Qiao Shu’s fingertips slid across the screen, flipping to that page. “Wait a moment, let me memorize the lines.”
Jiang Tu nodded. “Alright.”
The girl leaned against the bed, her eyes half-closed as she gazed at the phone screen, her dark lashes long and curled.
A flicker of inexplicable emotion passed through Jiang Tu’s deep, dark pupils. The entertainment industry was never short of beauties, but few had ever caught his eye so instantly.
Five minutes later.
Qiao Shu put down her phone and turned to look at the man beside her. He was staring at her, motionless.
Her heart trembled. He always looked at her like this, and she often felt that Jiang Tu was still in character, unable to break free from the role.
“I’m ready.”
Jiang Tu leisurely got out of bed and asked her, “No props—can you perform without them?”
Qiao Shu: “!!”
What else could she say? Performing without props was the ultimate test of acting skills. “We can give it a try.”
This scene depicted the protagonists watching a movie at home, with the female lead leaning against the male lead’s shoulder, holding a bag of chips.
On the sofa, Qiao Shu leaned against Jiang Tu’s shoulder as both of them faced the television, which was playing a prime-time romance drama.
Qiao Shu mimed the action of taking a chip, “eating” it while keeping her eyes fixed on the screen.
Jiang Tu lowered his gaze to look at the girl nestled against his shoulder. She seemed completely engrossed, even forgetting to chew the “chip” in her mouth during the thrilling moments.
A faint smile curved Jiang Tu’s eyes. Not bad acting.
“Ah! Honey, what is that?” Qiao Shu closed her eyes in fright, burying her face in Jiang Tu’s shoulder.
Jiang Tu was taken aback for a moment before reaching out to ruffle her hair, explaining, “It’s nothing, just a fake hand.”
Qiao Shu clung tightly to Jiang Tu’s arm, cautiously peeking at the screen. “Phew~ that scared me.”
“You’re the perfect example of ‘big appetite, little skill.’”
Qiao Shu shot him a playful glare. “Don’t you think it’s good? It’s quite thrilling.”
Jiang Tu nodded and kissed her cheek. “Most girls like to watch sweet idol dramas. Which girl is like you, enjoying crime and suspense shows?”
“Don’t tell me what to do. I just like watching them.”
Jiang Tu replied affectionately, “Alright, I’ll watch with you.”
Qiao Shu’s eyes curved into a smile as she took out a “chip” and brought it to Jiang Tu’s lips. “Ah~ open up.”
A faint smile spread across Jiang Tu’s lips as he opened his mouth to eat the chip, accidentally brushing against Qiao Shu’s hand.
Both of them froze.
Qiao Shu quickly withdrew her hand. “Sorry.”
Jiang Tu shook his head. “It’s fine.”
Qiao Shu unconsciously rubbed her fingertips, as if an electric current had surged straight to her heart—a strange, tingling sensation. Jiang Tu’s lips were warm and soft.
“Shall we continue?”
Qiao Shu replied awkwardly, “Alright.”
Qiao Shu recalled the lines in her mind. “Honey, is this brand of chips tasty?”
“It’s alright,” Jiang Tu chewed the “chip,” his large hand resting on her waist. “Not crispy enough.”
Qiao Shu was slightly taken aback. Not crispy enough?
“Just telling the truth.” Jiang Tu suddenly pinned the girl beneath him, lowering his gaze to meet her eyes.
Qiao Shu pressed her small hands against the man’s chest, blinking her captivating fox-like eyes. “What are you trying to do?”
“Nothing.” As he spoke, the man leaned closer to her red lips, his eyes dark and intense.
Suddenly, the man’s unexpected kiss caught her off guard. Qiao Shu’s ears grew faintly warm. In the scene, the female lead wrapped her arms around the male lead’s neck and responded to his kiss.
Qiao Shu paused for a moment before encircling Jiang Tu’s neck with her arms, parting her crimson lips slightly to return his kiss.
Jiang Tu stiffened for a moment, tightening his arms around the girl’s soft, slender waist. His deep, peach-blossom eyes grew dark and unreadable.
Their breathing gradually grew heavier.
As the night deepened, bathed in the warm glow of lamplight, the two on the sofa kissed with lingering tenderness.
It felt like an eternity had passed. Qiao Shu began to feel breathless. She counted silently in her heart for over ten seconds, but Jiang Tu showed no sign of letting her go.
Finally, Qiao Shu steeled herself and gently bit Jiang Tu’s soft lips. “Professor Jiang?”
Jiang Tu leisurely pulled away. On the sofa, the girl’s cheeks were slightly flushed, her small ears bright red, and her shimmering, fox-like eyes seemed to hook right into his heart.
Qiao Shu gasped lightly for air, pushing herself up with her hands on the sofa. She remembered that in the script, the kiss had only lasted a few seconds before cutting away—because it simply couldn’t be aired.
“I need to use the restroom,” she said, smoothing her disheveled short hair before fleeing into the bathroom.
A flicker of some indescribable emotion passed through Jiang Tu’s deep, shadowy peach-blossom eyes. He raised a hand to touch his lips.
The air seemed to carry that familiar, delicate fragrance—the intoxicating scent of roses, subtle yet heady.
Jiang Tu lowered his gaze. When he had pressed against her earlier, his chest had brushed against something soft. It seemed she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Inside the bathroom.
Qiao Shu turned on the faucet and splashed two handfuls of cold water onto her face. The icy sting sent a shiver through her, and only then did she realize she had turned on the cold water.
It sobered her up considerably.
In the mirror, her cheeks were still tinged with pink, and her shimmering, fox-like eyes looked as if they were soaked in water—bright and glistening.
Leaning against the sink, Qiao Shu admitted to herself that she had no idea how long they had kissed. Jiang Tu truly lived up to his title as a film emperor; his kissing skills were nothing short of masterful.
A few minutes later, once she was certain nothing seemed out of the ordinary, Qiao Shu left the bathroom.
When she emerged, Jiang Tu was already lying in bed. The man wore red pajamas and was covered by a red quilt, making his cool, handsome face appear even paler.
Qiao Shu didn’t greet him. Instead, she circled around the foot of the bed to the other side, lifted the covers, climbed in, and turned off the light—all in one smooth motion.
Under the dim glow of the nightlight, the two lay on the large red Simmons mattress, sharing the same quilt but with enough space between them to fit two more people.
“Qiao Shu, I’m sorry about earlier.”
Qiao Shu stiffened all over. She hadn’t expected Jiang Tu to apologize. So he had realized the problem himself, huh?
Hmph! Kissing for that long!
“It’s fine. Professor Jiang’s kissing skills are so excellent—I can learn a lot from them. It’ll also lay a good foundation for future kissing scenes and help reduce my NG rate.”
Jiang Tu: “…”
The man fell silent. After a few seconds, Qiao Shu wondered why it suddenly felt several degrees colder.
Was the heating not strong enough?
Qiao Shu wrapped herself tighter in the quilt, but a large gap remained in the middle, allowing cold air to seep in relentlessly.
Gritting her teeth, she slowly inched closer to Jiang Tu’s side. She was terribly afraid of the cold and couldn’t shake the feeling that the heating was inadequate.
Sensing the girl’s movement, Jiang Tu stiffened slightly, then slowly closed his eyes, letting her shift closer without protest.
Once Qiao Shu was sure no more cold air was getting into the quilt, she closed her eyes and began counting sheep, deeply afraid she might suffer from insomnia.
Unexpectedly, she fell asleep almost immediately.
Driven by instinct, Qiao Shu sought out warmth in her sleep. Her cold feet found Jiang Tu’s warm ones, and in her dreams, she curled her lips in satisfaction.
Jiang Tu stiffened at the touch of her icy feet. He turned over and gazed at her in the faint, yellowish light.
The girl was sleeping soundly, wrapped tightly in the blanket, revealing a bright and charming little face.
Jiang Tu’s deep eyes flickered. The room was perfectly warm, so why were her feet so cold?