A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 27.2

“I’m fine with anything. You choose.”

A biting wind stirred the snowflakes clinging to the tree leaves. Luo Mijin tilted her head upward for a moment, hoping the cold breeze might dispel the ache in her eyes.

For now, they set aside this interlude and walked together toward the cinema.

“Wait, earlier… that person mentioned you were hurt?” Lan Mingyu silently cursed her own carelessness, she’d been so distracted by their past relationship that she’d forgotten everything else.

“It’s nothing, just a small cut. I’ve already disinfected it,” Luo Mijin glanced at the bandage on her finger, where the bow was slightly tilted to the left, a little habit of Rong Qingyao’s.

That clean, soft scent of snow still seemed to linger around her.

“Did Miss Rong bandage this for you?” Lan Mingyu eyed the bow-tied bandage on Luo Mijin’s hand, finding it somewhat irritating but too polite to say so.

“Mhm.”

“Her hands are quite skilled.”

Luo Mijin lowered her head, her lips curving faintly as if recalling something from long ago.

“Yeah, she picks things up quickly.” Luo Mijin thought of Rong Qingyao making sour plum drinks, sewing quilts, taking care of someone as hopelessly inept at daily life as herself.

“Could she play the drums too?”

The dimple on Luo Mijin’s cheek appeared as she smiled, shaking her head gently. “No, that was the one thing she couldn’t do. No matter how hard she tried, she never got the hang of it.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Luo Mijin’s smile widened, “talent just wasn’t on her side. Tone-deaf.”

They ended up choosing an action film at the cinema. The special effects were impressive, and the theater’s sound system and projection were excellent, yet Luo Mijin couldn’t focus on the movie at all.

Her mind kept wandering. She and Rong Qingyao had never gone to the movies together, they’d been too short on money. They’d never ridden roller coasters at an amusement park, never shared a romantic candlelit dinner at a restaurant.

There were too many regrets to count, even if she spent all night listing them.

After the movie, they took a cab home. As Luo Mijin opened her phone in the passenger seat, two trending notifications popped up, both marked with “explosive” tags.

#Rong Qingyao’s Aesthetic Vibe#

#Rong Qingyao’s Engagement#

Someone had captured a photo of her and Rong Qingyao holding hands as they ran forward their silhouettes blurred in the hazy light, their hair strands almost but not quite touching. In the background, a shop window displayed a glowing Christmas tree adorned with countless fairy lights, stars, and bells, its radiance shimmering like flowing colors.

It looked just like the fleeting moments they’d once shared.

Yet this seemingly romantic snowscape and the woman’s engagement photo were now placed side by side, like scenes from some masterfully ironic film.

The comments below had already reached the thousands.

[Gotta admit, that person and Qingyao look so aesthetically perfect together. The passerby who took this shot really nailed it. Too bad we can’t see the other person’s face.]

[Wow, I’ve already imagined a whole dramatic soap opera, a wealthy family forcing an arranged marriage, the beautiful older sister boldly eloping, fleeing down the street with her lover.]

[Don’t talk nonsense, Qingyao and her fiancé have always been good friends. There’s no such thing as coercion, it’s most likely love that grew over time. If you don’t believe me, look at these photos of them traveling together [image][image].]

[It really does seem like Qingyao and her fiancé have some genuine feelings. Wishing them happiness! I just hope our goddess acts in more films, I want to see her new movie.]

Noticing Luo Mijin’s strange expression, Lan Mingyu glanced at her while stopping at a red light. “What’s wrong? Did you get bad news on your phone?”

“No, it’s good news.”

“Good news? Then why do you look so upset?”

Luo Mijin turned off her phone screen, suppressing her turbulent emotions. “Maybe it’s a sign of low blood sugar.”

“Let’s hurry back then. Do you have any candy or chocolate with you?”

“I do.” Luo Mijin unwrapped a Mint Candy, but her taste buds only registered bitterness.

As the streetlights flickered outside, Lan Mingyu caught a glimpse of something shining in Luo Mijin’s bag and asked curiously, “What’s in your bag?”

“Just two pieces of acrylic plastic stuck together.” Luo Mijin glanced at the unique snowflake pressed between the plastic sheets and quickly zipped her bag shut.

Lan Mingyu didn’t quite understand. “Why haven’t you thrown it away?”

“I forgot.”

**

“Haha, what do you think? The timing of my engagement announcement was perfect, right? It completely overshadowed that gossip about being photographed on the street.”

Scott’s voice on the phone was brimming with excitement, clearly still riding the high from his recent wingsuit flight.

“Mm, it’s great.” Rong Qingyao spun a small teacup between her fingers, responding indifferently.

“Hey, you’re really hard to please, you know? One minute you’re up, the next you’re down. I moved up the engagement date as you asked and leaked the news. Now both our companies’ stocks are rising, your acquisitions and financing are going smoother and you’re still not happy?”

“I’m not unhappy,” Rong Qingyao swirled the teacup, her long, pale legs visible beneath her robe, the faint blue veins at her ankles just discernible. “You’re overthinking it.”

“Liar, I can tell you’re upset,” Scott mumbled through a mouthful of buttered bread roll. “Honestly, I don’t know what could ever make you genuinely smile. Probably harder than climbing to heaven.”

“You’re exaggerating. I’m not unhappy.”

Rong Qingyao didn’t understand what was wrong with her. She should hate Luo Mijin.

Hate her for vanishing without a trace, hate her for possibly having a new lover now, hate her for remaining indifferent.

Yet the image of Luo Mijin crouched helplessly at the crossroads, utterly broken, lingered relentlessly in her mind. On the rare nights she managed to sleep, Luo Mijin appeared in her dreams on that same street.

Sometimes close, sometimes far, but always the same, Luo Mijin never once looked up at her.

When she woke, the emptiness and melancholy inside her only deepened. Ten years, twenty years, perhaps even longer, Luo Mijin might never turn back to look at her again.

“You’re such a hypocrite. Got time today? Wanna hang out?” Scott put down his fork and knife, glancing at his phone before adding, “Even Jinhuai, the ever-busy one, is coming. Won’t you do us the honor?”

“No, you guys have fun. Enjoy yourselves.”

“You might as well become a monk chant scriptures, knock on wooden fish, and live out your remaining days in peace.” Scott was truly at his wit’s end with Rong Qingyao, so he laid it out plainly, “Riddle’s performing today at Tinkle Tea, that other bar with strict real-name registration and good privacy. Didn’t you say you wanted to check out his skills? Today’s your chance.”

Three seconds of silence passed on the other end of the line before Rong Qingyao spoke: “Time.”

“Two hours later,” Scott grinned triumphantly, convinced he could use Riddle to drag Rong Qingyao down from her pristine, untouchable heights into the mundane world.

**

Two hours later, at Tingkle Tea Bar.

Bai Jinhuai pushed open the door of the private room on the second floor, panting heavily. She tossed her handbag aside, plopped down unceremoniously, and took a big swig from the drink on the table.

“Starving and parched, debugging programs in the server room today nearly killed me. At least you guys have some conscience this time and remembered to invite me.”

She glanced at Rong Qingyao and noticed the woman was still dressed in muted tones, a gray-brown cardigan over a plain dress, her hair loose with one side tucked behind her ear, exuding an absentminded sort of laziness.

In the six or seven years they’d known each other, Bai Jinhuai had never seen Rong Qingyao adorn herself in bright, dazzling colors.

Her entire being was a study in understated simplicity, yet effortlessly beautiful.

Seeing Bai Jinhuai shoving food into her mouth hastily, Rong Qingyao slid her plate of bread over and handed her a napkin.

“Eat slower. Don’t choke.”

Touched by Rong Qingyao’s measured concern, Bai Jinhuai turned her head away and snorted, deliberately teasing:

“Well, well, the sun must be rising from the west today. Our prim and proper beauty Rong actually came to a bar to waste time? What a rare guest.”

Scott shook the dice smugly beside them. “Jinhuai, I was the one who got her here. See how capable I am?”

“Please, as if,” Bai Jinhuai scoffed, clearly unconvinced. “Qingyao, tell me, what’s got you in the mood for a place like this today? Finally feeling mortal?”

The woman leaned back gracefully in the cigar chair, disinterested, unwilling to join their conversation.

“Hey, Jinhuai, if you sell me that vintage sports car you auctioned off, I’ll tell you why,” Scott whispered, seizing the moment after Bai Jinhuai’s failed attempt, careful to keep his voice low.

“Keep your secrets. Do I look like someone who cares about gossip?” Bai Jinhuai brushed him off, but seeing Rong Qingyao’s visibly troubled yet forcibly composed expression, she didn’t need to guess who was behind it.

Scott was racking his brain for another way to swindle the car when Bai Jinhuai’s voice drifted eerily close to his ear:

“There’s someone here Qingyao wants to see?”

“What? How’d you know?” Scott blurted, then winced at his slip. “Looks like you know more than I do.”

Bai Jinhuai sighed inwardly. “Just as I thought.”

To her, Rong Qingyao was the epitome of cool intellect wearing a mask of warmth and friendliness in social settings, but otherwise detached and indifferent, caring little for others or even herself.

Yet this same person was fiercely ambitious, with an unyielding determination to reach the top, never settling for less.

The only exception was probably that one person, the sole instance Bai Jinhuai had ever seen Rong Qingyao display any softness.

As the performance was about to begin, a waiter in a crisp uniform brought their food on a silver platter, bowing before leaving just as the DJ downstairs started hyping up the crowd.

Scott had ordered seafood. When the silver lid was lifted, the sea bass inside released an intoxicating aroma, accompanied by sides of pan-seared white asparagus and cheesy mashed potatoes, topped with a crisp, toasted sage leaf.

The band members had already taken their positions on stage, and Rong Qingyao spotted Luo Mijin at first glance.

Even in such a neon-lit, decadent place, the girl’s eyes remained clear and bright.

They evoked countless beautiful, refreshing images starlight, moonbeams, snow-kissed streams, the halo on blades of grass.

The first strike of the drumsticks seemed to set the tone for the entire song a clean, reckless bassline, powerful, precise, impossible to ignore, perfectly controlling the rhythm of the entire performance.

During the song’s interlude, a steady stream of people came on stage, presenting single-stemmed roses to each member of the band.

“What’s going on?” Bai Jinhuai speared a piece of honeydew melon with his fork.

“Adding flower tributes, a rich person’s game. One rose represents a thousand-yuan tip, one lily of the valley means ten thousand, and some flowers are even more expensive. Reach a certain amount, and you get some alone time with that person.”

“Alone time as in…?” Bai Jinhuai clicked his tongue. “Didn’t expect this place to be running a side hustle.”

“Don’t say that. Though it is alone time, it’s very proper. Unless the person is willing, no amount of money can force anything.”

“And are there people who aren’t willing?” Bai Jinhuai couldn’t help but press.

“Of course, but they’re rare. Who knows how many resident singers from this bar have been whisked away by wealthy ladies,” Scott said, casting a sidelong glance at Rong Qingyao. “In a members-only bar like ours, more or less… Well, who wouldn’t like a wealthy, attractive older sister?”

The pile of single-stemmed roses near Luo Mijin was already growing. Rong Qingyao took a sip of her tequila sunrise, her restlessness deepening.

Pushing the roses aside, Luo Mijin lowered her head, immersing herself wholly in the music. A faint smile touched her lips, the dimple at the corner fleeting.

Today’s drum set was designed in a Morandi-inspired green gradient, evoking the misty depths of an icy forest, hazy, low-saturation, and incredibly soothing to the eye.

Under the bar’s flickering lights, Luo Mijin’s heart raced when she thought she caught a glimpse of Rong Qingyao in the crowd.

The woman seemed bathed in a soft glow amidst the dim light, leaving Luo Mijin desperate to confirm whether it was an illusion or reality.

Luo Mijin stood from her seat, trying to get a clearer look, but the shifting crowd and interplay of light and shadow made the vision vanish.

She lowered her eyes, silently mocking herself for still clinging to the past.

The audience, fueled by alcohol, grew increasingly enthusiastic. Bottle after bottle of expensive liquor was sent to the guests’ tables, tonight’s revenue was likely to hit another record.

After the performance, the band members retreated backstage to rest. Scott sidled up to Rong Qingyao, eager to boast.

“See? Didn’t I tell you Riddle’s live performance is stunning? Even though their lead singer and guitarist are great, you just can’t take your eyes off the drummer.”

“Yeah, it’s like she sets the tone with a single strike,” Bai Jinhuai added.

Rong Qingyao lowered her gaze slightly, her long, dark lashes veiling the unreadable glint in her eyes.

“Qingyao, you asked me about Riddle before, right? I just remembered, someone usually comes to pick her up after shows,” Scott blurted out, oblivious. “I saw it once from afar. It’s a girl, quite pretty, and she seemed very close with Riddle.”

Under the moonlight of the snowy night, the woman unconsciously furrowed her brows, exuding an untouchable pallor and ethereality.

She naturally knew Scott was referring to Lan Mingyu. As expected, no matter where she went, she would hear news of Lan Mingyu and Luo Mijin being inseparable.

“You just said we could send flowers to the band members?”

“Yeah, why?” Scott’s eyes widened instantly. “Qing, don’t scare me, you’re not planning to hook up with him, are you?”

Rong Qingyao ignored him and turned to Bai Jinhuai instead:

“Jinhuai, help me send seven lily-of-the-valley stems to that drummer, Riddle.”

“In your name?” Bai Jinhuai’s expression had already turned serious.

Rong Qingyao removed her silver-rimmed glasses, folded the temples neatly, and replied with a seemingly indifferent “Mm.”

“What’s this about? Trying to force him into being your sugar baby?”

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