A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 33.1

“Why? I’d like to hear your thoughts and opinions.”

Unexpectedly, Lan Mingyu didn’t immediately leave or change the subject to ease the awkwardness between them.

Her eyes were bright and clear, seemingly brimming with the courage to persist until she hit a wall.

This made Luo Mijin momentarily recall herself, the girl who once had the courage to follow Rong Qingyao everywhere.

Back then, they drove a beat-up car across thousands of kilometers of rugged roads. Perhaps Rong Qingyao’s confession had been too moving, making the past so beautiful that no one could turn back.

Lan Mingyu’s gaze was too bold and fearless, plunging Luo Mijin into sudden confusion.

How should she put it?

Her phone alarm went off, it was exactly 10:30 p.m. Since the doctor had advised her to drink more water, she had set three daily reminders.

When the alarm sounded, it meant she had to pour a full cup of water 500 milliliters from her thermos and drink it all.

Perhaps because her mind was unsettled, this time she forgot to mix in some cold water, leaving her holding a cup of scalding hot water.

The ordinary paper cup clung tightly to her palm, and within seconds, an intense, searing pain shot through her nerves. Yet she stubbornly refused to move, allowing the pain to linger.

In this dreadful silence, Luo Mijin forced her sluggish mind to think of an answer.

She owed her well-meaning friend a satisfactory response.

But she didn’t want to give this friend, who had helped her so much, any false hope.

Perhaps, like others, she could offer vague words and a gentle rejection to appear less cold-hearted. But she knew there was no possibility.

She was a pre-programmed robot her core logic dictated she would never fall in love with anyone else again.

“Because I’m difficult to get along with. Don’t let my age fool you, the number of people I truly know and am close to doesn’t even exceed ten, and that includes my family,” Luo Mijin smiled faintly, her dimples giving her a dazzling yet melancholic glow.

“But we get along just fine.”

“That’s just surface-level. You haven’t seen the real me,” Luo Mijin recalled distant memories her parents and grandfather. “You haven’t seen how I’ve ruined important occasions or how most of my relationships end badly.”

Even now, she remained stubbornly independent. During a school field trip in elementary school, while everyone admired the vibrant spring blossoms and singing birds, she alone saw dark, tumbling rocks within the lush mountains.

She told her classmates there were terrifying things rolling around inside, everyone thought she meant human heads, and all the children burst into tears.

Her family had considered sending her to a special school countless times, but they couldn’t bear the idea of the Luo family’s eldest daughter being “abnormal,” so they never went through with it.

Truthfully, Lan Mingyu didn’t know the real her, so this wasn’t genuine affection, just curiosity and fascination with the unknown.

Could you really love someone you knew nothing about?

It sounded impossible.

“But you can’t go on like this forever.” Lan Mingyu’s voice softened, yet her resolute tone remained unmistakable.

“How about me?” Luo Mijin couldn’t help but cough, “No matter how much I change, nothing will be different.”

“Is there still someone preventing you from moving forward and starting new relationships and life?” Lan Mingyu stared unblinkingly at Luo Mijin, less like a question and more like a soft sigh.

Luo Mijin couldn’t speak. Perhaps she knew this was wrong, harmful to herself, but she simply couldn’t stop.

It was as if she could smell the dry, pungent disinfectant in the hospital room again, the once vibrant roses on the bedside table in her hallucinations long withered and gone.

Finally, Lan Mingyu spoke those words, calmly stating the established fact, yet enough to depress Luo Mijin.

“But Rong Qingyao is already engaged. You saw it, didn’t you?”

Uncontrollably, an image surfaced in Luo Mijin’s mind.

A woman in a white wedding dress holding orange blossoms, walking down a flower-strewn red carpet, exchanging rings with someone else, beginning their life together.

She didn’t know was their brief encounter a blessing or a punishment?

“Yes, I saw it. Very clearly.”

“Then you…” Lan Mingyu recalled the day she had arranged to watch a movie with Luo Mijin, when Luo Mijin had stepped out of Rong Qingya’s car. Though she had tried to hide it, the traces of tears couldn’t completely disappear.

“No, I don’t want anything with her,” Luo Mijin’s voice turned unusually cold, her body posture subconsciously defensive.

“But ever since you reunited with her, you’ve become… more absent-minded, more unhappy,” Lan Mingyu was uncharacteristically blunt today, showing no signs of backing down. “You must have noticed it yourself.”

That person was like this to her, just thinking about her was enough. Even if she was almost no longer hers, as long as she remained in her memories, whether there would be a future didn’t matter.

Luo Mijin’s eyelids grew heavy, her voice strained. “I just want to take care of Zhiwen. Aside from work, I spend all my time with her.”

“And what about you? Where do you place yourself?”

“Me?” Luo Mijin looked down at her bony, pale hands and murmured, “I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong.”

Though there wasn’t anything particularly good either.

“Luoluo, you shouldn’t be like this. You’re still a patient yourself, how can you take care of another patient?”

“My illness will get better soon. I can take care of my sister.”

Lan Mingyu’s voice sounded utterly helpless. “Let me share this burden with you. I’m willing. Don’t push me away out of guilt or fear.”

Luo Mijin stared into Lan Mingyu’s sincere, fervent eyes and felt dazed. She remembered looking at someone else the same way once.

“You say I don’t understand you, but can you give me a chance to?”

“No, it’s not that,” Luo Mijin finished her now-lukewarm water, nervously twisting her fingers before suddenly meeting Lan Mingyu’s gaze with resolve. “Mingyu, there’s no possibility for us. No matter how much time passes, it won’t change. I can’t do it, I absolutely can’t, pretend to like you. Do you understand?”

Her light-colored eyes were filled with sorrow, yet her tone was unshakably firm.

“But… but Rong Qingyao is already engaged,” Lan Mingyu didn’t know why she was being so stubborn. Perhaps even if she couldn’t have Luo Mijin, she didn’t want Rong Qingyao, who was already engaged to keep provoking him.

“That’s her business, it has nothing to do with me,” Luo Mijin remained composed. “We had a failed relationship, but that doesn’t mean I have to pick myself up from where I fell.”

Rong Qingyao’s movement to stand up froze abruptly. She felt her heart pounding violently, a familiar ringing echoing in her ears.

By principle and high moral standards, she should leave immediately and not continue listening. Yet deep inside, another part of her, like a demon’s whisper, urged:

You should walk over gracefully and push Lan Mingyu aside.

Everyone should return to their rightful place, shouldn’t they?

But was there still a place for her in Luo Mijin’s heart?

Just then, Bai Jinhuai called, pulling her temporarily from her erratic emotions and allowing her to regain composure, even begin strategizing carefully.

Rong Qingyao put on her wireless earbuds, lingering silently on Luo Mijin for half a second before answering the call and quickly leaving the concert venue for the stairwell by the emergency exit.

“Qingyao, what are you up to? I can’t find your house keys. Come pick me up right now.”

She didn’t even need to ask, Bai Jinhuai was clearly drunk again. As her graduate school classmate at H University, Bai Jinhuai had often shown up at Rong Qingyao’s dorm after drinking, rambling about life ideals and love before staggering to the toilet to vomit.

Then he’d pass out wherever convenient.

“Call your driver or ask your assistant,” Rong Qingyao replied calmly, betraying none of the turmoil inside.

Bai Jinhuai whined, “Didn’t you ask me to find cardiology and neurology specialists? I’ve been entertaining relatives at home these days but finally managed to book two doctors specializing in comatose patients, one’s even a lead surgeon. Don’t I deserve a reward?”

“Fine, what do you want?”

“Tell me everything about you and that silver-haired dimpled beauty. I want to know exactly how she won you over, no omissions allowed.”

He had always been baffled. Someone as determined as Rong Qingyao, who chased ideals and status relentlessly, how could she go to such lengths for another person?

This woman who had never known familial warmth or witnessed true love, how could she be so devoted? What fueled such unwavering belief in love?

“She didn’t pursue me. I wanted to be with her,” Rong Qingyao’s voice softened, her narrow double eyelids glimmering with an inexplicable light.

Drunk as he was, Bai Jinhuai initially missed it. When realization struck, he nearly stumbled in shock.

Back in grad school at H University, even though Rong Qingyao focused solely on studies and work with no extra socializing, her suitors were countless.

After being discovered by a director and skyrocketing to fame with a hit movie, the number of admirers became absurd flowers arrived daily.

Yet she remained unmoved. Everyone said she had impossibly high standards perhaps only the moon in the sky could catch her eye. Those with darker hearts even cursed her to grow old alone.

“Qingyao, what’s so special about her? I admit she looks absolutely stunning playing the drums, full of charm, but there aren’t many people like her in the world though certainly not too few either,” Bai Jinhui pondered for a moment. “But if we formed a rock band for Luo Mijin to debut, it would definitely blow up.”

Rong Qingyao didn’t bother with unnecessary explanations, simply replying, “She’s just… good.”

“Did she fight for you? You know, like those angsty, youthful passion scenes in teen novels? I love those.”

Lost in a memory, Rong Qingyao smiled. “We didn’t win. She grabbed my hand and ran. It was pretty pathetic.”

“Awkward. But she doesn’t seem like the fighting type. So why her?” Bai Jinhui started whining. “If you don’t tell me today, I’ll camp at your place all night.”

“Because she promised to celebrate my birthday with me every year.”

The line went silent for two seconds. Bai Jinhui was stunned. “That’s it? Do you know how many people would kill to celebrate your birthday? Some of their ideas are so romantic even I’d be tempted.”

“I know.”

Bai Jinhui recalled a lyric: You’re not a silent sea, you just no longer surge for me.

But Rong Qingyao’s sea only surged for one person.

“I’ll be away on business these next few days. Buy all the furniture, daily essentials, gaming consoles, and computers I picked out and have them delivered to my place,” Rong Qingyao rattled off brands and specifications without hesitation, down to the thread count of the bedsheets. “Just deduct the cost from my card.”

“What, buying them for me? Finally showing some Buddha-like compassion for your poor, lonely friend?” Bai Jinhui teased in mock admiration. “You’re growing a heart. I’m so touched.”

“No.” Rong Qingyao cut straight to the point.

“Then upgrading your own life? But you’ve never cared about this stuff. You’d be fine sleeping under a thatched roof.”

“Don’t ask. Just follow the list I’ll send you and get everything delivered.” She paused. “And redecorate the color scheme. I don’t want a single spot looking like a hospital.”

“Your place is a bit sterile, but it’s not that bad.”

“Not even a hint.”

“Fine, fine. Which place?” Bai Jinhui flagged down a taxi and gave the driver Rong Qingyao’s usual address. “I’ll head over now.”

“All my properties.”

“Got it, Your Highness. Consider it done.” Bai Jinhui grinned. “Since I’m running around for you, at least tell me what this is about?”

“I’ll tell you when it’s done.”

Luo Mijin’s resistance still left Rong Qingyao hesitant. She had originally planned to help discreetly from the shadows, never revealing her involvement.

But Luo Mijin’s rejection of Lan Mingyu’s confession threw everything into chaos, stirring her already restless heart.

Those words could reassemble a heart reduced to ashes, let alone one that had never given up to begin with.

At this thought, Rong Qingyao lowered her eyes with a resigned smile, acknowledging that Madam Cen’s assessment of her and her mother held some truth.

Those who don’t know how to let go are doomed to a miserable end.

“One last question, Qingyao, why don’t you hate her?”

Rong Qingyao smiled silently, pausing before answering, “I wish I could.”

**

In the backstage lounge of the bar, the band members sprawled across armchairs, some tuning their instruments, others absentmindedly sipping the bartender’s latest vodka concoction.

Luo Mijin walked in wearing a plain black cloth mask, her untrimmed bangs slightly long, the fine, straight strands gleaming like satin under the dim lighting.

The moment she arrived, the guitarist and bassist perked up like excited puppies, bounding over to her.

“Riddle, are you feeling better? We heard you took leave, I was so worried you wouldn’t show.”

Unzipping her coat, Luo Mijin exhaled, her slender fingers typing out a message on her phone.

[I’m much better now, thanks for asking.]

“Even after all this time, you’re still so formal,” the bassist chuckled, patting her shoulder before handing her an unopened bottle of water. “Here, drink up. It’s clean, don’t worry.”

She accepted the bottle but set it aside, gesturing that she wasn’t thirsty yet.

After a brief hesitation, she typed again:

[You might want to find another drummer. I might not be able to come anymore.]

“Why? Aren’t you desperate for money?”

Luo Mijin smiled without answering, and the others shrugged, not taking her words seriously.

“Did your sugar daddy show up today?” The guitarist plopped down beside her, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

Though Luo Mijin had always maintained her “mute” persona here, the band members even the bartenders, loved chatting with her.

But they were easy to handle. The “mute” act required little effort, and they filled in the gaps with their own assumptions.

She shook her head, indicating she didn’t know.

“Seriously? After all this time, you still haven’t sealed the deal? Are you just bad at this?” the bassist chimed in dramatically.

“Whatever. Here, new drumsticks, I had the boss order them special for you.” The guitarist smirked faintly as he handed her an unusually designed pair.

“Thanks.” The moment Luo Mijin took them, an electric current jolted through her fingers, sharp and numbing.

She remained perfectly still, almost zoning out, her upturned eyes lazily half-lidded as she swayed faintly to the bar’s music.

Support