A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 25.2

“Didn’t you ask her to produce a demo first? It’s normal to pay extra.” Irritated, she flipped through the script on the desk but quickly set it aside after a few pages.

Scott’s attention shifted quickly, as usual. “After winning the Best Actress award, you’ve been acting less and less. Are you planning to retire and focus on dominating the business world?”

“I’ll still consider good scripts.”

“Once I get my inheritance, I’ll invest another few million into your company,” Scott said eagerly. He was something of a spoiled rich kid with no real ambition.

Back in university, he’d met Rong Qingyao during her graduate studies and followed her lead in investing in several companies, even dabbling as an angel investor. Though there were ups and downs, the overall returns were impressive.

Rong Qingyao had made her first fortune through her uncanny foresight, investing in businesses and then entering the entertainment industry as an actress.

Now, after years of navigating the business world, she could even rival the established powerhouse of the Cen Group.

If the old Rong Qingyao had been like a freshly minted antique, her current worth was now beyond the reach of most.

So, he was more than happy to entrust his assets to her management, knowing he could just sit back and watch the profits roll in.

“By the way, I heard those self-righteous siblings of the Cen family are getting restless, plotting to take your power?”

“I know.”

“Old Man Cen treats you, his daughter, like a disposable tool. Little does he know your heart is both ruthless and cunning. When our group joins forces, even the Cen family won’t stand a chance.”

“Watch your words.”

“I know, don’t celebrate too early. But you’re acting strange today could you be reminiscing about some unforgettable lover?” Scott chuckled at his own joke. Rong Qingyao’s face was the epitome of someone incapable of love; how could she possibly have a lover?

“Enough. Get out, I’m going to sleep,” Rong Qingyao issued her final dismissal, turning to open a bottle of rum from the liquor cabinet. She didn’t bother mixing it, downing several straight gulps.

“Still relying on hard liquor to sleep? Those pills the doctor prescribed clearly aren’t working. I told you broaden your horizons, get more outdoor exercise, relax your mind, and you’ll sleep naturally.”

Unable to endure Scott’s chatter any longer, Rong Qingyao grabbed the bottle and headed upstairs, leaving behind an icy silhouette.

“Workaholics are terrifying. I’m really leaving now off to the bar to take plenty of photos and piss Mike off so badly he’ll come elope with me immediately.”

Lately, he’d been quarreling with his younger boyfriend, who refused to change his chosen fake marriage partner despite Scott’s dissatisfaction, leading to an ongoing standoff.

Rong Qingyao paused mid-step, suddenly turning back with a chilling tone: “How can you be so sure Mike would elope with you?”

“Of course he would, he loves me too much to let me go.”

Watching Scott’s brimming confidence, a hollow ache flashed through Rong Qingyao’s heart.

Once, she too had been equally certain that the person she loved loved her just as steadfastly. So she’d staked everything without hesitation, only to suffer crushing defeat.

“Oh, you know Mike’s a doctor, right? During his exchange at another hospital, he heard Madam Cen’s mental state is deteriorating further. Aren’t you going to sue her? Doctors can certify she was lucid during the attack.”

Rong Qingyao tilted her head slightly, her profile wearing an inscrutable half-smile. “Keeping her around yields greater benefits, doesn’t it?”

Scott pondered deeply, tallying the advantages Rong Qingyao had reaped over the years. It was indeed the smarter play.

Yet her ruthless pragmatism, even treating herself as a bargaining chip, sent chills down his spine.

“I’m off to the bar with Jin Huai. How did you two, with such opposite personalities, even become friends in school?”

“Remember to send me the footage.”

“Riddle’s?” Seeing Rong Qingyao nod, Scott’s imagination ran wild, conjuring up forbidden scenarios of forced love and sugar daddy arrangements. “Got it, sending it right away.”

Back in her bedroom, waiting for the alcohol to take effect, Rong Qingyao opened the video.

In the dim bar lights, a silver-haired girl donned a black fisherman’s hat, her pure black butterfly ear cuff seeming ready to take flight.

Luo Mijin wore a high-necked biker jacket, her sharp chin tucked into the collar.

The brim of the fisherman’s hat barely blocked the light, casting a lazy shadow over her that made her appear both docile and listless.

The photographer’s hand was steady clearly here specifically to capture Luo Mijin, as the lens focused almost exclusively on her and the golden drum set.

Soon, the band’s keyboardist kicked off the performance, the lead singer began a soft croon, and Luo Mijin, seated in the farthest corner, ignited the crowd with a smooth, mesmerizing drum solo.

Rong Qingyao could distinctly hear the audience’s cheers erupting around her.

That unassuming person always ended up becoming the center of attention against their will.

Whether willing or not.

In the dark bedroom, Rong Qingyao turned on the desk lamp, sat up, and gulped down several mouthfuls of strong liquor, trying to drown the bitterness in her heart with dizziness.

The woman frowned slightly, her pale face and crimson lips glistening with alcohol, the surreal hues accentuating an exquisite, sickly beauty.

She treated the audience below as if they were invisible, her absent-minded, indifferent demeanor both cool and striking.

Through the screen, Rong Qingyao seemed to transcend time, returning to that midsummer day in a cramped warehouse where Luo Mijin played the drums, the two of them waiting for that fateful exchange of glances.

After replaying the footage several times, she turned off her phone, held her breath for a few seconds, then pulled out an old, long-defunct gaming console, hugging it tightly as she tried to fall asleep.

The alcohol must have taken effect at some point, knocking her out until she woke up in the dead of night.

**

After a night of heavy snowfall, the steel city transformed into a three-tiered cake piled high with cream.

At the movie premiere, Rong Qingyao stood poised and radiant among the cast, every smile and glance exuding a cold, breathtaking beauty that stirred hearts.

Bai Jinhuai, both Rong Qingyao’s friend and the film’s investor, sat in the audience observing the event.

Watching Rong Qingyao interact with fans with an empty smile, she couldn’t help but think of eight words that perfectly described cold fluorescent light:

“Bright yet indifferent, dazzling yet warmthless.”

This woman gave off the impression of winter sunlight seemingly warm, yet leaving one chilled to the bone.

As soon as the premiere ended, Rong Qingyao returned to her high-tech office to review documents, her silver-rimmed glasses amplifying her icy, intellectual aura, her immaculate gray turtleneck pristine.

She hadn’t slept well these past few days. Without makeup, her delicate features appeared even more striking, but her complexion was pallid, making her look fragile and vulnerable.

“Seriously, I heard you went straight back to workaholic mode after wrapping up filming?” Bai Jinhuai barged into the office, eyeing the woman in silver-framed glasses with exasperation. “If your fans found out, they’d riot and blame the studio for exploiting you.”

“There’s just too much backlogged work to ignore,” Rong Qingyao removed her glasses and rubbed her temples. “My fans are well-behaved. They won’t make a fuss.”

“The companies you invested in are all thriving, and even the hotel business your cheap dad dumped on you is growing year after year. Cut yourself some slack.”

“Though I don’t get why you insisted on funding that AI lab. Too many people are in that field now without a breakthrough, it’s not profitable.”

“It won’t die,” Rong Qingyao looked up from her files, adjusting her glasses coolly. “I saw her.”

“Who?” Bai Jinhuai sat down carelessly, about to pour herself a glass of whiskey on the rocks, when she nearly dropped the bottle in shock. “That first love of yours who almost ruined your education?”

Back then, Rong Qingyao had planned to stay in the country for grad school and work. With a 4.0 GPA, she was guaranteed a spot in her university’s master’s program until she was “unexpectedly” bumped off the list.

Job applications yielded few decent offers, leaving her no choice but to go abroad.

When she landed, she had only two hundred dollars to her name.

“Yeah.”

“What happened? She actually showed up in front of you?”

“It was my initiative,” Rong Qingyao reflected, realizing her scheming had been more akin to self-inflicted torment.

Bai Jinhui took a sip of wine to steady herself, unsurprised. “So, how does she feel about you? Lingering affection, or has she moved on completely?”

Unexpectedly, after a long pause, Rong Qingyao rested her chin on her hand and sighed with a faint smile. “I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

She couldn’t see through her.

“If you can’t tell, then stop trying. You’re getting engaged soon anyway,” Bai Jinhui teased cautiously.

Rong Qingyao set down her pen, the metallic chain of her silver-framed glasses clinking softly. She stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing down at the bustling traffic below.

“You know as well as I do that the engagement is just a business strategy, a partnership, nothing more.”

“Hey, don’t take this the wrong way, but after all these years, you still can’t let go?” Bai Jinhui sensed something amiss.

She and Rong Qingyao had been classmates in graduate school, witnessing firsthand how Rong Qingyao clawed her way out of despair and desolation. Back then, Rong Qingyao couldn’t sleep night after night, relying on medication to force herself into oblivion.

Bai Jinhui had once tried that medication, it felt like her body had been forcibly shut down, a machine unplugged. Her body rested, but her spirit remained exhausted, barely clinging to life.

Logically, time should have healed the wounds, or at least allowed them to scab over. So why did it feel like Rong Qingyao’s wounds were still bleeding?

“It’s not that I can’t let go.” Rong Qingyao closed her eyes, her voice strained. “I just don’t understand. I don’t understand how she can act like nothing ever happened between us.”

She couldn’t fathom how Luo Mijin could remain so cruelly indifferent.

She couldn’t fathom whether Luo Mijin had ever truly loved her.

She couldn’t fathom how someone once so passionate could turn so cold overnight.

“I get it. You’ve been waiting in the crowd all this time, hoping she’d come back, it’s an obsession,” Bai Jinhui walked over and patted her shoulder sympathetically. “But you’ve barely met anyone else. Is she really the only one you can love?”

Rong Qingyao lowered her gaze, silent.

With a long sigh, Bai Jinhui spoke earnestly:

“Think about it, nothing in this world lasts forever. Even gods fall from grace, let alone the feelings of ordinary people. You can’t stay trapped in the past, clinging to those memories for the rest of your life.”

“And it’s been seven years not seven days. She hasn’t reached out to you once. You should have forgotten her completely by now. There are plenty of fish in the sea, Qingyao. Move on.”

Seeing Rong Qingyao’s stubborn resistance, Bai Jinhui brought up the one thing she cared about most her work.

“Not to mention, your projects are at critical stages right now. You need to be there for investor meetings and roadshows, those are years of hard work. She nearly ruined your life once. Are you really going to let her affect you a second time?”

“I know what I’m doing when it comes to work. Don’t worry.”

Bai Jinhui couldn’t help but feel uneasy. On the surface, Rong Qingyao appeared as serene and detached as a jade Guanyin, but beneath that calm exterior lay an unyielding stubbornness. If she wanted something, she’d stop at nothing to get it.

“Most rekindled romances just repeat the same mistakes.”

The words hung in the air like an ominous prophecy. Rong Qingyao’s brow furrowed, a visceral reaction to having the truth laid bare.

Bai Jinhui was right, she knew better than anyone that seven years had changed everything. She had long lost any claim to that person.

Now, more than ever, she struggled to believe in love’s permanence. Yet the moment she crossed paths with Luo Mijin again, her convictions and her heart began to waver.

She worried Luo Mijin was doing too well, yet ached at the thought of her suffering.

“If only it were that simple.”

Bai Jinhui wore an exasperated expression, grinding her teeth as she said:

“Then throw away everything related to her! Break those habits stop clutching that ridiculous gaming console all night, losing sleep over it. Erase her completely from your life.”

“Fine, I’ll buy you a new console tomorrow. We’ll pick one out together, just stop obsessing over that outdated thing.”

Her impassioned speech even made the potted plant beside her tremble.

After a long silence, Rong Qingyao turned away. “Jinhuai, you don’t understand. She hid herself too well.”

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the clouds were pale and faint. An emotion lingered in the air, deceptively light yet suffocating, like water slowly drowning a person.

Bai Jinhui rolled her eyes. She truly couldn’t comprehend these romantic entanglements.

Though she’d never been in love herself, she believed in cutting through the chaos just march up and ask if the other person still liked you, if they wanted to be together. Wasn’t that simple?

Why all this endless hesitation?

She didn’t yet understand why love made people cowardly, why no one escaped its torment.

Perhaps true empathy between people didn’t exist. Even facing the same situation, everyone felt it differently.

“What do you mean, she hid too well? Tell me what she looks like, where she’s hiding, I’ll drag her out myself. Settle this once and for all so you can move on.”

Rong Qingyao only smiled, offering no answer.

The best hiding place for someone was in another’s heart.

To sever ties with that person would be to sever a part of herself.

That person had once promised to be there whenever she was needed.

Though the promise had been broken, she couldn’t stop believing.

“Seven years, Qingya. Anyone else would’ve moved on by now. Yet here you are, still like a madwoman.” Bai Jinhui found “madwoman” an apt description.

Who else would lose sleep copying dialogues from a gaming console over and over, consumed by obsession?

And when that outdated console finally broke, Rong Qingyao had scoured the entire city for replacement parts, only to return empty-handed.

Years later, she invested in the company that made it, spending a fortune to restart production.

After finally replacing the parts, the data inside was corrupted, all records lost.

All that effort, for nothing.

Given Rong Qingya’s quiet, relentless madness, Bai Jinhui wouldn’t be surprised by anything she did next.

“Seriously, was this first love of yours impossibly beautiful? Is that why you can’t forget her? Otherwise, she wouldn’t even match up to you.” Bai Jinhui leaned on the desk, propping her chin. “Show me a photo of you two. After all these years, you’re still keeping her hidden?”

Rong Qingya: “We never took one.”

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