The Movie Queen Always Wants to Kiss Me - Chapter 3 - Stop Being So Stupid

Inside the office of Anxin Studio, Tang Anhe was once again about to face a round of criticism.

She lowered her head, her pale hands nervously twisting the folds of the cheongsam at her slender waist, looking all obedient and pitiful.

Song Qiluo cast her a glance, but the heat in her chest only burned hotter. She was the kind who only learned after stumbling, yet never truly remembered. Within just a couple of days, she would always fall back into her old habit of stirring up trouble everywhere.

She just won’t change!

“Sis, don’t be angry, I was wrong.” Tang Anhe, sensing her about to lose her temper, chose to admit fault first.

Though in her heart, she didn’t believe she was wrong at all. That Gu Zixiao, clearly inferior in both skill and presence, had such awkward acting. If that were the only problem, it would have been tolerable, but she kept imitating her. At every event, she trailed after her; whatever outfit she wore, Gu Zixiao would copy. It was as if she stole her spotlight at every turn. She had only entered the industry three years ago, yet had climbed to the position of a top female celebrity. All thanks to her! Truly a shameless little fox.

Now that Gu Zixiao had risen to fame, claiming she was under pressure was nothing but nonsense. But burning bridges after crossing the river… that was going too far. And to think she even dared to compete for the role in Beauty in Turmoil? That was truly heartless.

One look at Tang Anhe’s puffed-up little face and Song Qiluo already knew what was on her mind. She sighed. If Anhe couldn’t endure the slightest provocation, how could she hope to last in this industry? She had debuted early, was still young, and often spoke without restraint. Back then, people indulged her, treating her bluntness as childish candor, and even praised her innocence. Reporters went easy on her too, calling her genuine and cute. But now that she had grown up, wasn’t everyone simply waiting for her to make a mistake?

As for Gu Zixiao imitating her, the public had already accepted it. If both carried the image of a refined socialite, why should she be the only one allowed to play it? What’s more, Gu Zixiao was doing it even better. Her acting might not be as strong, but in every other aspect, she was no worse.

With that thought, Song Qiluo lost the will to stay angry. Gu Zixiao was a formidable opponent who could not be underestimated, so she reluctantly opened her mouth, her voice dropping into a low warning.

“Gu Zixiao isn’t who she used to be. Watch your words, or you’ll only stir up trouble and provoke backlash. Especially now that she has more fans than you. Be careful, or they’ll drown you in their attacks.”

Tang Anhe frowned, unwilling to yield. “Why should I be afraid of her? Hmph, all she does is rely on her looks to grab attention. Shallow!”

Song Qiluo felt her temper flare again, but before she could scold her, Tang Anhe hurried over with a sycophantic grin. She began massaging her shoulders and back, speaking with exaggerated caution.

“Sis, I think it’s time I changed my public image. I’ve been playing heiresses and classical beauties for years, and it’s exhausting. Besides, audiences crave something new!”

“Oh, spare me. What are you saying… that you want to just play yourself? The dumbest actress in the industry?”

“How can you look down on me like that? Do you think the ‘Best Actress’ title was just empty hype?” Tang Anhe shot back, then quickly softened her tone, carefully choosing her words to coax her.

“Sis, what if I tried a sultry image instead? You don’t know this, but singer Yao Jing started off as the sweet and innocent type, and the audience didn’t buy it at all. Later, she went all out—sexy outfits, provocative dances on stage and she skyrocketed in popularity. Isn’t that a super successful transformation? We could use that as a reference…”

Before she could finish, Song Qiluo cut her off.

“Reference what? A moment ago you were saying others rely on their looks, and now you want to copy them? And ‘skyrocketed in popularity’? Do you even understand what that phrase means? Enough. Don’t embarrass yourself by parading your lack of culture.”

“Ugh, can’t you at least focus on the point I was making?” Tang Anhe grew anxious, dragging Cheng Muye, the bodyguard, into the conversation.

“Hey, bodyguard, if I played a seductive femme fatale, don’t you think I’d blow up? Like, get huge in China first, then worldwide?”

As she spoke, she twisted her waist and hips, striking a few seductive poses.

Tang Anhe was still dressed in a cheongsam that day, a plain white gown embroidered with lotus flowers, complemented by a pink shawl draped over her shoulders. She looked delicate and charming, and the graceful curves of her figure only heightened her allure. She was every bit an enchanting little vixen.

Cheng Muye’s gaze swept over her, finally lingering on her bare thighs. They weren’t especially long, but they were fair and slender. She had never seen skin this pale before, like fresh snow in winter, dazzlingly white, tempting one to seize, to bite, to leave wild traces behind.

“T-that…” Tang Anhe flushed under the weight of her stare, mistakenly thinking Cheng Muye was hinting at her short legs. In a panic, she crossed them, scooting back with nervous murmurs.

“I know my legs are short, but you’re not allowed to say it, okay?”

Her legs were her greatest sore spot. She herself could joke about them, but if anyone else dared to, she would explode on the spot.

Cheng Muye ignored her little grumblings, her eyes still fixed on those crossed legs, throat bobbing slightly as she swallowed, saying nothing.

With no ally in sight, Tang Anhe hastily slipped out of the office and went straight to the dressing room. From the corner, she pulled out a pair of ten-centimeter high heels she had hidden away. This was her secret weapon to make up for her short legs, though she was deathly afraid of heights.

“Sis, don’t stop me. From now on, I’m wearing high heels. Ten centimeters. Look, don’t I look taller now…”

With cautious steps and a timid expression, she approached Song Qiluo as if to flaunt her newly lengthened legs. But before she could take pride in them, her footing slipped, and she tumbled forward.

There was no helping it. Not only was she afraid of heights, but her sense of balance was hopeless.

“Help…”

At her startled cry, Cheng Muye darted forward without a second thought.

What followed was a moment of heady softness.

Tang Anhe’s two soft, full mounds landed squarely against Cheng Muye’s chest. The clash of softness against firmness, tenderness against strength, was an exquisite sensation.

Cheng Muye decided then and there: she ought to encourage Tang Anhe to wear high heels more often. But only in front of her.

“T-thank you…” Tang Anhe stammered, blushing furiously as she tried to steady herself. Her lovely face was flushed bright red, like a monkey’s backside.

“Just… doing my job.” Cheng Muye replied, though her heartbeat was racing. She steadied Tang Anhe with care before quickly stepping back, forcing her voice into composure.

Even after her humiliating fall, Tang Anhe refused to give in. Teetering in her heels, she pressed on with stubborn determination.

“Sis, I’ll wear high heels for walking, and for dancing too. I’ll crush Gu Zixiao with my strength any minute now.”

Song Qiluo rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I didn’t hear a thing.”

Tang Anhe pulled a long face. “Sis, are you really my sister?”

Song Qiluo shook her head mercilessly. “No. I’m your cousin.”

“Then cousin, are you really my real cousin?”

“No. But if you stop being stupid every single day, I’ll call you sister if that’s what you want.”

Tang Anhe felt as though she had taken a million points of damage. Defeated, she kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the sofa.

“Wuu, I want long legs! I want long legs!”

Who could possibly understand the sorrow of having short legs?

In the entertainment industry, every star seemed to have longer legs than her. Sob, sob… especially Gu Zixiao, who was rumored to be 1.75 meters tall, with legs measuring a full 1.1 meters. Truly the definition of long legs, enough to make anyone green with envy!

Tang Anhe was rolling about on the sofa like a spoiled child. Song Qiluo’s patience snapped. She delivered a sharp smack to her cousin’s pert little bottom. The flesh was soft and springy, but the sting was real.

Tang Anhe leapt up like a startled cat, frowning as she turned. “Why did you hit me?”

“With the way you fool around all day, not caring about your image. You think any boy would still treat you like his goddess? You’d ruin the illusion in seconds.”

“If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t behave like this. Don’t believe me? You can test it out.”

“Not interested.”

Her enthusiasm crumpled on the spot. She collapsed back onto the sofa, chin propped in her hands, gaze drifting toward the figure standing not far away—Cheng Muye, her bodyguard.

The woman carried herself with unshakable poise, her black suit sharp and tailored, short hair neatly trimmed. At first glance, she was every bit as striking as the idols that filled the entertainment industry.

Oh, right… those long legs. Those impossibly long legs, right within reach.

Tang Anhe’s eyes lit up. She sprang barefoot from the sofa, circling around Cheng Muye with curiosity, her small hands reaching out to measure and touch.

Throughout her fussing, Cheng Muye stood still, her expression unreadable, neither encouraging nor stopping her. She merely lowered her gaze, watching the girl’s fluffy black head, the sway of her pert hips. Her palms itched; her lips went dry. What kind of spell was this?

Tang Anhe, delighted, measured her legs with great seriousness. By her rough calculation, they were at least 1.2 meters long. The truth was cruel. After three whole seconds of envy and despair, she sighed in pity. Such beautiful legs. What a waste if they weren’t used to seduce people.

Leaning close with a mischievous grin, she whispered, “Hey, bodyguard, ever thought about joining the entertainment industry? I could help you.” She gave her shoulder a playful nudge but given her height, it only landed against Cheng Muye’s chest. Blinking up at her with impish charm, she looked like she was teasing on purpose.

Cheng Muye’s heart gave a violent jolt. She froze, before finally finding her voice. “…Not interested.”

“Why not? The industry’s full of handsome men.”

“Such as?”

“Like Chu Zhen, the Prince of Sweet Songs. His voice is dreamy, like honey. Or Emperor of Acting Zheng Ye. His lips are gorgeous, perfectly shaped. Mmm, his lower lip is fuller, which makes you think it’s perfect for kissing. Oh, and there’s that pianist… what’s his name again? Ugh, I can’t remember. But they’re all top-tier men. Too bad, none of them are mine.”

She really was a lovestruck fool, her taste was all over the place, too.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, irritation pricked at Cheng Muye. She frowned. “So, tell me, which do you prefer more… long legs, or the pretty boys?”

“Long legs, of course!”

“…Hm?”

“With long legs, I’ll have a whole line of pretty boys falling for me.”

Cheng Muye didn’t answer. Her gaze swept over Tang Anhe’s short little legs and suddenly, they seemed unbearably endearing, irresistibly charming.