A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 38.1

The damp, soft heat continued to rise, much like the torrential rain lashing against the windowsill at this very moment.

Luo Mijin felt as though a flame was licking at her fingers, threatening to melt them away at any second. She wanted to pull her hand back, but Rong Qingyao held it tightly.

“How do we cool down?”

“Just like this, don’t move,” Rong Qingyao murmured against Luo Mijin’s neck, clinging to her like a soft, climbing vine, as if she might offer herself up entirely in the next moment.

“Senior, where… where did the alcohol come from? Did you bring it yourself?”

“No, my roommate who came for the internship with me went out to buy some and gave me a bottle,” Rong Qingyao’s voice, softened by the rain, carried the warmth of Yuncheng’s night lights. “It seems a bit strong. I’m not good with alcohol.”

“Then drink less. Are you worried you won’t be able to sleep?”

“Mhm, a little.”

Rong Qingyao nodded slowly, her long black hair cascading down before she released Luo Mijin’s hand. She imagined herself as a supple vine wrapping around Luo Mijin, seeking relief from the heat in her body.

“I brought you an eye mask too. It’s really light and won’t press on your ears…” Luo Mijin froze, unable to react in time as Rong Qingyao took a step closer, rose onto her tiptoes, and hooked an arm around her, naturally burying her face against Luo Mijin’s neck once more.

Then, with a slow upward movement, her feverish cheek pressed tightly against Luo Mijin’s cooler skin, leaving no gaps.

“You’re like a little ice pack,” Rong Qingyao sighed contentedly, her breath, laced with the scent of alcohol and her own fragrance nestling into the small dimple at the corner of Luo Mijin’s lips. She repeated Luo Mijin’s name softly, over and over.

“Luo Mijin, Luo Mijin,” she laughed gently, her voice trailing off in a soft murmur. “Electronic Sheep, top of the leaderboard.”

Luo Mijin’s breath hitched.

The woman’s cheeks were soft and porcelain-white, her lips brushing lightly against the bandage on Luo Mijin’s chin, yet leaving a searing, lingering heat in her heart.

“Why do you call me Electronic Sheep?” Luo Mijin asked, clinging to the last shreds of her willpower. She steadied Rong Qingyao to look into her eyes.

“Your hair is white and so soft to touch, just like the Electronic Sheep grazing in the grasslands in the game. You said so yourself.”

Luo Mijin thought seriously for a moment. “But I’ve never been to the grasslands.”

Thinking of the game console placed beside her pillow, Rong Qingyao smiled, her snow-white face tinged with a faint blush, like a perfectly ripe peach.

“I’ve taken good care of it.”

“I know,” Luo Mijin replied softly. She had always been certain of this, which was why she had given the console to Rong Qingyao in the first place.

“You still haven’t answered my question. Is my body temperature high?”

“Mhm, a little warm.”

“What should we do about it?” Rong Qingyao steadied herself by pressing her hands against Luo Mijin’s shoulders.

“I’ll help you cool down right away.” Luo Mijin took a bottle of mineral water from her backpack, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to Rong Qingyao to drink before sealing it again.

She obediently wrapped her arms around Rong Qingyao. “Is this better?”

“Much better,” Rong Qingyao murmured, nestling quietly into the crook of Luo Mijin’s shoulder. She thought Luo Mijin was being very well-behaved, and it stirred a peculiar feeling in her something sweet, yet not entirely that.

At the brink of surrender, both of them instinctively hit the brakes.

Even though the woman’s eyes were tinged with red, her gaze clear and moist, her slightly intoxicated and alluring demeanor after drinking was utterly captivating, her attire seemed designed to suppress all desire neat, tidy, with her white shirt buttoned up to the very top.

“Luo Mijin, do you want to go take a shower first?”

“What?” Luo Mijin was still lost in the soft sensation lingering on her fingertips, slow to react.

“Aren’t you tired from the flight? Do you want to shower so you can sleep afterward? Tomorrow we have to go to the office for work, and it’s your first day.”

“What about you?”

“I’m so dizzy,” Rong Qingyao murmured, her body limp, especially after being embraced so tightly without room to breathe. “I just want to sleep.”

She realized her alcohol tolerance really was terrible.

Luo Mijin set down her backpack, took out the newly bought blue-and-white porcelain silk eye mask, and pulled Rong Qingyao even closer, carefully maneuvering her onto the bed.

Rong Qingyao lay flat on the snow-white bed, her eyes half-lidded, long lashes casting soft shadows, her cool demeanor seemingly capable of dispelling the summer heat.

After tucking her in and adjusting the open collar of her shirt, Luo Mijin closed the window and drew the ivory curtains. Moonlight still seeped through, like a layer of pale blue gauze, draping over the woman’s body.

Luo Mijin sat on the wooden chair by the bed, momentarily forgetting what she was supposed to do, simply watching Rong Qingyao’s serene, pale sleeping face.

Just as she thought the woman had fallen asleep, Rong Qingyao suddenly removed the eye mask, sat up clutching the blanket, her damp eyes reflecting the desolate moonlight.

“Luo Mijin,” her voice was sticky-sweet.

“I’m here,” Luo Mijin lowered her gaze. “Why aren’t you sleeping? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Why haven’t you gone to shower yet?”

“Oh, I forgot,  I’ll go in a bit.”

“I want to shower too. I don’t feel comfortable.”

“But you can barely stand right now,” Luo Mijin frowned, thinking for a moment before saying, “You could sleep first and shower in the morning when you wake up.”

“Mmm, I am a little drunk,” Rong Qingyao exuded a fragile yet unfulfilled aura, like trembling grass drenched in heavy rain. “Then… could you help me?”

“Help you… with what?”

Uncontrollably, a few stray thoughts surfaced. Luo Mijin pinched herself discreetly, suddenly feeling parched. She reached for the water bottle, then remembered Rong Qingyao had just drunk from it, and her face flushed even redder.

After a while with no response from Rong Qingyao, Luo Mijin grew more nervous and tentatively asked:

“Do you want me to help you shower? That wouldn’t be appropriate, right?”

The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to bite her tongue. Why did she say something like that? It made her sound like she had ulterior motives.

So she immediately tried to backtrack, “No, no, no! I mean, you don’t need me to help you shower, right?”

Hearing this, the woman, who had been serene and elegant just moments ago, furrowed her brows and spoke in a wounded tone:

“So you dislike me that much?”

“How could that be?”You won’t even help me,” Rong Qingyao sat on the edge of the bed, hugging the feather-light white blanket, her eyes reddening with grievance.

“I don’t dislike you, I’ll help.”

“Then I’ll go shower. I’ll talk to you every five minutes. If I don’t respond…” Seeing Luo Mijin flustered and pacing, the woman let a few strands of black hair fall, her expression softening as she stopped teasing her. “Could you come in and wake me up?”

“Wake you up?” Luo Mijin’s mind was slowing down, taking over ten seconds to process Rong Qingyao’s words.

“Mm, in case I pass out,” Rong Qingyao said with a faint smile, emphasizing, “I won’t lock the door.”

There was an illusion of a secret invitation in those last words. Luo Mijin frowned, unable to respond.

“What, are you annoyed with me already? Don’t want to help?”

Luo Mijin was speechless, realizing that even someone as aloof and indifferent as Rong Qingyao could have such unreasonable… adorable moments.

“Of course I’m not annoyed. I’ll help you. Senior, don’t worry.”

Rong Qingyao seemed to have sobered up a little. She gathered her change of clothes and walked steadily into the bathroom.

“Luo Mijin, I didn’t lock the door. You can just turn the knob and come in.”

Through the frosted glass of the bathroom door, the woman’s voice carried a distorted allure, as if it could strip away reason, leaving only untimely, wanton imaginings.

Luo Mijin’s throat went dry, but she didn’t dare leave. Instead, she picked up a hotel menu to steady her thoughts.

Yet, as the warm bathroom light flickered on and the sound of running water began, the scent of damp heat and snow seeped out in wisps of steam.

A certain fantasy became uncontrollable, she remembered the woman’s hands, her flushed lips, the snow-like fragrance, weaving together into a poem of awakening, once tender, once fervent.

But none of it compared to the torment of this moment’s temptation.

“Luo Mijin.”

Every so often, the woman would call her name, the syllables lingering, each time dragging Luo Mijin deeper into the hallucinatory play of light and shadow.

Luo Mijin couldn’t stop recalling those scenes the tenderness, the softness, the startlingly wet warmth when she entered.

With each deep thrust, she could hear the fragmented, delicate sobs.

“Luo Mijin.”

“Senior, I’m here. Are you okay?”

“Mm.”

“Luo Mijin.”

“I’m here.”

Getting up, Luo Mijin grabbed a takeout flyer from the dining table and randomly jabbed at the “Black Truffle Seafood Soup” on the menu, forcing herself to snap out of the sacrilegious fantasy.

After a deep breath, she gritted her teeth and dialed the restaurant’s number, ordering a few items and requesting delivery in half an hour.

The sound of water in the bathroom gradually ceased. Rong Qingyao stared at her reflection in the mirror, her long hair soaked, when she faintly heard a knock.

“Senior, the food’s here. I’ll go get it,” Luo Mijin’s voice was hoarse, as if something unresolved lingered within it.

“Okay.”

“Senior, are you done showering?” Luo Mijin asked softly outside the bathroom door after retrieving the takeout.

“Mm, I’m done.”

Luo Mijin exhaled in relief and began setting out the food.

Truthfully, the company-provided dormitory was decent, a clean, tidy double room with two small single beds, a brand-new curtain, and a pot of blooming lilies of the valley on the dining table, their faint fragrance drifting through the air.

Though the air conditioning was on, she had to open the balcony window for fresh air. The night breeze carried the indistinct scent of rain.

Changed into pajamas, Rong Qingyao emerged from the bathroom, her body still warm and fragrant with steam. After closing the bathroom door, she noticed Luo Mijin leaning against the balcony railing, watching the rain.

Her silver hair cascaded down her back, glowing faintly in the light.

Unable to resist, Rong Qingyao walked over and ruffled Luo Mijin’s fluffy white hair.

The girl wasn’t startled. When she turned, her bangs and eyes were damp, tiny stars flickering in her gaze.

For a moment, Rong Qingyao felt her heart sway.

“Senior, is your head still dizzy?”

“Much better now.”

“I ordered some sobering soup, go have a little.” Luo Mijin had already turned her head away, not daring to look at Rong Qingyao for more than a few seconds.

The woman wore a black spaghetti-strap dress that draped down to her ankles, revealing large swathes of porcelain-white, delicate skin, like a snowfield under moonlight.

“Will you join me?”

Rong Qingyao’s gaze was too tender. Luo Mijin only hesitated for a second before surrendering completely.

The takeout shop’s cheesecake pudding and fruit salad were quite good, but the seafood soup was mediocre at best.

Luo Mijin took one sip before frowning and pushing it away, only to see Rong Qingyao grinning mischievously at her.

“It really doesn’t taste good. The broth’s consistency is weird, and there’s way too much butter,” Luo Mijin muttered under her breath.

“Mhm, I get it,” Rong Qingyao said calmly, finishing the soup for her.

Sharing food like this had never happened in Luo Mijin’s life before. She stared at the woman’s lips, flushed and damp from the steam, her thoughts drifting further and further away.

After the late-night snack, Luo Mijin dug out some clothes from her suitcase and quickly took a shower, splashing cold water on her face to cool down.

By the time she returned to the bedroom, her hair was half-dry, still faintly carrying the woman’s lingering fragrance.

She had assumed Rong Qingyao was already asleep, but to her surprise, a nightlight was still on in the room. The woman was casually sprawled over the blanket, leaning on the bedside as she gazed at Luo Mijin lying on the other bed.

The loose neckline of the black spaghetti-strap dress slipped slightly with her posture, revealing more than intended, but Rong Qingyao seemed entirely unbothered as she flipped through a textbook. When she noticed Luo Mijin’s return, she quickly closed the book.

It was past one in the morning.

“Senior, aren’t you sleepy?”

“I am. I was waiting for you.”

Luo Mijin’s heart skipped a beat. She shifted from lying flat to her side, facing Rong Qingyao.

Neither of them drew the bed curtains, maintaining an unspoken agreement one turn of the head, and they could see each other.

“Do you think I’m a bother?”

“Why would you say that?” Rong Qingyao sat up seriously, her gaze fixed on Luo Mijin, oblivious to the strap slipping off her shoulder.

Luo Mijin lowered her eyes. “Well… a lot of people seem to think so.”

Rong Qingyao couldn’t understand where this was coming from. Luo Mijin rarely interacted with others, yet she would hand out Mint Candy and umbrellas to classmates.

Who would ever find a quiet, beautiful, well-behaved girl troublesome?

“But I think you’re adorable,” Rong Qingyao said, not to console her, but because she truly meant it. “If they knew you the way I do, they’d feel the same.”

Are we dating now?

The question nearly tumbled out of Luo Mijin’s mouth, reckless and unrestrained, but years of ingrained caution held her back.

She had never been this intimate with anyone before. Alongside the joy and happiness, there was also a vague, indistinct confusion.

So, all she said was a sincere “Thank you, Senior,” masking the turmoil beneath a facade of calm.

For a moment, she even wanted to lay everything bare to let Rong Qingyao see the real her.

Wouldn’t it only be fair to make a judgment after knowing the whole truth?

“Senior, goodnight.” After saying this, Luo Mijin closed her eyes.

On the other bed, the woman’s clear, lingering gaze rested lightly on Luo Mijin, sending phantom shivers down her spine.

Luo Mijin, who usually slept soundly, tossed and turned all night, exhausted but unable to fall asleep.

The nights in Yuncheng were silent, Luo Mijin’s emotions oscillated between excitement and despair. She felt like she had turned into a black rock, pushed off a dark cliff over and over again by unseen hands.

Sometimes, she was transported back to her childhood, taken deep into the mountains by that perfectly matched couple. They left her a bag of brightly colored candies before walking away without a backward glance.

It was Zhiwen who appeared when she was on the brink of death only this time, the Luo family couldn’t suppress the media frenzy. News outlets freely fabricated sensational headlines.

#Disgrace from a Noble Family#

#Mental Illness or a Born Monster Who Killed Her Parents?#

#The Luo Family’s Eldest Granddaughter Rejected by Ten Schools#

The overwhelming coverage, paired with the news of her parents’ fatal car accident, painted her as a pariah. Every time she stepped outside, she was met with pointing fingers and hushed whispers.

The truth didn’t matter as long as there was a stain, she could be judged.

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