The Person I Love Who Has Been Missing For Three Years - Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Eyes Red with Heartbreak

The mudslide had been cleared, but the road into the village was still somewhat bumpy.

Xu Zhiyan watched Ming Jin’s expression from the corner of her eye and couldn’t help but instruct the driver in a low voice: “Slow down.”

“No need, I’m fine. Any slower and we’ll miss the flight,” Ming Jin’s voice was flat, but her hand unconsciously braced her lower back, and she subtly let out a sigh of relief.

It felt like gears without lubrication; with every bump, she could feel the dull ache of bone-on-bone friction, pulling at her nerves.

The physical strain lately had indeed been excessive. In the three years abroad, apart from the first year of repeated surgeries, she hadn’t experienced such pain after slowly recovering.

“I should have just packed myself…” Xu Zhiyan muttered, her tone full of discontent.

After resting in the hospital for a few more days, Ming Jin’s heart condition hadn’t returned to normal but was deemed stable enough for flight.

Xu Zhiyan wanted her to rest for another two days, but Ming Jin seemed to have no attachment to this place anymore, urging them to book today’s flight.

There was still a portion of unpacked items in the resort yard.

Xu Zhiyan didn’t care, thinking they could just leave them behind, but Ming Jin insisted on returning personally.

She claimed there was something very important there.

Something only she knew how to find.

So, just before the flight departure, the group hurried back to the resort.

There was a sharp turn ahead. The driver had slowed down in advance, but upon turning the corner, they saw a Cayenne blocking the road.

The driver slammed on the brakes. With a screeching sound, the car barely stopped in front of the Cayenne.

The violent forward inertia caused Ming Jin’s face to instantly turn pale. Her breath hitched, and the fingers gripping the seat tightened in an instant.

“Who is this? Can’t they drive? Stopping right here…” Xu Zhiyan couldn’t help but curse under her breath, so angry she wanted to smash the other car.

She helped Ming Jin stabilize herself, then immediately stepped out of the car, rushing out with a vigorous momentum, looking ready to fight.

“Ayan…” Ming Jin called out, but it was too late. The young woman had already dashed off.

“Follow her and restrain her,” Ming Jin said in a low voice. Several assistants and secretaries in the car quickly got out and followed.

An intense confrontation erupted. Ming Jin looked forward anxiously, but the crowd was bustling, and she couldn’t see Xu Zhiyan.

Just as she leaned slightly forward to look, Ming Jin froze. The place that had been stinging during the earlier bumps now flared up, momentarily disrupting her breathing and making her afraid to move.

Her thick eyelashes dropped. In her shallow brown eyes, deep undercurrents churned.

She couldn’t even get out of the car to stop Xu Zhiyan right now. How could she… still think of getting closer to Song Xiangwan repeatedly?

When Xu Zhiyan rushed over, the person opposite was also very aggressive, and an intense conflict broke out instantly.

However, seeing a crowd of people get out of the car on this side, the other person’s expression became awkward, and their arrogant demeanor instantly diminished by a third.

After learning Xu Zhiyan’s identity, the remaining arrogance was immediately extinguished.

While quickly saying they would move the car, they also smiled and tried to hand Xu Zhiyan a business card.

Ming Jin did not pay attention to the farce outside. She leaned back in her seat, gently closed her eyes, her slightly furrowed brows making her look fragile as paper.

“It’s fine.” Ming Jin opened her eyes. Her shallow brown pupils were calm. Her expression was neutral, as if nothing had happened.

Sitting casually, her posture was straight. Her faint gaze swept over them, maintaining the composed and steady demeanor she usually displayed at the negotiation table.

“Who was that?” Ming Jin asked casually. “Looking at his car, he doesn’t seem local. From the film crew?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Xu Zhiyan said, turning to look at the assistants. “Where’s the business card?”

She hadn’t taken the card herself, and she didn’t know who did.

An assistant quickly searched his clothes, pulling out a business card from his jacket pocket and handing it over: “President Xu, here it is.”

Xu Zhiyan took it, looked at the name, and read: “Producer, Executive Producer, Director, Agent, Painter, Writer… Liu Tianming.”

“Is this person a jack of all trades? What nonsense is he writing on here…” Xu Zhiyan muttered. It looked less like a business card and more like an advertisement.

A long, fair hand reached out, the fingertips gently grasping the card, taking it from Xu Zhiyan’s hand.

“Liu Tianming…” Ming Jin looked at the name on the card, pondering slightly.

“Sis, do you know him?” Xu Zhiyan asked.

“The name sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it…” Ming Jin handed the card back casually.

Xu Zhiyan took it and tossed it into the side pocket of the car door, not giving it a second thought.

The yard was constantly maintained. The climate was summer-like, with lush green trees, flowerbeds full of vibrant blooms, and neatly paved flagstone paths. Butterflies fluttered over the flagstones, their shadows casting long streaks on the ground. The air was filled with the fragrance of grass and wood, and a faint floral scent.

It was truly summer now. A few days ago, these flowers hadn’t bloomed this well.

But the flight schedule was tight, leaving no time to enjoy the flowers. The wheelchair rolled over the flagstones and into the house.

The small courtyard on the second floor had an elevator, so going up wasn’t difficult.

Xu Zhiyan was cautious in everything she did, knowing Ming Jin’s self-esteem and strong will, arranging everything perfectly.

Entering the second-floor bedroom, guided by Ming Jin, Xu Zhiyan pushed the wheelchair to the clothes rack.

Hanging on the rack was a light apricot short trench coat. Ming Jin had worn this coat when the weather was slightly cool upon their arrival.

Xu Zhiyan reached out and took the coat down: “Just for this coat…”

“Mm.” Ming Jin nodded, taking the coat and placing it carefully on her lap, treating it as precious.

“Go see if there’s anything else you need to pack,” Ming Jin instructed. “Since we’re back, let’s finish packing everything at once.”

“I want to look at the flowers in the garden. Flowers in the mountains always seem to have more vitality than those in the city.”

“That cluster of red roses is in full bloom.”

“Okay.” Xu Zhiyan nodded, pushed her to the most flourishing flower cluster, instructed the assistant to wait nearby, and went to take care of her own tasks.

The red roses cascaded over the bamboo frame like a waterfall, bathed in sunlight, blooming passionately. Cabbage white butterflies flitted through the flowers, and even the sound of the wind through the bushes carried a delicate, soft murmur. The thorns of the red roses were hidden among the green leaves, focused only on displaying their vibrant life force.

Ming Jin cautiously picked up the trench coat from her lap. Her fingertips followed the fabric into the inner pocket. After a moment of searching, she pulled out a small, triangular peace talisman.

The talisman was folded from yellow paper, with red characters written in vermilion ink, and a small tassel hanging from it, resting quietly in her palm.

Small, exquisite, soft, and lovely.

Ming Jin’s fingers involuntarily tightened slightly, yet she didn’t dare to squeeze too hard. She simply held it gently and carefully in her palm.

She could almost feel a gentle warmth permeating her palm.

“I climbed the mountain for four hours, step by step. Sincerity brings spiritual efficacy. I prayed for this at the mountaintop Taoist temple.”

“Keep it close to you. It will definitely protect you and keep you safe.”

A cheerful, upward inflection seemed to revolve and linger near her ear. The peace talisman in her hand was steeped in the scent of roses.

“Miss Song, please follow me.” A man who looked like a butler led the way.

The courtyard had been entirely renovated. What met the eye was a moon gate, with green vines climbing the dark tile and white walls. A winding cobblestone path was flanked by large patches of orchids.

Beyond the moon gate, a few stalks of green bamboo slanted in, casting intersecting shadows on the ground. A watermelon, chilled with cool water, sat in a bucket next to an old well.

Under the shade of a tree, a celadon tea set was placed on a stone table, with faint steam rising from the tea.

In the small pond in the courtyard, groups of bright red koi swam past, and the water lilies in the pond were budding.

It was completely different from the filming locations rented by the crew—meticulously crafted, full of delightful touches, and deeply elegant.

The man in the courtyard wore a dark, short-sleeved Chinese mandarin jacket with gold thread embroidery. One hand held a string of sandalwood beads, and the other supported a bronze bowl.

His fingertips lightly sprinkled fish food into the water, causing the fish to leap up and compete for the food, creating ripples across the surface.

“Sir.” The butler-like man bowed, “The guest has arrived.”

He said no more and quietly retreated.

Liu Tianming turned his head, a cordial and gentle smile appearing on his middle-aged face: “Xiangwan is here.”

“Brother Liu.” Song Xiangwan smiled faintly, using the nickname they had shared many years ago.

“How is my courtyard?” Liu Tianming didn’t mention anything else, showing a hint of pride: “Every plant and tree was personally arranged by me. Do you like it?”

“I love it.” Song Xiangwan looked around. “Brother Liu’s aesthetic is impeccable.”

The layout here must have been significantly altered. Built upon the foundation of an old structure, it was not artificially ornate but naturally flowing, possessing a distinct Chinese classical elegance.

Liu Tianming was famous in the industry for his high-level aesthetic.

Several of his films as a director were hailed as masterpieces of Chinese art in every frame.

“If you like it, it’s yours,” Liu Tianming said carelessly. “It’s convenient for you to live here while filming.”

“You must be joking,” Song Xiangwan said with a light smile. “Setting aside the price of this courtyard, your effort alone makes it unique.”

“What does that matter? Isn’t our relationship worth this courtyard?” Liu Tianming closed the lid of the bronze bowl in his hand. “It’s been a long time. Come and taste the tea I personally brewed.”

Song Xiangwan thought they would sit by the stone table in the shade, but Liu Tianming walked ahead, leading the way into the main hall.

Next to the main hall, behind a carved partition, was an elegant tearoom.

Incense burned on the table, with curling smoke rising. The window opened directly onto the water lilies and the pond, and a gentle breeze blew through.

It wasn’t a completely enclosed space, but being alone with him made her feel slightly uncomfortable.

Song Xiangwan didn’t want to stay long. As soon as she sat down, she went straight to the topic: “Brother Liu, about the new script…”

“Small matter, small matter.” Light-colored tea flowed from the teapot, hot and steaming, and was placed in front of Song Xiangwan.

“Please.” He gestured, saying, “As long as you nod, the female lead role is yours. My word is absolute.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Song Xiangwan quickly said.

The tea was already presented. By custom, not drinking it would be impolite. Song Xiangwan picked up the cup and took a sip.

It was slightly bitter. The high-class beverage slid down her throat. She wasn’t good at distinguishing fine tea; she couldn’t appreciate such refined drinks.

“What’s wrong? You don’t trust the script I favor?” Liu Tianming smiled, his eyes studying Song Xiangwan.

Over the years, she had shed her initial youthfulness, now possessing a polished, gentle grace, like raw jade emitting a dazzling light.

Her face was as beautiful as ever—a perfect oval face, with elegant phoenix eyes and slender, beautiful brows, making her a quintessential Chinese beauty.

“This script was written by Teacher Zhuyu after three years in seclusion. It’s a major Republic-era production. Xiangwan, you’d look stunning in a qipao; people won’t be able to take their eyes off you.”

“I plan to personally oversee this drama—producing, funding, and directing it myself. Don’t worry, I will definitely film you beautifully.”

He was renowned in the entire industry for filming beautiful women. No actress could resist Liu Tianming’s lens.

Such an excellent opportunity was being placed right in front of Song Xiangwan.

Three years ago, Song Xiangwan would have happily signed the contract.

But now, her state of mind was different, her position was different, and naturally, her thoughts were different too.

“Brother Liu, I don’t plan to accept this role,” Song Xiangwan explained. “It’s not that I don’t trust you; it’s that I don’t want to film anymore.”

“I came here this time to repay Sister Zhao’s favor.” Song Xiangwan took a thick brown paper envelope from her bag.

“Please give this to Sister Zhao. Tell her it’s the referral fee, and ask her to accept it.”

She handed it over with both hands, but Liu Tianming didn’t reach out to take it. He simply leaned back against the chair, took a sip of tea, and looked up at her.

“I guarantee that when this drama airs, you’ll return to your previous status, maybe even become more popular than before.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Brother Liu.” Song Xiangwan placed the brown paper envelope on the table. “Please pass this along.”

“Xiangwan, you’re not giving me face,” he put down his teacup. “What do you take this place for? You think you can come and go as you please?”

As soon as he said this, Song Xiangwan’s heart sank. His tone seemed to imply something else.

The fingers resting on her bag tightened slightly. Song Xiangwan felt a little nervous but still said, “Brother Liu, I’m truly sorry.”

The atmosphere became slightly tense. He looked up, the smile on his face gone, his eyes showing a subtle sharpness.

But it was like Song Xiangwan’s misperception. The sharpness vanished in an instant, returning to his usual approachable gentleness: “Forget it, I won’t force you.”

“It looks like I’ll have to find another female lead.”

“However, since you’re here, stay and have a meal.”

It was simple home-style cooking, but according to Liu Tianming, everything was freshly picked from the vegetable garden in the backyard—absolutely green, organic, and pollution-free.

Liu Tianming used serving chopsticks to add a dish to Song Xiangwan’s plate: “This is pumpkin vine tips. Many places don’t eat it this way. Lightly stir-fried is the sweetest.”

“I remember you prefer lighter flavors. Once, when we were having a meal at a Sichuan restaurant during the filming of The Pearl of the Deep Sea, everything was spicy. I had to run next door to buy you an omelet rice. Today’s dishes are all light. Try them and see if they suit your appetite.”

“Thank you, Brother Liu. You’ve always looked out for me,” Song Xiangwan replied politely.

Liu Tianming didn’t overstep any boundaries. He sat properly, quite far from Song Xiangwan, recounting past events, as if merely catching up with an old friend.

“Back then, when you first debuted, I knew you would become a huge star.”

“It’s a shame The Pearl of the Deep Sea never aired. I still have the master tapes. I watched it again recently.”

“I wanted to continue working with you, but then you signed with Rongxing…”

He paused here, then asked casually, as if by accident: “Xiangwan, did you fall out with the executives at Rongxing?”

“No,” Song Xiangwan lowered her eyelashes, concealing the expression in her eyes, and said softly, “It was a peaceful termination of the contract. There was no falling out.”

“Then did you ever meet the person behind Rongxing? Did she say anything to you?”

“No. I was just an artist signed to Rongxing. I had no personal relationship with the boss.” No one had ever known about Song Xiangwan and Ming Jin’s relationship.

“So, you have absolutely no connection with Rongxing now?” Liu Tianming pressed.

“Yes.” Song Xiangwan frowned slightly. She felt something was off. Liu Tianming was too interested in Rongxing.

“That’s good.” For some reason, when he said this, Song Xiangwan felt the smile in his eyes deepen.

What was he confirming?

Confirming that she had absolutely no connection with Rongxing?

At midday, the sunlight streamed in. The heat of summer rushed over, creating a slightly oppressive warmth.

The meal was finished. Song Xiangwan stood up to leave: “Brother Liu, I have a scene with the crew this afternoon, so I won’t stay.”

“I have the call sheet. You don’t have a scene this afternoon,” Liu Tianming said plainly.

Song Xiangwan frowned. Even if she knew it was an excuse, most people wouldn’t just expose it so openly.

“Take a nap before you go. Don’t be in such a rush,” Liu Tianming clicked his tongue, lit a cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled a plume of smoke.

Through the mist, he looked at Song Xiangwan, his eyes slowly deepening.

That feeling of being scrutinised was growing stronger and stronger.

Song Xiangwan felt a faint discomfort. Liu Tianming was very strange today. The “Brother Liu” from before was always the most gentle, considerate, polite, and knew his boundaries.

“Just say I’m not feeling well. Cancel everything. I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Yes.” The butler bowed and left.

“Brother Liu, you’re not feeling well, so I’ll leave now. You should rest well.” Song Xiangwan stood up. This time, she didn’t wait for Liu Tianming to speak. She turned and walked away.

But before she reached the door, she saw the butler’s face, and then the door closed with a creak.

She reached out and pulled the wooden door. She could pull it open just a crack, but it was locked from the outside with an old copper lock. The gap was only wide enough to fit an arm through.

“This courtyard is big. Even if you shout, no one will hear you.” Liu Tianming took another puff of smoke, then tossed the cigarette butt onto the ground and ground it out with his foot.

“Brother Liu, what is the meaning of this?” As she spoke, Song Xiangwan’s hand reached for the phone in her bag.

But just as she unlocked it, her hand suddenly felt heavy, and the phone, along with the entire handbag, was yanked away.

She immediately gripped the strap tightly, sinking into a tug-of-war.

Song Xiangwan’s expression was grim. She had never encountered a situation like this…

Some directors and producers had indeed hinted at casting couch arrangements, but she had either pretended not to understand or flat-out refused, and the other party had always backed down.

What was this? Was he going to use force?

The opposing force suddenly pulled hard, wrenching the handbag away, but in that moment of crisis, she managed to clutch the phone in her palm.

The handbag was thrown on the floor. Liu Tianming reached out to seize her phone.

“Didn’t Zhao Rui tell you everything before you came?” The force in Liu Tianming’s hand was heavy, so heavy that Song Xiangwan struggled to keep her phone.

“I never agreed to anything…” Song Xiangwan bit out, gripping the phone tightly.

The side power button was pressed repeatedly. Neither of them noticed that with multiple presses of the power button, the phone screen jumped, dialing the emergency contact.

“Still trying to struggle? You ran away during The Pearl of the Deep Sea and even climbed up to a higher branch. Now you still want to run?”

“I’ll call the police.” Song Xiangwan ultimately couldn’t win the tug-of-war. The phone was snatched away and casually thrown onto the table.

“Call the police? An actress calling the police about being indecently assaulted? Or raped?”

“I’ll naturally say that Song Xiangwan came here proactively to ask for a casting couch opportunity for resources, and then turned around and bit me. “

“You can try. We’ll see who pays the bigger price—me, or you, who will be ruined and disgraced.”

“Why not just accept me? What’s so bad about it? I genuinely like you. I see you as my muse.”

“I promise you, you will be the only one. There will be no one else. I will use all my strength to promote you…”

Song Xiangwan felt like her wrist was about to be yanked off. This man was a lunatic.

All his previous words were simply to confirm that Song Xiangwan had no one backing her now.

An out-of-date actress was no match for this tycoon who had operated in the entertainment industry for years.

Whether it was consensual or not, he could paint the story however he liked.

Song Xiangwan could smell the smoke on him, the cigarette smell she hated the most—choking, pungent, and also greasy and sickening.

She was violently pulled, struggling hard, yet she couldn’t escape the smell of smoke.

Finally, she gathered all her strength, raised her knee, and slammed it forward. Liu Tianming cried out in pain and instantly released her hand.

What should she do… Song Xiangwan retreated, spotting the tearoom. Without hesitation, she jumped out the window.

Outside was the pond. She couldn’t swim, but fortunately, the water wasn’t deep.

She found her footing and saw Liu Tianming looking out through the window, his hands pressed against the lattice, his eyes deep and sullen: “I’ll see if you can escape.”

Song Xiangwan turned and ran, recalling the route they took when they arrived, but the courtyard was full of winding paths.

Her clothes were soaked. She saw in the distance that the main gate was also tightly locked.

The walls on both sides were too high, with no place to gain leverage. She couldn’t climb over.

“Run, keep running.” A sinister voice came from behind. Liu Tianming slowed his pace, walking closer step by step.

Song Xiangwan turned to look at him, meeting his eyes, retreating step by step.

But she didn’t have much room left. A few more steps, and her heel hit the stone steps.

Liu Tianming didn’t seem to be in a hurry. The mouse in front of him was already the prey in the cat’s palm.

Liu Tianming’s eyes narrowed. He watched as the wooden door violently shook, followed by another fierce impact. The door crashed down with a loud boom.

“President Liu refusing to see guests? It turns out you were busy with such unspeakable things.” Xu Zhiyan sneered. Several bodyguards surrounded her, pushing her wheelchair forward.

Song Xiangwan turned her head, looking past the crowd, meeting the pair of shallow brown eyes in the distance.

In that instant, a surge of grievances welled up, and tears began to pour down.

The soaked cat was completely drenched. She looked pitiful, her shoulders trembling slightly as she cried. The wrist exposed had faint blue and purple marks.

Ming Jin’s eyes narrowed slightly. She pushed her wheelchair forward, looking at Liu Tianming: “It seems the lesson from before wasn’t enough for you.”

“You…” Liu Tianming’s face was flushed purple with anger. “You are trespassing on private property.”

“I did trespass. What can you do to me?”

“Wasn’t that your high-and-mighty tone just now?”

Ming Jin looked up at him, her gaze like a cold steel knife, intimidatingly deep. It felt as if he was enveloped by an invisible aura, the words of defense stuck in his throat.

Liu Tianming certainly recognized Ming Jin.

During The Pearl of the Deep Sea, when he took Song Xiangwan to his car, he was intercepted by her, and he didn’t dare to utter a single protest.

Ming Jin picked up the short trench coat from her lap, moved closer, and gently draped it over Song Xiangwan.

Her voice was as gentle as usual, her fingertips pressing on Song Xiangwan’s soaked hair: “It’s alright, don’t cry anymore. You just got out of the hospital; crying like this will hurt your body.”

“Ah Jin…” Song Xiangwan immediately threw herself at Ming Jin, burying her head in Ming Jin’s arms.

She couldn’t control her tears anymore. They poured out like an opened faucet, flowing nonstop. She was crying so hard her whole body was trembling slightly.

Her soaked clothes pressed against Ming Jin’s clothes, instantly spreading a large damp patch.

Ming Jin’s hand gently held her. Her exposed wrist bone was slender and delicate, yet it firmly supported Song Xiangwan.

Xu Zhiyan opened her mouth, wanting to speak, but stopped, her eyes filled with anxiety.

Ming Jin’s waist and legs couldn’t bear such a load, and Song Xiangwan was practically leaning her entire weight on Ming Jin.

Although Ming Jin was supporting her very steadily, Xu Zhiyan clearly saw her sister’s tightly pressed lips, which showed a slight strain.

“Don’t cry,” Ming Jin’s hand lightly patted Song Xiangwan’s back, her voice soothing like one comforting a child—patient, gentle, and unhurried.

Xu Zhiyan kept the words on her lips unsaid.

Because she saw her sister—a person with such an iron will who remained silent during physical therapy that made others scream.

Yet now, her eyes were faintly red, brimming with heartache, so much heartache that her eyes were tearing up.