The Green Tea Actress Has Too Much After-Show Drama - Chapter 15

“Let’s sleep together tonight.”

“No,” Ran Long refused decisively.

Though her words were polite, her thoughts were far less so: What a show-off! Back off! Back off! Back off!

“But you used to…”

“That was then, this is now! After everything we’ve been through, how can you pretend nothing happened? No sleeping together! I said no, and I mean it. Go back to your own room and let me rest.”

Ran Long rolled out of bed, gripped Qiu An’s slender shoulders, and pushed her out the door.

Qiu An didn’t resist, though a hint of disappointment flickered in her eyes.

She silently closed the door behind Ran Long. Unmoved by her consideration, Ran Long ruthlessly locked the door, determined to prevent any late-night complications.

It was 10:30 PM—not early, but not late enough to fall asleep naturally.

Ran Long turned off the main light and lay back in bed, tossing and turning as expected.

Every time she opened her eyes, she saw the script’s intimate descriptions of the two characters. When she closed them, the words instantly transformed into vivid images, the perspective shifting wildly between first and third person, leaving her deeply unsettled.

As filming progressed, similar scenes would only become more frequent and intense. Yuan Chengyin’s suggestion wasn’t entirely without merit. Sharing a night together might help foster some connection, even if she couldn’t fully reconcile her feelings. At the very least, it would allow their bodies to grow accustomed to each other.

As an actress, it was her duty to deliver her best performance to the audience, for which she was paid.

Ran Long switched on the light, slid out of bed, and put on her slippers. She took two deep breaths, trying to steel her nerves.

She grabbed her phone and pillow, then paused. Qiu An probably has two pillows already, she thought, putting it back down. She picked up the duvet, but its bulk made her feel absurdly comical as she draped it over her shoulder.

I’ll move it over after Qiu An agrees, she decided. After being rejected once, she might reject me in return.

Ran Long opened the door. The outside was pitch-black, save for a lone figure standing on the balcony, a faint glow flickering between her fingers.

“Qiu An?” Ran Long called out through the glass door, but Qiu An didn’t hear her.

Ran Long approached the balcony. Her fingers had just touched the sliding handle when Qiu An heard the movement behind her and turned her head.

Seeing Ran Long, Qiu An hastily stubbed out her cigarette and waved her hand through the air, as if trying to dispel the lingering smoke.

Ran Long slid open the glass door. Before she could speak, Qiu An cut her off: “It’s smoky here. Go inside and wait a moment.”

Qiu An had already changed out of her bathrobe into plain two-piece pajamas. Her half-dry hair hung loose over her shoulders. Unlike the arid climate of Beiji, the humid air of Crossing City left a lingering dampness on her neck.

It looked fragrant and tender.

Under the moonlight, Ran Long noticed an unusual embarrassment on Qiu An’s face, like a model student caught sneaking a cigarette in a corner by their parents or teachers.

In Ran Long’s memory, Qiu An didn’t smoke.

The bad student who smoked was Yuan Chengyin. Ran Long had once thought it looked cool and stole one of his cigarettes to try. Before she could even cough, Qiu An caught her red-handed and confiscated the cigarette.

Qiu An didn’t scold her, but she gave Yuan Chengyin a thorough dressing-down.

Looking back, Qiu An had almost a stepmotherly vibe—kind but distant, too polite to scold Ran Long directly for her mistakes, instead scolding her father’s wife.

Had Qiu An ever seen her as a romantic rival back then?

Or had Qiu An always treated her like a child?

It was absurd, really. How could a stepmother be adopted by her stepdaughter?

“What are you afraid of? I’m not your mother. I don’t care if you smoke.”

The words were barely out of Ran Long’s mouth before she regretted them.

Qiu An rarely spoke of her family, but judging by her demeanor when they first met, her mother might no longer be alive. Even if she were, she probably hadn’t treated Qiu An like a mother should.

Qiu An never spoke about her past, and even after she became famous, no one managed to uncover any concrete information about her background. Perhaps her PR team was exceptionally skilled, or perhaps she had changed her name, effectively concealing her past.

“I’m sorry,” Ran Long blurted out instinctively.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“…Nothing.” She couldn’t exactly say, “I’m sorry I forgot you don’t have a mother.”

“It’s so late. Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

“I… I think Yuan Chengyin’s suggestion wasn’t entirely unreasonable.”

Whether it was Ran Long’s imagination or not, she thought she saw Qiu An’s eyes brighten slightly. It was probably just the angle shifting, catching the moonlight.

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

“Umm… yeah.” The question sounded strange, and Ran Long’s response came out awkwardly.

“Then go wait for me in bed. I’ll take another shower first…”

No, this is getting weirder by the minute.

Ran Long interrupted her. “Wait, wait! Didn’t you just shower? Why another one? What are you planning? We’re just going to lie in bed and sleep, right? What are you going to do to me?”

“…To get rid of the smoke smell,” Qiu An finished her sentence.

A colossal misunderstanding.

Ran Long’s face flushed crimson, then turned purple.

After a long pause, she finally said, “This is such a hassle. If you want to sleep, just go to bed. We have an early shoot tomorrow. Aren’t you worried about getting puffy from the water and looking bad on camera?”

“Alright, your room or mine?”

Ran Long considered. Sleeping in her own room would give her a home-field advantage, making it easier to relax. But her underwear was drying there, a bright red expanse… It was her zodiac year, so she hadn’t worn disposable ones even once this year.

I hope Qiu An didn’t glance around too much when she barged in earlier.

Even though she’d openly shown them to Qiu An before, she just didn’t want her to see them now.

“Your room,” Ran Long replied.

Though Qiu An hadn’t showered, she changed into a clean set of pajamas.

Ran Long carried her own blanket to Qiu An’s bed. The hotel’s duvet was fluffy and the bed was large, but with two blankets piled on, it felt cramped.

After a moment’s thought, Ran Long took her blanket back to her own room.

Qiu An and Yuan Chengyin were right. They’d slept together before without incident. Suddenly acting awkward now would only make it seem like she had something to hide.

Having convinced herself, Ran Long boldly slipped into Qiu An’s bed.

The scent of herbs, wood, and citrus assaulted her senses, this time far more intense than before. It crashed into her nostrils and surged straight to the crown of her head.

“Achoo!”

The overwhelming fragrance tickled her nose, causing her to sneeze.

The cigarette smell isn’t the problem, she thought. It’s this perfume on the blanket that needs airing out.

What’s with this obsession? Does she think I’m Consort Xiang? If she loves it so much, she might as well bathe in the stuff.

Ran Long grabbed the blanket by two corners and stood up, mustering all her strength to whip it up and down. The rustling sound was strangely satisfying. As a child, Ms. Hu had made her shake out freshly made beds, and she’d stand on the mattress, pretending to be electrocuted as she flailed wildly.

With each upward swing, the perfume scent soared; with each downward fall, Qiu An materialized in the corner.

If Ran Long had epilepsy or a heart condition, Qiu An would have two deaths on her conscience today.

“Yikes! Ah! It’s you again! Didn’t I tell you not to sneak into my room without a word?”

“My apologies. But this is my room.”

“Tch!”

Qiu An watched Ran Long awkwardly carrying the blanket and asked, “What are you doing standing on the bed?”

“Why does your blanket smell so strongly of perfume? Even if you love the scent, you shouldn’t overdo it like this!”

“I accidentally spilled a little earlier.”

“What’s with messing around with perfume so late at night? Do you have to maintain your idol image even in your dreams?”

Qiu An smiled and shook her head.

Once the scent had dissipated somewhat, Ran Long let go of the blanket and sat obediently at the head of the bed, resting her head on the unwrinkled pillow. Her eyes followed Qiu An as she walked around the foot of the bed and sat down on the other side.

Shaking the blanket had given Ran Long a light workout, and the exercise seemed to have invigorated her mind as well.

Seeing Qiu An lingering at the edge of the bed, Ran Long knelt up and crawled behind her, wrapping her arms around Qiu An’s waist and pulling her into a tight embrace.

Two soft, warm mounds pressed against Qiu An’s back without warning, causing her to stiffen and her breath to catch in her throat.

“Qiu An,” Ran Long whispered, resting her head on Qiu An’s right shoulder, her lips close to her ear. “Do you like Yuan Chengyin?”

“What?”

Qiu An’s cheeks burned, her mind a muddled mess, barely registering Ran Long’s words.

Ran Long watched Qiu An’s ears grow increasingly red, her amusement deepening.

“I asked if you have a secret crush on Yuan Chengyin. Is that right?”

“I… I don’t! I don’t have a crush on him,” Qiu An stammered.

Playing hard to get, huh?

Ran Long chuckled softly, tightening her arm around Qiu An, pulling her closer.

The woman in her arms trembled slightly, a hint of moisture glistening in the corner of her alluring eyes. Her pale pink lips parted slightly, releasing a soft, long-suppressed moan.

Ran Long’s eyes widened, transfixed.

She had never truly studied Qiu An so closely before, never realized that the woman she had taken in out of kindness was actually such a bewitching fox spirit.

Unexpectedly, the image of that lingerie set from her purchase history flashed through her mind.

If she wore that…

Ran Long’s mouth went dry. If Yuan Chengyin were replaced with me, facing such temptation, I’d probably fall for her too.

“Xiao Ran…” Qiu An murmured softly.

Snapping back to reality, Ran Long pressed on relentlessly, “If it’s not a secret crush, then it must be an open one, right?”

The person in her arms struggled slightly, her voice panicked. “No! I don’t like her!”

Hmph, liar. Who would believe you?

Qiu An was stubborn, and Ran Long knew she wouldn’t get a word out of her.

But she had gotten the physical reaction she expected, so she released Qiu An and lay back in her own side of the bed.

“The pillow is the 38th parallel. Don’t cross it.”

“…Okay.”

Qiu An agreed and lay down as well. The flush on her face hadn’t faded, and she was still trying to calm her racing heart.

Ran Long politely turned off the light and turned her back to Qiu An.

Perhaps it was the perfume in the bedding, similar to the body lotion she used to use, that evoked pleasant memories and lulled Ran Long into a sweet sleep.

Hearing Ran Long’s breathing gradually deepen and even out, Qiu An propped herself up slightly and carefully crossed the 38th parallel. Gently, ever so gently, she laid her head on Ran Long’s pillow.

She curled up her legs, cautiously maintaining a distance from Ran Long’s body—not wanting to move away, yet afraid to get too close.

Only the fabric creasing at the tips of her knees lightly brushed against the nightgown draped over Ran Long’s exquisite figure.

Qiu An lay on her side, her hands clenched into fists and crossed before her. She quietly extended her index finger, idly twirling strands of Ran Long’s hair that lay scattered across the pillow.

The large, wavy curls remained, refusing to be straightened to conform to Shen Zixin’s original character design.

During makeup, the screenwriter saw her arrogant and domineering demeanor. Instead of reprimanding or doubting her, he felt this image suited Shen Zixin even better.

He was right. Compared to the later Yu Youxuan, Shen Zixin was actually the braver one.

She bravely accepted her ordinariness, never giving up despite living a monotonous life. She never betrayed her sincere, courageous heart, as bold as a newborn calf.

Ran Long’s scent-masking skills were limited; the perfume’s fragrance lingered strongly in the quilt.

Perhaps thinking about the kissing scene the next day, Qiu An felt a slight longing for Ran Long tonight.

She went to Ran Long, but Ran Long refused to sleep with her, leaving Qiu An feeling a little hurt.

So she took out the perfume, intending to spray a little on the quilt. But the bottle had been rolling around in her suitcase for too long, loosening the cap. She lost her grip and accidentally spilled some.

The perfume’s scent was overpowering, and Qiu An’s sensitive nose triggered a series of sneezes.

She had to open the window, switch the air conditioner to ventilation mode, and step onto the balcony for some fresh air.

The perfume was called “Wind Through Cedar.”

Its blend of woody, fruity, and herbal notes came from the same designer as the body lotion Ran Long had used in college, sharing the same fragrance formula.

Ran Long had simply bought it because she liked the bottle, but Qiu An had memorized the perfume’s name.

Ironically, if she hadn’t sensed they would one day part ways, she wouldn’t have needed to remember that name at all.