Reborn into the Obsessive Love of a Dark and Twisted Shadow Queen - Chapter 31

Chu Xueyi emerged from the bathroom still damp.

Although Ji Qingshu’s room was the largest in the school, it was still small enough to see the entire space at a glance.

Chu Xueyi could see Ji Qingshu sitting by the window, her slender fingers wrapped around a glass as she sipped her drink.

Let me dry your hair, Ji Qingshu said, setting down her glass and picking up the hairdryer Chu Xueyi had prepared earlier.

Chu Xueyi wanted to refuse, but Ji Qingshu was too quick. She was already sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to come over. Rejecting such eagerness felt cruel.

Chu Xueyi reluctantly walked over.

The hairdryer hummed to life, but this high-end model was surprisingly quiet. It took only seven or eight minutes to dry Chu Xueyi’s hair.

Considering Chu Xueyi’s waist-length, jet-black hair—which was always a hassle to wash—this was remarkably efficient.

Ji Qingshu dried her hair with meticulous care. Her slender fingers parted each damp strand as she moved the hairdryer up and down, completely removing the moisture.

The hairdryer was held at the perfect distance, neither too close to burn her scalp nor too far to be effective.

Once they finished their tasks, it was time for their performance.

Chu Xueyi assumed Ji Qingshu would want to wash up, but Ji Qingshu simply shook her head.

I’ll wash later.

Though puzzled, Chu Xueyi refrained from prying into others’ habits, a bad habit she’d never developed. She nodded.

Chu Xueyi didn’t know the reason, but Ji Qingshu did. She feared the lingering scent in the bathroom would stir her desires, so she had to wait until the smell completely dissipated before going in.

As for why… Ji Qingshu didn’t know either.

She was acutely sensitive to the scent of those she loved. Lingering too long in their presence would inevitably lead to vivid, sensual dreams that night.

Sometimes, Ji Qingshu suspected this was a kind of illness.

But she refused to acknowledge it, unwilling to delve deeper into understanding it.

After all, the cure was right before her eyes—all she had to do was reach out and claim it.

Let me review the script, Chu Xueyi said, pulling it from her bag. She put on her glasses and began studying the script intently. The small font and dense annotations required the aid of her glasses.

Ji Qingshu stole glances at her.

Chu Xueyi’s appearance with glasses exuded a cool, restrained allure, like a princess dwelling in a lofty tower, icy and aloof, yet irresistibly tempting to defile and possess.

Ji Qingshu didn’t need the script she had already memorized it perfectly. With her exceptional memory, the script was easy to grasp and perform.

The reason?

Because she and the male lead were essentially the same person, though his underlying nature leaned more toward cowardice, while hers leaned more toward greed and endurance.

After memorizing her lines, Chu Xueyi glanced at the wine on the table. She reached for a glass, parted her pink lips slightly, and took small sips of the cool liquid.

It perfectly dispelled the lingering heat from her recent bath.

Though it was fruit wine, drinking a large glass in one go seemed to have a slight intoxicating effect, leaving Chu Xueyi’s mind feeling light and floaty.

Chu Xueyi steadied herself against the chair as she stood up, then moved carefully into the lamplight. She began to mimic the couple’s dance from the film.

However, in the film,

the dance partner was a young master of equal social standing to the female lead.

An unspoken tension hung between the two women as Ji Qingshu watched from the shadows, silently consumed by jealousy.

Ji Qingshu leaned back in her chair, propping her chin on one hand, and began to immerse herself in the role of the male lead.

Chu Xueyi’s steps grew unsteady, perfectly mimicking the heroine’s drunken state. Her performance was so convincing that Ji Qingshu momentarily lost herself in the illusion.

Thinking Chu Xueyi was about to fall, Ji Qingshu abruptly stood up, the chair scraping back a few inches with a harsh screech.

Her concern clouded her judgment, and she panicked, even more flustered than the male lead in the film.

But halfway across the room, her steps slowed. This is just acting, she reminded herself. I can’t let my beloved underestimate me. If my acting is weaker than Chu Xueyi’s…

Then… would Xueyi find acting with me boring?

I need to take this seriously, Ji Qingshu!

She mentally warned herself.

Chu Xueyi leaned back into a warm embrace, her back pressed against something soft and warm, sending goosebumps prickling across her skin.

Young Miss, you’re drunk, Ji Qingshu said, her voice low and tinged with urgency.

Let go… How dare a lowly servant like you stop me? I want to keep dancing!

Chu Xueyi’s voice was impatient as she turned slightly and slapped Ji Qingshu across the face. In the movies, the female lead’s slaps always stung terribly.

But Chu Xueyi didn’t dare deliver a real blow to the future film queen.

She held back her strength.

A light tap.

Ji Qingshu let her head tilt with the force, her hair slightly disheveled, creating the illusion of a brutal beating.

I know I’m lowly, but Miss… if you keep dancing, you’ll embarrass yourself in front of Young Master Wen, Ji Qingshu whispered.

Chu Xueyi finally pretended to sober up, looking thoughtful.

In truth, the female lead didn’t love Young Master Wen at all. She simply couldn’t accept her feelings for a lowly servant, forcing herself to love the wealthy but philandering Young Master Wen instead.

So, Chu Xueyi allowed Ji Qingshu to support her as they slowly left the banquet hall—though for the two of them, their cramped dormitory was the banquet hall.

Chu Xueyi was helped to a wooden table and sat down, leaning weakly against the chair. Her heart was filled with helplessness, unable to accept the fact that she couldn’t transfer her love to another person.

She portrayed the female lead’s emotional turmoil with remarkable accuracy.

Even Ji Qingshu felt a pang of discomfort, unable to bear seeing her beloved in such anguish.

Chu Xueyi lowered her gaze, her breathing rising and falling unevenly. Her part in the scene was now complete.

Chu Xueyi’s performance had been flawless.

Now it was Ji Qingshu’s turn to take the baton and finish the final scene. With this, the rehearsal would conclude, and tomorrow they would begin filming in earnest.

Ji Qingshu leaned in, hesitating as if afraid to approach the woman she loved. When she realized the young lady had fallen asleep, she couldn’t resist drawing closer.

She pressed her body against the chair, her hands resting on the armrests. Tilting her head slightly, she leaned in to kiss those pink lips, yet hesitated.

Pain and longing swirled in her eyes.

At that moment, Chu Xueyi’s eyes fluttered open, just like the female lead’s subtle awakening in the film.

The female lead, seemingly emboldened by drunkenness, finally confessed her love, embracing the male lead and kissing him with the ferocity of a storm.

That’s how it played out in the film.

It was the most crucial kissing scene in the entire movie.

Chu Xueyi had known from the start that once they publicly acknowledged their relationship, there would be no more cheating the camera angles.

But… was it really necessary to go this far during a private rehearsal?

Yet… she found herself captivated by Ji Qingshu’s gaze, the other woman’s pitiful, yearning, yet hesitant expression truly… truly… softened her heart.

Just indulge her a little.

Ji Qingshu had been so attentive to her, drying her hair, buying her breakfast, and even resolving the issue with the bullies.

Perhaps it was this tangled mix of emotions that compelled Chu Xueyi to reach out, wrap her arms around Ji Qingshu’s neck, and kiss her passionately.

Like a storm.

Using the scene to mask her true feelings.

Chu Xueyi! Chu Xueyi!

How could you sink this low?

Are you afraid to admit you’re also smitten?

You’re pathetic… barely escaped one hellhole, only to eagerly plunge into another twisted abyss…