After Becoming a Film Queen, She Dumped Her Financial Sponsor - Chapter 13

Chapter 13:  Did I Just Run Into a Pair of Secret Lovers?

“I’m warning you, take one more step and I’ll call the police!”

With both hands protectively crossed over her chest, Qiao Sijin felt like the person in front of her was a walking catastrophe. She was convinced Fu Qingyun was even more drunk than she was.

That snapped Fu Qingyun out of her drunken haze completely. She took a step forward.

There was one thing she simply couldn’t figure out.

She hadn’t changed from the beginning. So why had Qiao Sijin gone from obedient and trusting to this kind of cold resistance?

What exactly had she done wrong?

Everything had gone according to plan, according to the contract. She hadn’t crossed any lines, and she had even hand-delivered every resource Qiao Sijin might have needed or wanted.

Was this what it meant to have your sincere heart trampled on?

Fu Qingyun didn’t think so. But she couldn’t understand how that fragile little bird from their first meeting—the one who looked so hurt by the rain—had now become something so large, so unrestrained, like wings blotting out the sky.

“Fu Qingyun… what are you laughing at?”

Qiao Sijin didn’t know why, maybe it was the alcohol, but she was losing control of her emotions. Embarrassed and furious, her face flushed—not even clear whether it was from anger or intoxication. She stumbled a few steps forward.

Pointing a finger at Fu Qingyun’s nose, Qiao Sijin grew bold with liquor-fueled confidence—liquid courage in full effect.

“You’re already an award-winning artist, yet you’re still acting like this? Do you even realize how many paparazzi are out there?”

Her sleeve still had shards of glass clinging to it, sparkling under the hallway lights.

Angrily, Qiao Sijin grabbed Fu Qingyun’s sleeve to brush them off—leftovers from her own shattered phone. No way she’d let this evil capitalist walk away with them.

But before her hand could do anything, Fu Qingyun had already seized her wrist, tightly.

“It’s fine. These glass shards won’t hurt me.”

After three years of being together—doing the most intimate things—Fu Qingyun understood Qiao Sijin better than anyone. Her thoughts. Her body.

Turning over her own sleeve, Fu Qingyun looked at the glass stuck to the fabric, then calmly pressed her bare palm onto it.

One by one, she brushed off the shards. Her hand was quickly sliced, bl00d oozing out.

“What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

Oddly, the pain gave Fu Qingyun a strange sense of pleasure. She couldn’t explain it, but in this heightened state, she found herself enjoying it.

“Didn’t you say we’re over? Then why do you still care if I’m hurt?”

Turning her palm upward, she didn’t seem to mind the bleeding at all.

“Crazy woman… I don’t have time for this.”

“I’m leaving.”

Getting away from this place seemed like the best idea. Though her mind was clouded with alcohol, Qiao Sijin still had a sliver of rationality.

But after just two steps, she tripped over her own feet.

Her self-loathing flared up—she hated being clumsy, especially in front of her ex-lover slash nightmare fuel. Why did she have to humiliate herself now?

As if she’d predicted it, Fu Qingyun reached out—though her hand was already bloodied. The moment it brushed Qiao Sijin’s pale wrist, red stained her skin.

She caught her firmly.

Fu Qingyun didn’t know whether the glass shards had hurt Qiao Sijin. With a soft sigh, she pulled her close.

It only took a second. Just one second without watching her, and Qiao Sijin got herself into trouble again.

How was she supposed to just let her go?

“Why… won’t you come back?”

“Answer me, Qiao Sijin.”

She used her full name.

Fu Qingyun had been suppressing the darkest parts of herself. But tonight, she realized her emotions were no longer under control. Her reason was unraveling.

This wasn’t the outcome she wanted. Ideally, they’d return to how things were—to the rhythm they once shared.

She held Qiao Sijin tightly.

“President Fu… President Fu!”

Assistant Zhou let out a helpless sigh. He’d waited ages at the banquet but Fu Qingyun hadn’t returned. In the end, he had no choice but to go against her orders and search for her.

He was worried something terrible had happened—what if President Fu had been kidnapped?

That’d cost him more than just his job!

He called out down the hallway but got no response.

Then, in the distance, he spotted two blurry silhouettes tangled together at the end of the corridor. Their posture—intimate, entwined.

Wait a second—did I just stumble onto a pair of secret lovers?

Seriously? Right here, out in the open?

Okay, technically it was night, but still! This was public space!

Shameful. Completely inappropriate.

Zhou was about to quietly retreat when he suddenly heard a familiar voice—an all-too-familiar one.

“There’s no reason. We’re already over.”

“Do you really want to hear more?”

Each word was precise and firm. Qiao Sijin looked serious, like she truly wanted to cut all ties with Fu Qingyun.

Her face was flushed, but her brows were sharp, fierce—something he’d never seen from her before.

Wait—that’s Qiao Sijin?! The Qiao Sijin?! The award-winning actress?

What the hell is happening here?

This was turning into a horror story!

Zhou turned back, looking more carefully this time. Earlier he’d assumed he was accidentally witnessing someone else’s romantic moment and averted his gaze out of politeness.

He had kept telling himself: Don’t look. Don’t pry.

“Listen to me, Qingyun. I know you’re drunk. But I’m begging you… please let me go.”

“From the moment I left, I made up my mind. We’re completely, irrevocably done. There’s no going back.”

Stop giving her false hope.

She didn’t want it anymore.

She pushed Fu Qingyun’s hand away and stumbled forward. She didn’t care where she went.

Anywhere was better than staying.

Besides—she still hadn’t used the bathroom! She was about to burst!

Staring at her empty palm.

Fu Qingyun stood frozen.

Half her drunkenness vanished with the shock of what had just happened. What the hell was she doing?

Clenching her fingers into a fist, she exhaled shakily, eyes fixed on Qiao Sijin’s frail back.

The pain from her injured hand grew sharper, more vivid.

It felt like it was crawling up her veins, into her lungs and heart—choking her.

Had those feelings she showed just now… really been her true emotions?