew it meant enduring some cold shoulders.

“Of course,” the staff replied, quickly taking the slip and heading out.

________________________________________

When Qi Siyu woke up, the bleeding in her lungs had stopped, but her throat still hurt, and her legs felt like they were filled with lead.

She didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to face the world.

The livestream had been going on—with four separate feeds, no less. And Gu Qing’s room had the highest viewer count. How many people had seen her pass out from the sight of bl00d?

And to top it off—coughing up bl00d from running too hard?

The thought alone made her dizzy. Would she forever be branded as the weakling who faints at bl00d?

“You’re awake. Drink your medicine,” Gu Qing’s voice cut through her spiral.

Qi Siyu snapped her eyes open. She thought Gu Qing had leaned in close again, but when she looked, she was sitting a full meter away.

A strange sense of disappointment washed over her, which she quickly shoved down.

Disappointed? About what? What’s so great about her breath on my ear anyway?!

“Okay,” Qi Siyu croaked—startled by how awful her own voice sounded. Like a broken bellows.

Her reaction was so obvious that Gu Qing pursed her lips and said gently, “You strained your throat. Try not to speak too much these next few days. Take your medicine on time and you’ll recover quickly.”

Qi Siyu covered her face. “Got it.”

She downed the bitter medicine in one gulp, eyes rolling from the taste.

Gu Qing wanted to ask why she’d run so fast—but in the end, the words never left her lips.

Whatever the reason was, it doesn’t really matter.

Qi Siyu looked around, realizing she was back in her own room, and that over two hours had passed since they left for the mission.

She suddenly shot upright. “Let’s go—let’s get back to the task!”

“I can handle it myself. You should rest,” Gu Qing replied calmly.

“Of course I’m coming with you!” Although Qi Siyu wasn’t afraid of electric shocks, she couldn’t endure being electrocuted for hours.

Gu Qing frowned, but before she could say anything, Qi Siyu had already jumped out of bed, dressed in a flash, and was urgently wheeling herself out of the room.

Since the wheelchair was under Qi Siyu’s control, Gu Qing couldn’t forcibly stop her and simply followed.

But Gu Qing couldn’t understand—why did she insist on coming along?

Because she knew the inside story, Qi Siyu wanted to redeem her image. After fainting and appearing weak earlier, she hoped to present herself as observant and intelligent to save face. Even though her legs were still weak and shaky, she pushed herself to keep up. Soon enough, they completed their tasks.

“Phew—good thing we finished before dinner. Didn’t delay your meal. Come on, let’s go eat.” Qi Siyu was in high spirits. She ordered a whole bunch of food, returned to their room, put on one of Gu Qing’s movies, flopped onto the sofa, and began eating, chatting with the livestream audience as they watched.

Gu Qing remained as quiet as ever, occasionally glancing at the comments and replying to fans here and there.

There was a serene and peaceful vibe to the whole scene.

Soon, it was time for the day’s results. Because of the drama that morning, everyone arrived early—no one was late.

“Everyone’s really motivated today! Each of you completed your personal tasks, and you all earned quite a bit of Leisure Coins!” The host was all smiles as usual. She brought out a display board listing everyone’s tasks, coin earnings, and remaining balance in detail.

There were also several leaderboards: livestream popularity, number of comments, Leisure Coin total, task completion count, and most popular guest.

Gu Qing was an absolute first place on both livestream-related rankings.

The Leisure Coin leaderboard was topped by Bai Ming’an. She had completed a 666-coin blind box task and many other tasks as well. Plus, she was extremely frugal—her meals were just the cheapest steamed buns—so her final total reached 1,208 coins.

Gu Qing, on the other hand, had only 352 left, placing her fifth. Even though Qi Siyu had secretly arranged a 999-coin task for her, it was offset by her lavish spending—she always picked the best of everything.

On the task completion board, Bai Ziyun ranked first, Sun Yingying second, and Bai Ming’an only third.

If not for that blind box task, the Leisure Coin rankings would have likely followed that order too.

Both Bai Ziyun and Sun Yingying glared angrily at Bai Ming’an. They had also received the blind box task but were tricked—Bai Ming’an rushed to finish it ahead of them.

Unforgivable!

As for the last leaderboard—the “most popular” one—it was still blank.

After congratulating the top scorers in each category, the host beamed even brighter. “And now we come to the most popular guest leaderboard! This one is based on votes cast by all of you.”

“Each of you gets two votes—one for your favorite guest, and one for your least favorite. A favorite vote adds one point, while a dislike deducts one point. We’ll tally them up to determine the ranking.”

“Just like the other four leaderboards, the top guest gets a reward, and the bottom guest gets a punishment.”

The host winked. “Voting is anonymous… but—”

“You can spend coins to see who voted for whom!”

Everyone: …

What a blatant cash grab.

“Can we vote for ourselves as our favorite?” Sun Yingying raised her hand to ask.

“Of course not. And you can only choose one person.” The host giggled behind her hand. “But don’t worry too much about the punishment—after all, in this place, coins can solve everything~”

Once the guests received their voting cards, they immediately dispersed. Most had no trouble picking someone they disliked—it had been a long, frustrating day.

But picking a favorite? That was tricky. No one really wanted to give anyone else a benefit.

Gu Qing was the first to submit her votes. Qi Siyu peeked and saw that she had voted Lu Hui—that quiet, unassuming paper-cutting heritage artist—as her favorite, and Jia Junjie as her least favorite.

Qi Siyu had a complicated feeling about it.

Lu Hui? That girl was practically invisible. Why would Gu Qing notice her?

Qi Siyu’s gaze involuntarily drifted to Lu Hui—short, plain features, and a weak personality. She followed others like an echo, never forming opinions of her own.

Amitabha, Qi Siyu exhaled slowly. What was wrong with her?

Sure, none of these people were saints, but was it really necessary to mentally drag Lu Hui down just because Gu Qing happened to notice her?

Qi Siyu thought that once the show wrapped up, she should redeem a prize that would allow her to spend a few days away from Gu Qing. Maybe five days. Or… three. Just enough time to cool her head a little. And maybe stop by Hengdian—she still intended to pursue a career in directing.

While she was at it, she should find a professional manager for the original host’s company. Or promote the VP. She was definitely not CEO material.

“What are you thinking about?” Gu Qing’s voice rang out—yet again—right beside her.

Qi Siyu snapped out of her daze and found a voting card held in front of her by Gu Qing’s long, slender fingers.

“N-Nothing,” Qi Siyu stammered.

“Then, thank you,” Gu Qing tilted her head slightly and nudged the card forward again.

Only then did Qi Siyu realize what was going on. She quickly took the card and handed it in to the host. Returning, she mumbled, “No need to thank me.”

Gu Qing glanced at her, saying nothing—but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Qi Siyu was acting stranger by the day.

After voting ended, the host and assistants swiftly compiled the results. Gu Qing came in first on the most popular list—followed by Lu Hui. Bai Ming’an was dead last.

Even the obnoxious, rude Jia Junjie was only second to last.

Bai Ming’an’s smile froze. She took a deep breath and resolved to do some damage control tonight—form a little clique, pick a new target. Otherwise, she’d keep being targeted in future votes. This needed to stop.

Her eyes landed on Lu Hui. That girl got second place? Seriously?

Lu Hui flinched and quickly lowered her head, avoiding Bai Ming’an’s gaze.

She wanted fame not for herself but to promote her cultural heritage work, fulfilling her grandmother’s last wish. But her introverted nature made her ill-suited for the camera.

“The rewards will be distributed privately by our staff,” the host announced. “But the punishments? Those start now! Let’s bring in the punishment wheel!”

He smiled broadly. “Let’s see what our four bottom-ranked guests draw. So exciting!”