The Paranoid Film Queen Hooked Me, and I Fell in Love. (GL) - Chapter 36
“…Shen Buhui’s eyes welled with tears, her expression filled with panic and unease. Her slender, fair wrist was pinned tightly against the cold wall.
‘What are you going to do to me?’
She had already run so far—why was she still being pursued?
‘What am I going to do?’
The woman chuckled coldly, suddenly leaning in close. A storm raged in her eyes, and her tone turned dangerously low. ‘What do you think I’m going to do? Of course, I’m going to make you mine, Shen Buhui. You’re going to be my woman!’
‘You need to understand—there’s no escaping from me! You run, and I’ll chase. Shen Buhui, even if you sprout wings, you won’t fly far!’
With that, her eyes flashed red at the corners. Tilting her head down, she fiercely claimed those tender, dew-kissed lips in a searing kiss.
Shen Buhui struggled as her arms were restrained, her lips forcefully taken with such fury and possessiveness it couldn’t be ignored.
Her expression was one of sorrow and despair. Her delicate lashes quivered like a cicada’s wing, and a single, heartbreaking tear traced its way down her pale, fragile cheek.
Xu Zhiyan… I hate you…”
Suppressing a grin that threatened to spill from her lips, Xu Zhiyan gave a slight shake of her shoulders and wiped at her eyes.
The fanfiction was admittedly dramatic and over-the-top, but the writing itself? Surprisingly well-crafted.
She was very pleased with her own work.
It had been a while since Xu Zhiyan picked up the pen again—and once more, she wrote a fanfic about herself.
The moment she posted it and refreshed the page, comments started popping up. Apparently, plenty of people were online and surfing the feed.
[Shayu’s Little Tail]: She chases. She flees. And there’s no escape! Are you shipping a new couple, Lady Zhiyan? This is spicy and intense—loving the vibe!
[Albert]: Nothing like a splash of dramatic passion! Forceful love? I’m eating this up, ahhhh!!
[Cherry Bomb Girl]: Sister, only you could pull this off! /thumbs up.jpg
Xu Zhiyan had just replied to Cherry Bomb Girl’s comment when she suddenly felt a shadow looming overhead.
She instinctively covered her phone screen and looked up.
Shen Buhui was narrowing her eyes slightly at her. “What are you hiding?”
So sneaky. Definitely something she didn’t want her to see.
How could she ever confess she’d written a fanfic starring herself and her girlfriend? That would just be way too embarrassing!
Xu Zhiyan puffed out her cheeks and replied calmly, without even blushing, “I was watching a fan edit of your past co-stars.”
Worried Shen Buhui wouldn’t believe her, she even opened her phone again in front of her, subtly swiping up to a previous post.
@CivilAffairsOffice: Who says the chemistry between Shen Buhui and Xu Zhiyan is the strongest? Please, take a look at the stunning co-stars she’s worked with before—each one oozes charm in their own way!
A video edit was attached to the post, which Xu Zhiyan had conveniently prepared in advance.
Shen Buhui blinked in slight surprise—she hadn’t expected her to be watching something so… proper.
“Then why were you so quick to cover it up when I came over?”
Xu Zhiyan discreetly hooked her pinky finger around her girlfriend’s hand and murmured in a small voice, “I was afraid you’d think I wasn’t good enough.”
After a pause, she realized the word “not good enough” sounded pretty pathetic, so she quickly corrected herself with an even more pitiful expression, “Your co-stars are all so amazing. I was worried… you might think I don’t measure up.”
She had only randomly picked a post to cover her tracks, but now that she was thinking about all the talented seniors featured in that edit, a real sense of insecurity started to settle in.
Xu Zhiyan’s eyes dimmed slightly. She bit her lip on purpose and looked up with a pitiful, fragile expression.
In that moment, she looked uncannily similar to the version of “Shen Buhui” she had written about in her own fanfiction—the one who was dramatically and possessively kissed.
Shen Buhui: “…”
She’s really laying it on thick.
But what could she do? Of course she had to comfort her.
She gently reached out and stroked Xu Zhiyan’s hair. “No matter how impressive they are, they’re just colleagues. You’re different. You’re the one I love.”
Xu Zhiyan tilted her head up and nuzzled her palm. “Have you ever liked any of them?”
“Never.”
“Then… do you like me the most?”
“I do. I love you the most.”
Xu Zhiyan suddenly broke into a smile.
“I like you the most, too.”
Just like that, the rising tide of insecurity that had begun to build in her heart was smoothed over with ease.
The awkward moment of hiding her phone was brushed aside amidst the affectionate bickering of a couple in love.
When Xiao Fang came to call Shen Buhui out, Xu Zhiyan just happened to let go of her hand.
What she didn’t see was that the moment Shen Buhui stepped out with Xiao Fang, she took out her phone, casually opened Weibo, and deftly tapped into a certain someone’s profile.
A freshly posted fanfiction—no more than twenty minutes old—appeared right in front of her.
“So shameless,” she muttered under her breath, though her lips betrayed her with a smile she couldn’t hide.
Unaware that her carefully guarded little secret had already been discovered, Xu Zhiyan was still reading a comment under her new post.
[Qi Daodao]: Is it just me, or does it seem like you really love writing different kissing plays for this couple? /resting chin.jpg
She wasn’t wrong—very perceptive, in fact.
Over the course of just two days, Xu Zhiyan had pumped out three fanfics. Between them, the number of kissing scenes tallied no fewer than five.
The real kicker? Each scene featured a well-known classic: waist-grabbing kisses, wall-pinning deep kisses, red-eyed forced kisses… the full collection.
Xu Zhiyan licked her dry lips but didn’t respond to the comment.
No way was she about to tell anyone that the reason she poured all that passion into writing was because real life wasn’t satisfying enough.
Most people would probably want to crawl into a hole if they ever stumbled upon a cringey fanfic about themselves. But Xu Zhiyan wasn’t most people. She not only enjoyed reading those spicy tropes—she enthusiastically wrote them herself.
Moments later, after refreshing the page again, she noticed someone under the username “xzysbh” had just sent a massive tip for the story.
Curious, Xu Zhiyan opened the private chat window and sent over a red envelope in return.
[Professional Sugar Shipper]: Sis, no need to tip me! The joy of sharing a ship is more than enough. Please accept this red envelope instead.
[xzysbh]: No need. I really love your writing—I just wanted to show my support.
[Professional Sugar Shipper]: But you gave so much. It really isn’t necessary.
[xzysbh]: I like it. Just keep writing more in the future. /excited.jpg
After that, no matter what Xu Zhiyan messaged, the other person didn’t reply again. She sighed softly, closed the chat, and added a note under her story saying tips weren’t necessary.
As for the generous supporter… well, the only way to repay her was to write even more stories in the future!
That evening, after filming wrapped up, Shen Buhui had to deal with a sudden issue at the studio and left with Xiao Fang.
Back in her own dressing room, Xu Zhiyan had just finished changing clothes and was preparing to head out with Yuanyuan when she heard a knock at the door.
“Come in,” she called, turning around—only to see the tall, slender figure of Qi Helin standing in the doorway. Her brows furrowed slightly.
“Brother Helin, is something the matter?” Xu Zhiyan asked politely.
Qi Helin’s face wore an easy smile, calm and composed.
“Nothing urgent,” he replied, stepping closer. “I just wanted to discuss something with you.”
As he spoke, Qi Helin’s gaze drifted toward Yuanyuan, who stood quietly to the side. The implication in his eyes was unmistakable.
Xu Zhiyan paused for a moment but pretended not to notice his silent cue.
“Yuanyuan,” she said, “could you find the lipstick I mentioned earlier? It should be in the makeup pouch.”
Yuanyuan nodded, took a few steps back, and bent down to quietly rummage through a drawer.
Only then did Xu Zhiyan turn back to Qi Helin and speak with a gentle, considerate tone.
“Brother Helin, even though we’ve done nothing wrong and have nothing to hide, you know how much the paparazzi love spinning false stories just to grab attention. For the sake of your public image and reputation, I think it’s best if we avoid being alone together.”
She sounded every bit like she was thinking of his best interests, leaving Qi Helin no room to object. The words stuck in his throat, and all he could do was force a smile.
“You always think things through so thoroughly.”
“But,” he added, “you don’t have to be that cautious in the future.”
Xu Zhiyan frowned. “What do you mean by that, Brother Helin?”
“I came today to discuss something with you—about a CP partnership.”
“…A CP partnership?”
Qi Helin shifted his posture and gave a faint smile.
“Zhiyan, you’re still a newcomer. Even though you landed Director Cheng’s film for your debut, that doesn’t mean your career is set in stone.”
“In today’s entertainment industry, talent alone isn’t enough if you don’t have the numbers. I’m sure you understand what I mean. I have a proposal—something that could help you fill that gap quickly. If we coordinate our efforts, the publicity from a fake couple pairing would bring you a huge boost in attention and save you a lot of time and effort climbing the ranks.”
Xu Zhiyan leaned back in her chair, listening to Qi Helin’s polished pitch. Her frown never left her face.
When he finally stopped talking, she spoke up calmly.
“That sounds like a great deal—for me, anyway.”
Qi Helin nodded, pleased. “Exactly. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“But what does any of this have to do with me?”
Xu Zhiyan lifted her chin slightly, showing not the slightest sign of being tempted.
“I’m quite satisfied with where I am now. I’m not chasing after fame for its own sake.”
She noticed the stiffness in Qi Helin’s expression but merely smiled and added coolly,
“After all, popularity is a double-edged sword. When you think you’re controlling it, how can you be sure it hasn’t already begun to control you?”
Take Qi Helin, for example. He was a top-tier rising star with a massive female fan base. Back when he was still in a boy group, his individual fan count far surpassed his fellow members. Sure, part of it was thanks to his handsome looks—but most of it came from his skill at retaining fans.
And so, the fans flooded in. But with that surge of attention came its own restrictions—chains he might not even realize were binding him.
Xu Zhiyan didn’t believe for a second that Qi Helin hadn’t experienced that firsthand.
“But having popularity opens doors to more opportunities,” Qi Helin said, the smile on his face gone now. Still, he hadn’t given up on persuading her. “It’s just a temporary CP. With the agency team managing everything, you won’t have to lift a finger and still gain a lot of buzz. Are you sure you don’t want to consider it?”
“I’m sure.”
Her rejection came swift and firm, like a blade cutting through the air.
Never mind the fact that she was already in a relationship—even if she weren’t, Xu Zhiyan would never use this kind of tactic to chase popularity.
Besides, an actor who builds their career off a fanbase and then turns around to secretly date behind their backs—Xu Zhiyan couldn’t help but feel that was the very definition of betrayal. That wasn’t the kind of person she wanted to be.
It was precisely because she had been a fan herself that Xu Zhiyan understood the weight of trust—and what should and should not be done.
“I remember you already have a girlfriend, Brother Helin.”
It wasn’t public knowledge, but people in the industry had heard whispers.
Xu Zhiyan took the lipstick Yuanyuan handed her, looked up, and added,
“And yet you’re talking about faking a romance on camera? Aren’t you worried your girlfriend might get jealous?”
Qi Helin abruptly stood up, towering over her.
“If you’re not interested, then forget it,” he snapped.
With that, he turned on his heel and pushed the door open, walking out without looking back.
After he left, Xu Zhiyan lost all interest and mood. She capped the lipstick with a little click and let out a dissatisfied tsk.
Maybe it was because she was in a relationship herself now, but Xu Zhiyan found her empathy being used in all the wrong places—like instinctively imagining how his girlfriend must feel.
Yuanyuan, ever the realist, pursed her lips and said bluntly,
“He talks like it’s all for your benefit, but who knows what his real plan is once things take off.”
It always starts with “benefiting both sides,” and ends with heartbreak and fan betrayal. And when it all goes down, who gains the most? It’s never clear.
“Exactly.”
Xu Zhiyan stood up and straightened her clothes.
“Anyway, I already turned him down. Let’s go. I’ve been working all afternoon—I’m starving!”
That night, Shen Buhui still hadn’t returned.
Xu Zhiyan lay on the bed, legs lifted and swinging lazily in the air. She opened WeChat and tapped on a video call.
Shen Buhui answered, leaning against her headboard, her hair still damp.
“You didn’t dry your hair again,” Xu Zhiyan said with a frown.
“That’s because you always call me right after I shower,” Shen Buhui replied.
Xu Zhiyan rolled over on the bed, her nightgown slipping open slightly.
“Fine, go dry it then. I’ll wait.”
After urging Shen Buhui to blow-dry her hair and watching her return, Xu Zhiyan propped her chin in her hand and admired her through the screen.
Shen Buhui glanced away with a smile.
“I still like it more when you dry my hair.”
“Oh? So my skills are top-tier, huh?” Xu Zhiyan beamed with pride.
Shen Buhui nodded.
“Yeah. So… when will you start drying my hair every day?”
Every day? That would mean… living together.
Xu Zhiyan swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Her ears flushed red.
“…Isn’t that a bit too soon?”