After Filming A Lesbian Movie With The Straight Girl I Like - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Make Her Hurt.

Just before Qin Cong’an could say anything, Xu Ling climbed out of bed. Her head tilted unnaturally side to side, stretching her neck and shoulders, before heading into the bathroom to freshen up.

Qin Cong’an looked at the closed door, glanced at the bruises on her arm, and yawned. She was exhausted—no matter how long she slept, it never felt enough.

Good thing it was almost over, she thought, stretching comfortably.

Her phone vibrated again. Qin Cong’an picked it up and answered this time, getting up to get some water. The room was dry, and after a night’s sleep, she was really thirsty.

“There should be four days left until we wrap… maybe five…”

With the sound of the tap running, Xu Ling could clearly hear her voice from outside. Then it gradually faded, too quiet to make out.

Someone else? Or was it that person? She still picked up—sounded the same as before—so no argument, no breakup?

Xu Ling’s mind was a mess. She splashed cold water on her face, rubbing hard until it hurt.

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she stood blankly in front of the mirror for a while before stepping out—only to see Qin Cong’an still on the phone on the couch.

How long is she going to talk? Xu Ling kept her face neutral and walked toward the door. But just as she reached it, she hesitated. She didn’t want to leave like that. So she turned back around.

As she turned, she ran right into Qin Cong’an coming toward her.

Qin Cong’an raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Thought you were leaving.”

Xu Ling ignored her. She heard a male voice from the phone: “Who is that?”

That confirmed it. It’s him. Xu Ling walked past Qin Cong’an and, thick-skinned as ever, went straight to the bedroom and laid on her bed—while she was still on a call with her boyfriend.

“Wait for me a bit,” Qin Cong’an said to her, then sat back on the couch.

Xu Ling overheard her say to the caller, “An actor from the crew… a woman…”

Oh, so it’s fine as long as it’s a woman?

There wasn’t a single spot on Qin Cong’an’s body she hadn’t kissed—especially the ones that made her moan the most. She licked those the hardest.

Qin Cong’an was really something. Completely unbothered, speaking in a calm voice. Why not just tell him Xu Ling’s name while she was at it?

“Xu Ling.”

“…” Xu Ling sat up in shock. Was she talking to her now? Or still on the phone?? But the tone had lowered—it was clear the call had ended.

Still, hearing her own name made her heart skip. One always notices when someone says their name.

Then came Qin Cong’an’s voice: “I don’t know. We’ll see. Oh, and don’t call for the next few days. I’ll be busy. Don’t come pick me up either.”

Xu Ling’s hands went cold. What the hell was this? A check-in from the boyfriend? So now she’s trying to make it look like they’re just “close sisters” on set?

Then why did Qin Cong’an follow her when she almost left? If she wanted to cover it up, she should’ve let her walk away. She wasn’t being careful at all!

Crap. What if he gets suspicious and Qin Cong’an pulls her in as a witness?

She could explode just thinking about it.

But then again, Qin Cong’an probably wasn’t that outrageous. If she dared, Xu Ling could just bury her face in Qin Cong’an’s chest right in front of him. After all, good sisters kiss and hug all the time, right?

Qin Cong’an hung up, brought a glass of water into the bedroom, and placed it on Xu Ling’s bedside table. “Drink,” she said, then went to wash up.

Xu Ling really was parched. She gulped down more than half the glass, then quickly grabbed the book The Dark Room and started flipping through it in a panic.

Qin Cong’an climbed into bed and asked, “Are you hungry?”

“No.” Xu Ling was so filled with tangled emotions her stomach felt bloated. She was anxious—worried Qin Cong’an would bring up the idea of introducing her to her boyfriend.

“Oh.” Qin Cong’an leaned in and hugged her, the smell of medicated ointment still clinging to her skin. Her fingers brushed lightly over Xu Ling’s slender neck.

It tickled, but Xu Ling didn’t flinch. With a straight face, she asked, “What’s this book about?”

“You don’t know?” Qin Cong’an twirled a strand of her hair. “Were you the type who slacked off in school? You’re so pretty—you must’ve started dating really young.”

“…” Changing the subject, are we? Xu Ling said, “I only know a little. The textbooks didn’t cover everything. This book is so thick.”

She’s dodging again, Qin Cong’an thought. So, did she date a lot back then? Especially since she lived abroad with that gorgeous roommate who made her all those desserts and hung out with models all the time? All so beautiful, all with great bodies—no way she didn’t fall for someone.

“It’s about a woman’s life,” Qin Cong’an finally replied.

“…Well, that’s vague.”

“It’s true, though. What, you want a one-sentence summary?” Qin Cong’an said flatly. “A lot happens—revolutions, wars, religion, class conflict. I can’t sum it all up. And honestly, there were parts I didn’t understand.”

Xu Ling flipped through the pages absentmindedly. “I remember she cheated, right?”

“Yeah. That was part of her life too. She loved poetry. Her husband only cared about money and social status. He didn’t understand her.”

“Oh…”

“It’s a life crushed by the merciless weight of the universe,” Qin Cong’an offered. “How’s that for a summary?”

“Not great.”

Qin Cong’an chuckled, nudging her nose against the top of Xu Ling’s head. “You should read it. It’s good. Not just the heroine—every character is vivid and layered, with rich inner lives. It’d help your acting too.”

“I don’t want to. Too many words.” Xu Ling tossed the book onto her lap. Qin Cong’an really is an incredible actress. Xu Ling couldn’t read her at all. Shouldn’t she be feeling tortured like the heroine of the book?

Qin Cong’an stroked her hair and asked, “Do you like stage plays?”

“Never watched one.” Xu Ling only knew Qin Cong’an liked them.

“Director Dong told me one of his producer friends bought the rights to adapt The Dark Room into a Chinese play. But they haven’t started casting yet. No word on when it’ll hit the stage.”

Xu Ling’s ears perked up. “You want to audition?”

Qin Cong’an nodded. “Don’t know if I’ll get in. I’ve never done theater.”

“Who do you want to play?”

Qin Cong’an pointed to a name in the book: “Hicks Campbell.”

Xu Ling was surprised. She’d thought she’d pick the lead.

“Why not the heroine?”

You’re perfect for her. You’d nail her inner turmoil.

“I’m a stage rookie. I won’t be able to land the lead. Besides, I like this character. She’s the wife of the male lead’s coworker—a country woman, uneducated, a little rude, a bit selfish, but she’s really interesting. I’ve never played someone like her.”

All the sarcasm drained from Xu Ling. Listening to her speak, it was like falling into soft yet resilient cotton candy.

Qin Cong’an had ten years in the industry, starred in box office hits, held multiple luxury endorsements, but never once gave off the feeling of being out of touch.

She could vanish for six months to train in martial arts just to make her action scenes more believable. She’d take on all sorts of roles, even small ones, always grounded and committed.

And it wasn’t some public persona—this was who she truly was. Xu Ling had been drawn to her from the beginning because of that rare energy—calm, composed, like she’d lived a thousand lives. Every expression, every movement felt deeply layered—especially on the big screen. No wonder directors adored her.

Xu Ling was speechless for a moment.

Qin Cong’an gently patted her head. Seeing her stare silently, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“You… you’re amazing,” Xu Ling murmured, looking away. What now? I’m hopelessly in love with her.

Qin Cong’an chuckled softly. “That’s all?”

A brief silence.

Qin Cong’an said, “So, if I get cast, will you come watch?”

Xu Ling froze. What was her intention asking that?

“Of course.” And what was her intention saying that? Xu Ling didn’t even know. She just smiled. “You’ll definitely get the part.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Qin Cong’an leaned in, pressing down on her.

Xu Ling’s heart pounded, but Qin Cong’an only reached for the remaining water on the nightstand and drank it.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Qin Cong’an said.

“What question?” Xu Ling was confused. Didn’t I answer it? I said I’d go… but actually, I’m not sure if I really will.

“Did you date a lot in school?”

“…” That question again? Xu Ling had completely forgotten. Unsure how to answer, she turned it around: “What about you?”

Qin Cong’an stared at her for a while before saying, “Xu Ling, you’re no fun.” She turned away, placing the glass on Xu Ling’s bedside.

You’re the most fun, Xu Ling thought, glaring at the back of her head. Then she spotted her neck—her fingers itched. She reached out and gently scratched it like petting a kitten. Qin Cong’an flinched, the movement pulling her shoulder into a beautiful curve.

Looking at her bruises, Xu Ling felt a mix of pain and desire. She’s so sexy even when hurt. I really am hopeless. I can’t stand her… but I can’t stay away either.

Qin Cong’an turned around, straddled her, and pinched her chin. “I was about to stop talking to you just now.”

“Mad at me?” Xu Ling grinned. What’s there to be mad about? “Okay, I’ll answer your question. I dated a lot. From college onward, never stopped.”

Wait. Xu Ling frowned. Should’ve said high school. Or even middle school. Starting from college isn’t impressive at all!

“Oh, I see.” She knew it.

“Yup.” Xu Ling cupped her face and beamed. “So that’s why sleeping with me was so good, right? Wasn’t it great, Qin Cong’an?”

She was being so infuriatingly smug. Qin Cong’an shoved her hands away, turned her face aside to stop that grin, and yanked open Xu Ling’s collar.

Their bodies were already covered in marks. A few more wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

Xu Ling cried out in pain, real tears springing from her eyes. Qin Cong’an was a strange person—sometimes scared of hurting her, sometimes needing to make her hurt.