After the Agreement, the Aloof Movie Queen is Chasing Me All Over the Internet - Chapter 53

They say that to love someone is to savor their kiss.

However, Du Yaozhi clearly didn’t give Shen Qing a moment to breathe, let alone a chance to savor anything.

Her kiss was predatory, a literal tearing at the other woman. She pressed against Shen Qing’s thin lips, stealing every wisp of air, grinding a raw, savage desire into the contact.

From the corners of her mouth to the hollow of her neck.

From heavy breaths to the brink of suffocation.

It hurt. It hurt intensely.

Shen Qing’s hand pressed against the crown of Yaozhi’s head, ruffling her hair in a gentle attempt to stop her. Yaozhi gave a cold huff, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and bolted.

Leaning against the wall, Shen Qing tilted her head and met the gaze of her assistant standing nearby.

“Get the makeup artist. I need a touch-up,” she said, suppressing her ragged breathing and handling the situation with her usual composure.

Shen Qing’s makeup took a long time to fix. Yaozhi, meanwhile, had simply reapplied her lipstick.

When they stepped back in front of the camera, Yaozhi shot a glance at Shen Qing. Still acting all cool and detached, I see. She looked away and forced herself into character.

The shoot ended on a sour note, yet the results were unexpectedly brilliant. Shen Qing’s eyes held a natural, watery sheen, the corners flushed red; even her lips looked perfectly “in character.” When Yaozhi kissed her, the veins in Shen Qing’s neck pulsed against her jawline, and despite her restraint, her breathing hitched sharply during the exchange.

The scene felt incredibly real.

Director Chen sat behind the monitor. “That’s a wrap on this take. You two finally found your groove. Not easy, was it?”

Yaozhi curled her lip into a smirk. “Thank you, Director.”

As evening fell, the crew gathered for a meal, but Yaozhi was the first to leave, her pace so fast it practically whipped up a breeze.

“Oh, Teacher Du, aren’t you staying for a bit? Today is Shen” Xiao Yu started to say.

“No, I’ve got things to do.” Yaozhi had no interest in the evening’s festivities. She picked up the kitten, thanked Xiao Yu, and headed out.

The kitten wouldn’t be sleeping in the motorhome tonight. That space was filled with the snacks she’d given up for Shen Qing, the bed she’d made for her, and the lingering traces of their life together over the past few days.

The thought of those things made her feel wronged. She didn’t want to be trapped in a confined space with Shen Qing, let alone share a bed. Fortunately, the production hotel was pet-friendly, so she could take the kitten with her.

“Yue-yue, let’s go,” Yaozhi called out to Zhou Yue abruptly.

Zhou Yue had brought some beers back that evening. She held a can in her palms, trying to warm it up. “I completely forgot your stomach is sensitive. I shouldn’t have grabbed these from the freezer in this weather.”

In truth, Yaozhi was also alcohol-intolerant. Seeing Zhou Yue shivering, she took the beer and stared at the ring pull, lost in thought. Forget it, she thought. With my constitution, drinking this will just end in a stomach ache and a messy hangover. Not good for filming.

“I thought you two were starting over as friends? Why do you seem so unhappy today?” Zhou Yue leaned in, prodding the tin can and testing the waters cautiously.

“Friends? More like ‘kiss-buddies,'” Yaozhi replied, her fingertips turning red from the freezing metal. She didn’t care; she kept fiddling with the can until she’d squeezed several deep dents into it.

“Kiss… buddies?”

Yaozhi gave a cold laugh. “Like ‘friends with benefits,’ but for kissing. Disposable. Once they’ve had their fun, they turn their back on you and treat you however they like.”

“How can she be like that?” Zhou Yue, having finished one can after another, slammed her hand on the table, her face flushed with indignation. “Tell me! What did she do? I’ll settle the score for you today!”

“I can’t say. Nothing good, anyway,” Yaozhi mumbled, her toe inadvertently kicking the bin.

Leaving for no reason in the morning, ignoring me at noon, looking at me like ice in the afternoon. She promised me she wouldn’t play games tonight, yet she clearly didn’t take it to heart!

The plastic bin rolled across the floor, the hollow clatter only adding fuel to her frustration. Yaozhi bent down, scooped up the empty bottles, and shoved them into a bag with a huff.

“The heating in here is suffocating,” she grumbled, tugging at her collar. She grabbed the rubbish bag. “I’m going downstairs to bin this.”

The biting wind outside the hotel was sharp, stinging her cheeks. Her nose turned red instantly, and her breath puffed out in white clouds. Her eyes welled up with a physiological moisture.

Damn it. Why didn’t I put more layers on? Shen Qing had truly driven her mad. Shivering, she gripped the bag tight.

The surroundings grew quiet. The cold was beginning to numb her fingers. Suddenly, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. A group of people appeared in the distance. Shen Qing was among them, wearing a blue scarf and a mask, leaving only those cool, stunning eyes visible. Even so, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

Of course I’d run into her while out for air, Yaozhi thought bitterly.

Shen Qing seemed to be chatting and laughing with the crew. Having a grand old time at the event, are we? While I’ve been miserable all day.

Yaozhi watched the group, her eyes dark. She let out a silent, cold laugh.

Fine. You want to act? Two can play at that game.

It was perfect timing—her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and she had a bag full of “props.” She took a deep breath, instantly switching into a state of drunken confusion. Her footsteps became unsteady. She swung the rubbish bag with an exaggerated flourish, and it landed in the bin with a loud thud.

The sound drew the attention of the group.

“Teacher Du?” someone recognized her.

“Hmm?” Yaozhi looked at them as if she’d only just noticed their presence. Her eyes were blurry as she focused on Shen Qing, her voice a lazy, drunken drawl. “Has anyone seen Teacher Shen?”

“Ah, there she is. Having fun, are we? Chatting the night away?”

She tilted her head, her gaze locked on the figure in the blue scarf, a smirk playing on her red lips. She swayed, looking thoroughly inebriated.

In reality, Shen Qing hadn’t been talking to anyone. She was wrapped up so tightly that neither her mouth nor her neck was visible. But the onlookers were already looking surprised.

Shen Qing immediately shot a look at Jing Ping. Jing Ping, initially stunned, caught on instantly. She quickly pivoted to lead the group away. “This way, everyone. Shall we head back to the hotel?”

Once the crowd had gone, Yaozhi continued to stare Shen Qing down. She committed to the act, occasionally pretending to gag as if she were about to be sick.

Seeing her like this, Shen Qing knit her brows. The motorhome had been empty when she looked—no Yaozhi, no kitten. The dark interior had been clean and tidy, but hollow. She’d been searching for Yaozhi for ages, only to find her supposedly wasted and running around in the freezing wind.

Shen Qing scanned her up and down. Yaozhi was wearing far too little, and her collar was a mess.

“Let’s stop this, shall we?” Shen Qing said, lightly catching Yaozhi’s wrist. “I’ll take you back.”

“Go back to your little party,” Yaozhi snapped, slapping Shen Qing’s hand away. The force of the contact stung her own knuckles.

Hah. Who’s making a scene? I’m just acting.

Yaozhi lifted her cold-reddened face, a smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth. She arrogantly shook off Shen Qing’s hand and turned to walk away, deliberately maintaining her wobbly, drunken gait.

I hope you’re worried sick, she thought.

The next morning.

Shen Qing seemed to be “worried sick” or perhaps just furious, as she hadn’t said a word. But Yaozhi wasn’t exactly feeling better either. They were bound to run into each other eventually.

On her way to find Zhou Yue this morning, Yaozhi crossed paths with Shen Qing, who was heading out for filming. It was the ultimate “enemies on a narrow path” scenario.

Voices drifted from the corridor, partially muffled by the hotel’s soundproofing. It sounded like Jing Ping.

“Is it going to affect the shoot?”

“It won’t.”

“Are you sure? Your lip is swollen, right here.” Jing Ping pointed.

“It’s fine,” Shen Qing replied.

Zhou Yue, who had sobered up and was eavesdropping from a corner, whispered to Yaozhi, “Did you bite her?”

Yaozhi turned away. “She’s faking it.” I didn’t bite her that hard.

“Oh. Then she’s being a bit much,” Zhou Yue agreed, pricking up her ears again. The two voices in the hallway were distinct and easy to recognise.

“And your foot? How is it?”

“Just bruising. The pain is manageable.”

Zhou Yue was confused. “Did you stomp on her in heels?” That would be lethal.

“They were the shoes for the scene. Block heels,” Yaozhi clarified.

Block heels had a larger surface area and distributed pressure evenly. They were far less damaging than stilettos. There was no way it caused that much damage. Zhou Yue nodded slowly; that seemed logical.

More movement came from the corridor. They were getting closer. Jing Ping’s voice sounded increasingly urgent, as if Shen Qing were a “soft touch” who refused to stand up for herself.

“And how do you explain your neck?! Shen Qing, for heaven’s sake! Are you just going to let people bully you like this? How much concealer is this going to take?!”

Zhou Yue couldn’t help herself; she nudged Yaozhi with her elbow. “The neck too?”

Yaozhi couldn’t argue with that one, but Shen Qing had asked for it. She let out a cold snort. “I did give her a bit of a nip there.”

The sound of footsteps and voices grew clearer, grinding through the silence of the corridor. Jing Ping’s raised tone was unmistakable. They were right outside.

“Wait, they’re coming.”

Yaozhi quickly pulled Zhou Yue into the room, peeking through the crack in the door. The gap was only wide enough for a single line of sight. Both held their breath, fingers unconsciously digging into the wood.

Shen Qing’s black hair fell over her shoulders, but it didn’t hide her stunning features. Her lips were indeed slightly swollen, and the skin on her neck looked thin and pale. As she walked past, a startling patch of red on her neck flashed through their field of vision.

It was so close and so vivid that Zhou Yue jumped, unable to stop herself from blabbing: “Cripes! You bit her so many times it looks like the Seven Stars of the Big Dipper!”

Seven Stars?! Panicked that they’d be caught, Yaozhi slammed her hand over Zhou Yue’s mouth. The door shut with a bang.

Once Zhou Yue had caught her breath, she looked at Yaozhi. “You two are in this state?”

“Apparently so.” Yaozhi was full of sarcasm. “And in this ‘state,’ I still have to celebrate her birthday today.”

She gestured toward the fridge. Since it wasn’t convenient to look inside just then, she described it. “It’s Shen Qing’s birthday. Since she doesn’t like sweets, I got up early specifically to make her a sugar-free cake.”

Yaozhi assumed Shen Qing liked the flavour of those little sponge cakes, so she’d made a pumpkin purée chiffon cake. She couldn’t find an electric whisk near the hotel, so she’d spent half the night beating egg whites by hand. She didn’t have arms of steel; her arm had cramped up, but she’d managed it.

“I’ve no idea how to give it to her,” she muttered to herself.

Shen Qing had been gone for a while. Yaozhi checked her watch; it was about time she headed over herself. She liked to be on set early. She checked the corridor, saw it was empty, and stepped out.

She walked down the hall, thinking, Whatever. I’ll just find someone on the crew to give it to her. She really didn’t want to deal with Shen Qing personally.

“Wait,” Zhou Yue called out, catching up. “Celebrate… her birthday?”

Wasn’t Shen Qing’s birthday yesterday? Everyone on the set knew; they’d even had a group dinner.

Zhou Yue suddenly realized something terrifying. The call sheets never listed dates, and when Yaozhi was “studying her script” at night, she certainly wasn’t checking her phone for the date!

“Zhizhi… did you… forget what day her birthday was?” Zhou Yue’s voice trembled slightly.

“I didn’t forget. 9th December.”

Yaozhi kept her hands in her coat pockets as she strode toward the lifts. “Four days after the kissing scene. I specifically checked the date the day we filmed. How could I get it wrong?”

The air froze instantly. Even the sound of the air conditioning became deafening. Zhou Yue stared at Yaozhi’s straight back and swallowed hard. Yaozhi looked perfectly calm, her coat swaying slightly in the warm air of the corridor, her stride efficient.

She had absolutely no idea.

Zhou Yue cautiously spoke up. “Is there a chance… that your kissing scene was pushed back by a day?”

Wait.

Yaozhi’s foot slipped slightly. She turned around, her eyes wide.

That’s right. Wasn’t the kissing scene delayed by a day?

The warm air from the vents continued to blow, but it couldn’t shift the sudden, icy stillness. The soft light from the wall lamps cast two rigid shadows onto the floor.

As it dawned on her that she had indeed got the date wrong—that she’d missed Shen Qing’s birthday, misunderstood her entirely, and then behaved so atrociously, Yaozhi went numb.

A cold chill raced from her feet to the top of her head. She’d been too confident, too buried in her work, and had completely lost track. Remembering Shen Qing’s appearance this morning, a wave of overwhelming shame washed over her.

Zhou Yue tried to reconstruct the timeline. “So, it wasn’t that she was ignoring you or trying to annoy you. It’s that you gave her the cold shoulder for an entire day?”

“I wanted to find her at lunch,” Yaozhi stammered. “But she just walked away with the food and the cake. I thought she didn’t want to see me.”

Zhou Yue thought for a moment. “Didn’t you say Shen Qing doesn’t like sweets? Is it possible the cake was for you? What were you doing at the time? Was someone with you?”

Yaozhi’s heart sank. Someone was indeed with me, wasn’t Gu Rong’er right there?!

And Gu Rong’er had said she wanted to be close to her… wasn’t she Shen Qing’s rival?!

Yaozhi gripped the fabric of her coat pockets, her composure crumbling. She suddenly remembered how hard she’d bitten her last night, and her cheeks burned.

So, the “wicked” Du Yaozhi had not only dragged Shen Qing out of bed on her birthday for a kiss…

In the morning, she’d basically shoved a gift from her rival in Shen Qing’s face to provoke her.

At lunch, while Shen Qing was happily bringing her cake, a cold and distant Yaozhi hadn’t given her a second glance, turning instead to chat with her rival.

In the afternoon, while teaching that rival to act, she’d carelessly worn the rival’s red string—the very token she and Shen Qing had once shared as a sign of their love.

And then, in the evening, she’d… bullied her like that.

She’d even bullied a “Seven Stars of the Big Dipper” pattern onto her neck!

Yaozhi wanted to cry. She paced frantically in front of the lift. And she still hadn’t accounted for her fake-drunken scene in the middle of the night.

Where on earth do I even begin to make this up to her?

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