My Wealthy Ex-Girlfriend Knelt and Begged Me to Come Back [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 47

Ji Jiayu slowly raised her hand.

Her fingers were pale and slender, idly twining a strand of jet-black hair. The movement was delicate and soft.
“We’ve broken up.”

“What happened?”

The voice was sweet and soft, like candy.

But Ji Jiayu’s gaze was blank, as if the matter of “breaking up with Qiu Miaoran” didn’t matter to her at all, nor did she mind others bringing it up.

“When the shoot’s over,” Song Tingyu said, “I’d like to invite Miss Ji for a cup of tea.”

“I refuse.” Ji Jiayu’s lips curved in a smile, her long lashes fluttering lightly. “I don’t like drinking tea at noon~”

That last “oh” rose slightly in pitch, lively and charming.

She meant nothing else by it, but her naturally sweet voice made it sound almost like she was acting coquettish.

Song Tingyu’s chest fluttered—her voice scratched at her heart like a kitten’s paw, leaving it ticklish.

“Oh, then no tea… how about dinner together after we finish?”

Ji Jiayu: “…”
This person really acted like she couldn’t understand human language.

“Director Song, I’m just here to shoot a video and take on an endorsement deal. I’m under no obligation to have dinner with you.”

Song Tingyu sighed. “Alright… then I won’t disturb you.”

This endorsement deal had been handpicked by Song Tingyu specifically for Ji Jiayu.

Usually a director wouldn’t need to show up for something like this, but she came anyway.

Even if she did nothing, just sitting here and watching Ji Jiayu made her happy.

Song Tingyu turned to her, “Don’t move.”

“There’s a strand of hair stuck to your lip gloss. I’ll get it for you.”

She leaned closer, fingers cautiously approaching Ji Jiayu’s lips.

Her lips, coated with glossy mirror shine, looked plump and dewy, like rose petals kissed by morning dew—so tempting.

Ji Jiayu didn’t move. Her curled lashes trembled slightly, casting faint shadows under her eyes. She let Song Tingyu come closer, her obedient stillness making her even more enticing.

Song Tingyu hooked the strand of hair with her fingertip, gently lowering it, then used a tissue to wipe away the tiny smudge of gloss. Her fingers trembled, her waist taut with restraint.

At that moment, she looked as if she were handling a billion-dollar deal.

The sweet fragrance of Ji Jiayu’s shampoo wafted toward her nose.

They were so close, they could feel the warmth of each other’s breath.

For a brief second, Song Tingyu was dazed—it was as if they were back in college, huddled together in a grove, Ji Jiayu whispering softly into her ear.

In the makeup mirror under the bright lights, their overlapping shadows stretched across the floor.

Melissa, returning with a curling iron, stopped short at the sight.

She pressed her lips together, quietly took out her phone, snapped a picture, and lowered her head to send it.

[Melissa]: [/photo]

A minute later, a reply came through.

[Song Zheng]: .

[Song Zheng]: I’ve saved it. Delete all backups of this photo from your phone.

When Song Zheng enlarged the photo, the person sipping tea beside him happened to glance at it. On seeing the image, he clicked his tongue.
“Who would’ve thought, President Song keeps such a close eye on his own family. You really guard against your own like they’re thieves.”

In Beijing’s elite circles, everyone knew the score:
The Qius, the Songs, the Zhangs, the Qis… none were strangers to vicious family feuds. The Qius fought so hard they nearly destroyed themselves, their numbers dwindling with each generation. The Songs were just as ridiculous—Song Zheng’s vicious ambition was written on his face like a feral dog’s snarl. Overseas, he’d even schemed to force his own cousin into marriage.

Song Zheng clicked his tongue softly, spreading his fingers to zoom in on the two women’s faces. His voice was low and unhurried:

“Day and night you guard… but you can’t guard against family thieves.”

The person shook her head with a sigh.
“With someone as cunning as President Song, I really need to think carefully about cooperating… If you turn on me one day, I doubt I could withstand it~”

Song Zheng squinted with a grin. The scar slashing across his face made him look even more sinister.
“You people in Nancheng don’t like wine—you prefer tea. That’s why instead of inviting Miss Lin to drink, I invited her for tea.”

He paused, emphasizing,
“Now that’s sincerity.”

Sitting across from him at the teahouse was none other than Lin Qiaoxuan.

Lin Wan had already handed her some responsibilities at Tongda Group, even assigning her projects. The Tongda Plaza development that recently trended online was one of them.

Today, Lin Qiaoxuan wore a fitted black skirt suit, the off-shoulder dress beneath accentuating her collarbones. A blue patterned silk scarf gleamed at her neckline.

Gone was the soft persona she showed on variety shows. Instead, she exuded a cool, sharp maturity, like a “Legally Blonde” lawyer—or rather, a wolf of Wall Street in sheep’s clothing.

After years abroad, she’d mostly been expanding Lin Wan’s network and managing overseas branches.

Even a battle-hardened player like Song Zheng, who usually treated women as toys, didn’t dare underestimate her.

She was beautiful, yes—but also dangerously formidable.

“Miss Lin, don’t forget…” Song Zheng poured tea into her cup. “This partnership is win-win.”

“If that medical project succeeds, the Qius will dominate Beijing. When that happens, even if you want a slice of the pie, it’ll be too late.”

The project—a fusion of neurology and computer science—was under Rentai Medical. The lead wasn’t Song Zheng but Song Tingyu.

The conglomerate had many factions, often sabotaging their own just to strike at rivals internally. It wasn’t just about acquisitions; it was about control of shares and decision-making power.

Steam curled from the freshly warmed tea.

Lin Qiaoxuan lifted the cup gracefully, her pale wrist contrasting against the dark red clay. After a sip, she set it down.
“It is win-win,” she agreed.

“But that woman—you’d better leave her alone.”

“Which woman?” Song Zheng frowned. “You mean my cousin?”

His jaw tightened.

—How could he not want to move against Song Tingyu?
Not finishing her off had always been his greatest regret.

“No…” Lin Qiaoxuan set down her cup. “The woman by her side. I’d advise you not to touch her.”

“Why?”

Her brows arched with the faintest curve.
“No reason.”

Just then, the scrape of a chair broke the moment.

“President Song, I’ve got other matters. I’ll be leaving.”

“Of course… Miss Lin, until next time.”

The wooden door slid open with a soft click.

—

At the parking lot, Lin Qiaoxuan stopped beside a white Cayenne.

The lock beeped open. She closed the door with a “thud,” fastened her seatbelt, and then—

The system’s noisy voice rang in her head:

[Billionaire Tycoon from Zero System]: I thought my host had changed… but you’re still the same ruthless one, willing to do anything for your goals. 🙂

Lin Qiaoxuan’s lips curved faintly.

“Before, when I mimicked her to please Lin Wan, that was my mistake—imitation only made me a cheap substitute.”

In the original plot, Ji Jiayu had gone to prison for intentional harm. But this time, Lin Wan had taken her home instead.

From that turning point, if Lin Qiaoxuan kept imitating Ji Jiayu, Lin Wan would only ever see her as a replacement.

That was never what she wanted.

She wanted to be unique. To become the queen of venture capital. To surpass every titan in the business world.

“Keep imitating, and I’ll only disgust her.”

[System]: Darling, you’re absolutely right! Brilliant as always!

[System]: So when you said not to touch Ji Jiayu—was that to help her?

“It’s not about helping Ji Jiayu. Or just the Lin family. If we count returns, yes, she’s one of them. But she’s not all of it.”

“Think bigger. Our target isn’t just Nancheng.”

[System]: Remember the mission: No losses. No bad debts. Stable profits. Sustainable growth. Four lines that made the tycoon beg you to inherit his empire.

The system sighed with relief. Its host hadn’t changed after all. She was still the ambitious one. Women were only distractions—pretty desserts, never the main course.

Lin Qiaoxuan lowered her gaze, unlocking her phone. Her wallpaper showed a lighthouse at dusk—tiny against the crashing waves, yet fearless before the sea.

How could someone who had faced the storm ever settle for second place?

Ji Jiayu was radiant and charming, a flower blooming in the desert, a star in the post-apocalyptic night. Beautiful—but never irreplaceable.

—A dessert, not the meal.

She unlocked the screen and sent a message:

[Lin Qiaoxuan]: Still in Beijing?

One minute later:

[Ji Jiayu]: Yeah, just finished shooting a short video. Why?

[Lin Qiaoxuan]: Wrapped up?

Before Ji Jiayu could reply, another message arrived.

[Lin Qiaoxuan]: I want to pick you up. A new Japanese place opened in Dongcheng. Let’s go? My treat.

Ji Jiayu had just finished her shoot when the message lit up her screen.

They hadn’t met since the variety show ended…

[Ji Jiayu]: Sure.

[Ji Jiayu]: [My location]

She sent her address, then locked her phone.

Her assistant Xiaoyao had arrived during the shoot. Now, seeing Ji Jiayu looking at her phone, Xiaoyao waved.

“Jiayu, the brand’s treating everyone to lunch across the street—Korean barbecue! Their pork belly’s amazing!”

Ji Jiayu shook her head. “You go ahead. I’ll pass.”

Xiaoyao’s shoulders drooped. “Alright then…”

“Actually, I won’t go either. I’ll just send you home.”

“You can go, Xiaoyao.” Ji Jiayu leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I’ve got plans—someone’s coming to pick me up.”

“Oh, okay!” Xiaoyao brightened, skipping to catch up with the group.
“Then I’ll go eat barbecue!”

Her face clearly showed how much she craved it.

Ji Jiayu waved. “Mm, bye~”

The group’s figures receded into the distance.

Ji Jiayu stood by the lamppost, waiting for Lin Qiaoxuan.

A motorcycle engine roared.

A black heavy bike pulled up beside her.

“Why didn’t you go eat with them?” A familiar voice called from behind the helmet.

Ji Jiayu turned. The rider was astride the sleek bike, one foot steady in leather shoes, waving at her.

It was Song Tingyu.

Somehow, she’d changed out of her skirt and now wore high-waisted trousers, her shirt tucked in, legs long and straight.

She removed her helmet, letting dark hair spill forward. Her eyes were long, her makeup bold, her features sharp and androgynous—handsome in a way that made her strikingly alluring.

“Where to? I’ll take you.”

Ji Jiayu looked at her, eyes clear but detached. “No need.”

“Someone’s coming to pick me up.”

Someone eager to have dinner with her.

Song Tingyu’s hand tightened on her helmet. Her brows pinched.

She’d even paid to treat the entire crew just so Ji Jiayu might join… yet she still refused.

“Why are you resisting me so much?” Her tone carried faint displeasure. “You’re single now… aren’t you?”

No one else was around—they didn’t need to fear anyone overhearing.

Ji Jiayu’s lips curled in irony, her head tilted slightly. “Yes, I’m single. But so what?”

“You expect me to have an affair with you? How do you think the gossip sites would spin that?”

She deliberately stressed the words: affair.

“I won’t get involved with a married woman.”

Every word stabbed into Song Tingyu’s heart.

Her brows sank, gaze lowering to the ground. She drew a deep breath.

Silence stretched.

At last, she parked the bike, stood by the roadside, adjusted her expression, and forced herself to look up. Her face had paled, lips trembling.

“You misunderstand, Jiayu. I just wanted to see you—as a friend. Nothing more.”

Ji Jiayu cast her a glance, voice cold.
“Fine. Do as you like.”

“I’m waiting here. If you want to stand around in the wind, be my guest.”

She looked utterly indifferent, as if they were strangers meeting for the first time.

Song Tingyu had seen Ji Jiayu in love—the girl’s dimples deep when she smiled, eyes crinkling, radiating warmth like sunlight caught even in her hair.

But now, she was treated with such icy disregard. The contrast cut deep.

Song Tingyu clenched her jaw. Once again, she regretted leaving, regretted abandoning her back then.

Even if she ripped her heart out now, Ji Jiayu wouldn’t spare her a glance—let alone pity.

As her chest twisted with remorse, the screech of brakes pierced the air.

A car skidded to a stop just short of her motorcycle. Its headlights blazed too bright for daylight.

Song Tingyu shielded her eyes, cursing inwardly.

—Crazy driver! Who the hell uses high beams at noon?!

It was a white Cayenne.

The driver’s door opened with a click. A young woman got out, walking straight to Ji Jiayu.
“Wait long?”

Ji Jiayu: “Not really.”

Song Tingyu’s lips twitched, her expression stiffening. She’d seen this woman before—

At Qiu Miaoran’s engagement banquet.

Qiu Miaoran’s fiancée… no, ex-fiancée!

First shock, then narrowing eyes, she studied Lin Qiaoxuan.

Lin Qiaoxuan reached Ji Jiayu, lightly taking her arm. “Let’s go…”

“Oh? And this is…?” Lin Qiaoxuan tilted her head innocently toward Song Tingyu, eyes wide and guileless.
“Jiejie, you know her?”

Her tone was pure as if she’d never seen Song Tingyu before.

In her tailored black suit, blue silk scarf, and sleek hair brushing her shoulders, Lin Qiaoxuan radiated sapphic energy.

Song Tingyu’s gaze dropped to the hand on Ji Jiayu’s arm.

Lin Qiaoxuan’s fingers were long and elegant, nails trimmed short and neat—practical, almost like they were always prepared for… something.

Song Tingyu’s brows furrowed.

Her gaydar blared like a siren.

—Holy shit. Qiu Miaoran’s ex-fiancée… is a top?!

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