After Filming A Lesbian Movie With The Straight Girl I Like. - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: “It Tickles.”

“…” Xu Ling stared at her long, fair neck. Her legs shifted instinctively, as if wanting to follow her in—but she still said, “Maybe not.”

Qin Cong’an didn’t say anything and simply pulled the door shut again.

When she finished her shower and came out, she didn’t say a word or even look at Xu Ling before leaving the room.

Xu Ling stayed lying on the bed, feeling awkward and unsure how things would continue now, only to realize—she had already left.

Her emotions were tangled. Part of her wanted to chase after her and ask her to stay. Another part told her not to.

After Qin Cong’an returned, filming resumed as usual.

Everything went smoothly.

Meng Bai continued to visit the set every day. Whenever she got tired of exploring the city, she would come hang out with Xu Ling. Everyone on set already knew how close the two of them were.

Over the past few days, Xu Ling hadn’t gone to see Qin Cong’an, and Qin Cong’an hadn’t suddenly shown up at her room like last time either.

On the day Meng Bai was heading back to Beicheng, she brought lots of food as a farewell gesture.

“Please take care of Xu Ling from now on,” she said.

Everyone agreed. With Meng Bai’s sunny personality, she made everyone happy, and Xu Ling’s likability rose with it.

A critical night scene was finally completed.

Xu Ling was exhausted. Action scenes were incredibly draining—physically intense, requiring multiple takes, and even when she was wiped out, she still had to perform with the same energy as the first take.

The next three days would be more relaxed scenes, though they had more dialogue.

That day, Xu Ling overheard Qin Cong’an on the phone again.

“Part of the action scenes are done. I bumped into a wall while running and scraped my shoulder a bit… Okay, okay, I know you’re just worried.”

This time no one nearby asked if she was talking to Xie Jing, but Xu Ling somehow just knew it was. It was one of those subtle instincts. After all, Qin Cong’an didn’t usually talk this much unless it was someone she was really close to.

That evening, Xu Ling brought her script and knocked on Qin Cong’an’s hotel room door.

“I’m here to rehearse,” she said as soon as the door opened, raising the script in her hand.

Qin Cong’an turned to the side to let her in, closed the door, and locked it.

Xu Ling’s script was full of notes. She had paid close attention during their meetings. This was her first time playing a lead role, and she was acting opposite Qin Cong’an, directed by Chang Ning. Even if she had no personal feelings for Qin Cong’an, she would still take it seriously.

There was a bottle of red wine on the table. Qin Cong’an asked, “Want a drink?”

Xu Ling nodded. One glass of wine wouldn’t affect their rehearsal.

“Where did this wine come from?” she asked.

“Someone gave it to me.”

“Who?”

Qin Cong’an glanced at her while opening the wine with a corkscrew. “Does it matter?”

“Not really.” Xu Ling lowered her head, pretending to study her script, though she had just been staring at the lean muscles on Qin Cong’an’s arm.

She knew she was asking too much. Who was she to question that? What was the point?

Qin Cong’an handed her a glass of wine. “Your friend left, and now you’re coming to me?”

“What?”

“Was that hard to understand?”

Xu Ling blinked. She really didn’t get what she meant—what did Meng Bai leaving have to do with her coming to rehearse?

“I’m just here to rehearse,” she said.

Qin Cong’an let out a soft laugh, swirled the wine in her glass, took a sip, and narrowed her eyes.

They both drank in silence for a moment.

After half a glass, Xu Ling began flipping through her script, slipping into the role of Jian Yu. Speaking as her character to Wen Xi, she said, “Take a look and see if anything sounds off.”

Qin Cong’an didn’t reply or help, just watched her quietly.

Xu Ling had never studied acting formally. She didn’t have a regional accent, which helped, but she was still worried about her delivery. This scene had a lot of dialogue and required emotional nuance. It was a challenge for her.

She thought once she finished Jian Yu’s lines, Qin Cong’an would help by responding as Wen Xi, but she didn’t. Instead, she just looked at her with an unreadable expression.

Xu Ling averted her eyes, skipped over Wen Xi’s lines, and continued with Jian Yu’s.

When she finally finished the long section, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I wasn’t listening.”

“…” Xu Ling knew she hadn’t come purely for rehearsing, but the blunt response still caught her off guard.

She had been fully in character—and she hadn’t interrupted. Even with her ears blocked, it’d be hard not to hear something.

She set the script aside, picked up her wine glass, and took another sip. “Be honest. Do you think it was that bad?”

Qin Cong’an took a deep breath and tilted her head back, her jawline impossibly sharp and beautiful. With a sigh, she said, “You really did come just to rehearse.”

“Cough!” Xu Ling choked, coughing twice.

Qin Cong’an leaned in and gently patted her back.

Xu Ling gradually calmed down, her eyes slightly reddened from coughing. Qin Cong’an raised a hand to gently wipe away the tear at the corner of her eye.

Xu Ling held her breath. She looked at that cool yet stunningly seductive face—the sharp nose bridge, the tiny beauty mark near her eye. How could someone’s face look like that? It was a gift sent from heaven to earth.

That face leaned in and kissed her eyelashes.

Xu Ling trembled. Her throat bobbed involuntarily. She gently pushed Qin Cong’an back, then pulled down her shirt to expose the shoulder she had scraped during the afternoon’s action scene, frowning slightly as she kissed it.

She had no conscious thoughts—just the overwhelming desire to get closer to her. No matter how shameful it was, she simply wanted to be nearer. Closer.

…

Afterward, Xu Ling started to regret it again.

How could she have done this?

She tried convincing herself she didn’t know Qin Cong’an had a boyfriend, tried convincing herself it was all for the film. But deep down, she couldn’t help but despise herself.

It had felt too good, which only made her guilt worse. She felt like she’d let Qin Cong’an down. Let herself down. Let her parents down. Let morality down. Let the world down.

Then Qin Cong’an leaned in and kissed her cheek, gently turned her face, and kissed her again.

Xu Ling kissed back passionately. She really liked kissing her.

Qin Cong’an paused and lightly traced a finger along her throat. “You and that friend of yours—have you ever slept together?”

“Huh?” Xu Ling blinked. “You mean Meng Bai?”

“I don’t know her name.”

She must be joking. Meng Bai had made quite a splash around the set these days—no way she didn’t know her name.

“How could I possibly have slept with her?”

“Really.”

Xu Ling flipped onto her side and leaned closer, gazing down at Qin Cong’an’s absurdly beautiful face lying flat on the bed. “Why would you ask that?”

“You two seem close.”

“We’re just friends.”

Qin Cong’an looked at her, the corners of her lips curving into a faint, unreadable smile. “We’re just co-stars.”

For a moment, Xu Ling was enchanted by her smile. Then, hearing that last sentence, her clarity returned a little. Her fingers slid over Qin Cong’an’s collarbone as she said quietly, “Exactly. That’s why we’re doing this. I don’t have this kind of dynamic with my friends.”

Qin Cong’an’s smile deepened, but a chill crept into her eyes. She grabbed Xu Ling’s hand, brought it to her mouth, and slipped her finger into her mouth—tongue circling it slowly.

The wet, soft sensation sent tingles all the way to Xu Ling’s scalp.

They had a tacit agreement not to leave visible marks, but under the tank top—where no one could see—her body was covered in traces of passion.

An alarm blared, shrill and piercing.

Xu Ling jolted awake, grabbed the phone beside her. 7:30 a.m.

She breathed a sigh of relief—only to realize this wasn’t her phone. It was a different wallpaper—waves crashing on a beach.

She scrambled to find her own phone, finally realizing she had left it behind last night.

If Qin Cong’an’s alarm hadn’t gone off, she probably would’ve overslept again.

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back into Qin Cong’an’s embrace.

Her usual cool and crisp voice was now sticky and soft: “Are you leaving?”

Xu Ling’s heart pounded wildly. She sounded just like a girlfriend.

She tried to stay calm. “Yeah, I have to meet the crew at eight. What about you?”

“I’m at ten.”

“Then why’d you set your alarm for 7:30?”

“I didn’t want you to get yelled at again.”

She said it so casually, like it was nothing. But Xu Ling’s heart pounded even harder. She was worried… about her?

Her ears were burning.

She turned around to look at the clearly still-sleepy Qin Cong’an. She didn’t look cold at all—more like a soft, fluffy cat.

Xu Ling lowered her head and kissed her cheek, thinking silently: What do I do? I really like you.

She heard Qin Cong’an chuckle lightly.

Xu Ling froze—had she said that out loud?

Then she realized it was just her hair brushing Qin Cong’an’s face.

“That tickles,” Qin Cong’an said, pushing the hair aside and turning over, planning to sleep a bit more.

Xu Ling couldn’t help but snuggle closer, hugging her from behind for a while longer. Finally, when she could stall no longer, she kissed her ear and got out of bed.

She made it to the van on time and headed to shoot the morning scene where she buys buns.

In Director Chang Ning’s vision, the finished scene would be a time-lapse montage—showing Jian Yu buying breakfast for Wen Xi every day, stitched together. So every few days they had to shoot another shot of Xu Ling walking along the same street.

The background stayed the same, but the lighting and flowers would change subtly to show time passing. The post team could do this digitally, but Chang Ning preferred shooting it for real.

After that, she moved on to the next scene, and Qin Cong’an also arrived on set.

Jian Yu was a girl who lost her parents in a storm. They had witnessed a murder and were killed the next day. Jian Yu managed to escape by hiding and using her wits.

She collapsed during her escape and was picked up by Wen Xi.

Jian Yu was a first-year high school student; Wen Xi was twenty.

The killer was never caught. Jian Yu also went missing, and the police assumed the murderer took her and that she was likely dead.

But in reality, Jian Yu had stayed in Fog City all along, hiding in its shadows with Wen Xi—never studying math or physics again, but instead learning the most efficient ways to kill.

Wen Xi didn’t take her in out of pity. She simply couldn’t shake her off.

Wen Xi had never had parents. She’d been raised as a killer from the moment she could form memories. When the people who trained her were killed, she began working alone.

She had no emotions. Her life was simple: accept jobs, train, eat.

After Jian Yu came into her life, two new things were added: training her, and feeding her.