She Became The Black Lotus’s Pure, Untouchable Love - Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Deng Yanxin watched with professional appreciation as the man and woman leaned against each other under the tree.

She had a vague impression of these two actors. She had seen Ning Xiangxiang at an awards ceremony and exchanged a few words with her. As for the man playing the third lead next to her, he came from an idol survival show and was notoriously finicky. While Ning Xiangxiang stood out in the sweltering sun to test the lighting and positioning, he was the type to lounge in the shade.

The third lead wasn’t just finicky; his mannerisms were slightly effeminate. His meticulously cared-for skin was so pale it practically dazzled in the sunlight, earning him the industry nickname “Madam White Snake.” Despite these flaws, there was no denying he was strikingly handsome. As long as his tone, orchid-flick gestures, and behavior were reined in, he was quite fit for the role of an overbearing third lead.

Though it was a small production, one could tell effort had been put into the costumes and props. Madam White Snake and Ning Xiangxiang stood together in a way that was undeniably pleasing to the eye. Under the cherry blossoms, with petals fluttering down upon them, they leaned into each other amidst the endless spring scenery. The scene was exceptionally beautiful.

Just as Deng Yanxin was mentally complimenting the director for having unexpectedly good aesthetics despite his history of bad films, she suddenly heard a crisp crack from her wheelchair.

It sounded as if something was about to snap.

What’s going on? Deng Yanxin looked around in confusion for the source of the noise.

Then came another sharp crack, so loud she feared her wheelchair would fall apart if it happened again. This time, she pinpointed the sound: it was coming from directly behind her.

Deng Yanxin turned her head in horror.

She saw Huo Xingyu standing behind her, eyes dark and harboring a bone-chilling frost as she stared at the pair under the flower tree. Her face was expressionless, her gaze deep and cold as usual, but her slender, elegant hands were gripping the wheelchair handles so hard that her veins were bulging.

“Huh??” Deng Yanxin followed her gaze, baffled.

She saw the man and woman with their foreheads pressed together, petals dancing in the wind and landing on them. It was a picture of peace and harmony. Madam White Snake gently tilted Ning Xiangxiang’s face up, gazing at her intently. At that moment, the music technician aptly started the drama’s BGM, heightening the romantic atmosphere to its peak. Around them, seven or eight cameras were capturing this sweet moment from different angles, likely to be slowed down in post-production for maximum “heart-fluttering” effect.

Deng Yanxin no longer had the heart to watch the romance. She only felt her wheelchair wailing under the violent trembling of Huo Xingyu’s grip.

Huo Xingyu was furious. That much was obvious. But toward whom this fire was directed, Deng Yanxin couldn’t tell. She ran through the possibilities:

Could she be angry because the scene is so ugly it offends her aesthetic? Unlikely. Even if Madam White Snake was a bit feminine, he was handsome, and he and Ning Xiangxiang made a picturesque pair. It certainly wasn’t an eyesore.

Could it be that someone here owes her money? In a “triple-small” production (small venue, small production, small budget), how could there be anyone Huo Xingyu even knew?

As each theory was debunked, Deng Yanxin became more bewildered. What was she so angry about? Was she mad that the environment was too shabby to be worth her investment? Even so, there was no need to dismantle a wheelchair!

Hearing the creak-creak-creak, Deng Yanxin realized that if the chair actually broke and she fell, the physical injury would be minor compared to the headline. She could already see it:

Critically Injured Best Actress Falls on Her Butt in Public Due to Broken Wheelchair

Deng Yanxin held her breath. Just as she was debating how to console the “Ancestor” behind her, Madam White Snake leaned in closer to Ning Xiangxiang. Their foreheads touched, petals swirled, and his long-fingered hand cupped her face. Accompanied by the romantic music, he moved his face toward hers, their noses almost brushing. It looked as if they were about to kiss.

Suddenly, in this tense moment where Deng Yanxin was worried about her chair, a cold voice shouted from above her.

“Stop!”

With that sharp cry, the entire crew seemed to freeze. It took several seconds for everyone to react. From the director to the actors to the lighting crew, every head turned toward them.

Faced with the collective gaze, Deng Yanxin cursed her luck. She had given up on guessing what the Fourth Miss Huo was thinking—if she wanted to do something, everyone else just had to play along. She put on her habitual, kind smile, bracing herself for whatever was coming next.

The director looked toward the uninvited guests with fury. He had a slight astigmatism and couldn’t see clearly who was standing in the distance under the harsh noon sun. But that didn’t stop the fire in his chest. They were in the middle of a crucial shoot—who was so tactless as to interrupt?

He whipped off his sun hat and marched forward, shouting and pointing. However, the more “majestic” his steps became, the more he withered as he got closer. His voice gradually died down until he saw exactly who it was.

He went silent. Confusion and shock paralyzed his ability to think.

Why? Why are Fourth Miss Huo and Deng Yanxin at my crew’s rented location? For a fleeting moment, he felt like he must be an international auteur; why else would two people of this caliber show up at his set?

The silence was so absolute you couldn’t even hear a whisper. In this deadly quiet, the battle-hardened Deng Yanxin was the first to build a bridge.

She smiled gently, attempting to defuse the situation. “Director Lu, it’s been a while. Your temper is as fiery as ever.”

Director Lu looked at Deng Yanxin as if she were a bodhisattva descending to save him. He followed her lead. “Ah, these young actors are hard to teach, as you know. I’ve been a bit irritable lately, I’m truly sorry… I didn’t know… I didn’t know President Huo would be visiting today. Is there something you need?”

At those words, every eye turned to the cold-faced woman standing behind Deng Yanxin.

Huo Xingyu didn’t care for Deng Yanxin’s pleasantries, and she cared even less for Director Lu’s fawning or the prying gazes of the crew.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen the dramas Ning Xiangxiang acted in. In those works—which Huo Xingyu didn’t even consider “art”—Ning Xiangxiang always played the second or third lead, the “White Moonlight” who only needed to dance or give a grateful look. The most intimate she ever got was holding hands. Intimate scenes were rare.

Furthermore, seeing it through a screen was worlds apart from seeing it in person.

Huo Xingyu’s gaze was locked on Ning Xiangxiang. Seeing someone else cup her face and lean in triggered an overwhelming wave of resistance she couldn’t explain. Her logic kept repeating: This is filming. This is normal. It’s fake, it’s acting!

But she couldn’t force her eyes away. All she saw was that male actor closing in, trying to wrap her in his arms, about to kiss the Ning Xiangxiang who belonged to her.

She is mine!

The thought sent an uncontrollable rage through her. And Ning Xiangxiang—the woman who had made her absentminded since last night, made her cancel work and meetings, made her drive all this way with a million excuses just for one look—was just sitting there, her hand still held by Madam White Snake, her eyes full of surprise.

Ning Xiangxiang just sat there, looking at her from a distance. She saw Huo Xingyu’s arrival and her freezing expression. She saw the obvious displeasure and anger. Yet, she didn’t come running to her side.

I canceled work and drove all this way… for what?

Huo Xingyu suddenly felt a bit foolish. The tension of the drive, the tiny sparks of anticipation and urgency, the practiced excuses—it all felt a bit ridiculous. Because Ning Xiangxiang didn’t seem happy to see her at all.

A sensation like acid began burning through Huo Xingyu, making her logic spiral out of control. She only wanted Ning Xiangxiang to belong to her, but now someone else was so close to her. Seeing her anger, Ning Xiangxiang was just as surprised as the others, but mostly, she looked at her with fear.

Why? Why doesn’t she come forward and ask why I’m angry?

Because she was so ditsy, so slow, so unintelligent, Huo Xingyu didn’t even require her to “coax” her. If she just walked over obediently, looked at her with those reddened deer-eyes, and tugged at her sleeve… she wouldn’t even have to say a word for the anger to start fading.

But Ning Xiangxiang stayed put.

And that third lead—what was he doing? Why was he shrinking “pitifully” behind Ning Xiangxiang, peeking out like he needed protection? Why couldn’t Ning Xiangxiang learn from him??

The sourness in Huo Xingyu’s heart swelled until it threatened to overflow. She couldn’t name this emotion, but under its weight, her anger didn’t subside; it intensified.

In that moment, she just wanted to stop the filming. Preferably, stop Ning Xiangxiang from ever filming again.

Huo Xingyu lowered her gaze, her dark eyes sweeping over the trembling Director Lu. Her red lips moved slightly. “Your crew is to stop working temporarily.”

“What?” Director Lu’s eyes nearly popped out. “Stop… stop working?”

The crew members exchanged looks. No one dared to ask why. Even without a formal notice or prior warning, if Miss Huo spoke, who would dare defy her? Even if they had the guts to argue, the Film City owners would likely breach the contract just to hand the space over to her.

As people began to pack up their things to comply, Ning Xiangxiang, sitting in her wheelchair in the distance, suddenly spoke up: “President Huo, why do you suddenly want us to stop?”

Good.

Finally speaking.

Huo Xingyu pressed her lips thin, her cold eyes narrowing as she watched her. She had come to see Ning Xiangxiang because the girl “liked her so much”—and perhaps, just a tiny bit, because she wanted to see her. She had driven all this way, even rescuing a fellow “broken-leg” patient on the road.

But she had received none of the things she expected.

Ning Xiangxiang wasn’t overjoyed to see her.

She didn’t come to her side in delight. The first thing she said wasn’t asking why she was here or why she was angry. It was asking why the work had stopped. It looked as if… as if she didn’t care about Huo Xingyu at all.

Is she that desperate to film this? The fee for being the Huo Charity Ambassador was more than three of these trashy web dramas combined!

Huo Xingyu grew more incensed the more she thought about it. She sneered inwardly, though her face remained indifferent. “Because Miss Deng is injured and wants some peace and quiet to relax here.”

“Then… how long do we have to stop for?” Ning Xiangxiang pressed.

“How long?” Huo Xingyu scoffed. “Depends on my mood. If I’m in a good mood, one day. If I’m in a bad mood, maybe a year.”

She watched Ning Xiangxiang, observing every micro-expression. Huo Xingyu thought: If she just acts cute, if she just smiles at me… maybe my anger will vanish. As long as she doesn’t get so close to others, as long as my Ning Xiangxiang isn’t held by someone else… I’m not unreasonable.

But Ning Xiangxiang just stood her ground, refusing to move a step toward her. The emotions in those deer-eyes—the look she gave her and the expression on her face—were filled with a type of anger, loss, and sadness that Huo Xingyu couldn’t understand.

Why is Ning Xiangxiang sad and angry?

I’m the one who’s been wronged here.