A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 50.1

After saying these words, Rong Qingyao didn’t hesitate, her tone growing even firmer as she spoke:

“Are you at Wei Xiashuang’s place?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Alright, that’s fine,” the woman forced her voice to sound indifferent. “Wait for me.”

“I think it’s better if we don’t see each other anymore.”

Luo Mijin heard Rong Qingyao’s words clearly and, after a moment of contemplation, delivered the conclusion she had reached after a day of quiet reflection.

She didn’t know what Rong Qingyao was thinking perhaps Scott’s betrayal had driven the woman to lose her rationality, leading her to do so many things that could be misunderstood.

“Why? Does seeing me trouble you?” The anger in Rong Qingyao’s chest miraculously subsided. She wanted to hear what else Luo Mijin had to say.

The background noise on Luo Mijin’s end was chaotic, with countless people coming and going, footsteps and voices blending together as if she were in another world.

“Rong Qingyao, I shouldn’t have agreed to that dating arrangement. I was out of my mind. How you handle your emotional issues is your business, I shouldn’t have interfered.”

Luo Mijin felt she had overestimated herself. Unable to bear seeing Rong Qingyao suffer even the slightest grievance, she had nearly gotten herself entangled.

Call her cowardly, selfish, or weak the closer she got to Rong Qingyao, the more it hurt. In her over twenty years of life, the frequency and intensity of pain had been far too much and far too deep.

Please forgive her for being afraid of pain, for running away.

“Luo Mijin, didn’t I tell you to wait for me to come back?”

Rong Qingyao didn’t understand what Luo Mijin was misunderstanding that she had become someone careless, irresponsible in bed, seeking only pleasure?

“Yeah, if it’s nothing major, we don’t need to meet,” Luo Mijin chuckled. “You have your own affairs, and I have mine.”

Thinking of Wei Xiashuang’s attentiveness toward Luo Mijin, Rong Qingyao’s brows furrowed slightly, her already precarious rationality on the verge of collapse.

Whenever it came to matters involving Luo Mijin, she was prone to acting emotionally, her judgment clouded by jealousy, pain, and long-standing distrust.

“You mean you and Wei Xiashuang have something going on?”

Luo Mijin was baffled by Rong Qingyao’s questioning. Whether it was because she had always struggled with understanding emotions, she couldn’t comprehend the purpose behind Rong Qingyao’s actions.

What she and Wei Xiashuang did, whatever was between them, had little to do with Rong Qingyao.

“I don’t understand what you’re asking,” Luo Mijin’s voice was laced with exhaustion. “Rong Qingyao, once everything is settled, Zhiwen and I will probably return to our home country, back to the city where we used to live.”

“To avoid me?” Rong Qingyao traced the dark gold fountain pen beside her, her face obscured in the dim light, yet her gaze burned intensely.

Even through the phone, Luo Mijin lowered her head guiltily, instinctively flipping through the sheet music in front of her, her eyes empty and unfocused. She was lying again.

“No, I originally came to L City for Zhiwen’s treatment. Now that she’s much better, it’s only natural we return, home. Don’t worry, I won’t lose contact with you. I’ll repay all the expenses bit by bit, with bank interest or even higher rates if you prefer. I’ll pay it back slowly.”

“Go on. What else?” Rong Qingyao reached out to touch the occasional raindrops drifting past the window, her expression inscrutable.

“Perhaps one winter, I’ll come to L City for a trip with Zhiwen again, and we can gather like old friends, chatting away. Maybe by then, I…”

Luo Mijin wanted to say she might have completely let go of Rong Qingyao, able to face the woman’s happy marriage with someone else with equanimity, but the thought vanished as quickly as it came.

No matter how much she lied to herself, she knew she couldn’t do it.

Rong Qingyao walked into the courtyard, her pale porcelain face moving through the night and moonlight, her skin possessing a jade-like crystalline quality that seemed cold to the touch.

The diffused moonlight reflected off the lake’s surface, mirroring her current pensiveness, purity, and sorrow, like watching a blurry zoetrope through a cinematic filter.

That intense feeling of loss she had once experienced assaulted her again. Perhaps she had been wrong, too indecisive, clinging to ridiculous pride, letting it drag her around in circles, twisting their relationship into knots.

“Luo Mijin, you love making decisions on your own and then directly informing others, don’t you?”

Even if Rong Qingyao hadn’t uncovered the truth behind their breakup, based on her understanding of Luo Mijin, there were definitely many hidden details.

She would uncover all of them, why Luo Mijin stopped playing chess, why there were scars on her wrist, why she never married, why she disappeared for seven years…

Hit squarely by the accuracy of this observation, Luo Mijin found it hard to breathe. Rong Qingyao wasn’t wrong, perhaps it had been her own momentary lapse in judgment that had led to their seven-year separation.

She had believed it was the best way to protect Rong Qingyao, and it had seemingly worked.

After that, Rong Qingyao pursued her master’s degree abroad, reaping the rewards of her efforts and fulfilling her life’s ambitions.

If Rong Qingyao had joined her in defying her grandfather back then, Luo Mijin was certain he would have done anything to retaliate.

Was it worth giving up half a lifetime’s efforts and lifelong dreams for someone as insignificant as Luo Mijin?

As for missing Rong Qingyao’s flight at the airport that was simply fate.

Nothing in life ever goes perfectly as planned.

She had accepted it, surrendered to it as long as Rong Qingyao was happy and fulfilled, that was enough.

“Rong Qingyao, you can be happy and fulfilled without me. You can choose someone better,” Luo Mijin thought perhaps it was Rong Qingyao’s strong, perfectionist nature at play.

The trauma of witnessing her mother’s suicide had left an indelible shadow in Rong Qingyao’s heart, a perpetual dampness, an eternal rainy season that made her need everything under her control to feel even slightly at peace.

So, Rong Qingyao needed Luo Mijin by her side, never beyond her control, a kind of completeness in its own way.

“Luo Mijin, you’re just being presumptuous,” Rong Qingyao said softly, eyes slightly closed. “From the beginning until now, you thought the decisions you made were best for me, but you actually knew nothing.”

Without waiting for Luo Mijin’s response, she continued:

“But I’ve said it’s fine. I’ll teach you slowly, how to make decisions, how to discuss things with me.”

Suddenly, she remembered their days living together, how Luo Mijin had loved the sour plum soup she made. In their small, humble rented kitchen, they would use their freshly earned wages to buy the last few pounds of bayberries from the market.

Removing the pits one by one, she boiled them in a pot. When the steam curled up, they kissed without distinction between each other. The sour plum soup tasted more like sour plum wine, the wispy heat evaporating within the depths of her memory.

Back then, her heart ached too aching for Luo Mijin, a young lady accustomed to luxury, who had been forced to sever ties with her family and cut off her financial support, left with no choice but to endure hardship alongside her.

Luo Mijin’s grandfather, Luo Anbang, had even leveraged his connections to bar her from official Go tournaments, preventing her not only from earning prize money but also freezing all the winnings previously deposited in her bank account.

And so, she threw herself into studying and working, preparing her graduate school applications for their alma mater. A bright future lay ahead, she was adept at turning even a one percent possibility into a certainty.

If she worked hard, Luo Mijin could freely pursue what she loved.

Just as she had vowed when confessing her feelings, she had no regrets. She would strive to pull Luo Mijin out of that suffocating quagmire, unwavering in her resolve.

And so, she wouldn’t allow Luo Mijin to regret it either.

Luo Mijin froze. Rong Qingyao wasn’t wrong, she hadn’t considered how Rong Qingyao might feel. Fearing only that Rong Qingyao would be hurt, she had made the decision unilaterally.

“I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right, it was my fault back then.”

“Who was right or wrong stopped mattering long ago.”

Just then, someone called for Luo Mijin again, Wei Xiashuang’s assistant.

“Riddle, are you still on the phone? The teacher has been waiting for ten minutes already. There’s another schedule later, so you’ll need to hurry. Besides, it’s getting late.”

Having lost track of time while talking to Rong Qingyao, Luo Mijin quickly apologized. “I’ll be there in a minute. Sorry.”

“Rong Qingyao, let’s leave it at that for now. We’ll talk another time.”

The woman gazed at the mist-shrouded stream before her and said softly,

“Luo Mijin, I have something to tell you. You’ll be staying there for three days, right?”

Without waiting for an answer, she continued, deliberate yet firm:

“Wait for me to settle some matters. I’ll come to you in person to make things clear. At most a day no, half a day and I’ll be there.”

Luo Mijin’s heart skipped a beat. “Rong Qingyao, what do you need to clarify with me?”

But Rong Qingyao had already hung up. She followed the stream upstream, surrounded by a cool, hushed stillness. Stumbling through the grassy meadow in the courtyard, she drew closer until the rushing water became audible.

The light from the wrought-iron streetlamp was bright, reflecting off the stream like a layer of silver.

When she looked up, she realized not only was the moon luminous tonight, but the stars were plentiful too, just like the day Luo Mijin had taught her to play Go using the stars.

The little horse’s stable wasn’t far away. Standing asleep, its long lashes drooped as the night breeze ruffled its white mane, fluffy and endearing.

Startled by the rustling of grass under Rong Qingyao’s feet, it blinked sleepily in her direction. Recognizing its familiar owner, it obediently let itself be led out, nibbled a few mouthfuls of its favorite feed, then immediately pranced about gleefully under the moonlight.

Turning back to find the woman hadn’t followed, it trotted over to check on her.

This person was unhappy again luring it with treats to cheer it up, yet not even playing with it.

It gazed at Rong Qingyao with innocent, naive eyes, no longer mischievously pushing its owner as before. Instead, it lowered its head and nuzzled the back of Rong Qingyao’s hand, trying to cheer the human up.

The pony’s touch was warm and fuzzy. Rong Qingyao hugged its short, furry body, and this time it stayed perfectly still, allowing the woman to stroke its head.

Until it felt a damp warmth around its neck, making it uncomfortable. Sensing something unusual about the human, it wisely refrained from pulling away.

“Tell me, what can I use to make her stay?”

“Even if I told her everything, would she still turn away?”

“If she refuses, what can I do?”

It was like love at first sight, a fleeting indulgence after that, there was no turning back. It was all her own wishful thinking.

Luo Mijin was the wound in her life, and she hoped it would never heal.

Her fate was an endless game of chance, ruled by uncertainty and filled with chaos. Only by giving her all could she carve a path through the storm.

So, in the years gone by, she had mostly waited, waited for the moment when the halls were filled with guests and the stars shone bright, for that one beam of light meant for her to cut through the surging crowd and rush toward her.

But she found this didn’t work. It seemed her fate was sealed: to gain anything, she had to fight, snatch, and seize, with only the faintest glimmer of hope.

She could make her fall in love with her again.

Tonight, the moon shone brilliantly like silver. Rong Qingyao sent the pony back to sleep.

Alone, she returned to the villa. In the bathroom, the servants had already drawn a hot bath. Scented candles flickered with tiny flames, filling the air with a noble, gentle fragrance of oakmoss, hyacinth, and rosemary.

Amid the rose petals covering the water, Rong Qingyao let herself sink and float, lost in a pool of longing and sorrow, as if trapped in a hazy dream.

**

After hanging up the phone, Luo Mijin walked down the hallway, where Wei Xiashuang was waiting with a smile.

“Xiao Luo, are you alright? You seem preoccupied.”

“It’s nothing, just some personal matters.”

Wei Xiashuang studied Luo Mijin for a couple of seconds. She had faintly heard Luo Mijin call out “Rong Qingyao” a few times and guessed the call must have been from her.

With a casual smile, she remarked:

“Actually, building a good relationship with Qingyao is a very smart move. Although the Cen family’s designated heir is that young master, and everyone looks down on Qingyao especially Old Master Cen that young master is utterly useless. I suspect all his secrets are already in Qingyao’s hands.”

“Would she be in danger?” Luo Mijin controlled her expression and voice, then rephrased, “I mean, the Cen family is so complicated. Can she handle it? Could something unexpected happen?”

It wasn’t that she doubted Rong Qingyao’s abilities, but worrying for the woman had become instinctive just as Rong Qingyao had accused her of, she always wanted to make decisions alone, thinking they were for Qingyao’s own good.

Wei Xiashuang observed Luo Mijin while smiling:

“Don’t worry, Qingyao can definitely handle it. She and Bai Jinhuai are both shrewd and calculating. I have a feeling the Cen family might soon change hands.”

“That’s a bit exaggerated, isn’t it?” Though Luo Mijin only had a vague understanding of such matters, she knew an old, powerful family like the Cens wouldn’t change leadership so easily.

“It’s not an exaggeration. Qingyao must have prepared for a long time. An illegitimate daughter underestimated by everyone making a stunning debut isn’t uncommon. Besides, she’s the kind of ruthless person who’d even sell out herself and love.”

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