She Said: A Passionate Kiss [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 52
When they got off the plane, Gu Pingwan was retrieving her bag. Qin Feng wanted to help her but couldn’t get out of his seat. A flight attendant saw that she couldn’t get her bag down from the overhead compartment and came over to help.
“Thank you,” Gu Pingwan said as she accepted the bag. Then she asked, “Can I buy this magazine?”
The flight attendant was momentarily stunned. “Ma’am, no need to buy it. It’s yours.”
“This is an old issue. I don’t even know why it’s still here, but please feel free to take it,” he explained after noticing Gu Pingwan looked a little embarrassed.
“Thank you.” She tucked the magazine into her bag.
Qin Feng was amazed. “You like her that much?”
Gu Pingwan pursed her lips and nodded, a little shy.
……
By late July, the weather was scorching.
The research team was working around the clock, finalizing the last procedures. China’s space station module Wentian was scheduled to launch at 2:00 PM Beijing time on July 24, 2022.
The beach outside was crowded with reporters. CCTV and other media outlets were covering the event extensively.
A successful launch would mean China’s technology had reached the forefront of the world.
As an aerospace simulation engineer, Gu Pingwan stood alongside other researchers in the control room. Everyone wore blue and white uniforms. Under the camera lens, Gu Pingwan’s eyes were resolute. She focused on the screen before her, carefully reporting each piece of normal data one by one.
In her earpiece came the cross-room communication:
“Launch countdown: one minute!”
“Launch countdown: 50 seconds!”
Xiaoyu returned from outside with iced coffee. She opened the door and found Qiang Huai standing in the hallway, watching the livestream after finishing her scene.
“Miss Qiang, that’s Chief Engineer Gu!” Xiaoyu gasped. On Qiang Huai’s phone screen was Gu Pingwan.
Qiang Huai smiled faintly. “Isn’t she beautiful? She’s mine.”
The livestream’s comment section was full of floating comments:
“SOS this researcher is so beautiful!”
“She’s gorgeous and smart!”
Others in the film crew were watching the stream too. Shen Xing was holding her phone and a coffee.
She walked over. “Miss Qiang, you’re watching the rocket launch too?”
“Mhm.” Qiang Huai responded politely and turned her attention back to her phone.
“Haha, these researchers seem to work even harder than we do as actors,” Shen Xing commented as she leaned closer. Qiang Huai instinctively stepped back.
“They do work much harder than us,” Qiang Huai replied.
Shen Xing pouted, “That female researcher is actually quite pretty.”
The camera showed Gu Pingwan muttering under her breath—it seemed like she was counting down.
“She’s my high school classmate,” Qiang Huai said proudly, with an expression Shen Xing had never seen on her before.
“She’s impressive,” Shen Xing started to say more, but Qiang Huai shushed her.
“Let’s quietly watch the livestream,” she said, putting a finger to her lips.
The countdown echoed from the screen:
“20 seconds…”
“Ten, nine, eight… one, ignition!”
“Liftoff, T0, fifteen hours, thirty-three minutes, twenty-three seconds, 191 milliseconds!”
The comment section lit up with:
“Long live our motherland”
“Next stop: the stars and the sea”
Even Shen Xing fell silent, as the people watching outside erupted into cheers.
The footage showed the rocket ascending from the ocean horizon, children waving Chinese flags in the background—a moment of human advancement.
“Telemetry signal normal, adjusting trajectory.”
“Flight signals stable.”
On the screen in Gu Pingwan’s control room, the rocket’s flight path simulation showed everything going smoothly.
“Booster shutdown, booster separation.”
Thunderous applause erupted. Gu Pingwan let out a breath of relief—her part of the work was mostly done.
She pulled a photo from her pocket, one cut from a magazine featuring Qiang Huai. Holding up the picture, she looked around the control room as if Qiang Huai were really there.
“Payload fairing separation.”
“Telemetry signal normal.”
The rocket’s engine continued functioning steadily.
The livestream suddenly cut to Gu Pingwan’s station. On her desk sat the magazine photo of Qiang Huai, and she was intently focused on her screen.
Some eagle-eyed netizens noticed:
“Wait, isn’t that Qiang Huai’s magazine next to the researcher?”
“Yeah yeah! That’s her New Year issue!”
A few trolls snarked:
“Pfft, that magazine is probably just being used as a mousepad.”
But fans quickly jumped in:
“Everyone focus on the rocket launch! No arguing!”
“Flight time: 496.843.”
“Module separation complete.”
The control room burst into cheers—Wentian had entered its planned orbit, and the mission was a complete success.
Behind the much-anticipated rocket was a crowd of diligent, unsung heroes gazing at the stars. We might not know their names, but they’ve brought us closer to the brilliance of space.
Gu Pingwan’s eyes welled with tears. Ji Zheping came over and pulled her in front of the LED banner for a group photo with the other professors.
“Xiaowan, why are you crying?” Ji Zheping’s usually wrinkled face was radiant with joy.
Gu Pingwan smiled and dabbed at her tears with a tissue from her pocket. “I’m just so happy.”
“Come on, let’s take a photo.”
In the photo stood Ji Zheping, Gu Pingwan, Qin Feng, and many other dedicated researchers—among the mostly male crowd, the female scientists stood out all the more.
Viewers of the livestream teared up in empathy too. Some even realized—wait, wasn’t this Gu Pingwan the one from that viral Weibo post?
Qiang Huai, watching the livestream, couldn’t help but smile and messaged Gu Pingwan:
“Congrats on a successful launch!”
“Wifey is amazing! Wifey, mwah!”
For the past two months, they’d only exchanged a few messages each day, with only the occasional overlap. Often, Qiang Huai would send ten texts and only get a reply from Gu Pingwan around midnight.
But it hadn’t dulled their feelings for each other.
After leaving the control center, the follow-up work would be handled by others. For simulation engineers like Gu Pingwan, the job was basically done once the rocket launched. Ji Zheping gave her a full week off.
Changing out of her uniform, Gu Pingwan retrieved her phone from her locker. When she saw Qiang Huai’s message, she immediately called her.
“Ah Huai, thank you.” She leaned against the locker, the cheers still audible in the distance though no one else was nearby.
Qiang Huai picked up, “Hmm? Thank me for what?”
Gu Pingwan bit her lip, her voice hoarse and eyes moist. “Thank you for encouraging me back in high school. Thank you for helping me believe in myself when I was lost.”
Qiang Huai cleared her throat. “Ahem, if you’re that grateful, treat me to a meal.”
She could tell Gu Pingwan had cried from the sound of her voice.
“Sure. Where are you?” Gu Pingwan asked. The emotion from earlier dissipated in the warmth of Qiang Huai’s bright tone.
“I’m in Jin City.” Qiang Huai was heading abroad next week for two more weeks of filming. Currently, she was in Jin City shooting scenes for the suspense part of the movie.
The scenery in Jin City made it ideal for filming thrillers—Qiang Huai’s previous suspense film had been shot there too.
Gu Pingwan checked the time. “Wait for me.”
She said “wait for me,” but it took her two full days to arrive in Jin City.
She had to finish handing over other work before leaving, which Qiang Huai completely understood.
When Gu Pingwan returned, it started raining as soon as she got off the plane. Qiang Huai, wearing a mask and sunglasses, came to pick her up.
“Over here!” Qiang Huai sent a message with a photo from the arrival gate.
Dragging her suitcase, Gu Pingwan walked out and spotted Qiang Huai holding a bouquet of white roses. She quickened her steps.
“Engineer Gu, flowers for you.” Qiang Huai handed her the bouquet.
Gu Pingwan chuckled—white roses again. She remembered Qiang Huai had used them to confess before, and now she was using them to welcome her back.
“Thanks. You really like white roses, huh?” she asked, taking the flowers. Qiang Huai naturally took over pulling her suitcase.
“Do you know the meaning of white roses?” Qiang Huai blinked at her.
“No, what?”
“They represent pure love.” Qiang Huai tugged her mask down. If they weren’t in public, she would’ve kissed Gu Pingwan’s soft lips right then and there.
Gu Pingwan smiled. “Oh, really?”
“Of course.” Qiang Huai beckoned with a finger. As Gu Pingwan leaned in, she whispered, “Tonight might not be so pure though.”
Gu Pingwan’s ears turned red instantly. She hurried ahead to escape.
“Wait for me! The car’s this way!” Qiang Huai called after her, laughing.
……
They didn’t eat out and instead returned to Qiang Huai’s villa. Gu Pingwan’s mother had come earlier to borrow the car, and she happened to still be there.
“Mom.” Gu Pingwan beamed when she saw her.
Her mother’s eyes grew moist as she looked at her daughter’s face. “You’ve worked hard. I watched the livestream.”
“My daughter is amazing.” She gave her a thumbs-up. “If your father were still alive, he’d be proud of you too.”
Qiang Huai was cooking in the kitchen—a rare occurrence. Since her future mother-in-law was here, she had to show off her skills.
Gu Pingwan handed her mother a tissue. “Mom, all these years… have you ever thought of remarrying?”
Her mother gently thumped her arm. “What nonsense.”
“I only ever loved your father,” she said, glancing toward Qiang Huai in the kitchen, then added, “Someday, you’ll understand.”
And it was true—after Gu’s father passed away, her mother had been withdrawn for years. She couldn’t let go, so she simply chose not to.
Qiang Huai had made a few simple Sichuan dishes, and they looked pretty good.
“Auntie, please try this kung pao chicken I made.” Qiang Huai served her a spoonful.
“It’s delicious,” her mother said, surprised at how good it tasted.
“Mmm, it’s really good! You can make this too?” Gu Pingwan was impressed.
Qiang Huai whispered, “When I was dieting, I couldn’t resist cravings after eating all those bland meals, so I secretly learned to cook these.”
The two women burst out laughing.
“Oh right,” her mother suddenly asked, “Do your parents approve of you being with Xiaowan?”
Qiang Huai had vaguely mentioned it to her parents before but hadn’t returned home since. She was a bit nervous—what if they didn’t approve?
But this was her life. Whether they agreed or not, she’d stand her ground.
They hadn’t been involved in her life for years—what right did they have to interfere now?
“They listen to me,” Qiang Huai replied.
“Then let’s find a chance for both our families to meet,” Gu’s mother said, refilling her bowl.
Gu Pingwan suddenly felt awkward. Why did it feel like she was about to get married?