A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 29.1

“After the engagement, the wedding should follow soon, right? Then let me also wish you a happy marriage in advance.”

Luo Mijin mechanically uttered the words, not as if she were speaking to someone over the phone, but more like an ascetic carving an epitaph, a warning to herself not to entertain foolish hopes.

Opening her eyes again in the darkness, the hopeless light in her pupils was even thicker than the pitch-black night.

She knew she had no right to resent Rong Qingyao, nor any standing to demand that Rong Qingyao call off the engagement. Yet the hidden pain in her heart refused to stay buried.

Moonlight broke through the clouds, and Luo Mijin caught sight of the scar on her left wrist. It only strengthened her resolve she could not let her selfish desires stop Rong Qingyao from moving toward a better person, a better life.

Besides, besides… Luo Mijin herself was no longer that important to Rong Qingyao.

She couldn’t stop it. And even if she tried, she wouldn’t succeed.

Rong Qingyao felt a sudden ringing in her ears, her palms turning faintly cold.

She forced a laugh. It was easier to feign composure over the phone. “Isn’t it too early for congratulations?”

“No. I’ll even prepare a gift for the engagement party,” Luo Mijin paused, realizing she was finally about to speak a sincere truth, “because I genuinely hope for your happiness.”

“Genuinely hope for my happiness?” Rong Qingyao instinctively repeated the last phrase, unsure whether to believe it or dismiss it with a laugh.

At the very least, she had genuinely believed it once, when facing Luo Mijin’s grandfather, she had even resolved to stake everything to defy the so-called authority of the wealthy and powerful.

She had never given up. During the week when she couldn’t reach Luo Mijin, she had imagined all the ways Luo Mijin’s grandfather might obstruct them. They might not see each other for a long, long time. Luo Mijin might be sent away. She might never get another chance to see Luo Mijin in this lifetime.

But she would keep searching for Luo Mijin, keep striving to become worthy of her, keep working to give her a beautiful future.

Even if they couldn’t meet, it wouldn’t matter.

Until she finally saw Luo Mijin again and heard her say those words: “Let’s break up.”

She had demanded to know why, desperately pressing for an answer. How could she ever believe that Luo Mijin had stopped loving her?

Every minute, every second, she had been certain that Luo Mijin loved her, just as she loved Luo Mijin.

Until reality slapped her without warning. Luo Mijin’s grandfather told her that Luo Mijin had agreed to marry that blind date with the surname Yuan after graduating from university.

He had even shown her the engagement invitation.

The past was too painful to revisit. Perhaps her unwavering faith in that love had eroded day by day until nothing remained.

Rong Qingyao turned her head to look at the beech tree outside the bar window, its shadow inky black against the drifting snowflakes.

For a moment, she felt a self-destructive urge to lay everything bare, to tell this person that she still missed her, still loved her.

She was at her wit’s end, unable to endure it any longer. Around Luo Mijin, she became like a firework highly flammable, ready to explode. If she didn’t bloom brilliantly for this person, she would only grow damp and moldy in obscurity.

In Luo Mijin’s presence, her pride, her love, her wealth, her reputation everything that glittered so brightly in others’ eyes, meant nothing.

This person had witnessed her darkest, most destitute moments. She had been abandoned by this person. Her defenses, her armor, none of it worked against Luo Mijin. It was all laid bare, ineffective.

All that remained was a pitiful shred of dignity.

Did she even dare to stake that last bit of pride?

Before Luo Mijin, she wasn’t some accomplished success story, just that college student torn between pride and insecurity.

Stepping out alone from the bar into the snow-filled night, Rong Qingyao tilted her head skyward, imagining herself transported back to that day when she and Luo Mijin had driven thousands of kilometers, nearly freezing to death just to glimpse the Aurora.

She was recalling the moment she’d resolved to confess her feelings to Luo Mijin.

Borrowing what little courage remained.

“Luo Mijin, actually I haven’t—”

A woman’s voice on the other end of the line dissolved her borrowed bravery mid-sentence.

“Luoluo, the cake’s ready! Come try it, I used the strawberries we planted last year. It should be really sweet this time.”

The intimate sweetness in those words laid bare that Luo Mijin had already begun anew with someone else.

Rong Qingyao surfaced as if from icy waters, cheeks faintly flushed, eyes damp pierced through by the sharp blade of sober resentment from head to toe.

She’d nearly played the fool again. Nearly offered up a heart destined to be trampled and shattered.

In her life, she’d never truly believed in anything lasting everything proved unreliable, everything faded like dreams and bubbles.

The one thing she’d never doubted was their love.

That reckless, all-in pursuit of love belonging to her to Rong Qingyao, might only happen once in a lifetime.

This was her predetermined fate: both romantic and tragic.

“Okay, Mingyu, I’ll be right there. Just let me change,” Luo Mijin forced a light, natural tone, fooling even her own crumbling interior that all was well.

“Rong Qingyao, you haven’t what?” Dazedly, she thought she’d heard Rong Qingyao say something and pressed for clarification.

“Nothing. Thank you for your blessings,” Rong Qingyao laughed softly on the other end, her voice gentle. “By the way, when I have time, I’d like to visit Zhiwen. You’d allow that, right?”

“Of course. You and my little sister are practically friends.” Luo Mijin lifted her face, letting the winter wind assault her burning eyes.

“That summer we met, I promised her a complete Doraemon figurine set. I’ve collected them all now, perfect timing to deliver.” Rong Qingyao gazed at the bright moon, suppressing the sting in her eyes.

Memories surged forth, catching Luo Mijin off guard.

Their past happiness had grown barbs over the years, now every mention left them both lacerated.

Her breath trembled; she nearly couldn’t stop herself from demanding why Rong Qingyao kept dredging up the past when they clearly had no future.

Was this some kind of game?

“Zhiwen loves Doraemon so much, she’ll be thrilled.”

“And you? Is there anything you’d like? That Shaun the Sheep character would you want that?”

The familiar cajoling tone made Luo Mijin hallucinate for one second that she was still waiting in their old apartment for Rong Qingyao to come home from work.

“No. Nothing. Don’t trouble yourself.”

“Alright then. I’ll hang up.”

“Mhm.”

“Wait!” Rong Qingyao hesitated again, fingers trembling beyond her control.

“What?”

Clenching her lips, Rong Qingyao asked:

“That year… didn’t your grandfather say you’d marry that person after graduation? Why… why didn’t you?”

Luo Mijin covered her face with a bitter smile, uncertain whether to classify this as yet another misunderstanding between them.

Perhaps it could only be considered idle chatter, because there was no need to unravel it anymore.

Some things weren’t wrong they were just over, gone.

“I didn’t graduate from university, so of course I wouldn’t get married.”

“I don’t understand. Did something happen in your family?”

To escape, Rong Qingyao had never dared to investigate the Luo family’s affairs during the long wait. Besides, given the Luo family’s influence, digging into their matters wouldn’t have been easy.

“You could say so. The higher you stand, the harder you fall, it’s normal for a family like the Luos. The fickleness of human relationships… you should understand that better than I do.”

Then why didn’t you come to me?

Rong Qingyao swallowed those words that would have stripped her of her dignity and instead smiled politely.

She hung up the phone like a friend Luo Mijin had kept at arm’s length.

“Mhm, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The call ended quickly. Luo Mijin didn’t turn on the lights in her room, sitting there emptily before suddenly laughing without warning her eyes red, her smile bright, eerie, and pale, both terrifying and pitiful.

She had simply realized: someone who had already moved on and found new love naturally wouldn’t care whether they talked about the past or the future. Only those clinging to the past would remain haunted by it.

For Rong Qingyao, it might have just been casual conversation, a few embellishments added to her past life for the sake of the present.

But for Luo Mijin, it was laying bricks for the long, deep-seated pain to come.

“Luoluo, why aren’t you out yet?” Lan Mingyu knocked on the door again, seemingly puzzled as to why the person who usually came out at the first call was acting unusual again today.

Luo Mijin forcibly swallowed all her emotions and answered steadily, “I’ll be right out. It took me a while to find my clothes.”

She went into the bathroom and washed away the traces on her cheeks and the corners of her eyes with cold water, making sure her eyes didn’t look so red.

Five minutes later, she changed into a white loungewear and walked into the living room. Lan Mingyu was sitting on the sofa reviewing the café’s menu while an American drama played on the TV.

“Luoluo, why did that call take so long? Is everything okay?”

“Sorry, I was discussing some demo-related issues with my employer.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Lan Mingyu lowered her head, scribbling with a pencil. “Luoluo, do you think our café should sell coffee beans under the same brand?”

“If you’re asking me, it means you really want to do it,” Luo Mijin spoke slowly, her tone deliberate and thoughtful.

“You know me so well.” Lan Mingyu sighed in frustration, leaning back against the sofa. “But choosing coffee beans is such a hassle, you have to inspect the climate and quality in person, not to mention costs, sales permits, and all that.”

Luo Mijin clasped her hands together and offered appropriate encouragement. “If you want to do it, I’m sure you’ll do it well.”

“Ah, Luoluo, you’re the best. Wait, why are your eyes so red? Did you… cry?” Lan Mingyu sounded uncertain. In less than half an hour, how could Luo Mijin’s emotions have fluctuated so much?

Caught off guard, a flicker of panic crossed Luo Mijin’s heart, but she didn’t even need to fabricate a lie, it slipped out effortlessly.

“Nothing like that. I got water in my eyes while washing my face earlier, and it took me forever to get it out. I’m just clumsy.”

“Ah, be more careful.” Lan Mingyu patted Luo Mijin’s shoulder, unsurprised that she could do something so silly. Ever since they’d met, this girl’s ability to take care of herself had been appalling.

“Mhm.” Luo Mijin curved her lips into a smile.

“I’ll go get the cake, wait a moment.” Lan Mingyu set down the café menu and happily hurried to the kitchen to fetch the cake.

Luo Mijin, who had maintained a gentle smile all along, turned expressionless the moment Lan Mingyu turned her back.

Laughing bitterly at her deceitful self in her heart, her self-loathing surged uncontrollably. She had already become the kind of adult she once despised the most.

Lies, worldliness, silence, deception, how had it come to this? How had she turned into such a person?

Why was it like this?

Why had everything she cherished become unrecognizable?

Would it have been better if everything had ended seven years ago?

Lowering her head to let her long hair obscure her face, Luo Mijin struggled against the self-hatred and destructive urges within her, forcing herself to suppress the nausea and disgust.

She couldn’t escape so easily. Her younger sister Zhiwen needed her, and Lan Mingyu had always been a supportive friend.

And then there was Rong Qingyao.

Luo Mijin remembered that Rong Qingyao’s mother had died by suicide.

Tragic yet comforting, even now, her strength still came from Rong Qingyao and that might never change.

Meanwhile, Lan Mingyu carefully carried the cake out from the kitchen and placed it on the table covered with a cartoon duckling tablecloth.

The cake had a clean, minimalist design, a white spherical planet covered in rose fields.

On one side lay a few small animal-shaped pieces of dark chocolate, their rich aroma mingling with the scent of cream.

Carefully cutting a slice and handing it to Luo Mijin, Lan Mingyu asked eagerly, “Try it, is it good?”

Unable to speak, Luo Mijin hastily stuffed the cake into her mouth, desperate to taste its sweet, refreshing flavor.

But she failed. She couldn’t taste anything not the richness of the dairy cream, the freshness of the assorted fruits, nor the lemon-infused sponge cake.

Faced with Lan Mingyu’s hopeful gaze, she could only rely on her memory of flavors to evaluate it.

“The moisture is just right, and the red molten cheese inside is romantic, but it needs to be stored properly in the fridge.”

“Mhm, this is a new product we’re planning for Valentine’s Day. The main flavor is sweet and sour, but the focus is on the romantic design,” Lan Mingyu said with a satisfied smile. “Do you think we should add ice cream?”

“Do couples eat ice cream in winter?” A faint warmth rose in Luo Mijin’s eyes as she slipped into a brief memory. “It fits the romantic theme.”

“If you think it’s good, then I’ll add it to the draft menu and have the pastry chef refine it further.”

“Alright, I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight.” Luo Mijin glanced at the time, it was almost two in the morning.

Thinking about how Luo Mijin would be moving out in a couple of days, a pang of melancholy rose in Lan Mingyu’s chest. It had taken so much effort to persuade her to move in together for these four months after Luo Mijin’s rented place was slated for demolition.

Now they were back to square one. Maybe she couldn’t stay silent anymore whether it worked or not, she had to speak up.

“Yeah, I should sleep too. Goodnight.” As Lan Mingyu tidied up the cake and the table, she pondered how to voice her thoughts.

**

The bar was quieter in the late hours, the dimmed lights and mellow music tempering the frenzy on the dance floor.

After hanging up the phone, Rong Qingyao instinctively saved the string of numbers into her contacts.

Bai Jinhuai and Scott returned thoroughly drunk, immediately noticing Rong Qingyao’s dark and restrained demeanor.

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