A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 43.2

While drumming, Luo Mijin wasn’t wearing her hat, and her striking, brooding manga-like face drew frequent glances from the audience. Several guests wanted to send her flowers but were told that a certain “Fox” had exclusive rights to send her flowers for at least a year, no one else was allowed.

The performance didn’t last long, and after half an hour, another band took the stage.

The exhausted guitarist, having just sung a few songs, gulped down a bottle of water to recover before turning to gossip with Luo Mijin.

“Riddle, what’s up with you today? Something bothering you? You looked so serious during the performance totally captivated those shallow audience members.”

For a brief moment, Luo Mijin considered asking someone what to do when your ex gets treated like trash by someone else. But just as she was about to speak, she remembered she had no one to confide in or seek advice from.

She simply shook her head, maintaining her usual silent persona.

“Boring. By the way, why’s the person picking you up tonight different? And the car’s changed too some crazy expensive limited edition. Did some rich lady take you in?”

Luo Mijin thought about how Rong Qingyao had sent people to “escort” her to her villa, then assigned a team to cook, clean, and monitor her safety. Right now, nearly every aspect of her life depended on Rong Qingyao, it wasn’t far from being kept.

Except she didn’t have to meet her “benefactor” or sleep with her. She enjoyed all the perks without any obligations.

When Yan Si arrived to pick Luo Mijin up, she was surprised to find the usually silent and melancholic woman now seething with anger.

“Miss Luo, did something go wrong with the performance tonight? You seem upset.”

“Just call me by my name,” Luo Mijin finally admitted how awkward it felt to be addressed so formally. “You can call me Mijin. That’s what my sister calls me.”

Yan Si grinned, suddenly realizing Luo Mijin wasn’t as hard to get along with as she’d thought. In fact, she was warming up to her much faster than she had with her boss.

Well, wasn’t that a success in itself?

“Great! Then I’ll call you Mijin, and you call me Yan Si,” she said, beaming as she drove, already planning to text Rong Qingyao about this later. “From now on, we’re friends, the kind who share late-night heart-to-hearts.”

Friends?

Luo Mijin chewed on these two words, then suddenly lowered her head and smiled. She never thought she could still make friends.

Knowing that Luo Mijin wasn’t much of a talker, Yan Si didn’t drag her into idle chatter like before, focusing solely on driving while occasionally switching the songs on the car stereo, opting for quieter, more soothing ones.

The car moved smoothly from south to north, the neon lights flickering on both sides of the long street streetlamps, road signs, LED billboards, and the crystal chandeliers in front of commercial buildings, all dazzling in a riot of colors.

As they left the bar district, the atmosphere of revelry gradually faded until it disappeared entirely.

Once her eardrums had settled a bit, Luo Mijin turned the matter over in her mind and finally found an opening line that didn’t sound too forced.

“Yan Si, how long have you been working with her?”

“Who?” Yan Si glanced at Luo Mijin through the rearview mirror, noticing her slightly unnatural expression. “You mean President Rong?”

“Yeah,” Luo Mijin replied awkwardly, twisting her fingers together, feeling like her question was too deliberate.

“Let me think… almost four years now. I started as her personal assistant during my junior year internship.”

“So you must know her pretty well?”

Yan Si turned the steering wheel twice, navigating a curve, and answered cautiously,

“Just a little, barely scratching the surface. President Rong is quite reserved other than work, she keeps to herself and rarely interacts with outsiders. There aren’t many opportunities to get to know her.”

“Except in business settings, where she’s quite talkative, most of the time she just tends to her flowers, cooks, and lives a health-conscious life like an elderly person. She doesn’t even drink beverages or touch junk food.”

Well, not entirely. Rong Qingyao had eaten chips for quite a while before, hadn’t she? Yan Si thought to herself but didn’t mention this unusual exception.

Leaning against the car door to look out the window, Luo Mijin’s eyes reflected the city’s bustling sights. She remembered how, back in school, both classmates and teachers had described Rong Qingyao as helpful, gentle, and sociable.

Over these seven years, Rong Qingyao probably no longer felt the need to maintain that facade as she had in her youth at least not all the time.

“So, what kind of person do you think she is?”

“She seems a bit cold, but deep down, she’s kind, patient, and empathetic,” Yan Si countered. “What do you think?”

Seizing the chance Luo Mijin had initiated, she took the opportunity to gather intel for her boss.

“Yeah, she’s very kind,” Luo Mijin murmured, her voice low.

Too kind and soft-hearted, perhaps that was why she had been moved by Luo Mijin’s little tricks back then and ended up in a relationship with her.

Stopping at a red light, Yan Si laughed and said,

“You think so too, right? But before, when the PR team conducted a survey among President Rong’s fans, most of them said she was hard to approach, coming off as distant and aloof. Once, at a major event, some fans were so intimidated by her presence that they completely forgot their lines.”

“But she must have a lot of fans who adore her,” Luo Mijin said, unable to beat around the bush for long before cutting straight to the core of the matter. “Is she very close with that Mr. Scott?”

“They seem to get along well, or they wouldn’t be engaged. But they’re not together often,” Yan Si shared what little she knew, almost telling Luo Mijin everything. “At most, Scott sometimes visits her on set.”

“Do you know why they got engaged?” Luo Mijin clenched her fists, her neatly trimmed nails nearly digging into her palms.

Yan Si found Luo Mijin quite strange. She had seemed indifferent toward Rong Qingyao before, so why was she suddenly asking about this today?

Could it be that Luo Mijin wanted to reconcile with Rong Qingyao?

But there hadn’t been any signs of it before.

“It seems it was Old Master Cen, Rong Qingyao’s father, who brokered the match. Marriages of convenience among wealthy families are hardly uncommon,” Yan Si shrugged. “Scott may not be involved in his family’s business, but their substantial financial resources happen to be exactly what the Cen Group needs for its urgent expansion plans.”

Rong Qingyao’s father… Luo Mijin remembered him as a ruthless schemer who always chose the most advantageous path. Whether it was abandoning his wife and daughter, arranging a marriage alliance, or bringing Rong Qingyao back to the Cen family everything was calculated for personal gain.

“Did she return to the Cen family willingly?” The question slipped out before Luo Mijin realized she’d overstepped. “Never mind, you don’t have to answer that. I’m asking too much.”

“Mijin, why are you suddenly asking me about all this today?”

“No reason really, just making conversation. The car ride would be boring otherwise.”

Luo Mijin’s seemingly reasonable explanation struck Yan Si as odd, making her debate whether to report this unusual behavior to Rong Qingyao. But then again, Rong Qingyao had never asked her to monitor Luo Mijin’s every move and report back in detail. To put it bluntly, Yan Si sometimes thought Rong Qingyao behaved more like a creepy stalker.

In her seventeenth-floor office, Rong Qingyao was discussing scheduling and production details for her next film with her agent when Bai Jinhuai arrived with a tipsy Scott knocking at her door.

“The director for your next project has exceptionally high standards for dialogue. I understand you want to gradually reduce your workload, but Director Zhou’s project isn’t one to miss.”

“I’ll think about it,” Rong Qingyao said, twirling a newly purchased black-and-gold pen with one hand. The metal chain of her silver-rimmed glasses clinked against the pen with a crisp sound.

“Even if you’re planning to fade from the spotlight, you should leave something memorable behind,” her agent pressed, noticing the subtle shift in Rong Qingyao’s cool gaze, a sign she’d correctly guessed her client’s ambition. “I know how you operate either don’t do it at all, or be the best.”

Setting down the pen, Rong Qingyao’s eyes behind the silver lenses appeared misty, revealing nothing. The office door had now been knocked on three times. The woman rose gracefully, a black Go stone disappearing into her sleeve.

“Bring me the script tomorrow to review.”

Her agent beamed, happily opening the door for the visitors. “I knew you’d make the wisest choice. Well, someone’s here for you, so I’ll head back to the office. I’ll email you the script later.”

After exchanging greetings with Rong Qingyao’s agent, Bai Jinhuai and Scott quickly shut the door behind them.

Scott got straight to the point, immediately launching into complaints. “Do you have any idea how close I came to being devoured alive by Riddle?”

Rong Qingyao rubbed the Go stone in her palm, smiling with little interest. “You’re drunk.”

“I did everything exactly as you said, and Riddle seemed furious. You should go confess your feelings to her now.”

“You’re drunk. Go sleep it off,” Rong Qingyao repeated. “She’s always had a strong sense of justice. She’d react the same way no matter who was involved.”

Bai Jinhuai interjected on Scott’s behalf. “Honestly, do you really need to go through all this trouble? Just march over and confess already or skip straight to bed if you prefer.”

“Because I’m afraid,” Rong Qingyao said softly, toying with the cap of her fountain pen, clicking it open and shut repeatedly.

“Aren’t you the one who fears nothing in heaven or earth? There’s actually something you’re afraid of?” Scott slurred his words as he launched into chatterbox mode again. “You have no idea, both Mike and I were completely awed by Riddle. It felt like she’d go through fire and water for you, brave any danger.”

“Is that so?” Rong Qingyao’s heart skipped a beat before quickly settling again, wary of how high hopes could lead to even greater disappointment.

“Go back to sleep, you’re annoying,” Bai Jinhuai said disdainfully, shooing Scott out of the office before returning to pour himself a cup of green tea on the sofa.

“Qingyao, what are you afraid of?”

“Afraid of being rejected.”

She thought of how Luo Mijin refused to eat the meals she prepared, how she wouldn’t go to the private hospital with her, even how she seemed reluctant to see her at all.

Rong Qingyao couldn’t bear it. Who could endure someone who once burned passionately for you turning as cold as ice overnight?

She no longer had the courage she once had to lead Luo Mijin across the desert to see the Aurora, nor the resolve to confess her feelings openly.

If she laid everything bare and Luo Mijin simply smiled lightly and said, “Oh, so that’s how it is,” what would she do?

Even if Luo Mijin didn’t accept Lan Mingyu, it didn’t mean she would accept her. In that case, she and Lan Mingyu were no different at all.

Those who are unloved are always this hesitant and indecisive.

“You’re still the same as before you like to plan everything carefully before acting. With other things, even if there’s only a one percent chance of success, you’d still take the gamble. But now you’re afraid,” Bai Jinhuai concluded. “Qingyao, you lost miserably when it came to that first love of yours.”

The black jade chess piece felt cool in her palm as Rong Qingyao’s memories returned to the rooftop of that abandoned bar, the background noise filled with the sounds of kittens and puppies, the drizzle generously bestowed by the gods.

The moment they played chess with the stars, she had already lost.

Luo Mijin had even generously introduced the stars as her friends, while she herself was the first to leave.

It was almost laughable this complete loser still had so many things left behind: the stars, the chess pieces, the game console.

“Yes, I did lose.”

“So what are you going to do next?” Bai Jinhuai tapped the table. “Scott even played along with your act. Can’t you at least tell me your plan?”

Rong Qingyao fiddled with the pen cap, answering absentmindedly:

“Keep her within my sight.”

“And that’s all you want?” Bai Jinhuai stirred his teacup. “Sometimes I think you’re quite the schemer, and other times, you’re just plain cowardly.”

Her frustration reached its peak. In her memory, Rong Qingyao wasn’t the type to be consumed by love, nor would she stage some act just to win someone over.

That left only one answer: she loved that person deeply, to the core, blindly.

She knew Rong Qingyao loved her first love, Luo Mijin, but she hadn’t realized it was to this extent.

**

The next day was a Wednesday. Ever since Lan Mingyu found out Luo Mijin was living with Rong Qingyao, she visited more often to keep her company.

However, she noticed that every time she came over to help Luo Mijin pick new cake and coffee flavors, Rong Qingyao just happened to be home.

“Oh, Miss Rong is here too.”

“Miss Lan is very punctual.”

Rong Qingyao, who had been flipping through a script in the garden, removed her silver-rimmed glasses and greeted Lan Mingyu with elegant warmth.

“What can I say? Luo Luo has an exceptional palate. Every new product she picks becomes a bestseller at my café. Of course, I had to come.”

Lan Mingyu was dressed in a fresh, pale green dress with lotus leaf accents today, her understated elegance making Rong Qingyao, who wore a simple black suit appear stern and unapproachable, almost ascetic.

Back at the hospital, Lan Mingyu had already seen through Rong Qingyao’s intentions. Now, she was even more displeased with how this woman would stop at nothing to keep Luo Mijin confined in her home.

Though she had long lost any right to compete in this love affair, she refused to let Rong Qingyao have it too easy.

“Mingyu, there’s something I want to ask you.”

“Go ahead. What’s there that we can’t talk about? I could tell you were distracted today.”

“If just if, you discovered a secret about someone, and whether you told them or not, it would hurt them… what would you choose?”

“What kind of secret?”

Luo Mijin shook her head. “I can’t say.”

“Is it about Rong Qingyao?” Lan Mingyu smiled as she drained her coffee. “Your expression tells me I’m right. Luo Luo, you’re terrible at lying.”

“Then what would you do?”

“The truth is, the moment you asked me, you already knew the answer.”

Luo Mijin’s expression remained calm, the glow of the setting sun casting shadows over her high cheekbones and the knuckles gripping the edge of the table.

“Then I’ll go now. We’ll talk again next time.”

Lan Mingyu smiled helplessly. As the defeated rival, she knew she wasn’t being particularly gracious, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop Luo Mijin either.

This was all she could do.

Luo Mijin descended from the third floor and, after just a few steps, encountered the white lion cat, Mint Candy. The cat had grown familiar with her over the past few days and meowed sweetly at her in a high-pitched, coquettish tone.

“No more treats. You need to lose weight.”

Rong Qingyao had specifically warned her not to give in to Mint Candy’s begging.

The cat blinked its round, pleading eyes at Luo Mijin before rubbing affectionately against her leg.

“Flattery won’t work. Where’s your owner?”

Seeing that no treats were forthcoming, Mint Candy flicked its fluffy white tail and sauntered off without another sound, making Luo Mijin chuckle.

When she looked up again, she noticed the direction Mint Candy had taken was lined with dense, emerald-green vines climbing the walls lush and translucent.

A woman sat in the courtyard, clad in a pure black dress with a nearly backless design, crisscrossed straps forming a deep V-neck that exposed a vast expanse of pale, delicate skin. Her cold, beautiful face, however, looked wan and weary, like the faded edges of a once-vibrant painting.

Luo Mijin hurried over, deciding to cut straight to the point to minimize conversation.

“Rong Qingyao, I need to talk to you.”

The woman turned slowly, her deep-set eyes glistening with moisture, looking every bit like someone who had suffered great injustice.

“Mm. Go ahead.”

Luo Mijin took a deep breath. “Scott likes men. I saw him with my own eyes, embracing a blond, blue-eyed man.”

Rong Qingyao lowered her gaze slightly, her exquisite face carrying an unspoken sorrow.

Seeing that Rong Qingyao showed no surprise, Luo Mijin pressed further:

“You… you already knew?”

Rong Qingyao forced a relieved smile and said, “Yes, I’ve known for a long time.”

Her eyes reddened, making her seem even more aggrieved. “But what can I do about it?”

Luo Mijin’s heart ached with pity and anger. There was a restrained sensuality about the woman, one that constantly ground out pain, the tighter she held on, the more it hurt, making him want to save her at any cost, even if it meant sacrificing himself.

At this moment, Rong Qingyao seemed so fragile in his eyes, as if she would shatter at the slightest touch, vanishing like drifting dust. Every second felt like the last moment before losing control.

“Like you said, even though we’ve broken up, we’re still alumni. How do you think I can help you?”

“You want to help me?” Rong Qingyao’s eyes were tinged with red, her deep V-neck dress revealing the alluring rise and fall of her snow-white skin.

“Of course,” Luo Mijin declared firmly. “You absolutely cannot marry someone you don’t love.”

“Then tell me,” the woman’s voice was soft and husky, her gaze at Luo Mijin pitifully tender, “who should I marry?”

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