My Wealthy Ex-Girlfriend Knelt and Begged Me to Come Back [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 29

Qiu Miaoran furrowed her brows slightly, a trace of doubt in her heart.
“Does Aunt like female celebrities?”

“If you need, I can have Assistant Li introduce you to a female companion. The group owns talent agencies.”

Ji Chen shook her head, sighing, her tone sounding resigned.
“I’m not like you people. I don’t need business dealings,”

“I don’t need any companions.”

“That’s true.” Qiu Miaoran nodded lightly.

Who would bring a girlfriend into a laboratory anyway?

Before going to sleep, Ji Jiayu, as usual, sent a message to Qiu Miaoran, who was far away overseas—

[Ji Jiayu]: Goodnight. Different time zones, I’m heading to bed first~

A minute later, a reply came—

[Qiu Miaoran]: I’m about to board.
[Qiu Miaoran]: Goodnight.

The phone screen dimmed. Ji Jiayu lay down on the two-meter-wide bed, her frail, slender body sinking into the top-grade latex mattress engineered for ergonomics.

In her ear, the system’s voice chimed:

[Life Value +2. Less than 10% away from 100%. Host, keep it up~]

Her phone buzzed again—

A new notification popped up.

[Chen Yiying]: Tomorrow’s the Group’s Annual Meeting. I gave you the invitation a few days ago—don’t forget to come, okay?
[Ji Jiayu]: I won’t forget. I’ll be there.
[Chen Yiying]: Then see you tomorrow.
[Ji Jiayu]: [/OK]

She had spent the whole day running around with the drama crew for a variety show promo, flying back to Nancheng by evening.

When she returned to Qiushui Residence, it was already close to 11 p.m.

Exhausted, she nearly collapsed straight into sleep.

On the ground lay a girl. Her dress had been shredded by glass shards, hem soaked in blood. She was unconscious, caught between life and death.

Another young girl was restrained, wrists locked in handcuffs. Someone pressed down on her shoulders and shoved her hard. With a dull thud, she fell to her knees.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her… really, I didn’t…”

Her skirt hem flew up. Her knees smashed onto the floor, burning with pain. The rough ground scraped her pale skin raw and bloody.

She lifted her face. Her long lashes quivered violently, eyes brimming with panic and helplessness. Her jawline was thin, her complexion pale as paper, dotted with splatters of blood.

It was a face identical to Ji Jiayu’s.

This “Ji Jiayu” had reddened eyes, her nose tinged pink, as though steeped in peach blossom dew. Her face glowed like a peach in bloom—slender brows, almond-shaped eyes—

She was crying hysterically, fragile to the extreme.

Like a weeping fairy, beautiful to the point of seduction.

The way she cried was heartbreakingly alluring.

This “Ji Jiayu” leaned desperately toward the figure before her. Tears slid instantly down her cheeks, yet her gaze still clung to the person with glistening eyes.
“Don’t leave… please…”

She was like a dog wagging its tail for mercy—pathetic, sickly, and crazed.

The woman opposite tilted her head slightly downward. Strands of hair fell past her shoulder, one brushing against her cheek, sticking to her vivid lipstick. Her eyes were as dark as ink. Her eyelids twitched faintly. She looked down at “Ji Jiayu” from above, her gums trembling as she spat out a word—

“Get out.”

Her voice was glacial, as if Ji Jiayu were something filthy.

Her lips parted again, voice dripping with disgust—

“Disgusting.”

Truly disgusting.

The “Ji Jiayu” was dragged up from the ground by house staff. The other woman’s features were clearly etched into her eyes—slender brows furrowed, phoenix eyes black and cold, filled with loathing.

It was a face identical to Qiu Miaoran’s.

A chill spread through her back. Her body plunged into an icy abyss.

So cold.

Ji Jiayu shivered violently, her insteps taut, toes curling against the blanket. She snapped her eyes open, breathing raggedly, chest heaving like a fish gasping on dry land.

Her cheeks were cold. Tears slipped down her thin jawline, dampening the pillow beneath.

Above her was only the dim ceiling. The overhead light extinguished, glowing faintly in the night.

The dream’s plot was disjointed—

At the West Gate of Film Academy, she and Ji Chen embraced in farewell. Ji Chen said, “Wait for me to find you.”

Beside the dormitory, in the small grove, she parted with Song Tingyu, their temples brushing. Song Tingyu whispered, “Senior loves you.”

In the presidential suite of a hotel, she was in bed with Qiu Miaoran. Ji Jiayu murmured, “Sister, love me.”

But in every dream, the ending was the same—she was abandoned, stripped of everything, dragged to a dark prison, to wither away, forever reduced to gossip for the wealthy.

She’d lost count of how many times she’d woken from this nightmare.

Ji Jiayu was always the one discarded.

It was as though she had fully merged with the character “Mu Qingyu,” while Qiu Miaoran had become one with “Ji Mingyue.”

She begged for Qiu Miaoran’s forgiveness, only to be kicked aside.

Awakening from the dream, she realized she had sunk too deep into the role.

She couldn’t even tell if she was herself anymore, or just a character in a play.

Inside the Tiancheng Hotel, the grand Jinling Hall was fully booked for the annual event.

At the entrance of Qiushui Venture Capital Group’s annual meeting, servers stood ready to guide guests.
“Welcome. Do you have your invitation?”

As shareholders, the Chen family naturally had invitations.

Chen Yiying pulled one from her handbag, flashing it before walking into the hall. Not far into the corridor, she suddenly spotted a familiar figure.

Her red lips trembled. She could barely believe her eyes. Her voice quivered as she called out—
“Qiao Xuan-jie!”

Lin Qiaoxuan, who had been studying for her MF abroad, had returned. From Xinghai back to Beijing, specifically for Qiushui Venture Capital’s annual gala.

Click, click, click— high heels tapped against the floor, footsteps quickening.

“I missed you so much, Qiaoxuan-jie! I didn’t expect you to come back early…” Chen Yiying hurried over, clutching a glittering gold evening bag, arms outstretched. “Hug…”

Once she had her in her arms, her hair was softly stroked.

“Little Chen, how old are you now, still asking for hugs?”

“I just really missed you,” Chen Yiying pouted. “Wasn’t it supposed to be another year? Why are you back so soon?”

Lin Qiaoxuan had been in a six-year combined bachelor’s and master’s program abroad, originally due back next year.

“My credits and thesis are done. Of course I’d come back early. Why? You don’t want me back early?”

Chen Yiying shook her head quickly, long lashes fluttering as she turned slightly away, dodging Lin Qiaoxuan’s gaze.
“Of course not…”

“Qiaoxuan-jie, my dad asked me to help him find Director Wu. Go enjoy yourself for now, I’ll find you later~”

“Alright.” Lin Qiaoxuan nodded.

Right now, Chen Yiying’s feelings toward Ji Jiayu were complicated. After collaborating on a drama, she realized Ji Jiayu wasn’t the kind of woman she’d imagined—

She wasn’t some malicious homewrecker.

In fact, Ji Jiayu was kind. At her core, not a bad person at all. Cold on the outside, warm within—sharp-tongued, but always looking out for her.

It felt like having gained a new older sister.

Yesterday, while promoting the new drama, Chen Yiying had given Ji Jiayu an invitation. She’d even reminded her to attend the gala last night. But now—this was bad. Ji Jiayu was about to cross paths with Lin Qiaoxuan.

One was Qiu Miaoran’s fiancée.
The other, Qiu Miaoran’s current lover.

Chen Yiying faltered. She didn’t want them to meet.

She lowered her head and quickly sent a message—

[Chen Yiying]: Jiayu, are you here yet?
[Chen Yiying]: I suddenly don’t feel like attending anymore.
[Ji Jiayu]: What’s wrong? I’m already inside the hall…
[Chen Yiying]: Nothing. I’ll come find you later.
[Ji Jiayu]: Okay.

After replying, Ji Jiayu locked her screen. Feeling thirsty, she headed toward the bar.

“One lemon soda, please.”

“Certainly. Please wait a moment.” the server replied.

Not far behind, murmurs rose from the crowd—

“Let’s hope President Qiu treats Miss Lin better after marriage, and cuts ties with those other women.”

“Miss Lin doesn’t have time to accompany President Qiu often. It’s normal if he sought company before marriage. But a counterfeit will always be a counterfeit. No way he’d truly care for her. Now that Miss Lin is back, the Qiu and Lin families are probably planning the wedding already.”

“Shh! Don’t talk like this here. These are all company people!”

“…”

The glass was set down in front of Ji Jiayu.

“Your lemon soda, ma’am,” the server reminded her.

“Oh, thank you.” Ji Jiayu snapped out of her daze, lifting the glass to sip.

Today’s lemon soda tasted bitter. Too little sugar.

Her phone lit up again—another message from Chen Yiying.

Ji Jiayu didn’t look. She lifted the glass and turned toward the terrace.

It felt too stifling inside. She needed air.

There was already someone on the terrace. Ji Jiayu halted.

The woman wore a red strapless gown, sequined hem glittering under the lights. She was on the phone.

“Qiu Miaoran, my wealth, my family background, my intelligence—all are enough to match you. Marrying me is your father’s wish. It benefits both the Qiu and Lin families. Aren’t you a rational person? You wouldn’t… seriously care for that counterfeit, would you?”

“…”

Her tone was agitated, her voice unrestrained. Even without eavesdropping, the words carried clearly.

As she turned, her face came into view—eyes downcast, lips curved faintly. Dimples appeared on her cheeks. Her makeup was light, exuding a gentle, classical aura…

She looked young. Barely twenty.

The moment Ji Jiayu saw her, her gaze froze. For an instant, she was stunned. That face—it bore some resemblance to her own, especially around the eyes.

But it was the word she overheard—“counterfeit.”

The word stung.

She shouldn’t care. Yet her nose prickled, a sour ache rising in her chest.

She had no right to feel wronged. As a hidden lover, what claim could she possibly have?

She’d never loved Qiu Miaoran. She was never anyone’s shadow.

But her heart still twinged, sharp as needles, swelling with a dull ache.

She hated this feeling. This impending sense of abandonment.

She’d been abandoned three times already—

By her biological parents, by Sister Ji Chen, and by Song Tingyu. Whether intentional or not.

A cat abandoned too many times fears being left again. This was the abandoned cat effect.

Even without love, people are left trembling with fear.

She didn’t want to hear more.

Ji Jiayu turned sharply. Her heels clicked fast against the floor.

At this annual gala, aside from Assistant Li and Chen Yiying, she knew no one.

She just wanted to escape.

Catching a server in the corridor, she handed back her glass. “Don’t need this anymore. Please return it.”

“Of course, ma’am.” The server nodded.

Sniffling faintly, she lowered her gaze and saw Chen Yiying’s messages. She replied—
“Alright. I’ll leave too. The gala’s really boring.”

At the same time.

Nearby, a middle-aged society lady asked a server, “Excuse me, have you seen my daughter?”

“Miss Lin? I just saw her go that way.” Someone pointed.

Anxious to find her daughter, the woman hurried forward.

She didn’t notice the chair tucked behind a wall.

By the time she realized, her foot caught on its leg. She gasped, knees buckling, body pitching forward—

“Careful!” Someone caught her.

The lady lifted her head. The hands gripping her arms were so pale, so slender, trembling slightly from the effort, yet pulling her upright at the last second.

Thanks to this girl, she hadn’t fallen badly.

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said, standing again.

“It’s nothing,” the young voice replied.

The lady froze when she saw her rescuer’s face. “You…”

In her eyes, that delicate figure—when she saw Ji Jiayu’s face, her fingers quivered, lashes fluttered rapidly, pupils dilating.

Impossible.

It was impossible for coincidence to be this uncanny…

But as a mother, when facing her own child, the intuition was overwhelming.

People want to escape in moments of upheaval. Ji Jiayu frowned slightly, uneasy.
“If you’re fine… I’ll be leaving.”

Something felt strange. She turned to go.

But suddenly, her arm was gripped tightly again.

Ji Jiayu stopped, leaning closer despite the pain from the woman’s grasp. Her lashes fluttered as she asked softly,

“What’s wrong? Do you feel unwell?”

“No, no…” The woman’s fingers trembled as she slowly let go. She lowered her eyes, blinking hard.

When she looked up again, her eyes were red, a tear sliding from the corner.

“My eyes are just irritated. Maybe something got in.” she said.

Ji Jiayu quickly leaned forward, reaching for tissues from a nearby table, handing them over. “Here, wipe it.”

The woman dabbed her eyes. “Don’t go just yet.

“Child, don’t go.”

Ji Jiayu glanced around. A server was close by. She turned her head.
“Do you need me to call someone for you?”

“I don’t need that…” The woman shook her head gently.

“Child, my surname is Lin. Today, you helped me. Without you, I’d have been badly hurt.

“I’d like to treat you to a meal, may I?”

“Auntie Lin, there’s no need. Even if it weren’t you, I would have helped,” Ji Jiayu replied.

“No…” Lin Wan shook her head. “What I mean is, I’d like to get to know you. And then, have a meal together. May I?”

Auntie Lin’s smile bloomed, warm as spring sunshine. Comforting.

All her unease and restlessness melted away in an instant.

“Of course,” Ji Jiayu nodded. Just looking at this Auntie Lin gave her a strange sense of closeness. “Let’s exchange WeChat.”

They swapped contacts.

Just then, her phone lit with a new message notification.

Guessing it was Chen Yiying urging her, Ji Jiayu waved lightly.

“I have something to do. Goodbye, Auntie Lin~”

Leaving the banquet hall, she spotted Chen Yiying in the lobby.

Walking over, head slightly bowed, she opened the latest message.

The black motorcycle avatar that had lain dormant for two years had lit up again—

[Ji Chen]: I’m back…

Just four words.

Like a faint sigh.

Like a wandering soul in the Alps, finally returning home.

“Xiaoyu, why are you crying?” Chen Yiying’s puzzled voice came from beside her.

Ji Jiayu lifted a hand, rubbing away the dampness beneath her eyes with her fingertip.

“It’s nothing,”

“It’s just… my eyes are a little uncomfortable.”

She repeated exactly what the society lady had said.

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