The Movie Queen Always Wants to Kiss Me - Chapter 24 - You Are in My Heart

Tang Anhe responded with a light, friendly hug, yet it did nothing to lift her spirits. Seeing how downcast she remained, Tang Anhe thought for a moment before deciding to take her to a KTV to sing.

“Whatever’s bothering you, just sing it out,” Tang Anhe spoke cheerfully, tugging Cheng Muye’s hand as they walked back into Lotte Entertainment Club. The largest venue of its kind in Changqing City, its third to fifth floors were dedicated entirely to KTV rooms.

Though she was technically under Song Qiluo’s supervision, Tang Anhe still indulged in her little escapes. Singing at Lotte was one of her greatest joys. She loved nothing more than reserving a private room, where no one could overhear her, and losing herself in song for hours on end.

She stepped into the elevator, scanned her face for access, and headed straight for her reserved room.

A male attendant came quickly, setting up the sound system, adjusting the microphones, and laying out fruit and drinks.

It had been a long time since Tang Anhe had last sung, and the moment the microphone was in her hand, her eagerness burst out. She launched straight into song:

“You gallant horseman, so mighty and strong, Your steed races like the wind,
Across boundless plains you roam…”

Cheng Muye sat quietly on the sofa, listening. The melancholy that weighed on her heart only grew heavier. She said nothing, simply watching Tang Anhe pour herself into the music. Then, all at once, she reached out, pulled her down beside her, and said, “Sing with me, Brother Cheng. Do you know how to sing?”

“I don’t.”

“What’s there to be afraid of? Just sing freely. There’s no one else here.”

Tang Anhe didn’t care in the slightest how it sounded, so long as she was enjoying herself, that was enough. She clutched the mic, thrust it into Cheng Muye’s hand, and carried on with her off-key wailing. At the climax, she even twisted the lyrics on the spot.

“Brother Cheng, the horse-tamer, you’re in my heart.

I’d melt into your broad chest~”

Cheng Muye’s lips twitched, but the tips of her ears flushed crimson.

This girl would really sing anything!

And she did. No sooner had she finished “Lasso Pole” than she leapt straight into “Little Apple.” The song didn’t require much skill, yet she still managed to embody the very definition of tone-deaf.

“You, you’re my little apple, little apple,

No matter how much I love you, it’s never too much.

Your rosy cheeks warm my heart,

Lighting the fire of my life…”

Cheng Muye thought she wasn’t really singing at all, she was just fooling around, having the time of her life. But instead of stopping her, she simply watched. To her, seeing this girl cut loose with such abandon was endlessly endearing, almost dazzlingly so.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as fun playing alone. Tang Anhe bit open a beer bottle and started chugging straight from it. Between gulps, she laughed, “How can you get hyped up singing without drinking? Hey, Brother Cheng, want a drink? Oh, right, you don’t drink. What a pity!”

Cheng Muye said nothing, simply observing as Tang Anhe downed the beer with such reckless gusto. No wonder she could handle a glass of whiskey at parties without flinching. Her tolerance must have been built long ago.

The truth was, Tang Anhe wasn’t nearly as good at holding her liquor as she liked to pretend. After downing just one bottle, her stomach felt uncomfortably full, her head light and dizzy. She sank down beside Cheng Muye, resting her head against the sofa, pressing the microphone into her hand. Her voice had softened, thick with sweetness and a hint of drunken warmth.

“Brother Cheng… sing for me,” she murmured. “I want to hear you sing.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Come on, just sing. No one’s ever sung for me before.”

Cheng Muye lowered her gaze, staring at her profile under the dim, flickering lights of the private room. The faint glow painted her delicate face in warm hues. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but her cheeks bloomed a rosy pink, like a ripe peach begging to be bitten. Cheng Muye’s hand lifted almost instinctively, but she caught herself, hesitating. After a moment, she only reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her forehead.

Tang Anhe’s long, glossy hair slipped like silk between her fingers, soft, smooth, intoxicating to touch. The simple act sent a faint shiver through Cheng Muye’s chest.

Leaning closer, her voice dropped into a whisper, “Are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk, I’m not drunk… I can still drink.” Tang Anhe rarely had the chance to show off, so there was no way she’d pass it up. She grabbed another bottle of beer, bit off the cap, took a couple of swigs, and turned to her. “Brother Cheng, I’ll drink and you sing. How does that saying go again? Oh, right—‘Brew the new tea over fresh flames; enjoy poetry and wine while youth remain.”

“It’s ‘sing and drink while youth lasts,’” she corrected.

“No poems, just songs, hehe—let’s just set the mood. So, Brother Cheng, sing me a song.”

Cheng Muye didn’t answer right away. Her eyes flicked to the assortment of drinks scattered across the long table—red wine, whiskey, now beer. Mixing them like this could be dangerous. If Tang Anhe actually got drunk…

A mischievous grin tugged at Tang Anhe’s lips. “Brother Cheng, if you don’t sing soon, I’ll force-feed you liquor. I won’t care about your alcohol allergy, you know?”

Care?

That single word stirred something deep in Cheng Muye’s chest. Since her parents had passed, no one had ever truly cared for her… not like this. Her heart softened as she glanced at the half-drunk figure sprawled on the floor. With a small sigh, she bent down and lifted Tang Anhe onto the sofa.

“Have you had enough fun? If you’re done, let’s go home.”

“No! I’m not done yet. We’re supposed to have fun, but you’re not happy. I don’t know how to make you happy, so we’re not allowed to leave until you are.”

Her speech was slurred and incoherent. Cheng Muye frowned, thinking she must be drunk. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk! I can still drink. Oh, right, I still have to sing,” Tang Anhe insisted, swaying slightly on her feet.

She staggered to the floor, grabbed the microphone, and bellowed at the top of her lungs. “When the wine’s gone, lie in that room, when the wine’s gone, lie in that room, there’s a big-boobed girl in that room…”

What on earth were these bizarre lyrics?

Cheng Muye wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Stop singing! If the songwriter heard this, they’d tear you apart limb from limb!”

Tang Anhe pouted and deliberately sang off-key. “The stone paths of Daban City are hard and smooth, the watermelons big and sweet. There lives Brother Cheng with his long legs, his thin lips so handsome. If you marry, don’t marry anyone else—you must marry me. Stride with your long legs, curve your thin lips, give me a French kiss…”

Cheng Muye blinked, utterly baffled by the lyrics.

Determined to prevent further disasters, she snatched the microphone away. “Lady, give this song a rest.”

Tang Anhe, undeterred, looped her arm around Cheng Muye’s neck, grinning slyly. “Then you sing! If you don’t, I’ll keep going. Hmm… I’ll do ‘Passionate Desert’ next. I’ve already got the lyrics ready.”

With just those words, she had Cheng Muye trapped, destined to become the mic hog.

Cheng Muye could sing. Unlike Tang Anhe’s chaotic, playful style, she preferred Cantonese songs, performing each note with precision while infusing her own subtle, emotive flair.

“Still leaning against sleepless nights, gazing at stars on the horizon

Still hearing the violin, weeping and teasing once more

Why only a crescent moon remains in my sky

After this night, all communication ceased…”

Her low, sorrowful voice filled the private room, shifting effortlessly between warmth and melancholy, lingering with a haunting elegance. Every phrase brimmed with emotion, every note executed with meticulous care.

From the very first line, Tang Anhe was stunned. Good heavens—had a singing goddess descended? Had she unknowingly discovered a hidden prodigy?

Oblivious to the astonishment she inspired, Cheng Muye sang with complete sincerity. Every word, every inflection was delivered with focus and tenderness, her gaze soft yet unwavering, as if pouring the deepest corners of her heart into the melody.

“Still speaking of forever, never imagining it was just an excuse. Never realizing we would part ways. Yet every moment, my heart remains hers. She’s like this moon, still silent…”

A song speaks the heart’s truth.

She wondered, watching Tang Anhe intently,  if she could truly understand this song, if she could grasp the depth of Cheng Muye’s feelings, might tomorrow bring a different life?