The Movie Queen Always Wants to Kiss Me - Chapter 32 - You Just Need to Believe in Me

Tang Anhe began to pucker, her rosy lips forming a perfect, kissable curve.

Cheng Muye caught herself admiring the sight, a wry thought flickering through her mind. Even now, in the midst of pain, she could still indulge in such fantasies. Truly, she was someone who could be consumed by desire.

She hadn’t seen Tang Anhe in days, and longing gnawed at her. Every detail, her soft body, her delicate fragrance, was a subtle poison. If her arms weren’t injured, she would have pulled her into a tight embrace, savoring the closeness.

But her arms were wounded.

The scratches stung with the slightest movement, forcing her to restrain herself. All she could do was extend her fingers lightly, brushing against Tang Anhe’s warm, soft lips, savoring the fleeting contact.

Alas, it was far too brief.

Tang Anhe recoiled slightly, eyes wide. “Uh… Brother Cheng?”

Cheng Muye remained composed. She slowly withdrew her hand, leaned back against the pillow, and whispered, “Have you missed me these past days?”

“Yes… of course.”

Every day. Every night.

She covered her mouth just in time, stifling the last words before they could escape.

Saying it that way would sound too strange, and she couldn’t mention their nightly intimate encounters. If she found out that she had been treating her like a man, teasing her in bed in all sorts of ways, it would be over. She would definitely storm off in anger.

Tang Anhe’s panic made her quickly change the subject. “Brother Cheng… how about you? Did you miss me?”

Cheng Muye remained silent, and the sudden stillness pressed heavily on the room.

Tang Anhe felt a pang of sadness. The thought that Cheng Muye might not have missed her much filled her with a strange mix of self-consciousness and bitter longing.

“No?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper, her watery eyes searching her face.

Cheng Muye caught her gaze, and a slow smile softened her features. She leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Tang Anhe’s forehead.

The touch was warm, tender, and lingering, setting a faint fire on Tang Anhe’s skin.

Tang Anhe’s eyes widened. “Huh… Brother Cheng?”

Cheng Muye’s smile deepened, her voice gentle yet certain. “Do you know what a kiss on the forehead means?”

“No… I don’t.”

“I will protect you.”

Tang Anhe listened, confused, her eyes flickering with doubt. “What do you mean? Protect?”

Cheng Muye didn’t explain further. Her tone turned firm, unwavering. “Tang Anhe, trust me. I will keep you safe. No one will be allowed to hurt you.”

“Brother Cheng?”

“Just trust me. Only me. You just have to believe in me.”

Tang Anhe frowned, confusion clouding her features. “I don’t quite understand, Brother Cheng. What exactly are you trying to say?”

Cheng Muye didn’t answer directly, her tone casual as she shifted the topic. “Anhe, I have a question for you.”

“What question?”

“You’re a movie queen. Your status isn’t ordinary. Yet there are so few people around you to take care of your food, clothing, shelter, and transportation. Don’t you find that… unusual?”

Tang Anhe hesitated, then answered lightly, “Why would that be strange? My sister opposes extravagance and doesn’t want me spoiled by the luxurious lifestyle of the entertainment industry. We keep things simple. Besides, quality matters more than quantity. I have more than enough people around me.”

Cheng Muye knew it was just an excuse, a carefully crafted shield meant to fool Tang Anhe.

Cheng Muye felt a surge of disgust, her eyes darkening with irritation. Tang Anhe trusted Song Qiluo far too much, and those she trusted blindly were the ones who could hurt her the most. If Song Qiluo had truly turned against her, Tang Anhe would have been betrayed without warning, even losing the money she had been entrusted with.

“Just trust me,” Cheng Muye repeated, her voice low, insistent.

Don’t trust anyone.

She withheld the rest of her thought, clenching her fist, straining her wounded arm with a wince of pain.

Tang Anhe immediately reached out, cupping her arm and blowing on it to soothe the sting. “I want to trust you, but you just left without even saying goodbye—”

“I didn’t mean to,” Cheng Muye replied hurriedly, her tone brushing over the sweetness that threatened to surface.

Tang Anhe felt it anyway, the warmth in her chest, yet she masked it behind a deliberately stern expression. “Then why did you leave without a word?”

“I met a friend.”

“What friend?”

Speak of the devil, and she appears.

Yu Zhaoning hurried into the ward, her pace urgent. Perhaps because she had come so quickly, her delicate face was flushed, and sweat dotted her forehead. She took a few deep breaths, then asked with concern, “Muye, how are you? What did the doctor say?”

Cheng Muye looked up, momentarily surprised to see her, before offering a faint smile. “I’m fine. What brings you here?”

“I saw it on Weibo,” Yu Zhaoning said, her eyes sharpening with intensity. “You’re incredible! You actually fought off a dog! You’re famous now! Even Mr. Che—”

“How am I famous?” Cheng Muye interrupted, her tone cool, her smile tightening. “Yu Zhaoning, calm down.”

Yu Zhaoning caught the warning in her words and felt a sudden surge of grievance. She had rushed over, worried for her safety, only to be met with such coldness. Her emotions spiraled, and she cried out in frustration, her voice tinged with panic. “Cheng Muye, do you know what could have happened? That dog might have been infected! If you’d contracted rabies… it’s deadly, like cancer, practically no chance of survival. How could you risk yourself like this?”

Her words were slightly exaggerated, yet Tang Anhe felt a deep pang of discomfort. She had always feared dragging Cheng Muye into trouble, and now her own guilt surged as she listened to Yu Zhaoning.

She looked up at the woman, intending to speak, but Yu Zhaoning’s sharp gaze cut through her, eyes blazing with hostility. “Miss Tang, you’re a big star. This isn’t the place for you. When I arrived, I saw reporters downstairs. I suggest you leave.”

Tang Anhe’s apology caught in her throat, her cheeks flushing as she felt a wave of intimidation. She had always been met with kindness, and this strong, uncompromising presence left her momentarily overwhelmed.

“I… I didn’t mean to.”

“You’re nothing but trouble! Anyone who crosses paths with you ends up in chaos,” Yu Zhaoning snapped.

Cheng Muye had had enough. Her patience snapped, and she growled, sharp and controlled, “Enough! Yu Zhaoning, if you’re here just to spout nonsense, you can leave now!”

“Brother Cheng—” Tang Anhe, worried that her presence might damage their friendship, quickly stepped in to mediate. In a gentle voice, she said, “Brother Cheng, please, be polite. This sister is only worried about you.”

Cheng Muye know this all too well, yet she refused to accept them. If Yu Zhaoning’s concern were purely out of friendship, it would have been fine. The problem was that her feelings were far from innocent, and Cheng Muye had no intention of letting her become entangled or make foolish mistakes because of her.

Tang Anhe, unaware of the depth of Cheng Muye’s reasoning, continued gently, “Sister, don’t be angry. Brother Cheng is hurt, and it’s natural to be in a bad mood.”

She truly was a kind and innocent girl.

Yu Zhaoning gazed at the girl before her, so intent on smoothing over the tension between them, and felt an unexpected twinge in her heart, laced with a strange sense of amusement. She had always assumed there was mutual affection between them, yet it turned out that Cheng Muye had been quietly pining all along. Just how deeply must one care to maintain such a fragile boundary, carrying a one-sided love in silence for so long?

Suddenly, an overwhelming surge of jealousy welled up in her heart.

She realized, with a sinking heaviness, that she had truly lost. It hadn’t even begun, yet it was already over. And still, she refused to accept it. She and Cheng Muye had known each other for twenty years, sharing countless days of sincere affection—shouldn’t that childhood bond have blossomed into something deeper? How could she lose to a shallow, big-breasted trophy?

No matter how reluctant Yu Zhaoning was, she kept her composure, her voice calm and measured. “Miss Tang, please go back first. The reporters should be arriving soon, and with you here, I’m sure it’ll make headlines again.”

Cheng Muye, wary of Yu Zhaoning’s temper and unwilling to let her linger, echoed firmly, “You should go back first. We’ll call you later.”

Tang Anhe hesitated, reluctant to leave, but seeing the depth of history and familiarity between them, she realized her presence might only complicate matters. With a touch of self-awareness, she lowered her gaze and quietly stepped aside, a hint of unhappiness shadowing her features.

She didn’t go far, merely to a bench outside the ward, where she sank down, her thoughts scattered and her heart heavy. Yu Zhaoning’s arrival had reminded her that Cheng Muye had a world beyond her reach, a life filled with family, friends, and connections she could never enter.

Her mind dwelled on the subtle undertone of hostility in Yu Zhaoning’s words, and a vague, unsettling sense that Cheng Muye might be slipping away gripped her. Panic surged through her chest, leaving her terrified.

Fortunately, it eased moments later when a group of people approaching from a distance caught her attention.

The man who arrived was Shen Si, flanked by a dense line of bodyguards.

Yet the bodyguards were clearly not there to protect him—they were respectfully escorting the elderly man he supported. The old man, in his seventies, leaned lightly on a silver cane, his gait steady. His face was lined with age, but his bald head made him look younger, and his complexion glowed with health. Most striking were his eyes—still sharp, still gleaming.

Although Tang Anhe wasn’t deeply involved in the business world, she recognized this powerful financial figure. She knew him well, was even familiar with him. The Cheng Empire spanned countless industries, and she had endorsed many of its products.

Just as she stood, about to greet him, Shen Si, supporting Cheng Letian, smiled gently and placed a finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet.

“Mr. Cheng—” Tang Anhe’s words caught in her throat as she noticed the old man glance at her with indifferent eyes, as if she didn’t exist, before entering the ward. Suddenly, the long-circulated rumors of the entertainment industry came to mind: the Cheng family, though immensely wealthy, flaunted their aristocratic air, clung to tradition, and looked down on women in the entertainment business.

To them, she was nothing. A woman unworthy of acknowledgment, unworthy of even a nod.

Her self-deprecating thoughts were quickly interrupted by a burning question:

The ruler of the Cheng Empire had entered Cheng Muye’s hospital room. What did this mean?

Cheng Muye was the Cheng family’s young lady?

Then why approach her?

Tang Anhe was startled by this bold thought, her feet instinctively edging closer. She pressed her hands against the door, leaning forward to peek inside, watching the undercurrents stirring within the hospital room.