A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 25.1

The room temperature was just right, yet Luo Mijin felt waves of chilling cold. The world outside was a blizzard of snowflakes, like some bizarre nightmare.

All background noise had vanished, no more clamor, just an eerie silence that felt like an endless night.

This wasn’t a scenario she hadn’t imagined before. She had even rehearsed her lines and expressions meticulously.

A grand banquet hall strewn with petals, crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow over the wedding cake’s creamy frosting, she and Rong Qingyao reunited after years apart, standing face-to-face, witnessing each other’s newfound radiance and happiness.

In her fantasies, her eyes were hollow as she sat for hours in the midst of the lively, extravagant wedding, watching the woman in a pristine white gown pass her by and say “I do” to someone else.

Between them, at least one deserved happiness, didn’t she?

All those rehearsals must have paid off. Luo Mijin felt as though she were observing herself from a god’s-eye view, watching her own calm smile, her polite and composed handshake with Rong Qingyao, like a well-mannered mannequin.

“Congratulations, and happy engagement,” she forced her lips to form the right words.

Rong Qingyao had casually pinned up her waist-length hair, her snow-white skin and crimson lips exuding an intoxicating allure.

“Thank you.”

Their handshake was brief, perfunctory, and quickly broken.

Luo Mijin had done her research on Scott. At 27, he was the youngest son of the wealthy and prestigious Rayson family, current chairman of the Rayson Group.

Charismatic, utterly disinterested in business, obsessed with extreme sports like surfing and rock climbing and he had made a name for himself in those fields.

Having visited China as a child, he had developed a deep interest in the country and even taught himself Mandarin.

A fitting match for the accomplished Rong Qingyao.

“I didn’t expect you, Riddle, to still be working at a coffee shop. With your talent, if you were serious about forming a band, you’d be huge,” Scott remarked, glancing at the coffee shop logo on the delivery bag with a sigh. “So many of my friends love watching you play the drums.”

Luo Mijin clenched her fingers to keep them from trembling unnaturally, forcing a socially acceptable smile. “I’m just not good enough.”

If she could, she’d rather retreat into her shell like a snail. Just stepping outside and holding a normal conversation drained her completely.

Being a responsible adult was exhausting.

“What?” Scott gave an exaggeratedly friendly look, scratching his head earnestly. “You’re amazing, seriously. That’s why I waited months just to invite you to perform at our engagement party.”

“Thank you,” Luo Mijin murmured, unsure what else to say.

“It’s going to be an incredible performance, I promise,” he turned to Rong Qingyao with a grin, “Our wedding will be the event of the century.”

One hand resting lightly on her collar, Rong Qingyaoremained silent, her gaze lingering on the display cabinet of collectible vases as she picked through them.

Scott’s enthusiasm remained undampened. Still lost in his own excitement, he chattered animatedly to the two women in the room.

“Riddle, we still need to carefully select the performance pieces for the event, but I’m sure you’ll handle it flawlessly. I’ll provide your performance outfit, drum set, and sound equipment, with full media coverage. It’s going to be spectacular and will definitely boost your fame.”

“Thank you, I’ll prepare thoroughly,” Luo Mijin replied slowly. She had no right to feel jealous or upset now her only duty was to give Rong Qingyao a perfect wedding performance.

Perhaps this was another form of fulfillment in its own way.

“How about this,” Scott glanced at his diamond watch, it was only 9 PM, still early for a night owl like him. “Let’s order some late-night snacks and discuss the wedding performance details together. What do you think, Riddle?”

Hearing Scott’s overly familiar tone, a sharp glint flashed in Rong Qingyao’s eyes before she turned to select a glazed vase from the display cabinet, her slender fingers tracing the rim.

Luo Mijin kept her gaze lowered, her dazzling silver hair covering the redness at the corners of her eyes. Her clothes, washed and dried but unironed, looked crumpled, giving her a disheveled appearance.

A taut thread in her mind was being frayed by reality, nearing its breaking point. Escape was her best option now.

Seven years ago, they had been carefree students. Now, Rong Qingyao was about to become someone else’s wife.

This might be the last time she could openly look at Rong Qingyao.

“My apologies, Mr. Scott, it’s quite late, and I have urgent matters to attend to,” Luo Mijin declined politely, feeling too exhausted to even straighten her back. “I’ll send you the song selections for the wedding as soon as possible, along with the demo via email.”

Her refusal was firm, though her wandering eyes and tense posture betrayed her desperation to leave.

Despite being raised in privilege, Scott still had some gentlemanly instincts. He glanced at Rong Qingyao’s indifferent expression and softened his tone.

“Fair enough, it is getting late. My car’s outside, if you don’t mind, I can give you a ride home?”

“No need, thank you. I prefer cycling back.”

“Cycling? It’s freezing out there, and it’s a long way. Impressive,” Scott chuckled, giving her a thumbs-up. “Our extreme sports club could use someone like you. I’ll introduce you sometime, everyone there’s really friendly.”

Scott rambled on, “Or you could just stay at Qing’s place. There’s plenty of room.”

Once he started, he couldn’t stop. Luo Mijin forced a polite smile. “Thank you, but I’ll take my leave now.”

Her gaze flickered past Rong Qingyao before she nodded and headed straight for the door.

It felt more like fleeing for her life.

Rong Qingyao watched her retreating figure in silence.

“Qing, is this vase a birthday gift from Jin Huai?” Scott’s attention shifted quickly, this being his first time in the villa, he was observing everything like an eager child.

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but Rong Qingyao thought Luo Mijin hesitated for a second, as if she might turn back before leaving. But the silver-haired girl opened the door and walked away without looking back.

Rong Qingyao remained unusually quiet, her gaze unfocused, offering no answer to Scott’s question.

Putting on her beanie, Luo Mijin tried to detach herself from her emotions, mustering the courage to step alone into the snowstorm.

The blizzard outside was indeed fierce. After taking several deep breaths, she unlocked her bicycle, mechanically repeating in her mind that it was fine, everything was fine.

Mounting the bike, Luo Mijin switched on the headlight and pedaled stiffly forward.

She emptied her mind, wanting to ride faster, to escape this place so she wouldn’t have to dwell on how happy Rong Qingyao was without her.

Yet, riding mindlessly through the endless snow had its consequences: she crashed into an icy flower bed.

She fell hard, her knees going numb after a sharp burst of pain.

Fortunately, no one was around. She picked up the bike as if nothing had happened and stared blankly at her scraped, bleeding palms, Rong Qingyao’s soft, gentle voice echoing in her mind.

The woman had once said: “I’m right here. Just call if you need anything.”

But the truth was, Rong Qingyao wasn’t here. Nor was she anywhere else.

Luo Mijin and Rong Qingyao had been separated for a long time.

And they would remain so.

She pulled out an alcohol wipe from her pocket and pressed it against the bleeding wound. The searing pain brought involuntary tears to her eyes, but she ground the wipe deeper, as if relishing it.

Pain had a numbing effect. Over the years, she had grown addicted to this method of dulling the agony of never seeing Rong Qingyao again.

Turns out, Rong Qingyao wasn’t just doing better without her, she had long since moved on with someone else.

How many days in Rong Qingyao’s life had she even occupied?

At least there had been a few. That should be enough.

Only now did she realize that time solved nothing. It gave her no answers, nor did it let her forget even a little.

Perhaps after years of disappointment and hardship, the sadness soon gave way to numbness.

She had expected heart-wrenching pain, but it seemed to pass just like that.

She didn’t know if this was the relief of letting go or the resignation of helplessness.

“At least she’ll be happy.”

After whispering this to herself, Luo Mijin got back on her bike, the headlight cutting through the darkness.

Back in the villa, after a moment’s hesitation, Rong Qingyao impulsively chased after her. Standing under the snow-laden eaves, she was met with a fierce blizzard, the swirling snow casting a blinding white glow, nothing was visible.

Just like before.

The thinly dressed woman stood motionless in the heavy snow for a long time before slowly snapping out of it.

Scott knew Rong Qingyao had a severe aversion to others touching her belongings, so he didn’t dare sit anywhere.

First, there was only one sofa, and second, he was genuinely afraid of angering her, he merely leaned slightly to ease his aching legs.

“Qing, can’t you buy more furniture?” he complained quietly when she returned. “Apart from a desk, chairs, and this sofa, you barely have any tableware. This doesn’t feel like a home at all.”

“Don’t need it,” Rong Qingyao replied tersely.

Scott had seen her rush out earlier and now watched as she returned with an armful of flower stems. Curious, he asked:

“Do you like flowers or butterflies? So many people send you bouquets, yet you don’t even glance at them before tossing them in the trash.”

“I don’t like what they send,” Rong Qingyao said, meticulously trimming the stems of greenhouse-grown double peonies, bellflowers, lisianthus, and Scottish green roses before arranging them in a vase.

For a moment, the gloomy and cold-toned villa took on a more vibrant and elegant atmosphere.

“Then whose gift do you prefer?”

Rong Qingyao didn’t want to answer.

Considering changing to a different fragrance, Scott launched into chatterbox mode, speaking without reservation:

“Hey, don’t you think Riddle looks striking? That innocent yet world-weary manga face if she entered the entertainment industry, she’d be absolutely lethal.”

Rong Qingyao remained focused, single-mindedly trimming the flower stems.

“If I weren’t already with Mike, I’d definitely pursue her, using every trick in the book clinginess, coquettishness, you name it.”

Just as Scott was joking around, he turned and met Rong Qingyao’s murderously cold gaze.

“Didn’t you say you knew you liked men since you were seven? What’s this now your orientation becoming fluid?”

“Why so harsh? Are you the purity police? Can’t even take a joke.” Scott blinked and continued, undeterred. “I wonder what it’d be like to date someone like Riddle. I’d love to know.”

Seeing Rong Qingyao silently arranging flowers, exuding an aloof, untouchable, and ascetic aura, he sighed dramatically. “I think Riddle would be the one doing the dumping.”

Rong Qingyao’s heart twinged as if struck, but she suppressed the urge to tell Scott to shut up.

“Why are you here? Didn’t we agree not to interfere in each other’s personal lives?”

“As if I wanted to come,” Scott shot back, giving Rong Qingyao a sidelong glance. “Jinhui said you weren’t responding to her messages. She was so worried she asked me to check if you’d passed out from another headache.”

“I’m fine. So, young master, please leave.” Rong Qingyao lowered her lashes, her expression distant, her gaze icy and penetrating.

“Hey, even if this is just an engagement of convenience, you could at least pretend. You left everything about the engagement party to me the banquet, menu, cake, band it wore me out. And now you’re treating me like this?”

“Save your energy. Pretend when others are around.” Rong Qingyao placed the vase on the windowsill, her eyes lingering on the fluttering snowflakes. “From now on, if you contact her, you’ll need to inform me first.”

“Huh? Contact who, oh, Riddle?” Scott smirked teasingly. “Don’t tell me the thousand-year-old iron tree is finally blooming? Do you have a crush on her too? Want me to give you her number?”

“You can leave now.” Rong Qingyao issued her second dismissal, her headache worsening.

“Hold on, this is my first time at your place.” Scott noticed Rong Qingyao’s growing pallor. “Another episode? Didn’t you take painkillers? I thought Jinhui said the new doctor she recommended was good?”

Bai Jinhui was Rong Qingyao’s graduate school classmate at H University. Coming from a well-off family, she now worked with Rong Qingyao and had grown familiar with Scott over time.

“I’m used to it.” Rong Qingyao closed her eyes slightly, her lips blood-red, her dark pupils fathomless, exuding a sickly aura of decay.

“You really can endure it, a whole day of headaches without a word. Wait, hold on, something’s off.”

Rong Qingyao finally deigned to spare him a glance.

“I remember the band members told me Riddle was mute, but she just spoke earlier. Was she really mute before, or was she pretending?”

“Mute?” Rong Qingyao tightened her grip on the pale golden scissors, her voice steady as she asked.

Scott leaned against the cabinet with his long legs stretched out, recalling as he spoke:

“I visited several bands, and they all said Riddle never spoke apparently she became mute due to illness and communicated solely through sign language and typing. But her drumming is incredible, with exceptional control and musicality. Maybe that’s just the artist’s quirk, being different from the norm.”

Rong Qingyao tried to ignore the sharp throbbing pain in her head, tapping the desk with one hand to signal Scott to continue.

“Today must be a miracle you’re actually interested in someone like this. I happen to have footage of her performance. I’ll send it to you. If you’re not satisfied.” Scott hesitated before cautiously adding, “Qing, even if you’re not happy with her, please don’t replace her, okay?”

“Why? Does your little boyfriend like her that much?” For some reason, Rong Qingyao didn’t want Luo Mijin appearing at this so-called engagement ceremony.

At that, Scott blushed briefly. “Mike did confess to me during Riddle’s performance.”

Then, composing himself, he said seriously, “But that’s not the point. That Riddle don’t judge her by appearances, she’s actually struggling financially and really needs the money.”

“You mean she’s not doing well?” Rong Qingyao’s brow furrowed, her headache worsening.

“How would I know the details? She just really needs money. She even asked me if she could get an advance payment.”

Rong Qingyao’s frown deepened as she interrupted for the first time. “Did you give it to her?”

Startled by her icy gaze, Scott took a nervous step back. “O-of course I did. Five thousand.”

“Give her another five.”

“Huh?” Scott was dumbfounded, he’d never seen Rong Qingyao act so generous.

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