Why Does The "Fishing Queen" Always Flirt With Me? - Chapter 36

Yun Chuxian lay on the bed, her fingers gripping the sheets with enough force to turn her knuckles white. Her body curled into a tight ball, only relaxing after a long while.

She couldn’t initiate such bold seductions on Tang Wangyue and expect her own body to remain indifferent. The physical reaction was visceral—so much so that a certain “supply” had been depleting rather quickly. She couldn’t very well go buy them herself, and she felt awkward sending Bai Yu for a second trip.

However, early the next morning, Bai Yu arrived with a package.

“Boss, here’s breakfast. And this… I’ll put it in the drawer.”

As a professional assistant, restocking was part of the job. Seeing how fast her boss was going through them, combined with seeing Tang Wangyue wake up on the sofa the other day, Bai Yu had long since concluded that the two were already deeply involved. It was only natural for a young, passionate couple to go through a few boxes in the middle of the night.

So this time, she bought several extra.

Yun Chuxian: “…”

She felt an overwhelming urge to explain, yet found herself utterly speechless. What do you do when your assistant is too smart for her own good? You can’t exactly kill her to keep the secret.

If Chuxian was struggling, Tang Wangyue, as the object of the seduction, was faring even worse. She was holding it in with everything she had, firmly believing that as long as she fell asleep, she’d be fine. But a pressure kept under such a tight seal is bound to be uncontrollable when it finally explodes.

*****

The time soon arrived for the team from Jingwei Video to arrive. Since the studio town didn’t have its own airport, the group had to drive in.

The crew gathered at the hotel entrance to welcome them—though, naturally, Yun Chuxian was not among them. Given her status, her appearance would cause a riot, and as a public figure, it was hard to refuse autographs and photos. It was better for her to stay in her room and wait for them to come to her.

Wangyue stood at the back of the group. Mo Lai leaned in and whispered, “Are you going to give Jingwei your script?”

“No.” Wangyue didn’t hide her thoughts from Mo Lai. “The person coming isn’t someone Director Sun is familiar with. Handing over a script now would be too abrupt.”

Mo Lai agreed. They had thought a familiar contact was coming, but once they heard it was Ye Lingxi, the plan changed. Director Sun had even called a friend to ask about Ye Lingxi’s personality—she was famously difficult to sway with social favors.

Chuxian had likely mentioned Ye Lingxi’s name to give Wangyue a subtle heads-up, sparing Sun Ran’s pride while looking out for Wangyue. As expected of “Sister”—her connections were vast and her social grace impeccable.

Director Sun patted Wangyue’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. If we don’t give it to Ye Lingxi, there are plenty of others.” It was a promise of compensation, showing just how much Sun Ran valued her word.

Wangyue simply smiled. “Thank you, Director.”

*****

As they waited in the lobby, Sun Muyao sat next to Wangyue. “Senior, did you stop writing scripts after graduation?” Muyao had been trying to track Wangyue down for a while; she had even cut her vacation short just to help out on this set once she heard Wangyue was here.

“Mmm,” Wangyue replied vaguely. She didn’t have much of an impression of this junior—if Muyao hadn’t butchered her previous script so badly, she might not have remembered her at all. She was only being polite because Sun Ran was a good director.

“I’m looking to start a new project,” Muyao continued. “But my mom says a script is the foundation, and without a good one, the project is a non-starter. If you have any suitable scripts, Senior, you can give them to me. I’ll pay market price.”

Muyao knew Wangyue’s work was valuable. She was aware that people invested in her mostly because of her mother’s name as executive producer, but she hoped that eventually, her own name would be enough to secure funding.

Wangyue was searching for a way to refuse when Mo Lai cut in. “They’re here.”

A business van pulled up. First out was a woman in a green striped shirt, white trousers, and sunglasses, her hair in a simple low ponytail. She was speaking coldly into her phone. Sun Ran immediately recognized the group.

Ye Lingxi was representing the “Gold Master” (investor), so Sun Ran had cleared her schedule. Despite her own seniority, Sun Ran knew to be courteous to the ones holding the purse strings.

“President Ye, a pleasure to meet you,” Sun Ran greeted.

“Director Sun, why isn’t the crew filming during the day?” Ye Lingxi’s first question was strictly professional—and clearly critical. To her, every second on set was money. If they weren’t filming now, was it an inefficient use of the budget?

Sun Ran’s smile faltered. Who was the director here? Even at her level, she still had to endure the meddling of investors. “It’s too hot lately, so we’re primarily doing night shoots,” she explained, though she was internally annoyed that Jingwei had sent such a “stiff” newcomer to find fault.

“I’ve booked a restaurant,” Sun Ran said, maintaining a pleasant facade. “Let’s head over.”

“You all go ahead. I need to see Yun Chuxian first.” Ye Lingxi brushed past them and headed for the elevator.

Hearing that Ye Lingxi was looking for Chuxian, Wangyue—remembering the woman’s cold attitude—immediately followed.

“Xiao Tang!” “Yue!” Sun Ran and Mo Lai called out, but Wangyue only offered a strained smile. “I forgot something in my room!”

Mo Lai looked at her doubtfully but let her go.

******

In the elevator, Ye Lingxi studied Wangyue. “You were with Director Sun. You must be someone important on the crew.”

“I’m Tang Wangyue, the screenwriter.”

Ye Lingxi’s age was hard to pin down, but she looked like a polished, independent power-woman. Wangyue respected that, but she worried Ye Lingxi was looking for trouble with Chuxian. She wanted to be there to help.

“Screenwriter?” Ye Lingxi thought for a moment. “What are your representative works?”

“None.”

Ye Lingxi arched an eyebrow. Usually, people would offer excuses or try to sell her a script immediately. She assumed Wangyue had followed her to make a pitch. But Wangyue looked like she genuinely just wanted to get to her room.

When the elevator stopped, they both got out and headed the same way. Ye Lingxi stopped, exasperated. “Fine. Show me your work.”

Wangyue: “???”

“You followed me here to show me your script, didn’t you?” Ye Lingxi looked at Wangyue’s bag, waiting.

Wangyue let out a helpless sigh, reached into her bag, and rummaged around. Ye Lingxi prepared her mental list of criticisms… only for Wangyue to pull out a room key and swipe it at the door.

Beep.

“I’m back at my room, President Ye.”

Wangyue didn’t explain further, but the fact was clear: she was just going home. Ye Lingxi stood there in stunned silence, her face heating up with embarrassment.

As Ye Lingxi looked around for the room number, Wangyue pointed across the hall. “That’s the one. Room across from mine.”

Ye Lingxi didn’t say a word but practically sprinted to the door and rang the bell. Bai Yu opened it. “President Ye, you’re here!”

Bai Yu then noticed Wangyue. “Screenwriter Tang? Weren’t you going to the restaurant?”

“I forgot something.”

Wangyue’s voice reached Chuxian inside. A second later, Chuxian poked her head out, her lips curving into a smile when she saw the “puppy” across the hall.

“Then Screenwriter Tang should come with us in a bit,” Chuxian invited warmly.

“Okay.”

Wangyue hid her joy. If there hadn’t been an audience, she would have beamed.

Ye Lingxi immediately stepped into Chuxian’s line of sight, blocking her view of Wangyue. “Yun Chuxian! I come all this way and you don’t even come down to meet me? You just stand in your doorway?”

Hearing the tone, Wangyue relaxed. They were clearly close friends. She quietly closed her door, missing Chuxian’s mumbled reply:

“You’re in the way. I was looking at my Yue.”

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