A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 46.2

“Playing drums is nice. Maybe once I recover, I can join you.”

“Sure, I’d love to make music with you.”

“By the way, how are things with Qingyao-jie? You still haven’t found her, have you?” Luo Zhiwen asked the question that weighed most on her mind. “After I get better, I can help you look for her. Before I got hurt, I remember she acted in a movie and entered the entertainment industry… We can search for her online together.”

Luo Mijin held her sister’s hand, forcing calm into her voice.

“No, that won’t be necessary.”

“Why not? Don’t you like Qingyao-jie anymore?”

Luo Zhiwen was baffled. That couldn’t be right, she knew Luo Mijin was stubborn, the type who never wavered once she set her mind on something.

After a pause, Luo Mijin knew she couldn’t evade reality any longer. “I saw her. I saw her last year, before Christmas.”

At that, Luo Zhiwen’s eyes brightened. “Then you two… did you make up?”

“No. She’s doing well now. She has everything she ever wanted.”

“That’s great. I always believed in Qingyao-jie so sharp-witted yet full of character, so hardworking. If she didn’t succeed, who would? That’s really wonderful, wait, you said you didn’t make up?”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” And probably never would.

Luo Zhiwen quickly adjusted her mindset and encouraged,

“You and Qingyao-jie have been apart for so long, and your breakup was brutal. Reconciling won’t happen overnight, but I have faith in you two.”

She wasn’t worried about their feelings at all. Back then, they had loved each other desperately despite all the hardships. Now, with everything nearly perfect and their material conditions much better, what obstacles could there be?

She thought time would heal old wounds and rekindle their love.

“Yeah, she’s perfect,” Luo Mijin murmured. “That’s why she’s engaged.”

Luo Zhiwen frowned. “Engaged? To whom?”

“Someone else,” Luo Mijin replied.

“Someone else?”

“Yeah.”

A deep silence settled over the hospital room, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment, preventing the moment from feeling hollow.

“You’re joking, right?” Luo Zhiwen’s breathing quickened. “Qingyao-jie is engaged to someone else? A man? But aren’t you… lesbians? Don’t you like girls?”

Luo Mijin nodded, then lowered her head, as if too many people had already told her about Rong Qingyao’s engagement, and she had repeated the fact too many times herself.

She was almost numb to it now.

She hated herself even more sensitive, cunning, lonely, hopeless, indecisive, a loser who wanted but didn’t dare to fight.

“Back then, she’d never been in love before. Maybe she doesn’t only like girls. That’s what I think.”

Luo Zhiwen felt she was most likely dreaming. “Am I dreaming? Back then, for the sake of love, you two endured living in that terrible old neighborhood after having your finances cut off. I remember that place had power outages every three days and water cuts every five days just fifteen square meters, yet you toughed it out.”

Though the Luo family wasn’t particularly warm or loving, Luo Mijin had never known poverty from birth. Just hearing about those living conditions over the phone had been unbearable for her at the time.

Yet those two had persevered, proving that love could sustain them even through hardship.

If asked about miracles of love she had witnessed, Luo Zhiwen would firmly believe in Luo Mijin and Rong Qingyao.

“And what about when Grandpa tried to suppress you, barring you from participating in Go tournaments, freezing all your prize money, even sending people to drag you back home? Didn’t you endure all that too?” Luo Zhiwen remembered how she had imagined those scenes like something out of a thrilling, life-on-the-run drama.

“Yeah,” Luo Mijin murmured to herself, suddenly worried her emotional state might affect her sister’s health. She quickly pulled herself together, feigning nonchalance as she said, “But it’s all in the past now. It’s nothing, really. All over.”

“But how could things turn out like this? How could love just… die?”

Luo Mijin didn’t answer, only thinking silently to herself: It was a slow death.

From hope, to hopelessness, until finally, despair.

Life wasn’t a fairy tale. It was real, ever-changing, and complex.

“It’s alright, Zhiwen,” Luo Mijin pressed her lips together. “Oh, the doctor said you could have some rice soup earlier. I’ll go buy you a bowl. Wait for me.”

“Ah, no need, Mijin. You could just order delivery…” Seeing Luo Mijin flee like a startled deer, Luo Zhiwen almost instantly understood, she wanted to be alone.

About ten minutes later, Luo Mijin returned with the rice soup, her emotions seemingly back under control.

The two in the hospital room tacitly avoided mentioning Rong Qingyao again, only occasionally bringing up amusing and joyful memories from the past.

A transparent attempt to conceal what couldn’t be hidden.

When Rong Qingyao arrived at the hospital room, she was impeccably dressed, her long hair elegantly pinned up, exuding a meticulous, almost ascetic aura.

However, several sleepless nights coupled with intense work had left her in poor condition. Her narrow eyes were tinged with red, her face pale as paper beautiful yet fragile, like a radiant ghost on the verge of dissipating.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” Luo Mijin was the first to rise from the bedside, approaching Rong Qingyao with unnatural concern. “You didn’t have to come to the hospital right away. You should go home and get some rest first.”

Yan Si followed behind Rong Qingyao, exhausted from the rushed flight and jet lag. She felt dizzy halfway, as if she might collapse at any moment.

“We flew back from the country as soon as we got the news. Barely slept for two days straight, and meals were rushed too,” Yan Si smoothly recounted their arduous journey.

Rong Qingyao quietly steadied her breathing, saying nothing.

“I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to see a doctor, I feel like I’m about to collapse,” Yan Si said, pressing a hand to her forehead before quickly addressing Rong Qingyao. “President Rong, do you want to come with me? You look ill too.”

After all, Rong Qingyao would be covering the expenses might as well get a check-up, sick or not.

Rong Qingyao’s eyes were dark, her lips unusually crimson. She waved lightly, signaling Yan Si to go ahead. “I’m fine. Go rest, you’ve worked hard.”

“But you were in so much pain yesterday…” Yan Si’s voice trailed off weakly under Rong Qingyao’s gaze. “Alright, I’ll go first then. Call me if you need anything. Remember, I’m always on call.”

Yan Si hurried out of the VIP ward, the door clicking shut softly behind her.

Suppressing his concern for Rong Qingyao, Luo Mijin turned to rearrange the sunflowers in the vase.

“Mijin, could you go buy some food and drinks for Qingyao? You remember what she likes, right?” Luo Zhiwen deliberately sent Luo Mijin away, wanting to speak with Rong Qingyao alone.

She believed Rong Qingyao also wanted to get rid of this single-celled organism.

“Oh, sure,” Luo Mijin glanced at Rong Qingyao with restraint and said softly, “I’ll get you some light congee and soup.”

“Alright, be careful,” Rong Qingyao watched Luo Mijin leave, her gaze lingering for a long time before she finally looked away.

“Qingyao, Mijin has told me about the current situation. No matter what, both she and I want you to be happy.” Luo Zhiwen spoke slowly, sometimes pausing for a long time before continuing.

“I know,” Rong Qingyao felt an inexplicable ache in her chest. She had heard Luo Mijin say this many times before.

Wishing her happiness. But without Luo Mijin, how could she ever be happy?

“Mijin is mentally prepared for this, Qingyao. Please don’t feel like you’ve wronged her. You have every right to pursue your own happiness don’t worry about her.”

“There’s no need to say those things. I understand,” Rong Qingyao sat gently by the hospital bed. The light filtering through the blinds cast a gauzy glow, making the woman’s sickly pallor appear both fragile and ethereally beautiful. “Focus on recovering first. Don’t worry about anything elsejust rest well.”

Noticing the shift in Rong Qingyao’s expression, Luo Zhiwen quickly tried to reach out with her IV-laden hand to stop her.

“Wait!” After those two words, she had to pause to catch her breath, steadying her racing heartbeat and the dizziness clouding her mind.

“Hmm? Is there something else?” Rong Qingyao instinctively feared that Luo Zhiwen, as Luo Mijin’s family, might politely urge her to stay away from Mijin.

After all, that once-secret yet passionate romance had not ended well, and Luo Zhiwen had practically been Luo Mijin’s first protector her number one fan, so to speak.

“Don’t be nervous. Mijin has never blamed you, nor does she have any right to resent you, right?” Luo Zhiwen said with a bitter smile. Regardless of the truth, it was Luo Mijin who had initiated the breakup.

That much was undeniable.

Rong Qingyao closed her eyes briefly, her gaze filled with restraint. She would rather Luo Mijin blamed her, hated her, resented her, anything was better than this indifference.

Perhaps in this relationship, she had been the only one who wanted it to last forever, unyielding to the end.

“Back then, she had no choice but to break up with you. I hope you can let go of that burden and bravely move toward the happiness you deserve.” Luo Zhiwen’s voice was soft through the oxygen tube, but the sincerity in her eyes was unmistakable. “Don’t let the past hold you back anymore. You’re a good person, you deserve the best in this world. Mijin thinks so too.”

A blur of light and shadow swam before Rong Qingyao’s eyes. She could barely control her body, her eyes widening abruptly, pupils filled with disbelief.

“Zhiwen, what did you say?”

“You deserve the best. Don’t let the past weigh you down, let go and embrace the future.”

The woman’s usually cool face was tinged with a faint flush, her lips crimson like blood, her brow tightly furrowed. “Not that part.”

She was almost too afraid to ask again, her voice trembling uncontrollably. “You just said… she had no choice but to break up with me?”

“Yes, it was unavoidable. You can imagine what kind of domineering patriarch our grandfather was. After your relationship was discovered, he used every connection to tear you apart. I believe you’ve already experienced that. Besides, Mijin is a fool, the stubborn type who doesn’t know how to bend. There’s no way she could have outmaneuvered Grandfather.”

“I know, of course I know, how could I not know?” Rong Qingyao repeated neurotically, her cold, gaunt face growing paler, her mirror-like pupils resembling a shattered lake surface.

Every word Luo Mijin’s grandfather had said to her was etched into her memory, too deeply engraved to ever forget.

Such a feudal patriarch had initially seemed reasonable, even democratic, generously offering her, a worthless poor student, two choices as if bestowing mercy.

Of course, she didn’t believe Luo Mijin was the type to be fickle or toy with emotions. She loved her, so she trusted her unconditionally.

That was why she had searched for Luo Mijin every single day going to the Luo family home, to school, to abandoned bars, to every place she could think of.

She messaged Luo Mijin  daily texts, WeChat, phone calls, waiting night after night for her to log in on the gaming console.

Luo Zhiwen felt somewhat dazed. Her body, having been in a coma for over three years, was still terribly weak, but her voice remained unhurried and soothing.

“It’s good that you know. Don’t let it fester in your heart anymore. When you get married, both Mijin and I will come to bless you.”

“No, I want to know the specifics of why Luo Mijin had no choice.” The chaotic thoughts worsened Rong Qingyao’s headache as moonlight spilled over her porcelain skin.

“I was abroad and don’t know the details, but it’s obvious Mijin must have had no other option,” Luo Zhiwen said, hoping this might offer Rong Qingyao some comfort. “If you want to know, why not just ask Mijin directly.”

She added weakly, “But that blockhead probably won’t tell you. Pressuring her would only backfire.”

Yet Rong Qingyao clung to these words like a lifeline, something scorching and bitter in her chest threatening to burst forth.

She was torn between two extremes, one where Luo Mijin had been forced to break up with her but still loved her, and another where it didn’t matter why, because the past was the past.

**

The next day, Luo Mijin was scheduled to perform at the bar again. Rong Qingyao canceled all her work and deliberately watched the girl from a distance, as if separated by a shore.

She desperately wanted to ask Luo Mijin, what had really happened back then.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t asked before, she just never got an answer.

If Luo Mijin had been forced into it, why couldn’t she just say so when they reunited?

Had she stopped loving her, making it unnecessary to explain?

Love isn’t something one can control. If it’s gone, even asking for a reason is pointless.

A thousand speculations swirled in Rong Qingyao’s mind, tearing at every nerve, leaving her in agony.

She even wanted to rush onto the stage, drag down the woman who was still drumming recklessly, and force a confrontation, even if it meant reopening wounds, shattering dignity, making everything irreparable.

Anything was better than this endless cycle of guessing, swinging between desperate hope and despair like a madwoman.

Old love, past vows was it utterly foolish to try and reclaim what was lost?

Perhaps this was her fate to cling to painful memories, always yearning for things that belonged to those unwilling to grant them to her.

Rong Qingyao’s gaze, looking down from above, held a confusion that saw through suffering.

Luo Mijin was somewhat distracted while drumming today. The thought of her sister Luo Zhiwen waking up kept bringing a smile to her face.

It was one of the best pieces of news she had received in years.

If only there had been someone to share a drink with, she would have gladly downed a toast.

So when she received a letter from Miss Fox after the performance, she seemed a little happier than usual.

[Fox: I’ve been too busy lately, so I haven’t been able to contact you at the bar for a while.]

[Riddle: It’s fine, you’re too polite.]

[Fox: Have you ever been in love before?]

Luo Mijin sensed something odd about Fox’s tone her questions were crossing boundaries more than usual. But out of courtesy, she answered truthfully.

[Riddle: Once.]

[Fox: Maybe you could give me some advice? Should I try to win back an ex who might not love me anymore?]

[Riddle: I… I don’t know. I’m sorry, I can’t offer any advice on that.]

[Fox: It’s alright. I’m just desperate. Anything new with you lately?]

[Riddle: Someone very important to me woke up. It’s the happiest thing that’s happened to me in seven years. Because she’s gotten much better, I’m so happy, I wish everyone could be happy too.]

[Fox: Congratulations. Things will only get better from now on.]

[Riddle: Thank you. I need to make some decisions about my music, and I feel like you’re a rational and empathetic person who might have good advice for me.]

Rong Qingyao was still pondering whether the contents of Luo Mijin’s letter had anything to do with Wei Xiashuang when another message arrived.

[Riddle: So, would you be willing to meet me? In real life, face to face?]

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