A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 48.1

“Qingyao, if you’re this seriously ill, should I call a doctor for you?” Wei Xiashuang took a sip of green tea from her cup, savoring its rich, refreshing aroma that was impossible to ignore.

“It’s an old issue. Calling a doctor won’t help,” Rong Qingyao replied softly, as if indifferent to her own condition. “Have another cup of green tea. The weather has been too dry lately.”

In truth, her head was pounding unbearably, and even breathing felt labored. But she wouldn’t relent until her goal was achieved, she wouldn’t let Wei Xiashuang take Luo Mijin away from her again and again.

Human sympathy was surprisingly easy to exploit, especially when she appeared so “considerate.”

“Luo Mijin, you and Xiashuang should go discuss your work. I’ll leave the light on for you tonight. I’ll be fine alone at home.”

She didn’t look at Luo Mijin, instead spinning the small green teacup between her fingers. Her cheeks were flushed, yet her expression remained innocent and naive, like a fledgling bird with broken wings so pure it evoked pity.

Luo Mijin frowned, studying Rong Qingyao intently before turning to Wei Xiashuang apologetically.

“Xiashuang, let’s reschedule for another time.”

Though she had anticipated this outcome, Wei Xiashuang couldn’t hide her disappointment, maintaining only the bare minimum of social courtesy.

“Mm, I suppose so. Qingyao really should have someone by her side, especially since she refuses to see a doctor. She needs company.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Luo Mijin apologized again.

Wei Xiashuang cradled the warm teacup in her hands, forcing a smile as she feigned concern for Rong Qingyao.

“But I think it would be better if Yan Si came to help as well. Xiao Luo has never been anyone’s assistant or girlfriend, what if she can’t manage alone?”

“True, but Yan Si is on leave. We can’t infringe on her legal rights, right?” Rong Qingyao smiled faintly at Wei Xiashuang, her sickly pallor only enhancing her striking beauty. “That’s why I suggested Luo Mijin go with you. I’ll be fine alone.”

Wei Xiashuang gritted her teeth but had no choice but to agree. “You’re right. But we could call Scott. As your fiancé, he should take responsibility for caring for you, shouldn’t he? I’ll phone him.”

At those words, the expressions of both women in the living room shifted. Rong Qingyao’s demeanor cooled noticeably as she replied flatly,

“He’s busy. No need to bother him.”

“I can take care of her alone,” Luo Mijin blurted out, only realizing afterward that her reaction might have been too strong.

“Oh? Qingyao, are you and your fiancé having a lovers’ quarrel?” Wei Xiashuang teased.

Rong Qingyao merely smiled, unwilling to engage.

Wei Xiashuang then turned back to Luo Mijin, her face brightening into a radiant smile, her voice turning sweet and coquettish. “Xiao Luo, you must prepare well for what I mentioned earlier. The producer at the studio is really impressed with you, and there’s an opening to record an album soon.”

Luo Mijin pressed her lips together. “Mm, I’ll think about it. An album is a bit of a stretch for someone at my level. You’re too kind, Xiashuang.”

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself. You have great musical sense and bar performance experience. If I practice with you, what’s the problem?”

“That would be too much trouble for you,” Luo Mijin politely declined.

“Not at all. For you, it’s no trouble. You know how much I admire…”

Before Wei Xiashuang could finish, Rong Qingyao’s weak coughing interrupted her. The woman coughed until her face flushed red, her long, beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Luo Mijin hurried to the kitchen to fetch Rong Qingyao a glass of warm water, asking with concern, “Are you okay? Should I take you to the hospital?”

“No, I don’t want to go to the hospital. I hate hospitals. You should know that,” Rong Qingyao said coyly, shooting Luo Mijin a sidelong glance.

Seeing Luo Mijin nod subconsciously, Wei Xiashuang was left bewildered. “What do you mean? How would Xiao Luo know why you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

Rong Qingyao’s voice was weak, but she smiled gently. “It’s a little secret.”

Wei Xiashuang looked up at Luo Mijin, expecting an answer, but Luo Mijin lowered her head, unwilling to respond. She didn’t understand why Rong Qingyao was bringing up the past, a simple “I hate doctors” would have sufficed.

“I want to go upstairs and rest for a while,” Rong Qingyao murmured weakly, closing her eyes like a delicate, ailing beauty who evoked pity.

Recognizing this as Rong Qingyao’s way of dismissing her, Wei Xiashuang felt a surge of frustration. She couldn’t fathom what this soon-to-be-engaged woman was trying to do now.

Back when Rong Qingyao had debuted in the entertainment industry as an unknown, she had skyrocketed to fame overnight. Immediately after, she ambitiously expanded her business empire , investing, forming alliances, acquiring companies leaving no stone unturned…

Now, having achieved success, was she finally indulging in personal whims?

“Xiashuang, let me walk you out. We can discuss the album another time,” Luo Mijin said, anxious about Rong Qingyao’s condition and unwilling to let Wei Xiashuang linger in thought.

“Alright. I hope the next time we meet, Qingyao will have fully recovered.”

Rong Qingyao lifted her eyelids, her dark eyes reflecting a coldness like a snowfield, yet her tone remained gentle and refined. “Thank you for your kindness. I hope so too.”

Meanwhile, as Luo Mijin escorted Wei Xiashuang out, Yan Si, who was at home binge-watching dramas and snacking on boneless chicken feet, received a text from Rong Qingyao.

[Rong Qingyao: Yan Si, you don’t need to come to work the day after tomorrow. Take another week off. Don’t worry about anything.]

[Yan Si: But aren’t you attending the Starlight Night in three days for the red carpet? If I don’t go with you, the manager will kill me, she’ll bombard me with calls!]

[Rong Qingyao: Someone else will accompany me. Enjoy your break. I’ll handle the manager for you.]

Yan Si bolted upright from her sprawled position and immediately replied, “Who’s going with you?” But Rong Qingyao didn’t respond. Realization dawned on Yan Si, Rong Qingyao was telling her not to be a third wheel and to “reluctantly” enjoy another week off.

After seeing Wei Xiashuang off outside the villa, Luo Mijin walked back, her mind in turmoil. She wondered if she had made a mistake.

Maybe she should have run far away from Rong Qingyao from the very beginning. The closer she got, the more it hurt.

After adjusting her mood, Luo Mijin stepped back into the villa. Rong Qingyao was still sitting obediently on the sofa, just like before like those times in the cramped, worn-out rental apartment, waiting for her to return from competitions.

Such illusions were too many and too frequent, enough to shatter one’s sanity.

“Why didn’t you go upstairs to rest?” Luo Mijin walked into the living room, avoiding eye contact with Rong Qingyao.

“Mm, I’ll go now,” Rong Qingyao removed the blanket, her thin spaghetti-strap nightgown fluttering in the breeze, the soft curves beneath the sheer fabric clearly visible.

She tried to stand up several times but couldn’t quite manage it, swaying unsteadily before murmuring to herself in frustration, “My head’s so dizzy, I can’t see the way. What should I do?”

Luo Mijin stood rooted to the spot. After several seconds of silent standoff, she was the one who relented.

“I’ll carry you up.”

“Okay, thank you so much,” Rong Qingyao sat properly on the sofa, tilting her head up to look at Luo Mijin. “You’re even stronger than before you’re holding me so steadily.”

“You’ve gotten thinner,” Luo Mijin turned her face away, pulling her sleeves down to cover her arms and hands, minimizing skin contact with Rong Qingyao as much as possible.

Noticing Luo Mijin’s subtle evasion, Rong Qingyao chuckled inwardly but pretended not to notice, instead burying her face in the crook of Luo Mijin’s neck and shoulder, breathing softly.

The woman’s body was supple as if boneless, her snow-white skin visible beneath the solid-colored nightgown, exuding wave after wave of snowy fragrance. Her warm, scented breath brushed lightly against Luo Mijin’s neck.

Luo Mijin’s thoughts drifted uncontrollably, as if she had split into different versions of herself from different times. Holding this soft, fragrant beauty in her arms, she was the carefree college student again; yet the moment she faced the cold reality, she plummeted back onto the snow-covered ground of loss.

There was no escape.

Rong Qingyao obediently nestled under the covers. Seeing Luo Mijin turn to leave, she deliberately whimpered, “You’re leaving already?”

“Ah, no, I’m just going to check if the congee is ready. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

“And after you come back?”

Stunned by Rong Qingyao’s husky, sensual voice, Luo Mijin tentatively asked in return, “Is there anything else you want?”

“I want a bedtime story. And it’s too dark, I can’t sleep, and my head hurts,” Rong Qingyao lowered her thick, dark lashes, casting a beautiful yet cool shadow.

“I’ll check the congee, then find a storybook to read to you,” Luo Mijin rarely indulged herself in staying by Rong Qingyao’s side, like every person on the eve of execution, savoring the last moments.

Rong Qingyao extended a fair wrist from under the blanket and picked up the book by the bedside. “Just read this one. The Nightingale and the Rose. No need to look for another.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

For the rest of the night, Luo Mijin barely managed to leave Rong Qingyao’s bedroom. Every time she tried to step out for a breath of air, the woman found some way to keep her by her side.

In the end, she had no choice but to sleep slumped by the bedside all night.

**

By the next day, Luo Mijin was so entangled with Rong Qingyao that she had no time for anything else. Aside from the few hours spent accompanying Luo Zhiwen at the hospital, she stayed with Rong Qingyao the entire time.

Returning from the hospital, she heard from the cleaning lady that Rong Qingyao was waiting for her in the backyard garden.

Worried that the woman, still recovering from illness, might catch a chill outside, she had no choice but to go looking for her.

The backyard of this house was unbelievably vast, with lush greenery that created a landscape transitioning from alpine meadows to lakeside mountain views. A winding stream gurgled softly, and as the sun set, a thin mist began to rise.

Luo Mijin wasn’t very familiar with the backyard, she usually only wandered around a smaller garden so it took her some effort to find Rong Qingyao.

The woman was wrapped in a gray knitted sweater, her complexion pale, though she seemed slightly better than she had the day before.

“Um, why aren’t you resting in your room?”

“It’s too stuffy. I needed some fresh air,” Rong Qingyao said, naturally grabbing Luo Mijin’s wrist. “Come with me.”

Luo Mijin wanted to pull away, but the woman’s palm was warm and soft, making it impossible to resist.

“Okay.”

“Didn’t you say Mint Candy was lonely at home by herself? I found her a new playmate.” Rong Qingyao led Luo Mijin along the garden path, deep into the backyard.

Under the pale sky, a pure white pony was nibbling at the tender green grass. Hearing footsteps, it pranced over with a cheerful clatter of hooves.

“Won’t they be a bit mismatched in size?” Luo Mijin stared at the little companion, her eyes practically glowing.

The pony’s white coat was glossy and sleek, its pale golden mane fluttering in the wind, fluffy and smooth.

“Probably not. Mint Candy is well-behaved she won’t bite the pony. Besides, she’s a filly, gentle by nature, and she’ll grow taller with time.”

“Can I ride her?”

Rong Qingyao studied the pony, which was about the same height as Luo Mijin, and thought for a moment. “Maybe, or you could wait until she grows a bit more. Didn’t you learn horseback riding before?”

“They sent me to lessons for a while when I was little, but later they didn’t want me going out much,” Luo Mijin said, suddenly realizing how much this sounded like old friends reminiscing.

“If you want to pick it up again now, you can anytime.”

The pony circled the two of them, its hooves tapping lightly, making an adorable clopping sound. When it stopped, it blinked its big, curious eyes at them, innocent yet clever.

“She looks like a mythical pony pure white, with wings on her back,” Luo Mijin said childishly.

Rong Qingyao froze for a moment. Their home had once held a pair of feathered wings, a fifteen-yuan trinket from a night market in Yiwu.

Cheap, white, with a hook to hang on the wall.

Luo Mijin had called them the wings of their dreams believing she would fly toward freedom, while Rong Qingyao would soar to greater heights.

Back then, she had thought freedom and greater heights were inseparable. Little did she know it would be more like “sharing the same moon across a thousand miles” bodies separated by vast distances, hearts out of sync, just like billions of others on this planet, gazing at the same moon.

Watching the light dance in Luo Mijin’s eyes, she smiled softly. “She doesn’t have a name yet. You should give her one.”

Luo Mijin realized that being around Rong Qingyao made her too happy, it was an addiction she needed to quit.

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