My Wealthy Ex-Girlfriend Knelt and Begged Me to Come Back [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 54

The award ceremony was over.

Ji Chen remained seated quietly in her place, waiting.

Only when the crowd had almost dispersed did she finally stand up and head in a certain direction.

In the backstage lounge of the venue,

Ji Jiayu took the bouquet in her hands. Her fingertips, painted crimson, lightly caressed the tender petals.

She lifted her gaze toward Ji Chen, lips curving, a sweet smile spreading to the corners of her eyes. Her light hazel eyes seemed to sparkle like fragments of starlight.

“Ah… so beautiful.” She murmured softly.

It was a bouquet tinged with blue, perfectly matching Ji Jiayu’s gown for the night.

Baby’s breath surrounded several icy-blue gradient roses.

The flower language of icy-blue roses: “You are my stars and seas.”

The flower language of baby’s breath: “Unspoken love.”

Unfortunately, Ji Jiayu was neither an artistic young woman nor someone fond of flowers and plants.

Other than the time she had deliberately looked up the meaning of “Guzmania” during their breakup—knowing its words of affection were false, and using a pot of Guzmania to ironically mock Qiu Miaoran—she didn’t really understand flowers.

So, she only thought of this bouquet as Ji Chen’s congratulation for her winning an award.

“Thank you…” Ji Jiayu lowered her head slightly, her nose brushing the bouquet. She leaned close to the center rose and inhaled lightly. “It smells wonderful too…”

She looked up at Ji Chen, lips curving. Her soft pink mouth revealed neat white teeth. Her pale eyes sparkled, pupils slightly dilated like a little kitten’s.

She was so content—just a bouquet was enough to make her this happy, even making her forget her disappointment over Ji Chen almost being late.

“As long as you like it.” Ji Chen’s eyes bent in a smile, brimming with endless gentleness. “I was late today because something urgent came up. Luckily, I still made it in time.”

Ji Jiayu hummed softly, “It doesn’t matter… I’m already happy that you came.”

Ji Chen lowered her gaze, studying her.

The girl had her hair tied low today, which gave her a touch of elegance she usually didn’t have. Strands of loose hair at her temples swayed lightly as she bowed her head, adding a lively, playful charm.

Ji Chen’s palm suddenly felt itchy…

An urge arose to reach out, tuck those loose strands behind Ji Jiayu’s ear.

Her fingers twitched but she restrained herself, lowering her hand—

—Perhaps this was part of the girl’s styling today.

“Let’s have dinner together. I was late, so let this be your celebration feast.”

“Sure,” Ji Jiayu nodded, her smile dazzling, faint dimples deepening in her cheeks. “You should make it up to me, sis…”

Ji Jiayu put on her mask.

The two walked out of the venue side by side.

Not far away, at the exit, a tall woman with long legs leaned lightly against a plaster pillar. Her gaze clung tightly to the two women who were leaving together, step by step drawing closer to each other.

With the light behind her, Qiu Miaoran’s shadow stretched across the ground. She lowered her head, breath growing heavier and rougher.

Her figure hidden behind the pillar looked faintly lonely.

But this time was different—

Qiu Miaoran didn’t want to stand there alone, smoking by herself, drowning in solitude.

In a story of three people, why should she be the one left nameless?

She refused to just watch Ji Chen take away the girl she liked, refused to only watch their backs as they left together.

Qiu Miaoran hurried to the parking lot. Today she had taken a black SUV, the most low-key, inconspicuous car in the Qiu family’s garage.

She drove out, stopping by the roadside. Through the windshield, she could see the girl in a mask standing beside Ji Chen.

They stood under a streetlight, side by side, hailing a taxi.

Qiu Miaoran pressed the accelerator, following quietly from a distance.

About twenty minutes later, the taxi stopped in front of a private Cantonese restaurant in the northern district.

The two got out together.

Ji Jiayu tentatively leaned closer. Seeing no resistance, she moved even closer, fingers trembling with the urge to hook Ji Chen’s hand.

Other than their first hug upon reunion, and another when Ji Jiayu confessed, Ji Chen had always seemed to avoid physical closeness.

Since reuniting, it felt like there was an invisible barrier between them—not like the intimacy they once had as children.

Ji Jiayu’s lashes trembled. She slowly stretched out her arm, fingertips brushing Ji Chen’s coat.

Sensing her touch, Ji Chen turned to her. “What is it?”

Ji Jiayu’s crimson fingertips slid lightly over the coat before pulling back with a laugh. “Nothing, I just noticed a loose hair.”

The two walked toward the restaurant.

“Lately, I’ve been working on a research problem. It’s really tough,” Ji Chen smiled helplessly, lowering her head. “Maybe that’s why I’ve been shedding more hair.”

“Something even you find difficult?” Ji Jiayu pulled off her mask, teasing, “I thought you could do anything~”

Ji Chen’s lips curved, her eyes bending, but she didn’t answer directly.

—You are the hardest problem I’m facing right now…

Not far away, the branches of a low shrub rustled. The streetlight flickered on, revealing a black figure crouched behind.

A man with short curly hair, pockmarked face—an ordinary-looking paparazzo.

He held a camera, flipping through the photos. His small eyes widened, gleaming with cunning.

One shot had caught Ji Jiayu with her mask off, leaning very close to Ji Chen—

—From this angle, it looked almost like they were about to kiss.

The curly-haired paparazzo smirked wickedly. Finally, he had something juicy—dirt on one of the hottest rising stars!

Those days of squatting had not been in vain!!

He closed the camera, preparing to rise—

A hand landed softly on his shoulder from behind.

“I’ll buy those photos… name your price.” A cold female voice drifted above him.

His heartbeat spiked—

Someone had discovered him!

Keeping one hand behind his back, he slowly stood, turning, shaking the camera in his hand.

“You want to buy what I just shot?”

This was exclusive dirt on a trending actress!

Even if Feng Yalan had offered one million, others would pay the same.

Greed glinted in his eyes.

“I’ll think about it. We can talk price… You really mean any price?”

The woman nodded, her hand moving to the camera.

The next moment, a glass cup came swinging down—

“Price your mother!”

The man cursed through gritted teeth, “Three million! Can you even afford that?!”

He hurled the glass cup at her head.

But the tall, thin woman didn’t dodge.

Crash! Glass shattered, tea spilled. Blood mixed with liquid streamed down her temple. Her gold-rimmed glasses speckled with red, her vision blurred crimson.

Her shoulder-length hair soaked, her face spattered with blood.

From her cheek down her sharp jawline, crimson droplets marked her pale skin. She looked even paler, almost sickly, brows low, eyes dark as eternal night.

Qiu Miaoran’s entire presence grew heavier, more dangerous.

Most chilling of all—her pale hand, long-fingered, like welded steel, clamped tight on his camera.

“Let go!” the man snarled, struggling.

But even bleeding, she wouldn’t release her grip.

“You psycho! Don’t touch my gear!!”

Qiu Miaoran, tall and long-legged, suddenly kicked. Her leather shoe slammed hard into his stomach.

He staggered, lost his grip.

Bang! He was knocked flat on the ground.

Stunned, his head hit the pavement with a dull thud. A buzzing filled his ears.

Groaning, he cursed weakly, “F…fuck…”

Qiu Miaoran coldly snorted, swiftly opening the camera, removing the memory card. She slipped it into her pocket with her glasses.

Her pointed shoe pressed onto his chest, grinding hard.

“Now… I won’t be paying you anything.”

“Not a single cent.”

In the four great families of Jing City, the Qius were notorious for vicious in-fighting. To protect herself, Qiu Miaoran had trained in martial arts and combat since childhood.

She pinned him down and beat him until he howled.

People began to gather, murmuring whether to call the police.

The paparazzo kept wailing. A heavy object smashed his nose, sharp pain radiating—his own camera, hurled at his face.

Qiu Miaoran looked down at him like at an insect, contempt in her gaze.

She lifted her foot, tapping his swollen cheek with her sole.

Her voice low, hoarse: “Get lost.”

With his face bruised and marked by shoeprints, he scrambled up, snatched his empty camera, and fled in panic.

On the second floor of the Cantonese restaurant.

The terrace tables were shaded by large umbrellas.

Two women sat by the railing—each beautiful in a different way, facing each other, a striking sight.

One wore an off-shoulder blouse and shorts, pale legs pressed neatly together, head lowered over her meal. Her low bun loosened by a few stray strands gave her a charmingly playful look.

The wooden table was laden with delicate dishes—

Fish maw and sea cucumber with scallops.

Steamed egg with crab roe and foie gras.

Black truffle with shrimp dumplings.

…

Across sat a woman in a thin white suit, gentle and refined. Under warm lighting, she looked like smooth jade, her profile edged with a soft glow.

Ji Chen lifted her chopsticks and placed food into Ji Jiayu’s bowl.

“You’ll like this one…”

Ji Jiayu lowered her eyes, lips curving faintly. “Thanks.”

The creamy lobster was fresh and chewy, juices bursting with each bite, rich with both sweetness and savor.

The steamed egg dish, silky smooth with the richness of foie gras, was delicious.

Wee-oo, wee-oo— A siren blared outside.

From the open terrace, the sound was especially clear—very close.

“Something happened downstairs?” Ji Chen set down her chopsticks with a crisp clink.

Ji Jiayu, sitting near the railing, leaned out but couldn’t see clearly. “Mm, something happened. A police car just pulled up.”

Nearby diners paused to watch. Some took photos with their phones.

One enlarged a picture on his screen—

Ji Jiayu’s eyes flickered with shock.

The person in the photo wasn’t fully visible, but the figure, the clothes—looked familiar.

This person again? Always clashing with the police, despite being a famous heiress of Jing City, acting like she had no sense at all?

Ji Jiayu froze for a moment, then quickly turned to Ji Chen, voice trembling. “It’s Qiu Miaoran. She’s in trouble.”

Her face tense, Ji Jiayu grabbed her bag, hurrying down the stairs without waiting for the elevator. Her heels clicked sharply.

Ji Chen stood still, lashes lowered, scalp prickling. Then she picked up her bag too, following.

Qiu Miaoran rolled up her bloodstained sleeves, neatly folding them back.

Her elbows and lean arms were exposed—pale skin, faint muscle, strangely alluring.

Her side profile was ghastly pale, blood splattered across her face, dried dark red. Like a suited gangster, fresh from a killing, knife still dripping.

Calmly straightening her collar, she smeared blood further on her shirt with her stained hands.

“I didn’t pick a fight, nor did I disturb the peace. He hit me first,” she said lazily, voice rich and aristocratic, as if she hadn’t just kicked a man half-dead.

“There’s a traffic camera at the intersection. Go check.”

The officers frowned. “No. You were reported for fighting. Don’t resist—come with us to the station for a statement.”

Seeing her resistance, they grew angrier, stepping forward to handcuff her.

“Wait!”

Ji Jiayu rushed out from the restaurant entrance, holding her stomach, breathless. “Sorry—she’s with us. We were eating just now. We didn’t expect this to happen. She’ll cooperate, she’ll give her statement.”

The officers turned toward her.

One young policewoman’s eyes lit in recognition. “Aren’t you…”

The lead officer shot her a sharp look.

She quickly shut her mouth, face hardening again.

“Come with us,” she told Qiu Miaoran coldly.

Qiu Miaoran lowered her head, blood still dripping. “Fine. Give me two minutes…”

She coughed softly, bent, and pulled a memory card from her briefcase, slipping it into Ji Jiayu’s hand. Her voice hoarse:

“You’re a star now. Be careful. Don’t get caught like this again.”

Ji Jiayu opened her palm—

A bloodstained memory card lay inside.

“Qiu Miaoran…” she whispered, voice trembling.

Qiu’s eyes lowered, scanning every inch of her delicate face, longing for some flicker of emotion there.

But her eyes were empty, more puzzled than pained.

Ji Jiayu frowned.

“You fought… just for this?”

At that moment, Ji Chen came out after settling the bill, striding toward the police car.

Qiu Miaoran looked up, catching sight of her in white suit and trousers, moving quickly though her left leg betrayed stiffness—a mechanical limb not suited for running.

Her gaze trembled, then dropped back to Ji Jiayu.

Her dark eyes dimmed further.

—Only now did she realize Ji Jiayu’s dinner companion was Ji Chen. How crushing.

The one she liked actually liked her aunt instead…

Qiu Miaoran lowered her head, turning toward the police car. “Stay with my aunt. Don’t worry about me…”

Her voice was thin, lonely as water.

The night wind carried the metallic tang of blood from her body.

“Wait.” Ji Jiayu suddenly looked up, lips parting. “I’ll go with you to the station, for your statement.

Then to the hospital. You’re hurt. I’ll take you.”

Ji Chen arched her brow, fingers curling at her side. She stepped forward, but it felt like stepping on air, her heart sinking into emptiness.

Support