A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 9

Rong Qingyao was actually wearing an old shirt with a gray windproof cardigan over it, looking rather drab.

Luo Mijin had already grown tense, the blade of grass she’d been chewing on now lost to the wind.

Even the housekeeper was surprised that the tutor the master had hired for the young miss would be such a beauty.

Her beauty was too striking, even at such a young age, one couldn’t ignore the refined elegance she exuded.

“Miss Rong, is it?” The housekeeper was the first to react, introducing her to Luo Mijin. “Young miss, this is Miss Rong, the tutor your grandfather specially hired for you. She’s also a top student at S University, in the same field as you.”

Luo Mijin remained motionless for a long while, quietly observing Rong Qingyao, unable to comprehend what kind of fate this was.

She had never encountered a human so frequently before.

“Hello,” Rong Qingyao said calmly, as if this were just an ordinary tutoring job, no different from any other. “This must be the student?”

Seeing this, the housekeeper quickly smoothed things over. “Yes, Miss Rong. Our young miss is quite introverted. We appreciate your patience.”

Rong Qingyao hadn’t expected her student this time to be Luo Mijin. Usually, she tutored high school students, but the pay for this job was exceptionally good, so she had contacted the parents on a whim.

Tutoring was her main source of income for tuition and living expenses, especially now that a debt repayment deadline was approaching. She needed to gather the money as soon as possible.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have applied for that hotel server job or accidentally drunk the spiked water.

“Don’t worry,” she replied politely, standing in the entryway.

“Miss Rong, please come in. Let me find you some slippers and bring some fruit,” the housekeeper said, turning to Luo Mijin. “Young miss, while the tutor rests, go change into something more presentable. The master always said guests should be received with dignity.”

Grandfather’s rule: one must always be dignified, elegant, and gracious.

Luo Mijin stood still, twisting her fingers together. “Okay.”

Rong Qingyao took off her faded canvas shoes and slipped into the house slippers the housekeeper provided.

Cashmere, luxurious and comfortable.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Luo Mijin’s retreating figure and inexplicably felt the girl resembled a plant on the verge of withering from thirst.

How strange. At first glance, Luo Mijin’s fair and lovely face made her seem like a child raised on love and warmth. Yet something about her made Rong Qingyao want to offer her a little sunlight.

“Miss Rong, this way please. The second floor is where the young miss usually rests and studies,” the housekeeper guided her to a boxwood door and gently pushed it open. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

Rong Qingyao shook off the absurd thought.

The decor here was opulent yet serene, tastefully done, with marble floors so spotless they reflected the wealth and nobility of the household.

By all appearances, this was a world beyond her reach.

Except for this study. Though the furnishings carried an air of classical elegance, they were interspersed with mechanical objects, creating a peculiar fusion of cyberpunk and antique styles.

Having changed into something more formal, Luo Mijin hesitantly entered the study. Her limited emotional experience left her unsure how to interact with Rong Qingyao.

She only knew she wanted to be close.

“Hello.”

“I’m only here to tutor, with no other connection to you.” Under the crystal chandelier’s clear light, Rong Qingyao’s face was vividly beautiful, yet her declaration was formal and icy.

The nervous excitement from moments ago extinguished at her words. Luo Mijin understood Rong Qingyao’s meaning, she was here solely as a tutor, and the identity of her student didn’t matter.

“Then how should I address you? Senior or teacher?”

“Depends on the setting. At school, just call me senior.”

“Alright, teacher.”

Pulling out the textbook, Rong Qingyao immediately began lecturing on the first-year finance curriculum. Luo Mijin followed along, jotting notes with a fountain pen.

She learned quickly, her focus sharp. By the end, Rong Qingyao found herself distracted, recalling her roommate’s baseless speculation about Luo Mijin cheating.

“Teacher, if we’re done for today, can I watch a movie?”

“Sure, but our session is three hours. I won’t leave early.”

“Okay.” Luo Mijin casually opened her laptop, and after some fiddling, the film began playing.

Outside, lightning flashed and rain poured, but the soundproof windows and curtains left them oblivious. Only the Cantonese film filled the silence between them.

Luo Mijin was slightly distracted during the movie, clutching the medicine she’d bought after school. She wanted to give it to Rong Qingyao but didn’t know how to bring it up.

Three hours passed in a blink. As the credits rolled, Luo Mijin lowered her gaze to the floor and said,

“Teacher, let me walk you out. It’s a long way to the bus stop. Also here, take this.”

Rong Qingyao tilted her head, as if surprised that a pampered heiress like Luo Mijin even knew where the bus stop was.

The next second, a cool tube of ointment pressed into her palm. Luo Mijin stammered, “If you’re uncomfortable, you can apply this.”

Almost instantly, Rong Qingyao realized what the ointment was for. A rosy flush crept onto her usually composed face.

Memories of that night flickered through her mind, how she’d guided Luo Mijin’s hands, how she’d clenched around her fingers, tighter and tighter.

“This is my number. You can call me before coming to class, it’s more convenient.” Luo Mijin seemed oblivious, her wide eyes innocent, like a docile little animal.

“If there are any issues, I’ll contact your parents. I hope our relationship remains strictly tutor and student.” Rong Qingyao bit her lip lightly, eyes downcast.

Yet she still took the slip of paper from Luo Mijin’s hand, as if compelled.

Luo Mijin stood and drew back the curtains, revealing the storm outside. “I remember you told me to forget what happened last night.”

“Yes. Thank you for remembering.”

A flash of lightning outside seemed to underscore the silent standoff inside.

Just then, the housekeeper knocked and entered. “Miss Rong, it’s unsafe to return to campus now. Please stay the night. I’ll prepare a guest room for you.”

“No need,” Rong Qingyao reflexively refused. “I can take the bus.”

“The bus service just announced suspensions due to flooding in the city.”

Rong Qingyao’s delicate brows furrowed. Checking her phone confirmed the buses had indeed stopped running.

“I’ll give you the room key. There’s no need to worry about safety, only the young miss and I are home tonight.”

“Alright, I’ll take my leave then.” Rong Qingyao had always known how to assess situations. Getting drenched in the rain and falling ill would only disrupt her part-time job and studies the losses would outweigh the gains.

Compared to that, the awkward encounter with Luo Mijin after their intense intimate moment seemed trivial.

Learning to process emotions and weigh pros and cons was what had given her wretched life a slight turn for the better.

The unfamiliar surroundings naturally left Rong Qingyao sleepless. She stepped out of her room and saw the floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the hallway, casting an indigo-blue hue.

The moonlight was bleak yet beautiful. Luo Mijin leaned against the window, her silhouette hazy, resembling the melancholic protagonist of an artist’s painting.

The girl’s jade-white fingers, slender and delicate as they held an ice cream, fluttered like butterflies prompting Rong Qingyao to entertain another untimely thought.

Perhaps there really was some inexplicable telepathy at play, because Luo Mijin turned her head abruptly, locking eyes with the woman in the dim light.

“Still awake this late?” Rong Qingyao forced a restrained, distant smile.

Luo Mijin’s gaze was misty and unfocused. “Couldn’t sleep. Wanted to see snow, but since there isn’t any, I sneaked some ice cream instead.”

She didn’t want Rong Qingyao to think she was odd, even though she’d never cared before whether others saw her as an outlier.

See snow and eat ice cream? Rong Qingyao didn’t understand, yet.

“Please don’t tell my grandfather about the ice cream.”

Rong Qingyao frowned slightly, puzzled as to why eating ice cream warranted secrecy.

“Why?”

“Grandfather doesn’t let me snack carelessly. If he finds out, I won’t be allowed out for the entire semester.”

Rong Qingyao found Luo Mijin’s strict upbringing strange, and in a fleeting glance, she noticed a faint scar beneath the girl’s eye.

But she had no intention of prying.

“Fine, I’ll keep it a secret.”

Noticing Rong Qingya’s indifferent expression completely devoid of any urge to dig deeper, Luo Mijin wondered if the woman was simply cold by nature.

“Teacher, do you want some?”

“No, I’m tired,” Rong Qingyao lied, though her insomnia from sleeping in an unfamiliar bed persisted.

“Did you apply ointment?”

“None of your business.” The woman’s soft voice carried no bite more like a coquettish tease than a reprimand.

“But that day, you asked for it so many times. I looked it up for the first time, it’s best not to be too rough. ”

Before she could finish, Rong Qingyao practically lunged into Luo Mijin’s arms, whispering a threat:

“Don’t you dare say it.”

The woman pressed against her, raven hair cascading down, collarbones pale against loose clothing that barely clung to her frame. Her reddened eyes glared fiercely, looking both innocent and pitiful.

“Fine, I won’t.”

Realizing how wantonly intimate their position was, Rong Qingyao quickly pulled away, reassuming her detached demeanor, though her breathy voice betrayed her.

“And never mention it again.”

**

Luo Mijin didn’t return to school until a month later, by which time Rong Qingya’s classes with her had already concluded.

The evening sunlight was gentle, and the emerald-green field of S University’s campus stretched before her. Settling in a quiet corner, her mood soared, untouched by the surrounding noise.

“I’ll gift it to her under that name. Thank you,” Luo Mijin said into the phone, only to notice a romantic confession unfolding nearby.

She’d never seen such an overt display before, so she glanced up curiously only for her exhilaration to freeze the moment she recognized the protagonist.

Would Senior Qingyao agree to this person?

The crowd egged her on with chants of “Say yes,” “Say yes,” but Rong Qingyao’s brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

“This is an electronic sheep delivery for you. Please sign for it.” Cutting through the onlookers, a delivery person presented Rong Qingyao with a bouquet of green roses.

The petals, pale in color, shimmered emerald under the sunlight, neatly wrapped in a velvet handkerchief.

Though not as flamboyantly striking as red roses, the bouquet’s unique charm, a testament to both thoughtfulness and considerable expense only served to irritate the confessing boy further.

Rong Qingyao turned around, the light and shadows playing across her face, lending her an air of cool detachment and mystique.

Luo Mijing watched as the woman moved gracefully against the crowd toward him, exuding a quiet intensity that was impossible to ignore.

“Hello, Professor,” she said instinctively, glancing at the ecological case she had brought, inside which was a green caterpillar.

“Junior Luo, did you send these flowers?”

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