Fake Love with the Movie Queen - Chapter 25

Seeing Gu Nanxuan’s silent expression, Qiu Qing’an could also imagine how distraught Zhou Mei must be on the other end of the phone.

She had indeed acted impulsively this time, without considering Zhou Mei’s feelings.

Gu Nanxuan handed the phone to her: “Sister Zhou just told me to stay out of this—both of us.”

Qiu Qing’an: “That’s what she said?”

Gu Nanxuan: “Mm.”

Zhu Ningyue returned from outside, phone in hand.

“I’ve already asked someone to try and suppress the trending topic for now.”

While the two of them had been on the call with Zhou Mei, she had also contacted her family’s company.

“But it might be a bit difficult.”

After all, Qiu Qing’an’s fame was undeniable, and she had no shortage of devoted fans.

With Gu Nanxuan also involved, no one would pass up such high-profile gossip.

“Thank you.”

Though their relationship didn’t require such formalities, Qiu Qing’an couldn’t help but express her gratitude.

Thinking of Zhou Mei’s instructions, she added, “But my manager might have other plans.”

“I see.”

Zhu Ningyue wasn’t privy to Zhou Mei’s thoughts.

“Then I’ll arrange for someone to coordinate with her. She can give direct orders, and I’ll have the company cooperate as much as possible.”

“Sounds good.”

Qiu Qing’an noted down the number Zhu Ningyue sent and forwarded it to Zhou Mei, briefly explaining the situation.

Zhou Mei didn’t refuse, replying simply: Received.

The Zhu family’s influence in the entertainment industry was substantial. With their assistance, resolving the issue would be much easier.

Such a useful ally was too good to pass up.

Besides, it was also an opportunity for her to expand her network.

With the matter temporarily settled, Zhu Ningyue glanced at the two of them and asked, “Shall we go eat first?”

With Zhou Mei handling the trending topic, they were effectively free of responsibility for now, leaving them with little else to do.

After sending her messages, Qiu Qing’an put away her phone: “What do you two feel like eating?”

Gu Nanxuan: “Let’s just head out and see.”

Zhu Ningyue seemed to remember something: “Didn’t Ge Jiang come back with you guys today?”

“She said she had something to take care of.”

Gu Nanxuan shot her a look.

“Only remembering to ask now?”

“I was busy dealing with your situation!” Zhu Ningyue puffed out her cheeks.

As the three of them walked toward the courtyard gate, they happened to run into Ge Jiang, who was just about to enter.

“Jiangjiang!”

The moment Zhu Ningyue saw her, she perked up instantly, her eyes lighting up.

Ge Jiang smiled at her before looking at the other two. “Heading out?”

Qiu Qing’an: “Yeah, we’re going to grab some food.”

Gu Nanxuan was silently scrolling through nearby restaurants on her phone.

Zhu Ningyue piped up beside them: “Jiangjiang, have you eaten yet? Want to join us?”

“Sure.”

Ge Jiang fell into step with them.

“I just saw the trending topic—are you guys okay?”

Truthfully, she had noticed the commotion at the photo studio earlier that afternoon. But at the time, she hadn’t thought much of it, assuming it was just a minor disturbance.

It wasn’t until she saw the trending topic that she realized what had happened.

Qiu Qing’an said, “We’re fine. Zhou Mei—my manager—is already handling it.”

“Seems like there’s no need to worry too much, then.”

Zhou Mei was a well-known figure in the entertainment industry, and Ge Jiang had naturally heard of her reputation.

What people praised most about her was her exceptional professionalism—every artist she managed was outstanding.

Countless entertainers dream of working under her but lack the opportunity or means.

For her, handling this matter shouldn’t pose much difficulty.

“This farm-style restaurant looks pretty good,” Gu Nanxuan said, handing her phone to Qiu Qing’an.

Last time, Ge Jiang had taught Zhu Ningyue how to use her phone to find nearby eateries, and the others had picked it up too.

The efficiency was indeed impressive.

Previously, they had mostly cooked at home, rarely dining out. Even when they did, they either went to malls or left the arrangements to Zhou Mei.

Qiu Qing’an took the phone, glanced at it, and passed it to the other two. “What do you think?”

“Just tell me the name—I’ll search it up myself,” Ge Jiang said, feeling it inappropriate to handle Gu Nanxuan’s phone, wary of accidentally seeing something private.

Zhu Ningyue, however, had no qualms and took it directly to look.

After some discussion, the four of them decided on the place Gu Nanxuan had chosen.

But unexpectedly, before they even reached the spot, they found themselves surrounded by reporters who seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

“Best Actress, why did you speak up for Gu Nanxuan? Is there some undisclosed relationship between you?”

“Best Actress, how do you respond to the controversies online?”

“Best Actress—”

Frenzied reporters thrust microphones in their faces.

Photographers flanked them, cameras clicking incessantly—more aggressively than during their livestreams.

The moment Gu Nanxuan saw them approaching, she grabbed Qiu Qing’an’s hand and bolted toward a less crowded area.

The shutter sounds grew even more frantic, relentless.

Those left behind weren’t spared either.

“Is there something between you and Gu Nanxuan?”

“Please—”

“Could you comment on—”

A barrage of questions rained down on them.

“Sorry, we’re unaware of the situation. Please stop asking,” Ge Jiang said calmly, accustomed to such scenes as an actress. She shielded Zhu Ningyue, blocking the reporters and photographers from getting too close.

Zhu Ningyue frowned. “If you have questions, contact my lawyer. Every inch of me is covered by high-value insurance. If you so much as scratch me, don’t blame me for taking legal action.”

This wasn’t an empty threat—news of her hefty insurance policies had trended for a while and could still be easily found online.

Gu Nanxuan had once scoffed at this, thinking Zhu Ningyue had too much money to burn on such superficial measures.

Now, the payoff was evident.

At the mention of high-value insurance and lawsuits, the reporters recoiled, terrified of even brushing against her sleeve.

Since they weren’t the main targets, most of the press dispersed after being firmly rebuffed.

Only a handful lingered nearby, hoping to fish for gossip.

Gu Nanxuan and Qiu Qing’an, however, had it much worse. The reporters chased them relentlessly, some even outpacing them.

Just as they were about to be caught, a large crowd suddenly surged forward, obstructing the reporters and creating chaos.

Worried about damaging their equipment, the journalists grew cautious, torn between frustration and the urge to push forward.

But the crowd kept swelling, soon cutting off the reporters from Gu Nanxuan and Qiu Qing’an.

Catching her breath, Gu Nanxuan pulled Qiu Qing’an into a secluded alley.

“Did I just make things worse?”

She had only been thinking about avoiding unnecessary trouble earlier, completely unaware of the consequences fleeing might bring.

Now that she had calmed down, she felt a twinge of regret.

“It’s fine. Even if you hadn’t pulled me along, I would have run too,” Qiu Qing’an said.

In moments like these, staying put and facing the questions head-on would have been the wrong decision.

Entertainment reporters wouldn’t back down easily if they didn’t get the answers they wanted.

If either of them had misspoken, the fallout would have been far worse than simply running away.

Gu Nanxuan thought about it and agreed, but then another thought occurred to her. She raised their still-clasped hands and gestured, “If they saw us like this, wouldn’t it be impossible to explain?”

“Then we won’t explain.”

Qiu Qing’an sensed her unease and tightened her grip on her hand.

“Zhou Mei will handle it. Don’t worry.”

Meanwhile, Zhou Mei, who was busy dealing with the trending hashtag, felt her eyelid twitch inexplicably.

She looked away from her computer, thinking it might just be eye strain. After a few drops of eye solution, she closed her eyes to rest them briefly.

Just then, her phone on the desk rang.

She fumbled to answer it without opening her eyes, assuming it was an update on the task she had assigned.

To her surprise, Qiu Qing’an’s voice came through the phone: “We’re surrounded by reporters here. Get someone from G City to come pick us up.”

“What!?” Zhou Mei’s eyes flew open. “Where exactly are you surrounded?”

Qiu Qing’an gave the address and added, “Nanxuan and I have already gotten away from the reporters for now. We’re in an alley. Have your people call me first when they arrive.”

“Alright then.”

Zhou Mei let out a relieved sigh, knowing now wasn’t the time for complaints.

“You and Gu Nanxuan stay hidden. I’ll arrange for someone to get you right away.”

With that, she quickly hung up and turned to coordinate the rescue.

Reassured by Zhou Mei’s response, Qiu Qing’an relaxed slightly and continued leading Gu Nanxuan forward.

The alley wasn’t wide—at most, it could fit three or four people walking side by side.

The doors of residential houses lined both sides, most of them tightly shut.

Halfway through, one of the doors creaked open, and an elderly woman with a hunched back stepped out.

She carried a basin and poured the dirty water into the gutter by the entrance.

“You two…” The old woman looked up and paused when she saw Gu Nanxuan and Qiu Qing’an. Her gaze lingered on Qiu Qing’an, her slightly narrowed eyes widening a fraction.

“I recognize you. You’re that person on TV… that…”

She struggled to recall for a long moment but still couldn’t remember the name.

“Ah, age is catching up to me. My memory’s no good anymore. I just saw you on TV, and I’ve already forgotten.” The old woman sighed.

Perhaps the reporters had broken free from the crowd, as the sound of chaotic footsteps gradually approached the alley’s entrance.

Gu Nanxuan and Qiu Qing’an didn’t linger to chat with the old woman and quickened their pace.

Sensing they were hiding from someone, the old woman offered, “Would you like to come inside for a while?”

Gu Nanxuan and Qiu Qing’an exchanged a glance and didn’t refuse.

The door creaked shut behind them.

Sure enough, not long after, a few reporters rushed past the alley. But they didn’t spot anyone and soon left the old woman’s doorstep behind.

Inside the house, Qiu Qing’an smiled at the old woman. “Thank you.”

Even the usually aloof Gu Nanxuan added softly, “Thank you.”

“Oh my, no need to thank me.”

The elderly woman was overjoyed to see the two beautiful girls expressing their gratitude, her wrinkles crinkling into a warm smile.

“You two watch some TV for now.”

She gestured for them to sit on the old wooden sofa.

“I’ll get you some water.”

“Please don’t trouble yourself. We’ll just sit for a bit and then leave.”

Qiu Qing’an followed the old woman into the kitchen.

The woman appeared quite advanced in years, her body slightly hunched, and her steps unsteady as she walked.

Qiu Qing’an carefully supported her, but seeing how insistent she was about serving them water, she had no choice but to take the cup from her hands.

“Let me do it myself.”

The old woman watched her pour the water with a beaming smile. “I’ve seen you on TV—several of your shows, in fact.”

Qiu Qing’an smiled politely. “Really?”

“Really! They’re even showing you on TV right now,” the old woman said cheerfully, clearly enjoying the conversation. “Young lady, what’s your name?”

“Qiu Qing’an,” she replied.

The old woman asked, “Which characters are those?”

Qiu Qing’an patiently explained.

The old woman sighed in admiration. “Oh my, that’s a rare surname.”

Indeed, “Qiu” was an uncommon surname. Most people would assume it was the same character as “enemy” (chóu), but as a surname, it was pronounced “Qiú,” homophonous with “seek” (qiú).

After pouring the water, Qiu Qing’an carried the two cups out and placed them on the coffee table. Then, she helped the old woman back to the sofa.

“I took my mother’s surname,” she added.

The old woman didn’t seem surprised. “I have a granddaughter about your age. She’s working overtime today, but you’ll probably see her around eight. She adores you.”

Qiu Qing’an chuckled. “Is that so?”

She didn’t mention that they wouldn’t be staying that long, not wanting to disappoint the elderly woman.

Gu Nanxuan, who had been sitting on the sofa, spoke up. “Sister Zhou just texted, asking for our exact location.”

Though Qiu Qing’an knew Zhou Mei was efficient, she was still surprised by the speed.

She took the phone from Gu Nanxuan. “I’ll call her.”

With that, she stepped aside.

The old woman realized they were about to leave. “Leaving so soon? Won’t you stay a little longer?”

“We have other matters to attend to.”

Gu Nanxuan wasn’t particularly skilled at chatting with strangers, but she softened her voice as she spoke to the elderly woman.

The old woman sighed. “Alright then.”

“Could you… leave an autograph for my granddaughter?”

After some thought, she remembered something her granddaughter often mentioned.

Qiu Qing’an returned from her call and, hearing the request, replied gently, “Of course. Where would you like us to sign?”

Delighted, the old woman fetched a photo and a pen from her room.

“Right here.”

She didn’t fully understand these things, but she remembered bits from her granddaughter’s constant chatter.

The photo happened to be a commemorative shot of Qiu Qing’an winning the Best Actress award.

Seeing it, Qiu Qing’an felt a faint stir of emotion.

After signing, the old woman handed the pen to Gu Nanxuan.

Gu Nanxuan blinked in surprise. “Me too?”

“Of course, you sign as well,” the old woman said. “I can tell you’re a good girl too. My granddaughter will surely like you.”