Fake Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 23

“More than just knowing her—we have quite the special relationship.”

Ignoring Zhu Ningyue’s resistance, Jiang Mengxi intimately wrapped an arm around her and planted a kiss on her cheek, leaving behind a faint lipstick mark.

“Yueyue, isn’t that right?”

Though reluctant, Zhu Ningyue had no choice but to admit, “Mhm.”

“Yueyue is still as adorable as ever.”

Jiang Mengxi was thoroughly pleased with her “cooperation” and smiled charmingly.

“Well then, I’ll take my leave first. You two chat slowly.”

With a faintly mocking glance at Ge Jiang, she raised a hand in a casual wave before departing.

As soon as she left, Zhu Ningyue immediately began wiping the lipstick mark off her face, her expression full of distaste and displeasure.

Ge Jiang naturally noticed the look Jiang Mengxi had given her—it seemed deliberately provocative, as if flaunting something.

She couldn’t quite figure out the nature of Jiang Mengxi’s relationship with Zhu Ningyue, but judging by her actions, they didn’t seem like just ordinary friends.

At the moment, Zhu Ningyue was too focused on scrubbing the lipstick mark to notice the shift in Ge Jiang’s expression.

Ge Jiang hesitated internally, debating whether to bring it up. After some thought, she decided she and Zhu Ningyue weren’t yet close enough for such personal questions.

So she chose to remain silent, standing quietly in place.

After wiping for a while and realizing she couldn’t get it all off, Zhu Ningyue simply said, “I’m going to the restroom.”

She hurried off to check her reflection in the mirror, planning to wash it off with water.

By the time she came out, Ge Jiang was already gone.

“Why didn’t she even say anything before leaving?”

Zhu Ningyue had originally intended to explain things once she returned, but to her surprise, Ge Jiang had vanished without a trace.

A sudden pang of unease and disappointment settled in her heart.

Gu Nanxuan and Chou Qing’an walked side by side, and noticing that Jiang Mengxi hadn’t followed, Gu Nanxuan’s expression visibly relaxed.

“If you don’t like her, you don’t have to pay her any attention.”

Chou Qing’an gently squeezed her hand, the affectionate gesture carrying a hint of intimacy.

Gu Nanxuan wasn’t particularly bothered by it—she was more concerned about one thing:

“Did she used to tease you like this too?”

Given Jiang Mengxi’s behavior today, it was hard not to suspect she might have done something similar before.

Moreover, Jiang Mengxi’s flirtations seemed less about genuine affection and more about deliberate provocation.

Though she kept things within acceptable limits—never crossing into outright offensiveness—Gu Nanxuan still disliked the idea of someone like that getting close to Chou Qing’an.

“No,” Chou Qing’an replied. “She was much quieter back in college.”

Gu Nanxuan was skeptical. “She was really quiet before?”

“Probably…?”

Chou Qing’an didn’t know Jiang Mengxi well.

But even if she had been “quiet,” whether intentionally or not, Jiang Mengxi had still managed to charm plenty of people during college.

Many naive girls and boys had fallen head over heels for her.

When news spread that she was going abroad for further studies, quite a few even went through “heartbreak.”

So when Jiang Mengxi confessed to her—both back then and now—Chou Qing’an had always assumed it was just another one of her jokes.

After all, Jiang Mengxi had pulled similar stunts before.

“I think you’ve definitely idealized your memory of her.”

Gu Nanxuan remained doubtful of Chou Qing’an’s assessment.

Chou Qing’an’s eyes curved into a smile. “If you’re so suspicious, how about I take you back to my college sometime? We can ask the PhD students who are still there and see what they think of Jiang Mengxi. How’s that?”

“So you’re introducing me to your classmates now?”

Gu Nanxuan had long wanted to visit Chou Qing’an’s alma mater—she just hadn’t had the chance yet.

“Yes, don’t you want to meet them?”

Qiu Qing’an also realized it had been years since she last visited her mentor. This would be a perfect opportunity to introduce Gu Nanxuan to her.

Very few people knew about their secret marriage.

Apart from their parents and a couple of close friends, only her mentor was aware of the news.

Back when her mentor first learned she had gotten married, she had been surprised for quite a while and insisted that Qiu bring her partner over for a visit.

As for these two classmates who stayed on for their PhDs, though they were on good terms, Qiu hadn’t shared this detail with them.

Gu Nanxuan feigned hesitation. “Well, I’ll have to think about it.”

“Take your time,” Qiu Qing’an said, holding her hand as they walked into the shop. “Right now, we should eat.”

Around 1:30 p.m., after their lunch break, the two returned to the photography studio.

The sun was blazing even hotter now, but a massive camphor tree near the studio cast a generous shade over the area, making it bearable.

The production team had also installed air conditioning in the shop. If not for the need to photograph visiting tourists, this would have been a lovely vacation spot.

With some time to spare, Gu Nanxuan set up the camera just as she had in the morning, readjusting the settings.

Meanwhile, Qiu Qing’an went to the food stall to help Ge Jiang peel fruit, bringing back two cups of juice along the way.

She placed the juice on the table and said to Gu Nanxuan, “If things are slow here later, you can go help Ge Jiang out.”

Although the teams were supposed to operate independently, Ge Jiang was managing the food stall alone, which was far more demanding than their own tasks.

“Alright.”

Gu Nanxuan had no objections.

She noticed a piece of fruit peel stuck to Qiu’s arm and reached over to remove it.

Only then did Qiu Qing’an notice the peel. She naturally extended her arm, smiling as Gu Nanxuan used a wet wipe to clean off the lingering fruit juice.

Viewers in the live stream, witnessing this moment, suddenly snapped to attention:

Why do these two seem so intimate?

Yeah, since when did the award-winning actress and Gu Nanxuan become this close?

I have a bad feeling about this.

Hey, you upstairs, shut your ominous predictions. This must be an illusion—yes, definitely an illusion!

Completely unaware they were still on live broadcast, Gu Nanxuan held Qiu Qing’an’s hand, carefully inspecting it. Only after confirming the entire arm was clean did she let go.

At 2 p.m., the special commercial zone reopened, and the number of tourists had noticeably increased compared to the morning.

The area quickly became crowded.

Due to the scorching heat, Ge Jiang’s food stall grew increasingly popular.

A long line formed at the entrance, all waiting to buy juice.

Ge Jiang was swamped, but fortunately, Qiu Qing’an had helped peel a large batch of fruit in advance.

After juicing, she simply poured it into cups, leaving the packaging and ice additions to the customers themselves.

This way, she could manage the rush.

The tourists didn’t mind. Once they got their drinks, they happily took photos to commemorate the moment.

Even the most ordinary juice was being praised online as if it were heavenly, leaving countless people who hadn’t secured tickets green with envy.

“Excuse me, make way.”

Gu Nanxuan squeezed through the crowd from behind.

The surrounding tourists reacted with mixed expressions but instinctively cleared a path for her.

She walked over to Ge Jiang’s side, picked up a knife and some fruit, and began peeling without a word.

“Thank you.”

Ge Jiang hadn’t expected her to come help and exhaled in relief.

However, she was also concerned about the situation on Qiu Qing’an’s side: “Don’t you need to help out at the photography shop?”

“She can manage for now.”

Gu Nanxuan spoke little, quietly going about her tasks.

From the food stall’s location, one could roughly see the situation at the photography shop.

Ge Jiang glanced over.

Though there were many people waiting at the entrance, they were all orderly.

This eased her mind a little.

Perhaps it was because Gu Nanxuan had a “notorious reputation,” but after the first large group of tourists made their purchases, the number of people lining up gradually dwindled.

The enthusiasm for tourist check-ins also seemed to wane.

“I think sometimes your reputation actually works in your favor.”

Ge Jiang took advantage of a brief lull to whisper to Gu Nanxuan.

Gu Nanxuan, of course, knew what she meant. She lifted her eyes to look at her: “If you’re envious, you could always follow my lead.”

In the entertainment industry, fame is hard to come by, but infamy is all too easy.

An actor only needs to say a few careless words or make a couple of ill-timed gestures, and a swarm of haters will be at their heels, hurling insults.

“Hard pass.”

Ge Jiang went back to squeezing juice, somewhat deflated.

She had worked too hard for too many years to reach this point—she wasn’t about to throw it all away now.

Gu Nanxuan had only said it offhand, knowing full well she wouldn’t take the bait.

After peeling the last piece of fruit, she set down the knife: “I’m heading back. You can handle the rest.”

With fewer people around now, there was no need for her to stay and help.

“Thanks for your help.”

Ge Jiang watched her walk away.

After spending a few short days together, she realized Gu Nanxuan wasn’t the arrogant, disdainful, or ill-natured person the internet made her out to be.

Instead, she found her emotionally steady, tough on the outside but soft on the inside.

People like her were far more comfortable to be around than those who only pretended to be friendly.

“You’re back.”

Qiu Qing’an couldn’t help but smile softly when she saw Gu Nanxuan walk up beside her.

“Perfect timing. I must’ve pressed something wrong—all the photos I took just now turned out blurry.”

She handed the camera to Gu Nanxuan to inspect.

Gu Nanxuan took it, checked the settings, and snapped a couple of test shots before concluding, “You probably nudged the lens.”

She carefully showed Qiu Qing’an how to readjust it.

Her fingers turned the lens while simultaneously pressing the right buttons, fine-tuning the camera’s display step by step.

Qiu Qing’an watched intently.

Once Gu Nanxuan had fixed it and handed the camera back, Qiu Qing’an’s beautiful eyes curved into a smile: “So that’s how it works.”

A breeze tousled a stray lock of hair by her cheek.

Gu Nanxuan instinctively reached out to tidy it but stopped halfway, suddenly aware of how intimate the gesture was.

A quick glance around confirmed that the waiting tourists were either staring in surprise or casting curious glances their way.

Some even huddled together, whispering among themselves—who knew what they were discussing.

Gu Nanxuan calmly lowered her hand and walked back into the shop without another word.

“Did Gu Nanxuan just try to fix the actress’s hair?”

One tourist stole a glance at Gu Nanxuan’s figure inside the shop and quietly asked her companion.

Her companion nodded, barely containing her excitement: “I saw it too. And the actress didn’t even refuse!”

“You don’t think they’re…”

“No way, right? They’ve only known each other for how long?”

“…”

The hushed conversation drifted to Qiu Qing’an’s ears on the wind.

She still wore a smile and slightly raised her voice to say, “I’m really sorry about earlier. The camera is adjusted now, so let’s start taking photos again.”

Most of the tourists stopped their chatter, though a few continued murmuring incessantly.

How could they not be excited about gossip they had witnessed firsthand?

Qiu Qing’an had neither the time nor the inclination to pay them any mind, focusing instead on taking photos for the tourists who stepped in front of the camera.

After snapping a few solo shots and preparing to join a tourist for a group photo, someone suddenly stepped forward from the crowd and loudly asked, “Best Actress, are you really together with Gu Nanxuan?”

Qiu Qing’an paused mid-step. “Sorry, I can’t answer that right now.”

The person persisted, “If you can’t answer, does that mean it’s possible, right?”

Under the earnest, slightly demanding gaze, Qiu Qing’an replied calmly, “If it’s the right fit, then of course.”

This was the first time Qiu Qing’an had ever responded to a question about her love life, and the crowd erupted in an uproar.