The Green Tea Actress Has Too Much After-Show Drama - Chapter 26

A month always passes quickly, even when you’re working day and night on a film set.

Filming in Crossing City was nearing its end, and the typhoon season had arrived. Yuan Chengyin visibly grew more anxious, constantly checking his phone for the latest typhoon track updates.

Ran Long, who hadn’t filmed so intensely day after day in a long time, actually hoped for a few torrential downpours to give her a few days off.

Despite Yuan Chengyin’s fervent prayers and a row of paper teru teru bozu dolls hanging everywhere, the heavy rains arrived as scheduled. Yao Ling, seeing the gloomy weather, was overjoyed and clamored for Yuan Chengyin to add a melodramatic scene: a hair-pulling argument in the rain followed by a tearful reconciliation hug.

The most absurd part? Yuan Chengyin agreed.

Ran Long tried to refuse, citing Qiu An’s delicate health, but Qiu An spent the entire night gazing at her with such overwhelming gratitude that Ran Long felt compelled to explain:

“Oh, I just didn’t want to get wet. I made up an excuse—don’t take it too seriously.”

Ran Long stood in the torrential rain, her eyes blurred and her body trembling, utterly bewildered.

How could Qiu An have agreed so readily just because Yuan Chengyin invited them to a hot spring?

“What’s wrong? A big star like you can’t afford a hot spring?”

“I’m used to being poor. Even with all this wealth now, I can’t help but be drawn to these little bargains.”

“…Are you serious?”

Qiu An shook her head.

Returning to the hotel, drenched despite having already eaten dinner, Ran Long ordered a late-night snack. As usual, it was oden, but this time with two cups of ginger tea.

After showering and retrieving the takeout, she casually called Qiu An over, saying, “I ordered extra to meet the minimum for delivery. I can’t finish it all myself.”

Qiu An thanked her, accepted the ginger tea, and sat beside Ran Long, sipping it slowly. The upward curve of her lips was an involuntary reaction, impossible to suppress.

Noticing Qiu An’s awkwardness, Ran Long offered her a few radish balls.

After finishing the oden, Qiu An proactively cleaned up the trash. Once done, she returned to her room without another word.

Ran Long wasn’t sure what she had been expecting.

Since filming their most intimate kissing scene, Qiu An had stopped bothering Ran Long so frequently.

She no longer asked to sleep together, and there were no more kisses.

What bothered Ran Long most was that Qiu An hadn’t even asked her to eat together again.

It wasn’t that she particularly wanted to eat with Qiu An, but everyone else in the crew gathered in groups, and being alone felt a bit lonely.

But with Qiu An not reaching out, Ran Long couldn’t bring herself to take the initiative.

Maybe I should ask Yuan Chengyin to eat with me, Ran Long thought, but Yuan Chengyin was busy, and their relationship was in an awkward middle ground. Besides, perhaps it was her age, but the woman kept spouting clichés that made Ran Long want to call her “Auntie.”

So it was best for Qiu An to stay away. Ran Long didn’t want to suddenly gain two more “aunties” out of nowhere.

In the end, Sister Hou was the only candidate left to eat with Ran Long. But Sister Hou preferred spending time with Xi Xi.

When did those two become so close? Ran Long wondered. Did they bond over gossip?

Sometimes they’d set up a long bench in front of the RV. Xi Xi would sit on it, holding her meal tray, while Sister Hou, being petite with small hands, couldn’t manage the tray. Instead, she’d place her boxed lunch on the bench and squat on the ground to eat.

People bustled past, and occasionally passersby would pull up their own benches to join them.

Ran Long and Qiu An sat separately in their RVs, watching the lively scene outside, which only made the interiors feel emptier and colder.

To prevent paparazzi from taking photos, the curtains in Qiu An’s RV were always drawn, though she occasionally left a half-curtain open to let in a sliver of light.

The half-open window was always on the side facing Ran Long.

Ran Long swore that day was excruciatingly boring.

There was nothing new on the forums or Weibo, so she hid behind the curtains, opened the camera app on her phone, and zoomed in, in, and in on Qiu An’s window.

She saw Qiu An staring at her phone, a mysterious smile playing on her lips.

Ran Long’s heart pounded. I’m going to discover Qiu An’s romance before the paparazzi do! she thought.

She focused the camera on Qiu An’s tightly clenched phone, only to see a retro-style webpage on the screen.

So familiar… Ran Long realized. Qiu An reads entertainment forums too.

Well, I was the one who introduced her to them in the first place.

No wonder she’s so happy! The posts about me are either showering me with compliments or shipping me with Yuan Chengyin. What’s not to love?

Just as she was muttering to herself, Qiu An suddenly turned her head and looked directly in Ran Long’s direction.

Ran Long’s hand trembled in fright, and her phone slipped, falling into the gap between the seats…

As Ran Long rummaged through her phone, she couldn’t help but think that Qiu An was like an addictive poison to her.

She knew this woman was bad news—putting on one face in public and another behind closed doors, constantly deceiving her. Yet, when Qiu An hadn’t been intimate with her for a while, she found herself longing for her.

It felt like withdrawal symptoms.

Especially when Qiu An was right there, within sight.

Yu Youxuan’s husband, children, and the other actors whose scenes in Crossing City had wrapped up had already left. The number of people remaining in the city dwindled, and the hotel grew increasingly empty.

Ran Long couldn’t help but wonder: once filming wrapped, she received her remaining salary, and Qiu An felt she had atoned for her sins, would she cut off all contact?

Would their relationship end the moment the film wrapped?

Logically, there would still be a slew of promotional events, premieres, and award submissions. If the film was nominated for major awards, they could remain entangled for another year or two.

Would Qiu An attend these events? Even if she faced media backlash and backlash from radical fans, would she persist?

To what lengths would Qiu An go out of guilt? And for how long?

Sister Hou leaned over a bench, tapping a spoonful of tender steamed egg custard in her takeout container.

Shallow puddles from the recent rain remained at her feet, not yet evaporated. With each tap of the custard, she stomped into a puddle, thoroughly enjoying herself.

Xi Xi sat nearby, watching Sister Hou with amusement.

Seizing Xi Xi’s moment of distraction, Sister Hou asked, “Do you know what gossip they’re spreading? No one will tell me anything. It’s about Ran Long, so asking me directly would be the most straightforward approach!”

Xi Xi smiled. “Some gossip is only interesting as long as it remains unverified.”

“Like what?” Sister Hou’s eyes sparkled, feeling particularly clever for having devised such a brilliant way to pry information.

Reluctant to dash her hopes, Xi Xi revealed, “For example, Ran Long and Qiu An didn’t develop feelings for each other on set.”

Qiu An’s feelings have been brewing for a while now, but as for Ran Long… at least not yet, Xi Xi added mentally.

“Tch, that’s all? Even ignoring their sexual orientations, it’s obvious those two aren’t dating!” Sister Hou immediately grasped the depths of human boredom and ignorance.

Noticing her dissatisfaction, Xi Xi switched tactics. “Another example: they were never actually together.”

“Hmm, I could have guessed that.”

Xi Xi couldn’t imagine Ran Long in a romantic relationship. Would she act all day like she did during her livestreams, putting on that cutesy act? The thought sent a chill down her spine.

Sister Hou wanted to press Xi Xi for more information, but seeing she wasn’t inclined to reveal more, she decided to take a direct approach.

“Xi Xi~” she cooed, mimicking Ran Long’s livestream persona.

The familiar voice startled Xi Xi, making her jump.

“W-what do you want?”

“Would you say we’re pretty close now?”

Xi Xi paused, then replied, “I guess, barely.”

“Then… would you like to take our relationship further?”

Xi Xi froze, the Kung Pao chicken in her mouth suddenly tasting bland.

“What?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“How about we become friends?”

Sister Hou’s straight-minded brain hadn’t considered any other interpretation; she simply thought the phrasing sounded more mysterious.

Xi Xi, however, felt like she was being toyed with. Her face flushed green, and she instinctively refused, “I don’t want to.”

“Huh?” Now it was Sister Hou’s turn to be confused. “Wait, shouldn’t a normal person just say yes at this point?”

“If you want to know about what happened back then, you don’t need to go to all this trouble. I can tell you what I know.”

“But… you really don’t want to be friends?” Sister Hou wore the pitiful expression of a rejected puppy.

Xi Xi’s heart softened. “I was just teasing. We can be friends.”

“Yay!”

Xi Xi recounted the events of that year to Sister Hou, deliberately omitting the fact that Qiu An had a secret crush on Ran Long. She also had no way of knowing the details of Qiu An and Yuan Chengyin’s relationship, but judging by Qiu An’s evasive behavior, it couldn’t have been anything good.

The story of Ran Long and Qiu An surprisingly began with Yuan Chengyin. Qiu An claimed it wasn’t a tragic love triangle, but Xi Xi found that hard to believe.

That year, Yuan Chengyin had just graduated and joined Lively Motion Pictures as an assistant director. Despite the title, his job was essentially a jack-of-all-trades, handling everything from casting and location scouting to scheduling and other miscellaneous tasks.

At the time, the then-unknown Xi Xi received an equally obscure script titled Half a Lifetime.

Yuan Chengyin wrote a proposal for the script and submitted it to the company’s executives, hoping for a stroke of luck.

To his surprise, the executives were highly impressed with the script.

However, they deemed Yuan Chengyin too inexperienced and wanted to bypass him, assigning the script to another director. Fortunately, Yao Ling, the screenwriter of Half a Lifetime, adamantly refused. Left with no other choice, Lively Motion Pictures had to compromise.

The final agreement was that Lively Motion Pictures would fund the project, with Yuan Chengyin directing, but the company would retain final say over casting decisions.

“So, Qiu An snatched Ran Long’s role under these circumstances?”

“You could say that, but the situation was more complicated than that.”

With Yuan Chengyin’s strong recommendation, Lively Motion Pictures had almost decided to cast Ran Long as the female lead.

However, Lively Motion Pictures wasn’t just interested in Ran Long’s acting skills; they were even more eager to capitalize on her father, Ran Cheng’s, fame.

But shortly before the contract was finalized, Ran Cheng was exposed for gambling debts.

“I remember there was also an affair, right?”

“The affair happened much earlier, but it resurfaced around the same time.”

“Oh.”

With Ran Cheng’s wealth and reputation gone, Lively Motion Pictures saw Ran Long as having no further value. Moreover, they deemed casting her as the lead too risky and immediately decided to replace her.

“Wait a minute! Why would Lively Motion Pictures want Ran Long as the lead again? Her reputation and image aren’t exactly stellar right now, are they?”

“That’s because… Lively Motion Pictures isn’t the sole producer of this film. They secured external investment and only provided the production team, led by Yuan Chengyin.”

“Huh? Really? How did I not know that?”

“Well… perhaps the actual producers prefer to keep a low profile.”

“So, Lively Motion Pictures replaced Ran Long with Qiu An because of Ran Cheng’s scandal?”

“You could say that.”

Seeing that Ran Long couldn’t be saved, Yuan Chengyin recommended Qiu An, his personal favorite candidate, to take her place.

Of course, Qiu An had no connections. She earned Lively Motion Pictures’ favor through rigorous auditions and selections.

“That’s the truth as I know it. But Ran Long refuses to accept this version of events. She believes Qiu An orchestrated Ran Cheng’s scandal to surface at that precise moment, and…” Xi Xi hesitated, pausing mid-sentence.

“And what?”

Xi Xi glanced toward the RV, making sure Qiu An and Ran Long were still inside and behaving themselves. She continued, “Ran Long also suspects that Qiu An secured the role by having an inappropriate relationship with Yuan Chengyin.”

“Oh, right! She seemed to hint at that in the slap video. This… this is slander, isn’t it? How can Ran Long be so emotional?”

Sister Hou’s elbow nearly jabbed into Xi Xi’s chest.

Xi Xi remained noncommittal.

When Qiu An first established her studio, she faced countless obstacles. Xi Xi had witnessed her ruthless, even devious, tactics firsthand.

She knew Qiu An’s public image was carefully crafted in collaboration with her manager, and that despite Qiu An’s deliberate restraint, she harbored an unusually strong desire to control Ran Long.

After spending over a month with Ran Long, Xi Xi had come to understand her as well.

While Ran Long’s brain might not be the sharpest, her heart was far from malicious.

Without concrete evidence, she would never have fabricated such a scandalous rumor.

Xi Xi didn’t know what evidence Ran Long had seen, but she knew that no matter how furious Ran Long became, that evidence had never surfaced online.