A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 20

The lights dimmed atmospherically, casting them into a dusky blue haze where they locked eyes and embraced, as if an urgent, tormenting thirst lingered between their lips.

Luo Mijin could distinctly feel the woman’s rose-like lips in the darkness, brushing faintly against the corner of her mouth, sending an electric tingle straight to her chest.

“Senior Qingyao…”

“Don’t speak. Let me look at you properly.” Rong Qingyao’s voice was soft, her eyes misty and intoxicating.

Being this close, she finally noticed how much thinner Luo Mijin had become.

So, she grew even bolder, tracing the contours of the other’s features with her fingertips.

Thick hair, fair skin, and a frame almost too slender her ears even seemed to perk up slightly, quiet and unassuming like a well-behaved little animal.

“Have you ever brought anyone else here?” Rong Qingyao asked, feigning nonchalance.

“No, you’re my first guest.”

A faint smile tugged at Rong Qingyao’s lips. “Good.”

She thought Luo Mijin was like a single-celled organism simple, straightforward, and adorable.

Even though they had done far more intimate things before, Luo Mijin’s heart still pounded wildly now.

During the competition, in the final moments before placing her piece, she had burned with feverish desperation to see Rong Qingyao.

She hadn’t cared about the risk of being dragged home by her grandfather and confined for a year, nor had she stopped to consider whether Rong Qingyao even wanted to see her.

She had rushed back recklessly, impulsively.

Luckily, Rong Qingyao did want to see her.

“You’ve lost weight. Have you not been eating properly?” Rong Qingyao remembered Luo Mijin hated bell peppers. “Such a picky eater.”

Caught out, Luo Mijin immediately protested, “I have not!”

“I don’t believe you,” Rong Qingyao teased, skepticism in her tone as she idly played with Luo Mijin’s left hand.

The scent of snow filled her senses, and Luo Mijin’s retort died in her throat as the woman’s long lashes brushed against her palm like tiny feathers, sending shivers of electricity through her.

Rong Qingyao’s waist was slender and supple, her collarbones delicate and sharply defined, flushed an alluring pink by the summer heat.

Suddenly, Rong Qingyao pressed a clean, fragrant fingertip to Luo Mijin’s lips and stood, putting distance between them.

She had always been skilled at controlling proximity.

Luo Mijin didn’t dare say it aloud, but Rong Qingyao was breathtaking like a seductive spirit who stole souls, elegant yet utterly mesmerizing.

“Senior?”

“Didn’t you say you’d teach me? Play the drums for me first.” Rong Qingyao settled into a nearby armchair, resting her chin on her hand, her voice sweet and soft.

“Okay,” Luo Mijin nodded earnestly, the heat and excitement inside her flaring higher, her expression bright and innocent.

Turning on the full sound system, she flashed Rong Qingyao a slightly shy smile.

A classic old song began to play, filled with the sounds of bass, keyboard, and guitar but the drums were all Luo Mijin’s doing.

With drumsticks in hand, Luo Mijin seemed like a different person head slightly bowed, exuding an air of detached coolness, effortlessly nonchalant yet undeniably striking.

The passionate love song pulsed with raw vitality under her powerful beats, especially when, after twirling her drumsticks, she unexpectedly added a dazzling fill.

The scene was surreal and exhilarating, as if a phantom performance had merged with reality in Luo Mijin’s hands.

Her drumming felt like it filled the hollow beats missing from her mundane existence.

As the song ended, Rong Qingyao clapped gently, her applause neither overly flattering nor deliberately ingratiating.

“It was beautiful and very unique.”

Playing the drums was physically demanding, and Luo Mijin’s face was glistening with a thin layer of sweat, her damp bangs falling over her eyes.

“You’re the first audience I’ve had besides my sister. We couldn’t form a band, so we had to remove the drum parts from the songs and play them ourselves. I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.”

Luo Mijin felt like a mischievous child, eager to show herself to someone she had taken a liking to, hoping to be understood and cherished.

“I loved it. You can play the drums for me again sometime.”

“My sister secretly saved up to enroll me in drum lessons. I can only sneak in to practice once every two weeks, so I’m not very professional.”

“Does your family not allow you to play the drums?”

“Yeah, my grandfather thinks it’s a waste of time, something unworthy of respect. He won’t let me like rock bands either. I really wanted to go to Eve’s concert.”

Rong Qingyao didn’t understand why Luo Mijin’s life was so constrained and lacking in freedom.

But with Luo Mijin’s background and personality, everything about her shouldn’t have been this way.

“Have you ever gotten hurt practicing alone?”

Luo Mijin, who had been rambling on, was caught off guard by Rong Qingyao’s question and froze.

No one had ever cared about her like this before.

“Playing drums for too long can damage your hearing, and you need to protect your hands,” Rong Qingyao continued.

“Okay, I will,” Luo Mijin replied boldly, taking Rong Qingyao’s hand. “There’s also an open-air loft here where you can lie down and watch the stars.”

She led Rong Qingyao upstairs, the old wooden stairs creaking underfoot, tiny specks of dust settling in their wake.

It was called a loft, but it was really just the rooftop, enclosed by a wooden railing with a waterproof tarp and dry straw spread in the middle.

They lay down together, gazing at the river of stars stretching across the night sky, the swirling starlight shaped by the vast winds into forms of freedom.

“When I was little, I thought the stars looked like a chessboard, so I used them as pieces and played against myself.”

“How did you play?”

“Like this,” Luo Mijin said, resting one hand behind her head while lightly tapping a star with the other. “I move here.”

Rong Qingyao looked thoughtful, then after a moment, her slender, pale finger pointed slightly. “Then I move here.”

Luo Mijin’s heart trembled. Since growing up, no one had ever indulged her in such childish games.

She didn’t know how many moments like this life would grant her, where the rest of the world and its noise, mockery, or scorn were erased by the brilliance of the stars, leaving only what truly mattered.

Here, in the wilderness, she and Rong Qingyao played their celestial game, whispering and laughing as if fleeing or eloping.

Later, Luo Mijin would come to understand one truth: you never realize the significance of a moment until it becomes a memory.

Gradually, a light rain began to fall, blurring their starry chessboard with mist.

Rong Qingyao was still deep in thought over her next move when Luo Mijin couldn’t help but turn slightly, her gaze landing on the pale, delicate nape of Rong Qingyao’s neck, the damp ends of her hair curling slightly, carrying a faint, snow-like fragrance.

Without warning, Rong Qingyao turned to meet Luo Mijin’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Luo Mijin’s face flushed red. After a moment of hesitation, she whispered:

“When my sister and I ran away from home, we lived here. Later, we secretly saved up to buy this place. It’s far from humans, very safe.”

“Here’s a key for you. Come whenever you want to escape from people.” Luo Mijing produced another gleaming silver key from her palm, like some wonderful omen of warmth.

Rong Qingyao considered herself a gambler, betting on uncertain futures. But for the first time, she was certain about this love, it was hers without having to gamble.

Perhaps only those who’ve received enough love know how to love someone properly.

Yet there were moments when she desperately wished she could possess the ability to love.

“When I was little, I made friends with many stars. They pinky-promised they’d always play with me,” Luo Mijing placed another piece, capturing all of Rong Qingyao’s white stones. “After today, my stars will be your friends too.”

The silent night sky shattered in the curtain of rustling rain, like divine fireworks grazing their game board.

Luo Mijing wiped rainwater from her eyes, carefully counted the pieces, then turned to Rong Qingyao with a smile:

“Senior Qingyao, you’ve lost.”

“Yes, I lost to you,” Rong Qingyao grasped her collar and murmured before kissing her.

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