The Paranoid Film Queen Doesn’t Want to Remarry - Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Xu Weishuang was not afraid of Yan Muyu’s cold demeanor, nor was she surprised by it.
As she had said, from the moment she first saw Yan Muyu, she had noticed the possessiveness in her gaze.
Yan Muyu had hidden it well, but Xu Weishuang was far too familiar with that kind of look.
Having her feelings so directly exposed, Yan Muyu didn’t bother hiding anything anymore—her carefully maintained gentle façade quickly vanished.
Facing Xu Weishuang’s fearlessness, her eyes turned cold and her desire for control poured out without restraint.
Since Xu Weishuang had seen through her from the start and now confronted her directly without any intention of fleeing, Yan Muyu took it as a sign that Xu Weishuang fully understood her situation.
So she raised her hand and firmly grabbed Xu Weishuang’s wrist, speaking with pressing dominance:
“Then come with me.”
Xu Weishuang lowered her gaze. She didn’t resist, nor did she ask where Yan Muyu was taking her.
After walking hand in hand for a while, Yan Muyu released her. As they approached the hotel, more people were around. Since they were both celebrities, neither wanted to be photographed or to spark rumors in the media.
Yan Muyu gave Xu Weishuang the address of her hotel room and told her to come over that evening.
“Will you really come this time?” Yan Muyu asked with a smile as they parted.
Xu Weishuang looked at her. The latter stared back, as if eyeing prey—dangerous and aggressive.
Xu Weishuang showed no fear, only gave a slight nod in response.
That evening, Xu Weishuang came and knocked on Yan Muyu’s door.
When the door opened, Yan Muyu’s face slowly came into view.
Seeing that Xu Weishuang had come, Yan Muyu chuckled softly. Her low, husky voice stirred something inside Xu Weishuang.
Xu Weishuang looked up at her. She was smiling warmly, and the tear-shaped mole at the corner of her eye made her look even more alluring.
Perhaps it was the night, but the atmosphere had grown inexplicably ambiguous.
“Come in,” Yan Muyu said, not wanting to linger in the hallway. She stepped aside to let Xu Weishuang enter.
As Xu Weishuang passed her, the distance between them narrowed. She noticed the ends of Yan Muyu’s hair were still damp—she must’ve just showered and hadn’t dried her hair.
As she walked by, Xu Weishuang caught the fresh scent of body wash and lingering steam.
She found herself liking that scent—it was clean, crisp, and calming.
“Still feel like drinking?” Yan Muyu asked, holding up a bottle of wine from the hotel’s mini fridge.
Xu Weishuang didn’t react, simply nodded.
Yan Muyu brought the wine over and they sat together by the table near the window.
The hotel was part of a scenic resort, and the waist-high glass window gave a clear view of the nearby river.
By night, the riverbank lit up with twinkling lights. The golden-orange glow of the lamps mirrored on the water, resembling a sky full of stars dancing on the river’s surface.
It was like a surreal painting, a dazzling vision of stars waltzing over the water.
But Yan Muyu only glanced briefly before drawing the curtain shut—she had no interest in appreciating the beauty of the night.
She turned to look at Xu Weishuang and saw that after just two glasses, her eyes had already lost clarity—she sat dumbly in the chair.
Yan Muyu chuckled.
“You’re not used to drinking, are you?” she said, sipping her wine. The taste was good, but she knew Xu Weishuang wouldn’t be able to appreciate it.
Even though she had seen Xu Weishuang drunk several times before, it was clear from her current state that she wasn’t a regular drinker.
Xu Weishuang was only tipsy. She still had her senses. When she heard Yan Muyu’s question, she instinctively nodded and replied seriously,
“I don’t like drinking.”
“Then why drink?”
Yan Muyu had never been interested in Xu Weishuang’s past. Normally, she wouldn’t have asked such a question.
But tonight, she suddenly wanted to.
Xu Weishuang paused. She wasn’t naive. She was sensitive enough to know that Yan Muyu’s previous rejections were all to keep her distance, to avoid getting involved.
But now, Yan Muyu had voluntarily crossed that boundary.
“When I’m drunk, I can be completely quiet.” Xu Weishuang didn’t hide anything. She had nothing to hide.
She turned, trying to look out the window, but the thick curtains blocked her view. She didn’t reach out to pull them open, just stared at the gray-brown fabric as she said calmly:
“If I sank to the bottom of the river, I wonder if I’d be able to stop hearing everything.”
Yan Muyu paused briefly, then gave a faint smile. She stood and pulled open the curtain, and even pushed the glass window wide.
“You want to die?” Yan Muyu asked.
She said it bluntly, with no surprise at Xu Weishuang’s words, not even shocked that she might want to end her life.
“Jumping from here only takes a few minutes. You could be quiet forever,” she said as she set her wine glass down, her smile widening, relaxing into her chair.
Her predatory gaze fell on Xu Weishuang again, the words she spoke cold and chilling.
The night wind rushed into the room. The floor was high, the street lights didn’t reach them, and the river lights looked dim and far away.
The sudden chill made Xu Weishuang shiver, but she lifted her head calmly, meeting Yan Muyu’s probing, stern eyes.
“It’ll make tomorrow’s headlines,” she replied faintly, following up on Yan Muyu’s words.
She had thought about death, but she didn’t truly want to die. Her heart should’ve been dead silent, yet there still seemed to be a flicker of hope that refused to go out.
Yan Muyu laughed without holding back this time and poured another glass for Xu Weishuang.
She waited until she had emptied it. Waited until the sorrow in her eyes became even more lost.
“You know what’s going to happen here tonight, don’t you?” Yan Muyu said, tilting her head slightly and staring straight at Xu Weishuang.
Her eyes wrapped around Xu Weishuang, the aggression no longer hidden, completely naked.
“Come here. Come to me,” she commanded.
The window was closed once again, cutting off the world outside.
Xu Weishuang breathed shallowly. Hearing Yan Muyu’s cold, forceful tone, she didn’t hesitate and walked to her side.
Yan Muyu sipped her wine, fingers tapping the table. The crisp sound made Xu Weishuang’s heart tremble involuntarily.
Then she knelt beside Yan Muyu, obediently leaning against her leg.
Only then did Yan Muyu turn to look at her.
From above, her gaze was deep, utterly unconcealed in its possessiveness.
This was far from her usual image on screen. If others saw this, the media would write endless gossip.
But Xu Weishuang didn’t care. She rested her chin on Yan Muyu’s knee, eyes lowered, and asked softly,
“Will you give me peace?”
She had studied people like Yan Muyu, understood that world. She once thought “that person” was part of that world too, because “that person” always smiled while tormenting her.
Wanted her to suffer. Wanted her to be humiliated.
She endured it all, tried to please, only to realize that person simply hated her. Hated her enough to want her ruined, hated her enough to cast her away even when she had nowhere to go—wanted her to die quietly, alone somewhere no one would find her.
“Been with anyone before? How much can you take?” Yan Muyu lifted her chin, eyes lowered, still holding a shred of reason.
Xu Weishuang shook her head:
“She never touched me.”
After saying that, she looked at Yan Muyu’s face. Without the polite smile, Yan Muyu’s presence felt suffocating.
Her lowered gaze was forceful, raw. Even the tear mole beneath her eye seemed shrouded in shadow.
Is this the real Yan Muyu? Xu Weishuang wondered.
So different from “that person.”
Yan Muyu’s madness was hidden deep, perfectly restrained. Even now, she only revealed a sliver of it, just enough for Xu Weishuang to glimpse.
“Make me cry,” Xu Weishuang said, looking into Yan Muyu’s eyes. She saw her reflection there, like a prisoner, awaiting judgment from her master.
Yan Muyu narrowed her eyes slightly.
Then her fingers tightened around Xu Weishuang’s chin, a cold laugh rising from her throat:
“That’s not for you to decide.”
As she spoke, her fingers slid from Xu Weishuang’s chin down to her throat—her fair, slender neck quickly caught in Yan Muyu’s grasp.