The Movie Queen Always Wants to Kiss Me - Chapter 9 - Crying Won't Help

Cheng Muye’s kick was swift and brutal, sending the man sprawling to the ground with a scream of pain.

“Murder! Murder! The celebrity’s bodyguard has killed someone!”

“Shut up!” Cheng Muye growled, ready to kick him again, but her arm was suddenly grabbed.

Tang Anhe, eyes red and looking like a delicate little rabbit, whimpered, “Let’s go… the reporters will be here soon.”

Cheng Muye felt an inexplicable pang of regret. Maybe she shouldn’t have done that pointless test. She draped her jacket over Tang Anhe, reached out to rub her head, and half-hugged her to lead her safely out of the crowd.

“Who was that? So handsome! Hero saves the beauty! So romantic!”

“Is the movie queen falling in love? Looks like she’s suddenly getting showered with love!”

“Wow! The cutest height difference! The actress leans gently against the chest like a little bird, and the bodyguard casually wraps arms around her… so sweet. They look perfect together!”

The cheers and exclamations grew louder behind them, and Tang Anhe felt a strange warmth in her chest. She lifted her head slightly, catching a glimpse of Cheng Muye’s sharp chin, thin lips, and slightly cold, handsome features…

If only you were a boy, she thought, a sudden, endless regret filling her heart.

Cheng Muye led her to the mall’s food court and found a quiet dessert café for a short break. They settled into a secluded corner, and the waiter handed them a menu. Cheng Muye took it, scanned the options, and asked, “Hot drink or cold drink?”

Tang Anhe sat across from her, staring blankly, seemingly lost in thought, not responding.

Cheng Muye frowned and tapped the table twice, finally catching her eyes. Slowly, Tang Anhe looked up, her voice calm to the point of being lifeless. “So that’s why you had me wear the suit before. Too bad I only understand it now.”

Cheng Muye paused mid-flip through the menu, letting out an uneasy ‘Hmm.’ Her nerves were on edge… every gesture she made seemed to tug at her heart. She despised her own vulnerability. How could something so superficial, all form and no depth, captivate her so completely, pushing her into one reckless mistake after another?

Unaware of Cheng Muye’s thoughts, Tang Anhe remained calm and composed. “You did it for me, quietly for me. Brother Cheng, you really are a good person.”

A good person?

She’s a good person?

For the first time, Cheng Muye felt embarrassed being called a “good person.” She wanted to tell her, I like your body very much, and I won’t let anyone else imagine things about it.

But if she said that, Tang Anhe would probably dump her drink right in her face.

So, she had to keep up the act of being a “good person.”

Just as Cheng Muye braced herself to continue playing the role, Tang Anhe shifted her tone, grabbed both of her hands, and said in a pitiful voice, “So, good person… really good person, please help me bring back the clothes and handbag I bought.”

Ah!

So all those sweet words had just been to cheer her up.

Cheng Muye wanted to refuse, but the hopeful look in Tang Anhe’s eyes pulled her in. She stood and stepped outside. Instead of grabbing her things, she pulled her phone from a corner, snapped photos of the man who had harassed Tang Anhe, sent them to a friend, and made a call. “Check this person. Feels like they came prepared, deliberately causing trouble.”

A light voice asked over the phone, “You’re going to handle this?”

“Dare to mess with Tang Anhe? Do you think I’ll let it slide?”

“Is that really necessary? Just get her drunk, have some fun, and that’s it. Why make it so complicated?”

“Yu Zhaoning, do you think I’m you?”

“What’s wrong with me? We’re 26, stop dreaming every day! Remember who you are… once you’ve had enough fun, go back…”

The call ended abruptly. Cheng Muye lowered her head, pressing her temples, and returned to the dessert shop once her mood had steadied.

Tang Anhe hadn’t expected her to come back. She sat drinking her drink, tears streaming as she sniffled. When she looked up and saw Cheng Muye at the table, a huge sob escaped, and she buried her face in the table. “Wah… why did you come back so soon?”

Her most embarrassing moment had been completely witnessed.

Cheng Muye: “…”

Cheng Muye roughly guessed Tang Anhe’s thoughts, frowned, handed over some tissues, and asked in the gentlest voice she could manage, “Why don’t you cry in front of me?”

Tang Anhe took the tissues, wiping her tears as she choked out, “No… it’s too embarrassing.” She had tried to hold them back, but sitting there in the dessert shop, the more she thought about it, the sadder she became. One careless moment, and the tears fell.

Cheng Muye grew slightly impatient as Tang Anhe continued to wipe away tears. “What’s so embarrassing?” she asked, her voice tinged with irritation. “You’ve made a fool of yourself in front of me plenty of times before. This one’s no different.”

Tang Anhe looked up at her, eyes still glistening with unshed tears. “Uh… Brother Cheng, are you… trying to comfort me?”

Cheng Muye froze, her expression stiffening for a moment. “Next time you’re upset, don’t bother pretending in front of me,” she said awkwardly.

“But I look awful when I cry. I have to keep up my image,” Tang Anhe mumbled, pouting slightly.

“Fine. Do whatever you want. Forget I said anything.”

A completely hopeless attempt at comforting.

Tang Anhe thought about it but said nothing. She returned to her drink, trying to calm herself. After a few sips, she glanced up at Cheng Muye, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “Why did you come back so quickly? What about my clothes and handbag?”

“You should just wear that. Maybe if you were wearing that, you wouldn’t stand out so much.”

“But the tags aren’t off yet! I can’t wear them!”

“Can’t you ask a store clerk to take them off?”

“They haven’t been washed! I’ll have an allergic reaction.”

So many demands, she thought.

Cheng Muye arched an eyebrow, clearly exasperated. “So spoiled! Honestly, if I left you in some remote countryside, you wouldn’t have half these demands!”

Tang Anhe hurriedly lifted her pale, reddening arm. “I really will have an allergic reaction!”

Seeing the red patches forming, Cheng Muye’s eyes softened. Her voice grew calm but firm. “Fine. Then we’ll go get them together later.”

“I don’t want to go back to that embarrassing place,” Tang Anhe muttered.

“Stop being so delicate.”

“I’m not delicate!” Tang Anhe protested, crossing her arms. “I think I’m brave. I didn’t freeze in front of all those people.”

“You really set the bar low for yourself,” Cheng Muye muttered.

As the two chatted, an online post exploded: “Actress Tang Anhe accused of harassing fans at a shopping mall!”

Someone had filmed the incident, and Tang Anhe’s clash with fans seemed to confirm the headline. The video painted her in a negative light, sparking furious debate online:

“Tang Anhe thinks she’s so high and mighty! Always causing trouble lately!”

“I don’t get it. Why stoop to such petty tricks just for clicks? Can someone explain?”

“Tang Anhe wears a cheongsam more provocatively and stylishly than anyone else. Definitely support her moving into the A/V industry. She’s practically a dream come true for men.”

The comments only grew harsher, with arguments swirling around her figure and outfit.

Back at Anxin Studio.

Song Qiluo sat at her desk, scrolling through the comments on Weibo one by one. She was a mature and rational woman, always able to handle any situation with clarity and order. Yet at this moment, her expression was grave, delicate brows knotted tightly.

It wasn’t the harsh words that troubled her; what worried her was the unmistakable sense that someone was orchestrating all of this from behind the scenes.

Who was scheming against Tang Anhe?

Over the past two years, Tang Anhe had been well protected, hardly ever allowed to go out alone. Aside from filming dramas, shooting commercials, and occasionally attending some business events, there was no other social activity. She believed she had complete control over every aspect of Tang Anhe’s life, yet now, one by one, things were slipping out of her hands. Who could be orchestrating all this from the shadows?

While Song Qiluo pondered the question, Cheng Muye was thinking the same. After receiving Song Qiluo’s urgent “come back immediately” message, Cheng Muye had brought Tang Anhe back. Naturally, she had also checked online during the journey and learned that the mall incident had already blown up on Weibo.

“Sister Song… I’m the one to blame for Tang Anhe causing trouble outside,” Cheng Muye admitted as soon as they arrived.

Hearing her address her as “Sister Song,” Song Qiluo didn’t respond as she would have with “Mr. Cheng.” Instead, her voice remained calm and gentle. “Xiao Cheng, now isn’t the time to argue over blame. The scandal is out, and we need to deal with it. What do you think is happening here?”

Cheng Muye, ever perceptive, paused for a moment before voicing what she had suspected all along. “Earlier, Anhe changed her Weibo name without permission, which led to some netizens slandering her. And now this. Just a normal trip to the mall… Could someone be deliberately orchestrating these incidents?”

Tang Anhe, stepping into the office, immediately hid behind Cheng Muye. Whenever trouble arose, she had the instinct to seek shelter. Even now, under a protective umbrella, she asked anxiously, “Who set this up?”

Song Qiluo didn’t answer. Her sharp eyes flicked pointedly at Tang Anhe before returning to Cheng Muye. “On the way back, I had someone retrieve the mall’s security footage. If it hasn’t been tampered with, the truth will come out soon. Then we can take legal action against whoever started this rumor.”

“I suppose someone got to it before we did.”

Just as Cheng Muye suspected, a few minutes later, Song Qiluo received a message: the mall’s surveillance footage was gone.

It wasn’t that the footage from that day had been deleted; the surveillance system had simply malfunctioned that day.

A coincidence? Too much of a coincidence.

A flash of sarcasm crossed Cheng Muye’s eyes as her voice rang out clearly, “I’ve already sent someone to track down that troublemaker. Once he’s found, the truth won’t be far behind.”

Hearing this, Song Qiluo’s expression softened, allowing herself to relax slightly. She sat back, her gaze sweeping past her peeking cousin before settling on Cheng Muye. In a warm tone, she said, “Xiao Cheng, step out for a moment. I need to talk to Anhe.”

“No!” Tang Anhe exclaimed, instinctively grabbing the hem of the person in front of her. Her eyes wide and pitiful, she pleaded, “Don’t go… I don’t want to be scolded!”

Cheng Muye cast a calm, unreadable glance at the tiny hand gripping her clothes so tightly. Her gaze then drifted upward, taking in the delicate, spring-lit beauty of Tang Anhe’s eyes and brows. Her heart softened, and she spoke, “Sister Song, today’s incident is entirely my fault…”

“Xiao Cheng, stop always shielding her. This girl deserves a scolding!”

“Then scold me. I was the one who brought her out, so I take full responsibility.”

Hearing this, Song Qiluo couldn’t keep pressing onto Tang Anhe either. She furrowed her brows and forced a wry smile. “It’s not that I’m mad she went out, it’s that I’m mad at her for being so foolish! And saying such ridiculous things in front of so many people!”

Cheng Muye nodded. “She was indeed reckless. I’ll make sure to talk to her properly when I get back.”

Why did that feel like a “she’s under my supervision” kind of tone?

Song Qiluo sensed something was off, but after frowning and thinking for a moment, she still couldn’t pinpoint it, so she relented. “Sigh, forget it. Everything happened so suddenly. But—” Her words cut off mid-sentence before she turned sharply to Tang Anhe. “Reflect on the foolish things you said just now! I want a two-thousand-word self-criticism letter on my desk by tomorrow.”

That statement was unmistakably a sword aimed straight at the heart.

Tang Anhe dragged Cheng Muye along as they walked, her face mournful as she lamented, “What should I do? Another self-criticism letter to write.”

Self-criticism letter?

Again?

Cheng Muye glanced at her from the corner of her eye. “Judging by your tone, does that mean you’ve written plenty already?”

Tang Anhe nodded vigorously, lips pouting, still looking pitiful. “Yes… from childhood until now, I’ve written almost a thousand, maybe nine hundred ninety-nine!”

“Why?”

“This is the punishment for doing something wrong! Every time I make a mistake, I have to write one. Heaven knows, I’d rather memorize the lines of three movies than write one of these self-criticism letters.”

Cheng Muye replied flatly, “Hmm.”

Seeing her lack of interest, Tang Anhe couldn’t help launching into a tirade. “Brother Cheng, you don’t understand how exhausting self-criticisms are! You have to outline the whole event, analyze yourself, critique yourself, and then swear and promise never to do it again—”

Cheng Muye caught the deeper meaning behind her words and interrupted, “Stop talking.”

Tang Anhe blinked in confusion. “Why?”

Cheng Muye had already seen through her intentions. Expressionless, she replied, “I’m not going to write it for you.”

Tang Anhe immediately made a pained face and cried out, “Help, help, Brother Cheng, good brother… if I write this self-criticism, I’ll end up haggard, pale, and bald! Can you bear to lose such a beautiful me—”

Cheng Muye stayed unmoved. “Playing the victim won’t work.”

Tang Anhe’s expression instantly changed. Her face blossomed into a smile, and her voice dripped with sweetness. “Good brother, you’re the most handsome, the kindest, you’re a prince, an angel, my guardian.”

Cheng Muye stayed cold and merciless. “Flattery won’t work either.”

Tang Anhe froze for a moment, then ramped up the sweetness even more. “Brother Cheng, good brother… I like you the most.”

“Acting cute won’t work. None of it works.” Cheng Muye said firmly.

Finally, Tang Anhe lost her temper. She let go of the arm she had been holding, and scolded, “Then tell me, what actually works?”