The Movie Queen Always Wants to Kiss Me - Chapter 43 - She Didn’t Even Bother Pretending

Tang Anhe avoided her gaze, lowering her head with a guilty conscience. She lay sprawled on the beach, fingers digging into the warm, fine sand, smooth under her touch, though slightly heated by the sun.

Seeing her playful antics, Cheng Muye’s heart, which had already been softening, hardened once more.

Did she truly think she could bend her? Did she imagine herself indispensable?

She pondered for a moment, then deliberately ignored her.

Snorting, she said, “Then just lie there and let the world admire your beauty.” Pushing her wheelchair forward two steps, she suddenly feigned alarm. “Hey, who are you? You can’t take pictures!”

A reporter?

Tang Anhe jumped back in shock, brushing off the sand then looked around. There was no one. No reporters, no cameras.

Had she been fooled?

Anger flared.

She limped forward, stretching her arms to block Cheng Muye’s path. “Why did you lie to me?” she demanded.

Lie?

Could such a small ruse really be called a lie?

Cheng Muye ignored her and continued moving forward. Tang Anhe’s frustration grew. She stepped in front of her again, her voice sharp. “Brother Cheng, what do you mean by this?”

Was she playing dirty? Throwing a tantrum?

A trace of mockery flickered in Cheng Muye’s eyes. “What do you think I mean?”

“You think that if I don’t get along with you, I’m going to set clear boundaries? Just like you admitted in your messages—you only wanted my body. And now that you can’t have it, you don’t even bother pretending anymore.”

What the hell was going on?

Wait… text messages? What text messages?”

Cheng Muye’s frown deepened, her tone sharp. “What text messages? When did I ever text you?”

“On the day you were discharged from the hospital!” Tang Anhe snapped.

“What text messages?”

Was she seriously refusing to admit it?

Tang Anhe’s anger boiled over. She yanked her phone from her bag, quickly flipped to the message thread, and thrust it toward her, finger pointing.

“Look! You sent me this! You don’t have any real feelings for me. You just want my body. How could you do this? This is too much!”

She unleashed a torrent of complaints and accusations, then turned sharply and stalked away. Her emotions were in a whirl—completely unrestrained.

Was she really arguing like this? Wasn’t it embarrassing? It almost looked like she was begging for Cheng Muye’s attention.

“Stop!”

Cheng Muye growled, pushing her wheelchair forward to catch up. She had seen the messages and misunderstood everything.

The truth was, after her hospital discharge, Cheng Muye had left her phone behind. Shen Si had picked it up and brought it to her.

She had only wanted to resolve a problem and hadn’t checked for any signs that the phone might have been touched. It was her mistake!

So all this time, Tang Anhe had ignored her because of those text message?

Cheng Muye snapped sharply and quickly pushed the wheelchair to catch up. Seeing those few text messages, she immediately realized that a misunderstanding had arisen between them.

She remembered that after she was discharged, her phone had been left at the hospital and taken by Shen Si. When she asked him to deliver it, he did.

At the time, she only wanted to get rid of the hassle and hadn’t thought much about it, nor had she checked whether the messages had been tampered with. That was her mistake!

So, Tang Anhe ignoring her that night… was it because of those messages?

Cheng Muye went over the situation in her mind, already piecing together the misunderstanding. She caught up to Tang Anhe and gently took her hand.

Lowering her head, her eyes red and brimming with quiet indignation, she looked both aggrieved and pitiful.

Sigh! Such an immature child, still sulking and throwing tantrums over the smallest things—truly unbelievable.

Cheng Muye sighed softly, holding her hand a little tighter. Tang Anhe’s slender fingers were smudged with dust, and traces of fine yellow sand lingered beneath her nails. Noticing this, Cheng Muye tugged gently at the hem of her skirt, brushing away the dirt, and whispered, “Tang Anhe, listen carefully. I didn’t send those texts.”

Tang Anhe’s fingers trembled at her words, and her voice betrayed her shock. “What?”

Cheng Muye looked up at her, meeting her confused gaze, and explained slowly, “On the day I was discharged, I left my phone at the hospital. Shen Si took it. Those texts you saw weren’t from me. He must have seen the messages you sent and replied maliciously. Later, he returned the phone and deleted the records.”

“Huh… not from you?” Tang Anhe frowned, her cheeks heating as she realized her mistake. All this time, she had misunderstood.

But what did Cheng Muye truly think of her? Did she like her for who she was? She was beautiful, yes, but always causing trouble and now, she had misjudged her. Could she still care for her?

Cheng Muye had no way of knowing Tang Anhe’s swirling thoughts. She continued to hold her hand firmly, her dark eyes unwavering. “So, Tang Anhe, do you believe me? Those text messages weren’t from me, they don’t reflect my true intentions.”

Of course she did.

Tang Anhe recalled the moments Cheng Muye had protected her, especially the times she shielded her from danger. Even when blood had dripped from her body, she had spoken softly to her. “It’s nothing. Don’t cry. You look awful when you cry. Remember who you are.”

She had always had Tang Anhe’s best interests at heart. How foolish Tang Anhe had been to misunderstand her. She was so clueless.

Tang Anhe blamed herself as she watched Cheng Muye bend down, gently lifting her skirt to examine her ankle. Her slender, pale right ankle was red and swollen, clearly sprained.

She saw the frown crease Cheng Muye’s forehead, a mixture of self-blame and heartfelt concern. In that moment, Tang Anhe felt a spark of realization:

Oh my god, what a remarkable person she had met! She cared for her, protected her, doted on her, and perhaps… even truly loved her.

Her heartbeat quickened at the thought.

“Ba-dum, Ba-dum, Ba-dum.”

It pounded like a drum in her chest. Afraid Cheng Muye might notice, Tang Anhe instinctively stepped back.

Cheng Muye was checking her ankle. Seeing her fidget, she quickly scolded, “Stop moving! It’s already red and swollen. Let’s go back and apply some medicinal ointment.”

Tang Anhe immediately calmed down, her face flushing like a ripe persimmon, and she murmured, “Brother Cheng, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Cheng Muye frowned at her words and pressed, “Are you in so much pain that you can’t feel it? Then take off your shoes.”

Obediently, Tang Anhe slipped off her high heels, revealing her small, delicate feet. They were pale and soft, with pink toenails like tiny blossoms scattered across the sand.

Cheng Muye’s heart raced at the sight. She quickly averted her gaze and took the shoes in her hands.

“Let’s get back to the car.”

“Okay.”

“Be careful while walking.”

“Got it.”

Tang Anhe responded happily, sensing a change between them. Something had dissolved, and something new was beginning to take root.

Of course, it didn’t take long for her to realize the truth: a misunderstanding had vanished, and love was beginning to bloom.

Lin Yue was already waiting in the luxury car. The moment she saw them return, she hurried over to help Cheng Muye.

But Tang Anhe quickly waved her hands, refusing the assistance. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it!”

Cheng Muye cast a glance at her swollen ankle and murmured in a low voice, “Be good, just sit in the car.” Her body was still heavy with fatigue; if she strained her foot again, Cheng Muye knew she would feel distressed all over again.

Unaware of Cheng Muye’s concern, Tang Anhe felt only a pang of disappointment. Her face clouded, and she sat into the car with a sullen air.

A minute later, Cheng Muye followed and sat beside her.

Tang Anhe immediately reached for her arm, leaning her head naturally against her shoulder in quiet dependence. The moment her body touched Cheng Muye’s, she realized just how much she had missed her presence. Calm, safe, reassuring.

Unconsciously, she clung a little tighter, her eyes narrowing as if she were slightly tipsy.

Cheng Muye lowered her gaze to the dark crown of Tang Anhe’s head. Her lips parted, yet she said nothing. She probably didn’t even realize how much she cared.

Oh, what a muddleheaded, sweet girl.

Lin Yue drove them straight to Yu Zhaoning’s villa.

Yu Zhaoning herself didn’t seem to be home. Uncle Xiang, the old butler, came to help Cheng Muye down.

“Young lady has matters to attend to. Miss Cheng, please don’t worry for the next couple of days. If you need anything, just let me know.”

Cheng Muye gave a slight nod. “What is she busy with?”

“She went abroad.”

“For painting?”

“I’m not certain. She left rather hurriedly.”

Cheng Muye didn’t press further and simply changed the subject. “Bring some medicinal ointment to my room.”

“Miss Cheng, are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, just bring it here.”

Uncle Xiang could tell she didn’t wish to continue the conversation, so he quickly bowed and left to carry out her order.

Tang Anhe had also gotten out of the car, tiptoeing her way over with small skips.

Cheng Muye frowned, her voice low with disapproval. “Walk slowly. Don’t you care about your foot?”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Alright, you said it yourself. But if you dare scream in pain when I apply the ointment later, You’ll know how I’ll deal with you.”

Deal with me?

Tang Anhe’s heart skipped, a blush rising on her face. She mumbled shyly, “Then be gentle, and I won’t cry.”

Cheng Muye wasn’t in the mood for teasing. Without dwelling on it, she turned to tell Lin Yue to rest for the night, then wheeled herself back toward her room.

Tang Anhe tiptoed inside behind her. The room was the same as before, except the large double bed was now dressed in dark blue silk quilts and sheets, giving off an air of cool elegance.

She sat down, the fabric cool and smooth against her skin, and couldn’t help but lean back, even rolling over once. Last time, she had wanted to try lying on the bed, but with Yu Zhaoning present, she hadn’t dared.

Cheng Muye noticed how comfortable she looked, her eyes and brows brimming with smiles. The corners of her lips lifted as she asked, “Do you like this bed?”

Tang Anhe nodded eagerly. “It’s silk. I heard this kind of quilt is the best for the skin.”

She had long wanted to buy one herself, but real silk was costly, and with Song Qiluo managing all household matters, she had little say in such things.

From her wistful tone, Cheng Muye could tell she didn’t own any. She wasn’t sure whether it was heartache or something else, but one thought quietly surfaced: If she were mine, I’d give her anything she wanted, even the stars and the moon. She deserves to be spoiled.

“Knock, knock—”

Lost in thought, Cheng Muye was startled by the sound at the door.

“Come in,” she said. The door opened to reveal Uncle Xiang with a tray. On it were ice, a towel, and medicinal ointment.

“Uncle Xiang is always so thoughtful.”

She smiled, thanked him, and dismissed him with a wave. Taking the tray onto her lap, she wheeled herself closer, ready to apply the ice and medicine.

Tang Anhe, lying on the bed, instinctively stretched out her legs when she saw her approach. But the moment the towel-wrapped ice pressed against her swollen ankle, she jerked back with a sharp gasp. “Ah—it hurts, it hurts! Brother Cheng, please… gentler, just a little gentler.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Cheng Muye muttered.

“No, it really does hurt!”

Seeing tears glisten in her eyes, Cheng Muye unconsciously softened her movements. She held the back of Tang Anhe’s foot firmly, just enough to keep it steady while pressing the ice against her ankle. Yet even so, Tang Anhe kept trying to pull away.

Such a delicate child.

Even when she’d been bitten by a dog, she hadn’t acted this pitifully.

Unaware of Cheng Muye’s doubts, Tang Anhe went on feigning pain. “Cheng… Brother Cheng, it hurts. Please, more gently, more gently.”

But Cheng Muye had already seen through her. She tossed the towel aside and scoffed, “Tang Anhe, stop overacting, otherwise I will really make it hurt.”