Provoking Fire [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 37

Chu Xiyue had heard people tease about “the young couple” before, but this was the first time she truly felt that way herself. The neatly arranged courtyard inexplicably gave her a strange, overwhelming sense of delusion.

Looking around at the unfamiliar furnishings, Chu Xiyue suddenly had a thought. She turned to Su Yan and asked, “Was your old home… something like this?”

“What?” Su Yan hadn’t heard clearly, as she had been busy with something else. Hearing the question, she set down what she was doing and turned to face Chu Xiyue, her calm, coffee-brown eyes meeting hers steadily. Her expression was serene, as if she were listening intently.

Stars from small county towns weren’t uncommon, but most rarely mentioned their hometowns, preferring vague generalizations. They seemed to avoid the topic, perhaps fearing it would become ammunition for anti-fans.

Chu Xiyue remembered that Su Yan had rarely spoken about her family either. But after spending time with her, she guessed that Su Yan wasn’t the type to abandon her humble origins as a shameful secret, unwilling to let anyone know. On the contrary, Su Yan had never cultivated a persona. Even though fans repeatedly insisted she was born to be a star, radiating star power, she had never denied her rural roots.

Overwhelmed by curiosity, Chu Xiyue repeated her earlier question, glancing at Su Yan’s reaction.

By now, Su Yan had turned on the bedside lamp—an old-fashioned desk lamp whose brightest setting barely illuminated the small area, but it was sufficient.

After hearing the question clearly, Su Yan pressed the self-start button on her portable UV sterilizer and began slowly scanning the bedspread, her tone casual yet patient.

“About the same. The conditions might be a bit worse. Not every courtyard has air conditioning, and the refrigerators aren’t as fancy.”

Unlike Chu Xiyue, who came from a wealthy family and was a true “Miss” in every sense of the word, Su Yan was born in a rural village in northern China where traditional gender roles were deeply ingrained. While her family wasn’t impoverished—they could afford a single air conditioner—the three daughters before her younger brother had never received the same preferential treatment.

Among the three girls, Su Yan stood out for her exceptional academic performance, earning praise from all her teachers. Her family sent her to a boarding high school in the city with the expectation that she would attend university, secure a respectable job, and support her brother. The other two girls dropped out after junior high without exception.

“But my father passed away unexpectedly just before I graduated from elementary school and entered junior high.”

Su Yan’s tone remained light and cheerful as she spoke. Chu Xiyue detected no trace of nostalgia or sadness in her expression, only a hint of lingering relief.

For someone like Chu Xiyue, who came from such a privileged background, it was probably difficult to truly empathize. In her family, she bore her mother’s surname, a rarity in their social circles. Her father, Mr. Tian, wasn’t the stereotypical “live-in husband” many might imagine; their household atmosphere had always been egalitarian and open. Su Yan could guess that Miss Chu’s carefree and independent personality stemmed from the happiness and security of her upbringing.

After the removal of a lazy, domineering male figure from their home, Su Yan found life, psychologically speaking, had become much easier, despite the tighter financial constraints.

As the second child in her family, Su Yan often helped her mother with heavy chores. Her calloused palms, evident with a single touch, revealed a life far removed from pampered luxury. Yet whenever Chu Xiyue held her hand, she felt a quiet sense of reassurance.

Chu Xiyue only knew that Su Yan had risen from a remote mountain village, a senior colleague whose story had been sensationalized by the media to the point of near-mythologization. She had no idea about the hidden depths of Su Yan’s past.

A complex emotion stirred within her.

Su Yan hadn’t shared many details, offering only a vague outline without any intention of exploiting her past for conversation. Such self-pity always felt like cheap sentimentality, and even with Chu Xiyue, she preferred to keep her vulnerable side hidden.

Yet she recalled that summer had been exceptionally scorching. The sight of a neatly dressed, brightly adorned little girl in their rural village was like a dazzling splash of color in a monochrome landscape. Those who preyed on the weak and cowered before the strong, who turned their sharpest edges against their own kind, reacted to this radiant outsider—so different from themselves—as if they were gazing at the sun. Ashamed of their own darkness, they quietly admired her from a distance, hiding their shadows.

The restless little girl, captivated by the novelty of rural life, darted about exploring. Her generosity and beauty, devoid of any condescension, quickly won her the friendship of the local girls.

“Oh, right! Speaking of which, I think I went to the countryside when I was little too. I’ve been to both the north and the south, but I’m not sure if I ever visited your area,” Chu Xiyue said, borrowing Su Yan’s UV sterilizer and thoroughly rolling it around the vicinity

Looking back, Chu Xiyue realized she had been incredibly lucky that day. The men she encountered had shown some restraint, refraining from physically harming her. A five- or six-year-old’s body wouldn’t have stood a chance against their violence.

Even her parents never learned about the incident. Chu Xiyue had never told anyone, but Su Yan’s words suddenly brought the memory flooding back.

Her childhood must have been incredibly difficult.

The same went for the young woman she had seen. As soon as the men left, she collapsed to the ground like a deflated balloon, her shoulders heaving with sobs.

Chu Xiyue had long forgotten how to comfort people, or perhaps she had never possessed the talent for it in the first place. She could only remember forcing out a few gentle words, which only made the woman cry harder, leaving her utterly helpless.

In the end… she seemed to have run back home and pressed a five-hundred-yuan red envelope into the woman’s hand.

Five hundred yuan was a considerable sum back then. Though she was too young to fully grasp the value of money, Chu Xiyue noticed the woman’s expression brighten considerably after accepting the envelope. Her tone became markedly more polite and grateful.

When Chu Xiyue mentioned “going to the countryside,” she didn’t notice Su Yan’s hand clenching tightly, her fingernails digging into her palm without registering the pain. But these details seemed insignificant to the storyteller, and Chu Xiyue glossed over them, not even asking for the specific location of Su Yan’s former home.

Su Yan’s long lashes fluttered, lowering to conceal her turbulent emotions. She forced her voice to remain calm as she said, “It’s getting late. We have filming tomorrow. Let’s sleep.”

With that, she climbed into one side of the bed, found her spot, and lay down.

Chu Xiyue, who had been chatting for ages, hadn’t actually prepared herself to share a bed with someone. Hearing Su Yan mention filming tomorrow, she retorted irritably, “Filming, filming! All you ever think about is filming! What about your wrist?!” Seeing Su Yan lying there, hands folded, in a docile, non-confrontational pose, Chu Xiyue grew genuinely annoyed. “I’m telling Yang Ruoshui tomorrow we’re taking a day off to shoot other scenes. We’ll both rest—the leads are going on strike!”

Su Yan usually addressed Director Yang with polite formality, rarely calling her by name. When she heard the name “Yang Ruoshui,” Su Yan’s eyelashes fluttered, and she seemed to be suppressing a smile as she lay there. Chu Xiyue clearly saw the corners of her lips twitch upward and, with a toss of the blanket, climbed onto the bed beside her.

If we’re sleeping, we’re sleeping. Who’s afraid of whom?

Though Chu Xiyue had realized her sexual orientation early, she maintained close friendships with many girls. She had shared beds multiple times with Yu Xian, her childhood friend, and her cousin. Surely sleeping with Su Yan, a straight woman, wouldn’t be any different.

Once on the bed, Chu Xiyue immediately caught a faint, unique fragrance—Su Yan’s signature cool, refreshing scent. The perfume had settled into its base notes, lingering in the air around her.

Lying down, Chu Xiyue forced herself to close her eyes, even her breathing, and try to fall asleep. Unfortunately, her sense of smell seemed to sharpen at such times, picking up every subtle detail. The delicate fragrance, rather than calming her nerves, only stirred her mind further.

She glanced sideways at Su Yan, whose breathing was even and steady. She couldn’t tell if Su Yan was truly asleep, but thankfully the bed was large enough for her to turn over quietly.

A moment later, feeling restless, she shifted again with the smallest possible movement.

Her restless movements, though carefully minimized, were still precisely detected by the other woman. Confined to lying flat due to her injury, Su Yan’s wrist still throbbed faintly. She called out softly, “Chu Xiyue.”

Chu Xiyue instinctively turned to look at her.

Su Yan had intended to ask if she couldn’t sleep, as if they were having a normal conversation. But when the words reached her lips, they inexplicably transformed into:

“I’m a little scared.”