After Filming A Lesbian Movie With The Straight Girl I Like - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: “Jiejie, why can’t I kiss you?”

Yi Huai didn’t think too much about it.

But Lin Xinnuo had been watching the two of them closely. Since she had been waiting outside Qin Cong’an’s room that morning, she very clearly saw An-jie coming out of Xu Ling’s room—with a sleepy face, wearing a knitted cardigan that didn’t look like hers, the neckline even askew. Normally, An-jie was always meticulous about her appearance.

Could it be… An-jie slept in Ling-jie’s room last night?

Lin Xinnuo was almost terrified by her own guess. But she knew better than to ask or say anything.

They arrived at the rooftop home of Jian Yu and Wen Xi.

The set was still being arranged, so the two actors went to change and get styled. No makeup was needed, so it didn’t take long, but transforming into Jian Yu and Wen Xi still tested the stylists’ skills.

Set decoration took more effort. Director Chang Ning, looking through the camera, noticed several details needing adjustment, so they spent quite a while fixing them.

Liang He walked over and asked Qin Cong’an, “You look like you didn’t sleep well last night—was it to get into Wen Xi’s state of mind for today?”

“Mm.”

Liang He glanced toward Xu Ling: “Xu Ling also looks like she didn’t rest well. Did you two discuss things last night?”

“Of course.”

Liang He nodded in satisfaction. This was how it should be—leads should communicate more. Their bond in the movie was deep. If the actors barely communicated off-camera, it would be hard to convey that on screen—especially for someone like Xu Ling who wasn’t a professional actress.

Qin Cong’an said, “Xu Ling had some thoughts about the birthday scene, and I think what she said made a lot of sense.”

“Great. Once Director Chang finishes up over there, we’ll sit and discuss it.”

So the director, screenwriter, Xu Ling, and Qin Cong’an gathered on the rooftop, holding a meeting under the misty sunlight, refining the scene together.

In the scene, Jian Yu, treating Wen Xi like family, plants a kiss on her cheek.

Wen Xi instantly looks shocked and steps back, clutching her face. Her tone is harsh: “Who taught you to do that?”

“Ah?” Jian Yu is startled, confused but matter-of-fact. “My parents.”

“……”

“What’s the big deal?” Jian Yu snaps back to her senses and reaches out to touch Wen Xi’s face again, only to be dodged. “It wasn’t even on the lips. Why are you so shy?”

Wen Xi’s expression darkens further, but she’s at a loss for words.

Grinning, Jian Yu leans in again. “Jie Jie, have you ever kissed anyone on the lips?”

“…Do you have no shame?” Wen Xi smacks her on the face and storms into the room.

Jian Yu’s face stings a little. She knows that if Wen Xi really wanted to hit her, it’d hurt a lot more.

Still, the slap hurts her feelings more than her face. It’s her eighteenth birthday, after all!

And just moments ago, Wen Xi was singing her “Happy Birthday.” Now she’s getting slapped? The shock hurts more than the sting.

Just because she kissed her? Why such a huge reaction?

Jian Yu takes the candles off the cake, picks it up, and goes to knock on the door.

The person inside refuses to open it, doesn’t say a word.

Jian Yu carefully sets the cake down, then starts banging harder on the door while shouting, “You locked the door again!” Then she just rips the nearly broken door right off its hinges.

Wen Xi sits on the bed, expressionless, watching as Jian Yu carries the door in.

Jian Yu has been living with Wen Xi for over two years now. She trains every day whether she wants to or not, even during her period.

She’s probably genetically strong—tall, with a lot of strength. She could even lift an 80-kilogram corpse and carry it a ways.

Carrying the door awkwardly, Jian Yu says, “What do we do now?”

“……” Wen Xi doesn’t want to speak at all, but she has no choice. She climbs out of bed, grabs a hammer and screwdriver from the toolbox, and starts reinstalling the door.

Jian Yu watches—not the door, but Wen Xi’s face, and the muscles in her arms as she twists the screws.

She gulps and asks, “Why did you hit me?”

Still working on the door, Wen Xi is silent for a moment before saying, “Because you didn’t ask my permission.”

“Oh.” Jian Yu responds softly.

Wen Xi has no idea whether that “oh” meant she understood.

Seeing the door almost done, Jian Yu runs outside to get the cake. Fearing Wen Xi might lock her out again, she just sits on the bed and waits.

Wen Xi finishes and goes to wash her hands. When she comes back and sees the kid staring at her, she sighs, exasperated. “What do you want?”

“Eat cake with me. You bought it for me—you can’t just let me eat it alone.”

“I’m not eating.”

“No way, you have to. It’s my birthday. I’m the boss today—you have to listen to me.” Jian Yu picks the strawberry on top, dips it in frosting, and holds it up to her.

Her eyes are bright. Wen Xi stares for two seconds, then averts her gaze. She clearly won’t give up, so Wen Xi reluctantly opens her mouth.

Jian Yu beams as she watches Wen Xi’s cheeks puff out, then suddenly reaches over and smears some frosting on her nose.

“……” Wen Xi frowns. “Do you want to get slapped again?”

“I’ve seen people do that at birthday parties. Why are you so mad?”

“Then go find those people.” Wen Xi wipes off the greasy frosting, leans against the wall, and glares at the door. “Get out.”

“No.” Jian Yu plops down on her bed and starts eating.

The more she eats, the happier she gets. The cake is so sweet—it’s been ages since she had any.

This is her first birthday since leaving her parents.

Wen Xi didn’t know anything about her except her name—certainly not her birthday.

Jian Yu hadn’t planned on celebrating, but a few days ago she realized she was about to turn 18—legally an adult. Now she could smoke and drink like Wen Xi!

She mentioned it, and unexpectedly, Wen Xi bought her a birthday cake.

Jian Yu was thrilled. She ate over half of it and said, “You really should have some.”

Wen Xi stayed silent.

“I can’t finish it.”

“Put it in the fridge and eat it tomorrow.”

Jian Yu thought if she stepped out to do that, Wen Xi would lock her out again. So she said, “I want to sleep with you tonight. Okay?”

She was asking for permission.

“…Are you sick?”

“What?” Jian Yu was annoyed but didn’t argue. She started acting pitiful. “It’s my birthday. I don’t want to sleep alone.”

“Get out,” Wen Xi repeated.

Jian Yu refused to budge.

Wen Xi tried to drag her out, but strength-wise, she couldn’t overpower the kid anymore.

They lay on the bed, with one person’s width of space between them.

Jian Yu kept staring at Wen Xi.

Wen Xi went from staring at the ceiling to turning her back, snapping, “If you don’t brush your teeth, you’re going to lose them all tomorrow.”

Jian Yu pressed close from behind, her face against Wen Xi’s back.

Wen Xi stiffened and tried to pull away.

“Jiejie,” Jian Yu wrapped her arms around her, asking seriously, “Why can’t I hold you like this?”

“……”

“Jiejie, why can’t I kiss you?”

“……”

“Jiejie, are you really not going to eat the cake? It’s super sweet.”

…

During the day, they shot other scenes. During breaks, they continued discussing the evening’s key emotional scenes, refining them step by step.

“Jiejie,” Xu Ling called out to Qin Cong’an.

Qin Cong’an looked over coolly, “What is it?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to get used to calling you that.”

Xu Ling wasn’t good at saying “Jiejie”—in work settings she’d always used “X-jie.”

“Jian Yu was also calling Wen Xi ‘Jiejie’ for the first time. She’s not used to it either.”

Xu Ling muttered under her breath, “It’s also their first time hugging.”

Though they’d hugged plenty of times already.

Qin Cong’an kept looking at the script, not responding to that.

The props team had prepared three cakes. Director Chang Ning hoped they could finish within three takes and didn’t prepare extras—just enough to give the actors a little pressure.

That push-pull tension—Jian Yu’s innocent yet probing actions, Wen Xi’s inner conflict and restraint—if they shot too many takes, the mood might fade.

They started rehearsals.

Xu Ling held an imaginary cake in one hand and an imaginary strawberry in the other, offering it to Qin Cong’an.

Chang Ning stood by watching: “Your expression is wrong. Emotion is off. Jian Yu should have a hint of innocence and playfulness. You look like you’re about to devour Wen Xi.”

“…I didn’t,” Xu Ling whispered.

Chang Ning frowned, clearly annoyed. She hated hearing actors defend themselves—she could see what was in her expression.

Xu Ling tried harder to get into Jian Yu’s mindset. But why was it so hard?

Suddenly, she realized—her whole excuse about sleeping with Qin Cong’an to help the performance didn’t hold up.

Jian Yu and Wen Xi didn’t feel like two people who had slept together. Their scenes needed to have a sense of unfamiliarity—that’s what made them work.

But Xu Ling couldn’t unsee what she had seen.

Watching Qin Cong’an act, all she could think of was her cold, desire-laced expression when she had been beneath her.

Qin Cong’an was helping her find the right emotional tone.

Director Chang Ning just sighed, saying nothing. Xu Ling wasn’t a trained actress. This scene’s emotions were complex. Xu Ling was almost 24 now—it wasn’t easy to capture the mind of an 18-year-old girl.

But seeing how patiently Qin Cong’an helped her made Chang Ning more reassured.

Sometimes, a good scene partner is more helpful than a director.

Xu Ling almost wanted to cry. She’d thought action scenes were the hardest to shoot—turns out this was way harder. She’d rather roll in the mud for three days than act this kind of scene!

She was sweating from frustration.

But Qin Cong’an remained calm, guiding her through the scene and helping her retrace Jian Yu’s emotional journey.

Xu Ling gradually calmed down, pushing aside her own feelings to fully step into Jian Yu’s perspective.

They had lived together for over two years. Jian Yu had developed some odd feelings for Wen Xi long ago, though she didn’t know what they were.

Maybe it was just closeness to someone who took her in. Maybe she thought of her as family.

Deep down, she knew that wasn’t it. But she could only lie to herself.

Wen Xi’s strange reaction hinted that maybe she felt the same.

Jian Yu used her “innocence” to probe gently.

And Wen Xi’s resistance began to crumble. She knew it wasn’t right, but she couldn’t push Jian Yu away.

She longed to have her near.