The Movie Queen Always Wants to Kiss Me - Chapter 4 - It Is Not Beauty That Intoxicates, But the Heart Itself

As expected, Song Qiluo saw the storm exploding across Weibo.

“Video evidence! The newly crowned Best Actress openly disses Gu Zixiao’s acting—and her character!”

“Best Actress and Superstar at odds… battle for Beauty in Turmoil heats up!”

“Superstar Gu Zixiao declines role for “Beauty in Turmoil”: ‘If my senior wants it, as the junior I should give way.’”

The headlines kept climbing the trending charts. Head throbbing, Song Qiluo turned to see Tang Anhe still playing around with the bodyguard, utterly carefree. Her anger surged, and she snapped in a low voice, “Tang Anhe, get over here! Look at the mess you’ve made!”

Realizing her cousin was genuinely furious, Tang Anhe scurried over obediently. One glance at the screen and her temper flared too. “That phony bitch! Did you read it? Still calling me ‘senior’? For heaven’s sake, I’m only one year older than her!”

Song Qiluo nearly lost it. She jabbed a finger at Anhe’s forehead. “That’s what you noticed? She’s twisting it so people think you’re throwing seniority around to bully her! Can’t that brain of yours turn a few more corners?”

“Really?” Tang Anhe pouted, looking pitiful. Then her eyes shifted toward Cheng Muye, who had silently approached. “Bodyguard, is that true?”

Cheng Muye reached out and ruffled her hair. “No.”

At once, Tang Anhe’s spirits lifted. She latched onto her cousin’s arm, grinning in triumph. “See? Even the bodyguard says that’s not what she meant.”

Song Qiluo glanced up at Cheng Muye. The woman’s expression was calm, her eyes deep, her presence steady and commanding. Just a bodyguard, and a female one at that yet her aura felt overwhelming.

“Go wait in your break room. I’ll handle this.” Rising to her feet, she reached for the phone. “Call the PR department. We’re holding a meeting.”

Seeing her cousin already immersed in work, Tang Anhe sweetened her voice. “Sis, you’re the best, so hardworking.” Then, with a cheeky grin, she stuck out her tongue and tugged Cheng Muye toward the door.

Cheng Muye felt the small, delicate hand in hers. It was as soft as the curves of her own chest. Before she realized it, her grip tightened. Tang Anhe let out a startled cry and pulled back with a frown. “You’re squeezing too hard!”

She had forgotten. Tang Anhe was a spoiled darling, a pampered princess raised at the center of affection. Pure, willful, unguarded. Like a blank sheet of paper. Something in Cheng Muye stirred, a dangerous urge that frightened her.

“…Sorry. I’m not used to being around girls.”

Her tone carried no real apology, only a cool detachment. “My family always said that soft hands mean a girl is blessed with good fortune.”

Tang Anhe’s sting vanished at once as her attention shifted. “Eh? Then doesn’t that mean with hands as rough as yours, you don’t have any fortune at all?”

“Maybe.”

There was the faintest trace of sorrow in her voice.

Tang Anhe’s heart softened. Her gaze lingered on those large hands, scarred and weathered, and something tender bloomed inside her.

“That saying isn’t always true,” she said gently, taking Cheng Muye’s hand in both of hers. “Here, I’ll give you one of my favorite hand creams. Use it often, and your hands will be just like mine.”

Cheng Muye did not answer. Her eyes remained fixed on their joined hands. The warmth, the softness, the pale slender fingers tipped with pink polish. They were unbearably beautiful.

And in her mind, her mother’s voice echoed: Beautiful things are always deadly.

Tang Anhe pulled her into her dressing room, though “dressing room” was generous; it was really more of a makeup room. Rows of designer qipaos lined the space, and the full-length mirror by the door reflected a face with slightly sharp, austere features.

Cheng Muye couldn’t help but touch her own face, a flicker of unfamiliarity passing over her. She hadn’t always looked like this; before she turned seven, she had been a delicate little princess. But life had a way of changing everything.

“Don’t think that being naturally beautiful means you can neglect yourself. Girls have to learn to take care of themselves,” Tang Anhe said, clasping Cheng Muye’s hands in hers. As her fingers brushed over Cheng Muye’s face, smooth, cool, and unexpectedly pleasant, she spoke with conviction. Even something this delicate deserved care.

“Mm,” came the cold, clipped response, distant as ever.

Tang Anhe pouted but held back. She sat down and pulled out a box of skincare products she had just bought. “These are from Korea. I don’t know the brand exactly, but they work well.”

Cheng Muye glanced over at the red box and saw a line of Korean text. No wonder she didn’t recognize it.

Feeling slightly self-conscious, Tang Anhe peeked at her out of the corner of her eye. When she noticed Cheng Muye looking back, with that knowing expression, Tang Anhe blushed slightly and mumbled, “What’s with that look? I’m not filming in Korea, you know. I just use the skincare. Do I really have to learn Korean for that?”

Cheng Muye glanced again at the line of Korean text and the elegant woman in the pale blue qipao, then murmured, “This is a product you once endorsed.”

“Me? I endorsed skincare in Korea?” Tang Anhe hurriedly examined the photo of the model. Sure enough, it was her, from three years ago. Flushing with embarrassment, she cleared her throat and muttered defensively, “That’s because I was really popular. I endorsed a lot of things. It’s not that I didn’t have the brains for it.”

Cheng Muye: “…”

Cheng Muye said nothing, letting Anhe inadvertently reveal her own slip.

Tang Anhe didn’t want to dwell on the awkwardness. She pulled Cheng Muye closer to apply hand cream, chatting as she rubbed it in. “This cream is really moisturizing, smells nice, and isn’t overpowering. Don’t you think? Smell it if you want.”

Cheng Muye extended her hand, distant and uninterested. She noticed that Tang Anhe hadn’t even washed her hands first. Forgetful as ever, yet strangely, being cared for like this felt… pleasant.

Cheng Muye’s eyes swept the room and, seeing no extra chairs, an idea came to her. She lifted Tang Anhe onto her lap, instinctively wrapping an arm around her slim waist. A soft fragrance rose from her, subtly intoxicating.

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last long.

“Hey!” Tang Anhe’s hands shook as she wriggled free, frowning. “What are you doing?”

“I was tired of standing. I wanted to sit,” Cheng Muye replied, her expression calm as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“But I’m just applying hand cream to you. What’s wrong with standing for a moment? Besides, you’re my bodyguard.”

“So, I didn’t make you stand. I had you sit on my lap instead.” Her words sounded casual, almost like she was doing it for Tang Anhe’s own good.

Tang Anhe frowned, lips pale as she bit them. Something felt off, yet outwardly everything seemed perfectly normal.

Cheng Muye’s heart raced, though her face remained impassive. She waved her hand impatiently. “Hand cream. Are we done or not?”

“Of course, of course,” Tang Anhe replied, a little flustered. “My sister always says never leave a job half-finished.”

Tang Anhe moved to apply the cream while standing, but Cheng Muye immediately objected. “I don’t like anyone being taller than me. You’d better sit while doing it.”

“Heh, I’m taller than you. First time anyone’s ever complimented my height! Let me check again.” She measured their heights with a mischievous grin. “See? You reach just to my chest. You really are shorter.”

Is that really something to be happy about?

Cheng Muye regarded her for a moment, a hint of disdain flickering across her features at Tang Anhe’s playful silliness, then her expression softened as realization dawned. Sitting down, Tang Anhe’s chest was at eye level; tilting her head slightly, she could see Tang Anhe’s high, full bust perfectly aligned, and her pale, smooth thighs came into view as well.

The scene, from her standing position, was… unexpectedly captivating.

Cheng Muye smiled faintly and drew her hand back.

“Don’t move. I haven’t finished yet.”

“Then come closer. A little closer.”

Tang Anhe, unsuspecting, leaned in, her legs almost brushing against Cheng Muye’s.

Cheng Muye finally felt satisfied, taking a deep breath of her fragrance as a certain thought stirred within her. The silly girl might have short legs, but her figure was exquisite—ample breasts and a rounded rear were no exaggeration. Every time she looked at her slender waist, she couldn’t help but wonder whether her upper body might suddenly crush it.

Yes, such abundance was also a burden. A sweet burden.

Cheng Muye’s mind wandered, and her hands no longer behaved properly. After one hand finished applying, she gently touched her thigh, smooth and delicate, shining with a porcelain-like whiteness. She had been desiring it for a long time.

Tang Anhe’s voice rose sharply, eyes wide with shock. “W-what are you doing? Why are you touching my leg?”

Cheng Muye’s face tinged with a faint flush, her pulse quickening. But her training held firm; her tone remained controlled, cold, and even. “Why are you shouting? Tell me… did my hand move on its own, or was it your legs? Didn’t you say it worked really well?”

That was a convenient excuse.

Tang Anhe didn’t suspect a thing and said softly, “Well, the results wouldn’t show immediately. It takes long-term care.”

“Mm, I was just impatient.”

“Exactly, you were impatient.”

Like talking to a brick wall.

Cheng Muye smiled with a hint of coldness, continuing to touch her with her hand. Warm and tender, smooth as polished metal, the feel was perfect. For a moment, she even thought of tearing off her qipao little by little to fully indulge in touching her.

This time, Tang Anhe didn’t dodge at all. She even asked cooperatively, “So, is it my leg that’s slippery, or your hand?”

Cheng Muye smiled silently, her left hand sliding higher toward the inner thigh, already reaching the upper leg, and perhaps even further.

“Say something!” Tang Anhe got flustered, pushing her lightly, pouting with a supremely spoiled expression: “Just so you know, it’s fine to praise my smooth legs, but if you say my legs are short, I’m going to get angry.”

Cheng Muye flinched slightly when Tang Anhe gave her a gentle push, her body shivering as if waking from a daze. Her hand slid down slowly.

“Hmm, your legs are really beautiful.”

Your whole body is beautiful too… so stunning it makes me want to break the rules. She kept that thought to herself.

Hearing the compliment, Tang Anhe’s eyes lit up. She continued applying hand cream to Cheng Muye’s other hand with careful precision, making sure not a single spot between the fingers was missed. Once done, she massaged and lightly tapped the hands, claiming, “This helps absorption. I’m definitely not taking advantage of you.”

What if I wanted you to take advantage of me?

You’re not taking advantage of me. But I’d like to take advantage of you.

Cheng Muye’s mind wandered, and her eyes shifted slightly as she said coolly, “Anhe, I just remembered. You didn’t wash your hands before applying the cream.”

“Ah? I didn’t? But I’ve already applied it all.”

“My hands have bacteria. You just patted it on for absorption. Wouldn’t your skin absorb the bacteria too?”

It sounded serious.

Tang Anhe hadn’t expected her good intentions to backfire. “I’m sorry. Well… if you wash your hands, I can apply it again.”

“Okay.”

A small smile tugged at Cheng Muye’s lips; she was secretly delighted. This way, she could enjoy the moment all over again.