Why Does The "Fishing Queen" Always Flirt With Me? - Chapter 42

A month’s time felt agonizingly long to Tang Wangyue. Her chat history with Yun Chuxian was still stuck on that last message she had sent.

From that moment on, they had lost contact. Even knowing the other was on the same production, they hadn’t reached out. At first, Wangyue thought Chuxian would reply eventually; then, she grew stubborn—why should I keep chasing someone who won’t even text back? By the time she calmed down, she didn’t know how to bridge the gap anymore. Starting a conversation out of the blue felt like it would be nothing but awkward.

So, she had dragged it out until now.

In the B-unit, Mo Lai was the top authority. Since she was overwhelmed with work, she had handed much of it to Wangyue. Wangyue felt like she was doing everything except writing scripts; she tried her hand at almost every job on set, gaining a deeper understanding of how a crew functions. It was also a way to keep herself busy—busy enough to stop overthinking.

At the end of November, the B-unit headed to the ancient city to reunite with the A-unit. After an eighteen-hour drive, the group finally arrived. By the time they got there, Wangyue was so exhausted she could barely stand straight.

She stepped off the van and stretched. “Where are we staying?”

Mo Lai, grabbing her bags, answered immediately, “A guesthouse.”

The ancient city consisted mostly of historic buildings and reconstructed city walls. To find a hotel, one would have to drive to the city center. This area only had local houses converted into guesthouses. To save time, the crew had booked several of them.

While Chuxian didn’t have a private villa to herself, the building she occupied was filled with her own staff and bodyguards for security. Furthermore, the crew had cleverly arranged the housing so that Chuxian’s building was surrounded by other staff, with a security perimeter to keep out obsessive fans and intruders.

Wangyue stopped near the cluster of guesthouses. “Now what?” She had no idea where she had been assigned.

“You’re in Building A1. I’m in B1.”

Wangyue looked around and saw wooden signs hanging on the doors with handwritten marker—likely a last-minute layout change by the crew.

“A1?” Mo Lai suddenly realized something. “Isn’t that where Yun Chuxian is staying?”

Given Chuxian’s status, she could have easily demanded a building to herself. The fact that Wangyue was placed there was highly unusual. “Yue, how far have you two actually progressed?” Mo Lai asked, full of gossip.

How far? If anything, they had regressed to total strangers. Wangyue didn’t know what had happened; they seemed to have drifted apart, so what did it mean to be placed in the same building? Without Chuxian’s explicit nod, she didn’t believe the assistant director would have dared to put her in A1.

Seeing Wangyue’s silence, Mo Lai knew something was wrong. “I told you to stay away before because there were too many uncertainties. But since your family and hers are both on board, there are no external obstacles. If you like her, go for it.”

Mo Lai had been worried about Wangyue getting hurt, but since the families were already “in-laws,” she saw no harm.

Wangyue lowered her eyes. “I know.”

If I like her, I’ll chase her. If I can’t catch her, then so be it.

“Go inside and rest,” Mo Lai urged. “We have to start shooting tomorrow morning.”

They had left last night and driven for eighteen hours. Between that and unloading gear, they had been on the move for twenty hours. Their bodies were at their limits. Director Sun had specifically told them to rest until the next morning.

Wangyue dragged her luggage into the building. It wasn’t “quitting time” for the crew yet, so only one person was sitting in the lobby.

“Hello, you must be Screenwriter Tang?” The woman at the front desk stood up. She had clearly been expecting her.

“Yes.”

“I’m the owner of this guesthouse. Your room is ready on the second floor. I’ll take you up.”

Wangyue followed her up to a standard room with a large bed. It was simple—sparse, even. Sensing her observation, the owner smiled. “The linens are all new. We replaced everything for the crew’s arrival.” This was a big contract for her; even at a lower rate, the fame of having Yun Chuxian stay here would bring in massive business later.

“Thank you for your hard work,” Wangyue said.

“It’s no trouble at all. It’s my luck that you chose us.” The owner was talkative. “I actually thought this room would stay empty and I’d wasted new linens, but Miss Yun told me yesterday to get it ready. This morning, Assistant Bai even came by specifically to remind me that a screenwriter named Tang would be staying here.”

Wangyue found she quite liked the owner’s talkativeness. If she hadn’t been so chatty, Wangyue wouldn’t have known that Chuxian was still thinking about her. Her heart settled. As long as Chuxian still cared, everything was still on the table.

Wangyue quickly washed up, dried her hair, and set an alarm. She knew the crew finished at 8:00 PM, meaning Chuxian would be back by 8:30. She needed to sleep now to make sure she was coherent enough to avoid saying the wrong thing later.

She fell asleep the second her head hit the pillow. When the alarm finally went off, she jolted awake. It took her a moment to remember she was in the A-unit’s hotel.

Is Chuxian back yet?

She washed her face with cold water. Seeing her haggard face and dark circles in the mirror, she wondered if she should put on makeup. She didn’t want to be “rejected” looking like this.

Just as she was reaching for her makeup, her phone rang.

“Yue, Miss Yun is injured! Get downstairs, fast!”

Mo Lai’s panicked voice sent a jolt through Wangyue’s system. Forgetting everything, she ran out without even a jacket. In the chilly November weather, she sprinted downstairs in her shorts and a t-shirt.

Sure enough, Chuxian was sitting in a wheelchair, being pushed by Bai Yu. She looked like she was in a serious state.

Wangyue ignored everyone else, practically sliding on her knees to reach Chuxian. “What happened? Where are you hurt? Have you seen a doctor?”

She scanned Chuxian’s body but saw no bandages or casts. She looked up and met Chuxian’s cold, distant gaze. Wangyue instinctively let go of her hands, but the worry in her eyes didn’t fade.

“Screenwriter Tang,” Bai Yu said with a smile. “The Boss is fine.”

Mo Lai pulled her aside. “I just asked. She skipped dinner and had a low blood sugar episode. She stumbled while on the wire and took a fall. Just some scraped skin, nothing serious.”

Wangyue’s brow stayed furrowed. Low blood sugar was serious; how could she not eat?

Mo Lai saw her expression and said, “Don’t ask too many questions, just take care of her.” Mo Lai had been asleep when Sun Ran called her to meet Chuxian and ensure she got to her room safely. Seeing the wheelchair had snapped her awake, leading her to call Wangyue. “Look after her. Call me if anything happens, no matter what time it is.”

“Okay.”

Wangyue stepped forward. Bai Yu and the bodyguard were about to help Chuxian up the stairs, but Wangyue cut in. “I’ve got her.”

She bent down and scooped Chuxian up in a bridal carry. Controlling her pace to keep it smooth but quick, she headed upstairs. Chuxian didn’t protest; she simply stayed in Wangyue’s arms, silent.

The bodyguards watched them go. “Do we still need to go up?”

Bai Yu whistled. “She’s strong.” She realized something and turned to the guard. “Give me the Boss’s bags. I’ll find an excuse to disappear in a minute.”

Bai Yu dropped the bags in Chuxian’s room and made a quick exit. “I need to go buy some things!” Whether she was coming back tonight was a different story.

Wangyue waited until the door was closed before turning to Chuxian. “Sister, do you still feel unwell?”

Wangyue had experienced low blood sugar before and knew how drained it made a person feel.

Chuxian pursed her lips and spoke in a low, cold voice. “I heard that Screenwriter Tang was very popular with the actresses in the B-unit.”

The B-unit actors weren’t big stars, so Wangyue had looked after the minor characters she had created, giving their roles a bit more soul in the limited screen time they had. This had led to one girl confessing her feelings to her. In the industry, same-sex interest wasn’t rare. Wangyue had simply and politely refused.

“Sister is far more popular,” Wangyue countered. “Tens of millions of fans and admirers.”

She wasn’t exaggerating. Compared to the one girl in B-unit, Chuxian was surrounded by adoration. Besides, she was just working, not flirting—why was Chuxian talking to her like this? Especially after not replying to her messages for a month.

Wangyue couldn’t help it. “Why didn’t you reply to my messages?”

“I forgot,” Chuxian replied coldly, as if it were a trivial matter.

“Was that all?”

“What else would it be?”

Neither of them was communicating well. Chuxian looked at the downcast Wangyue, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. The kid is angry. How should I coax her back?

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