A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 57 (END OF MAIN STORY )

Having said her piece, Rong Qingyao nodded politely to Luo Anbang, indicating that she had other matters to attend to and would take her leave. Without further ado, she stepped out of the car and walked away.

“Young people these days don’t know their place—ambitions as high as the sky, yet fate as thin as paper,” Luo Anbang’s secretary sneered beside him.

Luo Anbang did not stop Rong Qingyao from leaving. Instead, he too stepped out of the car with his cane, followed closely by his secretary from the front passenger seat.

They both watched the slender figure of the young woman as she turned and walked away into the snowstorm, leaving behind nothing but a courteous smile.

Her demeanor was as pure and poised as a lotus, dignified and unyielding, her clear, beautiful eyes remaining utterly calm.

“That child is far too proud,” Luo Anbang remarked, shaking his head as he recalled the proud glint in Rong Qingyao’s eyes.

She was so proud that she believed she could conquer the world, unaware of how little an ordinary person could truly resist.

One day, that child would compromise. Her unyielding spirit would break, and the light in her eyes would fade.

The secretary dutifully held an umbrella over Luo Anbang, shielding him from the snow. “Sir, no matter how proud she is, she’s just a poor student. We’ve seen countless people like her—arrogant and self-important. Once she steps into the real world, her true colors will show.”

Amid the hazy snowfall, Rong Qingyao’s tall, slender figure grew smaller and smaller, eventually dissolving into an indistinguishable speck. Yet her unwavering resolve lingered, inexplicably commanding a sense of authority.

Luo Anbang shook his head, as if sighing to no one in particular. “Though she appears clean and unassuming, her eyes are full of ambition and sharpness. Don’t underestimate this girl.”

“Yes, sir,” the secretary replied respectfully.

Luo Anbang exhaled deeply. “Since she’s made her choice, we must keep our word. Let’s give her a small taste of hardship first. Once she experiences the bitterness, she’ll naturally yield.”

The secretary, who never questioned Luo Anbang’s decisions and fully supported them, responded promptly, “Understood. I’ll arrange it immediately. The professors at S University where Rong Qingyao studies are all well-acquainted with us. As for the company she currently works for, they have business ties with your old friends. Dismissing a talented but insignificant young person will be effortless.”

“Mm, go ahead.”

The secretary took a few steps forward to open the car door for Luo Anbang when his phone vibrated. After a brief call lasting no more than ten seconds, he returned to the old man’s side and whispered:

“Sir, they’ve found the young miss. They’re asking for your instructions on what to do next.”

Seated in the back, Luo Anbang narrowed his eyes slightly. Age had taken its toll on his energy.

Moreover, his conversation with Rong Qingyao had drained him. Though he had initially intended to personally retrieve Luo Mijing, he now felt too weary.

The secretary waited in silence, not daring to start the car without further orders.

“Go and bring her back. Make sure she doesn’t escape again, and don’t alert the neighbors or the media. The Luo family can’t afford the shame.”

“Yes, sir.”

**

Before being escorted back to the Luo family by a group of bodyguards, Luo Mijing had been cleaning her small rented room, changing the bedsheets, and picking a few small white and yellow wildflowers from a nearby hill to arrange in a plastic bottle.

She had just learned how to make a jelly cream pudding. The pudding had set, but she hadn’t yet whipped the cream.

The bodyguards had been replaced with a new batch—taller, more silent, and without a word, they escorted Luo Mijing into the car.

The journey felt no different from transporting a prisoner. There was no communication, no cooperation. They surrounded her front and back, ensuring she wouldn’t escape again.

At the grand, elegant wrought-iron gate, the housekeeper, whom she hadn’t seen in months, looked noticeably more haggard. When she caught sight of Luo Mijing, her eyes welled up with tears.

Though it was hard to tell how much of that moisture was due to Luo Mijing’s cheap clothes and how much was relief at the thought of her monthly bonus doubling.

“Young Mistress, how could you run away from home for so long? Do you have any idea how worried the master and all of us have been these past few months?”

“Worried?” Luo Mijing scoffed, her voice cutting and cold. “Rest assured, no one knows the Luo family’s eldest daughter is a lesbian. No one knows about my ‘treachery.’ You’ve suffered no losses.”

The housekeeper stiffened awkwardly, forcing out a few awkward laughs. “Young Mistress, the entire household was just concerned you’d gone down the wrong path. We had to correct it.”

Luo Mijing didn’t waste any more words on her and strode straight toward her grandfather’s residence.

“Mijing, you’ve grown quite the backbone,” Luo Anbang remarked, having just woken from his nap. He didn’t sound angry. “I froze your bank accounts and credit cards, yet you managed to survive this long outside—all thanks to that woman, I presume.”

“Grandfather, just let me go,” Luo Mijing said, eerily calm despite being dragged back home. “I want to be with her.”

“Be with her? Two women saying such things—don’t you find it disgusting?”

“Grandfather, I am a lesbian, and I’ve never been ashamed of that. But you can be. I’ll allow you to be ashamed of me.”

“Mijing, I’ll give you two choices. First, break up with that Rong Qingyao and get engaged to Old Yuan’s grandson. Second, continue down this disgraceful path and humiliate the Luo family.”

“Grandfather, I love Rong Qingyao. It’s fine—I don’t have to be a Luo. You can disown me, cut me off financially.” She lowered her head with a self-deprecating smile. “You never wanted a granddaughter like me anyway. Now you can have your wish. Please, just let me go.”

“You still remember you’re a child of the Luo family? My granddaughter? Have you no sense of shame? Disownment?” Luo Anbang let out a cold laugh. “If cutting ties were that simple, why did your parents die? Look into your conscience—do you think you’re honoring their spirits? Do you think you’re repaying the family that raised you?”

“What do you want from me?”

“Live the life I’ve arranged for you. Be a Luo descendant who brings pride to this family.”

“Grandfather, I want to live for myself. I’ll obey you in everything else, I won’t resist—but not this. No matter how you pressure me, no matter what threats you use, I won’t compromise. I love Rong Qingyao.”

“Even if I ruin Rong Qingyao’s future?”

Luo Mijing froze. A cold dread slithered up her spine. Gripping the edge of the table, she demanded,

“Grandfather, what have you done?”

“It’s not about what I’ll do—it’s about your choice. You were born a Luo, and I will never allow you to tarnish this family’s name.”

“Grandfather,” Luo Mijing’s eyes were red, “I can give up the Luo name, I can leave the Luo family. Isn’t that enough? Please don’t hurt her.”

Perhaps others didn’t know how hard Rong Qingyao had worked, how much effort she had put in, but Luo Mijing saw it all clearly. Her senior was a bird destined to soar through the heavens—glory should bow before her. Rong Qingyao should have a future as bright as brocade, not have her wings broken and be forced to fall.

This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t bear the thought of Rong Qingyao losing her dreams and ideals because of her. The flowers and applause were all things Rong Qingyao rightfully deserved.

Luo Anbang never expected his granddaughter to compromise so quickly—as if Luo Mijing cared more about Rong Qingyao’s future than Rong Qingyao herself did.

He couldn’t understand it. His granddaughter, who had always been unwilling to interact with others, who in his eyes was already mentally deficient and beyond cure—how could she harbor such unwavering emotions?

But he didn’t care about the process. As long as the goal was achieved, that was enough.

**

Days passed, though she didn’t know how many. Rong Qingyao stayed alone in the pitch-black rental apartment.

The room still carried Luo Mijing’s scent. She had arranged Luo Mijing’s clothes into a small makeshift castle and curled up in its deepest corner.

When the caller ID flashed “Number One Ranked Electronic Sheep,” she abruptly sat up. Having barely eaten for days, her body was so weak that even this simple movement sent a wave of dizziness through her.

But she didn’t dare delay. Suppressing her discomfort, she answered the call.

The line was dead silent. If not for the sound of each other’s breathing, she might have thought the call had dropped. The snow outside was heavy—heavier than the day they had met.

The sound of frost falling was like an arrow piercing through their lives.

“Senior, we’re breaking up,” Luo Mijing said into the phone, not feeling like a living, breathing human, just mechanically following instructions.

Afterward, everyone in the room simultaneously broke into relieved smiles, like survivors in a horror movie trembling with lingering fear.

The housekeeper whispered to the servants to hurry and inform Luo Anbang of the good news.

Rong Qingyao remained seated in the dark apartment, still holding the phone to her ear, Luo Mijing’s voice echoing in her mind.

Then, as if she had made some resolute decision, she suddenly stood and left. Without needing a map, she found her way back to the Luo residence.

In truth, this was only her fourth time coming here. Given her terrible sense of direction, she shouldn’t have been able to find the place so quickly.

Upon hearing of her arrival, Luo Anbang politely invited her inside.

“Old Master Luo, hello. I’m Rong Qingyao. Please let me see Luo Mijing.” Dressed in a black coat, her striking, coldly beautiful face was filled with determination.

“I believe Mijing has already told you about the breakup. Why are you still clinging on?” Luo Anbang was brewing tea, his demeanor relaxed and cheerful, as if a great burden had been lifted.

During this time, he had already used his influence to ensure Rong Qingyao faced setbacks in both her studies and career.

A prodigy like her, denied recognition in both work and academics, cut off from all paths forward—shouldn’t she have learned to recognize the situation and act accordingly?

He had thought she came to beg for mercy. But the young woman’s eyes still burned with unyielding defiance.

“You’d better worry about yourself. It’s not too late to back down now. Tell my granddaughter you don’t love her, that you were just playing with her feelings, and you can immediately study under a top-tier advisor for graduate school without worrying about employment.”

“Please let me see her.” Rong Qingyao’s face was frighteningly pale, her ink-dark eyes burning with stubborn defiance.

“Let me tell you the truth instead. My granddaughter never loved you. You know she has autism—she’s never had close friends, went years without normal social interactions. You were just a passing fancy for her.”

“Before you, Mijing’s favorite playmate was a cat. She also said she’d stay with that cat forever. Before that, it was a pile of stones she carried around every day. The only difference between you and those cats, dogs, or stones is that you’re human, so she could play with you a bit longer.”

“Young people should know when to cut their losses. Don’t compound your mistakes.”

“You won’t let me see her,” Rong Qingyao stated coldly, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

“You’re intelligent—I admire that about you. My advice is to find a hospital quickly to treat that homosexuality sickness of yours.”

“Homosexuality isn’t an illness. Though you’re my elder, I must point out the limitations in your thinking.”

“My granddaughter isn’t as steadfast as you. Those few months were just a patient finding an amusing playmate. Thinking of it that way, you’re truly pitiable.” Luo Anbang casually tossed several stacks of cash at Rong Qingyao’s feet. “This is what my granddaughter decided to give you—compensation for emotional distress.”

The red bills scattered around Rong Qingyao like falling leaves. She didn’t move, didn’t even glance at them. Her cool, detached expression seemed frozen solid. She knew Luo Anbang was trying to break her psychological defenses, but it was futile.

“Old Master Luo, I believe Luo Mijing isn’t that kind of person.”

“Hah! How long have you known Mijing? How well could you possibly understand her?” Luo Anbang’s contemptuous smile barely masked his inner shock. “You believe only because you want to believe.”

“True understanding comes from the heart, not time or other factors.”

“I’ve told you—Mijing will marry and return to normal. Your stubborn delusions will only destroy you.” Luo Anbang signaled the butler with his eyes to escort Rong Qingyao out. “See our guest out.”

The snow that day was exceptionally heavy, the sky leaden as if weighted down by iron. Rong Qingyao could no longer maintain her composure. Her body trembled uncontrollably, eyes stinging, all strength drained from her.

Head bowed, she walked slowly through the Luo family’s meticulously renovated garden. The flowers were gone, replaced by polished marble floors and seemingly endless broad steps.

A lavishly dressed noblewoman brushed past her, then paused deliberately before sauntering back with an inscrutable smile.

“Rong Qingyao, long time no see. You look rather haggard.”

“Madam Cen.”

Thick makeup caked Madam Cen’s face as she flicked her fingers dismissively, speaking without restraint.

“I never imagined you’d turn out to be one of those filthy homosexuals. You’re even more disgusting than your mother.”

“You’re the one who informed the Luo family.” Rong Qingyao’s dark gaze fixed on her unwaveringly.

Madam Cen swayed as if drunk. The bodyguards in the distance hesitated to intervene, constrained by the Luo family’s prestige.

“You’re not too slow to react. I specifically hired paparazzi to photograph you, originally intending for my son to learn more about you so he could defeat you and ensure you wouldn’t get a single penny of the family assets.”

Rong Qingyao smiled mockingly, her gaze steady. “I’ve told you before, I have no interest whatsoever in the Cen family’s wealth.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve already ruined your entire life, hahaha,” Madam Cen, wearing only a white sweater in the bitter cold, looked somewhat deranged. “I wanted to destroy you. Doesn’t it hurt now? Your future is gone, your love is gone—in the end, you’ve lost everything, just like your useless mother.”

“You’re oversimplifying things,” Rong Qingyao remained unmoved by her threats.

Seeing Rong Qingyao’s unnatural calmness, Madam Cen grew even more agitated. “You little bastard, don’t even think about threatening my son’s position. Don’t even think about it.”

“Let me reiterate—I have no interest in anything related to the Cen family.”

Watching Rong Qingyao walk away, Madam Cen grew increasingly distressed. Hallucinations flooded her mind—images of Rong Qingyao dressed in expensive coats, elegant and dignified, as if she had already stolen everything belonging to her and her son.

These hallucinations had cycled through her mind thousands of times. She couldn’t let this scourge remain—she had to make it disappear forever, disappear!

The sound of high heels crunching on snow was loud. Rong Qingyao turned around just in time to see Madam Cen charging at her like a madwoman, muttering under her breath before shoving her with all her might.

“Die! Just die, you little bastard. Don’t even dream of taking what belongs to my son.”

The newly rebuilt terrace of the Luo estate was five or six meters high. Before losing consciousness completely, Rong Qingyao’s thoughts lingered on the day they had said goodbye—only to never properly meet again.

She could see the jelly pudding Luo Mijing had made for her. She remembered they had promised to attend a concert together.

But as long as she didn’t give up, surely she would find Luo Mijing someday…

A sharp pain exploded in her head. The last thing Rong Qingyao saw was a blinding white light flashing before her eyes, strikingly similar to the dazzling silver hair of that person in midsummer.

She wanted to reach out, to hold Luo Mijing’s hand, to tell her not to be afraid, to wait for her.

She would achieve success, return with warmth and flowers, and embrace her again.

She just really wanted to see Luo Mijing one more time—even from afar, even without speaking.

Why wasn’t she even allowed to say goodbye?

Rong Qingyao collapsed onto the icy pavement in the heavy snow, her blood staining the pristine white beneath her like raging flames—unyielding, never extinguishing.

For a moment, everything stood still. Then came the frantic wail of an ambulance, the scene of bodyguards rushing to surround Madam Cen, someone shouting, “Call the police! Call the police!” Meanwhile, inside the Luo mansion, the housekeeper was already playing the wedding march in advance, practicing for the big day.

Earlier, classmates had come to congratulate her on her engagement. Under the watchful eyes of the bodyguards, Luo Mijing had briefly greeted them, hearing them mention that Senior Rong Qingyao had already finalized plans to study abroad for her master’s degree.

Today, in fact.

Just as rehearsed days before, the classmates took turns stepping forward to offer their blessings and gifts. Luo Mijing watched numbly as the servants and housekeeper bustled about, preparing everything for the engagement ceremony.

“Young Miss, it’s time to change into your wedding dress. We’ll all be waiting outside for you.” The housekeeper signaled for the bodyguards to escort Luo Mijing upstairs, ensuring no unexpected incidents occurred.

These days, they had kept Luo Mijing confined to a windowless room, afraid that the young mistress might run away again on a whim.

But today was the engagement ceremony, and it wouldn’t do for others to see Luo Mijing treated this way, so security was much looser.

This was Luo Mijing’s only chance. Because most of the bodyguards were stationed at the front entrance of the villa to receive guests, she could take advantage of the time to change clothes and jump from the third-floor window.

All of Luo Mijing’s belongings—her phone, backpack, ID card, and passport—had been confiscated. Last night, while the housekeeper was asleep, she had stolen back her ID and passport. Along with a few thousand yuan she had exchanged for some collectibles with a classmate, she hid them in a vase in the dressing room.

Two hundred meters away on the asphalt road was the taxi she had begged her classmate to arrange. The driver had promised to wait for her between ten and ten-fifteen.

She had heard from a few classmates that Rong Qingyao’s flight to Country M was scheduled for 12:30 p.m. She prayed she could make it in time.

The front entrance was crowded with guests, their faces beaming with smiles. The classmate who knew the truth sat nervously to the side, glancing repeatedly at the door until she faintly heard the sound of taxi tires screeching against the pavement, finally relaxing.

The airport was a glass-domed building shaped like a tortoise shell. When Luo Mijing arrived, it was still bustling with people. Having been confined at home for so long, her movements were uncoordinated, and she nearly stumbled several times.

In the airport terminal, the flight to City L in Country M had not yet departed. She frantically weaved through the crowd, trying to spot a familiar figure.

This airport had once been her land of hope—where she and Rong Qingyao had flown toward freedom together.

Until reality strangled them, dreams abandoned them, and the crowd trapped them.

Someone in the crowd suddenly shouted, “Maze Seventh Level!” Before long, a group of reporters with cameras and flashes swarmed around Luo Mijing.

“Maze Seventh Level, we heard you’re supposed to be engaged to the grandson of a financial tycoon today. Why are you at the airport?”

“Maze Seventh Level, you haven’t appeared in any Go tournaments for a long time. Are you planning a career change, or is there another reason?”

“We’ve heard your conflicts with your family are severe, and this engagement was forced. Is that true?”

“Reliable sources claim you’re eloping because your family disapproves of your relationship. Can you confirm this?”

“The young mistress is over there—quick, bring her back!”

At the entrance of the terminal, the voices of the Luo family’s bodyguards rang out. They immediately spotted Luo Mijing surrounded by the crowd.

“Hurry and take the young mistress back. We can still make it to the engagement ceremony.”

In her daze, Luo Mijing thought she saw Rong Qingyao’s retreating figure. She tried to call out to her, but no matter how wide she opened her mouth, no sound came out.

The woman’s silhouette grew farther and farther beyond the security checkpoint, like an untouchable dream.

She couldn’t scream. She didn’t turn back.

As if the camera flashes and fame had blocked the last glimpse they might have shared.

Luo Mijing didn’t know if this was irony or punishment.

In this life, she had possessed many things others could only dream of.

She should have been content. She should have compromised.

But never before had she hated wealth, reputation, and camera flashes so much—even Go became collateral in her fury.

If she had never played Go, if she had never become famous, if she had never fallen ill, if she hadn’t been so useless—she could have called out to Rong Qingyao.

Tell Rong Qingyao that she never intended to break up with her, that she always wanted to walk this path with her from the very beginning.

Every day spent with her was happier than any other moment in life—happiness like never before.

Thinking about it this way, it almost seems like there are no regrets left.

No, she regrets so much, she wants to cry. What else is left for Luo Mijing, who can’t spend a lifetime with Rong Qingyao, besides regret?

But the warm, intimate moments they shared had come to an end. The long night burned like a banner, vanishing in flames as fierce as fresh blood.

Endless damp nights merged into endless damp snow nights, the world shifting like a dream, flickering with the last traces of light in their hearts.

From then on, they were scattered and torn apart.

The consequence of swearing to reject the engagement and attempting to prove her resolve through death was Luo Mijing thoroughly enraging Luo Anbang.

Isolated in a high tower, Luo Mijing was placed under strict control, surrounded by iron bars. She was like a lifeless specimen. Occasionally, she would reach out her hand, imagining it clasped with Rong Qingyao’s.

Every day, she was forced to attend classes and recite scriptures to purify her soul. If purification failed, new methods were employed to “cure” her of homosexuality and make her “normal” again.

She would never forget the agony of electroshock therapy—like shattered fragments slowly carving through her bones and flesh. After each session, she would strangely smell the scent of her own body burning, a smell that made her want to cry.

They kept telling her that homosexuality was filthy, impure, and sinful.

But she simply sat in the restraint chair, motionless, her mind filled with Rong Qingyao’s cool, beautiful face, smiling gently at her, tender and moving.

She never once believed she was sinful.

Using the last of her money, Luo Mijing bribed the child who delivered her meals, begging him to send a letter to the university in hopes that a classmate might forward it to Rong Qingyao, who might have already crossed the ocean.

Day after day, she waited in the dark, freezing tower, clinging to her last shred of hope for a reply.

Lost in the mountains, she had lost all sense of time, unsure whether days or centuries had passed.

At least Rong Qingyao’s reply, a postcard, still looked brand new:

[Luo Mijing, we shall never meet again.]

At the same time, Rong Qingyao had just opened her eyes in a hospital ward.

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