My Wealthy Ex-Girlfriend Knelt and Begged Me to Come Back [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 24

Song Tingyu walked over, holding a paper cup, and handed the prepared cold medicine to Ji Jiayu without answering Qiu Miaoran’s questioning.
“Quickly drink the medicine, Jiayu…”

Ji Jiayu opened her hand naturally to take the cup, tilting her head slightly toward Song Tingyu as she introduced her to Qiu Miaoran.
“President Qiu, this is my friend. Her surname is Song.”

Song Tingyu’s fingers, hanging by her side, curled slightly.

Friend?

Right then, Song Tingyu lowered her lashes, her heart itching,
especially wanting to change Ji Jiayu’s words—

—to replace “friend” with “girlfriend.”

Ji Jiayu raised her hand toward Qiu Miaoran, introducing her patiently with a faint playful smile, her tone carrying a trace of light humor.
“This is President Qiu… I just switched to a new agency, and she’s our company’s investor.
In other words, President Qiu is our company’s sponsor.”

Qiu Miaoran’s lips pressed into a line. Behind her golden-rimmed glasses, her black lashes lowered, her eyes briefly dimmed. A heaviness settled in her chest, her face clouded with gloom. Her brows pinched before slowly smoothing out.

She silently grew depressed.

Ji Jiayu said… “our company’s sponsor”?

How she wanted to change that—

—to replace “our company’s sponsor” with “my girlfriend.”

What followed was two full minutes of silence.

“Mm,” Song Tingyu turned slightly, extending her hand toward Qiu Miaoran. “President Qiu of Qiushui Venture Capital… how could I not know you?”

After all, Rentai Medical and Qiushui Venture had dealings. Even if she didn’t want to know, Song Tingyu should have long known about Qiu Miaoran—cold-hearted in the business world, decisive in action, prioritizing return on investment above all, minimizing risks.

In short, Qiu Miaoran was deeply scheming—absolutely not a good person!

Ji Jiayu must not get too close to such a person.
Otherwise, she would be devoured, bones and all.

“An honor to meet you, Miss Song.” Qiu Miaoran extended her hand, slowly clasping Song Tingyu’s.
“Today you substituted for me in keeping Jiayu company. Now you’ve even brought her to the hospital and cared for her so well—it’s truly troublesome for you, Miss Song.”

Substituted for me—those two words were emphasized, Qiu Miaoran’s intent clear—

【At this very moment, Ji Jiayu belongs to me.】

“How could it be trouble? Jiayu and I had a wonderful time today.” Song Tingyu curved her lips into a smile, raising her brow slightly.
“Jiayu is wonderful in every way, except sometimes she throws little tantrums. I worry she’ll suffer losses. When I’m not around, it’s fortunate President Qiu has been substituting for me to keep Jiayu company.
I should be thanking you instead…”

“When I’m not around”—her tone rose, as Song Tingyu subtly declared—

【Ji Jiayu’s past belongs to me.】

Ji Jiayu held the cup, lowering her head to sip the medicine. Suddenly, she choked, coughing hard, “Cough—cough—”

“Slowly, don’t rush.” Qiu Miaoran frowned, walking over to take the cup from her hand. She glanced toward Song Tingyu, her voice faint yet pointed.
“Why is this water so hot? Is this how Miss Song takes care of people?”

For no reason at all, Qiu Miaoran began nitpicking, blowing gently over the cup until it cooled, then handed it back to Ji Jiayu.

“Jiayu choked? Are you alright? Did it go down the wrong way?” Song Tingyu also stepped forward, initially wanting to rub Ji Jiayu’s back.

But then she remembered how resolute Ji Jiayu had been today—one more step forward, and they might not even remain friends. Her hand, suspended in mid-air, stiffened and slowly withdrew.

Ji Jiayu raised her hand to lightly rub her chest, regulating her breath. She swallowed the medicine bit by bit, bitter taste lingering in her mouth, her complexion pale.

Sitting on the hospital bed, Ji Jiayu appeared fragile and slight—like a small cub, weak and delicate, as if a single gust of wind could knock her down.

“I’m fine…” Ji Jiayu clutched the cup, forcing herself to drink another small sip. “It’s just that you two are too noisy.
My head is spinning—could I rest alone for a while?”

“Alright.” Song Tingyu froze a moment, then turned toward the door. Pausing at the threshold, she cast a glance at Qiu Miaoran, still standing by the bed, and let out a soft sneer.
“President Qiu still won’t leave? Are you going to disturb the patient’s rest?”

“Rest well,” Qiu Miaoran’s lashes lowered, eyes glancing briefly at the floor before lifting again. Her black, ink-like eyes swept over Ji Jiayu’s small hand clutching the cup. “I’ll have Assistant Li send you home.”

“No need to trouble President Qiu. After I wake up, I’ll call a cab myself.” Ji Jiayu sat up, tossing the empty cup away.

Qiu Miaoran pressed her lips together. She neither agreed nor disagreed, as if tacitly permitting Ji Jiayu to take a cab home.

Tacitly permitting her… to hide the fact that they were living together.

The next moment, the crushed paper cup was taken from her hand.

Qiu Miaoran pulled the cup away and tossed it casually into the trash by the bed. She turned and left the ward, closing the door softly behind her.

…

Today, perhaps due to the medicine, Ji Jiayu slept soundly.

When she opened her eyes again,
the curtains were drawn, night had fallen outside. Nearby, streetlights glowed, and farther away, office building windows shimmered with light.

The room was dark, evoking the lonely feeling of waking from an afternoon nap to find the world engulfed in silence—just oneself, abandoned by the world.

Ji Jiayu climbed out of bed, dressed, and called a cab home.

Forty minutes later, the gates of Qiushui Residence opened.

Walking along the garden path, Ji Jiayu stopped at the door, pressing her finger against the lock. The door clicked open, and she stepped inside.

She was a little hungry.

A few days ago, she had bought cheese buns at a convenience store—she wondered if they were still in the fridge…

“Miss Ji is back?” Aunt Chen stood beside a laundry basket, an iron in hand, pressing freshly dried clothes.

“Mm… Aunt Chen, ironing clothes?”

After greeting her, Ji Jiayu went straight to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge. “Huh? Where’s the bread?”

“President Qiu asked me to throw it away,” Aunt Chen switched off the iron, wiping her hands on her apron as she walked over. “It was almost expired.”

“Oh…” Ji Jiayu nodded, still hungry, pulling out her phone to order takeout.

“Miss Ji, don’t forget the porridge—it’s still warm in the pot. I’ll serve you some.” Aunt Chen lifted the pot from the stove, ladled porridge into a bowl, and handed it over.

“Thank you.” Ji Jiayu accepted the bowl.

The porridge steamed hot, thick and sticky, rice grains boiled to bloom, mixed with minced meat and vegetables.

As she chewed, faint “crackling” sounds filled her mouth. Lightly salty fragrance spread across her tongue.

Warm liquid slid down into her stomach, soothing and comforting.

“Aunt Chen… this porridge is delicious.” Ji Jiayu finished it, and Aunt Chen took away her empty bowl.

While rinsing it, Aunt Chen said,
“This porridge wasn’t made by me. President Qiu came home after a dinner engagement and cooked it. She just went upstairs.”

Ji Jiayu’s lashes lowered, eyes flickering. Her hand rested on the marble counter.
“President Qiu can cook?”

“Yes, she can, though she’s busy and doesn’t do it often… I’ve cared for her for many years, but today is the first time I’ve seen her cook for someone else.”

Aunt Chen sighed softly, glancing at Ji Jiayu.
“President Qiu treats you very well.”

“Yes, she does treat me well, sometimes very well, but…” Ji Jiayu paused, swallowing the words.

But Qiu Miaoran’s kindness was like how a master treated a kitten—
picking it up to cuddle when she wished, feeding it, but never respecting its will.

Because from beginning to end, the relationship was unequal.

…

After finishing the porridge, Ji Jiayu went to her room to wash up.

Fresh from her bath, dressed in a nightgown, she sat on her bed, typing on her phone.

【Ji Jiayu】: The porridge was delicious. Thank you, President Qiu!

A minute later—

【Qiu Miaoran】: Don’t thank me. I made it for myself. You just happened to have some.

【Ji Jiayu】: Still, I must thank President Qiu.
【Ji Jiayu】: Your cooking is amazing~

【Qiu Miaoran】: Why don’t you explain what happened today at the hospital?
【Qiu Miaoran】: Am I your company’s boss?
【Qiu Miaoran】: You really washed your hands clean of me…

A sudden guilt stirred in Ji Jiayu’s chest. She quickly typed—

【Ji Jiayu】: Isn’t there a confidentiality clause in the contract?
【Ji Jiayu】: [photo]

She sent a picture of their contract, the confidentiality clause highlighted in neon marker—

(Party B must not publicize the identity of “the companion” in any form, nor cause reputational damage to Party A. If Party B breaches, Party A has the right to pursue liability…)

【Qiu Miaoran】: …
【Qiu Miaoran】: Didn’t expect Miss Ji to be so good at arguing.

【Ji Jiayu】: Are you still in your room? I’ll come find you.

Knock, knock—

Two minutes later, click.

The door opened.

Ji Jiayu stood at the entrance in a cream-colored camisole nightdress, hands tucked behind her back. Warm yellow light from the hallway cast a soft glow over her outline.

Fresh from her bath, her cheeks carried a faint flush. Her skin looked tender and soft, shoulders gleaming faintly.

Her hair was loosely tied, with a stray lock falling naturally behind her ear, trailing along her neck.

She looked particularly cute.

At such a close distance, one could see her lashes clearly—long and curled like little fans, her eyes shimmering.

Below, her collarbones dipped into shallow hollows.

Ji Jiayu softly asked, “Excuse me, may I come in?”

Her posture remained—hands behind her back, leaning slightly forward. A black lock swayed gently by her neck.

The room inside was dim, lit only by a desk lamp. The silhouette within was faint—Qiu Miaoran in a silver-gray robe, belt cinched tight around her narrow waist. Head slightly lowered, she glanced up at her.

“You want to come in?”

Ji Jiayu nodded.

When she first moved into Qiushui Residence, Assistant Li had warned her not to enter Qiu Miaoran’s study, attic, or bedroom.

She remembered.

But now, she was quietly testing Qiu Miaoran’s boundaries.

“I have something to give you,” Ji Jiayu said.

The door remained barely ajar. Qiu Miaoran clearly didn’t intend to let her in.

Stretching out her hand, palm open—
“Give it to me here.”

Ji Jiayu shook her head lightly. “Let me in first…”

“Can’t I come in?”

Suddenly—“bang!”—the door shut in her face.

No courtesy at all.

Knock, knock—

“President Qiu, please open the door… I’ll just give you the gift, I won’t come in, okay?” Ji Jiayu’s little hand tapped lightly, her voice soft and weak.
“I just want to talk about today.”

She even sounded a little aggrieved.

Footsteps inside grew closer. The lock clicked, and the door swung open—

The next instant, Ji Jiayu was yanked inside by the arm.

At last, she stepped into Qiu Miaoran’s bedroom—her most private space. The air carried familiar sandalwood mixed with bath scent, damp and warm.

Her hand slackened, and the thing hidden behind her fell to the floor.

A pink plush fox doll.

Bending down to pick it up, Ji Jiayu’s silk slip slid, revealing snowy-white skin, smooth and defenseless.

As she crouched, her skirt hem lifted, exposing slender, pale calves that looked fragile—
the kind that made one’s heart itch to hold them.

“This is for you,” Ji Jiayu handed her the fox.
“I caught it from the claw machine today. It’s a popular influencer online—its status is way higher than mine.”

“You went out with Miss Song this afternoon…” Qiu Miaoran hesitated, “Was it actually to get this for me?”

Ji Jiayu lowered her head slightly, her long lashes trembling.

She didn’t say yes.
She didn’t say no.

Only the warm desk lamp glowed, gilding her face with a shy, girlish softness—

A sight that made the heart itch more.

Qiu Miaoran rubbed the plush fox’s face with her fingers. “It’s cute. A bit like you.”

Cute. Like Ji Jiayu.

She squeezed it a while longer, then asked, “Why not give it to Miss Song?”

“I just want to say…” Ji Jiayu covered her lips with her hand, coughed softly, then looked up timidly, explaining,
“There’s nothing between Miss Song and me. We’re clean. Don’t misunderstand.”

“Mm.” Without glasses, Qiu Miaoran’s features were sharper, her eyes deep and ink-black as they gazed at Ji Jiayu. “But when she looks at you, her gaze isn’t clean. I’ve said it before…”

“If you’re with me, you can’t have a girlfriend.”

She emphasized again—their current identities, the mistress and her sponsor. A relationship of obedience and control.

As if afraid Ji Jiayu would forget.

Ji Jiayu looked straight at her, unflinching. Lamp light traced her hair. “When I was in school, I briefly liked her.

But Miaoran, that’s over. I only have you.”

She said—“I only have you.”

A sudden quickening of the heart.

Like soft cat paws brushing her chest, teasing, spreading a ticklish warmth.

“I’m done talking,” Ji Jiayu waved lightly. “I’ll go now.”

But Qiu Miaoran stepped forward, striding quickly to grab her wrist. “Stay with me.

I’m in a bad mood.”

Ji Jiayu froze, eyes flicking toward the fox in Qiu Miaoran’s arms. Extending a finger, she poked its head gently.

Her touch was soft, making the doll bob, brushing against her chest fabric—like a poke straight into the heart.

“It can keep you company, I can’t.” Ji Jiayu shook her head gently.
“I don’t want to tonight… Miaoran, I’m sick. I don’t want to pass it to you.”

“Nothing else,” Qiu Miaoran didn’t let go. That wrist was slender and smooth, the feel intoxicating. “Just stay in bed with me. Sleep one night.”

Ji Jiayu rubbed her nose, hesitating. “Mm…”

Qiu Miaoran’s fingertips tingled slightly from holding her.

Today, at the pool, Ji Jiayu’s near-drowning gaze; later, at the hospital, the reappearance of Miss Song…

All of it hinted—Ji Jiayu might not be entirely under her control.

Like a little fish slipping through her fingers, nearly lost.

It was unsettling…

“My mood is really bad today,” Qiu Miaoran pressed again.

Ji Jiayu lowered her head, fingers curling shyly, ears reddening. “Alright.

Since President Qiu isn’t afraid of catching my cold.

I already bathed. We can start now.”

Ah…

Even now, she teased like a little fox.

Thump-thump—

Qiu Miaoran’s heart jolted.

The next moment, she scooped Ji Jiayu into her arms.

The girl was petite—barely over 160cm, weighing less than 90 pounds. Delicate and easy to lift.

The bed sank as she set her down gently,
as if handling a cherished doll.

“What are you thinking? I said we won’t do anything. Don’t you believe me?” Qiu Miaoran leaned over, pressing her hand against Ji Jiayu’s lips, tracing them with her fingertip.

Soft, damp—like pudding.

Ji Jiayu blinked, her lips tingling from the teasing, but instead of pulling away, she kissed the finger lightly.
“How could I not believe? Thank you for sparing me tonight.”

Qiu Miaoran quickly withdrew her hand, standing stiffly at the bedside, her voice low.
“Then stop seducing me.”

Her soul was already hooked, yet she still couldn’t touch her…

Walking to the other side of the bed, she lifted the blanket and lay down.

Ji Jiayu turned over—

On the nightstand to her left, a photo frame lay facedown, concealing its picture.

Curious, she extended a finger toward it.

Just before she touched it—

Her wrist was seized harshly, yanked back so forcefully it hurt, as if it might break.

“Ji Jiayu,” Qiu Miaoran called her full name, pinning her hand.

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