128: Chapter 128 Xu Tianhou's Second Script

Jiang Fan threw Xu Qingya onto the bed.

"Let's see how the bed scene goes first."

Xu Qingya kicked at him.

She missed.

Her ankle was grabbed by a hand.

Jiang Fan's palm slid from her lower leg toward the inside of her knee.

Xu Qingya pulled her leg back slightly.

"What kind of rehearsal method is this..." Her voice was a bit weak.

Jiang Fan didn't reply, his hand already wrapping around to her waist, his fingers hooking the edge of her hot pants.

Xu Qingya braced herself on the bed, arching her back.

"Wait a second."

The white camisole strap slid halfway down her shoulder, the skin below her collarbone glowing under the light.

"Wait for what?"

"I... I'm not ready yet." Her voice was trembling, "If we're really going to rehearse, there has to be some context, right? Your script has nothing, you just start with..."

"Context?" Jiang Fan paused, "The context is that the female lead got drunk and walked into the security room."

Xu Qingya froze.

"The consequence is that she discovers this security guard looks pretty good."

Jiang Fan's hand was still resting on her waist.

The fabric of her hot pants was hooked by his knuckles, already pulled down below her hip bones, revealing the edge of black lace.

"What a terrible script, it's rotten." Xu Qingya grabbed the hand still causing trouble and pulled it away from her waist.

"The director is awful, and the actor... the actor doesn't want to act anymore either."

Jiang Fan's wrist was held by her, but he didn't struggle, just looked at her like that.

Xu Qingya sat up and casually pulled the camisole strap that had slipped to her arm back onto her shoulder.

"You call this rehearsing? Just ripping off pants right away, what kind of director is this."

"Oh? How does Diva Xu want to shoot it?"

"If we're really going to shoot, there has to be some buildup." Xu Qingya rolled off the bed, her bare feet stepping on the carpet, "For example... the story background, the character relationships. If we're going to shoot, let's shoot something different."

Jiang Fan leaned against the headboard, watching her intently.

Xu Qingya's voice held a hint of mischief: "Director Jiang, this scene needs a different way of shooting."

Then she took off the camisole tank top she was wearing.

"Close your eyes first."

Jiang Fan raised an eyebrow.

"Close them!" Xu Qingya's tone was firm, "Otherwise, we're not shooting."

Jiang Fan had no choice but to comply and close his eyes.

Xu Qingya covered his eyes with the camisole in her hand.

The fabric was very thin, carrying the lingering warmth of her body and a faint fragrance.

His vision fell into a soft darkness.

"Don't you dare peek." Her voice was right by his ear, "Wait for me a moment."

Footsteps hurried away; judging by the direction, she walked into the walk-in closet on the side of the bedroom.

Jiang Fan sat on the bed, his eyes covered, able only to rely on his hearing.

From the closet came the sound of fabric rubbing, the soft noise of a zipper sliding, and the muffled sound of closet doors opening and closing.

He raised his hand to pull off the camisole covering his eyes.

"I said don't move!" Xu Qingya's voice came from the closet, carrying a warning.

Jiang Fan's hand stopped in mid-air and then lowered back down.

About two minutes later, footsteps slowly approached and stopped at the bedside.

He could feel her standing there, her gaze fixed on him.

"Can I open them now?"

"Wait." Xu Qingya's voice was a bit tight, but she was trying hard to maintain composure, "Stretch out your hands first."

Jiang Fan extended his hands as instructed.

"Raise them higher."

He raised his hands to his chest.

Then—click.

The sound of the metal locking was very soft, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet bedroom.

His eyes were still covered by the camisole, but he already understood.

"You..." He moved his wrists, the chain of the metal handcuffs emitting a faint clinking sound.

"Don't move around." Xu Qingya's voice was right in front of him, very close, "We haven't even started yet."

Then her fingers touched the camisole covering his eyes and gently pulled it down.

Light flooded back in.

Jiang Fan blinked.

When he saw the person in front of him clearly, he froze.

Xu Qingya stood by the bed.

A black leather jacket wrapped around her upper body, the zipper pulled down to below her collarbone, revealing a stretch of fair neck and cleavage.

Leather gloves covered her up to her forearms, with a cutout design at the knuckles.

Below, she wore tight leather pants that accentuated the clean lines of her legs.

Her right hand held a black leather whip studded with metal rivets.

The tip of the whip tapped lightly against her own palm.

Xu Qingya tilted her head slightly, the corners of her mouth curling up, her eyes filled with the triumph of a successful prank and a touch of provocation.

"Director Jiang," she lowered her voice, trying hard to imitate a certain languid tone, "Today's scene, I will direct."

Jiang Fan looked down at the handcuffs on his wrists, then looked up at her outfit.

He couldn't help it; his shoulders shook slightly.

"Don't laugh!" Xu Qingya's whip pointed at him, "Be serious! Now I am the director, and you are... the actor."

"What role am I?"

"A spy being interrogated." Xu Qingya blurted out, then froze for a moment herself, as if she hadn't thought through the specific setup.

"In short, you've been caught by me."

Jiang Fan moved his wrists; although the handcuffs weren't tight, he couldn't easily break free.

Xu Qingya cleared her throat.

"Starting now, you answer whatever I ask."

"Okay."

"You—" Xu Qingya rolled her eyes, "Who sent you?"

"Myself."

"Nonsense!" The whip lifted and lightly flicked against his chest, with a force no more than a tickle.

"Confess honestly! What is your purpose in approaching Xu Qingya?"

Jiang Fan looked at her.

The leather jacket pulled her waistline in very tightly, and her long legs wrapped in leather pants stood straight, but the knuckles of the hand holding the whip were slightly white—

She was actually very nervous.

"Purpose?"

"Yes." Xu Qingya tried hard to maintain a cold expression, "Why did you approach me, and how could you write those songs? Who gave them to you?"

"No one gave them to me. I thought of them myself."

"I don't believe you!" Xu Qingya took half a step forward, the tip of the whip lifting his chin, "If you don't tell the truth, then..."

"Then what?"

Xu Qingya bit her lip.

She hadn't thought about the next step at all.

But the arrow was on the string.

"Then..." The tip of the whip slid down his chin and tapped lightly on his collarbone, "I'll use some heavy-duty torture."

"So, you have one last chance now, confess and be lenient."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you will..." Xu Qingya leaned in a bit closer, the zipper of her leather jacket emitting a faint rubbing sound, "be very, very regretful."

Jiang Fan tilted his head, watching her posturing.

Xu Qingya circled to the side of the bed; the wine-red nail polish on her toes paired with this black leather outfit had an indescribable sense of incongruity.

"Prisoner." Her voice was very low, "Do you know the consequences of not cooperating?"

"I don't."

"Then I'll tell you." Xu Qingya pulled the whip back.

"Snap."

She snapped the whip against the edge of the bed; the sound was quite loud, but it was half a meter away from Jiang Fan's thigh.

Xu Qingya herself was startled by the noise and pulled her hand back.

She walked to the foot of the bed, pressed one knee onto the edge, and slowly crawled up.

The hem of her leather jacket flipped up with the movement, revealing a stretch of her waist.

She knelt in front of Jiang Fan, looking down at him.

"Last chance."

"Speak."

"Do you... or do you not like Xu Qingya?"

Jiang Fan froze for a moment.

What kind of interrogation question is this?

Xu Qingya's expression was very serious, but her face was already completely flushed.

"Answer." She tapped his lips with the tip of the whip.

"I do."

Xu Qingya's eyelashes trembled.

"...What do you like about her?"

"I like everything."

"Be specific!"

Jiang Fan looked at her; the handcuffs limited his range of motion, but he still leaned forward.

"I like it when she sings. I like the way she eats bread. I like the way she pretends to be fierce in this leather outfit."

Xu Qingya's "cold" expression completely collapsed.

The corners of her mouth curled up, then she forcibly pressed them down.

"You... you are just trying to curry favor with the interrogator, you're trying to get a reduced sentence."

"Yes, my Queen." Jiang Fan cooperated well, "Can you unlock the handcuffs?"

"No."

Xu Qingya straightened up, straddling his legs, her fingers sliding down his chest.

Her hand touched his belt buckle, fumbling with it for a long time.

The leather gloves were too thick; after struggling for nearly a minute, the belt buckle finally popped open.

Xu Qingya let out a long breath, a thin layer of sweat beading on her forehead.

"Did you do this with your belt on purpose?"

"How would I know you were going to interrogate me today."

Xu Qingya ignored him and continued downward.

Her movements were very slow, carrying a deliberate, clumsy sense of control.

Jiang Fan was handcuffed and truly couldn't move.

But his gaze followed her the whole time.

Xu Qingya bit the glove on her right hand with her teeth, pulling it off one finger at a time.

Her bare fingers pressed against his abdominal muscles; the temperature difference made both of them shiver.

Xu Qingya leaned down, her hair falling from both sides of her shoulders.

"Hiss—" Jiang Fan couldn't help but gasp.