Provoking Fire [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 13

Meng Qin’s expression froze.

A coldness gradually gathered between the woman’s beautiful brows and eyes, mixed with the shame and anger of having her fantasies interrupted. Hot bl00d rushed to her head, only to slowly recede under Su Yan’s indifferent gaze. Reason slowly returned to her mind, especially after noticing the camera on the table, leaving a bitter taste in Meng Qin’s heart.

Only after the other woman had completely left her territory did Chu Xiyue withdraw her gaze, like a valiant female beast surveying her domain. Her radiant face appeared sincere and harmless, as if the explosive tension that had nearly erupted moments ago had never existed.

Perhaps there had been more diplomatic ways to break the deadlock, but such approaches simply weren’t “Chu Xiyue.”

Chu Xiyue had never been one to back down or compromise.

From the start of the show’s filming, Meng Qin’s one-sided affection for Su Yan had been glaringly obvious. Chu Xiyue might have pretended not to notice the earlier petty squabbles and veiled conflicts, but Meng Qin’s escalating behavior had now crossed her bottom line.

When Chu Xiyue saw Meng Qin, with her seemingly harmless face, smiling and calling Su Yan “Teacher Su,” an unnamed fire began to simmer in her chest.

Perhaps it was because of her strong sense of territoriality, a dislike for others crossing her boundaries?

Chu Xiyue glanced back at Su Yan and found her looking back with leisurely interest. Though Su Yan didn’t verbally support either side, the warmth in her gaze was distinctly different when directed at Chu Xiyue compared to Meng Qin.

Su Yan truly lived up to her reputation as a highly professional actress. Even without speaking, her emotions conveyed through her eyes were comforting and precise.

This gave Chu Xiyue the strange, hazy illusion that she was Su Yan’s only choice.

She snapped out of her reverie when a waiter brought over a beautifully plated Peking duck. Chu Xiyue composed herself, straightened her posture, and tore open a pair of gloves, handing one to Su Yan. The two then quietly immersed themselves in enjoying the exquisite meal.

This meal was eaten even faster than the last.

Su Yan had worked part-time as a model in the past, though not on international runways. Even domestic fashion shows required strict discipline over her physique, a habit she had maintained for years and still adhered to. She avoided greasy foods, ate healthily, and kept her portions small.

Chu Xiyue, on the other hand, seemed drained from their wild day at the amusement park, where she had shed her coat and gone overboard with the fun. She was barely present during dinner. If Meng Qin hadn’t made that almost provocative remark, she might not have mustered any energy at all.

Though they knew Meng Qin and Zhao Fei were also present, both parties tacitly avoided acknowledging each other as they left, given their earlier unpleasant encounter.

Back at the villa, Chu Xiyue heard cheerful electronic sounds as she pushed open the door. Lu Rujin and Yao Tian were sitting on the sofa, playing a game on the Switch. Yao Tian, the company’s top star, had seen her drama series explode in popularity a few years prior. To maintain her momentum, she had been constantly immersed in filming, earning her the nickname “Workaholic Queen.” Her free time was mostly spent resting, leaving her little opportunity for gaming.

Lu Rujin was teaching her how to play a recently viral game. No one seemed to remember its official title, but it had a catchy nickname: “Overcooked.”

Yao Tian, inexperienced and flustered, fumbled with the controls, making Lu Rujin laugh so hard she nearly cried. Between fits of laughter, Lu Rujin glanced at the newcomer and called out sweetly,

“Sister Yan, Sister Yueyue, would you like some passion fruit lemonade? Xiao Tiantian and I made it and put it in the fridge. It’s a beauty-enhancing masterpiece, personally crafted by the ultimate whitening and complexion-improving expert!”

Chu Xiyue felt a dull, heavy ache in her lower abdomen. For someone who had rarely experienced pain, this was both a novel and agonizing sensation. She didn’t respond immediately.

As her consciousness was consumed by the indescribable ache, Chu Xiyue felt a warm, strong hand firmly support her arm. Su Yan had returned to Lu Rujin’s side, but without mentioning Chu Xiyue’s discomfort. Standing nearby, she subtly shielded Chu Xiyue from the others’ view. The two women engrossed in their game, their hands flying across the controllers, didn’t notice anything amiss.

With a ding, the elevator arrived. Su Yan guided Chu Xiyue inside. Almost instantly, Chu Xiyue felt her legs buckle. Su Yan caught her firmly, and Chu Xiyue caught a faint, refreshing scent from Su Yan’s neck—the cool crispness of mint mingling with the delicate fragrance of camellias, almost blending seamlessly with the woman’s porcelain-white skin.

Having never experienced menstrual cramps before, Chu Xiyue was overwhelmed by this sudden onslaught of period symptoms. Especially since the villa’s air conditioning was set to 20°C, making her momentarily feel as if she had been transported back to a sweltering summer day in an air-conditioned room.

The villa had central air conditioning with separate zones for each floor. The second floor was at a normal temperature, but when Chu Xiyue pressed against Su Yan’s familiar warmth, her mind grew hazy. She only wanted to absorb the constant warmth radiating from Su Yan, unconsciously gripping Su Yan’s arm and refusing to let go.

Menstrual cramps remain a medical mystery to this day, with no definitive solution. Each woman experiences the pain differently—it’s not just a simple, intense ache, but a throbbing, wave-like pain that ebbs and flows, spreading across the lower abdomen and lower back.

“Chu Xiyue?”

She thought she heard Su Yan calling her name, her voice tinged with anxiety. At first, they had addressed each other as “Teacher Su” and “Teacher Chu,” their politeness carrying a hint of awkwardness, at least on Chu Xiyue’s part. Later, when Chu Xiyue started calling her “Sister Ayan,” Su Yan never reciprocated with “Chuchu” or “Yueyue.”

Yet whenever they were together, Chu Xiyue could clearly sense a vibrant energy, as if it were reserved solely for her. Whether it was teasing, scolding, joy, or anger—it was all…

Her mind drifted, lost in these wandering thoughts, when Chu Xiyue suddenly felt the supporting arm shift. With a swift, steady motion, Su Yan tilted her slightly and swept her up into a horizontal carry.

Before a few seconds had passed, Su Yan reached the door, lifted her chin, and gestured for Chu Xiyue to open it. Chu Xiyue instinctively kicked out, but when she heard a short, exasperated laugh from the other woman, she realized her reaction had been foolish. She quickly pressed her finger against the fingerprint lock on the door.

The door clicked open, and Chu Xiyue nestled into Su Yan’s arms, feeling the woman lift her long leg to close the door with a swift, wind-like motion. In no time, she was tucked into bed, the covers pulled up snugly.

Su Yan brought her slippers to the bedside, then washed her hands thoroughly before returning to touch Chu Xiyue’s forehead. Finding no fever, she felt a slight relief.

“Sit here for a bit. Don’t lie down. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Perhaps sensing the odd expression on Miss Chu’s face, Su Yan paused, fearing she might throw another tantrum or stubbornly refuse help. She turned back to study Chu Xiyue with a helpless look. The woman returned to her bedside, her beautiful face serious, but her voice unusually soft and gentle.

In this private space, free from cameras, Su Yan’s tone shifted from its usual crispness, rising slightly at the end. She reached out and gently patted Chu Xiyue’s head.

“Be good, okay?”