The Paranoid Film Queen Doesn’t Want to Remarry - Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Yan Muyu brought Xu Weishuang into the car.
She had been drinking and naturally couldn’t drive. Originally, she had planned to call a designated driver later, but unexpectedly, she ran into Xu Weishuang.
The underground parking garage was very quiet at this hour, with no one else around. Yan Muyu led Xu Weishuang to the back seat and got in with her.
Things had developed to this point—Yan Muyu looked at the girl beside her, her eyes dazed yet focused. She truly couldn’t tell if Xu Weishuang was clear-headed or lost in a drunken haze.
Just earlier, Xu Weishuang’s cool voice had been broken by the wind—fragile, with tones of longing and the desire to please. So obedient that it made one’s heart ache to touch her.
Yan Muyu had been intoxicated by that look and brought her away. Now, seated in the car and sobering up, she began to feel a headache creeping in.
Even now, Xu Weishuang, who had boldly asked for a kiss earlier, was only quietly gazing at Yan Muyu—like a docile cat—calmly waiting for her next move.
How ridiculous.
Yan Muyu rubbed her temples in frustration.
But she wasn’t planning on actually doing anything.
A rising young actress, newly popular, carrying a cold and proper image, completely naïve about the ways of the world.
No matter how she thought about it, the aftermath would be a mess.
“Not going to do it?” After Yan Muyu remained motionless for a long while, Xu Weishuang finally spoke.
She sounded completely sober, her tone steady—yet the words she uttered were shocking.
Yan Muyu even started to suspect this girl was just pretending to be drunk to deceive her.
“Where do you live? I’ll call a driver to send you home,” Yan Muyu shook her head and gave Xu Weishuang a smile.
It was the same persona she always showed on screen—one she had played for years.
Gentle, patient, empathetic.
Lately, she had gotten so good at it that even her friends—and she herself—could barely tell what she was really like anymore.
But then Xu Weishuang suddenly cupped her face, sorrowful eyes locking onto her, gaze falling finally on the enticing mole at the corner of Yan Muyu’s eye.
Seeing her confused expression, Xu Weishuang said, “If you don’t want to smile, why do you force yourself to?”
Yan Muyu’s expression darkened slightly at the question. But the mask didn’t crack—only paused for a moment before the smile returned to her eyes.
“You’re drunk, little one,” her tone softened even more, as she gently pried Xu Weishuang’s fingers away from her cheek.
Xu Weishuang nodded honestly.
She seemed to know her state, but her head was burning, unable to think clearly about what was happening.
Normally, she wouldn’t tear away someone’s mask so easily. Not because Yan Muyu was bad at pretending, but because Xu Weishuang herself had long survived behind a façade.
She had worked so hard to please that person, enduring both physical and emotional pain—only to be cast aside in the end.
And now this woman—Yan Muyu—was the same. Taking her into the car only to discard her like it was nothing.
Xu Weishuang frowned at Yan Muyu. Her wine-drenched eyes were full of confusion and sadness.
At this moment, she was like a small animal lost in the wild, crying softly in pain.
And even like this, she still appeared obedient. Yan Muyu couldn’t help but wonder—was she naturally this soft and compliant, or had she simply learned to dull her edges from years of submission?
Xu Weishuang leaned her head against the seat, continuing to gaze intently at Yan Muyu—as if she hadn’t heard her earlier words. She parted her lips and repeated herself:
“Aren’t you going to do it?”
“Kiss me again.”
Yan Muyu’s eyelids twitched at that, her breath catching slightly.
Her eyes involuntarily dropped to those slightly parted, bl00d-red lips.
“Little one, come back when you’re sober.”
In the end, Yan Muyu kissed her again, but it was brief—just a light bite on that alluring lower lip.
Then, with her lips still brushing Xu Weishuang’s, she whispered in a hoarse voice.
After saying it, she got out of the car, called for a driver, and stood in the cold of the parking garage for quite some time before returning to the car.
She asked for her address:
“Little one, where do you live?”
This time, Yan Muyu’s tone was much firmer, with a clear edge—like she was ready to throw Xu Weishuang out if she didn’t answer.
Whether Xu Weishuang sensed her intent or had finally sobered up after everything, she obediently gave her address.
Before leaving, Yan Muyu gave her a phone number. Xu Weishuang clutched the phone tightly—like holding on to a lifeline—and didn’t let go of it even in her sleep.
Although Yan Muyu had left her number out of personal sentiment, she still believed Xu Weishuang wouldn’t contact her after sobering up.
She thought she would forget this incident quickly.
But she hadn’t expected to run into Xu Weishuang again—just a few days later, at the bar.
Still drinking alone. Still ignoring everyone trying to hit on her. But now she looked even more miserable, shrouded in sadness.
Yan Muyu watched her for a while, but this time didn’t approach.
Because she had begun to feel that Xu Weishuang wasn’t just a simple prey—she was becoming curious about her.
And that was not a good sign.
So she turned away, pulling her gaze from Xu Weishuang.
But sometimes, some people, some encounters—perhaps they really are fated.
The third time Yan Muyu saw Xu Weishuang again—it was by the river.
Yan Muyu had just finished shooting a magazine spread there. It was a scenic area, but with few tourists.
Her schedule wrapped early, and with time to spare and the place quiet, she decided to spend a few days there to rest.
Since it was a personal trip, she wasn’t too worried about her identity being exposed.
So she hadn’t expected to run into Xu Weishuang again.
She didn’t know why Xu Weishuang was there—maybe to clear her mind. She was alone again, sitting on the riverbank, staring blankly at the calm water.
Yan Muyu squinted lazily at her. This time, there was no alcohol involved, but her condition looked worse.
Yan Muyu intended to turn and leave, but just then, Xu Weishuang looked up and spotted her.
Those dark eyes locked onto hers—cold and empty, as if completely given up on life. It was nothing like the girl she had met before.
Yan Muyu instinctively took a deep breath. She told herself not to get involved—but she didn’t move. She stood there, meeting Xu Weishuang’s gaze.
In the end, it was Xu Weishuang who walked toward her—stopping in front of her.
“We meet again,” Yan Muyu said with a gentle smile, unable to dodge, slipping back into her practiced warmth.
Xu Weishuang nodded in response.
Then, still staring at Yan Muyu’s face, she asked softly:
“Want to go for a drink?”
Her voice was cold, her tone indifferent—as if she wasn’t inviting Yan Muyu, but merely stating something mundane.
But they weren’t close.
Yan Muyu smiled. Aside from her close friends, no one had ever dared invite her so bluntly for a drink.
In their circle, that kind of invitation didn’t just mean drinking.
So Yan Muyu stepped forward, leaned in slightly, her gaze sharpening, voice lowering.
“Little one, don’t go around doing things like that.”
She didn’t accept the offer, nor did she scold Xu Weishuang for breaking the unspoken rules.
She simply gave a reminder—not to act this way.
Yan Muyu wasn’t some do-gooder with time to teach a young newcomer the rules of the entertainment world.
But the way Xu Weishuang looked—like she might break at any moment—made it hard to ignore.
Like a shattered porcelain doll, she made people instinctively want to care.
Yan Muyu didn’t know what she had been through, so she softly offered a line of comfort:
“It’s okay. This will pass.”
But Xu Weishuang seemed not to hear a word. She reached out and gripped Yan Muyu’s wrist tightly, locking eyes with her, and said with certainty:
“I know what you want to do to me.”
“The way you look at me—it’s like you want to crush me.”
Yan Muyu froze.
The warmth in her gaze slowly disappeared, her soft eyes growing cold before Xu Weishuang’s.
“Oh?” she replied.
Her lips curled into a smile—but even her voice turned sharp, like a blade made of ice.