Thank You for the Invitation, I Successfully Held Hands with the Best Actress - Chapter 11

Mu Qiuyan’s long hair fluttered in the sea breeze, the strands occasionally obscuring her vision. She grabbed the fisherman’s hat from Ning Yu’s chair and placed it on her head.

“Help me secure it,” she said, taking a deep breath of the salty, sun-warmed ocean air, her face relaxing into a contented smile.

Ning Yu clutched the railing with one hand while fumbling through her pockets with the other, producing a few hair clips.

“Slow down, I’m scared!”

Mu Qiuyan burst into laughter at the sight of her clinging to the back of the seat, half her body curled up in fear. “I have a license, don’t worry!”

Ning Yu looked utterly miserable. “Sis! I can’t swim!”

After joyfully circling the waters a couple of times, though still exhilarated, Mu Qiuyan instinctively slowed the speedboat and leaned her head toward Ning Yu for help with the hat.

Ning Yu: “How do you even know how to do this?”

Mu Qiuyan: “For a previous film, the director wanted a speedboat scene, so I took lessons. By the time filming wrapped up, I had my license.”

Even while acting, she found time to get certified? Such dedication was rare even in the entertainment industry.

The two safely reached the island on their speedboat.

The filming crew had arrived earlier and were already setting up traffic lines along the greenway.

The possibility of fans coming to the island had been anticipated by the production team. Apart from the scheduled passenger ferry at 2 PM, all nearby speedboats had been rented out—both as a precaution and to minimize outsiders.

Ning Yu pedaled the tricycle with exaggerated effort, the metal buckets of sweet drinks clattering noisily in the back. Mu Qiuyan watched in amusement. “Miss Ning, take it easy! If all this spills, we won’t have anything to sell today!”

After about ten meters, Ning Yu finally found her rhythm, pedaling faster as the cargo stabilized.

LMAO, Ning Yu isn’t just elegant in the living room and skilled in the kitchen—she’s also a pro at tricycle pedaling!

Beautiful sis on a tricycle… this is hilarious. Isn’t the production team being a bit too harsh? There’s zero dignity left here.

The midday sun wasn’t yet at its strongest, casting a soft glow over Ning Yu’s nose. Beads of sweat glistened as they rolled down her fair, smooth cheeks. Her thin lips were pressed tightly together, occasionally exhaling warm breaths, her pearly teeth faintly gleaming.

Though Ning Yu faced the sunlight with determined enthusiasm, the sweat pouring down her face and her slightly gritted expression somewhat ruined the aesthetic.

In contrast, Mu Qiuyan—wearing sunglasses, a fisherman’s hat, and fully covered—strolled leisurely beside the tricycle in lightweight sneakers.

Occasionally, she glanced around, snapping photos with her phone. When tired, she simply hopped onto the back of the tricycle, swinging her legs as she basked in the sunlight.

Huffing and puffing, Ning Yu finally parked the tricycle near a small rest stop.

“If we set up shop here, we’ll have shelter in case it rains.”

Mu Qiuyan shielded her eyes, gazing up at the clear, cloudless blue sky. “The forecast didn’t mention rain, did it?”

Ning Yu pulled out two lounge chairs from the tricycle and set them by the roadside, motioning for Mu Qiuyan to relax.

“Just preparing for the unexpected.”

“Tsk tsk tsk, can’t bear to look, really can’t bear to look.”

“Wuwuwu, I also want a girlfriend who can take me for rides on a tricycle.”

“Me! Me! I can ride one!”

“Naive, is the tricycle the point here? Good looks are what matter!”

“With someone as good-looking as Ning Yu or Mu Qiuyan, forget riding a tricycle—I’d carry them on my back every day to set up a street stall.”

“Uh… that’s really not necessary. You wouldn’t find one anyway.”

“What about this pair? @HumanLoveObserver, seems like there might be a spark of romance here.”

“Pfft, it’s just basic politeness between strangers. Where’s the romantic spark? Must be blind.”

“Is it just me, or does Ning Yu seem much more polite toward Mu Qiuyan today? Is this ‘keeping a respectful distance’?

“But at breakfast, Ning Yu stole glances at Mu Qiuyan no less than ten times. That kind of unconcealable affection—isn’t that an obvious sign of attraction?”

“Got caught by Actress Mu and turned away blushing—the telltale stench of romance. In contrast, Actress Mu is the colder one, right? Aside from friendly conversation, there’s no hint of flirtation. She’s definitely got the upper hand.”

“But Mu Qiuyan is clearly talking more to Ning Yu. Look at the contrast with others—poor little Xu Yi ran up excitedly to say he was her fan and only got a faint smile in return.”

Mu Qiuyan watched Ning Yu busily setting up the stall, her gaze shifting constantly. The fresh minty scent from last night seemed to drift back to her.

Unconsciously, she licked her lips and frowned.

Was it really not her?

The strong aroma of alcohol and the light mint scent were completely opposite pheromone profiles. It seemed Ning Yu truly wasn’t the person from that night.

Mu Qiuyan rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small portable tube of ointment, then walked over to Ning Yu.

Ning Yu was fiddling with plastic cups and straws, arranging everything within easy reach. This was her first time setting up a stall, so she could only imitate what she’d seen.

Just then, a delicate hand reached over, gently offering a white tube of ointment.

“This is bruise ointment. It works fast—the swelling should go down in a few hours after applying it.”

Ning Yu looked up at Mu Qiuyan.

Mu Qiuyan covered her lapel mic and whispered, mouthing the words: “Actually, last night, I meant to give you this ointment, but…” She didn’t finish the sentence.

Ning Yu glanced at the cameraman nearby and removed her own mic. “I didn’t bring a mirror, so it’s hard to apply. I’ll have to trouble you, Miss Mu.”

Mu Qiuyan blinked, then followed suit and took off her mic.

The two moved under the shade of a tree—one sitting, the other half-kneeling to apply the ointment.

“What are they doing? Do you need to be that close to apply ointment?”

Mu Qiuyan sat on a lounge chair while Ning Yu leaned halfway between her legs. Fortunately, Mu Qiuyan was wearing loose sportswear today—otherwise, the skin-to-skin contact would have made the scene even more “unbearable to watch.”

The bump on Ning Yu’s head had turned bluish-purple from last night’s second impact. Since it was her fault, Mu Qiuyan felt responsible.

She dabbed a bit of the milky ointment and carefully applied it to Ning Yu’s forehead. Being so close, her breath brushed against Ning Yu’s hair, making Ning Yu unconsciously fidget with her fingers.

“About last night, I promise not to tell anyone. It’s just… I know it’s your privacy, but I still want to ask—what exactly is your condition?”

Mu Qiuyan’s fingers paused slightly. “That’s none of your business. Why do you ask?”

Ning Yu: “I… just saw you like that and felt… worried.”

Mu Qiuyan lowered her gaze, her dark lashes casting shadows over her eyes. “I’ve lived like this for over a decade. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Over a decade?

Ning Yu: “There’s no way to treat it?”

Mu Qiuyan thought of that permanent mark and momentarily lost control of her grip.

“Mu-jie, that hurts. Be gentler.”

Ning Yu looked up, her voice slightly hoarse, only to realize how close their faces were—almost touching. She could count each of Mu Qiuyan’s distinct eyelashes.

In the mingling of their breaths, that sticky, tantalizing sense of ambiguity wrapped around them once more.

Mu Qiuyan’s breath hitched, her fingers trembling before she forced herself to steady them. The sunlight seemed to have warmed her ears, tinting them with an annoying flush.

“If it’s an illness, there must be a way to treat it. But that has nothing to do with you, Miss Ning. All you need to do is help me keep this secret.”

Her movements softened as she applied the ointment, then leaned in to blow gently on the wound.

A shiver ran down Ning Yu’s spine. “Mu-jie, you…”

Mu Qiuyan: “Blowing on it helps it heal faster. When I was little and got hurt, my mother did the same.”

Being so close, Ning Yu once again fell into the intoxicating web of Mu Qiuyan’s faint cedarwood scent. The glands at the back of her neck pulsed with a restless craving, her legs growing weak.

Seeing the sweat beading on Ning Yu’s forehead, Mu Qiuyan thought she had been too rough. “Bear with it a little longer. I’ll just apply one more layer and—”

Before she could finish, Ning Yu, whose legs had gone numb from crouching, collapsed into her arms.

The sudden loss of strength sent Ning Yu stumbling forward with too much momentum, bumping into Mu Qiuyan’s soft abdomen. The two of them tumbled onto the lounge chair together.

The chair creaked under their combined weight, barely holding up.

The live audience watching the stream exploded at the sight.

Ahhh, my mind is no longer pure!

This scene is too beautiful—is this something I can watch for free?! Thank goodness it’s live; if it were recorded, the whole segment would’ve been cut!

Director, cut this part! Cut it!

The cameraman was clearly startled too, now facing the dilemma of whether to cover the lens.

His mind raced—the director had instructed that if things got out of hand or if something unairable happened, he should immediately shift the camera away.

But only a dirty mind sees filth in everything. What happened between Ning Yu and Mu Qiuyan was just… an accident. They fell while applying ointment—was that really such a big deal?

It’s nothing, right?

Totally innocent.

Mu Qiuyan winced from the impact on her stomach, momentarily unable to get up, while Ning Yu, pressed against the woman’s warm, soft abdomen, flushed with embarrassment.

What an idiot! She couldn’t hold on for just a little longer?

And now she’d fallen right on top of her.

Ning Yu quickly scrambled up, supporting herself on the chair. Seeing Mu Qiuyan’s furrowed brows and irritated expression, she nervously crouched beside her. “A-are you… okay? I-I didn’t mean to…”

So flustered she could barely speak properly.

“Suddenly I can’t hold on anymore. Maybe it’s from pedaling that tricycle earlier—my legs are a bit sore.” Of course Ning Yu couldn’t admit she’d been staring mesmerized at Mu Qiuyan, so she casually blamed the three-wheeled vehicle instead.

Mu Qiuyan remained silent, only reaching down to rub her abdomen.

Growing anxious at the sight, Ning Yu blurted out without thinking, “Want me to massage it for you?”

Hearing this, Mu Qiuyan opened her eyes and glared at Ning Yu angrily, about to say something when she suddenly froze.

“You… why are you having a nosebleed?”