My Ex’s White Moonlight Omega Has a Crush on Me - Chapter 29.2

Half an hour later, Chao Wan reached the end of the thick script, her heart rippling with emotion, the vivid and intricate scenes still lingering before her eyes.

It was a classic female-led drama, telling the story of Li Xichuan, the Wolf Girl General, and the young princess she fiercely protected.

Their youthful emotions were sincere and pure, but once entangled in the bloodless yet treacherous court, happiness often turned to regret.

The young princess saved Li Xichuan, who was ostracized and struggled with the human language, spending over a dozen nights with her in the vast desert.

Later, the princess was placed on the throne as a puppet, while Li Xichuan, speaking broken Central Plains dialect, infiltrated the military camp, pledging loyalty to the once young and kind-hearted new ruler.

But the ending was far from happy.

As women in an era of warring states, they were already like marionettes, manipulated at will, let alone the fragile bond between Li Xichuan and the princess.

The script ended with an open conclusion: the young princess’s fate remained unknown, while Li Xichuan, after slaying the power-usurping Princess Han Yun in court, set off alone into the desert.

Returning home was also a way to revisit the memories of her first encounter with the princess.

Moved by the plot, Chao Wan suddenly felt a strong urge to revisit the original novel. She picked up her phone and scrolled through it, only to realize that Ji Tanyue’s last message had been sent twenty minutes earlier. She had been so engrossed in reading the script that she hadn’t even noticed.

[y: Read carefully. I’ll quiz you when you get back.]

Chao Wan sent a perfunctory sticker of a bird nodding. For some reason, her emotions felt tangled. Having empathized so deeply with the script earlier, she had already harbored no fondness for Han Yun, the ruthless and cunning female antagonist. And since she had imagined Ji Tanyue’s face on the character the entire time, seeing the woman’s message now felt a little unsettling.

In the story, Han Yun had cruelly poisoned her own sister, the princess, rendering her mute, and had schemed to trap Li Xichuan, leaving him severely wounded by rebel forces. Though she ultimately failed to seize the throne, her actions led to an eternal separation between the two lovers.

Wouldn’t taking on such a role invite backlash?

Chao Wan bit her lip, suddenly feeling worried for Ji Tanyue.

Just then, a new message from Ji Tanyue popped up beneath the nodding bird sticker.

[If your performance isn’t satisfactory, you’ll have to come to my room tonight for a review.]

A review?

Chao Wan’s cheeks flushed with warmth, and her heart fluttered anxiously. Perhaps she shouldn’t be worrying about Ji Tanyue, she should be worrying about herself. Ji Tanyue was truly no different from Princess Han Yun; both were cut from the same wicked cloth.

Dinner was delivered punctually to the villa, each dish exquisitely prepared. Chao Wan sat alone at the table, picking at her food without much appetite. For most of the time, she was still meticulously studying the script beside her, silently committing her lines to memory.

Ji Tanyue’s schedule today was packed, and by nearly 11 p.m., there was still no sign of her at the entrance. Chao Wan obediently followed instructions, reviewing the sections she might be tested on later. Perhaps it would be the scenes involving the young guard, so she had memorized almost all of the young guard’s interactions with Han Yun.

The more she recited, the more immersed she became. It was as if she could see the young guard, a tragic figure so insignificant that she didn’t even have a name for most of the story, who, upon catching a glimpse of faint light in the mud, willingly threw herself into the flames, committing every vile deed for Han Yun.

Yet, Chao Wan adored this character.

She imagined the most pivotal moment in the young guard’s storyline…

Han Yun, arrogant and emboldened by her brief usurpation of power, brazenly appointed the lowly guard who tended her courtyard as the Grand General of the Nation, directly challenging Li Xichuan.

On the day of the appointment, the young guard knelt in the hall, oblivious to the flood of flattery and congratulations around her. Her eyes filled with adoration, she gazed up at the new ruler, who smiled gently from the throne, and bowed her head low as she always did.

“Your servant thanks Your Majesty for this great honor.”

Having served Han Yun for nearly five years, this was the first time she referred to herself as “your servant,” and it sent a secret thrill coursing through her. She had become Han Yun’s subject, no longer just a dog. She could do so much more for the princess now, and surely the princess would rely on her even more, right?

If only Han Yun would smile at her alone again, just like when they first met, and casually ruffle her messy, unkempt hair without hesitation, that would be even better.

That night, she was dispatched to hold off the rebel forces led by Li Xichuan outside the capital.

“You’ve been by my side for so long. So, even if it costs your life, you’ll protect my reign.” Han Yun lifted the young guard’s chin, smiling. “Won’t you?”

The young guard nodded dazedly, her admiration plain in her eyes.

“Your servant obeys the decree.” She kowtowed deeply.

This was a battle destined for defeat, a desperate measure for Han Yun to cling to survival.

Her subordinates, having caught wind of the news beforehand, scattered like loose sand, retreating and defecting to the enemy. Yet the young guard stubbornly remained in the capital, steadfast but futile in her efforts.

Until she was struck from her horse.

As she fell, she still clutched tightly to a red cloth strip.

She had tied the red ribbon from the military tally, given during her appointment, around her wrist.

Every time she touched it, she could recall the memory of Han Yun descending from her high position, smiling as she helped her rise.

But now, she would never see it again.

Chao Wan crouched at the edge of the sofa, imagining the scene of the young guard falling from her horse, and wiped her eyes, feeling a hint of moisture.

“What is your name?”

Suddenly, a voice spoke beside her.

Still immersed in the emotions of the scene, Chao Wan’s eyes were red-rimmed as she looked up in a fluster.

Ji Tanyue had returned at some point and now stood before her, looking down from a commanding height.

Chao Wan parted her lips slightly.

The question just now was a line from the script.

Was Ji Tanyue rehearsing with her?

The overwhelming presence of authority made it hard for Chao Wan to breathe, and being abruptly pulled into the scene, she instinctively fell into a submissive position.

Her mind raced as she tried to recall the script’s lines.

Suddenly, her face was gripped tightly by a cold hand, forcing her to meet the gaze of the person before her.

The grip was so strong that deep red marks appeared on her fair cheeks, squishing them together.

Ji Tanyue lowered her phoenix-like eyes, her delicate brows relaxed, and the corners of her lips curved slightly into a smile as gentle as a spring breeze.

Her features were elegant and soft, yet they could not conceal the deeply suppressed shadow at the corners of her eyes.

Chao Wan’s eyes misted over, her mind in disarray, having long forgotten how to react.

“I’m asking you,” the woman said softly as she crouched down, her phoenix eyes curving gently.

Caressing Chao Wan’s face, her smile was delicate, yet a hint of brutality flickered in her eyes.

“What is your name?”

Princess Han Yun, a flat and hollow character in the script, had suddenly leaped into reality, vivid and alive.