I'm Crushing on Gorgeous Faces in Variety Shows!

The struggling movement was forcibly restrained by Cheng Zhirang. He barely needed to use any force; with one hand, he could freeze her motions.

And then his other hand could cover her mouth.

He leaned down against the back of his own hand; their lips were separated by his hand, unable to touch, but their scorching breaths mingled, sending shivers down their spines.

Mu Qiu blinked, tears trickling down onto his hand.

They were too close, truly too close, so close that she worried their breaths might fog up the lenses approaching them.

... And besides, the cameraman was watching them closely from the side.

It felt so strange, as if you’d turned around after kissing at the back of the classroom only to find the teacher’s head right next to you. If it were her, she’d shrivel up immediately.

Luckily, Cheng Zhirang’s crazed kissing had stopped. He stared at her tears, and after a heavy breath, backed away a little, his raspy voice saying, "Don’t make me angry again."

Mu Qiu closed her eyes. These dramatic moments were better performed alone because she definitely wouldn’t be able to keep up. Plus, she had to brainstorm how to improvise her lines later. Having no script was really a headache.

He slowly loosened his grip, but still wouldn’t let her go, his fingertip brushing against the corners of her lips, smearing lipstick on her cheek, then, in an appeasing manner, he said softly:

"You don’t like the food that’s been sent over? It’s okay, I’ll have someone bring you some noodles. You used to love noodles. I was too angry just now and forgot your preferences. What kind of noodles would you like? Bone broth noodles, perhaps? You cannot eat spicy food for now due to your health."

Alright, she should have some reaction now. What kind of reaction would steer towards an emotionally wrenching direction without being out of character?

She thought for a bit, opened her eyes, glanced briefly at him then turned her head, whispering, "No need. I don’t like noodles anymore."

Cheng Zhirang stiffened, his voice tensing, but still maintained the earlier appeasing tone, "Then what do you want to eat? I’ll have it made and sent over. The culinary staff from your family side have just joined the kitchen, they can make whatever you want."

"I already said, no need. I don’t want to eat."

His face looked bad, still talking to himself, "Then would vermicelli soup be alright? Even though you always hate eating these while wearing white clothes, fearing the broth would stain your clothes, it’s okay, I’m here, don’t you remember? You used to always act coy asking me to twirl the noodles into a dish for you, so it wouldn’t..."

"Enough."

Just two very calm words, but for lunatics, they could go crazy anytime and anywhere, so the psychotic beauty went manic again.

"Enough of what? It will never be enough! You clearly love me, why pretend to be indifferent? Those were our past!"

"I don’t—"

The words ’love’ hadn’t even left her mouth when Cheng Zhirang leaned in and blocked her lips, ravaging her, biting at them, his hand cupping her head forcing her closer.

Mu Qiu’s eyes widened in shock, she glanced at the equally shocked yet excited cameraman beside them.

What the heck, they’re really kissing?! She is not used to broadcasting make-out sessions live!

"Push me." Cheng Zhirang’s lips lingered near the skin under her ear, softly reminding her.

She withdrew her gaze from the camera, using both hands and feet to push him away. Since the process was difficult, she felt she needed a forceful collapse of action, so during the push and pull, she "incidentally" slapped him.

Then that slap seemed like a switch, causing Cheng Zhirang to withdraw from beside her and become still.

The head tilted to one side turned back, those charmingly gentle eyes now gazing at her with resentment and coldness.

About a meter apart, they each caught their breath to calm down, neither speaking. But the atmosphere, like thick volcanic ash air, felt as if one inhaled a dense layer of ash sticking to the throat, unable to make a sound.

"Ha, you’re rejecting me."

Cheng Zhirang stared fiercely at her, "You reject my closeness, reject the things you once liked, reject my kisses. Do you hate me? Answer me, do you?!"

The enraged voice startled Mu Qiu, she quietly and coldly said, "Why subject yourself to humiliation."

He laughed strangely, "Subject myself to humiliation? No, at best I’m taking back what’s mine. If we talk about humiliation, it should be the Prince Huainan..."

"Get out! Don’t mention his name! Get out!"

He went silent again, his entire demeanor lowering dangerously, but moments later, he said nothing, turning away and left the room, closing the door with a loud bang against the frame, making a dilapidated sound.

The cameraman also followed out, leaving only her and her personal filming staff in the room.

The atmosphere instantly relaxed.

Mu Qiu breathed a sigh of relief, pulled up a chair, and sat down, rubbing her throat and coughing twice lightly. She swore, that shout just now was at her loudest, almost breaking the sound.

But that lunatic perverted Cheng Zhirang is truly amazing, woooooo.

She took out a small mirror, touched up her lipstick, and tidied up the broken porcelain pieces scattered on the ground, then cautiously pushed open the window, secretly sticking her head out to look to the right.

Cheng Zhirang should have gone to find Shi Yuhuai, who knows how he’ll torment him, will Shi Yuhuai’s screams come echoing over?

She eagerly tilted her head to listen, but heard no sound at all.

"Mu Qiu."

The filming staff brother behind her called her name softly, asking, "Aren’t you afraid of going out of character by moving around so much?"

"How can this be considered out of character?!" She widened her eyes and said righteously, her voice as low as possible, "In private solitude, without needing to meet others, who knows what I’m like privately? This can’t be considered out of character."

The filming staff answered oh, "Then let’s do a live reaction interview."

"... You really know how to seize the moment."

Though grumbling, she still moved the chair, turning towards the window, facing the camera: "Alright, let’s do it."

"How do you feel about your impromptu performance with Brother Cheng just now? How does this form differ from the filming you’re familiar with?"

Mu Qiu: "I felt it went well because this form is basically just following an outline; the rest relies entirely on improvisation and spontaneous reactions, which is quite challenging as dialogues and actions are all based on instinct."

"What do you think of Brother Cheng’s performance just now?"

Mu Qiu: "Wild and intense, a maniac. What I mean is, he performed very fittingly."

"Give a simple expression to describe how fitting it was."

Mu Qiu: "So fitting that I’m starting to doubt if he’s truly a lunatic, feels like after the show he’d drag me into a small dark room and beat me up."

"..." The filming staff stifled a laugh, then asked, "Now that Brother Cheng went to Brother Huai’s small dark room, do you think the scene there might be dramatic?"

Mu Qiu: "It will definitely be dramatic! A psycho tormentor and a handsome man who’d rather die than be humiliated—so much chemistry."

"More sparks than what you did just now?"

Mu Qiu paused: "... Don’t do this, focus on the story itself, don’t overly focus on character’s spontaneous actions."

Her lips still hurt now.

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