A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 52.2

Rong Qingyao nodded, her smile as gentle as the first snow. “Very much so.”

Wei Xiashuang smiled, satisfied. “So, people really shouldn’t be too stubborn. If you’re open to it, the scenery outside is much better.”

She left a flashy business card with Rong Qingyao, the implication clear.

“Director Rong, I enjoyed our heart-to-heart today. I hope you did too. Remember to call me, I’m free any day, Monday through Sunday.”

“I’m different.”

Wei Xiashuang had just risen gracefully, hoping to leave Rong Qingyao with a profound impression of mystery and elegance, when she heard the woman’s faint voice utter such a baffling statement.

“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“You’re very perceptive and open-minded. I’m not the same.”

Wei Xiashuang was taken aback by the woman’s calm yet strangely obsessive words. On impulse, she blurted out:

“Though I don’t know the details of your past with Xiao Luo, didn’t you get engaged? Xiao Luo is a good woman, you shouldn’t play with her feelings or make her your side piece.”

Rong Qingyao replied nonchalantly, “As I said earlier, the engagement has been canceled.”

Now it was Wei Xiashuang’s turn to be shocked. “I thought you were joking.”

“I wasn’t. When it comes to her, I never joke.”

Only then did Wei Xiashuang notice with surprise that Rong Qingyao’s gaze had never once left Luo Mijin. Those eyes weren’t just alluring and lively, there was an unwavering intensity in them.

It was as if the woman harbored some primal trust and energy toward Luo Mijin.

She wanted to follow Luo Mijin, no matter the outcome. Whether fortune favored her or disaster struck, she would follow to the death.

Beneath that elegant, self-made exterior refined, dignified, and ruthless in climbing the social ladder, bending to every whim and playing every role her restless soul was drowning, suffocating.

When Rong Qingyao had first finished speaking to Luo Mijin, a light drizzle still drifted through the sky. Now that filming had wrapped, the seaside seemed to have plunged into winter. Under the night sky, the sea and houses were shrouded in mist.

“Filming’s done. Let’s all go eat together. Xiao Wei already offered to treat us.”

The moment these words were spoken, everyone cheered in agreement.

“Great! Let’s all go!”

Luo Mijin watched Rong Qingyao amidst the crowd, her heart in turmoil. She longed to lay everything bare with Rong Qingyao right then, yet at the same time, she wished this moment could stretch on forever.

Unconsciously, she ignored the invitations and glances of others and found herself uncontrollably drawn to Rong Qingyao’s side.

Walking at the back of the group, their feet sinking into the soft white sand, they moved side by side in silence, their hands occasionally brushing against each other.

The restaurant Wei Xiashuang had booked wasn’t far from the beach just a ten-minute walk.

In the private dining room on the 37th floor, each person had a small grill at their seat, flames flickering in the center, skewers of beef, sliced fish, and fresh vegetables arranged beside it. Warm air circulated through the room.

Dishes kept arriving at the large round table. Rong Qingyao quietly picked the lotus seeds out of her porridge, then placed the porcelain bowl on the lazy Susan, elegantly spinning it toward Luo Mijin.

The lotus seed porridge was delicious, but as Luo Mijin drank it, the emotions in her heart could no longer be contained. With a sudden clink, she set down her spoon and stood up abruptly.

Every pair of eyes turned to her in unison before gradually shifting to Rong Qingyao.

This was the first time Luo Mijin had ever been the center of such “high-profile” attention in such a crowded setting, but she paid it no mind. Instead, she silently asked Rong Qingyao with her eyes if they could step outside to talk.

As the two left one after the other, the remaining diners exchanged puzzled glances before breaking into hushed whispers.

“What’s going on? Isn’t President Rong already engaged? What’s this about, playing both sides now?”

Wei Xiashuang waved her phone nearby and snorted, “She already called off the engagement.”

“What? No way.”

The people at the dining table stopped eating and hurriedly opened their phones, seeing the trending hashtag #RongQingyaoCallsOffEngagement# exploding on Weibo.

The comments below were divided some rejoiced that their goddess remained unattached, others speculated about the reasons, and some even spun conspiracy theories about the man having done something wrong.

Outside the restaurant, in the corridor, Rong Qingyao and Luo Mijin stood silently together on the colorful glass walkway, shoulder to shoulder, watching the sleet-filled sky.

Ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour passed. The group that had come for the gathering finally grew tired, some linking arms and drinking, others playing drinking games, no longer sneaking glances at the two of them.

Rong Qingyao gazed at the city veiled in the snowy haze, remembering how it had snowed just as heavily on the day they broke up.

They had ended things over the phone, yet she often dreamed of Luo Mijin standing in the swirling snow, her expression shifting between tenderness and indifference.

In the dream, Luo Mijin’s retreating figure vanished quickly from sight, leaving behind only a shattered game console.

She had tried to pick up the pieces in the dream, only to be cut by the sharp metal edges.

Waking up, her heart ached unbearably.

“Did you eat enough earlier?”

No one spoke, so Rong Qingyao broke the awkward silence first.

Having waited too long, she had nearly lost all hope. She turned away, forcing a smile.

“I understand. You don’t want to say no outright, and I get that. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you anymore. If you’d prefer, we don’t even have to be friends just strangers. I won’t appear in front of you again. ”

“That’s not it.” Luo Mijin’s voice choked with emotion. She rushed forward and hugged Rong Qingyao, stopping her from leaving.

How could she not love Rong Qingyao? She loved her so much it felt like dying.

She had never dared to imagine this moment, not even in her dreams.

“Senior, I’ve never stopped loving you. Not for a single moment.”

Rong Qingyao’s ears echoed with Wei Xiashuang’s words: “A habit, staying together out of gratitude and pity, while love quietly faded over the years.”

She didn’t turn around, letting Luo Mijin hold her, savoring the fleeting warmth.

In this moment, her courage was boundless, those who had known despair were unstoppable.

After a long pause, her voice grew heavy and hoarse. “Luo Mijin, think carefully. Do you really love me? I want love any amount is fine, but it has to be love.”

Rong Qingyao knew she was more insecure now than ever before.

“I don’t want you to decide you love me out of habit, dependence, gratitude, or anything else. Take your time, think it through, and then tell me honestly. Don’t worry about my feelings.”

Luo Mijin still couldn’t speak, shaking her head desperately. She remembered the days locked in the tower, the howling wind, time standing still endless classes and the even more terrifying conversion therapy.

Back then, she would often gaze at the single square window at the top of the tower, fantasizing about the days she had lived with Rong Qingyao in a rented apartment. She imagined herself like a bird, descending from the sky in a gust of wild wind, tearing open the roof to escape this place and take her to Rong Qingyao’s side.

She had always been a solitary person by nature and once believed loneliness was her closest friend. But in that tower, she betrayed her “friend.”

There was no electricity in the tower, no paper or pens. She tore off pieces of wood and carved words with an iron nail, pleading with the child who brought her meals at night to deliver letters for her, letters to Rong Qingyao, letters to the university.

She gave all the valuable things she had left to that child, begging for even the slightest response.

Every minute, every second, she loathed the loneliness and emptiness of that place. It was so quiet everywhere. She longed to speak to Rong Qingyao, but she never could again. It was truly despairing this was even more painful than death.

In the darkness, she wailed and screamed, trembling as she huddled in a corner. Whether silent or hysterical, no miracle occurred. Everything was hollow.

Eternal solitude enveloped her, roaring in her ears that she would never see Rong Qingyao again.

Never again would she have the chance to explain that she hadn’t wanted to break up. Never again could they fulfill their dreams. Never again could they hold hands and stroll through amusement parks. Never again could she say, I love you.

Sometimes, she absurdly wished a witch would appear and turn her into a thin paper airplane, small enough to tuck into Rong Qingyao’s pocket, so she could follow the woman to faraway places.

But instead, it felt as if those people had turned her into a speechless, motionless specimen, forced to “recover” under their electroshock therapy and hot water treatments.

They demanded she stop loving Rong Qingyao, repeatedly told her that homosexuality was wrong, sinful, filthy, a sickness that deserved divine fire and death as punishment.

She could only imagine how much pain Rong Qingyao must have been in, losing all contact with her. Back then, she had understood just how deeply Rong Qingyao loved her. She had always believed that.

Until, over the long years, that belief twisted into desperate hatred, hatred for herself.

If she could never escape, how much agony would Rong Qingyao, who still loved her, endure?

She truly was someone unworthy of love. Rong Qingyao should never have accepted those green roses and caterpillars she had given her. Then she wouldn’t have had to witness the flowers wither and the butterflies perish.

“Senior,  why how could you still love me?”

Why do you still love me?

I’m not worth your love at all. All I’ve brought you is endless suffering.

These words roared like thunder in her heart. She felt as if she would turn into a blade, wounding the one she loved most.

She could have lived out her days clinging to the happiness and love of the past. As long as Rong Qingyao was happy, that would have been enough. Why was this woman willing to love her so humbly?

The guilty one, the one who deserved hell, was her. She was the one who had betrayed Rong Qingyao first, betrayed their vows, betrayed their love.

Someone like her deserved to burn ten thousand times over.

How could she possibly be worthy of someone as good as Rong Qingyao, still loving her after all this time?

Luo Mijin held Rong Qingyao tightly, as if trying to press the woman into her own body, or as if afraid the wind and rain outside the window might disturb her. Countless lights and vehicles flowed beneath their feet, unnoticed.

The suffocating grief she had suppressed for so long could no longer be contained, it surged forth from the depths of time.

Once again, she wrapped her arms around Rong Qingyao with all her strength, tears falling as she sobbed uncontrollably sometimes like a helpless child, sometimes like a stray cat that had just found its way home.

“Senior, I’m no good. You shouldn’t love me. Why do you love me?”

“Luo Mijin,” Rong Qingyao gently stroked her hand, lips curving slightly. “Wrong. Your question is wrong. You should be asking me how I could ever not love you. The answer,  I told you long ago.”

Once the piece is placed, there’s no regret.

“But it was me who said we should break up. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” Luo Mijin had wanted to explain everything the moment those words left her lips years ago. “I’m sorry, I was wrong. It was all my fault.”

“I’m sorry, I love you. I’m sorry, I love you.”

Every “I love you” was preceded by an “I’m sorry,” as if Luo Mijin loving Rong Qingyao was something unspeakable, something wrong, something sinful.

“Why are you apologizing?” Rong Qingyao gently wiped away Luo Mijin’s tears. She had never seen Luo Mijin cry like this before.

Not when Luo Mijin told her about being abandoned by her parents, not when she heard about Rong Qingyao’s engagement, not even when Luo Mijin’s fingers were pierced by glass under the traffic light outside the bar.

Luo Mijin kept thinking that if Rong Qingyao had never met her, she might have had a better life, met someone better.

Often, she felt her grandfather, her family, those “teachers” in the tower weren’t wrong, she was indeed sinful.

Not because she was gay, but because she was flawed, abnormal.

Luo Mijin shook her head desperately, not knowing how to explain to Rong Qingyao. Between sobs, she managed to say:

“It’s all my fault you’re so unhappy. You’d be better off without me. I ruined your life.”

“Silly, Luo Mijin, so silly.” Rong Qingyao’s eyes reddened, but she still smiled.

Without Luo Mijin, she would have spent her entire life trapped in a cold, desolate place. She would never have seen beautiful flowers, glittering stars, or known what it felt like to be loved.

No one else would have jumped off a high wall just to rush over and say “Happy birthday” to her.

“Stupid, I’ve been fine. As long as you still want to be with me, that’s enough.”

Luo Mijin’s eyes were red from crying, her silver hair disheveled, like a kitten drenched in rain. “Senior, you’re lying. You couldn’t have been fine.”

“Oh, now you’re talking back to me?” Rong Qingyao deliberately pursed her lips, her voice soft and nasal, as if she’d been wronged.

Sure enough, Luo Mijin panicked immediately. “No, I didn’t mean,  it’s just the truth.”

Rong Qingyao lightly tapped Luo Mijin’s nose. “It’s not the truth. Thinking of you, I’ve been just fine. And I know you never really wanted to break up with me.”

“How do you know?” Luo Mijin’s eyes brimmed with sorrow and pain. She couldn’t understand why this woman believed in her so completely.

The chasm of time hadn’t changed a thing. It was as if after a thousand years of slumber, trapped in endless nightmares, she could open her eyes and still see the woman’s waiting face.

“I just know. You’re sillier than me,” Rong Qingyao chided, her tear-glazed eyes both pitiful and commanding.

“But there’s still so much I don’t understand.”

Why Rong Qingyao had called off her engagement, why she’d suddenly confessed her feelings, the full truth behind their breakup years ago, why Rong Qingyao was always taking medicine now.

“Little kitten, we have plenty of time to figure it all out.”

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