The Paranoid Film Queen Hooked Me, and I Fell in Love - Chapter 49

In the living room, the group exchanged uncertain glances.

Shang Qi shrugged with a slightly embarrassed look. “…If it’s just making instant noodles, I suppose I can contribute something.”

Chen Xingguang looked around at everyone’s expressions and cautiously offered, “If we’re having scrambled eggs with tomatoes, I can help with that too.”

Qi Helin gave an awkward smile but didn’t volunteer for anything.

Zeng Yue, seemingly having anticipated the current situation, stepped forward and said, “If no one minds my cooking, how about I take charge tonight?”

Qi Helin let out a breath of relief. “Thank goodness Yue-jie is here.”

Shang Qi and Chen Xingguang also relaxed visibly, stars practically twinkling in their eyes.

Xu Zhiyan and Shen Buhui exchanged a glance but said nothing. Xu Zhiyan knew that Shen Buhui had improved significantly in cooking lately—at least enough to handle home-style dishes. However, since Shen Buhui didn’t speak up, Xu Zhiyan didn’t bring it up either.

With Zeng Yue naturally taking the lead, the group headed into the kitchen.

They opened the refrigerator to inspect the ingredients provided by the production team. As the director had mentioned, it was barely enough to last the six of them for two meals. The rest would have to be figured out on their own.

Zeng Yue, who clearly had plenty of experience in the kitchen, immediately began preparing the ingredients and quickly assigned tasks to everyone.

Just as Xu Zhiyan was about to pick up a knife and start chopping vegetables, Shen Buhui suddenly spoke up. “Let me handle the cutting.”

While Xu Zhiyan was capable of making porridge or frying eggs, she was hopeless when it came to wielding a kitchen knife—something that made Shen Buhui a little uneasy.

Zeng Yue frowned slightly. She knew Shen Buhui couldn’t cook and was reluctant to let her handle anything as sharp as a knife.

“Shen-laoshi, why don’t you wash this bunch of scallions instead? Xiao Xu can handle the chopping.”

But Shen Buhui shook her head and didn’t follow her suggestion. Instead, she took the knife from Xu Zhiyan’s hand and said calmly, “She’s not good with knives—I’ll do the cutting.” As she spoke, she switched tasks with Xu Zhiyan.

Once her knife skills came into play—fast and precise as a blur—Shang Qi couldn’t help but exclaim as she watched the neatly sliced ingredients, “You really can’t judge a book by its cover. Shen-laoshi, your knife skills are amazing.”

Zeng Yue’s expression darkened slightly.

Xu Zhiyan glanced at her sideways but quietly focused on her own task.

Shen Buhui neatly sorted the chopped vegetables into separate dishes and said modestly, “I just practiced a bit at home when I had free time. I’m only decent with the knife.” It was her way of explaining why she hadn’t volunteered earlier.

While Shang Qi and the others worked on prepping ingredients and Xu Zhiyan handled the washing, Shen Buhui concentrated on chopping. The two of them worked together with such natural coordination, it was as if they had done this countless times in secret.

Meanwhile, Zeng Yue—who was in charge of cooking—grew colder and colder in demeanor.

Dinner turned out to be quite a feast thanks to everyone’s teamwork, and over the course of the meal, the group of strangers grew a little more familiar with one another.

After eating their fill, Shang Qi looked at the emptied plates, the result of a clean-plate initiative, and sighed, “I always thought Shen-laoshi was the kind of person untouched by worldly concerns. I never expected the biggest surprise today would be her. Your knife skills are honestly astonishing.”

“It’s true,” Chen Xingguang added. “But Yue-jie’s cooking was amazing too. I haven’t eaten this much in ages!”

As he spoke, his puppy-dog eyes drooped slightly, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. He looked so innocent and youthful—completely different from how he appeared on-screen, Xu Zhiyan thought.

Qi Helin chimed in with a theatrical sigh, clearly feigning regret. “Looks like all the dietary discipline I’ve stuck to for so long is about to be undone by this one meal.”

Embarrassed by all the praise, Zeng Yue nevertheless turned to Shen Buhui, eyes filled with anticipation, clearly waiting for her comment.

Noticing the expectant gaze from the other side of the table, Shen Buhui took a sip of the warm water Xu Zhiyan had thoughtfully prepared before the meal. She nodded slightly and said, “Teacher Zeng’s cooking is indeed excellent.”

Zeng Yue couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across her face.

Xu Zhiyan glanced around and realized she was the only one who hadn’t spoken yet.

Although it didn’t seem like Zeng Yue was particularly eager for her opinion, Xu Zhiyan thought for a moment and still said, “Thank you for your hard work tonight, Teacher Zeng.”

She had personally seen how much effort Shen Buhui had put in at the stove. So even though Xu Zhiyan didn’t particularly like Zeng Yue at the moment, she couldn’t deny the work Zeng Yue had done in the kitchen.

Or perhaps it was because she had witnessed Shen Buhui’s efforts firsthand that she found it easier to view others with a more generous heart.

While Xu Zhiyan felt she had improved her culinary skills, the truth was that while her porridge-making repertoire had grown, as for actual cooking… that was still a bit of a pipe dream.

That said, with one of them handling the porridge and rice, and the other managing the stove and dishes, she and Shen Buhui had found a rhythm in their cohabitation—a quiet, flavorful life they’d settled into.

After dinner, the group headed outside for a stroll.

The countryside night was peaceful. In the distance, a few lights twinkled like stars, and the crisp, fresh air made the walk feel especially refreshing and serene.

The six of them paired off casually, chatting idly to pass the time. The atmosphere was harmonious, almost idyllic.

At a glance, it really did feel like a scene straight out of pastoral life.

Mindful of the others around, Xu Zhiyan kept the conversation with Shen Buhui light, avoiding anything too personal.

At some point, Shang Qi slipped in beside the two of them. Watching their dynamic—no matter how much they tried to downplay it, there was still a subtle intimacy and familiarity that couldn’t be ignored. She rubbed her chin and teased Shen Buhui, “It’s rare to see you being this gentle, Shen-laoshi.”

Shen Buhui had once won Best Actress at the Baichuan Awards, becoming the youngest winner in the history of one of China’s top three film awards. While she was someone who’d found fame early in life, Shang Qi’s journey had been more of a late bloom. She took home the Best Actress award at the Yinyue Awards just last year, right as she hit thirty.

Though there was an age gap between the two, their professional roles were different enough that they’d never truly been competitors, despite media speculation. They simply weren’t very familiar with each other.

Shen Buhui tugged Xu Zhiyan’s hand gently, guiding her away from a patch of weeds underfoot.

“You can just call me Buhui, Shang Qi-jie,” she said.

Shang Qi blinked and obligingly changed her tone. “Alright then, Buhui.”

At thirty-one, a woman is at her most radiant—every move carrying the elegance and maturity that only time could grant. Xu Zhiyan happened to glance over just as Shang Qi covered her mouth with a soft laugh. She caught a subtle, almost imperceptible look of fascination in Chen Xingguang’s eyes as he watched her.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t help but take a second, closer look.

Shen Buhui noticed and tugged at Xu Zhiyan’s sleeve, letting out a soft cough.

Startled, Xu Zhiyan immediately turned back and took her hand. “Shen-laoshi, are you alright? Are you feeling cold? Catching a chill?”

She’d heard Shen Buhui cough a few times yesterday. She hadn’t expected to hear it again today.

Shen Buhui: “…”

Looking at Xu Zhiyan’s sincere concern, her heart warmed—but she still had to clarify. “No, I’m not cold. My throat’s just a little scratchy.”

Successfully drawing Xu Zhiyan’s attention back to herself, Shen Buhui subtly shifted their walking positions—placing herself between Xu Zhiyan and Chen Xingguang.

Shang Qi, chatting with Zeng Yue, caught the maneuver from the corner of her eye, and a flicker of amusement passed through her gaze.

After spending most of the day cramped in a car, everyone felt stiff and tired. Once they returned from their walk, they all agreed to wash up and get an early night. The production team, thankfully, didn’t throw any surprises at them on the first day.

After the cameras were turned off, Xu Zhiyan naturally helped Shen Buhui blow-dry her hair before getting ready for bed herself.

Just as she was about to slip off her slippers and climb into bed, she saw Shen Buhui standing silently by her bedside, just staring at her.

“…,” Xu Zhiyan, one slipper off, slowly slid her foot back in. She asked tentatively, “Should I come sleep over there?”

Shen Buhui nodded.

Xu Zhiyan hesitated. “Isn’t that… a bit bold? We are still filming a show, you know.”

Shen Buhui raised a brow. “You didn’t seem to think it was too bold when you brought protection earlier.”

Xu Zhiyan: “…”
She had no comeback for that.

Shen Buhui lifted the blanket and grabbed a pillow from Xu Zhiyan’s bed, placing it neatly at the head of her own before saying, “Don’t worry—I locked the door from the inside.”

At that, Xu Zhiyan quickly slipped under the covers and snuggled into the soft, fragrant embrace of her girlfriend, settling into a comfortable sleeping position.

Finding her usual spot nestled in Xu Zhiyan’s arms, Shen Buhui closed her eyes and asked, “How did filming feel today?”

“It was pretty refreshing,” Xu Zhiyan recalled. “At first, I kept noticing the camera crew following behind us. But later, since they installed fixed cameras in the house and yard, the staff stayed far away. Slowly, it really started to feel like we were just on a trip.”

“What about you? Anything you’re not used to?” she asked softly, resting her chin against Shen Buhui’s forehead.

“Not really,” Shen Buhui murmured, rubbing her head gently against Xu Zhiyan. “As long as I’m with you, everything feels good.”

Xu Zhiyan’s lips curled into a smile, and she tightened her arms around Shen Buhui, clearly enjoying the sweet words.

Only Shen Buhui knew she wasn’t just saying those things—she meant them. When it came to others, what did it matter how nice or unpleasant they were? As long as things were good between her and Xu Zhiyan, and as long as Xu Zhiyan was happy, that was all she cared about.

Still, she couldn’t help but think—if people started complimenting them as a perfect match, if the mention of one’s name naturally brought up the other, then her unspoken goal would be halfway achieved.

But she hadn’t forgotten the way Xu Zhiyan had looked at Chen Xingguang during the walk earlier.

Shen Buhui knew exactly why—but under the premise that Xu Zhiyan hadn’t revealed her secret identity, technically, she shouldn’t know the reason.

Even so, she couldn’t help her jealousy. “Why were you looking at Chen Xingguang tonight?”

Xu Zhiyan rubbed her nose. “I was just curious.”

Was she about to confess her secret identity? Shen Buhui’s heart skipped a beat.

“Curious about what?” she asked.

“I have a friend who really likes him. It’s my first time seeing him in person, so I couldn’t help but take a few more glances,” Xu Zhiyan explained.

Shen Buhui had known she wouldn’t spill her identity, but still—hearing that made her a little disappointed. Then again, she had her own secrets too. With that thought, her heart settled again.

“Is this one of those ‘I have a friend’ excuses?” Shen Buhui teased.

“No, really. Just someone I know online,” Xu Zhiyan replied, thinking of her online friend “Cherry Little Manzi,” and then inevitably of her own CP fan account.

In that quiet, cozy nighttime atmosphere, a flicker of hesitation passed through her. Should she tell her girlfriend about that side of herself?

Sure, couples needed their own space, but after dating for so long, Xu Zhiyan believed that lovers shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.

After all, true intimacy meant facing one another with complete honesty.

Sliding down a bit so they were eye to eye, Xu Zhiyan said slowly, “It’s true that my friend likes him… but I kind of like him too.”

Facing Shen Buhui’s widening eyes, she gave a sheepish smile. “Bet you didn’t expect that, huh? I actually ship him with Lan Xingyu—I’m a fan of their CP.”

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