This Best Actress is a Bit Annoying - Chapter 26.1

The cinemas during the New Year were packed. Couples, families, groups of students out for fun—everyone was pouring in. Many people, tired from shopping, took one look at the crowds at the cinema entrance and immediately beat a retreat.

The lobby was overflowing; some had found seats early, while others stood around chatting as they waited for ticket inspection. The atmosphere was boisterous, as if the entire population of the capital had squeezed into one spot.

Nie Zhuying was fully camouflaged, revealing only a pair of bright eyes. She glanced at the long queue for tickets and immediately shot Xia Qingye a glare.

Xia Qingye didn’t go to the movies often. Her past experiences were almost always with Zhong Ruanqin; the two would disguise themselves and watch midnight screenings, sitting in the very back row so they could hold hands without being discovered. Occasionally being spotted by a fan felt thrilling—almost like an illicit affair.

Looking at the person beside her now, wearing a pale yellow hat, a thick mask, and a massive, oversized down jacket, she realized that by shrinking her head down, Nie Zhuying could quite effectively pretend she didn’t exist.

“Has this ever failed you?”

“Huh?”

Xia Qingye pointed at the other’s disguise. Nie Zhuying’s camouflage was always the same: even if she wore form-fitting clothes underneath, she’d throw on a huge, ill-fitting coat, followed by a hat, a mask, or a scarf.

She had seen her like this three times now and realized the “formula” never changed. A slightly clever “brain-dead fan” could unmask her in seconds.

Seeing Nie’s blank expression, Xia Qingye smartly changed the subject. “What do you want to watch? There are quite a few blockbusters out. You pick.”

“Let me see.”

There were three major New Year films released simultaneously to catch the high winter break traffic. Nie Zhuying studied the titles on the display screen, muttering to herself as she checked the cast lists. She immediately excluded any films featuring actors she disliked. While she picked, Xia Qingye watched her, finding that when Nie Zhuying was focused, she possessed an exceptionally charming and attractive aura.

Xia Qingye wasn’t sure what had possessed her to impulsively demand a “movie date.” Perhaps she was simply being tortured by memories to the point of madness, and only being near this person could distract her and lighten her mood.

“I want to see the comedy, Flying Dragon in the Sky.”

“Alright. Want anything to eat?”

“Ice cream.”

Xia Qingye’s brow furrowed imperceptibly. Although she had told Nie Zhuying to treat her, she ended up being the one to pay. That lazy person just leaned against a stone pillar, watching her queue and buy things, with no intention of helping.

“The line for ice cream is too long; we’ll miss the entrance time if we wait. Let’s have it next time.”

“Popcorn, then.”

“Okay.”

Xia Qingye watched the empty-handed Nie Zhuying suddenly embrace a giant tub of popcorn. The Film Queen pulled her mask down slightly and stuffed two pieces into her mouth, chewing with a crunch-crunch sound. Her cheeks puffed out cutely, looking very much like… her pet hamster.

“Wha are you staring a’ me for?”

“Nothing. Just making sure your face isn’t exposed. We go in for inspection in fifteen minutes; don’t let your fans recognize you.”

Hearing this, Nie Zhuying was so startled she stopped chewing. She peeked around the crowd like a thief, and seeing that most people were preoccupied and no one was paying attention, she lightheartedly started eating again. Crunch, crunch.

The two didn’t talk much. One looked around while the other kept her head down, browsing Weibo.

On Weibo, the video of Nie Zhuying’s live stream from today had been recorded and reposted. In just a few hours, the comments and shares had surpassed ten thousand. Nie Zhuying was “lurking” and reading everything.

Xia Qingye heard the person beside her giggling incessantly as if she’d seen something hilarious. She glanced over and saw the trending headlines. Xia Qingye instinctively touched the phone in her pocket, hesitated, and decided not to take it out.

When the ticket inspector’s voice rang out, Xia Qingye took the popcorn tub into her own arms and grabbed the other’s hand, leading her into the theater like a child being led into a zoo. “Time for inspection.”

Nie Zhuying looked up at her. Since someone was leading her, she didn’t feel anything was wrong. She kept her head down, focusing all her attention on her phone, taking screenshots of funny comments to save.

Fortunately, once the movie started, Nie Zhuying put her phone away and focused entirely on the screen.

The film was a classic New Year comedy. It told the story of a dragon egg that falls from the sky and is picked up by a family who thinks it’s a dinosaur egg to be studied. Eventually, a child hatches out. The dragon-child, “Dandan,” lives with this ordinary family, evolving from a troublemaker to a sensible child, learning to receive and give back love.

It wasn’t a deep philosophical film, but the director captured the “daily life” of the family movingly. Using small household conflicts—like the couple arguing over money or the child being bullied at school—the film presented a strong moral compass to the audience.

The story unfolded with an exaggerated style, and the actors playing the family were all top-tier powerhouses. Their performances were full of energy and incredibly funny. Even Xia Qingye couldn’t help but double over with laughter at certain scenes.

Nie Zhuying, whose “laughter threshold” was clearly very low, laughed from beginning to end. At her most exaggerated point, she nearly slid off her seat, only for Xia Qingye to pull her back just in time.

At the end of the film, the dragon-child had to return to his own world, bidding a tearful farewell to the family. The entire hall went quiet; occasionally, the voices of children in the front row could be heard: “Don’t go! Mama, I don’t want Dandan to leave.”

Xia Qingye smiled. These family comedies always ended with an open, happy resolution.

Just as this thought crossed her mind, she heard a low sniffle beside her, like someone with a cold blowing their nose. She looked suspiciously at her companion and found that Nie Zhuying had unmasked herself and was using a tissue to wipe the corners of her eyes.

Xia Qingye: “…”

She had learned another thing about Nie Zhuying: she cried as easily as she laughed.

For the final minutes of the film, Xia Qingye barely watched. Her mind was filled with the bizarre image of Nie Zhuying’s usually spirited face covered in tears. For some reason, it made her want to laugh.

After the movie, Xia Qingye and Nie Zhuying sat in the back row until everyone else had left before leisurely heading toward the exit.

Xia Qingye was considering taking her shopping—after all, they were already out and it was still early; young people shouldn’t waste their energy staying indoors all day.

She had only taken a few steps when her wrist was grabbed. She met a pair of slightly reddened eyes. Her guess was right: the Great Film Queen had actually cried over a comedy.

“I want to watch it again.”

“…”

To convince her, Nie Zhuying gave a firm nod. “It’s fun. We have nothing to do at home anyway; let’s watch it one more time.”

They watched it a second time, and then a third.

By the third viewing, while Xia Qingye had laughed at the beginning, she now spent the time sitting in her seat watching Nie Zhuying double over beside her. Occasionally, her arm would even get a sharp pinch from the other woman in her excitement.

Xia Qingye maintained a deadpan face, thinking: I really should use my phone to record this “persona-breaking” image of Nie Zhuying…

It was New Year’s Day, and many restaurants were fully booked or closed for the holiday. Aside from entertainment venues being packed and the roads being busy, finding a place to eat was difficult. They circled around for a while and eventually decided to drive home.

By the time they got back, it was 8:00 PM.

Xia Qingye saw Xia Yanbo sitting at the dining table with a single plate of dumplings, slowly dipping them in sauce. The sight was quite pitiful.

She said, “Brother, eat slowly. We haven’t had dinner yet; I’ll cook us some dishes.”

Xia Yanbo shot them both a look of deep grievance. He’d been waiting since 7:00, his stomach growling so loudly he’d nearly ordered takeout. He stood up and followed her into the kitchen. “Didn’t you say you were just going for a movie? How is it this late? Don’t tell me you waited five or six hours for one show.”

Xia Qingye looked helpless. “It was indeed one movie, but we watched it three times.”

Xia Yanbo: “…”

Finding him unhelpful and just taking up space in the kitchen, Xia Qingye pushed him out, saying in a similarly helpless tone, “Just sit nicely; it’ll be ready soon.”

She reheated the lunch dishes and stir-fried a fresh side dish. The three of them ate with great relish, leaving not a drop of soup behind. Afterward, they went about their own business and returned to their rooms.

Xia Qingye cleaned the kitchen before heading upstairs. Fortunately, the original owner had occasionally made pastries when bored, and she had used that as a vague excuse with Xia Yanbo, so she had been in charge of the kitchen these past few days.

After the long day, she felt quite exhausted. Before she could open her door, she heard a blunt “Hey” from behind.

Nie Zhuying was standing outside the guest room in a bathrobe. Her hair was soaking wet and dripping. She held a dry towel in one hand as if she’d rushed out before drying it, and her phone in the other.

Seeing this “beauty emerging from a bath” scene, Xia Qingye’s heavy eyelids snapped open. She blinked. “Do you need something?”

Nie Zhuying beckoned her. “Give me your phone number.”

Xia Qingye looked at her in confusion but recited the digits anyway. Just as she was about to step closer, she saw the little white creature circling Nie Zhuying’s ankles, trying to break past the defensive line to the hallway. She immediately backed up two steps and gave a dry laugh. “Miss Nie, is there anything else?”

“No.”

“Then I’m going back to my room.”

Early the next morning, Xia Qingye was woken by her phone. Peeking at it, she saw it was Wei Xianghong.

“Sister Xiang, Happy New Year.”

“From the sound of it, you aren’t up yet, so I’ll keep it brief.” Wei Xianghong crisply detailed a small public service advertisement (PSA) for her. “I also got the script for Director Zhuang’s commercial drama; it looks very good. When should I send it to you? Also, you’d best call Director Xun to pull some strings; if you don’t know what to say, I’ll go with you.”

Hearing about the PSA and the movie, Xia Qingye was fully awake. “Please send the script over, Sister Xiang.”

Wei Xianghong was pleased. Her artist was ambitious. She’d made the call primarily to make sure the girl hadn’t grown lazy over the holidays.

Xia Qingye sent her home address to Wei Xianghong and got up. Outside, the sky was just turning light. The cold wind was howling, and a bare tree outside the door swayed violently, looking exceptionally bleak. She threw on a down jacket and went downstairs to whip up breakfast.

Just as she finished eating, Wei Xianghong’s call arrived.

Xia Qingye glanced at Xia Yanbo and Nie Zhuying at the table, gave her agent directions over the phone, and went to the door to greet her. “My manager is here.”

Wei Xianghong parked the car under Xia Qingye’s direction and looked around. “This villa area is quite grand. The prices were sky-high when it opened; so many people wanted in but couldn’t. Great environment, good security… I had to register just to get in. If not for your call, I’d probably still be stuck at the gate.”

Xia Qingye didn’t respond. she remembered that the original owner, out of vanity, had begged her brother to buy this place just to prove to their uncle and aunt that they were wealthy. Now, it felt like an extreme luxury and a waste for just two people to live in such a high-end villa.

“You’ve worked hard, Sister Xiang. You probably haven’t had breakfast; come join us. We can discuss the PSA in detail.”

“I won’t be intruding?”

“Not at all.”

Wei Xianghong was a chatterbox when it came to work. She talked as she entered the house, expecting only Xia Yanbo and Xia Qingye. But the moment she stepped inside and saw the third person, she was not okay.

Holy sht, am I seeing things?*

Xia Qingye followed her gaze. She’d given a heads-up earlier, thinking the two would avoid her agent, but the two in the dining room were still leisurely eating breakfast, each looking at their own phones, completely unaffected.

“Sister Xiang, sit for a moment. I’ll get you some breakfast.”

Xia Yanbo looked up at Wei Xianghong. “Sister Xiang, Happy New Year. Treat this place like your own; don’t be formal.”

Wei Xianghong gave a dazed response, still looking incredulous, her gaze flicking toward Nie Zhuying as if checking the authenticity of a product.

Nie Zhuying shed her lazy appearance, put away her phone, and looked at Wei Xianghong with a half-smile. “Surprised to see me?”

Under that sharp gaze, Wei Xianghong immediately shook her head. Now she was certain the person before her was the real deal. She quickly recovered herself. “Hello, I’m Qingye’s manager.”

Nie Zhuying was also a bit surprised by this. Back at the Hengdian set, she hadn’t seen Wei Xianghong—Xia Qingye only had a clumsy little girl with her. She hadn’t expected Wei Xianghong to be the manager. “Hello, Sister Wei. I often hear Sister Ling mention you.”

Wei Xianghong and Zhou Ling weren’t in the same company, but Wei Xianghong’s “legendary” stories from earlier years were well-known throughout the industry. To a junior agent like Zhou Ling, Wei Xianghong was an idol and a figure of worship. Consequently, Nie Zhuying often heard Zhou Ling babbling about how amazing Wei Xianghong was.

Wei Xianghong was several years older than Zhou Ling and a senior in the circle. Hearing Nie Zhuying’s words, her confidence returned. “You mean Xiao Zhou? I didn’t think she’d still remember me.”

By the time Xia Qingye brought the porridge and side dishes, Wei Xianghong and Nie Zhuying were chatting as warmly as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. That level of enthusiasm made Xia Qingye feel that these two were the perfect match: a gold-medal agent and an international Film Queen. No problem at all.

“Sister Xiang, have some porridge first.”

“Alright.”

“By the way, that PSA is actually based on a preventable real-life tragedy in modern society. We hope it alerts parents to care for their children and not let the ‘flowers of the motherland’ be led astray by greedy people.”

In recent years, the impact of various “campus micro-loans” on students had become a widespread social problem. Some students fell into depravity because of them, while others chose to end their young lives under the pressure. These reports were everywhere. The PSA aimed to call for parents to care for their children and pay attention to the problems students face during their growth.

Wei Xianghong didn’t hide the conversation from Nie Zhuying. “Qingye, what do you think?”

Xia Qingye had been interested the moment she heard the general idea this morning. If it were a typical commercial, she felt that aside from some extra cash, it wouldn’t improve her image. On the contrary, once her image was established, those ads might lower her overall “class.” But a PSA was different; it reached a wide audience and was meaningful. Filming it—even if it didn’t go viral—would bring her nothing but benefits.

As for the pay, she didn’t even consider it. Even if it were for free, she would take it.

Nie Zhuying took it for granted: “Of course she’ll take it.” Realizing her comment sounded too presumptive, she coughed twice and caught Xia Qingye’s eye, lecturing her from a senior’s perspective: “You only have one film, and you won’t have popularity until it premieres. During this gap, a PSA will help build some goodwill. Once the drama airs, you’ll be set.”

A flicker of a smile passed through Xia Qingye’s eyes. She turned to a clearly distracted Wei Xianghong. “Sister Xiang, I want to try.”

Wei Xianghong nodded. She had expected to spend a lot of effort explaining the pros and cons of a PSA to move her high-standards artist. Who knew that a single sentence from Nie Zhuying would be more effective than ten of hers?

“Sister Xiang?”

“Right. One more thing… the dinner meeting. You should know about it, right?” Wei Xianghong spoke cryptically.

Nie Zhuying clearly sensed they had “classified” business to discuss. She stood up abruptly. “I’m going up to feed Nuonuo.”

Xia Qingye grabbed Nie Zhuying’s wrist and said with a smile, “Today I want to host a dinner for Director Xun to thank him for looking after me on set. I definitely won’t be cooking at home. Do you want to come along for a free meal?”