She Became The Black Lotus’s Pure, Untouchable Love - Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Cold moonlight streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling glass, pooling across the reddish-brown hardwood floor.

The spacious room was decorated in an ancient Chinese style, filled with red sandalwood carvings of dragon and phoenix totems. Exquisite porcelain vases occupied every inch of the Huanghuali wood display racks, yet a few oil paintings of the Madonna hung abruptly on the walls.

A dim, warm light hit the headboard, casting a serene silence over the room.

Huo Xingyu reclined on a chaise longue by the window, her mature frame draped in a dark green silk gown that accentuated the enticing curves of her waist and hips. The moonlight fell upon her fair skin, lending it a dazzling, almost translucent glow. Behind silver-rimmed glasses, her cold eyes were fixed intently on her phone screen.

Propping her face with one hand, she used the other to incessantly refresh her chat interface.

Ordinarily, unless it was for work, she was not the type of person to stare at social media apps. But today was an exception.

Her icy gaze was locked onto the three words at the top of the chat box: 🌸Ning Xiangxiang🌸. Her mind was a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts.

Why hasn’t she messaged me yet?

She knew how to message me this afternoon to ask for a ride. Why can’t she come talk to me tonight?

Did the first day on set go smoothly?

Her leg is broken, and with such a heavy cast, even walking with crutches must be difficult. How is she supposed to film like that?

Huo Xingyu had a thousand questions, but they all eventually boiled down to one key point: Is Ning Xiangxiang actually dying to see me? Is she just unable to come because of her leg?

She pondered… If I go to see her tomorrow, what excuse should I use?

She certainly couldn’t say: “Because I know you must be missing me to the point of insanity, I have shown mercy and come to visit you. This is the kindness and charity our Huo Group always upholds; you don’t need to be overly grateful.”

Her slender fingers scrolled up through their past chat history, her mind wandering aimlessly.

Ning Xiangxiang had really known how to push her buttons today. It was one thing to make the great Fourth Miss Huo act as a driver, but to have the audacity to say she resembled an ex-girlfriend?

What ex-girlfriend?! Finding someone even a thousandth as good as her would be like winning the ancestral lottery!

Tomorrow, I’ll have someone investigate exactly who this ex-girlfriend is that has Ning Xiangxiang so haunted, Huo Xingyu thought, gritting her teeth.

She hadn’t realized Ning Xiangxiang had grown so bold. Very few people dared to irritate her like this. She hadn’t even done anything yet, and already Ning Xiangxiang was “acting spoiled based on favor.”

She recalled Ning Xiangxiang’s flushed cheeks, her reddened nose, and those deer-like eyes filled with wet tears and disbelief—shimmering with a broken light in the twilight. For the first time, she felt that dusk was actually something worth appreciating.

The corners of Huo Xingyu’s mouth quirked upward.

Since she made me her driver, I’ll just go collect the “fare” tomorrow.

What expression would Ning Xiangxiang make when she saw her on set? Surprise? Panic? Joy? Regardless of the emotion, Ning Xiangxiang should be so happy that she’d jump out of her wheelchair and run three laps around the studio.

On the screen, the rabbit emojis Ning Xiangxiang used to send puffed out their furry cheeks—sometimes pouting for a kiss, sometimes rolling around the screen holding a heart. Huo Xingyu reached out and poked the rabbit’s fluffy, pink cheek aggressively.

She toggled between the “Ultimate Collection of Jokes” she had searched and WeChat, checking for new messages. After waiting a long while without a single red notification dot, she locked her phone in frustration.

She stood up and walked to a large pear-wood desk, flipping open a folder. On the A4 paper, the heading read: Huo’s Charitable Foundation Annual Subsidy Plan.

She sat down, intending to review the project proposal, when her phone—tossed onto the bed—chimed twice.

Huo Xingyu snapped her head up, looking at the corner of the phone peeking out from the duvet. A smug, triumphant smile touched her lips.

Good. Finally!

Typically, Huo Xingyu’s work hours were sacrosanct. Work was so important that unless the Huo family was currently distributing an inheritance, nothing could distract her.

But today was an exception. Huo Xingyu searched for an excuse. Because… because…

She rose slowly, the dark green silk hugging her waistline as she moved. Her long, pale legs flickered in and out of sight beneath the hem of the gown. Her pace quickened with every step toward the bed.

Ning Xiangxiang loves me so much; she’s dying for me. Now that her leg is broken and she’s alone with the crew, she must need my comfort, right?

Besides, as the Chairperson of the Huo Charitable Foundation, caring for injured professionals in the performing arts industry is an act of benevolence. It’s professional. It’s normal.

With that thought, she slid the screen to unlock it. Two messages popped up.

Wen Ran: Sister, I was just working out and didn’t see your message. Sorry about that!

Then, a photo followed.

Huo Xingyu stared at the photo, and the smile in her eyes died instantly. In the picture, Wen Ran’s long legs were crossed, the lighting from behind casting a seductive, pearly glow on her skin. She was not at all shy about showing off her figure.

It was indeed a good figure. Looking at those curves, another thought instinctively flashed through Huo Xingyu’s mind.

What about Ning Xiangxiang?

She leaned her head on her hand and began to reminisce. Suddenly, she buried her face in the quilt. The tips of her ears turned a deep crimson, and a flush spread across her cheeks.

Her mind was flooded with images from the past ten years—moments of clarity and moments of drunkenness. Swaying, dizzying memories of lips and teeth meeting in a blur.

She suddenly felt as if these things had happened only yesterday; her fingertips still held that familiar tactile memory. It felt as though at any moment, Ning Xiangxiang would do what she used to do: obediently walk into her room and curl up in her bed.

Why did I never pay attention to Ning Xiangxiang in that way before?

It must be… it must be because she loved me too much. Being loved so fiercely… even someone as arrogant as I am would feel a bit embarrassed.

Compelled by a strange urge, she opened Weibo and tapped the top of her search history.

Ning Xiangxiang’s Weibo didn’t have many commercial ads or endorsements yet, but it was filled with chatty updates—life on set and pictures of sweets. Huo Xingyu had skimmed through them over the last three days. Looking at the photos of Ning Xiangxiang intentionally puffing out her cheeks or smiling until her eyes became crescents, Huo Xingyu couldn’t help but smile faintly.

Her finger moved, tapping the “Save” button in the bottom right corner.

As if sensing the lack of a reply, another message popped up from the other side:

Wen Ran: I only gave those things to your mother because I saw them while shopping and thought they suited her, nothing more.

Huo Xingyu tapped a simple “Mm” and sent it.

Wen Ran: I know you don’t like the feeling of being “arranged,” Sister. I don’t like it either. Wen Ran: Although people like us are born with a lot, we are also destined to give up a lot. But I still hold onto hope. Even for a business marriage, I want to find someone whose heart is in sync with mine.

Huo Xingyu frowned. She didn’t consider herself someone with a deep interest in or understanding of romance, but Wen Ran’s hints were becoming glaringly obvious.

Huo Xingyu was well-acquainted with this behavior. Many people who swarmed around her were even more calculated than Wen Ran. She was used to it. These people usually loved the halo surrounding the name “Huo Xingyu”; they loved watching her from a distance. Their “love” had nothing to do with Huo Xingyu as a person. Once they actually interacted with her, that “love” invariably turned into fear.

…

Meanwhile, Wen Ran was biting her chopsticks, ignoring the laughter from the variety show on TV. Her eyes were glued to her phone, her heart pounding. She wasn’t entirely confident in what she had said; she just wanted to appear “different” to catch Huo Xingyu’s attention.

A green box popped up from the solid black avatar.

. Is that so? It seems I am not within Miss Wen’s criteria for a partner. . Compared to a momentary spark, I value lineage, taste, upbringing, education, ability, and appearance. I have no interest in “cultivating” love, nor do I have the time to play the game of Cinderella turning into a princess.

Wen Ran’s face instantly paled.

Who is Cinderella? Is she talking about me?

Wen Ran laughed in disbelief. In terms of lineage, taste, upbringing, education, and ability, she could crush Ning Xiangxiang ten times over. If she was Cinderella, then Ning Xiangxiang was Cinderella’s foot-washing maid!

Huo Xingyu’s words were absolute. Clearly, she just didn’t like her, yet she had pinned the “not within criteria” label on Wen Ran.

If she wasn’t “within the criteria,” then why did Huo Xingyu squeeze onto a subway to go home herself? Why go out of her way to please Lin Xian? To exercise her ankles?!

Wen Ran glanced at her own ankles, swollen from a long day in 15cm heels, and threw her chopsticks against the wall in a rage. Her round eyes filled with tears of frustration.

This was her first failure.

But she wasn’t the type to give up after a setback. If Huo Xingyu were that easy to get, she wouldn’t be Huo Xingyu. The more indifferent and dismissive she was, the more Wen Ran determined to make it impossible for Huo Xingyu to look away.