My Wealthy Ex-Girlfriend Knelt and Begged Me to Come Back [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 36

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Ji Jiayu gripped the umbrella handle and turned to leave.

Suddenly, her wrist was grabbed—harder than she expected.

Qiu Miaoran stopped her with force. “Don’t go…”

“Crack!” The disposable plastic umbrella in her left hand bent under the wind and rain.

Qiu Miaoran tugged her along, pulling her from the street corner into a narrow alley.

Ji Jiayu did not struggle—or rather, she didn’t want to.

She thought it would be better to let it all out; the more hurtful, the better. That way, she could finally sever Qiu Miaoran’s strange attachment.

She could no longer maintain a half-hearted connection with her sister’s niece, and she could not continue pretending to be her friend with Qiu Miaoran against her conscience.

Unlike the bustling streets outside, this was a narrow passage between two buildings, barely wide enough for two people to pass side by side.

The woman’s fingers were long and delicate, slightly wrinkled from the rain, cool to the touch on Ji Jiayu’s wrist. “Stop this, Jiayu…”

Her voice was slightly hoarse, as if dampened by the rain. Qiu Miaoran’s tone sounded hazy, laced with mist, strangely enticing.

Ji Jiayu had never touched her credit cards, let alone driven the luxury cars bought for her—

“Isn’t what I gave you enough?” Qiu Miaoran thought.

“I raised your credit card to unlimited, upgraded it to a black card, cars, villas, bags, luxury goods—buy whatever you want, okay?”

“No,” Ji Jiayu tilted her chin, looking straight at her, eyebrows raised, lips curved into a faint, disdainful smile.

“You think I need money?”

“You still don’t understand respect…”

—No one is inherently superior or inferior. A healthy relationship must be based on mutual respect, equality, and care.

“Respect?” Qiu Miaoran lowered her gaze to the ground, pondering. She couldn’t understand what she had done to upset Ji Jiayu. After a pause, she said, “I don’t know why you’re angry… but you should come back.”

“Mr. Qiu,” Ji Jiayu lifted her delicate chin, her aura unyielding even when looking up, “I thought I had already made myself clear.”

“In that case, I won’t say it a second time.”

That day, when she left, she left a note—a deliberately humiliating message:
“You performed well last night, barely reaching the level of a mediocre masseuse.”

The alley was narrow; rain still fell. Ji Jiayu’s face was small and pale, strands of wet hair clinging to her neck and cheek. She looked up through the damp hair, her almond eyes clear as gemstones, reflecting Qiu Miaoran’s outline.

Qiu Miaoran stared at her, hair falling over her temples, giving her an increasingly gloomy look. “The contract?”

“You and I signed a contract. I’m your companion… are you going to break it?”

Qiu Miaoran’s voice trembled slightly.

Ji Jiayu’s voice slowed, eyes lifting. “Our romantic contract isn’t legally binding; it only governs moral behavior.”

“You knew that, didn’t you?”

Qiu Miaoran’s brows knitted. Without the golden glasses, her phoenix-like eyes looked sharper, dark and cold. She still held Ji Jiayu’s wrist, thumb lightly pressing the veins, caressing it with lingering attachment.

It wasn’t just about the 001 medical project. Qiu Miaoran had observed Ji Jiayu for many years, from high school onwards…

From high school to college, Ji Jiayu never remembered her, nor the encounter that night.

Qiu Miaoran always remained a spectator, in a third-person perspective, never intervening in Ji Jiayu’s life. She couldn’t intrude, couldn’t care too much.

In the fierce power struggles of the Northern City’s elite families, Ji Zhen, Ji Jiayu’s sister, could only come second.

When Ji Zhen was rescued from a mountain collapse, Qiu Miaoran had spared no effort to bring her back so Ji Jiayu would see clearly—only she could be Ji Jiayu’s match.

Even if Ji Zhen was her sister, she could only ever be second. Qiu Miaoran, a prodigious elite, always desired the top spot; she had to be the one Ji Jiayu cared about most.

Finally, having Ji Jiayu’s body, Qiu Miaoran could not believe Ji Jiayu didn’t like her.

Ji Jiayu slowly lifted her eyes, looking at her. “We can’t go back, Qiu Miaoran. I won’t return.”

Qiu Miaoran’s eyes reddened, veins visible. “Can’t go back?”

“You… like me, don’t you?”

Qiu Miaoran released her wrist and reached to brush a strand of hair from Ji Jiayu’s face.

“Call me ‘sister’ one more time, okay?”

Ji Jiayu stepped back, fully avoiding the gesture, laughing lightly, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Qiu Miaoran, what are you saying? You want me to call you ‘sister’?”

She felt guilty toward her sister, having toyed with this woman’s heart and body. She had to break clean.

“Let’s break up, Qiu Miaoran,” Ji Jiayu sighed lightly. “I guess I wasn’t clear before.”

Break up…

Qiu Miaoran’s voice trembled. “Really?”

Ji Jiayu nodded. “Yes.”

Ji Jiayu’s words didn’t seem serious to Qiu Miaoran—they had shared everything, two years of intimacy, understanding every detail, every mark on each other’s body.

Yet, Qiu Miaoran couldn’t believe Ji Jiayu was serious. She had once loved her so much. She would surely come back.

But now… her heart wavered, torn, aching.

“If you dare leave today,” Qiu Miaoran said, eyes closed, then slowly opened, voice low, “next time, even if you come to the top floor of the Wind Investment Tower to beg me, it’ll be useless.”

“That’s fine.” Ji Jiayu smiled faintly, glancing back as she left the alley.

At that moment, light from a store across the street illuminated her profile, revealing her delicate nose, the curve of her face.

“Even if I return to the city, we won’t see each other again,” Ji Jiayu said, turning and stepping away.

Qiu Miaoran chased after her, grabbing her shoulder, but Ji Jiayu was pressed against the wall.

Her breath mingled with Qiu Miaoran’s, scent of sandalwood and lingering smoke filling the air. The wet fabric pressed coldly against her back.

“What are you doing? Mm…”

Qiu Miaoran touched her cheek, lips slightly parted, then pressed forward, stronger than before. Their knees brushed, feeling each other through thin fabric.

Her lips tasted of chocolate-flavored lipstick, smoke lingering, and she bit fiercely, drawing blood.

Ji Jiayu pushed her away, eyes widened, voice sharp. “Qiu Miaoran…”

“Crazy…”

Qiu Miaoran touched her bloodied lips, shocked—the girl had learned to bite…

“I’ve never liked you, from start to finish,” Ji Jiayu said softly, yet her words pierced like needles.

“I only liked your face.”

This time, Ji Jiayu left, unimpeded.

—I only liked your face.

What did that mean?

—Never liked her…

Ji Jiayu didn’t like her?!

Who did Ji Jiayu like, then? Surely not Ji Zhen… that was impossible…

Rain still fell.

Qiu Miaoran returned to the city alone, carrying a suitcase, looking forlorn.

Her business trip to the South City, ostensibly for research data, had only been a ruse to find Ji Jiayu.

Yet Ji Jiayu refused to go and said “break up,” decisively.

Back in the capital, at Qi Shan’s birthday party.

Qi Shan’s hair was dyed black and tied neatly at the back, looking calmer than before.

She took a car key from Qiu Miaoran. “Ah… thank you so much, Qiu Miaoran, this is really… so kind of you,” she said.

Then Qi Shan shoved the key back into her pocket.

“Why didn’t you bring your wife this time? You said before you’d show her to us.”

Qiu Miaoran pursed her lips. “She’s busy. Unlike you, always idling around.”

“Your wife’s new drama aired; she’s really beautiful.”

“To be honest, she might become famous. You, Qiu Miaoran’s girlfriend, might become a star in the future~”

“When can we meet her in person?”

Qiu Miaoran looked up, scanning the room. “We broke up.”

“Ah…”

“Really broke up?!”

Zhang Yi’s eyes widened, excited. “Really? That’s great! She’s so pretty, now that you’ve broken up…”

“Shut up,” Qiu Miaoran cut her off sharply. “She’s my wife—don’t even think about it.”

“…”

“And Lin Qiaoxuan?” someone asked.

“Qiu Miaoran, now that you’ve broken up, are you still going to the Lin family wedding?”

“This marriage won’t happen. I’ve withdrawn. Don’t bring up Lin Qiaoxuan again.”

The Lin family held grudges over this… Qiu Miaoran had almost been trapped last time visiting Tongda Investment.

Back then, Lin Wan tried to expand the market, using Lin Qiaoxuan as leverage. Qiu Miaoran barely opposed, relying on the Lin family’s status for protection.

The marriage was arranged, but Qiu Miaoran had grown stronger, no longer a powerless child needing backing. She could now protect the girl she loved.

She didn’t fear vulnerability, only that Ji Jiayu would forget her again.

Qiu Miaoran picked up a glass, took a sip of beer, and asked, “So, what kind of guys do young girls like nowadays?”

Ji Jiayu didn’t like her…

Perhaps young girls liked someone like Song Tingyu—strong, passionate, straightforward?

She held her phone, staring at her reflection. Was she too old-fashioned? Only six years older…

“One girl said I’m her type—rich and handsome,” someone joked.

“Shut up,” Qiu Miaoran scoffed.

Zhang Yi gave a more serious answer: “Girls like surprises, especially on birthdays or anniversaries—special dates, gifts, and different dates.”

Qiu Miaoran clenched her fingers on the glass. Birthdays… Her parents had died in a car accident; she never celebrated hers. She hadn’t thought to celebrate Ji Jiayu’s either.

Ji Jiayu was unlike the others—never revealing her birthday. Two years had passed… she hadn’t asked.

She realized that despite knowing everything physical about Ji Jiayu, she knew nothing else.

“Are gifts on birthdays important?” she asked.

“Yes, for girls,” Zhang Yi said. “The prettier they are, the more they care about the ceremony. Pretty girls use money to create it.”

Qiu Miaoran nodded, reflecting. But Ji Jiayu didn’t love money.

She remembered that day in South City, when Ji Jiayu had looked at her, lips slightly parted, eyes faint amber.

Soon, after her leave, Ji Jiayu returned from South City to the capital.

After breaking up, she severed contact completely. She had wanted to terminate her contract with Qiushui Entertainment but couldn’t bear to leave Rong Jie and Xiao Yao, nor pay penalties.

Qiushui Entertainment treated its artists well and had ample resources. She still loved being an actress and wanted to make her mark, at least equal to Ji Zhen.

After her leave, Ji Jiayu returned to the agency to meet Rong Jie and Xiao Yao, arranging new projects.

“The finance department never cleans the inbox; electronic documents can’t be sent! Now someone has to deliver physical copies,” sighed Xiao Wu in the elevator.

“I’m going to the head office anyway,” said a sweet voice. “Tell me the department and contact; I’ll deliver it for you.”

Xiao Wu brightened. “Alright, I’ll send the info.”

That day, Ji Zhen had traced the IP of someone sending virus-laden emails… and the result led her to the Qiushui Investment headquarters.

—Why was Ji Zhen in Qiu Miaoran’s company?

Ji Jiayu, curious, took a taxi to the headquarters, first going to the 23rd floor to deliver documents, then to the 34th floor to meet Ji Zhen.

The elevator opened, revealing a figure in a light khaki shirt, collar open to the second button, gray pants, neat and clean—Ji Zhen.

“Ji Zhen…” Ji Jiayu entered, blinking. “Why here? And why are you here?”

Ji Zhen pressed a finger to her lips, smiling, “Wait, you’ll see.”

The elevator had surveillance.

On the 34th floor, they walked out quickly.

Ji Jiayu’s left foot nearly missed the floor, wearing light pink high heels—slender and high-heeled.

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