A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 34.1

“Miss Rong, are you asking if I need help of the kind that involves getting into bed?” Luo Mijin repeated the question numbly. She thought she would feel ashamed, embarrassed, or some other emotion.

But she didn’t. All she felt was exhaustion and numbness. Perhaps after experiencing too much, she was no longer the sunny, cheerful, and innocent girl from seven years ago.

Or perhaps she had long since given up on herself. Those so-called “lessons” had taken root in her, making her believe she was wrong, sinful, and in need of change.

Having seen the other facets of this polyhedral world, she had ultimately become a hypocrite even she despised.

If it had been her from seven years ago, she might have been more sincere and straightforward with Rong Qingyao, saying, “I can’t accept your help because you’re already someone else’s fiancée. I’m in pain, do you understand?”

Or she might have shamelessly cried and begged Rong Qingyao not to marry someone else, resorting to every possible tantrum.

But the Luo Mijin of seven years later couldn’t do that anymore.

She had grown up. She had learned not to let her tears fall.

Perhaps she should be more generous. After all, Rong Qingyao had once promised her a beautiful, never-ending romance, days filled with happiness when they were together and those promises had been fulfilled.

Those had been the happiest months of her life.

She was absolutely certain that such happiness had never existed before and would never exist again.

This was the punishment for ending a “never-ending romance” with her own hands.

There were no cherry tomatoes in the fruit yogurt on the table. Luo Mijin simply stared at Rong Qingyao, her weary face devoid of any expression.

Strangely enough, Rong Qingyao visibly furrowed her brows at the question, her eyes flickering with what seemed like pain and struggle.

Luo Mijin couldn’t read her emotions, nor did she dare to. She no longer had the courage to speculate about the thoughts of someone else’s fiancée.

Doing so would only make her seem more like a clown lurking in the shadows.

Finally, she heard Rong Qingyao’s reply. The woman’s voice was as calm and composed as ever.

“I generally don’t force people to do things they don’t want to do.” Rong Qingyao emphasized the word “generally,” her gaze darkening. “I just want to offer appropriate help. You can relax a little.”

“So, is this still just a ‘general’ situation?” Luo Mijin murmured, lowering her eyes.

Rong Qingyao replied lightly, “For now, yes.”

Luo Mijin’s gaze shifted from the fruit yogurt on the table to the world outside.

The dark sky held few stars. Butterflies fluttered gracefully in the glass greenhouse, as if reminding her of moments worth cherishing and moments that deserved punishment.

She remembered the night she had personally proposed the breakup. She was sure Rong Qingyao hadn’t forgotten either, because their memories were equally vivid, every minute detail still clear as day.

The entire exchange had consisted of just three words.”Let’s break up”, without even the courtesy of further explanation. Yet it had been enough to trample their once-sweet vows into dust, turning promises of happiness into bitter, expired jokes.

If even such vows could be broken, what in this world was truly eternal?

Anyone in such a position, no matter how steadfast their beliefs, would be destroyed without hesitation.

Rong Qingyao was no exception.

But Luo Mijin knew she had nothing to argue, it was all her own fault, entirely deserved, and she couldn’t blame anyone else.

“I can’t accept your help,” she said, word by word, as if the short sentence had drained all her energy. “After all, I owe you too much. My conscience won’t allow it. Yes, my conscience. Maybe you don’t believe it, but I do have a sense of right and wrong.”

As she spoke, Luo Mijin laughed.

Rong Qingyao’s expression darkened abruptly. She didn’t want to revisit the past, the breakup, just as she instinctively avoided recalling the sight of her mother lying in a pool of blood on her birthday.

Almost every sleepless night, her memories would drift back to these two most painful moments. Whether she numbly avoided them or analyzed them coldly, nothing helped.

Only years of confusion and bewilderment wandered in her heart like restless ghosts.

Every time, she armed herself fully to face the hardships fate threw at her again. Yet why was it always the people she cared about most who stripped her of her defenses?

She should resent Luo Mijin, she could retaliate, be cold, or simply ignore her. But hating Luo Mijin was even more painful than loving her.

She was weak, so she couldn’t do it.

The woman’s elegant face carried a refined smile, like a winner at the negotiation table. But she knew that if their relationship were a game of chess, whether she made a move or not, she was the loser.

Besides, no matter the outcome, the past could never return.

So, she didn’t care about winning or losing.

“What you owe me, you can repay slowly.” The more you owe, the better.

Luo Mijin stubbornly raised her eyes and said:

“You don’t have to worry about me. I can use my own heart for Zhiwen that’s what I owe her too.”

“Exchanging your life for your sister’s, do you think Zhiwen would be happy if she woke up to that?”

Rong Qingyao’s fingertips momentarily whitened from the force of her grip before quickly relaxing. She adopted a calm, businesslike tone.

“You owe too many debts. Wouldn’t dying be too easy?”

“I believe accepting my help is the most beneficial option for you at this stage not just for you, but for Zhiwen as well. Acting on impulse or following your emotions isn’t wise.”

“Even if we set that aside, I’ve consulted the doctors. Zhiwen’s condition requires the best medical equipment. Otherwise, the longer this drags on, the slimmer her chances of waking up become. You care about her deeply, even someone unrelated like me can’t turn a blind eye.”

“If you really can’t accept it,” the woman lifted her lashes slightly, her full red lips curving temptingly, “you can think about what else you can do.”

Luo Mijin smiled stiffly. “At this point, I don’t think there’s anything I can do, except disappoint you.”

“You won’t,” Rong Qingyao tilted her head, gazing at the butterfly emerging from its cocoon in the glass greenhouse, her voice dreamlike. “Whether I’m disappointed or not is for me to decide. You just need to act.”

For a few seconds, Luo Mijin was dazed, her eyes reddening at the corners. She quickly lowered her head, trying to hide behind her hair.

In her dazed vision, she almost thought the woman who had just said “You won’t” was the Rong Qingyao of the past.

That senior Qingyao who wore ordinary clothes, the one who promised to stay with her forever, the one who showed her real emotions and gave her a chance to make up for her mistakes.

Not this composed, elegant woman before her, who seemed to have completely let go of the past.

All those past memories had turned into bubbles that burst at the slightest touch, empty echoes with no resonance nothing left to look back upon except futility.

The most laughable part was that she herself was the culprit behind this situation. She didn’t even have the right to cry.

“I still don’t know what I can offer to deserve your kindness and generosity,” Luo Mijin finally said after a long silence, circling back to the same point.

“You can stay with me for now. Right here, by my side. I need to make sure you don’t do anything foolish.”

The woman’s words were startling. Luo Mijin jerked her head up, only to see Rong Qingyao still composed and languid, as if this were just some trivial request.

“But—” Luo Mijin shut her eyes with difficulty, her thoughts in disarray.

“I’m acquainted with the doctors. It’ll be more convenient for you to stay here while taking care of your sister and discussing Zhiwen’s condition with them.” Rong Qingyao’s ability to rein in her emotions was swift, she had already shed any personal sentiment and was now effortlessly persuading Luo Mijin.

Though no one knew when the next loss of control would come.

“What about you?” Luo Mijin’s mind was too muddled; she could only follow her instincts in asking.

Rong Qingyao leaned gracefully against the sofa, her eyes half-lidded, her cool voice carrying a subtle shift in tone. “Of course I have my own affairs to attend to. I’ll be in the country most of the time, but when I do come here, naturally we’ll stay together. Is there a problem with that?”

Luo Mijin lowered her head, her voluminous silver hair obscuring her brows, yet filled with the clear glow of the lamplight.

Hearing the faint trace of mockery in Rong Qingyao’s words, her breathing grew inexplicably ragged. Her chest remained numb, devoid of any emotion, yet a scalding ache welled up behind her eyes.

“You can take a few days to think it over,” the woman said lazily, adjusting her mother-of-pearl cufflinks with an indifferent smile. “I’m very patient.”

No one saw the way her gaze gradually darkened, revealing an obsessive determination.

Retreating to advance was one of her usual tactics. Clichéd, perhaps, but effective all the same.

Whether she was being presumptuous in offering her sincerity or not, she would get everything she wanted.

With that, Rong Qingyao rose lightly and went upstairs alone to finish her pending work, informing Luo Mijin that she was free to stay the night or leave, the guest room was fully prepared either way.

Once the woman went upstairs, she did not return, as if she had truly handed all the power of choice to Luo Mijin.

Motionless on the sofa, Luo Mijin’s thoughts were sluggish, her face pale. She didn’t understand what Rong Qingyao was thinking—it was as if the woman simply wanted to play the role of a magnanimous, kind-hearted person who had done everything possible even for an ex who had abandoned her.

Generous, compassionate, and utterly without ulterior motives.

It filled her with an inexplicable sense of suffocation. Luo Mijin would have preferred it if Rong Qingyao had simply watched her coldly from the sidelines or treated her with even more indifference.

Not this kindness, this righteousness, this detachment.

No, she shouldn’t think like this. She shouldn’t indulge in unrealistic delusions, delusions that this person would use her guilt and mistakes to keep punishing her.

Pain and cruelty were still far better than indifference. At least then, she might have been able to convince herself that Rong Qingyao still cared.

Cutting off her own foolish thoughts, Luo Mijin reminded herself once again: Rong Qingyao was engaged now. She had completely let go of the past.

Even if Rong Qingyao weren’t engaged, the possibility of them ever being together again was next to none.

Seven years is enough time to change everything, enough to destroy all beautiful possibilities.

Luo Mijin clenched her fists, telling her long-dead heart not to rekindle its ashes.

She had already held Rong Qingyao back once, how could she be so selfish again?

No matter what Rong Qingyao truly intended to do, the woman’s life had already entered a new phase. She had someone more suitable by her side now, surrounded by so many outstanding, healthy, and wonderful people. Getting involved with someone as dull as Luo Mijin again was hardly a wise decision.

Besides, Luo Mijin remembered what Rong Qingyao had said when they reunited: “After all, I’ve almost forgotten.” And the woman had smiled at her with a near-indifferent, unfamiliar expression.

Seven years ago, in that sealed tower, she had already seen the postcard Rong Qingyao sent. After she had uttered the words to break up, everything that followed was a cold reality she could no longer deceive herself about.

When she ended things, she had already foreseen the consequences. Rong Qingyao was the smartest, most pragmatic, and ambitious person she had ever met.

It was Luo Mijin who had “betrayed” their love, turning all of Rong Qingyao’s devotion to ashes waking her from a sweet dream.

Naturally, Rong Qingyao no longer held any feelings for her, not even a trace of lingering attachment.

Outside, the sky was dark and heavy. Luo Mijin had originally planned to sleep on the living room sofa for the night, but the air here was saturated with the woman’s scent achingly nostalgic and painful.

Just then, the villa’s keypad door beeped twice, and a young woman in a white suit walked in. Upon seeing Luo Mijin, she let out a startled exclamation.

Bai Jinhuai widened her eyes. “Oh my, uh, hello! I’ll just… go upstairs first, got some things to do.”

In the end, it was Bai Jinhuai who came back downstairs and offered to drive Luo Mijin home. Luo Mijin was about to refuse, but Bai Jinhuai immediately put on a pitiful expression.

“Miss Luo, I’m Rong’s… assistant. Yes, just an assistant. I have to do my job properly, or I’ll get my pay docked or even fired.” Bai Jinhuai lied without batting an eye.

Seeing that Luo Mijin no longer resisted, Bai Jinhuai mentally gave herself a checkmark. Rong Qingyao had repeatedly stressed that Luo Mijin must be sent home safely, and as a ride-or-die best friend, she naturally had to follow through.

Besides her friend’s request, she also had her own selfish motives, she wanted to probe Luo Mijin’s situation.

To see what kind of person she was, whether she was worthy, whether she deserved Rong Qingyao waiting for her all this time and still wanting to wait, as if no one else would do but Luo Mijin.

Sitting in the driver’s seat of the Lamborghini, Bai Jinhuai reminded Luo Mijin several times to fasten her seatbelt. Seeing the other woman still lost in thought, she couldn’t help but ask again:

“Miss Luo, why don’t you just stay at Rong’s place tonight? She’s always swamped with work, she has a fan meet in four hours, and a business banquet in a few days. She probably won’t have time to talk much with you.”

Only then did Luo Mijin slowly turn her head. “In four hours? She’s not sleeping tonight?”

Realizing her slip-up, Bai Jinhuai quickly straightened up and cleared her throat.

“Not exactly, just occasionally, occasionally not sleeping, not too much. You know after her sudden rise to fame from that film, she’s been flooded with offers. But her heart isn’t really in it, so now she’s juggling both sides, naturally getting little rest.”

“Her heart isn’t in it?”

“Mmm, I don’t know why President Rong agreed to enter the entertainment industry either. With her high education and family background… well, let’s not talk about that messy family situation. But many directors praise how deeply President Rong can immerse herself in roles, especially when playing characters full of regret and unwillingness.”

“How many films has she made?”

“Let me think,” Bai Jinhuai stopped at a red light, looking up at the sky in thought, “About six or seven. Haven’t you seen any?”

Luo Mijin shook her head, answering softly, “No, I haven’t.”

In truth, before coming to L City, she hadn’t used a phone in a long time, let alone gone online or to the cinema.

Bai Jinhuai looked astonished, as if hearing some unbelievable tale. She almost suspected Luo Mijin was some cave-dwelling primitive.

These past few years, Rong Qingyao had taken the entertainment world by storm. Though she rarely appeared on variety shows, her films were wildly popular with massive fan followings, grand merchandise releases, autograph sessions, and birthday events.

Could Luo Mijin really know nothing about this?

“Why don’t you watch them? Are you deliberately avoiding them?” Bai Jinhuai asked casually, eyes slightly narrowed.

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