After the Agreement, the Aloof Movie Queen is Chasing Me All Over the Internet - Chapter 19

“A certain lady… has rather poor technique.”

Seduction.

A word that seemed tailor-made for Shen Qing.

If a ridiculous misunderstanding could be fashioned into a perfect fuse to lure the person she wanted to see back into her orbit, Shen Qing didn’t mind a few more misunderstandings.

It was a night of torrential rain. The tyres made a dull thud as they crushed the puddles, and the storm lashed against the car windows as if it had lost all control. The windscreen wipers worked frantically.

Du Yaozhi’s fingertips gripped the steering wheel tightly as she accelerated into the villa complex. She hadn’t expected the rain to turn so violent so quickly. When she left home, it had been a mere drizzle, but now it was a raging downpour, with rising water nearly submerging the roads.

Before the weather could get any worse, Yaozhi pulled into Shen Qing’s garage and cut the engine.

A familiar figure appeared at the top of the stairs. Shen Qing, holding a pair of unopened slippers, called out from a distance, “Is the rain bad? How are the roads?”

The garage lights were cool, casting a glow that made her look tall, elegant, and refined. Shen Qing had always been aloof, stingy with her words. Born into nobility, she was used to being passive, used to waiting for others to approach. Yet, her repeated attempts to initiate conversation these past few days were highly uncharacteristic.

Yaozhi’s brow furrowed, her emotions a tangled mess. “The roads were fine when I left. Now that the rain’s picked up, I’m not so sure.”

She slammed the car door with a bang, her long, dark curls swaying behind her ear.

Shen Qing gave a soft “mm,” peeled the plastic wrapping off the white slippers, and placed them by Yaozhi’s feet. This gesture felt even more alien. Yaozhi studied her, but Shen Qing simply met her gaze with a calm, unruffled expression.

Yaozhi was sharp; she quickly sensed something was off. She had only come to retrieve a book. Why was she stepping back into Shen Qing’s home? It felt far too much like a social visit.

Yaozhi crossed her arms. Instead of changing into the slippers, she took a slow, deliberate step forward in her high heels. A stray lock of hair partially obscured her eyes as she smiled. “And what kind of trap are you setting for me this time, Teacher?”

Shen Qing didn’t react. “You misunderstand me.”

“You said it yourself: the rain is heavy, and the road conditions are uncertain,” Shen Qing continued. “If I don’t invite you in, how do you expect to get home?”

There was no familiar cool fragrance on her; instead, the scent of shampoo wafted through the air, stirring the heart. It was a very leading way of speaking.

Yaozhi stared at her for a moment. “Stop pretending, Shen Qing.”

“I’m only here for the book, not to discuss our feelings. There’s no need for these games.” In the face of Shen Qing’s silence, Yaozhi pressed on: “I can apologize for the book, but business is business. I won’t find it so easy to trust you again. Don’t think that just because you handed me a bottle of water or a shawl, or spoke up for me to the press, that I’ll simply forgive you.”

Shen Qing listened quietly without immediate rebuttal. The warmth of the house seeped out, contrasting sharply with the damp, chilly air of the storm. Standing there, Shen Qing felt like a silent rain herself. She was dressed in a snow-white bathrobe, her dark hair clinging to her cheeks. As she swallowed, a droplet of water rolled down the curve of her neck.

Yaozhi was still fixated on that water droplet when Shen Qing suddenly spoke, her gaze pressing down. “Du Yaozhi.”

Yaozhi’s heart skipped a beat.

“I understand why you’re standing here, questioning my every word and move,” Shen Qing’s tone shifted. “But have you considered that if I truly wanted to ruin you, I wouldn’t need to do any of this?”

A cold sense of pressure settled over Yaozhi’s heart. She forced herself to look up and meet Shen Qing’s eyes, heightening the tension.

“I could have just continued to ignore you, as I have for the last six months. I could have demanded you be replaced on set. I could have lied to the media about your lack of professionalism. I have ten thousand ways to ensure you never get a role, to make it impossible for you to even breathe in this industry.”

“Compared to setting a trap… wouldn’t it be much easier just to destroy you?” Shen Qing stepped closer, inch by inch.

Yaozhi’s heart tightened; she grew even more guarded. But Shen Qing’s next words left her reeling.

Shen Qing stopped right in front of her. Her words were like ice picks, yet they were heartbreaking to hear. “But I didn’t.”

She was trying to apologize through her actions, through her words, even though she was also a victim in this mess, she was repeatedly pleading guilty to Yaozhi.

Yaozhi felt a sudden pang in her chest. She turned her head away, her eyes stinging. “What’s the use of saying all this now?”

What was the point of explanations now? What was the point of expressing lingering feelings? After six months of the silent treatment, what was the bloody point?!

“I don’t know if you’ve heard this saying, Teacher Shen,” Yaozhi said, her heart aching even as her words remained merciless. She forced a light, airy laugh. “They say a late display of deep affection is cheaper than dirt.”

After that biting remark, Shen Qing fell silent.

She had always been dignified; even the top directors in the industry wouldn’t dare speak to her that way. Only the person she loved most could. Yaozhi could hear her breathing a deep breath taken, then slowly released. It was quieter than the rain, yet it sounded incredibly heavy.

“Some things are not as simple as you think,” Shen Qing said, lowering her gaze and adjusting her breath. “But you can continue to hate me. I have no objection to that.”

She left the words hanging in the air and brushed past Yaozhi. No condescension, no further explanation.

Continue to hate her?

Yaozhi was stunned. More than that, she was bothered by Shen Qing’s remark: ‘Some things are not as simple as you think.’ Did something happen during those six months? Why did it feel like Shen Qing was suffering just as much as she was?

Yaozhi gripped her clothes, her mind a tangled web of uncertainty. She wasn’t easily fooled. She watched Shen Qing’s retreating back and decided to observe her a little longer.

Yaozhi kicked off her heels, placed them on the familiar rack, and slid into the disposable slippers. Shen Qing had been thoughtful in this regard, showing Yaozhi respect; she hadn’t brought out the slippers Yaozhi used to wear, forcing her back into the past. Instead, she had treated her like a guest, patiently inviting her in.

“Then, my thanks to Teacher Shen.” Yaozhi dropped the pleasantries, bypassed her ex, and walked straight into the first floor of the villa.

Returning to this old haunt, seeing the motion-sensor lights on the stairs flare up because of her, feeling the underfloor heating warm her soles… Yaozhi couldn’t quite describe the feeling. Everything remained exactly as it had been, as if the traces of her life there had been preserved.

Shen Qing hadn’t moved. During the time she had been cold to Yaozhi, she had rarely come home. Yaozhi had assumed Shen Qing loathed the place, loathed everything they had shared. When Shen Qing had sent the location earlier, it had taken Yaozhi a full three seconds to process the address.

This was the home they had shared. A secluded villa in the mountains; only six were built in this area, their value astronomical. Shen Qing had bought three of them, two just to house her cars and the gifts from brand sponsors.

The interior was a study in minimalist black and white, elegant yet cold. Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the storm raged. Inside, the house was silent, save for the greenery in white porcelain pots that gave the space a sense of life.

Back then, Yaozhi had complained that Shen Qing was unromantic, making their home feel so oppressive that she’d even left an empty fish tank in the living room. Every time Shen Qing sat there, Yaozhi felt a suffocating loneliness. So, she had bought ivy and small fish to liven it up. When she left in a hurry after the breakup, she hadn’t taken them with her.

Shen Qing hadn’t thrown them away. Yaozhi had expected her to have an assistant remove them long ago.

“Why are you just standing there?” Shen Qing interrupted her thoughts as she tossed the slipper packaging into the bin.

“You’ve changed the room fragrance.” Yaozhi, with her actress’s poise, casually steered the conversation toward the scent.

“It’s called ‘Burning Rose.’ A partner recommended it,” Shen Qing replied simply.

“It’s a nice scent,” Yaozhi nodded. It smelled a bit like her own hair mist.

Shen Qing turned to the control panel on the wall, adjusting the living room lights to a comfortable level. “Sit down first.”

Yaozhi tucked her skirt and sat on the sofa, glancing around. The furniture and decor were untouched, though the plants had grown thicker and more lush. Her gaze shifted elsewhere, her emotions stirring. “Where’s my fish tank?”

“I moved it to the motorhome,” Shen Qing said.

Yaozhi felt an inexplicable sense of relief. “Oh.”

So she really kept it…

Yaozhi had often wondered how Shen Qing was faring after the breakup. Part of her wanted to see Shen Qing fall apart, wanted her to suffer just as much, so they’d be even. But back in Shen Qing’s home, her hatred found nowhere to settle. The living room was still empty, just as it had been years ago.

Her ex had kept the plants and the fish, and had even switched to a fragrance similar to her hair mist. This was calculated. Yaozhi didn’t let her guard down completely.

A half-finished cup of tea sat on the coffee table, and a script lay open with neat annotations. Her scandalous novel was nowhere to be seen. Shen Qing wasn’t reading it. Then why did she record the sound of pages turning? Was it another trick?

Yaozhi crossed her long legs.

“I’ll brew a fresh pot of tea,” Shen Qing announced, reaching for some red dates from a high cupboard.

“No more wine?” Yaozhi tested her. She had once made a deal with Shen Qing: she would stop drinking if Shen Qing did the same.

“No more,” Shen Qing said.

She remembered all the promises they’d made. Yaozhi couldn’t figure her out—was Shen Qing trying to provoke her back?

“Don’t trouble yourself, Teacher Shen.” Yaozhi’s eyes flicked to the teapot on the table. “There’s still plenty in there. I’ll just have this. Once I have the book and the rain stops, I’ll be going.”

Coming from an ordinary background and having built her career from scratch, Yaozhi didn’t recognize the luxury status of the shawl, nor did she want to waste the tea. She reached for an empty cup and began to pour.

Suddenly, Shen Qing moved. Her long, slender fingers clamped around Yaozhi’s wrist. The touch was icy, sending a chill through her as Shen Qing gripped her firmly.

“You can’t.”

Shen Qing leaned over, one hand braced on the coffee table, effectively trapping Yaozhi between her and the sofa. This sudden proximity forced Yaozhi to look at her. Shen Qing’s bathrobe was loosely tied, revealing her collarbone and throat and a faint red mark on her neck that was hard to miss in the thinning air. It reminded Yaozhi of the times they had spent on this very sofa. Back then, Yaozhi would cling to her arm, nuzzling into her neck to catch her scent, while Shen Qing would kiss her collarbone, her long fingers moving slowly…

A crack of thunder jolted Yaozhi. Her heart raced, and she struggled as if struck by an electric shock. “You”

“No.” Shen Qing spoke coldly as she took the cup from Yaozhi’s hand. She slowly released her wrist and explained, “This tea is too ‘cold’ in nature. It’s bad for the stomach; it doesn’t suit you.”

Yaozhi bit her lip. “I don’t need you to worry about me, Teacher Shen.”

“Is that so?” Shen Qing set the cup aside and began brewing a new pot. “If I don’t worry about you, who else should I worry about?”

What does that mean? Coming from HER? Yaozhi’s brow furrowed. It would take her half the night to process a single offhand remark from Shen Qing. What is she playing at? Acting like a current girlfriend.

Yaozhi watched her resentfully. Shen Qing tucked her damp hair to one side, her profile deep and stunning, her skin pale as snow. Her dark eyes were downcast; even amidst the white steam of the tea, she looked ethereal. Even the simple act of brewing tea looked unreal when she did it. As her long lashes fluttered and she momentarily closed her eyes, she looked like someone stepping out of a film.

The only thing that wasn’t “divine” was her habit of air-drying her hair; the ends were always a bit damp after a bath. It reminded Yaozhi of the day she had doused herself in cold water. Back then, the icy water had rolled down her swan-like neck, turning the sensitive skin red as if in shame.

Just as Yaozhi was thinking that, Shen Qing finished the tea and brought it over. As she leaned down, the red mark on her neck became visible again. At this range, it was glaring. Yaozhi awkwardly looked away.

“What happened to your neck?” Yaozhi hesitated before pointing to the corresponding spot on her own neck. If the media caught sight of it, they’d likely link it back to the necklace incident. Better to show some concern and warn her now.

“Here?” Shen Qing straightened up and felt her neck. “It’s nothing.”

“See for yourself.” Yaozhi pulled a portable mirror from her bag and pushed it toward her. “It’s quite obvious up close.”

Shen Qing took the mirror and inspected it. “It does look a bit bad.”

“Is it serious?” Yaozhi asked.

“Not really. It should fade by tomorrow; it won’t affect my work. It’s just that… a certain lady has rather poor technique.” Shen Qing set the mirror down, her gaze lingering for a moment on Yaozhi’s beauty mark. “It hurt quite a bit.”

A trick she’d just learned from the book. Shen Qing wanted to try it out.

Yaozhi shot up from the sofa, scowling. “Shen Qing, who are you calling poor in technique?”

That was clearly a mark from the necklace. She had been so careful putting it on her ex; if she’d actually hurt her on purpose, what would the cameras have seen?

“What do you think, Miss Du?” Shen Qing replied as she placed a warm cup of tea in front of Yaozhi. She watched for her reaction.

It seems to have worked, Shen Qing thought.

Yaozhi picked up the tea. The steam had mostly subsided, and the cup was at a perfect temperature. She hesitated before taking a sip of the warm ginger and date tea. The liquid warmed her throat, leaving her momentarily speechless.

“I don’t think it has anything to do with me,” Yaozhi said, her eyes following the ginger floating in the cup. She took on a more vicious tone, her false affection sounding enchanting. “After all, I care for you deeply, Teacher Shen. I could never bear to hurt you.”

“So you care that much.” Shen Qing wanted to clarify something. The porcelain clicked against the glass table. “Won’t your ‘person’ be angry?”

“Again with this?” Yaozhi let out a cold laugh. “If I really had a ‘person,’ would I be meeting my ex in the middle of the night just to get back a misdelivered book? Would I tell her, ‘I want to see you, hurry up’? Am I mad?”

Every time Shen Qing spoke so ambiguously, Yaozhi was reminded of the past. Back then, Yaozhi was less mature, and Shen Qing, that wicked teacher, was always leading her into traps with her beautiful words and captivating looks. Yaozhi had fallen into so many traps that eventually, she started jumping into them herself. Back then, Yaozhi thought she should be proactive and shut her up. But now, Yaozhi felt like a cat with its tail stepped on, caught between pain and revenge.

Her ex was truly detestable.

Yaozhi looked up, her smile bright and innocent. “Teacher Shen, you really are interesting. You couldn’t possibly still have feelings for me… thinking I dumped you and immediately moved on to someone new, and feeling miserable about it?” Every word was a deliberate jab. Shen Qing had talked about caring and about letting Yaozhi hate her; Yaozhi wanted to see what she was really thinking.

Shen Qing took a sip of her tea once it had cooled.

“Nothing to say? Think I’m overthinking it?” Yaozhi provoked.

“No.” Having received a satisfying answer, Shen Qing’s expression remained unchanged. She blew on the steam, indulging Yaozhi’s boldness.

Yaozhi was a woman of action. She leaned back on the sofa. “Then give me my book back. Give me After Dumping My Older Ex-Wife, She’s Obsessed and Flirty.”

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