The Movie Queen Always Wants to Kiss Me - Chapter 10 - Watching the Star and Letting the Adult Self-Destruct in Style

Calling her “husband” would work better than anything else.

Cheng Muye thought quietly, her face calm and indifferent. “If you don’t want to write it, then don’t.”

Tang Anhe pouted, feeling wronged. “But my sister will be angry.”

Because she cared, she took those words seriously. Even as a top actress, she listened like a child.

Cheng Muye frowned slightly, a twinge of bitterness rising in her chest. She didn’t like Tang Anhe always saying “sister.” She wanted Tang Anhe’s heart and attention to belong only to her… but she knew these things took time. At least she had the advantage of closeness.

The room Song Qiluo had prepared for her was right next door to Tang Anhe’s. Pressed against the wall at night, she could even hear Tang Anhe muttering to herself while struggling over the self-criticism: “…Regarding this matter, I extend my deepest apologies. I was reckless, impulsive, speaking without thinking…”

Even Song Qiluo would find it hard to read a self-criticism of that quality.

Lying in bed and listening to the corner, Cheng Muye chuckled softly and then opened Weibo.

Tang Anhe had previously logged into Weibo on her phone but hadn’t logged out. Seizing the chance, Cheng Muye changed the username again… Falling Leaves of the Great Tang.

Just three minutes later, the update set Weibo abuzz.

“Did the actress change her Weibo name again? Was her account hacked?”

“Does this name mean something… or am I reading too much into it?”

“Watching the star self-destruct in style. Haha, this time the naming level has improved!”

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Cheng Muye scrolled through her phone with boredom. Half an hour later, the night still long and sleepless, she tossed the device aside, leaned against the wall, listening to the faint sounds from next door before finally turning to get off the bed.

Knock.

She knocked lightly on the door, but it swung open immediately. A hand reached out, pulling her inside.

“Brother Cheng, you finally came.” Tang Anhe smiled like a triumphant cat, her bright eyes glinting mischievously. She led Cheng Muye to the vanity, urging, “Good brother, I knew you’d help me. Hurry, write my self-criticism letter. Oh, and mimic my handwriting… I’m tired of copying it. I want to sleep, I’m exhausted.”

She had just returned from the studio, eaten, and then retreated to her room to stubbornly tackle the self-criticism. But since she really didn’t want to write, she muttered to herself on purpose, hoping to irritate Cheng Muye into helping and, apparently, her plan had worked.

What she didn’t realize, however, was that this was purely her one-sided, self-righteous scheme. Cheng Muye had deliberately waited until very late, intending to finish it for her so she could claim the bed and spend the night pressed against her warm, soft body.

She got her wish.

By the time Cheng Muye finished writing the 2,000-word self-criticism for her, it was already midnight. Using tiredness as an excuse, she simply lay down on the actress’s large bed. Soft, fragrant, and completely intoxicating.

Tang Anhe, just out of the shower, wore a pale purple chiffon nightgown that clung to her curves. Her long hair hung wet down her back, dampening the fabric and accentuating her alluring contours even more.

Cheng Muye lay on her side, propped on one elbow, quietly taking in the scene. This is what they mean by a beauty fresh from the bath, she thought.

Tang Anhe didn’t think much of it. Noticing her lying on the bed, she frowned slightly. “Brother Cheng, why haven’t you gone back yet?”

Cheng Muye raised an eyebrow, a trace of cold mockery curling her lips. “Burning bridges? Beating the donkey once it’s done the work?”

There was a faint edge of threat in her voice.

Tang Anhe, recalling her cousin’s respect and courtesy toward her, immediately wilted. Damn! She couldn’t risk offending her. Thinking quickly, she forced a bright smile, her voice brimming with flattery. “How could it be? It was just a tiny accident. Being able to share a bed with Brother Cheng is truly a blessing of a lifetime.”

Cheng Muye’s expression softened as she listened. She glanced at Tang Anhe’s still-damp long hair and said, “Grab a dry towel and wipe your hair. Then get in bed.”

Tang Anhe nodded eagerly, opened the wardrobe, and pulled out a clean towel. A mermaid was printed on it, seeming to leap and dance with her every movement as she dried her hair, almost as if it were alive.

Cheng Muye forced herself to focus on the mermaid pattern, but her eyes betrayed her, fixating on Tang Anhe’s swaying softness. Her lavender nightgown was so thin that a glimpse of pale skin beneath became visible.

She watched, burning with impatience, heat surging through her whole body. This restless agitation came from the frustration of seeing what she couldn’t have, and from the anger at her own complete lack of self-control.

So completely useless!

Cheng Muye licked her lips, swung her legs off the bed, and poured herself a glass of cold water. She drank quickly, the loud “gulp” echoing in the quiet room.

Tang Anhe froze mid-dry, and when she looked up at the sound, her gaze landed on Cheng Muye’s slightly prominent Adam’s apple. The motion of drinking made it especially noticeable… and oddly alluring.

“Ah! Brother Cheng, you have an Adam’s apple!” she exclaimed, abandoning the towel and rushing over, eyes sparkling with delight at this new discovery. “Can I touch it?”

A wave of warmth, carrying a faint scent of bathwater, washed over her.

Cheng Muye seemed momentarily captivated and subtly nodded, feeling Tang Anhe’s small, warm hand glide over her Adam’s apple. Being taller, she could look down and take in the view before her. Tang Anhe was breathtaking. She swallowed dryly, drew in a sharp breath, closed her eyes, and savored the delicate, unfamiliar touch.

Tang Anhe herself felt a strange new sensation… part novelty, part unexpected excitement. Cheng Muye’s Adam’s apple was small and delicate, her neck long, slender, and graceful, her lips still glistening from the water under the light.

She had never loved her lips more than she did at that moment.

She wanted to kiss her.

Tang Anhe clicked her tongue, blushing, withdrew her hand, and sat on the bed to dry her hair.

Cheng Muye slowly opened her eyes, coming back to her senses as if waking from a dream. She glanced at the person on the bed drying her hair, said nothing, and turned to leave. As she opened the door, she heard Tang Anhe call after her, but she didn’t stop. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to stay—it was that she dared not. If she slept beside her tonight, she feared she wouldn’t be able to control herself and might give in to her primal desires. The cost would be too great, and it would ruin her entire plan.

“Xiao Cheng?”

Outside the door, Song Qiluo had just finished showering, her hair still damp. She wore a pure white robe, open wide at the chest, revealing a patch of pale skin. Seeing her, she hurriedly adjusted the robe and smiled slightly. “Why aren’t you asleep yet? I just saw Anhe’s Weibo name change again, so I came to see what’s going on.”

Cheng Muye thought for a moment and replied, “It’s nothing to do with her. I changed it.”

Song Qiluo paused, then gave a faint smile. “I can see that you take very good care of Anhe.”

“Miss Tang is a big star. Serving her is my honor.”

“You could also say it’s because Anhe is obedient and charming, which makes me happy.”

Cheng Muye’s expression tightened, picking up a subtle undertone in her words. Had she been too eager, letting her thoughts slip? Song Qiluo wasn’t as naive as Tang Anhe. She had spent enough time in the entertainment industry to read people better than anyone. Perhaps she had indeed been impatient.

While she pondered this, Song Qiluo spoke again. “It’s late. Go to bed. You’ll be busy tomorrow.”

“Do you have any arrangements?”

“Anhe just won the Best Actress award. I originally wanted her to rest for a few days, but she gets bored and causes trouble. Tomorrow, I plan to send her to shoot an ad.”

“Oh.” Cheng Muye nodded and returned to her room without further question.

Seeing her retreat, Song Qiluo pushed open her cousin’s door and stepped inside.

Tang Anhe, having overheard the conversation outside, quickly tossed the towel aside, pulled the covers over herself, and pretended to sleep. Her pose was far from elegant, short legs tangled in the blanket, clutching a large plush, occasionally mouthing it.

She was overdoing the act.

Song Qiluo couldn’t help but smile wryly, sat on the edge of the bed, and said directly. “Don’t pretend to sleep. Get up. I need to talk to you.”

Tang Anhe ignored her, frowning and maintaining the charade.

Song Qiluo didn’t get angry, instead, she even smiled gently, clasping her hands together so tightly they creaked.

Tang Anhe instantly panicked, springing up and crawling to the inner side of the bed, muttering, “You can see for yourself. I’ve already finished the self-criticism.”

Song Qiluo shook her head in exasperation. “Actually, I didn’t come to talk about that. But since you brought it up, I still need to say something. Tang Anhe, can’t you think a little? If you put some thought into your words and actions, today’s mess wouldn’t have happened.”

Tang Anhe half-kneeled on the bed, lowering her head obediently. “Yes. It’s my fault.”

Always the same—like a pig unafraid of boiling water!

Song Qiluo restrained her irritation, remembering her purpose for coming tonight. She exhaled, took the towel Tang Anhe had discarded, and dried her hair as she asked, “You spent the day with Cheng Muye. What do you think of her? Can you rely on her?”