She Became The Black Lotus’s Pure, Untouchable Love - Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Deng Yanxin watched the street scenery recede outside the window; in the distance, she could already spot the upturned eaves of the ancient-style buildings in the Film City.

Looking at this familiar road, she fell silent.

She had just been pushed to the gate of the Film City by that little starlet, her phone had conveniently died, and she had spent what felt like an eternity laboriously driving her wheelchair back toward the hotel. She was only halfway there when Huo Xingyu picked her up and sent her right back.

All that effort pushing herself had been for nothing.

Deng Yanxin glanced at Huo Xingyu sitting beside her. The woman looked as composed as ever, the habitual coldness lingering between her brows, her thin lips pressed tight. She clearly had no intention of striking up a conversation.

Actually, even back outside the car, Deng Yanxin had felt something was off, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. Now that she was inside, it clicked.

The Rapid’s sound system was pulsing, the highs and lows harmonizing to play an old song—on a loop. Having sat there for ten minutes, Deng Yanxin had already heard the song three times. She suspected she’d know the lyrics by heart before they reached their destination.

She had known Huo Xingyu for two or three years and had ridden in her car three times. Usually, the atmosphere was one of suffocating silence. Even if one had the courage to speak, work topics received only curt replies, and any attempt at small talk was met with the traditional, soul-crushing “Huo-style” shutdown.

She remembered one time she reached out to turn the music knob, only for Huo Xingyu to instantly mute it. She still recalled those cold eyes sweeping over her as the elegant lips moved to say: “It’s noisy.”

Deng Yanxin knew that Huo Xingyu was someone who brilliantly applied her intellect to making money, yet she balanced that brilliance with an almost archaic stubbornness. When that established stubbornness was broken, she became incredibly strange. But listening to one song on repeat? Deng Yanxin wasn’t sure if she had just fallen into a new, inexplicable obsession.

As the Film City drew closer, she ventured a question: “Are you going to that filming base?”

“Why? If it’s not on your way, I can drop you off right now.”

Ugh… yep, that’s the normal Huo Xingyu. Deng Yanxin’s face darkened as she countered, “Given how difficult you are to get along with, I find it hard to believe the gossip magazines saying so many people like you.”

Huo Xingyu raised an eyebrow, emphasizing her words: “Is that so? And what if someone knows exactly how difficult I am, yet still loves me… very, very much?”

“Then that’s true love. You’d better be profoundly grateful and keep that person on a pedestal.”

“Is that so?”

“Few people can stand your personality. I advise you not to let go of whatever saint is willing to sacrifice themselves to your ‘tiger’ nature,” Deng Yanxin quipped. She drifted into boredom, watching the scenery pass by.

The speakers were now playing the same song for the sixth time. It felt like brainwashing. Just as she was about to suggest changing the track, she turned her head and froze.

She saw the corners of Huo Xingyu’s thin lips being pulled upward by some mysterious force. Because it was so rare, she couldn’t decide if she was witnessing a supernatural possession or if Huo Xingyu simply couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

She had no idea what Huo Xingyu was thinking, but there was even a faint blush creeping across the woman’s face.

Facing this eerie scene, Deng Yanxin suddenly felt a chill down her spine. She sat there, restless and uneasy. She couldn’t tell if it was the car’s AC or Huo Xingyu’s behavior, but she felt as if she were sitting in the middle of a cold storage locker.

If her leg and waist weren’t too injured to move, Deng Yanxin felt that the moment she saw that smile, she would have flung the door open and jumped out—traffic be damned. She’d head straight for the nearest temple to ask a high priest for an exorcism.

Forcing her gaze back out the window at the gilded pavilions, she changed the subject: “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Market research.”

“You? Researching here?” Deng Yanxin said in surprise. “These are all low-budget crews. The Huo Group actually cares about this? I thought your company prided itself on ‘location shooting only’ for major projects.”

The eastern base was known in the industry for being mediocre, with cheap sets and low fees. No major production would film here.

“And collecting a debt.”

Hearing this blatant excuse, Deng Yanxin smirked internally. Who could borrow money from Huo Xingyu and end up as a minor director or actor here? Moreover, the idea of someone being a “deadbeat” to a member of the Huo family was unheard of.

But Deng Yanxin didn’t call her out. She preferred to leave people some dignity, even when she knew they were talking nonsense. Besides, calling out Huo Xingyu usually resulted in a gaze as sharp as autumn leaves caught in a gale.

Coming to a filming base for no reason, failing to give a straight answer, smiling randomly, and blushing for no cause… if this were anyone else, Deng Yanxin’s years of experience in the industry would tell her one thing: this person was definitely chasing a star in the cast.

But since it was Huo Xingyu, that logic didn’t seem to apply. This money-making machine was interested in nothing but work, let alone women. Perhaps it really was as she said—the web drama market was growing, and the Huo Group wanted a piece of the pie. Maybe she was smiling at the thought of the Huo Group’s stock price rising further.

Deng Yanxin truly couldn’t find any other explanation. Forcing herself to accept this “business” logic, she breathed a sigh of relief and asked, “Is the owner of the Film City waiting for you at the gate?”

“No.”

“Did they send you a crew pass?”

“No.”

“Then how are we getting in?” Deng Yanxin looked at her.

She figured Huo Xingyu hadn’t spent much time on actual sets. Even if she had, it was likely an official inspection with a swarm of staff following her. But now, they had no IDs and hadn’t called ahead. If the security guards were even remotely competent, they wouldn’t let them in.

Huo Xingyu turned her head, her gaze flat as she looked Deng Yanxin up and down. “The guards here should have seen your movies, right?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Then it seems Miss Deng’s popularity still has a lot of room for improvement.”

“You…” Deng Yanxin bit her tongue.

…

After “using” Deng Yanxin’s face to get through the gates, Huo Xingyu felt her heart grow slightly—just slightly—unsettled as they neared the lights and sets.

By habit, she never left the office early on workdays. Today, she had slipped away early specifically to avoid peak hour traffic. She had abandoned her work and driven two hours from the west of the city to the east, all just to see Ning Xiangxiang.

For some reason, every time she was about to see Ning Xiangxiang, her nerves tightened instinctively. A groundless tension rose in her chest, as if this were an incredibly important matter.

It’s all Ning Xiangxiang’s fault. It was because Ning Xiangxiang loved her so much that she… she was forced to start caring.

She pushed Deng Yanxin toward the set and soon spotted the filming area. Under the glare of several spotlights sat Ning Xiangxiang in a wooden wheelchair. Several staff members surrounded her, touch-up kits in hand, fixing her makeup and hair.

She was dressed in silks of gold and silver, yet she didn’t look stodgy. Instead, she looked as delicate as a flower—regal yet fragile. Ning Xiangxiang held an emerald-green sachet in one hand and her script in the other, her head bowed as she muttered her lines.

Huo Xingyu wanted to step forward and speak, but she didn’t know how to start.

“I dropped you off yesterday; you haven’t paid the fare.”? No, that was too cold. Besides, Ning Xiangxiang was so dim-witted; what if she actually thought she came for the money? She was so poor she couldn’t even afford an assistant; what if she actually tried to pay?

“Because I helped you and saw how pitiful you were, I’ve shown mercy by coming to see what you’re lacking. I’m just that kind-hearted; you’re welcome.”? Calling her “pitiful” might hurt her pride.

Looking at Ning Xiangxiang’s fair cheek, which looked as soft as a fresh steamed bun, and her furrowed brows, Huo Xingyu felt a sudden urge to reach out and pinch them. She couldn’t help but wonder: when Ning Xiangxiang saw her, would she be so surprised and happy that she’d throw herself into her arms? Knowing she had left work just to see her… she’d probably be overjoyed. And then, she’d love her even more, right?

Just as she was about to step forward, the director’s megaphone roared: “Starting! Second female lead and third male lead in position, hurry up! Move that blower further away!”

Huo Xingyu froze mid-step.

Not far away, a man in a white robe with his hair pinned up in a crown sauntered over from the shade, surrounded by a swarm of assistants. At the director’s urging, he knelt before Ning Xiangxiang, arms wide as assistants adjusted his robes.

The clapperboard snapped. People scurried away.

He took Ning Xiangxiang’s small, cool hand and pressed it to his cheek. One of his hands reached up to caress her tender face.

Opening his lips, he recited his lines in a stiff, emotionless drone: “A-Li, I promise you, from now on, we… we will never, ever be apart again.”

The blower kicked in right on cue, a gust of wind rattling the branches. White petals were swept up, fluttering down around them like snow, creating an atmosphere of lingering romance.