She Said: A Passionate Kiss [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 41
The day of Qiang Huai’s wrap-up shoot came quickly. The crew had already prepared cake and flowers in advance.
Her final scene was a night shoot. Her character was captured by criminals, and during an escape attempt, she was recaptured. Her tendons in her hands and feet were cut, and her face was slashed with a knife. According to the plot, her internal organs were removed, cooked, and eaten. She died without even a grave.
As the special effects makeup artist worked on her, Xiao Yu brought Gu Pingwan to the set for a visit.
“You came?” Qiang Huai squinted her eyes as the makeup artist painted the knife wounds on her face.
Gu Pingwan looked at the fake wounds on Qiang Huai’s face—it looked so real it made her wince internally.
“I just got off work and thought I’d come see you.” Gu Pingwan sounded a bit embarrassed. She had gotten Sister Qin’s contact info from Pei Yang, then reached out to Xiao Yu through her, managing to sneak in without anyone knowing.
“There’ll probably be a few more hours to go. Don’t you have work tomorrow?” Qiang Huai was secretly delighted.
“I have the day off tomorrow. I’ll go back to Jin City with you.” Gu Pingwan said as she sat down on the small stool Xiao Yu brought over.
Lately, Qiang Huai had been filming mostly night scenes and had lost track of time. She pulled out her phone and saw that it was already April.
“Send me your ID—I’ll book the tickets,” said Gu Pingwan.
“Chief Engineer Gu, let me do it,” Xiao Yu interjected and looked at Qiang Huai.
Qiang Huai gave her a look. “Then I’ll trouble you, Student Gu.”
Xiao Yu passed Qiang Huai’s information to Gu Pingwan, who quickly booked their flight for the next afternoon back to Jin City.
Once the special effects makeup was complete, Qiang Huai changed into costume and went to the pre-built set.
The set was a messy thatched hut. Qiang Huai was tied to a pole, covered in wounds. A pot of boiling water simmered beside her, ready to cook her organs.
Tears welled in Qiang Huai’s eyes. Her mouth was stuffed with a gray, dirty towel.
“You Chinese are all so tough. Let’s see how long you can last.” A blond, stubbled man spoke in incomprehensible English.
The veins at Qiang Huai’s temples bulged from the pain, and sweat trickled down her forehead, dripping onto the ground.
Gu Pingwan stood behind the director. On the monitor, Qiang Huai faced the camera, as if she had truly been tortured—her performance was silent yet resilient.
“I heard you Chinese have a thing called hot pot. I don’t like meat, only organs. Why don’t I use yours for hot pot?” the stubbled man said, then asked someone to bring a knife.
He began cutting off Qiang Huai’s fingers one by one. She bit down on the cloth without struggling, her voice growing fainter with each chop.
The dirty cloth was removed, and her tongue was cut out. She cursed the terrorists in a slurred voice.
The final shot showed Qiang Huai lying in a pool of bl00d. Her clothes were torn, her internal organs exposed, and beside her, a hot pot boiled—her heart being cooked inside.
With that, Qiang Huai’s role was wrapped.
The director, wiping away tears, called out, “Cut! Teacher Qiang, sniff, wrap party!”
Gu Pingwan watched through the monitor as Qiang Huai stood up from her “death.” Only then did she snap back to reality.
Unconsciously, she wiped the corner of her eye—she had been moved to tears too.
From Qiang Huai’s performance, she could see the hardships of national security workers, the bravery of fallen heroes, and the emotional depth made it feel incredibly immersive.
Many on set were crying, as if they had really lived through it.
Qiang Huai came out of the studio still in special effects makeup. The fake bl00d had been streaked by her real tears.
“Teacher Qiang, Teacher Qiang, can we take a photo with you?” A group of staff rushed over with cake and flowers.
“Sure.” Qiang Huai smiled and nodded, her gaze drifting toward Gu Pingwan standing not far away.
Everyone took photos with Qiang Huai, and she cooperated cheerfully. By the time it was over, Gu Pingwan had already been waiting for more than forty minutes.
There were still other scenes to shoot. The celebration banquet would take place once all cast members had wrapped.
Qiang Huai removed her makeup and said her goodbyes, while Xiao Yu led Gu Pingwan to the nanny van ahead of time.
She carried the flowers into the van, and Gu Pingwan quickly reached out to pull her up.
“How was it? Did the performance make you cry?” Qiang Huai’s skin glowed after removing her makeup. Her eyes were like baskets full of stars.
“It was very moving.” Gu Pingwan turned her head. She noticed a red speck near Qiang Huai’s temple and reached for it.
“Hm?” Qiang Huai looked puzzled.
Gu Pingwan gently plucked a red residue from her hair—leftover fake bl00d from the makeup.
“There was something on you.” Gu Pingwan was very close. She could smell a fruity scent from Qiang Huai—probably her makeup remover.
Qiang Huai had thought Gu Pingwan was about to do something intimate. Now she felt a little disappointed.
“Oh.” A trace of disappointment flickered in Qiang Huai’s eyes.
Gu Pingwan pulled a drink from her bag and handed it over. “Here, for you.”
“What is it?” Qiang Huai looked at the bottle. The label was in Japanese, looked like some kind of tea.
“Uh, I didn’t know people bring gifts for wrap parties. I just picked it up on the way here,” Gu Pingwan explained sheepishly, worried Qiang Huai would think she hadn’t put in much effort.
Qiang Huai opened it and took a sip. “Is this barley tea?”
“Hope your movie gets a barley harvest.” Gu Pingwan gave an awkward pun and smiled shyly.
“Not bad, it’s really good. How come I’ve never tried this before?” Qiang Huai took another couple of sips, then handed it to Gu Pingwan. “Wanna try?”
Gu Pingwan hesitated, then took a small sip. “It tastes a little strange.”
…
The next day.
Qiang Huai got up early and had Xiao Yu hire someone to clean her villa. She packed up her things and sent them back home.
Her next shoot wouldn’t start for over a month. The Chinese-Korean anti-school bullying film might not get domestic release, so Sister Qin had found her some promising new scripts.
Gu Pingwan had bought a lot of local specialty products—enough for a whole suitcase just to check in.
At the airport, Qiang Huai, wearing sunglasses and a mask, rushed to help with Gu Pingwan’s luggage as soon as she saw her.
“Bringing so much stuff—are you never coming back?” she teased.
“They’re for my mom. I got some for you too,” Gu Pingwan said, also wearing a mask.
“Let’s go.” Qiang Huai headed toward the economy class baggage counter.
Gu Pingwan tapped her on the shoulder. “I booked first class.”
“First class?” Qiang Huai was slightly pained at the thought of the cost. “Then I’ll reimburse you.”
Gu Pingwan scratched her head. “I’ve got money. I earned some from a previous project. President Pei gave me a quarterly bonus.”
“Still, don’t waste money,” Qiang Huai said as they wheeled their luggage to the first-class check-in. “Making money isn’t easy.”
Gu Pingwan replied, “I just wanted you to be more comfortable.”
Qiang Huai turned and squinted with a smile, patting her head. “Got it. Our Wanwan is the best.”
…
Back in Jin City.
The driver came to pick up Qiang Huai, who planned to drop Gu Pingwan off first.
“My mom heard you were coming back with me and wants you to come upstairs for a bit,” said Gu Pingwan, standing downstairs with two suitcases.
“Is that… appropriate?” Qiang Huai hesitated, thinking it might be better not to intrude since Gu Pingwan hadn’t seen her mother in a while.
Gu Pingwan nodded quickly like a pecking chick. “She made lots of good food.”
Qiang Huai told the driver to head back, then followed her upstairs.
Their door was open, and the smell of food wafted out—homey and warm.
“You’re back?” Gu’s mother emerged from the house, placing a large pot of braised pork on the table.
“Yes, Mom. Qiang Huai came too,” said Gu Pingwan.
“Come in, come in, let’s eat.” Mrs. Gu smiled brightly and wore an apron.
Qiang Huai skillfully took out the pair of slippers that were hers and slipped them on. “Hello, Auntie.”
“Good, good! Go wash your hands.” Mrs. Gu beamed. She took off her apron and pulled out some chilled peach juice from the fridge.
Gu Pingwan had mentioned before that Qiang Huai liked it, so Mrs. Gu had gone out and bought some specially.
“Xiao Huai, did you just finish shooting in Beijing?” Mrs. Gu used the communal chopsticks to place a piece of braised pork into her bowl.
“Yes, and since Wanwan had some time, we came back together,” Qiang Huai replied.
“I’ve seen you in the news a lot lately. Filming must be tough—eat more.” Mrs. Gu added a chicken wing.
Gu Pingwan quietly placed a piece of meat in her own bowl—if you didn’t know, you’d think she was the guest.
After dinner, Mrs. Gu pulled Qiang Huai into the living room for a chat.
“I’ll go help her.” Qiang Huai stood up.
“No need, let her do it.” Mrs. Gu held her down and called to the kitchen, “Wanwan, close the door, the dishwashing is too noisy.”
Gu Pingwan obediently closed the door, unaware of the serious conversation outside.
Qiang Huai sensed something was off. Mrs. Gu looked serious. She tried to distract herself by sipping the peach juice.
“Do you like our Wanwan?” Mrs. Gu asked bluntly. Qiang Huai nearly choked.
She started coughing, and Mrs. Gu handed her a tissue.
“Auntie, what are you saying?” Qiang Huai reacted quickly. “Wanwan is such a good person, of course anyone would like her.”
Mrs. Gu nodded thoughtfully. “The other day I ran into your high school director—what was his name again?”
“Director Qin,” Qiang Huai replied carefully, afraid of saying the wrong thing.
“Yes, yes, him. He told me about what happened back in school. Thank you for looking after my daughter.”
“I…” Qiang Huai didn’t know what to say.
Mrs. Gu continued, “Lately I’ve seen you both in the news. I even downloaded that Weibo app you young people use.”
“You’re so good to her—don’t tell me you don’t like her?”
“Auntie, I do like Wanwan. Very much,” Qiang Huai answered honestly. She didn’t even know how Mrs. Gu figured it out.
“I’m old and don’t understand how you young people think. But after going through a serious illness, I’ve come to see things more clearly.” Mrs. Gu touched her graying hair. “Nothing is more important than health. And I really like you too.”
“If it’s really like I suspect, I only ask one thing—don’t hurt Wanwan. I’ve already hurt her too much.”
Mrs. Gu’s eyes welled with tears. She had indeed neglected Gu Pingwan since her husband’s passing.
After seeing the news and researching things online, she even asked a doctor if homosexuality could be “treated” with traditional Chinese medicine. The doctor nearly had her admitted to a psychiatric ward.
Having brushed past death, Mrs. Gu understood now: the rarest thing in life is joy. If Gu Pingwan is happy and healthy with Qiang Huai, that’s all that matters.
“Auntie, I’m very serious about my relationship with Wanwan. I would never hurt her.” Qiang Huai paused. “The thing is… Wanwan doesn’t seem to see me that way.”
“What?” Mrs. Gu was shocked.