Becoming the Comfort Alpha for the Aloof Movie Queen - Chapter 94

“It’s not worth it.”

Liang Ruojing smiled subconsciously, reaching out to touch Ming Tanqing. “What do you mean you know?”

“Know what? Sister Tanqing, I don’t understand.”

Ming Tanqing took a step back.

Liang Ruojing’s hand met empty air.

She was frozen in place, her feet seemingly taking root in the ground as a chill surged up from the soles of her feet. In a matter of seconds, it froze her heart as well.

Ming Tanqing turned away indifferently, dropping a single sentence: “Come back with me first.”

“My phone is in the hall.”

“Go get it.”

Ming Tanqing slowed her pace. Without needing further prompting, Liang Ruojing stepped forward to walk beside her.

The wild party grew more boisterous as the night went on; even Lin Xiuzhu was drunk, sitting next to the assistant director and babbling away.

As the two returned, an actor immediately ran over with a phone.

“Sister Ming, Little Liang, let’s take a photo together.”

Before Liang Ruojing could respond, an ethereal voice blocked the request.

“No, we have things to attend to.”

The young actor wanted to persist, but as their gaze shifted, they abruptly fell silent. “O-okay.”

Liang Ruojing also saw Ming Tanqing’s expression—all warmth and politeness had vanished, replaced by a coldness like frost.

As if annoyed by the Alpha’s slow movements, Ming Tanqing grabbed Liang Ruojing’s arm directly and pulled her out the door in front of everyone.

As the dark wooden hotel door closed, Liang Ruojing’s throat felt parched. She didn’t know what to say or how much Tanqing had guessed.

The Omega turned around, leaving a distance between them—a silent estrangement.

“Liang Ruojing, you know my gland has recovered,” Ming Tanqing said, her tone calm and certain.

This was a fact. Liang Ruojing admitted it.

At the same time, she felt a slight sense of relief. Was that all? That’s good.

Perhaps Sister Tanqing was just unhappy that she had kept it a secret.

Liang Ruojing said, “Sister Tanqing, I didn’t mean to hide it from you.”

Ming Tanqing listened quietly, saying nothing. Her long eyelashes pressed down over those affectionate peach-blossom eyes; her expression unreadable.

A second later, Ming Tanqing spoke again.

“Liang Ruojing, I don’t care whether you know or not. I want to know where you heard it from.”

“Dr. Fang told me.” Liang Ruojing’s palms were sweating profusely.

“Is that so?” Ming Tanqing raised an eyebrow, ruthlessly exposing her. “I’ve already called Dr. Fang. You knew before that.”

Liang Ruojing was speechless.

The air around her seemed to have been sucked dry, making it hard to breathe.

Her upbringing made it so she rarely lied. Not just because she wasn’t used to it, but because she couldn’t bear to deceive Tanqing.

Her silence was interpreted as stubborn resistance, and the tiny glimmer of hope in Ming Tanqing’s eyes was extinguished.

The Alpha’s silence and hesitation led to the only possible answer.

“You won’t say it? It doesn’t matter. I can ask myself.”

Liang Ruojing looked up in a daze.

Who was she going to call?

Dr. Fang was employed by the Ming family and had signed a non-disclosure agreement. Who could Tanqing call to ask?

If it wasn’t Yan Mei, it was Ming Peide.

The nauseating words spoken by that woman this morning resurfaced.

Liang Ruojing didn’t want to give them another chance to hurt Tanqing.

Ming Tanqing pulled out her phone and began dialing “137…” Suddenly, her hand was empty; Liang Ruojing had stepped forward and snatched the phone away.

She confessed.

“It was Yan Mei.”

Ming Tanqing acted as if she had expected it. “Madam Ming went to such great lengths to find you just to tell you my gland was healed?”

“Liang Ruojing, what else did she tell you?”

From their eye contact in the restroom until now, Ming Tanqing had been very calm—like a moving iceberg, silent but possessing world-shattering destructive power.

Liang Ruojing finally saw those grey-blue eyes clearly.

The same pair of eyes she had made laugh, felt warmth from, and seen lose focus… Now, they held only sadness.

Her vision blurred as tears fell like raindrops.

Ming Tanqing understood.

Liang Ruojing was sometimes slow, and her emotional expression was too direct, which inevitably made her seem silly. But Ming Tanqing liked that silliness—it was sincere and cute.

Now, Ming Tanqing equally hated Liang Ruojing’s overly expressive eyes.

It turned out it wasn’t a case of being too deep in character.

Liang Ruojing’s pitying gaze had always been for her.

The known past was like a razor blade they both held in their mouths; whoever spoke first would have their internal organs shredded.

Liang Ruojing’s voice was stagnant and hoarse. “She told me your gland disease was because you helped her seek treatment.”

Helped?

Ming Tanqing almost laughed at that word.

If being tied to an operating table and injected with anesthesia so many times that she developed drug resistance was “helping,” then she accepted it.

Yan Mei had withheld certain details, which ironically left Ming Tanqing with one final shred of dignity.

How nice, it turned out she wasn’t completely pathetic in Liang Ruojing’s eyes.

Ming Tanqing stood alone with her arms crossed, the cold overhead light carving her figure into one of solitude and desolation.

“Liang Ruojing, you shouldn’t have gone,” she said with a flat smile. “This is my private business.”

That word again.

Lightly separating them, drawing a line in front of Liang Ruojing, warning her: You are you, and I am I.

How could she not care? When Sister Tanqing was lonely, when she had nightmares, when she leaned into her embrace to draw warmth—Liang Ruojing wanted to know why.

“It’s not just your business!” Liang Ruojing blurted out. Meeting the Omega’s sorrowful gaze, the courage born of heartache quickly crumbled. She whispered, “I wanted to help you…”

Just as you helped me, I wanted to help you.

“Is that so?” Ming Tanqing’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “Is this the method you came up with?”

Their gazes crossed. Ming Tanqing lowered her eyes, her expression hidden in the shadows. Suddenly, two clear tears rolled down the Omega’s cheeks—silent, but hitting Liang Ruojing with a force that made her heart panic.

“Sister Tanqing, don’t cry.”

Liang Ruojing opened her arms and pulled Ming Tanqing into a forceful embrace. The person who seemed so tall in her mind felt like nothing in her arms—light as a feather, as if she would fly away if not held tight.

Ming Tanqing turned her face away, avoiding this compensatory attempt at closeness.

It turned out an embrace didn’t represent intimacy. Liang Ruojing had once been close to her soul, and now that was gone.

Even with someone in her arms, she felt empty.

The once elegant lily fragrance had changed its scent; a chill swept in, narrating a consequence more terrifying than anger—alienation.

Liang Ruojing would rather Ming Tanqing be furious, hit her, or scold her, than have her cry silently in her arms.

Why did things always go against her wishes?

She wanted to make up for her mistake, leaning close to Ming Tanqing’s ear to apologize repeatedly in a familiar posture and tone, trying to call back their former tenderness.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Each voice was lower than the last.

Liang Ruojing’s face was covered in tears again. She didn’t know if it was working; she just had a primal instinct that she couldn’t let go of this person. She could only strive to express her apology and her love.

“I’m sorry…”

A long silence is enough to make a heart die. Liang Ruojing’s tone was almost pleading: “I love you.”

Ming Tanqing was pierced by these words.

“Liang Ruojing, let go of me.”

“No.”

Liang Ruojing overlapped her hands, firmly locking the person in her arms.

Sister Tanqing’s strength was small; she couldn’t break free. There was still a chance for a turnaround, and Liang Ruojing wouldn’t let her go.

However, she underestimated Ming Tanqing’s resolve.

Ming Tanqing began to pry away the fingers clasped over her abdomen, using her whole body’s strength to pull them away one by one.

Liang Ruojing could see the Omega’s wet eyelashes blinking heavily and slowly, like an injured butterfly.

“Don’t… I beg you, don’t…”

Liang Ruojing shook her head frantically. It wasn’t that she lacked strength, but she realized she could no longer retain the person in her arms.

Finger by finger, bit by bit, Ming Tanqing slowly peeled Liang Ruojing out of her life.

She herself hadn’t realized that Liang Ruojing had quietly occupied so much of her existence. Peeling her away was like tearing off a layer of skin.

Ming Tanqing’s whole body was in pain. Her tears fell, landing on Liang Ruojing’s hand.

If this continued, she would get hurt.

Liang Ruojing let go.

It was so cold.

Even though the room temperature was high, even though the Alpha’s scorching body heat lingered on her skin, Ming Tanqing was still cold.

She looked at the disheveled Liang Ruojing in front of her.

“Ruojing, perhaps… we aren’t suitable.”

“No, how could we not be suitable?” Liang Ruojing moved as if to step forward, but afraid of making Ming Tanqing more upset, she stayed in place, desperately admitting her faults. “It’s my fault, Sister Tanqing. I’ll change, I really will!”

Ming Tanqing’s heart sank straight down.

“Now that you know so much, do you still expect us to go back to the past?”

Ming Tanqing choked up. “It’s impossible.”

“I really know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done things to make you unhappy. Don’t leave me…”

Liang Ruojing wiped her tears. She couldn’t cry anymore; it was too childish, too immature. From a third-person perspective, how could Tanqing accept her?

A helpless sigh reached her ears.

The next second, a pair of ice-cold hands lifted her face. Ming Tanqing’s features were pulled down by sadness. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Ruojing. You are very good. It’s me who has the problem.”

Liang Ruojing’s vision suddenly went dark, and her brain began to reel. She could only shake her head instinctively, denying what Ming Tanqing had said and what she was about to say.

“There’s no need for regret either,” Ming Tanqing said with eerie calmness. “Even if this hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have been with you.”

That’s a lie.

Liang Ruojing watched as Ming Tanqing cried silently.

“From age 12 to the relapse at 25—that period of time in my life was too long. I can’t tear it out.”

“You are different, Ruojing,” Ming Tanqing smiled and continued. “I am a broken person. You have a happy and perfect family. There’s no need for you to be with someone riddled with holes and bear her pain. It’s not worth it.”

It’s not like that.

Liang Ruojing wanted to speak.

Ming Tanqing saw right through her.

“You want to say you don’t care? That you can accept it?”

Ming Tanqing was standing there, but in reality, her soul and body were in pieces.

“Liang Ruojing, how can your reaction make me believe you? You can accept it, but what about your family?”

Ming Tanqing’s voice trembled. She curled her lips into a smile at Liang Ruojing, mocking her:

“And can you really accept it? You can’t even stop your tears.”

Liang Ruojing shook her head. “It’s not like that, Sister Tanqing. You are wonderful.”

But her tears continued to flow.

Flowing for the destined end of this conversation.

Ming Tanqing steadied her gaze.

“I cannot be with someone who pities me. You should go.”

“It’s not pity… my heart aches for you.”

If she spoke any more, Liang Ruojing would cry again. Afraid of confirming that “charge,” she bit her lip and stopped talking.

There were so many points Liang Ruojing could have refuted one by one.

She liked her. Ming Tanqing was the best person in the world—not a broken person, not someone riddled with holes.

She didn’t care.

Her family wouldn’t care either.

Liang Ruojing could stay with her for a long, long time—until the past became insignificant, until she was no longer troubled by nightmares.

But…

She couldn’t even believe in herself. How was she supposed to take care of Sister Tanqing? By relying on her childishness, her impulsiveness, her immaturity?

Ming Tanqing’s tears were like knives cutting into Liang Ruojing.

Only at this moment did she truly understand what she had done.

Ming Tanqing’s past was a scar stuck to her heart.

A chronic illness is hard to cure. She could have chosen to use a cotton swab to peel it away bit by bit, but she had chosen to rip it off all at once.

Now, she had to face the bloody reality.

Liang Ruojing hated herself for appearing too early. Why did she have to meet the right person at such an immature age?

She also hated herself for appearing too late. Why wasn’t she there to save Sister Tanqing when she was 12?

Liang Ruojing finally stopped her tears.

She looked at that frail and fragile figure. “Sister Tanqing, did you ever like me?”

“Ruojing, liking has no meaning.”

Ming Tanqing smiled at her, tears sliding down her cheeks as she said softly:

“Once you walk out that door, forget about me. If you think of me again, you’ll be sad.”

“Not thinking of you is what would make me sad,” Liang Ruojing murmured.

Her heart constricted painfully—not because Ming Tanqing had rejected her, but because she had become one of the people making Ming Tanqing sad.

Even if that wasn’t her intention.

Walking out of this door meant throwing Ming Tanqing back into the darkness and loneliness. Liang Ruojing couldn’t do it.

“Sister Tanqing, I hope you are happy.”

Ming Tanqing lowered her head despondently. “I want to be alone.”

Getting no response, she added, “I beg you.”

A few minutes later, the heavy sound of the Alpha’s footsteps echoed in her ears, and Liang Ruojing gently closed the door.

At the very end, she saw Ming Tanqing go into the inner room.

Then, there was the sound of trickling water.

Liang Ruojing didn’t leave, of course. She wanted to wait for the next day to arrive. Perhaps after a night’s sleep, Tanqing would change her mind.

And she would behave better.

Today wasn’t a good time.

She had only found out everything that morning. Before the day was even over, she hadn’t finished processing it.

Liang Ruojing thought that Sister Tanqing should give her another chance.

She was childish, naive, and impulsive, needing Tanqing to help her with everything. Didn’t Tanqing still think she was “good”?

Sister Tanqing should be a little more lenient with herself.

Liang Ruojing was afraid of missing something and didn’t dare move away for a single second.

In a daze, she seemed to return to the night she first met Ming Tanqing.

At the villa, she had also stood guard outside Ming Tanqing’s door like this.

Liang Ruojing sat on the floor, leaning her back against the door panel.

It was now 4:00 AM.

The emotional highs and lows had kept her nerves taut. Once she relaxed slightly, physical and mental exhaustion surged in like a tide.

Liang Ruojing had a dream.

She dreamed that Ming Tanqing was being kidnapped, and she stepped forward to rescue her from the hands of Yan Mei and Ming Peide.

Tanqing said: “How should I repay you?”

Liang Ruojing said: “It’s so simple! Let’s be together!”

“Okay.” The Tanqing in the dream looked so happy.

Harsh sunlight woke Liang Ruojing from her dream. She suddenly felt like she was falling and regained consciousness within a second.

She was in bed.

Wait!

That’s not right!

“Sister Jing, you’re awake,” Xiao Xing approached, muttering. “Why did you drink so much? No matter how I called you, you wouldn’t wake up…”

Liang Ruojing ignored her assistant’s flustered expression and rushed bareheaded toward the balcony. Her clothes fluttered as she landed on the neighboring balcony.

It was empty.

Ming Tanqing was already gone.