A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 53.1

Fragments of streetlight drifted leisurely through the sleet, making it impossible to tell if the storm had grown stronger.

Rong Qingyao’s long black hair cascaded down as she smiled at Luo Mijin. “You can think about the questions you want to ask.”

“Okay,” Luo Mijin’s thoughts followed Rong Qingyao’s lead, no matter which direction they veered.

The building’s security guard shone his flashlight on the two figures standing on the glass walkway—their posture ambiguous, caught somewhere between negotiation and flirtation.

“Our floor is closing soon. You two should head home,” the guard called from a distance, eyeing the pair with suspicion before adding, “Whatever you need to say, say it properly. No fighting, and definitely no impulsive actions—you’ll regret it later.”

Luo Mijin was still organizing the questions swirling in her mind when she belatedly realized the guard seemed to have mistaken them for people meeting here to brawl—or worse, commit murder.

Flushing slightly, she shook her head. “We’re… old friends who lost track of time while catching up.”

“Then hurry home. This place closes at midnight,” the guard replied, his doubtful gaze lingering on them. “Everyone else has already left.”

Noticing the guard’s eyes fixed on Rong Qingyao, Luo Mijin instinctively stepped forward, shielding her.

Even bare-faced and dressed simply, the woman radiated an arresting beauty—so striking it was almost blinding.

Especially now, with tears glistening in her eyes and crystalline droplets clinging to her long lashes, fragile yet devastatingly captivating.

Without thinking, Luo Mijin pulled Rong Qingyao close, slipping her own fisherman’s hat onto the woman’s head to block the guard’s view.

Yanked into Luo Mijin’s embrace, Rong Qingyao weakened by sleep deprivation collided with the younger woman’s chin, the impact drawing fresh tears.

She looked up, nose and eyes flushed pink, voice faint and honeyed. “Be gentler, won’t you?”

“Ah—sorry! But we… we should go downstairs first,” Luo Mijin stammered, tightly gripping Rong Qingyao’s hand as she hurried them toward the elevator.

Only after pressing the basement button and feeling the elevator descend did Luo Mijin relax her hypervigilant stance.

The skin beneath her fingers was soft and cool, sending a long-forgotten thrill through her. It took Rong Qingyao’s delicate whimper of pain to startle Luo Mijin into releasing her grip.

“Why so rough? I wasn’t going to run away,” Rong Qingyao teased, her playful gaze dancing over Luo Mijin’s flustered expression.

“R-right, sorry. I forgot,” Luo Mijin mumbled, her face burning crimson, vibrant silver hair tumbling like seaweed.

Pressed into the elevator corner, she stole glances at Rong Qingyao’s wrist—now ringed with red marks against porcelain skin, the sight inexplicably stirring something itchy within her.

“Does it hurt?”

Noticing Luo Mijin’s ears had turned scarlet too, Rong Qingyao deliberately asked with feigned nonchalance, “What should you call me? Mind your manners.”

“Rong… Rong Qingyao?” Luo Mijin ventured, thoroughly bewildered. The woman who’d seemed so fragile moments ago now carried a hint of imperiousness.

The elevator doors opened, and Rong Qingyao shot Luo Mijin a glance before gracefully stepping out first. Turning back to see Luo Mijin still frozen in place, she sighed helplessly and called out:

“Slowpoke, hurry up already.”

“Ah, right, coming, coming.”

Under the night sky, Rong Qingyao’s face was cold and restrained, her pale beauty almost surreal. Yet the deliberately spoiled, willful side of her struck Luo Mijin as oddly endearing and charming.

At that moment, Luo Mijin suddenly recalled a recent Hong Kong media report about Rong Qingyao. Though Hong Kong tabloids were known for their audacious exaggerations, she felt their description of Rong Qingyao was surprisingly apt:

“Restrained intellect, wielding beauty as a weapon.”

“Quite the weapon indeed.”

Scampering to Rong Qingyao’s side, Luo Mijin  immediately lowered her gaze to the ground, following her down the street.

“What did you say?” Rong Qingyao snorted. “Don’t think I didn’t hear that.”

Luo Mijin promptly mimed zipping her lips shut, putting on an obedient expression.

“Where did you learn to be so slick these days?”

The midnight street was thick with darkness, lined with colorful lights that shimmered brilliantly. The lingering rain cast fine droplets over their hair and shoulders, creating a soft, fuzzy glow between the light and shadows.

Though she hadn’t drunk anything, Luo Mijin felt flushed and lightheaded, her mind hazier than if she were intoxicated.

Rong Qingyao had called off her engagement and said she’d always loved her?

Had loved her all these seven years?

It felt like a dream no, something even more beautiful and unreal than a dream.

She remembered seven years ago, the night they’d returned from watching the Aurora. She’d been gazing at the stars during the blue hour when Rong Qingyao confessed to her.

Back then, the sun was just about to breach the horizon, the stars still twinkling tirelessly, indifferent to being drowned out by daylight.

She felt like those blue-hour stars dim and faint, yet still receiving an answer.

“Luo Mijin, haven’t you figured out what to call me yet?” Rong Qingyao stopped a short distance from the black Porsche, looking at Luo Mijin with a mix of sorrow and reproach.

“Yeah, I have,” Luo Mijin said, but hesitated to voice the term.

“Fine, I won’t push you. So shy,” the woman chuckled, ruffling Luo Mijin’s hair before taking her hand with slender, elegant fingers.

“Qing… Your hand—doesn’t it hurt?” Luo Mijin guiltily recalled how tightly she’d gripped it in the elevator.

“Can’t I hold your hand even if it hurts?” Rong Qingyao feigned anger. “Are you disgusted by me?” You already muttered about me being too fierce earlier. Did you meet someone gentler these past seven years and now look down on the old model?”

“Huh?” Luo Mijin frowned unconsciously, her large eyes misty from the rain. I’m not being picky about you. I just don’t want you to be in pain.”

“So you did meet someone gentler? Otherwise, why avoid the question?”

Luo Mijin: “…”

“I don’t know. I never really paid attention to others.”

The girl’s reply was as earnest and consistent as ever—this person had always tuned out the world around her. Though a surge of bitterness welled up inside, Rong Qingyao decided to let it go for now.

There would be plenty of time later.

“Good. Then hold my hand properly so you don’t lose me again.”

At those words, Luo Mijin could almost feel the fear behind them. The decisiveness of their breakup had left too many shadows on Rong Qingyao.

“…Actually, you don’t need to worry,” Luo Mijin finally managed to stammer out that form of address, “Senior, you all don’t need to worry. I won’t… I absolutely won’t leave you again, I swear.”

Rong Qingyao didn’t say anything more, just walked hand in hand with Luo Mijin side by side, just like after watching the Aurora all those years ago.

Not far away, the clear waters of the harbor shimmered with moonlight reflections as they walked slowly hand in hand, occasionally exchanging glances with each other’s images reflected in their eyes. Their gazes were clear and transparent, brimming with quiet joy.

There weren’t many intense emotions, just peaceful tranquility, without any accumulated resentment from years past.

As if neither of them had ever been hurt.

“Should we drive to the hotel or go home?” Rong Qingyao opened the Porsche door and asked Luo Mijin. “If we’re going home, we can book a flight for early morning right away.”

Luo Mijin thought for a moment before hesitantly saying, “I want to go home. I don’t want to stay outside.”

“Alright,” Rong Qingyao immediately had Yan Si book them two first-class tickets back, then leaned softly against Luo Mijin’s shoulder. “Can you drive? I’ve barely slept in three days, I’m so tired.”

Hearing this, Luo Mijin immediately grew concerned, wanting to hug Rong Qingyao to check on her condition, but then felt suddenly embarrassed.

“Then, should we stay at a hotel tonight before going back?” she asked nervously, wide-eyed. “There seems to be a nice hotel very close by, I checked the map.”

“No, I want to go home too, especially with you coming back with me.”

Luo Mijin could never resist when Rong Qingyao acted slightly spoiled. “Okay, then I’ll drive. You can nap in the car.”

The black Porsche interior carried a faint scent of snow, inexplicably evoking images of vast, beautiful snow valleys. Luo Mijin’s face grew even redder, especially when Rong Qingyao asked her to help fasten the seatbelt.

“I’m too tired to do it myself, help me out,” the woman said. With her cool, pure beauty and intelligent, sophisticated demeanor, even this subtle flirtation carried an innocent charm.

Seeing Luo Mijin hesitate, she lightly raised her wrist to show the circle of vivid red marks on her porcelain skin. “My hand still hurts, I can’t do anything. It’s fine for you to help me – we’re in a relationship now, aren’t we?”

As if Luo Mijin refusing would mean she had something to hide.

Luo Mijin had no choice but to first undo her own seatbelt, lean across the woman’s beautifully curved body, awkwardly pull over the seatbelt, and slowly buckle it in place. Just from this simple action, a thin layer of sweat formed on her forehead.

“So nervous?” Rong Qingyao hooked a finger under Luo Mijin’s chin, her porcelain-white fingertip resting on the younger woman’s dimple as she asked casually, “Do you not ride in cars often?”

“I usually ride a bicycle,” Luo Mijin calculated the frequency and answered very precisely. “About four times a week.”

“Have you ever helped someone else fasten their seatbelt like this?”

“Huh?” The sudden topic change left Luo Mijin completely unable to react, staring blankly like a stuck tape recorder.

Rong Qingyao half-closed her eyes, calmly guiding the conversation. “For example, that Miss Lan Mingyu who has such a good relationship with you and helps you so much.”

“No, we rarely ride together.”

“How long have you known each other?”

“Two or three years.”

“How did you meet?”

“Well, I received news that Zhiwen was in a coma after a car accident. It was my first time flying to L City, and I got lost. She happened to run into me at the airport and gave me a lot of help.”

“Hmm, still a hero-saves-the-beauty story, meeting in difficult times,” Rong Qingyao glanced at her, remarking lightly.

“At that time, Mingyu… Lan Mingyu still had a girlfriend.”

“And then?”

“I don’t know why they broke up,” Luo Mijin showed a reminiscing expression. “I never asked for the specific reason.”

Rong Qingyao found herself overwhelmed by the earnest look on this person’s face, her palms and fingers growing damp, almost intoxicated as she asked a slightly improper question.

“Luo Mijin, when you thought I was engaged, why didn’t you come and take me away?”

“Huh?” Luo Mijin gazed at Rong Qingyao in confusion.

“Hmm, did you think I wouldn’t go with you because I have particularly strong moral principles?” The woman smiled faintly, her eyes seemingly gentle yet carrying an obsessive undertone that grew more pronounced the calmer she appeared.

Even a fool would have noticed Rong Qingyao’s unusually strong jealousy.

“No, no, I just thought… I thought you two were truly…”

Rong Qingyao covered Luo Mijin’s lips. “I know. It’s because your moral principles are particularly high.”

The faint fragrance of the woman’s body was too enticing. Luo Mijin paused for a moment before regaining her composure and saying:

“Actually, they’re not that high.”

She hadn’t taken Rong Qingyao away simply because she feared the woman was immersed in newfound happiness and wouldn’t leave with her.

She feared humiliation, and even more, she feared destroying the happiness the woman deserved.

“By the way, I remember you and Lan Mingyu often went to the movies together?” Rong Qingyao steered the conversation back.

“Not really. It wasn’t that frequent.”

“Did she usually cook for you?”

Luo Mijin started the car, slowly driving onto the nearly empty city roads. “When I stayed at her place, that’s how it was.”

“So how did you end up living together?”

The woman leaned lazily against the seat, her expression soft and warm, yet the questions she asked grew increasingly probing.

“After Zhiwen’s car accident, she was in a coma, her condition fluctuating. Plus, the apartment I was living in had to be sold because the landlord’s daughter was getting married. Several factors piled up, and she kindly offered to help me.”

At the time, Luo Zhiwen had suffered a brain injury in the accident and remained unconscious for a long time. After Luo’s grandfather passed away from illness, the family was deliberately framed by certain people, all their assets frozen, and the funds for the hospital here were cut off.

“So when Lan Mingyu confessed to you, why didn’t you agree?”

“Because… because I only liked you,” Luo Mijin’s fair face flushed red. After giving the answer that satisfied Rong Qingyao, she realized something was off. “Senior, how did you know she confessed to me?”

Caught in the slip, Rong Qingyao showed no panic, casually steering Luo Mijin to change the subject without a trace of guilt.

“I’m done asking for now. It’s your turn.”

Though puzzled, Luo Mijin followed Rong Qingyao’s lead and asked:

“Senior, do you really not like Scott anymore?”

Rong Qingyao, sitting in the passenger seat, laughed helplessly. “Don’t slander me. I never liked him in the first place.”

“Then why were you engaged to him?”

Seeing more vehicles on the roadside, Rong Qingyao’s tone softened further. “Be good, focus on driving first. Once we’re home, I’ll explain everything to you properly. I’ll answer whatever you ask, alright?”

“Okay,” Luo Mijin replied sheepishly, pressing her lips together. “Then you should get some sleep quickly. If I see you awake, I’ll keep wanting to talk to you.”

“But I don’t want to sleep.”

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