After Filming A Lesbian Movie With The Straight Girl I Like - Chapter 42

Chapter 42: “Can I kiss you?”

Qin Cong’an had been holding the script the whole time, but she hadn’t read a single word. She glanced at Xu Ling’s empty hands. “Why didn’t you bring one?”

Xu Ling had only thought about it at the last minute, so of course, she didn’t bring anything. She touched her nose and replied, “Can’t I just read yours?”

“Read what of mine?”

“Huh?” Xu Ling looked up, meeting those deep, unreadable eyes. She nearly choked on her own spit and quickly looked away. “Your script.”

Qin Cong’an tossed the script onto her lap. “Read it yourself. See if there’s anything we need to go over.”

Xu Ling flipped through it. Everything was clearly written: entrance, opening remarks, introductions of the main creators. There wasn’t much to go over—maybe just a few questions at the end, but those they could answer themselves.

“Still not done?” Qin Cong’an glanced sideways at her.

“I want some water.” Xu Ling felt like she was about to be kicked out, so she quickly put down the script and tried to find something to keep her lingering in the room a bit longer. She got up and grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the table.

In front of the table was a mirror, and through it, Xu Ling could see Qin Cong’an. She watched her pick up the script Xu Ling had left on the coffee table—and then… lift it to her nose and sniff it.

Xu Ling spun around in shock and looked at her. Qin Cong’an, noticing the stare, lifted her eyes. There was something sharp in her gaze.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking the scent of the perfume,” Qin Cong’an answered calmly. “I can’t exactly walk over and sniff you, right? Got a problem with that?”

“….” Xu Ling leaned back against the table, nearly slipping off. She lowered her head, focused on twisting the bottle cap—but either from her sweaty palms or nerves, she couldn’t get it open.

Qin Cong’an reached out her hand. “Let me.”

“No need.” Xu Ling stubbornly refused. She had never failed to open a bottle cap before—just needed to calm down. Cool down. Breathe. Finally, she got it open and took a big gulp.

Qin Cong’an had already put the script down, crossed her legs, and was watching her. “That thirsty?”

“Mm… dry winter.” Xu Ling grabbed another bottle, opened it, and handed it to her. “You should drink some too.”

Qin Cong’an took it and smiled at her. “Thank you. You’re so considerate.”

Xu Ling didn’t dare respond. That smile sent a chill down her spine.

“Sit.” Qin Cong’an patted the seat beside her. She waited for Xu Ling to sit down before lifting the bottle to her mouth. But as she drank, some water accidentally spilled, running down her chin, neck, and into her collar. “Oops.”

“…” Xu Ling handed her some tissues—well, more like tossed them to her, like she was afraid to get too close.

As she wiped up the water, Qin Cong’an explained, “I put on lip balm. Didn’t want to drink directly from the bottle. That’s why it spilled.”

“Mm.”

“Why didn’t you put any on?” Qin Cong’an stared at her lips. “You keep licking them. It’s dry in the winter—you’ll get lip inflammation.”

Xu Ling clamped her lips shut and bit down, hard. Enough talking! Why was Qin Cong’an suddenly so chatty when just a moment ago she’d been all cold and aloof?

Stop looking at me. Xu Ling picked the script back up, pretending to read. The pages rustled under her trembling fingers.

Qin Cong’an fell silent again. She wasn’t looking at Xu Ling anymore. She leaned back on the sofa, gazing at a small moving black dot above her.

There was a tiny bug darting across the white wall.

Qin Cong’an’s mind was blank, but Xu Ling had crashed in again. What was she really trying to do? She’d run far away, deleted their contact info, yet now she’d come back—was it really just to go over the event rundown?

Or was she hinting at the late-night script readings they’d done every day on set?

“Um…” Xu Ling finally found a way in. “It says here the host will cue us to interact like Jian Yu and Wen Xi. Any ideas on what we should do?”

So she really did come to go over the script. Qin Cong’an let out a breath. “Jian Yu’s chatty. Just pick any topic. I’ll follow your lead.”

Xu Ling glanced around and lifted her water bottle, slipping into character with a look of delight. “Sis, try this—it’s so good!”

Qin Cong’an took it and drank. “It’s average.”

“…” Xu Ling’s rhythm was immediately thrown off. Why did she actually drink from it? Didn’t she just say she didn’t want to drink from bottles with lip balm on? Why now?

Qin Cong’an glanced at her. “What? I’m Wen Xi now.”

“Oh.” Right, that’s what this was. Xu Ling reined in her panic and stayed in character, grumbling, “What do you mean ‘average’? It’s great! What kind of taste do you have? I’m buying another bottle to take home. Hehe.”

“Do what you want.”

“Tch. Just don’t let me catch you sneaking my drinks at night.”

“You wish… Why not take the whole crate?”

“Really? That good?”

“Well, you’re carrying it yourself.”

“….”

Xu Ling suddenly wanted to cry. It had been months since filming ended, summer had turned to winter, yet everything still felt so familiar.

“Sis…”

Qin Cong’an looked at her. “Mm?”

“Can I kiss you?” Xu Ling asked, head bowed, eyes on the script.

For a moment, Qin Cong’an couldn’t tell if she was speaking as Jian Yu or as Xu Ling. She paused, then said coldly, “Do you have no shame?”

Xu Ling couldn’t tell if Qin Cong’an was being herself or Wen Xi either. But her nose stung, and her eyes welled up.

She closed the script and smiled lightly. “So that’s it? Should we cut the last two lines? Might not be appropriate.”

Qin Cong’an: “Cut them.”

“Alright then, Teacher Qin, I’ll get going.” Xu Ling started to stand.

Qin Cong’an noticed how red her ears were—so bright they were as glaring as that little flying bug. What was Xu Ling trying to do? Come and go, toying with her like it was fun?

She suddenly grabbed Xu Ling’s wrist, making her fall back onto the couch. Her other hand moved around her waist, trapping her.

Xu Ling held her breath. It had been so long since they’d been this close.

Qin Cong’an leaned in and smelled her—her favorite scent. Why was she still wearing it? Was it on purpose? Or not?

Qin Cong’an admitted she was drawn in. She was angry, but if Xu Ling would just give her one sign—just one—she wouldn’t care even if there was no apology.

Wait a minute—backstage, sofa, the two of them—Xu Ling suddenly remembered that steamy dream she had the night of the awards show. All the elements were here. Wait, wait!

Why wasn’t Qin Cong’an saying anything?

Xu Ling didn’t dare look at her—then couldn’t help but glance her way. She was just staring at her silently. What did that mean?

Was this a dream?

No. It wasn’t. She’d had a dream once, and she knew the difference. Dreams didn’t have her scent. Or the pressure of Qin Cong’an’s hand on her waist.

Qin Cong’an moved closer, inching forward to share her lip balm with Xu Ling’s trembling lips. Her movements were slow, testing…

Before she suffocated, Xu Ling turned her head away.

She pushed Qin Cong’an off and stood up, yanking the door open to leave.

“Xu Ling.” Qin Cong’an’s voice was icy. “Don’t come bothering me again.”

She fled, slamming the door so hard the sound rang in Qin Cong’an’s ears.

On the coffee table, the bottle of water Xu Ling had drunk from sat there. The more Qin Cong’an looked at it, the more irritated she felt.

Xu Ling’s wrist still ached even by the time she was getting ready to go on stage. Qin Cong’an had gotten thinner, but her strength seemed even greater—was she angry?

They couldn’t go on like this. They shouldn’t be getting close again. Xu Ling knew she’d been foolish. They should draw a clear line. Break it clean. What even was this blurry mess?

Qin Cong’an was right—she shouldn’t bother her anymore. She had to think carefully even about just showing up in her field of vision.

At the press conference, the cast members came onstage one after another. They sat, facing the cameras and journalists.

The program followed the script exactly. The Q&A session was pre-approved—nothing tricky.

But Xu Ling, sitting beside Qin Cong’an, was still extremely nervous. She kept drinking water until she finished the bottle.

She signaled for another. The staff came from Qin Cong’an’s direction, standing between them, and Xu Ling had to turn and face her—yet didn’t dare make eye contact.

During the interaction segment, they reenacted the scene they’d practiced earlier.

When Xu Ling slipped into the role of Jian Yu, she finally relaxed—briefly. The moment she stepped out of character, she was back to licking her lips, dry mouth, drinking water—repeating that anxious cycle.

The event ended smoothly. They followed directions and left the stage.

Backstage, people exchanged polite greetings.

Director Chang smiled proudly at his two leads. “Even after all this time, you two still slip into character so easily. Looks like Jian Yu and Wen Xi really left a mark.”

Liang He asked, “Did you rehearse beforehand?”

“We went over a little bit,” Xu Ling replied instinctively. She glanced at Qin Cong’an and quickly looked away. “But we made some changes too.”

Qin Cong’an merely nodded, her gaze drifting toward the exit—as if she were deliberately showing someone she didn’t want to stay another second.

Director Chang glanced back and forth between them and suddenly got the idea to cast them in a revenge drama where enemies fall madly in love amid absurd entanglements.

After work, Xu Ling slumped in the car seat, finally relaxing—only to hear Yi Huai ask the death question:

“What’s going on between you and Qin Cong’an?”

“What do you mean?”

“The vibe was way off.”

“It’s been a while since we met. Just a bit awkward.”

Yi Huai gave her a suspicious look but couldn’t think of another explanation. “By the way, did you add her on WeChat?”

“…No.”

“You left too early that day. If you’d waited a bit longer and asked, I think she would’ve added you. She may act cold, but after working together for months… She even shared bread with Wen Qian’ning. Such a pity—it’s been months now. It’s probably hard to get close again.”

“Bread?” Xu Ling blinked. Qin Cong’an actually bought bread? She never eats it.

“Yeah, from that place you always stop at when the line’s short.”

On the last day of shooting…? Xu Ling remembered nearly fainting from the heat. On the way back to the hotel, she’d seen the long line at the bakery and thought, These people must really love that bread to line up in this heat.

Qin Cong’an went there too? No way—she must’ve sent Lin Xinnuo. Poor girl.

But maybe… was she planning to share some with Xu Ling too?

Xu Ling turned to the window, exhaled against the glass, which immediately frosted over. She raised a hand to draw something, saw Yi Huai’s reflection, and wiped it away.

“Does Wen Qian’ning still keep in touch with Director Fang?” she asked, trying to distract herself with gossip.

“Huh?” Yi Huai gave her a baffled look, then realization dawned. “You still thought it was Wen Qian’ning?”

“…Wasn’t it?”

Xu Ling had seen Wen Qian’ning go downstairs late at night so many times. Wasn’t she going to meet Director Fang?

Yi Huai shook her head hopelessly. “You really are committing to the ‘dumb beauty’ role.”

What?! It wasn’t? She was just… actually buying stuff?

Xu Ling remembered Qin Cong’an once telling her not to believe baseless rumors…

She clamped her mouth shut. Now she really didn’t dare say anything. Then… what about Qin Cong’an and Xie Jing?

“Huai-jie, I… cough, cough, have a question.” Xu Ling figured she might as well ask. After all, she and Qin Cong’an were “nothing” now. “Is Qin Cong’an… in a relationship?”

Yi Huai gave her a strange look. “Why the sudden English?”

Xu Ling rubbed her nose. She just felt like it was harder to say in her native language.

“You mean with Xie Jing?”

Xu Ling tensed. “Yeah.”

“No idea. Haven’t heard anything. Those two are super private. Not just romance—barely any info about anything.” Yi Huai kept her eyes on the road. “So… maybe yes, maybe no.”

Xu Ling looked back out the window, her lashes falling. Tell me no, she thought. Like you just told me Wen Qian’ning wasn’t involved. Tell me no.

Meanwhile, Qin Cong’an was on a call with Xie Jing.

“Not going back for your mom’s birthday?”

“No. If I get photographed, it’ll be a mess.”

“Then send a humidifier this year. The one at home’s leaking.”

“Alright.” Qin Cong’an appreciated that Xie Jing even picked out the gift—she had no clue what to get.

Xie Jing said, “I saw the press event. You’ve gotten way too skinny.”

“For the role.”

“Eat more now that filming’s over.” She got an impatient “Got it” in return. “Seriously… anyway, what’s up with you and her? Promo arrangement? Feels weird.”

“Who?”

“Don’t act dumb. You fighting?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Change the subject or I’m hanging up.”

“Fine, fine!”

Qin Cong’an listened half-heartedly as he rambled about filming and his mom. She wasn’t interested, but didn’t hang up.

Five minutes later, the call ended. She opened Weibo and checked out clips from the event.

Was I that obvious?

Apparently so.

She set her phone down. She wouldn’t let Xu Ling affect her anymore. She wasn’t someone who couldn’t let go—especially not over just three short months.

Once the trailer dropped, audiences were already eager for the story between the two leads. After the press event, fans started speculating about their off-screen relationship.

“Wait, weren’t they holding hands in their last appearance? Why the cold stares now?”

“Post-breakup promo like: 🧊🔥”

“Don’t lie to me. If this isn’t part of marketing, I’m so shipping them.”

“An was so obvious—wouldn’t even look at her, but when 0 handed her water, she stared at her lips the whole time.”

“You think 0 wasn’t obvious? She’s bubbly on every other show, but next to An she’s nervous, drinking nonstop.”

That last comment even came with a meme—two photos of Xu Ling, one lively, one tense. The contrast was shocking.

Who’s 0? Xu Ling took a while to realize they meant her. What the hell? That’s not me!

But in the photos, she really did look anxious—like a pet afraid of its owner after making a mess.

Xu Ling rubbed her face. She was staring at my lips? They must be mistaken.

She zoomed in on the image. Okay… maybe. But staring doesn’t mean anything. Maybe she just noticed the peeling skin—triggered her OCD or something.

Amid her chaotic thoughts, three days later came the movie interview.

Upon learning Qin Cong’an had already done hers two days earlier and gone back to the set, Xu Ling’s smile faltered—but she just nodded.

“Can we start, Ms. Xu?”

“Sure.”

After some standard questions, the interviewer asked, “Acting alongside a senior with ten more years of experience must be stressful?”

“Stressful…” Xu Ling had felt pressure, but not because of Qin Cong’an’s status. “It was fine. Teacher Qin was always patient and helpful. She never made me feel pressured.”

“Any examples? How did she help you?”

“When I wasn’t sure about an emotional beat, she’d help me break down the character’s relationships and logic…” Xu Ling gradually drifted back to that time.

The interviewer nodded. “And outside of filming? Did she help you then too?”

Xu Ling had been smooth until now—but she paused. She couldn’t let this come off like Qin Cong’an was cold off-camera.

“Well, we had a lot of fight scenes, so of course there were injuries. She gave me this great ointment—really worked. Didn’t even leave scars.”

Yi Huai, standing by, reminded the interviewer to ask more about Xu Ling. Qin Cong’an might be the bigger name, but the spotlight should still be shared.

The interviewer nodded. “One last question about her—Director Chang said the relationship between Jian Yu and Wen Xi goes beyond ordinary friendship. Did you feel something similar with Teacher Qin during filming?”

Xu Ling swallowed the surge of emotion. She asked, “Did you ask her that too?”

“Yeah,” the interviewer blinked. Xu Ling’s tone was… odd. “She said yes.”

“What did she say exactly?” Xu Ling held her breath.

“She said, ‘Of course.’”

Xu Ling let out a long breath, glanced at Yi Huai, and answered, “Me too. Like Director Chang said, Jian Yu and Wen Xi’s bond was special. And to portray that properly, Teacher Qin and I… had some emotional—how should I put it—sparks, I guess? So yes, of course there were.”

Her words flowed smoothly, her tone official and her smile polite—looking very much like the expression Qin Cong’an would wear.

The interviewer nodded thoughtfully, then looked down at their notes. What Xu Ling said made sense. But Qin Cong’an? She’d only said three words:

“Of course there were.”