She Said: A Passionate Kiss [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 42
The reason why Mother Gu directly asked Qiang Huai if she liked Gu Pingwan was because their interactions looked so much like a couple’s that it was easy to misunderstand. She hadn’t expected that the two of them weren’t actually together.
“Of course, Auntie, don’t worry. I’ll treat Gu Pingwan with the utmost respect. If she’s not willing to be with me, I won’t bother her,” Qiang Huai said when she noticed Mother Gu’s face darkening.
She had imagined what it would be like if she really did get together with Gu Pingwan—how to win over both families’ approval. She hadn’t expected Mother Gu to see through her feelings so easily.
Mother Gu spoke with kind sincerity, “Xiaowan is introverted. She might need a long time to get comfortable with someone.”
“If it’s not meant to be, don’t force it.”
Qiang Huai lowered her head slightly, staring at the cup in her hands. Then she raised her eyes to meet Mother Gu’s. “I understand, Auntie.”
Gu Pingwan opened the kitchen door and saw the two of them chatting.
“Mom, it’s already late. You should get ready for bed,” she said, wiping her hands with a tissue.
Mother Gu nodded with a smile. “Xiao Huai, why don’t you stay over tonight?”
“Sorry to trouble you, Auntie,” Qiang Huai replied obediently.
Gu Pingwan found a fresh bedsheet and quilt from the cupboard, made the bed in the guest room, and prepared some disposable toiletries.
“There’s a package coming tomorrow,” Qiang Huai said as she fluffed the pillows. “It’s for Auntie, I sent it to your place.”
“Hm?” Gu Pingwan tilted her head.
“Didn’t Auntie say she liked that lipstick? I bought a few shades, along with some other makeup,” Qiang Huai explained, as if she were shopping for her own mom.
Gu Pingwan didn’t want to reject the kind gesture. “We’ll pick it up after visiting my dad’s grave.”
During Qingming Festival, Jin City was drenched in heavy rain. Qiang Huai lay in the guest room at Gu Pingwan’s house. The thunder outside rattled the windows.
She tossed and turned in bed before pulling out her phone to text Gu Pingwan.
“Are you asleep?”
Gu Pingwan had just lain down when her phone buzzed twice on the nightstand.
It was a message from Qiang Huai. She replied:
“Not yet.”
Qiang Huai responded instantly:
“The rain is so heavy, and the thunder is so loud.”
“Jiejie, I’m kind of scared.”
Gu Pingwan stared at the message, the characters looking strange and unfamiliar.
She typed back:
“Want me to come keep you company?”
Thinking it over, it made sense—Qiang Huai was in a new environment, it was reasonable for her to feel scared.
Qiang Huai replied, kicking around under the blanket:
“Would that be okay…?”
Gu Pingwan didn’t even check the message before getting up. She quietly opened her door, stood outside the guest room, and texted:
“Open the door.”
Qiang Huai immediately jumped out of bed, barefoot, and opened the door.
Gu Pingwan’s hair hung over her shoulders, slightly messy. The lightning outside lit up her pale skin like porcelain.
Qiang Huai immediately put on a pitiful expression, lips pouting like a wronged child.
Gu Pingwan stepped inside and shut the door behind her with practiced ease.
“I’m scared,” Qiang Huai clung to her arm, the two walking to the bed like a pair of entwined dragons.
Gu Pingwan was surprised—Qiang Huai, so decisive and sharp outside, was actually scared of thunder?
“Don’t be scared, Jiejie’s here,” she gently patted her back to comfort her.
Qiang Huai leaned on her shoulder. “Mm-hmm.”
“You get into bed first, I’ll draw the curtains,” said Gu Pingwan, slipping her arm from Qiang Huai’s grasp.
Qiang Huai climbed to the head of the bed and left space for her.
Once the curtains were drawn, Gu Pingwan was pulled into the covers by Qiang Huai.
Thunder rumbled loudly. Qiang Huai nuzzled into her neck and mumbled, “I’m really scared, Jiejie, hug me.”
The warmth of her breath made Gu Pingwan’s ears flush. She turned over and rested her head on Qiang Huai’s arm.
“It’s okay. I’m here.”
Qiang Huai’s little trick worked. She hugged Gu Pingwan and slept soundly until dawn.
…
Gu Pingwan’s father’s death anniversary was the day before Qingming. Mother Gu told her to go ahead without her; she would visit on Qingming itself.
By the time the two got up, Mother Gu had already lit incense in front of her husband’s memorial tablet and gone into the kitchen. In the pot were tofu glutinous rice cakes—a traditional Jin City offering for ancestral rites.
“Mom, are you sure you don’t want to go with us?” Gu Pingwan stood on the balcony, stretching out a hand. Though it wasn’t raining, the sky was still a murky gray.
“You two can go today. I’ll go tomorrow.” Mother Gu packed the offerings into an insulated bag and handed it to her daughter.
Qiang Huai packed incense and joss paper. “Then we’ll be heading out, Auntie.”
“Alright, be safe on the road,” said Mother Gu.
Gu Pingwan’s father was buried on a mountain. It was over an hour’s drive from the city. Qiang Huai had a car sent over but chose to drive herself, with Gu Pingwan in the passenger seat holding the offerings.
“Does Auntie know how to drive?” Qiang Huai asked, skillfully turning the wheel along the winding mountain road.
“She does,” Gu Pingwan replied, clutching the items in her lap.
“Then I’ll have my driver send her a car. It’ll be more convenient for her,” said Qiang Huai, checking her mirrors before overtaking a car.
Gu Pingwan quickly shook her head. “No, I’m already saving up to buy her one.”
“Cars are consumables. Letting them sit in a garage is a waste. I was hoping she could help me maintain a few—take one out every week for a spin,” Qiang Huai said sincerely, making it hard to refuse.
“I’ll ask her,” Gu Pingwan said.
In truth, Qiang Huai just wanted Mother Gu to get out more. She could tell the woman was lonely. Maybe because she was an actor, Qiang Huai noticed subtle expressions. Whenever Mother Gu saw them arrive, her tired face would instantly brighten.
“Has Auntie ever taken her on a trip?” Qiang Huai asked casually.
Gu Pingwan shook her head. “Never had time.”
“When we get a break, let’s take her somewhere?”
“Okay.” Gu Pingwan wasn’t sure when that would be, though—short holidays weren’t enough for long trips.
They arrived at the cemetery. The grave was surrounded by weeds, clearly left untended for a while.
Gu Pingwan took out a sickle and gloves from her backpack, ready to start clearing the brush.
“I’ll do it,” said Qiang Huai, taking the sickle.
“You know how?” Gu Pingwan looked doubtful.
“Who doesn’t know how to cut grass?” Qiang Huai laughed. “Forget that I’m an actress—I’m still just a regular person.”
That sentence hit Gu Pingwan like a splash of cold water. She had always placed Qiang Huai on a pedestal, planning everything from restaurants to flight tickets according to her star status.
Watching Qiang Huai cut grass, she realized she couldn’t keep thinking that way.
Come to think of it, Qiang Huai never boasted about being a celebrity. That halo was something Gu Pingwan imposed on her. In all their time together, Qiang Huai had always been her authentic self—just like back in high school—never acting superior.
Gu Pingwan gathered the cut weeds and tossed them aside. In front of the tombstone, she lit candles and incense, murmuring softly as she burned paper money.
“Dad, I came to see you. Brought your favorite wine.” She poured a cup and spilled some on the ground.
“This is my high school classmate, Qiang Huai, my good friend.”
Qiang Huai also grabbed some paper money, adding it to the fire. “Hello, Uncle. If there’s a chance, I’ll come visit you again with Wanwan.”
Gu Pingwan said a lot more—about her mother’s illness, about leaving her job at the Academy of Sciences to start her own project.
Her eyes were a bit red—whether from smoke or tears, she wasn’t sure.
“Let’s go.” Qiang Huai helped her up.
On the way back, it started to rain. Gu Pingwan was quiet.
When they passed a blooming canola field, Qiang Huai said, “The flowers smell so good.”
“If it doesn’t rain tomorrow, want to come play?” Gu Pingwan’s grandmother lived nearby. She originally planned to visit her after the memorial, but with the rain, the road was too muddy to drive.
“Of course, the air’s so fresh here,” Qiang Huai said, cracking the window a bit. It was a world apart from the city.
“Okay.”
Back at the apartment, a delivery had just arrived.
The two of them carried boxes upstairs. When Mother Gu opened the door, her eyes were swollen like eggs. But when she saw them, she smiled. “It’s raining outside. You didn’t get wet, did you?”
“Nope. Auntie, come try the makeup Wanwan and I bought for you,” Qiang Huai said, giving Gu Pingwan a look.
Gu Pingwan got the hint right away. “Mom, come check it out!”
“I don’t even know how to use these things,” Mother Gu said, looking at the colorful products.
“No worries, I brought labels. I’ll mark everything for you. Just follow the instructions,” Qiang Huai said, pulling out a label printer from a small box.
She carefully labeled each item and explained how to use them.
“Wanwan picked out most of these. When we were in Beijing, she was worried you weren’t taking good care of yourself,” Qiang Huai said, applying lipstick to Mother Gu. “I told her, ‘How could Auntie not take care of herself? Even alone, she should love life and go out looking her best every day.’”
Gu Pingwan felt ashamed. She had never considered her mother’s emotional well-being, while Qiang Huai was so thoughtful.
Her mother had never been nurturing when she was young. Maybe that was when she lost the ability to be nurturing herself.
“Thank you, Xiaohuai,” Mother Gu said. She knew this was all Qiang Huai’s idea. She knew her own daughter well.
She glanced at the shipping label. It had been mailed two or three days ago, clearly not some last-minute flattery after last night’s conversation.
That evening, after dinner at the Gu home, Qiang Huai prepared to leave.
Gu Pingwan walked her downstairs with an umbrella. “Be careful in the rain.”
Qiang Huai didn’t respond to that. Instead, she said, “Hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow.”
She habitually pulled out her phone and opened QQ, which Gu Pingwan noticed.
“You still use QQ?” she asked, remembering how she once peeked at Qiang Huai’s QQ space and saw her high level and login streak.
“Just a habit,” Qiang Huai replied casually.
“Hm?” Gu Pingwan tilted the umbrella slightly, just enough to shield them both under it.
“I used to wait for someone’s messages on there,” Qiang Huai smiled. “But not anymore.”
Gu Pingwan was confused, and under the rain, both of them quietly held their thoughts.