Transmigrating into the Rival's Fanfiction - Chapter 31

Qin Zhi stood before the mirror, studying her reflection. The person staring back felt unfamiliar, her expression shifting between light and shadow, unsettlingly strange.

An inexplicable unease lingered.

Yesterday, she hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, yet she felt as if she’d been infected with drunkenness, compelled to continue against her will. Perhaps she was simply too vulnerable.

In the past, she had disdained romantic dramas, preferring scripts tailored specifically for her or solo projects without another lead actor.

Though she had won numerous awards, the internet buzzed with criticism. Qin Zhi remained indifferent. The quality of the script or the brilliance of the performance meant nothing to her; she only accepted roles she genuinely enjoyed.

But this sudden transmigration into the world of fanfiction had shattered her long-held beliefs.

“Teacher Qin, are you ready? We need to start filming in half an hour,” Fang Qing called out, gently knocking on the bathroom door. The boss had been inside for half an hour, and Fang Qing hadn’t heard any water running. Growing concerned, she knocked again.

“I’m coming,” Qin Zhi replied, shaking off her wandering thoughts. She splashed cold water on her face and emerged from the bathroom.

She resumed her usual icy, aloof, and superior demeanor.

Today’s scene featured a confrontation between her and Luo Hu. In the film, they played siblings who were constantly at odds—a dynamic that mirrored their real-life animosity. No acting was required; their off-screen tension bled seamlessly into their roles.

Despite his resentment, Luo Hu dared not show it too openly, given Qin Zhi’s formidable family background. As the Director’s handpicked choice, he felt secure, unless things escalated to a full-blown conflict.

Qin Zhi, however, was plagued by worries. During filming, she deliberately took two extra pills to stabilize her turbulent emotions.

These are medications, she reminded herself. I can’t take any more. I can’t predict the consequences if I do.

Today’s scene depicted the Princess and Crown Prince’s bitter falling-out, their weapons clashing as former siblings became mortal enemies in an instant.

Qin Zhi’s martial arts fundamentals far surpassed Luo Hu’s. She had trained for a year or two, mastering enough techniques to handle most film fight scenes.

Before stepping onto the set, Luo Hu had been confident in his combat skills. But facing Qin Zhi, he felt outmatched, losing momentum after just three exchanges.

“Qin Yinghou… you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

According to the martial arts director’s standards, they should have exchanged at least five moves before the Crown Prince’s defense gradually faltered, leading to him being knocked to the ground by a single strike, landing in an undignified heap.

“My apologies,” Qin Zhi said with a cold smile, performing a graceful flourish with her blade before sheathing it. “Sparring with Mr. Luo felt so natural that I accidentally forgot to hold back.”

Though hatred burned in his eyes, Luo Hu maintained a smile. “Nonsense, nonsense. An obscure actor like myself can hardly compare to Qin Yinghou.”

His self-deprecating words subtly dragged Qin Zhi down as well. If he was an obscure actor, then why was Qin Zhi, the Three-Golden-Award-Winning Actress, filming scenes with him?

“Not much skill, but plenty of vinegar.”

“The director said we’re having pickled fish for lunch today.”

Seeing the two were about to erupt into a full-blown argument, the director immediately signaled the props team to reset the set for another take of the botched scene.

“You…!”

Once again rendered speechless with anger, Luo Hu flung his sleeve in frustration. If the contract breach penalty weren’t so steep, he would have packed his bags and left long ago.

“Mr. Luo, I know exactly who’s backing you.”

With just those words, Luo Hu fell silent. In the entertainment industry, nearly all A-list and B-list stars have wealthy backers—whether through financial ties, romantic relationships, or prestigious family connections.

How could a pure white flower like Sheng Mingluo ever reach the top?

Clean individuals like Sheng Mingluo might at best become moderately successful supporting actresses. While some might recognize her name and mention her among rising stars, her commercial appeal and endorsement opportunities would remain precarious, like walking on thin ice.

If Sheng Mingluo had found a patron or simply been willing to play the game, she would have long since become one of the Four Great Actresses. With her stunning looks, achieving stardom would have been effortless with the right backing.

Ever since Sheng Mingluo accepted this script, rumors had spread both within and outside the industry: Who is she sleeping with now?

Yet no one could uncover the truth.

Green Software is still desperately trying to identify Sheng Mingluo’s patron, but their efforts have been fruitless.

Qin Zhi, seeing his bluster fade, remained unfazed. She had dealt with countless men like him; sometimes, a little coercion was necessary to make them believe her words.

After finishing the breakfast Xu Yun had bought for her, Sheng Mingluo listlessly flopped back onto her bed. Finally having a day off, she was determined to spend it as a homebody.

Just as she was about to doze off, her phone, resting on the bedside table, vibrated. Someone had sent her a text message—a text message?

These days, people usually communicated through WeChat. Receiving a text message was rare, except for spam.

Usually, these messages were just curses wishing her death. Sheng Mingluo was about to swipe it away, ignoring it as usual, when her eye caught Qin Zhi’s name scrolling across the screen.

Miss Sheng, hello. I am Qin Zhi’s mother. May I request a meeting with you?

I hope you won’t refuse me, Miss Sheng. A mother’s heart is filled with earnest intentions.

This message immediately convinced Sheng Mingluo that it wasn’t spam or a scam.

Apart from her assistant and manager, no one else knew about her relationship with Qin Zhi. Sheng Mingluo had kept it remarkably discreet. If anyone else had found such a powerful patron, they would have flaunted it at every opportunity.

But her relationship with Qin Zhi wasn’t a typical sugar baby arrangement… This whole thing was just fanfiction!

She was pure and virtuous—how could she ever do something like that? Sheng Mingluo sighed at the decline of human morality. If she had a sugar daddy, would she still be struggling to land a lead role?

As expected, the day had come. The plot demanded it: the Qin Family would try to break them apart. Sheng Mingluo’s tears were worth ten million yuan—who wouldn’t want that? Could she take it?

The moment the thought crossed her mind, another part of her began to condemn her.

Sheng Mingluo, how could you stoop so low? If you take it, how will you ever go back?!

But it was ten million yuan!

Sheng Mingluo had never seen so much money in her life.

No, even if I got it, it’s just virtual currency. What good would it do? Immersing myself in a fictional world is just escapism.

Shaking her head to banish the ten million yuan from her thoughts, Sheng Mingluo opened her text message interface and replied with a brief message:

Auntie, hello. This is Sheng Mingluo… but I might be too busy lately. I’m filming a drama and I’m very sorry.