The Movie Queen Always Wants to Kiss Me - Chapter 23 - Don’t Ignore Me

Cheng Muye had intended only to watch from the sidelines. To her, the verbal sparring between these two was tedious—petty, childish, and laughable. Yet when she saw Tang Anhe cornered, fear flickering across her face, Cheng Muye could no longer stand by.

A few barbed remarks were harmless, but to curse someone with illness crossed the line. So, she stepped forward, her expression cool as frost, and spoke. “Miss Gu, is it? I’m Cheng Muye, Miss Tang’s bodyguard.”

Gu Zixiao’s gaze flickered. Of course, she knew who this was, and she also knew she was a woman. She had witnessed everything that had happened outside the lobby earlier.

“Hello, Mr. Cheng,” Gu Zixiao said smoothly, catching herself just in time before blurting out Miss Cheng. She had no intention of exposing what she knew—not yet.

Cheng Muye, oblivious to her concealed thoughts, let her gaze drift to her chest. Her lips curved into a cold sneer. “I won’t bother greeting you, but I do want to greet your chest. Even from far away, I could hear it singing—‘I don’t want to, I don’t want, I don’t want to grow up.’ The noise was driving me crazy—”

Before she even finished, Tang Anhe finally caught on. She doubled over, laughing uncontrollably. “Hahaha, Brother Cheng, your auditory hallucinations are spot-on!”

A faint, chilly smile tugged at Cheng Muye’s mouth. “Well, my hearing is sharp, for one thing. And her chest does sing quite loudly.”

It was an unmistakable jab at the fact that her chest wasn’t exactly generous.

Gu Zixiao’s face flushed crimson, her breath coming fast and uneven.

Unbothered, Cheng Muye continued coolly, “I don’t think big breasts are bad at all. But small ones certainly have their own advantages. Just look at you, already flat as a board at such a young age, and with all that money too. No wonder people envy, resent, and hate you.”

“You—”

“Ah, but here’s a friendly warning.” Her tone grew mocking. “Next time you go skiing, make sure not to go downhill. Otherwise, if you fall, you’ll end up sliding much farther than everyone else. Having less resistance isn’t always a good thing.”

“Pfft—ha ha!” Tang Anhe burst into laughter again, giving her a big thumbs-up. “Brother Cheng, you’re something else!”

Gu Zixiao was trembling with rage, her chest tight, eyes rimmed red with tears. “Mr. Cheng, is it really appropriate for a grown man to talk to me like this?”

“Inappropriate?” Cheng Muye’s gaze snapped to her, sharp as a blade. Her voice was icy. “Wasn’t it Miss Gu who started all of this?”

“You—” Gu Zixiao choked on her fury, her momentum instantly collapsing.

Cheng Muye, satisfied with the sight, slipped an arm around Tang Anhe and started toward the exit. After only two steps, she turned back with a faint smile. “Miss Gu, let me give you some advice: if you’ve got nothing to offer, don’t go around stirring up trouble.”

That line was nothing short of genius—razor-sharp without a trace of vulgarity, elegant in its bite, brimming with wit and poise.

Tang Anhe practically exploded with delight, awarding her ten thousand silent thumbs-ups in her heart.

The moment they stepped out of the hall, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She clapped enthusiastically, eyes sparkling. “Brother Cheng, you were incredible just now!”

It was praise from the one she cherished most, but strangely, it didn’t bring much joy.

Cheng Muye’s expression stayed cold, her tone flat and distant. “Mm.”

Was she unhappy?

Tang Anhe’s smile faltered. She furrowed her brows, her voice laced with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you upset?” Believing Cheng Muye was angry at her for provoking trouble, she quickly added, “I really didn’t mean to argue with her. I know I can’t beat her at that game, but she was being so unreasonable. I just couldn’t hold back, Brother Cheng…”

“Mm.”

The same cold, detached reply.

Tang Anhe lowered her head, her delicate face crumpling as she bit her crimson lips and whispered, “Brother Cheng, what’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you?”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

The words eased her heart for a moment, but the relief quickly dissolved. Her brows knitted together as she pressed, “Then what is it? Who made you upset—?”

A surge of irritation crashed through Cheng Muye. She snapped, “Don’t ask!”

The sudden sharpness of her voice made Tang Anhe flinch, instinctively taking a step back. She lifted her eyes, stunned, her expression blank. “Huh? Brother Cheng?”

She truly didn’t understand. Her gaze was clear and innocent, like that of a child untouched by malice.

Cheng Muye suddenly felt ridiculous, painfully aware of how absurd her own behavior was.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” she said coldly, striding ahead.

“Huh?” Tang Anhe hurried after her. “Brother Cheng—”

Her short legs carried her quickly to the entrance of the Lotte Entertainment Club.

Night fell, and the moonlight spilled down, casting a silver glow across the ground.

The summer breeze carried a chill. Tang Anhe tugged her coat tighter around her, hesitated, then chased after her again.

“Brother Cheng, what’s wrong? Don’t ignore me!”

Her petite frame and short legs forced her into a near trot just to keep up. When she finally closed the distance, she couldn’t stop in time and bumped squarely into her back, solid as stone, leaving her nose stinging and red.

Cheng Muye quickly turned around. She saw Tang Anhe touching her reddened nose, her eyes glistening as she spoke in a soft, aggrieved voice. “Hey, I didn’t upset you, so don’t ignore me!”

I’m not ignoring you.

I just don’t know how to face you.

Because the person before you—covets you.

Cheng Muye let out a faint sigh. “Tang Anhe, I’m feeling down. Cheer me up, will you?”

She rarely called her by her full name. The abrupt change in topic left Tang Anhe momentarily stunned. “Huh?”

Still, she reacted half a beat too slow.

All the quick wit she had shown earlier while sparring with Gu Zixiao seemed to vanish in an instant.

Cheng Muye repeated, almost helplessly, “Cheer me up.”

This time, Tang Anhe understood. She nodded, hesitated a moment, then asked carefully, “Then… if I manage to cheer you up, will you tell me why you’re upset?”

“Mhm.” The reply came faster than she expected.

Tang Anhe’s lips curved into a grin. She tilted her head, thinking hard for something to lift her mood. “Brother, think about it. Didn’t you just put Gu Zixiao in her place? That felt good, right? It’s been ages since I’ve seen her so humiliated. Just thinking about it is so satisfying.”

Her happiness was always so simple.

A few sharp triumphs in banter were enough to leave her basking in delight for hours.

Yet, truth be told, the two of them were nothing alike.

Different worlds, different upbringings, different values. She wasn’t even interested in women.

And Cheng Muye… Cheng Muye was despicable, harboring one shameless thought after another, always scheming to sully that untouched purity.

She shook her head with a wry smile, melancholy rising in her chest like ripples spreading across a lake. Perhaps she really had inherited her father’s brooding, sentimental nature. How else could she explain this ceaseless tide of springtime sorrow and autumn melancholy that haunted her?

“I’m very unhappy,” she said suddenly. After a pause, she called her name again. “But Tang Anhe, I can’t tell you why I’m unhappy.”

I don’t want to leave you. But I must.

The thought alone sent a sharp, searing ache through her chest.

Tang Anhe noticed the faint redness in her eyes, as though tears were threatening to spill. A bitter ache welled in her own heart, suffocating and heavy.

To her, Cheng Muye had always been unyielding, like a battle-hardened warrior—wounded, perhaps, but never weeping. She didn’t know much about men, but in her mind, they must have been like her: steady harbors of strength, radiating a sense of safety that could not be shaken.

So why did she suddenly seem so fragile?

Tang Anhe drew closer, fingers slipping gently around her hand. Tilting her face upward, she searched her gaze with quiet concern. Her voice came out soft, almost cautious.

“Brother Cheng… why are your eyes red?”

Cheng Muye turned her face away, her voice low and heavy. “I feel sad.”

“What are you sad about?”

“I have no family left.” Her reddened eyes flickered as she blinked, then continued, “My mother is gone. My father too. I have no brothers, no sisters… only myself.”

Being alone was unbearably bitter.

With no family, with no one who truly cared, all her efforts felt hollow and meaningless.

Tang Anhe, herself an orphan, felt a sharp pang at those words. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. Softhearted as she was, she instantly felt a kinship with this fellow outcast. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her, whispering words of comfort.

“I don’t have parents either. I can’t even remember their faces. But my aunt always told me they loved me very much. Even if they’re gone, they’re still watching over me from heaven. Brother Cheng, your parents must be the same. They must have loved you dearly. You’re such a good person, they would have adored you.”

“Maybe,” she murmured.

“You said you have no siblings. Then… let me be your sister, okay? I’ll stay by your side. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

She repeated the word faintly, almost to herself. “Sister…”

But I don’t need a sister.

My feelings for you were far too shameful to speak of. My desire for you was impossible to restrain.

So please, leave me. Leave me to rot in this abyss of sin alone.

Beneath the night sky, at the bustling street corner, Cheng Muye swallowed back her words and reached out to hold her, clutching her tightly, ever so tightly.