When a Scumbag Cannon Fodder Alpha Meets a Mad Movie Queen Villainess - Chapter 32

“What?” Shen Yuanyi broke free from Qi Ning’an’s embrace, her eyes bright and clear, shimmering with unshed tears.

Her fingers clenched tightly, her expression a mix of urgency and helplessness.

Of course, hearing something like that would startle anyone.

Qi Ning’an smiled faintly. “You can think of it as roleplay. I want to hear you call me ‘Mom.'”

The speaker wasn’t embarrassed, but the listener’s cheeks flushed crimson. Her lips trembled as she struggled to find words to protest.

“Is it not okay?” The little rabbit’s disappointment was obvious as she lowered her head. “This request is too much, isn’t it? I should think of another birthday wish that doesn’t trouble you, puppy.”

At that, Shen Yuanyi tightened her grip. “It’s fine!”

She had promised to fulfill Qi Ning’an’s wish, and this wasn’t something too difficult to do.

“Then call me ‘Mom.'” Qi Ning’an’s lips curled imperceptibly as she hid her amusement behind a sip of tea.

The living room fell silent, and for a long moment, Shen Yuanyi didn’t make a sound.

A sidelong glance revealed her struggling to force out the two words.

Her ears burned red, her fingertips digging into her thighs. “M…Mom…”

Her voice was barely audible, as faint as a mosquito’s hum.

“Did you say something?” Qi Ning’an teased deliberately.

Shen Yuanyi abruptly stood up, her voice trembling. “I—I’ll come back another time. I need to prepare myself first.”

“Another time? Shouldn’t we set a date, then?” Qi Ning’an lifted her gaze, her eyes innocent and harmless as she smiled sweetly at her.

She was just a pure, harmless little rabbit—how had she come up with such a request?

“How about this weekend?” Shen Yuanyi scratched her cheek nervously.

If that wasn’t acceptable, she’d suggest tomorrow.

But the little rabbit was still just that—naïve and clueless about bargaining. She agreed without hesitation. “Sure.”

“Then it’s settled.” Shen Yuanyi, afraid Qi Ning’an might change her mind, grabbed her things and left without looking back.

Less than ten minutes had passed between entering and leaving. Outside, Shen Muhan raised an eyebrow.

Seeing Shen Yuanyi emerge, clutching her chest and gasping for breath as if she’d narrowly escaped disaster, only deepened her confusion. She frowned. “What did you do in there?”

She tailed Shen Yuanyi all the way home, making sure to arrive a few minutes earlier to wait for her.

When the door opened, Shen Yuanyi froze, nearly convinced she’d walked into the wrong house—until she realized it was just her sister standing there.

“What were you doing outside?” Shen Muhan asked.

“N-Nothing.” Shen Yuanyi stared straight ahead, but the moment Qi Ning’an’s words flashed through her mind, her heart skipped a beat, and she lowered her head.

“You’ve never been good at lying. ‘N-Nothing’ always means something.” Shen Muhan stepped closer, her gaze sharp. “Tell me. What did you do? Who did you meet? Who was it?”

“You—” Shen Yuanyi almost asked how she knew it involved meeting someone, but that was probably just a standard question. She didn’t suspect her sister had followed her.

“Hmm?” Shen Muhan continued advancing. Her sweet, soft little sister was hers—no one else was allowed to bully her.

Shen Yuanyi figured it wasn’t a big deal and confessed. “Qi Ning’an. She gave me an 88,888 yuan red packet during New Year’s. I went to return the money.”

“So the rumors online really had some truth to them.”

Shen Yuanyi raised her eyes, clenching her fingers as she retorted, “That’s not true at all. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

Suddenly being embraced, Shen Muhan said, “I know none of this is your fault. That person left everything for you to clarify alone. Promise me you’ll cut ties with such people, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Shen Yuanyi broke free and shook her head—she’d lost count of how many times her head had been buried in someone’s chest today. “She’s actually really nice. She’s not what you think.”

A memory flashed through her mind—her sister had always been good to her, but she’d also screened all her friends, leaving her completely alone when she went to become a trainee.

“How nice could she be? Nicer than your sister?”

Shen Yuanyi took a deep breath, tilting her chin up. She wanted to say her sister was wonderful too, but steeled herself instead. “They’re not comparable.” She sidestepped and retreated into her room.

Left standing like a scorned noble cat, Shen Muhan took a deep breath and clenched her fists.

“Qi Ning’an,” she practically spat the name through gritted teeth. A scheming woman like that had no place beside her sweet younger sister.

Her overseas assistant called, and Shen Muhan answered irritably, switching to English. The assistant informed her about an upcoming collaboration with a domestic celebrity in two days. Born to two mothers who were both music and dance teachers, the eldest daughter had been groomed as the vessel for their obsessive ambitions—to create a prodigy renowned in both fields. Strict diets, relentless posture training… Then the younger sister was born, and the mothers’ control shifted onto her. Controlling someone was exhilarating—no wonder they’d done it to her.

When the assistant mentioned the collaborator was Qi Ning’an, Shen Muhan finally tuned in. She agreed to attend before hanging up, letting out a cold laugh. Time to see what this woman was made of.

Shen Yuanyi only needed her. That was enough.

Meanwhile, Shen Yuanyi lay in bed, practicing how to naturally say the word “Mom.” Might as well treat it like acting.

She scoured the internet for tips, even joining discussion groups. She tried different tones—playful, lazy, cute—practicing into the empty air. She felt fairly confident.

Just as drowsiness overtook her, her manager called, jolting her awake. She sat up and answered.

The manager mentioned a variety show in two days—a simple food-tasting program. With her rising popularity, offers were pouring in. Shen Yuanyi agreed without much thought.

Lying back down, she stared at the harsh ceiling light. One week left to prepare. There was no way she’d fail to say “Mom” in front of Qi Ning’an.

Lights off. Sleep.

By Wednesday, her so-called sister had left early. Shen Yuanyi followed shortly after.

At the filming set, positioned as one of four food critics, she would sample dishes from seven guest chefs, score them, then discuss the creators’ identities before wrapping up. A straightforward format for a wildly popular live-streamed food show known for iconic moments and memes.

Recording began. Seated, Shen Yuanyi watched the screen display the first guest—only gloved hands and a voice modulator visible.

Those were hands that had never touched a drop of hardship. During the three-minute ingredient selection period, watching the guest fumble around—even holding broccoli while asking what it was—had the live chat exploding with “HAHAHA” laughter.

As the three food critics beside her slammed the table laughing, Shen Yuanyi didn’t actually find it that funny, but she still played along.

When the camera panned to her, she poured a lifetime’s worth of acting into that moment.

The three minutes ended, and the second guest stepped up. Her fingers were slender, her voice unhurried and pleasant, giving Shen Yuanyi a strangely familiar feeling.

The ingredients she picked were all Shen Yuanyi’s favorites.

The chat buzzed with guesses about her identity, with the most common comment being: “She must be an elegant, graceful, and refined woman.”

Shen Yuanyi thought so too, her mind automatically conjuring Qi Ning’an… though she wouldn’t participate in a show like this, would she?

The three minutes ended, and the next guest appeared—also with long, delicate fingers and an elegant demeanor, though her speech was slightly faster than the previous one.

The chat erupted: “Wow, this episode is packed with beauties—what a feast for the eyes!”

Shen Yuanyi observed the three food critics as they blushed and giggled, praising the guests as “wife material.” Instantly, her expression soured, brows furrowing in discomfort—she couldn’t get used to this.

The remaining four guests could mostly be guessed by their hands and tone of voice, but the dishes they made were increasingly disastrous, making one question if it was even edible.

The chat roared with laughter, the mood jubilant.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen.

Shen Muhan immediately locked onto Qi Ning’an—what luck, their stations were side by side. Out of the corner of her eye, she sized her up: outwardly decent, but inwardly scheming and filthy.

“Excuse me, could I borrow some oil?” Shen Muhan asked.

Qi Ning’an glanced at her. She’d noticed from the start that this woman had been staring—her face eerily similar to Shen Yuanyi’s, but her eyes lacked Yuanyi’s clarity. Instead, her gaze was sticky, disdainful, and brimming with hostility.

If not for the cameras, Qi Ning’an would’ve demanded to know who she was.

“Sure, go ahead,” Qi Ning’an replied gently, embodying serenity and kindness—soft-spoken, unassuming, like a docile lamb.

Shen Muhan smiled. “Thanks.” She picked up the oil from Qi Ning’an’s station and, as if by accident, spilled it—right where Qi Ning’an was working.

Clasping her hands together, she bowed repeatedly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

Qi Ning’an watched her terrible acting with calm detachment. Who could’ve developed such strong animosity toward her at first sight?

She smiled faintly. “It’s fine. There’s a mop over there—you can clean it up.”

The woman’s fingers clenched imperceptibly, her eyes flashing with disbelief before quickly masking it.

“Mm, of course,” she murmured apologetically.

Idiot, Shen Muhan seethed inwardly. Cold oil mixed with water—hope you slip and make a fool of yourself.

As the woman walked away, Qi Ning’an felt a dull resignation. She knew the hostility was deliberate—even fetching the mop was part of the scheme.

She just couldn’t fathom why she was being targeted.

The woman returned with a mop soaked in cold water, droplets splashing onto the smooth tiles. Apologies spilled from her lips, but her movements were anything but remorseful.

So eager to see her take a tumble and embarrass herself on camera, are we?

The kitchen had eight stoves, meant for eight guests, but one had to cancel last minute.

After the woman finished mopping the floor, Qi Ning’an raised her hand to signal the staff. “There seems to be an issue with my stove. I’d like to switch spots.”

Without hesitation, the staff nodded and gave an OK sign.

Shen Muhan clenched her teeth, forcing a smile as she watched Qi Ning’an.

The woman couldn’t wrap her head around it—why did someone who looked as harmless as a rabbit prove so difficult to deal with?

What a schemer, fooling Shen Yuanyi so completely. Such a dangerous presence could never be allowed near Shen Yuanyi.

Ignoring the woman’s glare, Qi Ning’an carried her ingredients to the far-right station, determined to prepare a lavish feast that would leave the little pup stuffed and utterly amazed.