A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 47.1

The chandeliers in Rong Qingyao’s private room had been recently renovated. At her request, a row of carved cherrywood bookshelves had been newly installed.

When she received Luo Mijin’s reply, Rong Qingyao was holding the book Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, having just reached the tenth page.

After reading the letter’s contents, Rong Qingyao immediately grew tense, scrambling to formulate a reasonable excuse for refusal.

If Luo Mijin were to discover that Fox was her, would she be met with disdain, or would it be brushed off as nothing?

Rong Qingyao didn’t dare take the risk.

All manner of hatred, love, resentment, obsession, and desire flowed through her body, aching so deeply it left scars on her bones.

Even reading no longer held her attention as it once did. Burdened with worries, she became like a mountain fruit battered by rain more withdrawn, more despondent.

Soon after, Luo Mijin placed the shelled sunflower seeds she had prepared for Luo Zhiwen into a clean bag. She washed her hands thoroughly, yet there was still no reply from Fox.

Had she been too abrupt?

Luo Mijin wasn’t entirely sure. She had thought her relationship with Fox had reached a point where meeting in person was appropriate.

She was just about to write another letter, apologizing and saying that meeting wasn’t necessary that she had been too presumptuous when a server knocked on the door, holding an envelope.

Luo Mijin unfolded the letter.

[Fox: I’m sorry, but I think meeting in person might not be the best choice. If we were to meet, you’d probably just find it troubling and disappointing.]

Luo Mijin couldn’t quite believe it. Why did Fox’s words come across as so self-deprecating?

The band members had even claimed Fox was a beauty, the epitome of a social elite… though, given that those musicians spent their days drinking and fooling around, they’d probably never even seen Fox and were just spouting nonsense as usual.

But she considered Fox a friend and friends should encourage and support each other.

[Riddle: Don’t say that. You’re being too hard on yourself. I think you’re honest, reliable, mature, and insightful, how could I possibly be disappointed to meet you?]

To Luo Mijin’s surprise, Fox’s reply came swiftly this time and was utterly jaw-dropping.

[Fox: Thank you for the kind words. The truth is, I’ve been losing a lot of hair lately and don’t want to be seen. I look terrible.]

[Riddle: I’m not the type to judge by appearances. You don’t need to feel burdened.]

[Fox: But I am. You’re too beautiful, when you play the drums, you shine like a sun that never sets, while I’m just a mole that can’t bear the light. Meeting you would make me feel terribly inferior, so please forgive this small insecurity of mine.]

For the first time in her life, Luo Mijin encountered someone who so bluntly admitted their own inferiority complex. She was at a loss, hesitating several times before finally drafting a response.

[Riddle: I’m sorry, I was being inconsiderate. I shouldn’t have rashly suggested meeting without respecting your feelings. Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay? Honestly, being pen pals is more than enough.]

After sending the letter, Luo Mijin began packing her things, preparing to visit Luo Zhiwen in the private hospital’s special care ward.

Luo Zhiwen had been recovering well lately and had started clamoring for freshly roasted thin-shelled sunflower seeds, along with Sichuan peppercorns from Chengdu and extra spices.

She had no choice but to scour the internet for the ingredients, roast them herself, shell the seeds, and deliver them to Luo Zhiwen in a bag.

Now she spent most of her time at the hospital, greatly reducing her chances of running into Rong Qingyao.

As the engagement deadline approached, this should have been a good thing.

The bar corridor was brightly lit, with powerful electronic music reverberating through the space, making the floor tremble faintly.

A waiter in white happened to emerge from another room and, seeing Luo Mijin about to leave, immediately handed her a letter.

“Riddle, a letter from Miss Fox.”

“I thought we were done talking,” Luo Mijin muttered in surprise under her breath, quickly tearing open the envelope.

[Fox: It’s not as serious as you made it out to be, it’s my own issue. Actually, I’d also like to have a more convenient way to stay in touch with you. Maybe we could exchange WeChat? That way, if anything comes up, you can reach me faster. My WeChat ID is…]

Luo Mijin wrote down her own WeChat ID and had the waiter deliver it. As the private room’s door opened and closed, she caught a glimpse of a woman’s jade-like calves beneath the hem of a qipao embroidered with peony patterns, soft, graceful, and breathtakingly beautiful.

Someone like this actually had hair loss? And was so insecure she didn’t dare meet people?

Luo Mijin scratched her head, finding it utterly bizarre, as if it were some strange theatrical twist.

For a fleeting moment, Luo Mijin felt an odd sense of familiarity with the elegant figure inside the room. Unconsciously, she drifted closer to the door, only to be blocked by the waiter.

“Riddle, this guest has requested her identity and appearance remain confidential. Without her permission, we can’t disturb her.”

Remembering her mute persona, Luo Mijin didn’t ask any questions, merely nodding before turning away.

Out of kindness, the waiter whispered a solemn warning:

“Riddle, I advise you not to get too deep into this. The guests who come to our bar to have fun, the ones who can spend that much money in one night are either rich or powerful, and most of them are already married. They’re just playing around out of post-marriage loneliness nothing will ever come of it. There was a band member once, also very beautiful, who fell for a married woman. Both of them suffered terribly, and in the end, they made a pact to die together by charcoal burning. Don’t throw your life away like that.”

Stunned by this heartfelt warning, Luo Mijin hurriedly agreed, too embarrassed to glance toward the door again.

She found herself ridiculous, every time she saw someone vaguely familiar, she thought it was Rong Qingyao.

**

At the private hospital, after this period of post-surgical brain recovery, Luo Zhiwen had been able to remove some of the tubes. Aside from occasional heart discomfort, she was doing well.

The doctors and nurses were so meticulous in their care, as if terrified she might develop any complications, that it almost felt like being back in the Luo family.

She raised the backrest of her bed and sat weakly by the window, letting the breeze in as she gazed at the distant scenery.

When she heard the sound of the hospital room door opening, she didn’t even need to turn around to know it was Luo Mijin.

“Zhiwen, I brought you fresh sunflower seeds, lots of books to pass the time, a gaming console, a computer… Once you’re discharged, we’ll go and—” Luo Mijin’s words abruptly cut off as she took in the room, now filled with snacks, fruits, and even a completely new set of bedsheets and blankets.

All around, plush toys of various shapes and styles crowded the space.

“You’re too slow. Sister Qingyao is much more thoughtful than you,” Luo Zhiwen yawned. “If I waited for you to arrange things for me, the opportunity would’ve long passed.”

The entire hospital room had been completely revamped according to Zhiwen’s preferences bed sheets and pajamas all replaced with silk, dinner consisting of light, nutritious, anti-inflammatory foods, low in carbs but rich in vitamins and high-quality protein.

Every precaution the doctors had mentioned was meticulously taken care of.

Luo Mijin: “…”

“They’ve also adjusted all the rehabilitation equipment downstairs to match my height and weight parameters. Before the heart surgery, they’ll arrange suitable exercises and diet to get me into optimal condition for the operation while we wait for a compatible donor.”

“Do you want me to accompany you? I should be able to make time,” Luo Mijin immediately offered, willing to cancel her job interview to stay with Zhiwen.

“I’m just letting you know. I don’t need your company.”

“Will someone else be with you? Classmates? Close friends?” Luo Mijin thought of the stream of visitors who had come to see Zhiwen over the past few days.

“None of them. They’re just acquaintances making polite gestures. Sister Qingyao will accompany me during rehab, and we’ve planned to have a nutritious patient’s lunch together afterward.”

Luo Mijin’s brow furrowed. After several hesitant pauses, she cautiously said:

“Zhiwen, don’t you think you might be inconveniencing her too much?”

“Not at all. You’re overthinking it. Your breakup is between you two, my friendship with Sister Qingyao remains strong. Who else should she be good to if not me? Besides, she’s arranging my donor heart and the surgery details. Of course she’ll take full responsibility. There’s no need for you to worry.”

Luo Mijin silently sat down, picked up an apple, peeled it, cut it into small pieces, and placed them in a bowl.

“I’ve been thinking now that you’re awake, even though the heart surgery carries significant risks, I’ll move out of her place beforehand. We’ll find somewhere we both like to live.”

Understanding her sister’s intention, Luo Zhiwen voiced her full support. “Sure, I’ll follow your lead. We’ll repay Sister Qingyao together for the money we owe her.”

She then smiled, “That is, if the surgery succeeds and I don’t have severe rejection symptoms. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”

“I know,” Luo Mijin visibly tensed at the mention of surgery.

“Why so nervous? Honestly, where’s your backbone? At worst, we’ll just be separated by life and death. You can join me decades later, I’ll wait for you. Just remember to visit my grave during Qingming Festival and burn some game consoles, computers, or good TV series for me.”

Luo Mijin: “…”

“Alright,” Zhiwen knew when to stop, especially since her sister had always been terrible at understanding humor. “I’m joking. I’ll do my best to recover. We still have band performances to do together, I remember.”

“Yes, you must remember,” Luo Mijin replied, still subdued but forcing a smile to hide it from her sister.

Zhiwen saw right through the poor acting. “I need to sleep now still very weak. You should go.”

“Okay,” Luo Mijin agreed verbally but lingered until Zhiwen fell asleep before finally leaving the hospital.

Yan Si was already waiting in the car downstairs at the hospital. These days, unless Yan Si was away on business trips with Rong Qingyao, she would basically follow Luo Mijin everywhere.

When they returned to the villa, Rong Qingyao was nowhere to be seen. Yan Si specifically explained that President Rong had to accompany the old master of the Cen family for dinner that evening, so she wouldn’t be back home until very late.

Perhaps because Luo Zhiwen’s words these past few days laced with regret about her and Rong Qingyao had been too intense, it had indirectly affected her.

She had previously commanded herself to quit all dreams about Rong Qingyao, yet now they were growing worse, almost every night bringing back memories of the past.

The next day was the weekend. Luo Mijin returned from the private hospital to the villa to fetch some fresh clothes and new books to help Luo Zhiwen pass the time.

Just as she stepped through the door and passed the living room, she noticed Rong Qingyao sitting on the sofa, dressed in a white qipao embroidered with peonies, elegant and gentle.

She was cradling Mint Candy in her arms. The cat seemed to notice Luo Mijin before Rong Qingyao did, lifting its head from its curled-up, half-asleep position, stretching lazily, and letting out two quick meows in Luo Mijin’s direction.

This roused Rong Qingyao, who had been resting with her eyes closed. She released Mint Candy and leaned back against the sofa armrest, her waist soft and supple, a pink diamond necklace dangling against her fair neck, her bare back exposed like a mermaid reclining on a reef at night.

“You’re back?”

Luo Mijin had no choice but to steel herself and greet Rong Qingyao. “Hello. I came back to get some clothes. I’ll head back to the hospital soon to keep Zhiwen company.”

Rong Qingyao glanced up at her briefly. Just as Luo Mijin took the first step up the stairs, she suddenly spoke.

“Luo Mijin, come here. Sit beside me.”

“Is something the matter?”

“Yes, there’s something I want to ask you,” Rong Qingyao said, lips curving into a smile, her gaze deep and inscrutable. She interlaced her fingers and casually adjusted the blanket draped over her.

Luo Mijin obediently sat down on the sofa, hands clasped over her abdomen, looking somewhat stiff.

“What is it?”

Mint Candy had already jumped down from Rong Qingyao’s lap, darting back and forth between its two owners, one moment tapping Luo Mijin’s knee with a soft paw, the next rubbing its head against Rong Qingyao’s calf, clearly eager to play.

“You’re so playful,” Rong Qingyao murmured, bending down to pat Mint Candy’s head, eliciting a sweet, high-pitched meow. Unable to resist the kitten’s charm, she got up to fetch a ball and tossed it to entertain Mint Candy.

The ball rolled to Luo Mijin’s feet. Meeting Mint Candy’s wide, sparkling eyes, she had no choice but to pick it up and toss it back to Rong Qingyao, sending the excited cat dashing back and forth between them.

This continued until Mint Candy, panting and exhausted, flopped onto the milky-white marble steps and refused to move.

“Mint Candy seems lonely,” Luo Mijin remarked after half an hour of play, a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead, her striking silver hair drooping over her brows.

Rong Qingyao’s cheeks were flushed, and she coughed lightly. “I’m usually too busy with work to spend much time with it. It has to entertain itself, running around and biting balls like a puppy.”

Seeing Mint Candy sprawled on its back, Luo Mijin couldn’t resist rubbing its belly, prompting the kitten to kick its legs like a rabbit.

“Mint Candy,” Rong Qingyao warned, raising her voice slightly. The cat immediately froze obediently. The woman smiled meaningfully. “If it’s too lonely, it should find a suitable companion.”

Luo Mijin withdrew her hand from stroking the kitten’s belly and sat on the sofa, lowering her gaze to the floor.

Rong Qingyao had initially intended to be direct and ask Luo Mijin outright whether she had been forced to break up with her back then.

But considering that Luo Mijin hadn’t shared any hardships even if she had them, Rong Qingyao worried that being too blunt might startle her and drive her away. So she took a roundabout approach:

“Jinhui mentioned she saw you performing on the drums at Tinkle Tea the other night.”

“Mhm, I’m pretty much a regular performer at that bar now. Actually, if… if you’d like, you could come watch with friends sometime.”

“Alright, I’ll drop by if I have time,” Rong Qingyao replied with a breezy smile. “Jinhui told me you’re quite popular and get along well with your bandmates.”

“It’s alright. They’re not the type to pry more interested in drinking than small talk.” Luo Mijin leaned back against the sofa, unconsciously tugging at the long tassels of the gold-embroidered cushion.

“But why do you maintain a mute persona around your bandmates?” Rong Qingyao stood up to pour them both cups of Longjing tea, steam curling between them.

She advanced step by step, each question deliberate and poised.

Luo Mijin had prepared answers in advance and replied smoothly, “You know I’ve never been good with people. Playing mute just makes things easier.”

“Jinhui mentioned it might be because you had aphasia before. Is that true?” Rong Qingyao didn’t hide the fact that she had investigated Luo Mijin.

In truth, she had spent years desperately digging for information, but the Luo family’s secrecy was airtight, leaving her with only scraps.

Too many suspicions remained unverified. Even Luo Zhiwen, as a witness, had only offered statements Rong Qingyao had doubted back then without any evidence to back them up.

Simply put, all of them had been too far removed from Luo Mijin’s life.

Startled that Rong Qingyao had uncovered so much, Luo Mijin tensed instinctively, her hands fidgeting uncertainly as she stammered out a reply:

“You know how I am… I’ve never been good at talking to people. Mild aphasia is normal. Who knows, other issues might pop up later. It’s normal, perfectly normal.”

Though Luo Mijin tried to mask the nervous tics of lying, Rong Qingyao immediately noticed her shrinking posture and rapid blinking telltale habits.

“When did the aphasia start?” The woman leaned forward slightly, her jade-like skin flawless, her cool eyes unrelenting in their persistence.

Support