A Top-Tier Green Tea Actress Enters a Dating Reality Show - Chapter 67

The entire morning, Meng Ziqing, Qin Yue, and the other reality show guests spent time re-shooting scenes needed for post-production.

After Wen Siliang left, many loose ends remained, and the production team couldn’t pause the live stream for too long. They had no choice but to work overtime, rushing through various reshoots—all to ensure a coherent edit and a proper conclusion.

Having been cornered and defeated that morning, Su An’an was seething. During breaks in filming, her eyes repeatedly darted coldly towards Meng Ziqing and Qin Yue. She was clearly determined to stir up some trouble.

“An’an, why don’t you give up?”

Jian Weilin, standing beside her, tugged at her worriedly, but failed to pull her away.

“No way. Meng Ziqing is too much of a bully. I won’t accept this.”

Seeing her reaction, Jian Weilin sighed, giving a helpless glance at Su An’an, who was preparing to go over and inquire about the plaster again. He gave up on persuading her.

Su An’an was stubborn. She wouldn’t give up until she hit a brick wall and cried. This was just like in college.

When they both competed for the National Scholarship, she didn’t have Meng Ziqing’s academic brilliance, so she compensated by putting in exponentially more time and effort. She had her own pride, even a certain arrogance rooted in her superior self-discipline. That’s why they had such a dramatic falling out when they graduated. Even two years later, meeting again on the dating show, neither would back down, maintaining a mutual, unyielding standoff.

Su An’an shifted, ready to approach Meng Ziqing and Qin Yue. But before she could move, she froze as she looked at Meng Ziqing’s hands.

“Heh heh…”

Realizing what she saw, Su An’an let out a sarcastic chuckle. “What a quick reaction,” she sneered.

Jian Weilin’s thoughts returned. Following Su An’an’s gaze, he understood. “She put on gloves. The plaster is covered.”

Tibet is a high-altitude area; it’s cold in the morning, hot at noon, and the UV rays are intense, especially in summer. Girls who care about their appearance are very mindful of sun protection. Meng Ziqing was no exception. She hadn’t brought a single short-sleeved shirt on this trip, only thin long-sleeves and windbreakers.

Meng Ziqing usually didn’t wear clothes like tactical jackets. They were too different from her usual elegant dresses. However, the combination of a tactical jacket, sweatpants, and high-top sneakers surprisingly suited her.

What frustrated Su An’an wasn’t the clothes, but the fact that she had seen Meng Ziqing wearing a medical plaster on her hand just fifteen minutes ago. Now, Meng Ziqing had actually put on gloves! She was wearing gloves!

Su An’an had no grounds to pick a fight, because if she went over, Meng Ziqing would just dismiss her with a “you must have misseen it,” maybe even adding a couple of mocking remarks.

Su An’an’s face darkened, and she felt a knot of frustration.

“You can’t go over now,” Jian Weilin said.

“Hmph…”

Taking advantage of the camera not filming them, Su An’an rolled her eyes in a less-than-elegant manner. The sight of those gloves irritated her more and more.

Meng Ziqing was wearing half-finger gloves made of a linen-like material, which she had likely just requested from a cameraman. Given the high UV, the camera crew needed sun protection too and would have a couple of pairs of easy-to-move, half-finger gloves on hand.

The gloves looked unremarkable on a cameraman, just a tool for sun protection. But on Meng Ziqing, paired with her appropriate outfit, they added a touch of handsomeness. Though slightly dramatic, they set off her fair, slender fingers. Her fingertips were round and neat, without any nail polish, making them unexpectedly clean and beautiful.

Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, revealing her beautiful forehead. The cool, detached look in her eyes was more pronounced. Her every gesture was calm and composed. The two distinctly different temperaments—cool elegance and spirited handsomeness—blended in her to create a unique ‘big sister’ aura, giving people a sense of confident security.

Su An’an was annoyed just looking at her.

According to Jian Weilin, Meng Ziqing now resembled Qin Yue a bit. The playful, reckless air hidden beneath her elegant temperament had been largely replaced by a gentle steadfastness, making her seem more grounded. She was no longer fleeting or elusive like the wind.

Meng Ziqing was currently leaning languidly on Qin Yue, who would occasionally stroke Meng Ziqing’s head gently. The two were chatting softly; they weren’t far, but their conversation couldn’t be overheard, and Su An’an wasn’t interested in listening anyway.

However, the sight of the two acting like an intimate, inseparable couple was truly an eyesore. I’ve been thoroughly tormented and cornered by the Green Tea, only to turn around and see her enjoying success in both love and career. I’d rather die than feel this miserable.

“Why wear gloves? If you dare, show off that plaster on your hand!” Su An’an inwardly rolled her eyes.

Meng Ziqing, who was in the distance complaining to Qin Yue about staying up too late the night before, heard Su An’an’s thought. Her eyes subtly flickered, and she leaned into Qin Yue even more languidly.

She whined and sweetly complained, “Sister, my hands are so sore. You have to help me rub them.”

That wasn’t enough; she rubbed against Qin Yue’s arm like a cat. From an outsider’s perspective, the two were almost fused together—a pair of deeply-in-love, clingy young lovers who didn’t care they were in public.

Meng Ziqing’s voice during the spoiled complaint wasn’t sickly sweet; it was clear, crisp, and transmitted perfectly to Su An’an’s ears nearby.

Su An’an twitched her ear, then turned her head away with obvious distaste. She pulled Jian Weilin along. “Let’s go. We shouldn’t stay here. It’s bad luck.”

She urged, “Go, go, go…”

“Hey, An’an, slow down.” Jian Weilin’s ear tips were slightly red, but he didn’t let go of Su An’an’s hand.

Couples are so annoying!!

A familiar voice of annoyance reached her mind. Meng Ziqing, whose hand was being massaged by Qin Yue, lazily lifted her eyelids and glanced towards Su An’an. Her attention fell on Su An’an and Jian Weilin’s interlocked hands, and she raised an eyebrow in a knowing, unsurprised way.

Couples are annoying, you say?

“Everyone, let’s move on to the next scene.”

A staff member from the dating show called out. After a break of less than five minutes, during which they confirmed the footage was usable, they immediately resumed shooting the next scene.

“Oh, coming.”

Meng Ziqing retracted her gaze and followed Qin Yue to continue filming the next required shots.

“Phew—I’m exhausted.”

After a busy morning, a hurried lunch, and finally returning to their room, Meng Ziqing went straight for the bed the moment she entered the room.

Her dark hair scattered as she moved, burying her small head. Meng Ziqing was completely enveloped by the bedding, her slender waist under the oversized clothes almost folded. She couldn’t seem to get up. She was too tired to move.

She felt like every bone in her body was about to fall apart. She was uncomfortable everywhere. Even though Qin Yue had massaged her, her wrists and arms were still aching and stiff.

Her hair had been tied up by Qin Yue that morning.

“Are you still tired?”

A little later, Qin Yue also got onto the bed. She naturally continued to massage Meng Ziqing’s arms and shoulders. The live stream was starting soon, and she couldn’t afford to be as sluggish as she was in the morning.

“Yes, I’m tired. Being the ‘top’ is exhausting, wife,” Meng Ziqing cried softly as she lay flat. She turned over, revealing her head. Dark hair clung to her pale cheeks, and her pure black, clear eyes held a watery, aggrieved look, like a pitiful kitten lying on its back, ready to be pet.

“I said let me take over the second half, but you insisted on doing it,” Qin Yue said, laughing exasperatedly.

“It was exhausting, but—”

Meng Ziqing’s vacant mind unconsciously drifted. Remembering Qin Yue’s tear-filled eyes, her skin flushed pink under the moonlight, and her passionate reciprocation during the climax, Meng Ziqing smacked her lips. Her face reddened as she hugged the pillow and evaluated, “It was actually quite good.”

“Yes, a great experience,” Meng Ziqing nodded. “It would just be better if it were a little shorter.”

“Is that so?”

Meng Ziqing nodded. “Yes…”

“Then should we do it again right now?” Qin Yue immediately asked, seizing the opportunity. She licked her pink lips, a hint of expectation in her eyes.

“Just once, a quick one, okay?”

Qin Yue held Meng Ziqing’s hand and pressed her down, overshadowing her. In the fragmented sunlight, her sapphire blue eyes watched Meng Ziqing with a playful glint. Her cool, refined features were soft, like melting snow on a mountain, and her slightly swollen thin lips looked especially sexy. She resembled a siren from the deep sea, using her cold, wicked beauty to lure people into the unknown realm shrouded in sea fog.

Meng Ziqing’s breath hitched. Her head swam for half a second from Qin Yue’s sudden assault of beauty.

She then shook her head rapidly like a rattle drum, creating blurs on her already thin face. “No, no, no! Let’s not!”

Meng Ziqing scrambled back several steps, tumbling away from Qin Yue’s shadow.

She sat up, clutching her rapidly beating heart, and said with determination, “Sister, I think we should forget about it in broad daylight.”

“Just once…” Qin Yue frowned.

“Public indecency is inappropriate,” Meng Ziqing flatly refused. Remembering something, she quickly grabbed Qin Yue’s hand and added, “Besides, Sister, you know we’re going to some wonderful places during this trip. The days are already tiring enough. We should properly rest at night.”

“Right?” Meng Ziqing cautiously asked. A hint of nervousness was visible in her pure black, clear eyes, as if the slightest movement around her could make her jump up anxiously.

“Mmm—” Qin Yue drew out the sound as she pondered, though a flash of resignation crossed her expression. She knew she had a bit of a problem, but she couldn’t control it.

“However, sometimes, certain thoughts can’t be controlled.”

After careful consideration, Qin Yue expressed her stance using slightly softer language.

“Oh? How so?” Meng Ziqing raised her eyelids and asked.

“How so?” Qin Yue was a bit surprised. She hesitated. “Baby, are you sure you want me to explain?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Facing Qin Yue’s deepening gaze, Meng Ziqing still nodded. She didn’t know why, but her subconscious told her that avoiding this question was the best choice. This topic Qin Yue brought up was not suitable for deep discussion. It had the potential to open a new, dark door for her. If they continued, Qin Yue’s outwardly cold and gentle facade would be completely shredded.

But Meng Ziqing was rebellious.

Or perhaps, Meng Ziqing knew that Qin Yue seemed… a little twisted.

Maybe more than a little.

“Meng Ziqing, sometimes, thoughts cannot be controlled,” Qin Yue said to Meng Ziqing with a smile. She used her full name, but her eyes were deep and thick with affection, like blue honey.

Blue honey—it looked bizarre and strange, without any appetite appeal.

It was a little twisted.

“For example?” Meng Ziqing leaned quietly against the headboard, meeting her gaze and waiting for her to continue.

“For example, my childhood experiences constantly remind me that when I encounter something I love, I must firmly hold it in my hand,” Qin Yue said faintly.

She raised her long, slender fingers and made a tearing motion. “If I don’t have the ability to protect it well, it’s okay to destroy it. If it’s destroyed and becomes something no one else is interested in, then it’s still only mine.”

Qin Yue tilted her head and smiled at Meng Ziqing. “Don’t you agree?”

“Perhaps…” Meng Ziqing pressed her tongue against her teeth, suppressing the strange feeling surging up inside her, and asked, “Then what about the person you love?”

“What do you plan to do?”

“You can destroy things you love because you love them too much. What will you do to me?”

Even as Meng Ziqing asked, she already had the answer in her mind. In her eyes, Qin Yue’s current image began to subtly merge with the image of ‘Little Qin Yue.’ Though, that wasn’t quite right. Qin Yue was the grown-up Little Qin Yue. They were inherently the same person.

“I might just feel compelled to do something more extreme,” Qin Yue shrugged, without any psychological burden. “But you don’t need to worry; I can still hold back for now.”

“Hold back what?” Meng Ziqing leaned in and looked at her.

Qin Yue was naturally taller than Meng Ziqing. From her current angle, she could slightly lean down towards Meng Ziqing. In this position, Qin Yue always felt a strange sense of satisfaction. Because with a simple embrace, she could easily confine Meng Ziqing in her arms.

“I can hold back a lot.”

Qin Yue lovingly raised her hand and slowly smoothed Meng Ziqing’s slightly messy hair. The soft, smooth sensation satisfied her, and she curved her eyes. “Just like now, I can hold back from mounting you.”

“At night when we are alone, I can hold back from locking you in the room and watching you cry in fear.”

“When we eat, I can hold back from feeding you, from making you sit on my lap like a child, waiting for me to feed you.”

“I’ve restrained many thoughts,” Qin Yue’s fingers traced Meng Ziqing’s face.

“I hold back from taking you to get a tattoo, from tattooing my name on your inner thigh; I hold back from controlling your every movement and need, from treating you like a porcelain doll; I hold back from placing hickeys where clothing doesn’t cover; I hold back from constantly reviewing information about you; I hold back from 24-hour surveillance…”

“I hold back from marking you like a dog marking its territory, constantly reminding myself that you have personal independence,” Qin Yue met Meng Ziqing’s gaze, voicing her true inner thoughts for the first time.

“Meng Ziqing, I truly can hold back a lot. More than you can imagine.”

The cold, clear female voice slightly echoed in the room, faint but carrying a hint of sickness that etched itself into the listener’s heart and lingered.

Qin Yue’s eyes were smiling, but her heart was racing. Her hands underneath the blanket were silently clenched into fists, trembling slightly.

She was afraid… afraid that Meng Ziqing would fear her.

But after hearing this, Meng Ziqing was not as frightened or flustered as Qin Yue had imagined. Instead, she was very calm.

She was so calm that she even reached out and gently stroked Qin Yue’s head in a comforting gesture, giving her a light pat—like a cat petting a large dog.

She… isn’t afraid?

In Qin Yue’s stunned moment, she vaguely heard Meng Ziqing say, “Sister, so good.”

She was hugged and comforted by Meng Ziqing.

“Don’t be afraid. I love you.”

Qin Yue hugged her back somewhat numbly, pursed her lips for a moment, and replied, “Thank you?”

The CP System had never told Qin Yue that Meng Ziqing could read minds.

In other words, Meng Ziqing had always known—Qin Yue was a little unwell. With the illness of a yandere.

Yet, she had always been so good and admirable, always trying so hard to be a normal person. She had consistently loved Meng Ziqing with intense and fervent passion, in the manner of a normal person. It was devout and unwavering.

This allowed the love-starved Meng Ziqing to clearly feel that someone loved her.

And they loved her in a way that didn’t make her uncomfortable—not the forced imposition of affection, but a sincere and pure love.

That’s why Meng Ziqing said—

Sister, so good.