The Movie Queen Always Wants to Kiss Me - Chapter 6 - She's a Good Girl

Was she implying her chest was small?

Cheng Muye frowned and asked, “Why? You don’t like it?”

Tang Anhe, not wanting to hurt her pride, quickly shook her head. “No, no, it’s just… strange.”

Cheng Muye shrugged. “Strange? I’m 26, and I’ve never had a period.”

“Ah?” Tang Anhe was shocked. “Why?”

Cheng Muye smiled mysteriously. “It’s a secret.”

“What secret? Can I know?”

“Not for now.”

“Why not for now?”

“You ask too many whys!”

“So… what’s the reason?”

“There’s no reason.”

“Why is there no reason?”

Tang Anhe inwardly groaned. This woman was like a walking encyclopedia of a hundred thousand ‘whys.’

Feeling slightly annoyed, Cheng Muye jumped off the bed and walked out of the lounge. She leaned against the corridor wall to smoke, glancing back at Tang Anhe, who seemed torn between following and holding back. That clingy yet cautious demeanor was irresistibly endearing, like a spoiled little cat.

“Just keep playing with the phone quietly.”

She waved her hand, clearly not wanting her to come closer.

“The phone isn’t as fun as you.”

So, she really thought of her as a toy?

What nerve!

Tang Anhe occasionally found herself daring, so she watched her smoke with keen interest, eyes brimming with curiosity. “Is that really smoking? What does it taste like? Does it feel like floating on clouds?”

Perhaps it was because Song Qiluo controlled her too much, suppressing her true nature, that she found everything around her unusually fascinating.

It’s the same old principle. Push something to the extreme, and it flips the other way.

Cheng Muye understood this principle well. Smiling like a sly fox, she pushed the cigarette against Tang Anhe’s lips. “Try a puff.”

Tang Anhe obediently took a drag. The next second, she burst into coughing, choking so hard that tears filled her eyes.

Cheng Muye didn’t comfort her. Her gaze was calm as she said slowly, “You’ll get used to it.”

Eyes red from choking, Tang Anhe whimpered miserably, “If I get used to this, I’ll choke to death.”

Cheng Muye almost laughed but held it back. “Still want more?”

Tang Anhe nodded, her water-bright eyes misty and tinged with pitiful charm. “Isn’t there some kind of cigarette that doesn’t sting like this?”

“Mm.” Cheng Muye gave a faint response. “If you really want, I’ll get you a pack of ladies’ cigarettes another day.”

“Why not the kind you smoke?”

“Too strong. You couldn’t handle it.”

Tang Anhe pouted, unwilling to concede. “I’ve only heard of strong liquor, not strong cigarettes.”

“There are far too many things you’ve never heard of.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Tang Anhe wilted again, muttering dejectedly, “I’ve grown this big, yet I’ve never even held a boy’s hand. Because of filming, I barely went to school and never even received a love letter. I thought once I got older, I’d at least film some romance dramas. But I don’t take bed scenes, and even kiss scenes have to be shot with stand-ins. Honestly, I don’t even understand how someone like me, with such strict standards for myself, has managed to survive in the entertainment industry…”

Consider yourself lucky.

Cheng Muye couldn’t help but feel a flicker of schadenfreude. But then Tang Anhe’s voice suddenly brightened. “Still, it’s good I met you. To be honest, Cheng Muye, at first I really wanted to fire you and get some cute young guy instead. But now I see you’re quite daring, not afraid of sister, letting me play with your phone, even handing me a cigarette. Not bad, not bad, keep it up.”

Cheng Muye: “…”

All at once she regretted ever letting her touch her phone or take a drag.

This girl could be downright infuriating at times.

A wave of resentment rose in Cheng Muye’s chest. She took a deep breath of smoke, calmed herself, then asked, “Why are you so afraid of her?”

“Her? Afraid of her? Who?”

“Song Qiluo.”

“Why would I be afraid of her?” Tang Anhe pouted, then explained, “I’m not afraid of her. I’m afraid of the Empress Dowager backing her.”

“Empress dowager?”

“My aunt.” Tang Anhe nestled against her side, leaning in to catch the drifting scent of smoke between her fingers, and felt the trace of sadness in her heart scatter like smoke.

Seeing how she enjoyed the scent of smoke, Cheng Muye frowned, dropped the cigarette, and crushed it underfoot. The little girl was curious about everything, defenseless against anything new. She couldn’t be allowed to pick up such habits. Cheng Muye had no intention of raising a little smoker.

“Why’d you throw it away!” Tang Anhe protested, pained. “You didn’t even finish it. And littering? That’s so uncivilized.”

Cheng Muye ignored her and changed the subject. “What about your aunt?”

Tang Anhe’s thoughts drifted again. “I lost my parents when I was very young. I was too little to remember them, so I don’t really have any clear impressions. From as far back as I can recall, it was my aunt who raised me. She treated me well. When a talent scout discovered me at four years old, she didn’t trust anyone else, so she took care of everything herself. I was still a child, throwing tantrums whenever she wasn’t around. She had to look after me while also managing all the networking. You know how exhausting it is to be a manager, with irregular meals and endless socializing. Her health was never good to begin with. Two years ago, she was diagnosed with stomach cancer, and lately she’s been going through chemotherapy. How could I dare make her worry? All I can do is be obedient.”

So that was the real reason.

Cheng Muye’s heart softened at her words. She reached out to ruffle her hair, her voice gentle. “Good girl.”

Tang Anhe was indeed a good girl.

Her cheeks flushed red from the praise. Embarrassed, she muttered, “I’m an adult already, not a little girl.”

Cheng Muye’s gaze deepened, her tone suddenly carrying a forceful edge. “If you’ve never been with a man, you’re still a girl.”

How crude!

“Huh?” Tang Anhe frowned in distaste and muttered, “You look like some aloof little pretty boy, so why did your whole vibe suddenly change?”

Cheng Muye had no intention of keeping up a facade of cold, untouchable nobility in front of her. Hearing that hint of disdain in her words, her lips curved slightly, her voice turning cool. “You’ll get used to it.”

Again with the ‘get used to it’!

This was something she refused to get used to!

Tang Anhe grew a little angry, turned her head, and ran into the lounge. She climbed onto the bed, pulled out her phone again, and deliberately tapped into Gu Zixiao’s Weibo page… Fairy of Xiang River. 

Twenty million followers!

Tang Anhe looked on enviously, grumbling nonstop, “Xiang River Fairy, really? What shameless bragging! With a face like a dog-tailed weed, where’s the fairy-like aura in that?”

She had been dissatisfied with that Weibo name for a long time.

But what really bothered her was her own Weibo name… Sugar Coated Hawthorn.

Heaven only knew what had possessed her back then to come up with such a cheap, tacky name!

Truly a self-inflicted disaster!

Tang Anhe opened her Weibo page and saw 15.23 million followers. After a quick calculation, she realized she was still short by five million. Goodness, she hadn’t checked in a while, and the gap had grown far too wide! Grinding her teeth in frustration, she tried to convince herself, “It has to be because my username isn’t domineering enough! Hm, mine has three characters, hers has four, obviously she has the advantage. I need to change my username! Right now! But… to what?”

This was when her lack of education and poor vocabulary came back to bite her.

Tang Anhe scratched at her hair, undoing the carefully styled heiress coiffure until it was a messy tangle, making her look no different from a madwoman.

Cheng Muye lit another cigarette, and when she came back in, she found Tang Anhe with her hair sticking out like a bird’s nest, gazing up at her pitifully.

“Bodyguard, bodyguard, help me think of a Weibo name, won’t you?”

Still calling her bodyguard?

Someone clearly needed disciplining.

Cheng Muye’s face hardened, her voice edged with displeasure. “What did you just call me?”

Tang Anhe instantly lost all backbone, obediently chirping, “Brother, good brother…”

Her mood lifted at that. Cheng Muye walked over, smoothed down Tang Anhe’s messy hair, and asked softly, “You want to change your Weibo name? Why?”

Eyes sparkling, Tang Anhe rattled off her reasoning. “You know that saying, ‘a person lives up to their name’? Look, Gu Zixiao’s Weibo name is Fairy of Xiang River, while mine is just Sugar-Coated Hawthorn. Doesn’t it feel like mine is missing a word? Doesn’t that explain why her follower count is higher than mine? That’s why I need to change it. Make it longer, so I can outshine her by a whole head!”

Cheng Muye thought she was being foolish again and refused to join in on such nonsense. She patted Tang Anhe’s little head and waved her off.

“I understand. Go play on your own.”

Seeing her refuse, Tang Anhe quickly clung to her thigh. “Don’t! I even called you brother!”

“Calling me brother won’t help.”

“Then what will?”

Husband!

The word nearly slipped out of Cheng Muye’s mouth, but she caught herself in time and instead muttered,  “How about Splendor of Tang Dynasty?”

“Too artsy.”

“Glory of Tang?”

“Isn’t that a video game?”

“That’s Glory of Kings.”

“Oh, it still doesn’t feel right. Brother, good brother, can’t you think of something longer?” Tang Anhe half-knelt on the bed, drumming her fists against her leg as she tilted her head up at her. “Brother, focus. More words, crush her flat.”

More words?

Crush her flat?

Cheng Muye’s gaze lingered on the girl’s slender, swan-like neck, her thoughts briefly tangling. She wrenched her eyes away, seizing on the excuse of brainstorming usernames to chase off such distractions.

“Have you thought of one yet?” Tang Anhe pressed impatiently.

“Don’t rush me.”

“Oh, no rush. Take your time, Master.”

After about three minutes, Cheng Muye finally came up with something decent.
“There was once a Princess Anle in the Tang Dynasty. Since your name is Anhe, why not call yourself Princess Anhe of the Great Tang? Longer than hers, and far nobler too… two birds with one stone.”

Tang Anhe considered it, muttering, “Not bad… but it still doesn’t completely crush Gu Zixiao, does it?”

Cheng Muye felt she was being ridiculously picky. A username shouldn’t require this much effort. Losing patience, she waved her off.

“I’m out of ideas. If you’re not satisfied, come up with one yourself.”

Tang Anhe, realizing her goodwill in massaging legs had gone to waste, quickly pulled her hand back and muttered.

“That’s it? Out of ideas already? How weak…”

Smack!

Cheng Muye’s palm landed on her backside. Not too hard, but enough to sting.

“Why did you hit me again?”

“Because you deserved it.”

“You really are out of ideas, but I’m not allowed to say it?”

“Exactly. Not allowed. What are you going to do about it?”

Nothing.

She was taller, stronger, her body’s solid, and her smacks hurt.  What could Tang Anhe do? She wilted, pouted, and scooted toward the center of the bed.

But Cheng Muye immediately regretted it. Feeling a pang of guilt, she pulled Tang Anhe back into her arms, kneading the sore spot gently and softening her voice.

“Did I hit too hard?”

“Mm. A little.”

“Sorry. I sometimes don’t know my own strength.”

“…Not sometimes. You always…”

“You want another smack, is that it?”

“No! No! Don’t hit me…” Tang Anhe scrambled to beg for mercy. But mid-sentence, a sudden spark of inspiration lit her up. She sat up, eyes shining.

“Cheng Muye! I’ve got it! I was fighting Xiao in the Tang Dynasty! How about that for a Weibo name?”

What nonsense was this?

Cheng Muye curled her lip in disdain. “I’ve heard of blowing the flute but never fighting xiao.”

“Right, then I’ll blow the flute! ‘Blowing Flutes in Tang Dynasty’—how’s that? Doesn’t it sound cool, fierce, and over-the-top?”

Not at all. Not even a little.

But Cheng Muye didn’t say it aloud. Instead, she went along smoothly. “Perfect. Suits you exactly.”

She wanted to see whether this girl was truly foolish or merely pretending.

And to see, once she changed it, whether Song Qiluo would tear her apart.