The Green Tea Actress Has Too Much After-Show Drama - Chapter 17

The room was stiflingly hot, forcing Yuan Chengyin to halt filming and turn on the air conditioning to cool down.

During the break, he overheard Qiu An, who had remained in the room, ask Ran Long:

“Xiao Ran, have you been dating anyone these past two years?”

“Do you have any idea what kind of hell I’ve been living through these past two years? Dating? As if I have time for that!”

“Then… what about casual dates?”

“None, none, absolutely none! I’m not like you! You’re out making money everywhere and going on dates everywhere!”

Qiu An paused, then said, “I haven’t either…”

Ran Long cut her off irritably, “Who gives a damn?”

Yuan Chengyin couldn’t stand it anymore. Ran Long’s talent for shutting down conversations was growing by the day. He couldn’t tell if she was doing it on purpose or if it was just her nature.

Seeing Qiu An leave the room with a dejected expression, Yuan Chengyin patted her shoulder to reassure her, while glaring at Ran Long to signal her to be more considerate.

Ran Long’s anger flared at the sight of the two standing shoulder-to-shoulder, their hearts seemingly connected. “Mind your own business!” she snapped.

Yuan Chengyin: Fine.

The room quickly cooled down, the set was prepared, and Ran Long settled back onto the sofa, beginning to unbutton her shirt.

Her heart pounded so fiercely that even her fingertips throbbed.

Ran Long had been acting since childhood. When she was young, her nerves hadn’t fully developed, so by the time she reached the age when she should have felt nervous, she had already grown accustomed to performing effortlessly under scrutiny and before cameras.

This was, as far as she could remember, the first time her heart had raced for a scene.

She couldn’t quite pinpoint what was making her so anxious.

It was as if, the moment her buttons were undone, exposing her chest to the cold air and Qiu An’s gaze, her body instinctively screamed for retreat. She desperately wanted to put her clothes back on.

Once the buttons were undone, Qiu An approached and knelt on the sofa again, positioning herself directly in front of Ran Long. Ever the gentleman, Qiu An was meticulously cautious, steadying herself against the armrest, the back of the sofa, and the wall, careful not to touch Ran Long at all.

She moved with deliberate care, her gaze fixed steadily on Ran Long’s eyes.

Ran Long lifted her head to meet Qiu An’s gaze.

It was a familiar, beautiful face. They had laughed and played together, sharing the most carefree and joyful period of their lives.

They had been close, occasionally sharing the same bed. During those times, Ran Long had bared her heart and confided a secret: her secret crush on Yuan Chengyin.

Together, they explored the blurry line between friendship and romantic love between women.

Like children sneaking a forbidden phone under the covers, they huddled beneath the blanket, the phone’s bright screen illuminating their faces as they searched for answers online.

Helpful netizens suggested they could determine their feelings by asking themselves: Do I want to kiss her? Do I want to sleep with her?

Qiu An asked Ran Long, “Do you want to kiss her?”

Ran Long replied, “That feels… strange. I can’t even imagine it. Maybe I need to try it to know?”

Qiu An then asked, “What about… do you want to kiss me?”

The memory faded. Ran Long couldn’t recall her answer, or even if Qiu An had actually asked that question. It was just a harmless joke, long forgotten.

She thought she heard Yuan Chengyin call “Action!”

“Shen Zixin,” Qiu An called out, a line not in the script. Perhaps she sensed Ran Long’s distraction and was trying to bring her back to the scene.

Qiu An’s hand slipped beneath Ran Long’s open shirt, lightly tracing her waist before climbing up her back. Her hand was no longer as cold as when she’d unbuttoned the shirt; it was slightly damp, as if she’d already rinsed it with warm water.

Qiu An’s breath, hot and slightly ticklish, brushed down Ran Long’s face.

Ran Long blinked, her gaze drifting downward to Qiu An’s crimson lips.

Saliva flooded her mouth. This close to Qiu An, even the slightest swallow seemed loud and conspicuous.

When she could bear it no longer, Ran Long cleared her throat, using it as an excuse to casually swallow the excess saliva.

Yuan Chengyin had wanted the effect of lipstick smeared by a kiss. Now, the lipstick clinging to Qiu An’s lips was thick and dazzling, a far cry from the subtle, charming look she’d worn that morning. She exuded a flamboyant, alluring sensuality.

Do you want to kiss her? Ran Long asked Shen Zixin in her mind.

Yes. Desperately. I want to sink into the abyss called Yu Youxuan and drown in her.

Ran Long asked herself the same question.

It seems I don’t not want to.

Then she could try. Perhaps after trying, she’d discover it felt quite good.

One, two, three. The bra was unfastened.

Br3ast petals were in place, so she didn’t need to worry about exposure. Yet the moment the two back clasps completely separated, she felt a sudden surge of panic.

Because she knew where the script was headed.

Qiu An’s eyes flickered, her brows lowered, and her body leaned forward without hesitation, pressing her lips against Ran Long’s.

Qiu An’s descent was swift and aggressive, yet when their lips finally met, Ran Long felt as if she were kissing a cloud.

Lighter than it looked, softer than she imagined.

It felt so good, so desired, that she couldn’t help wanting to deepen the kiss.

This was her first kiss.

Under the gaze of the entire crew, Ran Long had so easily surrendered her first kiss to Qiu An.

She didn’t particularly care about first kisses, but the scene felt absurdly melodramatic.

Here she was, kissing Qiu An—a woman who could be considered her rival—while Yuan Chengyin, the man they both secretly loved, sat nearby, pontificating like a king surveying his domain.

And she knew the truth:

Qiu An loved Yuan Chengyin; Yuan Chengyin loved someone else; and she herself loathed Qiu An.

“Cut! Cut! Cut!” Yuan Chengyin barked, sounding utterly dissatisfied. “Shen Zixin, why are you smiling? What’s distracting you?”

Oh, sorry. I got carried away.

“And Yu Youxuan, you…”

“Director Yuan, I know,” Qiu An interrupted again.

“Good. Just keep it under control.”

“Control what?” Ran Long asked, tilting her head in confusion. Qiu An’s complexion remained normal, and Ran Long couldn’t discern where she had slipped up this time.

Yuan Chengyin was renowned for her strict control over subtle emotions. With her keen eyes and strong intuition, she was particularly meticulous when directing intimate scenes. If a kiss or bedroom scene failed to convey the underlying emotions and necessary information, she would dismiss it with disdain, preferring to scrap it altogether.

As a result, whenever Ran Long reverted to seeing Qiu An as just Qiu An, she would be immediately stopped.

“Shen Zixin, were you avoiding the camera just now? Why are you hiding yourself? None of this is usable, do you understand?”

After repeated retakes, Yuan Chengyin grew increasingly impatient, and Ran Long’s composure began to crack under the criticism.

Qiu An, however, interjected from the side, “Director Yuan, it’s my fault. As the lead, I failed to guide her properly.”

Ran Long initially assumed Qiu An was playing her usual manipulative games, ready to retort, “Enough with the act already!” But to her surprise, Yuan Chengyin didn’t refute the claim, tacitly accepting it.

Ran Long glanced at Qiu An, then at Yuan Chengyin, and finally at the camera.

Something’s wrong. Terribly wrong.

She turned to the cameraman. “Wait, let me see the playback again.”

The most recent playback revealed nothing amiss, as Ran Long had turned her body to avoid the camera, inadvertently obscuring Qiu An’s face as well.

Rewinding one more clip, Ran Long noticed that Qiu An’s expression was indeed subtly off, unlike Yu Youxuan’s carefree and indifferent demeanor. It was tinged with personal emotion.

Ran Long scrolled back to the first clip and discovered that Qiu An hesitated for about half a second after their lips met.

During that brief pause, Qiu An’s expression shifted.

It became…

Shy?

The second and third clips each showed varying degrees of hesitation, significantly diminishing the aggressiveness of Yu Youxuan’s kisses.

Ran Long replayed the clips repeatedly, the two women locked in an endless loop of kisses on the screen.

Lost in the novelty of her discovery, Ran Long didn’t notice Qiu An turning her face away, even Yuan Chengyin’s weathered face flushing crimson. After all, these clips lacked the chemistry between Shen Zixin and Yu Youxuan; frankly, they were just Ran Long and Qiu An making out relentlessly.

“See? It’s all her fault for not cooperating properly!”

Sister Hou had just entered with a damp towel when she overheard this outrageous statement. She glared at her “ancestor” shamelessly shifting blame, feeling as if she’d been struck by lightning.

Yuan Chengyin corrected her: “Don’t shirk responsibility. You’re both equally at fault.”

After twenty takes, none met Yuan Chengyin’s desired effect.

Ran Long likely understood the root of her problem.

Initially, she had been anxious and uneasy. But after several takes, she found herself almost anticipating Qiu An’s kiss.

It was addictive.

Yet, just before she could fully surrender to the moment, her subconscious would scream: This is Qiu An. The man who stole your life by exploiting your sympathy.

You’re kissing Qiu An. You’re enjoying Qiu An’s kiss.

The contradiction was unbearable.

A kiss scene that should have taken less than twenty seconds ended up consuming the entire morning, requiring over thirty retakes.

News of the failed kiss scene spread quickly, casting a pall over the entire crew during lunch.

Yuan Chengyin, his face ashen, frantically flipped through the script. He even began calculating the feasibility of scrapping it entirely and rewriting it from scratch.

The Sound of Falling Leaves held immense significance for Yuan Chengyin. It was the second script he had obtained from Yao Ling, the first being Half a Lifetime, which had catapulted him to fame and success.

After his initial read-through of The Sound of Falling Leaves, Yuan Chengyin immediately approached Qiu An.

To his surprise, Qiu An responded with a single, decisive sentence: “I won’t take the role unless Ran Long is the other lead.”

Yuan Chengyin was furious.

She knew Ran Long had been wallowing in self-pity for a long time.

Before fully committing to live streaming, Ran Long had taken on roles in brainless historical romance dramas, mechanically reciting lines and blinking her eyes, devoid of any genuine acting. She was nothing like the ambitious, idealistic young girl Yuan Chengyin had once known.

Yuan Chengyin had tried to help Ran Long, but Ran Long stubbornly refused to listen to explanations, rejecting any “charity” with unwavering resolve. Yuan Chengyin was at a loss.

Unlike Qiu An, Yuan Chengyin lacked patience. Deep down, she didn’t share Qiu An’s sense of owing Ran Long anything.

Enraged that Qiu An was still trying to prop up this hopeless case, Yuan Chengyin declared, “I’ll shoot this without you!”

However, after a fruitless search for actors and auditions, she sheepishly returned to Qiu An to apologize.

The image of Yu Youxuan had become inextricably linked with Qiu An in her mind, leaving no room for any other actress.

As for Shen Zixin, his fate ultimately rested on Yu Youxuan’s whims.

Ah, what a tangled mess.

After lunch, Yuan Chengyin made the two women rehearse another kissing scene.

As before, each resisted the other, unwilling to open their hearts or surrender to their desires.

Yuan Chengyin had no choice but to have them skip the kissing scene and continue filming the scenes that followed.

As expected, if they couldn’t even capture the emotions of a simple kiss, how could they possibly grasp the lingering afterglow of a passionate embrace?

After a full day of filming, not a single usable shot had been captured. Yuan Chengyin teetered on the brink of collapse.

“Three days,” Yuan Chengyin declared fiercely.

Ran Long and Qiu An both turned to look at her.

“If you can’t adjust within three days, I’m walking off the set. After that, you can hire whoever you want to direct.”

She added as a final blow, “And I’m taking the script with me. You can film whatever you want.”

With that, Yuan Chengyin blinked, and tears and snot streamed down her face—a genuine breakdown.

Ran Long snatched the towel from Sister Hou’s hand without a word and began wiping Yuan Chengyin’s face.

Even Yuan Chengyin’s temper was wiped away by the gesture. Her tone softened, though her resolve remained firm. “I’m serious. You need to figure this out quickly. We’ll film this scene again in three days. If it’s still like this, we’ll either rewrite the script or replace both the script and the director.”

“I understand,” Qiu An replied.

“Okay,” Ran Long echoed.

From dawn till dusk, the kiss scene hadn’t progressed an inch. Yuan Chengyin even set a final deadline to ramp up the pressure.

Ran Long, her face etched with exhaustion, went to the restroom to relieve herself. When she came out, she saw Qiu An standing by the sink, as if waiting for her.

Qiu An didn’t speak, and Ran Long had nothing to say either.

After washing her hands, Ran Long gazed at her slightly haggard reflection in the mirror. Her lips looked swollen.

Oh my god, she thought. I sacrificed my first kiss for art, and even kissed my lips swollen for art!

Her lips had worked too hard. Feeling sorry for them, Ran Long wanted to give them a break. She dipped a fingertip in water and gently moistened her lips.

Unexpectedly, Qiu An, who hadn’t spoken for ages, suddenly demanded, “Why are you washing your mouth?”

Her tone was so harsh, as if Ran Long had violated some sacred law.

Ran Long: ???

“Why does it matter to you that I’m washing my mouth?”

“Did kissing me… make you uncomfortable?”

“What nonsense are you talking about?”

Ran Long wanted to deny it, but the opposite of “uncomfortable” was “comfortable.” She’d rather not contradict her.

Sigh, my entire life has been one misunderstanding after another.

“What do you want? You’ve been standing there for ages just to say that?”