After The Forced Marriage, I Ended Up With The Top Celebrity - Chapter 34

Qing Jiuyan’s apartment had a simple layout.
Its color palette was mainly black, white, and gray.
Most of the furniture were square, sharp edged pieces all clean lines and precision.

The apartment had excellent lighting: sunlight streamed through the black framed floor to ceiling windows, landing on the ash-gray sofa in the living room.
The cream colored curtains on both sides were tied back with identical cords even the knots were perfectly symmetrical.

Meticulous to the point of excess.

Qiao Jinyan glanced around the small but tidy apartment, and then thought of her own villa.

It was hard to believe that the owner of this modest apartment was the granddaughter of Zhao Yingsong, the biggest investor in the entire entertainment industry.

Rigorous. Low profile.

That was Qiao Jinyan’s first impression of Qing Jiuyan.

“Miss Qiao, please have a seat I’ll bring you some water,”
said the housekeeper, Aunt Liu, smiling as she led Qiao Jinyan to the sofa.

Qiao Jinyan crossed her legs elegantly, her black wavy hair cascading over her chest, and quietly studied the woman across the coffee table.

Qing Jiuyan sat perfectly straight, her back upright, her hips barely occupying a third of the sofa’s edge.
She wore a chiffon striped blouse; the soft fabric traced her model like figure thin yet strong.
Her chiffon trousers fell smoothly, without a single wrinkle, perfectly emphasizing her long, slender legs.

She was thin, yes but not lacking where it mattered.
A figure any woman would envy.

Of course, Qiao Jinyan didn’t envy her.
She believed she was far more beautiful.
The only woman she’d ever admit was close to her level was Luo Nianshu and even that was a reluctant admission.

Her gaze moved upward, studying Qing Jiuyan’s face.

They had similar facial bone structures especially the nose and lips.

And yet, their faces were completely different.

Qing Jiuyan’s features were cold, as though covered in a thin layer of frost.
Her hair was jet black and straight; her lips pressed into a fine line.
Though she was young and her demeanor still carried a touch of greenness, she emanated an invisible pressure.

Two women
one alluring, the other cool;
one arrogant, the other restrained.

Qiao Jinyan couldn’t help but chuckle silently.
How could anyone think the two of us look alike?

“Miss Qiao,” Qing Jiuyan spoke, her tone flat, “what did you come here for?”

But Qiao Jinyan wasn’t at all intimidated by her aura. She smiled sweetly, almost coquettishly.
“I’ve hit a little trouble in the industry, so I came to ask my dear sister for a favor.”

Qing Jiuyan gave a short, derisive laugh.
“Miss Qiao, I know exactly what kind of person you are. You don’t have to pretend in front of me.”

At that, Qiao Jinyan’s smile froze. Her lashes flickered twice, and then she leaned lazily back into the sofa.

In an instant, her delicate charm vanished replaced by her usual arrogance and haughtiness.
“Well, since you put it that way, let’s be honest with each other.”

Aunt Liu entered with a teapot, only to find the two women sitting there like opposing forces of nature — ice and fire.
Her hand trembled slightly as she poured, and she quickly excused herself once done.

Qing Jiuyan lifted her teacup, blowing gently on the steam as she listened to Qiao Jinyan explain her predicament.
When Qiao finished, Qing took a sip and said calmly,
“Zhang Weiyin may be hateful, but why should I offend someone that powerful for your sake?”

Qiao Jinyan’s fox-like eyes glinted.
“Because you like Tang Fu, don’t you? Once I marry Luo Nianshu, you’ll be free to openly pair up with Tang Fu for publicity.”

At those words, Qing Jiuyan’s expression didn’t change only her fingers on her lap curled slightly.

Her slender face lifted, calm and poised.
“You believe the online rumors too?”

“At times like this, I have to believe them.”
Qiao Jinyan’s smile grew more enchanting.

Qing Jiuyan’s tone chilled.
“You’re mistaken. She’s just a mountain I intend to surpass one day.
Between us, there’s nothing but professional rivalry.”

“No relationship at all?” Qiao Jinyan frowned. Her private investigator’s report shouldn’t have been wrong.

“None.”

Just then, Aunt Liu knocked at the door.
“Miss Qing, Miss Tang is here.”

Qing Jiuyan: “…”
Qiao Jinyan: “…”

Tang Fu walked in.

She wore a cinched waist, ink colored gown; her movements were graceful and fluid, the skirt hem swaying like rippling water.

As soon as she entered, Tang Fu saw Qiao Jinyan sitting on the sofa and blinked in surprise.

“Senior? What are you doing here?”

Ignored, Qing Jiuyan pressed her lips together and took another sip of tea.

It was bitter tea kudingcha the kind meant to sharpen the senses.
The moment it touched her tongue, a sharp bitterness spread across her taste buds.

“Just discussing some script matters with Miss Qing.”

Qiao Jinyan smiled awkwardly, but inside she was secretly delighted perhaps things were turning in her favor.
She quickly asked, “And you? What brings you here?”

“Coincidentally, the same. I came to discuss a script with Miss Qing.”

Tang Fu smiled, her tone soft enough to melt honey.

“Just discussing the script?”

A flicker of disappointment and resentment crossed Qiao Jinyan’s heart.

“Mhm,” Tang Fu replied, glancing briefly at Qing Jiuyan.
“Miss Qing’s new in the industry. Things have been a bit rough for her, so I came to help rehearse some scenes together.”

Rough in her career?

Qiao Jinyan almost laughed. Guess Tang Fu doesn’t know Miss Qing is Zhao Yingsong’s granddaughter.

“What scene are you rehearsing?” she asked casually.

“Bed scene,”
Qing Jiuyan said coldly, her gaze locked on the tender smile Tang Fu had just given Qiao Jinyan.

Qiao Jinyan: “…”
Tang Fu: “…” Wait it’s not what you think!

Sensing the sudden tension, Qiao Jinyan wisely grabbed her purse and stood up.
“I’ll leave you two to your rehearsal, then. I’m done here.”

She paused, turning to Qing Jiuyan, her eyes flickering.
“Miss Qing, I’ll leave it in your hands.”

“Don’t bother. It’s not happening.”

The rejection was crisp and final.

Qiao Jinyan’s eyes dimmed briefly, but she quickly lifted her chin, flashing a radiant smile.
“No need to be so harsh please, think it over.”

She walked toward the door, heels clicking confidently.

As she passed Tang Fu, Tang Fu suddenly reached out and grabbed her hand.

All three women froze.

Realizing her mistake, Tang Fu quickly let go pretending instead to be straightening the corner of Qiao’s purse.

“Happy birthday, Senior.”
Tang Fu smiled softly.

Qiao Jinyan froze.

She hadn’t expected Tang Fu to remember her birthday.

Feeling the sharp, blade-like gaze burning into Tang Fu’s hand from behind, Qiao Jinyan suddenly got an idea.

She turned back with a charming smile.
“Thank you, dear. You must come visit me sometime.”

The murderous air behind her thickened, and Qiao Jinyan left in an exceptionally good mood.

The door shut with a thud.

Only Tang Fu and Qing Jiuyan remained.

Tang Fu lowered her gaze, looking at her own hand still warm from that brief touch.

She sighed quietly, then smiled again, serene and graceful.

She pulled out a script.
“Let’s rehearse this scene.”

Qing Jiuyan said nothing, her face expressionless.

Setting down her cup, she rose slowly. The smooth fabric of her clothes fell straight, emphasizing her tall, commanding frame.

Tang Fu saw blue heels appear in her line of sight.

Feeling the shadow fall over her, she looked up Qing Jiuyan was standing right before her.

“It’s been ages since we unpaired our CP. Yet you still can’t forget that woman?”

Qing Jiuyan leaned down, one hand in her pocket, the other braced on the back of the sofa caging Tang Fu beneath her, eyes locked.

Tang Fu blinked, leaning back slightly, but she didn’t flinch.

Her eyes narrowed and then suddenly, she shoved Qing Jiuyan’s shoulder.

Caught off guard, Qing Jiuyan toppled backward onto the sofa.

Tang Fu moved swiftly, lifting her skirt slightly as she climbed up one long, pale leg propped against the sofa beside Qing Jiuyan.

Mimicking her earlier pose, she braced one hand on the couch and leaned in, face close.

“If you know that pairing with her was just for show, how could you think I’m still hung up on her?”

Her tone was soft but razor sharp.

They were far too close now; Qing Jiuyan could feel the heat radiating from Tang Fu’s body, and that faint, familiar scent that was uniquely hers.

For the first time, Qing Jiuyan’s cold composure cracked.
Their breaths mingled her chest brushed against

A faint blush crept up Qing Jiuyan’s ears.
The light in her eyes was hungry, almost yearning, as if she were waiting for something inevitable.

Tang Fu smiled faintly, tracing the air just above Qing Jiuyan’s face her brows, her eyes, her nose…

Qing Jiuyan’s breathing quickened.

“What’s wrong? Weren’t you just talking about rehearsing a bed scene?
Why so nervous now? Seems you’re all talk and no action.”

Newcomers to the industry were always like this full of bold words, but lacking the courage to follow through.

Amusement glimmered in Tang Fu’s eyes as she traced the air near Qing Jiuyan’s lips, her motions slow and teasing.

Qing Jiuyan narrowed her eyes and suddenly, she darted her tongue out, licking Tang Fu’s fingertip.

“Who said I wouldn’t dare?” she challenged.

The hot, wet touch made Tang Fu’s hand freeze.

She blinked, feeling the moisture cooling on her skin.

She’d only meant to tease her to take her down a notch
but she hadn’t expected Qing Jiuyan to respond like that.

For a brief moment, Tang Fu’s composure faltered but she quickly regained it.

Her fingers slid down to Qing Jiuyan’s collarbone, straightening the black swan necklace there. She smiled faintly.
“But I don’t want to.”

The pressure on Qing Jiuyan’s body vanished.

Tang Fu stood, smoothing her dress, and tossed the script to her.
“Let’s go over the lines.”

As she turned the pages, her lashes trembled slightly remembering the warmth on her fingertips but her face gave nothing away.

Tang Fu began,
“Wanqing, I’ve told you I don’t love you. Why keep following me? Aren’t you just asking for pain?”

Qing Jiuyan ran a hand through her sleek black hair, steadying her breath.

She sat upright not even glancing at the script  and recited the lines she already knew by heart:

“You’re wrong, Muxue. This isn’t me asking for pain.
One day you’ll realize your body, and your soul, belong to me entirely.”