She Said: A Passionate Kiss [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 28

During the Chinese New Year, everyone stayed at home. When visiting relatives and friends, most people kept their heads down playing on their phones, and gossip about Qiang Huai and Gu Pingwan spread quickly.

 

Many self-entertaining posts started gaining traction, and someone even gave Qiang Huai and Gu Pingwan a couple nickname.

 

They called it #WanHuai#.

 

Sister Qin was working overtime trying to suppress the trending topic, but Qiang Huai was too popular—any tiny movement could stir up a storm.

 

New Year’s Eve.

 

Qiang Huai was alone in her villa. She had bought plenty of New Year supplies, but no one to share them with. She turned on the big TV and played video games in the living room.

 

While everyone else was enjoying reunion dinners, Qiang Huai was rushing through King’s Canyon (in the game Honor of Kings).

 

Gu Pingwan had originally invited Qiang Huai to join her for dinner, but Qiang Huai thought about it—after all, it was the New Year, and families usually visited relatives. She didn’t want to be a bother.

 

Her parents had gone back to Jiangcheng after paying respects to their ancestors that morning. After so many years, the whole family was used to it.

 

After the game, Qiang Huai took out a box of dumplings from the fridge, along with some hotpot base and other ingredients to cook a meal.

 

The hotpot base came from Gu Pingwan’s house—it really made everything taste better.

 

She had Little Fish pre-order fireworks to be delivered to her place, planning to light them after dinner. The villa was in the suburbs where there were no restrictions on fireworks.

 

Qiang Huai sent red packets to her fans on Weibo. The ops team had already posted a scheduled New Year video. While things were bustling online, her house was quiet—she was all alone.

 

She took a bite of dumpling and pulled out her phone to text Gu Pingwan:

 

“Happy New Year. Wanna come over and set off fireworks?”

 

Gu Pingwan didn’t reply.

 

Qiang Huai sent another red packet.

 

“Spending New Year alone is kinda sad.”

 

At that time, Gu Pingwan had just finished dinner and was visiting relatives with her mom. She was tutoring a cousin’s daughter in math.

 

The little girl was in 11th grade and seriously struggling with math. Her mother was extremely anxious about it.

 

The girl, chewing her pen, asked, “Pingwan-jie, did you also have to do homework during New Year when you were little?”

 

Gu Pingwan smiled and patted her head. “I always finished mine before the holidays.”

 

“Ugh, I’m dying. Thank Q (拴Q). My mom nags me to do homework every single day,” the girl grumbled as she scribbled formulas on her scratch paper.

 

Gu Pingwan frowned—what kind of internet slang was that?

 

“I wanna ask you something,” the girl said mysteriously.

 

“Go ahead,” Gu Pingwan said as she flipped through the girl’s workbook.

 

“You and Qiang Huai… were you classmates in high school?” the girl looked around nervously, afraid her mom would catch her slacking.

 

Gu Pingwan gave her a teasing smile. “Guess.”

 

“Come on, jiejie, tell meee~ I saw all the gossip online,” the girl widened her eyes sincerely.

 

“If you finish this problem, I’ll tell you,” Gu Pingwan pointed to a particularly tricky question.

 

The girl collapsed onto the table. “Ugh, never mind. Don’t tell me then.”

 

Suddenly, Gu Pingwan remembered—she hadn’t replied to Qiang Huai yet.

 

She lit up her screen and saw the messages from Qiang Huai, inviting her to set off fireworks.

 

She turned off the phone and patted the girl on the shoulder. “You focus on this. I’ll check it next time I’m here.”

 

Grabbing her coat, she called out, “Mom, Auntie, I’m going out for a bit.”

 

Her mom was munching sunflower seeds. “It’s so late. Who are you meeting?”

 

“A friend,” Gu Pingwan rubbed her nose.

 

“Ooh, boyfriend or girlfriend?” her aunt teased.

 

Without hesitation, Gu Pingwan replied, “Girlfriend.”

 

“Oh,” both women instantly lost interest and went back to chatting.

 

Gu Pingwan flagged down a car. Since Qiang Huai’s villa was in the suburbs, the driver charged extra, which was understandable during the New Year.

 

While in the car, she replied:

 

“I’m out visiting relatives.”

 

Right after hitting send, her phone slipped and fell under the seat.

 

“Driver, could you stop for a second when we arrive? I dropped my phone,” she said, fumbling around but unable to find it.

 

Meanwhile, Qiang Huai tossed her dishes into the dishwasher. Seeing Gu Pingwan’s reply, she figured she wouldn’t make it. She hadn’t even accepted the red packet. Oh well—guess she’d light the fireworks herself.

 

Many people had sent her New Year messages on WeChat, but she tossed the phone aside without replying.

 

She carried a box of fireworks from the storage room and set them up in the yard.

 

She searched the whole house before finally finding a lighter.

 

Then she brought over a small table and two stools, placing them at a safe distance—still hoping Gu Pingwan would come.

 

There were over 100 fireworks in the box. She lit the fuse, covered her ears, and ran to sit by the table, wrapping herself in a blanket.

 

Sitting there, watching the vibrant bursts of fireworks light up the sky, the darkness felt pierced, the noise was deafening—but there was only one person watching.

 

Suddenly, the front gate swung open.

 

Gu Pingwan stood at the threshold, her outline bathed in color. The booming fireworks echoed through the air. Standing there, she looked surreal.

 

Qiang Huai jumped up and ran toward her.

 

Gu Pingwan tilted her head to watch the fireworks. The scattered embers fell like glitter. Qiang Huai thought—this made everything in the world feel worth it.

 

“You… weren’t you visiting relatives?” Qiang Huai was out of breath, unwrapping her blanket to drape over Gu Pingwan’s shoulders.

 

Gu Pingwan looked away from the sky. “With fireworks that pretty, how could I miss it?”

 

Qiang Huai took her hand and led her to the stools.

 

“I’ve got loads more fireworks. Want to pick some?” she pointed inside the house.

 

Gu Pingwan nodded and followed her in.

 

“You bought so many?” She was stunned to see the storage room stacked with fireworks—like a wholesale market.

 

“Little Fish ordered them. I figured being alone was boring—might as well make it festive.”

 

Qiang Huai grabbed a box. “This one’s called ‘Peacock’s Display.’ Looks like it’ll be really pretty.”

 

Gu Pingwan picked a box labeled Wealth and Prosperity. “What’s this one?”

 

As she picked it up, she saw what was hidden beneath: the furniture from the last time she and Qiang Huai had a fight was still covered with scribbled words like “Gu Pingwan is a big dumb pig.”

 

Qiang Huai immediately held her fireworks box up to block it. “Nothing!”

 

Gu Pingwan laughed out loud. “I saw it all.”

 

“When did you write that?”

 

Qiang Huai gave up hiding. “That time we argued—you know, when Mr. Ji came over.”

 

“So that’s how Qiang Huai feels about me, huh?” Gu Pingwan’s voice was soft, with a teasing lilt.

 

Qiang Huai, for the first time, blushed—maybe because her silly tantrum had been discovered?

 

“Let’s go light fireworks,” she muttered and hurried out with the box.

 

Gu Pingwan followed, carrying hers. Qiang Huai set hers up and came back to take Gu Pingwan’s. “I’ll light it.”

 

“Okay. Be careful,” Gu Pingwan handed it over.

 

Qiang Huai lit the fuse from a distance and came to stand beside her just as the fireworks exploded behind them.

 

Gu Pingwan said something, but Qiang Huai couldn’t hear over the noise.

 

“What did you say?” Qiang Huai squinted, her eyes stinging from the smoke.

 

“Nothing,” Gu Pingwan cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted.

 

They played with the fireworks a while longer until they were tired.

 

Back inside, they collapsed onto the couch and exchanged a smile.

 

“This is the happiest New Year I’ve had,” Qiang Huai said, then got up to fetch a bottle of red wine. “Drink a little?”

 

Gu Pingwan helped open it. Qiang Huai also brought over a pile of snacks.

 

“You don’t spend New Year with your family?” Gu Pingwan asked softly, feeling a twinge of sadness seeing how big and empty the house was.

 

Qiang Huai washed the wine glasses. “I’m used to it.”

 

They sat and drank. Two bottles were gone before they noticed.

 

“I’ll show you your high school photos,” Qiang Huai said, a little tipsy. She pulled out her phone and opened her QQ album. She had saved tons of photos of Gu Pingwan, deleted them after graduation, then later restored them by upgrading her VIP membership.

 

Gu Pingwan leaned in. “Let me see—bet they’re super ugly.”

 

“No, no, not at all.”

 

She opened a private album filled with classroom photos from high school. Only then did it hit her—so many years had passed.

 

“Look at this one,” she said, holding the phone out.

 

It showed Gu Pingwan bent over a test paper, golden sunlight bathing her in soft light—every little hair on her nose visible.

 

“And this one—”

 

In it, Gu Pingwan was secretly reading a novel under her desk. Qiang Huai had secretly snapped the picture.

 

Gu Pingwan frowned. “When did I ever do that?”

 

“When I was giving you that book,” Qiang Huai grinned. That photo had such contrast—straight-A student caught slacking.

 

“This one’s especially funny,” Qiang Huai slurred a bit, tipsy. “Look.”

 

The photo showed Gu Pingwan with her face distorted from movement, looking like Aladdin’s genie.

 

“You!” Gu Pingwan put her glass down and reached out to grab the phone. “Delete that right now!”

 

Qiang Huai raised it out of reach. “It’s adorable!”

 

Gu Pingwan couldn’t reach, so she climbed over her, one hand pinning Qiang Huai’s leg, the other reaching up.

 

“Qiang Huai, I’ll take ugly pics of you too!” she laughed, exasperated.

 

Qiang Huai smirked confidently. “Go ahead—I look good from every angle.”

 

Gu Pingwan crawled over like a scanner. “Let me see… how’s this angle?”

 

If someone filmed this scene and posted it online, it’d need to be censored—the angle was that suggestive. Her head was near Qiang Huai’s waist, looking up.

 

“See? Told you I look good from every angle,” Qiang Huai raised her brow.

 

Gu Pingwan, clearly tipsy, wasn’t acting like her usual self. She slowly lifted her head until they were nearly eye to eye.

 

“Mm, you really do look good from every angle,” she said, her breath tinged with wine.

 

Qiang Huai froze. There was barely a fist’s width between them.

 

“This close, I can’t even see your pores. Qiang Huai, your skin is amazing.” Gu Pingwan poked her cheek.

 

Qiang Huai gently wrapped an arm around Gu Pingwan’s waist. “Gu… if you keep doing this, I might…”

 

Before she could finish, Gu Pingwan suddenly leaned in and kissed her. Their lips met, and Gu Pingwan closed her eyes, motionless, except for the soft way her lips nibbled.

 

Qiang Huai held her breath—unsure whether to respond or pull away. Her mind went completely blank.

 

What just happened?