The Paranoid Film Queen Doesn’t Want to Remarry - Chapter 33

Chapter 33

 

When Yan Muyu heard those words, her breath hitched slightly, and she froze for a moment.

 

Her rapid breathing from their kiss lingered beside Xu Weishuang’s ear, and that brief pause was instantly picked up by Xu Weishuang.

 

But Xu Weishuang didn’t dwell on it — the atmosphere was too overwhelming to allow for deep thought.

 

Yan Muyu only paused for that one second before quickly returning to normal.

 

Xu Weishuang had only said those words to clarify that she did not see Yan Muyu as a replacement for Liu Yuebai.

 

There was too much pain between Xu Weishuang and Liu Yuebai. The scars of those memories still hurt, and even just comparing the two made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want Yan Muyu to know about that past.

 

But Xu Weishuang had no idea how deeply her words had shocked Yan Muyu.

 

Though she appeared calm, Yan Muyu was struggling to suppress the flood of emotions inside her.

 

She hugged Xu Weishuang tighter, kissing the curve of her neck and shoulder, caressing her body, using touch to anchor herself, to calm the storm within.

 

She didn’t know why Xu Weishuang had suddenly chosen to explain — was it because she sensed her concern and wanted to reassure her?

 

Or was it simply to state clearly that she and Liu Yuebai were different?

 

Whichever it was, it made Yan Muyu happy.

 

Her heart was full, overflowing with joy. She murmured Xu Weishuang’s name with deep affection, feeling waves of pleasure she’d never known before.

 

Her bl00d seemed to boil with it. The love she had hidden for so long — the secret she buried deep inside — now threatened to break free.

 

She wanted to tell Xu Weishuang how much she loved her.

 

Would Xu Weishuang accept it now?

 

Had Xu Weishuang… begun to feel something for her?

 

Yan Muyu pinned Xu Weishuang against the wall, lowered her head slightly, and gently bit her earlobe.

 

Soft yet fiery breaths brushed against Xu Weishuang’s ear as Yan Muyu forced herself to remain calm.

 

“Xiao Shuang…” she whispered seductively, drawing Xu Weishuang deeper into desire.

 

But still, Yan Muyu restrained herself.

 

She didn’t dare to gamble.

 

Some things, once spoken, could shatter everything.

 

She couldn’t risk it.

 

She had long grown used to suppressing her feelings, to never letting anyone see into her heart.

 

“I understand,” she said at last.

 

As if it didn’t matter.

 

Given their agreed-upon relationship, she had no right to care.

 

But then Yan Muyu bit Xu Weishuang’s upturned chin, her lips brushing lightly with a touch of teasing punishment.

 

“I’m not happy,” she added softly.

 

Because Yan Muyu no longer followed their agreement from six years ago to the letter. She was holding back her emotions — but also trying, little by little, to let Xu Weishuang feel the difference.

 

She wanted Xu Weishuang to get used to her, to fall into her slowly, until they were inseparable. Then Yan Muyu could rewrite the rules of their relationship.

 

So even as her words seemed detached, her actions betrayed the opposite. She carefully controlled the dynamic — giving Xu Weishuang just enough doubt and confusion, never letting her fully understand.

 

Her kisses didn’t stop — tender, but tinged with a light sting, like being nibbled by ants. It sent shivers through Xu Weishuang, numbing her senses, making her unable to think straight.

 

Xu Weishuang was someone who often avoided difficult thoughts.

 

When she couldn’t figure things out, she would just give up.

 

Yan Muyu had realized over the past six years what Xu Weishuang had been avoiding. She hadn’t known it before — but now, she did.

 

Someone so used to escaping was easy to mislead.

 

“You made a mistake, Xiao Shuang,” Yan Muyu said again.

 

Xu Weishuang closed her eyes.

 

By her ear was Yan Muyu’s hot breath and that quiet reprimand.

 

She had made a mistake.

 

They had agreed never to bring up the past. And yet, Xu Weishuang had mentioned Liu Yuebai in front of her.

 

Yan Muyu held her tightly, and Xu Weishuang found herself thinking along with her, unable to question the deeper meaning behind her words — unable to see through her.

 

She had once said she didn’t want to have contact after the divorce, yet here they were, tangled up again and again — all part of Yan Muyu’s careful seduction.

 

Deep down, Xu Weishuang sensed something, but couldn’t think clearly enough to process it. She was beginning to waver in her decision to separate completely.

 

Right now, with Yan Muyu presenting conflicting attitudes and pointing out her “mistake,” Xu Weishuang was thrown into deeper confusion. The “punishment” she received made her unable to think logically.

 

Again and again, Xu Weishuang could have simply said “no” and stopped it all.

 

But her body, her heart — they were drowning in the warmth of Yan Muyu’s touch, soaked in the alluring scent that clung to her.

 

Everything she felt was carefully orchestrated by Yan Muyu. Her body longed for the other woman’s affection.

 

Right now, Xu Weishuang could only brace herself for the punishment she was about to receive. She clung to Yan Muyu — fearful, but longing.

 

Her submissiveness made Yan Muyu smile. She caressed the pale skin of Xu Weishuang’s neck, her fingers absentmindedly tracing gentle lines.

 

Xu Weishuang shivered, tilting her head up.

 

She heard Yan Muyu’s soft, seductive voice beside her ear.

 

“Little General…” she murmured.

 

Her voice suddenly took on a different tone — syrupy, boneless — even her arms changed, wrapping around Xu Weishuang’s body instead of holding her tightly.

 

“Little General, take pity on me,” she whispered again with a smile.

 

Her voice held hooks, and her breath lured Xu Weishuang in like a trap.

 

Xu Weishuang didn’t understand this sudden change. She instinctively recalled the script, but all she could find in the scenes she had been given were the ones where the general and the dancer part ways — nothing as provocative as this.

 

While she was still confused, Yan Muyu kissed her again — not allowing her time to think — kissing her lips, her tongue.

 

The sweetness and softness of their kiss made Xu Weishuang instinctively hold her breath, but the words from earlier still echoed in her mind.

 

Yan Muyu said it was punishment. But… was this the punishment?

 

Trying to slow her breathing, Xu Weishuang kissed her back. She reached out, wrapping her arms around Yan Muyu’s waist — just as the general in the script would treat a dancer.

 

She slowly let herself sink into the moment. Whatever Yan Muyu asked, she would comply.

 

At least when it came to intimacy, she never resisted.

 

Their kiss grew deeper. Xu Weishuang rarely took the lead like this.

 

Only in a scene — only when acting — did she show this kind of dominance.

 

Yan Muyu, panting softly in her arms, allowed her body to go limp, letting Xu Weishuang take control.

 

Another trap.

 

She called it “punishment,” but let Xu Weishuang dominate.

 

She wanted Xu Weishuang more confused, more entangled in desire.

 

She was seducing her.

 

At that moment, Yan Muyu made it feel like Xu Weishuang was the one taking, the one in control.

 

The steamy breaths, the dreamy gaze — they were all reactions to Xu Weishuang’s kiss.

 

Overcome by temptation, Xu Weishuang found herself caressing Yan Muyu’s body even through the layers of clothing.

 

Under her touch, Yan Muyu trembled — her spine arching inch by inch.

 

She breathed unevenly, her voice trembling in Xu Weishuang’s ear.

 

But it still wasn’t enough. Yan Muyu narrowed her eyes, the world around her blurring, her forehead beading with sweat, her cheeks flushed from arousal.

 

“Take me… Shulan,” she said, panting.

 

Xu Weishuang froze, her eyes suddenly clear.

 

The fire in her chest instantly extinguished — not even an ember remained.

 

This was rare for Xu Weishuang: being forcibly snapped out of the moment.

 

She stopped kissing and stared at Yan Muyu for a long moment before saying:

 

“No.”

 

Yan Muyu simply smiled.

 

“Then take me… Xu Weishuang,” she said again.

 

She still had that dancer’s seductive demeanor, so different from her usual self — yet she called Xu Weishuang by her real name.

 

Xu Weishuang couldn’t tell who this was anymore.

 

Was it the woman she wanted to kiss?

 

She leaned forward and kissed Yan Muyu again — on the corner of her lips.

 

As Yan Muyu let out a soft moan, Xu Weishuang felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through her.

 

Yan Muyu had started by calling her “Little General,” pulling her into a role to ease her immersion.

 

But Xu Weishuang didn’t want to hear any name from her other than her own. The transition from “Little General” to “Xu Weishuang” was so subtle, it blurred the lines — making it seem like she was in control.

 

She felt like she was dominating Yan Muyu, experiencing something new and intoxicating.

 

The always-proud Yan Muyu now clung to her arms, trembling from her touch.

 

They had been married for six years. Xu Weishuang had served Yan Muyu in many ways — whether sitting astride her, or kneeling to take her into her mouth.

 

But even at her climax, Yan Muyu’s eyes had always been cool, commanding. Even when her neck arched in pleasure, she never truly lost control.

 

Yan Muyu never showed softness in front of her. Not a kind expression — but true vulnerability, the kind that could be hurt at any moment.

 

Xu Weishuang didn’t know whether the woman before her now was truly showing her softness — she only saw the lowered lashes, the obedience in her demeanor.

 

When she kissed her, Yan Muyu parted her lips willingly, allowing her inside.

 

When she caressed her, Yan Muyu trembled in response, letting out faint gasps.

 

She was Yan Muyu — moaning Xu Weishuang’s name in between pants — and yet she was also the dancer in the play, soft and yielding in the Little General’s arms.

 

Xu Weishuang’s chest overflowed with emotion. She wanted to tear off Yan Muyu’s clothes, to merge her with her own body.

 

To take her. To possess her. That was instinct.

 

She thought it was a feeling that came naturally — unaware that it was precisely what Yan Muyu had engineered.

 

Just like their first time, when Yan Muyu had undressed her piece by piece, luring her into letting go of all shame.

 

Yan Muyu wanted Xu Weishuang to feel possessive, to take her — because then she would never be able to let go.

 

Xu Weishuang didn’t know how to manipulate hearts. She couldn’t resist Yan Muyu’s tactics. She was mesmerized by the beauty before her — that perfect body, unveiled.

 

The body she loved.

 

She always had.

 

And now that she was the one in control, that beauty became even more irresistible.

 

Xu Weishuang lowered her head and kissed Yan Muyu.

 

She pleased her, kissing the skin behind her ear, smiling as Yan Muyu squirmed and laughed from the ticklish sensation.

 

The joy in Xu Weishuang’s heart multiplied.

 

This pleasure was even greater than when she received it herself. She found herself matching Yan Muyu’s breathing, syncing with her heartbeat.

 

As Yan Muyu closed her eyes, floating in ecstasy, Xu Weishuang felt it too.

 

She bit her lip — feeling, for the first time, an entirely different kind of joy in their intimacy.

 

Yan Muyu opened her eyes afterward, gazing at her with a dreamy, dazed look.

 

And in that moment, Xu Weishuang felt — she might remember that gaze from Yan Muyu for the rest of her life.

 

Xu Weishuang didn’t have those tormenting tricks—unlike Yan Muyu, who always pushed her past her limits, leaving her teetering between collapse and euphoric excitement.

 

She needed that kind of intensity, yet instinctively felt Yan Muyu didn’t.

 

Even when Yan Muyu clung to her, letting her do whatever she wanted, allowing herself to be marked all over, she never once refused.

 

Afterward, Yan Muyu had fallen asleep, but Xu Weishuang couldn’t rest. She sat dazed on the edge of the bed, staring at Yan Muyu’s sleeping face, confused by everything that had happened.

 

Why was Yan Muyu suddenly like this?

 

Xu Weishuang knew Yan Muyu didn’t want a divorce. Their physical entanglement, and Yan Muyu’s unmasked vulnerability, were proof she didn’t want to part ways.

 

Yan Muyu lived under the spotlight—every move watched, every word scrutinized.

 

Xu Weishuang had never seen her drop her mask around others. In the six years they worked together, Yan Muyu never let her guard down. So of course she didn’t want to lose one of the few places where she could truly let go.

 

But still—was all of that enough to justify what had happened last night?

 

Xu Weishuang used to believe that Yan Muyu’s “true self” was pathological—paranoid, controlling, bordering on obsessive.

 

Yet ever since Xu Weishuang proposed the divorce, Yan Muyu had been steadily shattering those assumptions.

 

Which only left Xu Weishuang more confused, unable to understand her anymore.

 

But no matter how much she didn’t understand, she remembered the sweetness between their lips, the scorching heat beneath her fingertips.

 

Xu Weishuang let out a weary breath. She knew she had liked it—deeply.

 

That moment of near-overwhelming excitement and joy had nearly burst out of her chest, dizzying her, consuming her.

 

But then fear crept in. She thought of Liu Yuebai—and in an instant, that joy was shrouded in shadow.

 

…

 

In the days that followed, Yan Muyu didn’t return. Her schedule was indeed packed. Between the third and fourth episodes of the show, she barely had time to meet Xu Weishuang.

 

Even when she rushed in to film the program, she had to board a flight immediately afterward. They barely spoke a few words.

 

Xu Weishuang, meanwhile, returned to her usual rhythm. Immersed in her role, she found herself once again struggling to exit character. So she trained even harder in the curriculum assigned by Teacher Lin.

 

Her performance with Xu Xia had won her more positive attention. Audiences are forgetful, and people are drawn to strength.

 

With every captivating character she portrayed and the exposure from the show, rebuilding her reputation was foreseeable.

 

Some even began to say that Xu Weishuang’s poor showing in episode one had more to do with Zhuang Shitao’s lack of skill. After all, their teammate Jiang Ye hadn’t been affected at all.

 

Though attacked by Zhuang Shitao’s fans, these views still gained traction.

 

That day, after finishing her morning workout, Xu Weishuang changed clothes and headed out for a meeting.

 

The fitness routine had been arranged by Shi Yan on Yan Muyu’s request. Though Shi Yan claimed she was only helping temporarily, she worked with care and dedication.

 

Seeing that Xu Weishuang was physically weak and often had no appetite, and that even the nutritionist Yan Muyu hired had little effect, Shi Yan had directly said:

 

“Muyu didn’t push you before because you were staying home, not working. But now you’re acting again. Can I assume you plan to return to the industry?”

 

“You know how grueling acting can be. Muyu told me to get you on a workout regimen—you need to strengthen your body.” These were Shi Yan’s exact words. Xu Weishuang nodded in agreement. There was no reason to refuse.

 

Besides the workouts, Shi Yan personally found her a new nutritionist.

 

All of this had been arranged by Yan Muyu. Even though she hadn’t been actively contacting Xu Weishuang since that night, her presence was felt in every detail of Xu Weishuang’s life.

 

Xu Weishuang no longer tried to figure out Yan Muyu’s intentions. She simply accepted the arrangements—they were, after all, for her own good.

 

The meeting that day was also with Shi Yan, who had mentioned it was for serious business. When Xu Weishuang arrived at the location and opened the door, she found Shi Yan already waiting.

 

“Muyu said you’re always punctual,” Shi Yan greeted her with a smile while steeping tea, gesturing for her to sit across the table. As Xu Weishuang sat down, the tea was just ready.

 

“Try it,” Shi Yan said, offering her a cup.

 

Xu Weishuang took a sip, then set it down with an unreadable expression.

 

“Wasting good tea,” Shi Yan sighed. “We’ll need to get you some tea appreciation lessons.”

 

Then, turning more serious: “You probably know why I asked you here today.”

 

Previously, Shi Yan had mentioned wanting to sign Xu Weishuang to her agency.

 

Right now, Xu Weishuang had no company, no agent—nothing to support her work. Though Director Tao had agreed to a screen test, there was still much to be done afterward.

 

She couldn’t handle it alone, nor did she have connections.

 

Yan Muyu’s company was her best option—and Shi Yan had even offered to represent her personally.

 

“Was this arranged by Yan Muyu?” Xu Weishuang asked quietly.

 

Shi Yan had expected this question. She raised an eyebrow and said frankly, “She suggested it, yes. But the desire to sign you came from me.”

 

Shi Yan was an experienced agent—under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t take on newcomers. But her eye for talent was sharp. She saw something unique in Xu Weishuang.

 

A striking appearance, strong skills, and a track record: Best Supporting Actress for her debut film, buzzworthy presence on variety shows, and recognition from top directors.

 

When Yan Muyu subtly mentioned helping Xu Weishuang find representation, Shi Yan was immediately interested. And she could tell—it had been Yan Muyu’s plan all along to nudge Xu Weishuang in her direction.

 

After explaining, Shi Yan studied her reaction carefully.

 

Unfortunately, Xu Weishuang’s expression didn’t reveal much. But her silence suggested hesitation.

 

Shi Yan frowned slightly. “Is it because of your relationship with Muyu?”

 

She remembered they had said they were getting a divorce.

 

Xu Weishuang nodded.

 

She understood that in this industry, going it alone wasn’t viable. A company like Yan Muyu’s, and Shi Yan personally managing her, was a golden opportunity.

 

But golden opportunities often came with strings attached.

 

It meant another layer of entanglement with Yan Muyu.

 

Her hesitation made Shi Yan laugh. “Are you planning to avoid her for the rest of your life?”

 

“This industry is small. Resources are limited. With Muyu’s status, you think you’ll never run into her again?”

 

“After the divorce, will you make it public that you’ll never speak to each other again?”

 

Shi Yan’s tone deepened. “Xu Weishuang, don’t be naive. You want to avoid Muyu, but she’s out here trying to get you resources. You’re not a rookie anymore—if you want a comeback, you can’t turn your back on her.”

 

“Even if you two are getting divorced.”

 

Xu Weishuang stayed silent.

 

“If that’s how you really feel, then there’s nothing more to discuss. And honestly, you’d be better off staying out of this industry,” Shi Yan said with disappointment, standing as if to end the meeting.

 

She had thought Xu Weishuang was ready for a comeback. Especially with how close she’d seemed to Yan Muyu lately. But she hadn’t expected such naïveté.

 

This industry was a cesspool. Divorce was nothing, but cutting ties with someone like Yan Muyu? That would ruin Xu Weishuang’s chances instantly.

 

There would be no space for a slow, steady rise.

 

“I’ll think about it seriously,” Xu Weishuang said suddenly as Shi Yan reached the door.

 

Her voice was calm and cool, making Shi Yan pause.

 

Turning back, she saw Xu Weishuang still seated, unbothered, composed. It was as if nothing had affected her at all.

 

Only a sliver of light from the window touched the room. The sunlight didn’t reach her.

 

In that antique-style setting, she looked even more serene and cold.

 

Shi Yan admired her aura and looks. That quiet poise—that cool detachment—was unique.

 

Artists need uniqueness. They need a presence that stands out.

 

Shi Yan truly believed in her.

 

But—

 

“I don’t like waiting too long. Indecisiveness makes people seem weak,” she said firmly.

 

“I understand,” Xu Weishuang replied.

 

Shi Yan finally smiled again, and stepped out the door.

 

Xu Weishuang sat still a while longer before leaving herself.

 

She reflected on what Shi Yan had said, and on her connection with Yan Muyu.

 

Originally, she told Yan Muyu she didn’t want to remain friends after the divorce—meaning she wanted a clean break.

 

But Shi Yan had made her realize: they were in the same industry. Sooner or later, their paths would cross again.

 

She couldn’t truly sever ties—not after six years of marriage. Whether enemies or allies, others would never treat her as entirely separate from Yan Muyu.

 

They were bound together. No statement of divorce could fully undo it.

 

And deep down, even the divorce itself had started to feel uncertain.

 

…

 

As she returned to the hotel, lost in thought, she didn’t notice the familiar figure standing at the front desk.

 

Only when she stepped into the elevator did she see someone approaching—someone she recognized instantly.

 

Xu Weishuang instinctively sucked in a breath, and all her previous worries vanished in that moment.

 

Whenever that person appeared, she couldn’t help but want to run.

 

Liu Yuebai.

 

Her name echoed in Xu Weishuang’s mind like a curse.

 

“Xiaoshuang, don’t run,” Liu Yuebai said, stepping into the cramped elevator with her.

 

Xu Weishuang clenched her fists tightly. The air grew suddenly suffocating. Emotions surged uncontrollably within her.

 

Last time, she had gotten through it in Yan Muyu’s arms.

 

But this time, no one was coming to help her. Liu Yuebai was right beside her—in this claustrophobic space—cutting into her soul without mercy.

 

It felt like a thousand ants gnawed at her skin. She couldn’t stop the fear and pain from rising.

 

How could Liu Yuebai say, “Don’t run”?

 

She had never run—not even when Liu Yuebai had beaten her in madness.

 

It was Liu Yuebai who had abandoned her.

 

She had knelt on the floor, begging her not to leave.

 

She would have done anything, endured any pain. But Liu Yuebai still left.

 

Six years ago, she hadn’t understood why.

 

Now she did.

 

And she hoped Liu Yuebai would never appear before her again.