After the Breakup, the Crazy Movie Queen Clings to Me Every Day (GL) - Chapter 14

“The crystal chandelier’s magnificent glow cast a faint, dusky shadow over Lan Jingli’s thin eyelids.”

*****

She watched silently as a chattering flock of women gathered around Tan You, their familiar intimacy a world she couldn’t enter.

The little koi fish in her heart, which had been happily swimming just a moment ago, sank to the bottom of the pond, dejected.

Just as she was about to walk toward them, Aunt Wan instructed a servant to close the heavy parlor doors, shutting Lan Jingli out.

“Apologies, Miss Lan. You can’t go in yet.”

The solid wooden doors closed with a thud, forcing Lan Jingli to step back. A few petals from the poppies she had brought for Tan You fell to the floor, where they were trodden underfoot.

Aunt Wan led her to Tan You’s living quarters. “My lady will see you very soon.”

Lan Jingli sat down, clutching the bouquet, and felt foolish. She wanted to shout, “I’m not a guest! Don’t treat me like this!”

For the first time, she regretted arriving at the mansion so early. It was like when she was a child, returning from the countryside to the city to see her mother, only to find not her mother’s embrace, but another happy family of three.

No one is irreplaceable. Why am I feeling so sorry for myself?

She tried to put the poppy bouquet into an ancient porcelain vase in the corner, but found it was already filled with a single, vibrant, deep-red rose.

Lan Jingli sat on the sofa, lost in thought, until twilight fell and the last ray of sun vanished below the horizon.

The darkness made her night blindness worse, and she felt as if she were trapped in a thin, suffocating black film.

After who knows how long, she heard a woman’s soft, fragrant breathing, like fireworks and fireflies in the dark.

“Li-Li.” Tan You had already bathed, her hair carrying a soft, alluring scent. She knelt beside Lan Jingli.

Her eyes were closed, her slightly upturned lashes damp. The corners of her eyes were flushed a vivid scarlet, a look somewhere between a fallen enchantress and a sacred, fragile saint.

It was 8:17 on a Saturday night. A scorching addiction and desire surged from the depths of her heart. Tan You bit her lip, suppressing every pained, shallow breath.

“Sister, who were those people?” Lan Jingli’s body, which had been cold, also began to warm up. But she wasn’t falling in line with Tan You’s wishes as she usually did.

Saturday night was, by convention, a night without medication, a night for “Lan Jingli.” Tan You just knelt in Lan Jingli’s lap, her voice indifferent.

“Li-Li, don’t be a spoilsport.”

Lan Jingli’s gaze fell on the deep-red rose in the vase, and her impulse to question her deflated instantly.

“Sister, I think I’ll go now.”

The woman’s expression didn’t change. She simply tidied her hair and moved to the other end of the sofa.

“Alright.”

The warm, intoxicating scent of her body dissipated. Lan Jingli froze for a moment, like a child who, after throwing a tantrum, assumes they’ll get their toy back—only to find their unreasonable behavior has left them with nothing at all.

******

The next morning, Wei Yixi was surprised to find Lan Jingli sleeping in their dorm room.

“Jingli, why are you back? Isn’t Saturday night your time to… serve?”

Lan Jingli sat up, her hair a messy nest, and didn’t answer.

“In our line of work, the one thing you can’t do is fall for a client.”

“What are you talking about?” Lan Jingli lowered her gaze, troubled, unsure if she was making a big deal out of nothing. She simply gave Wei Yixi a brief recap of what happened.

“So you didn’t go up there and hit someone?” Wei Yixi teased. In her eyes, Lan Jingli was a bit of a daredevil.

At school, kids would pick on her for her shabby clothes, calling her names. They’d often throw her books away or splash ink on her uniform.

Normally, Lan Jingli wouldn’t react, but one time, someone called her a bastard and a motherless child. She grabbed a chair and fought with five or six people at once.

It was five or six against one, but she didn’t dodge or hold back. She went for the one who had insulted her, hitting them with a ferocity that terrified the whole school, and no one ever dared to bully her again.

Wei Yixi saw in Lan Jingli a kind of reckless, don’t-give-a-damn spirit. It was usually well-hidden, but in certain moments, it would erupt like a tidal wave.

Lan Jingli had no words.

“Alright, come with me to a concert. Someone named Wei Xueyin sent you tickets yesterday.” Wei Yixi repeated her earlier point: “Don’t fall for a client.”

Wei Xueyin… Lan Jingli remembered. It was the person Tan You had asked her to look after. The tickets must have been a thank-you gift for teaching her a few songs.

It was a strange feeling. Was this what friends did for each other? Exchanging gifts?

“It’s a violin concert of Shang Lingjue. I think I remember her. She was super popular in that ‘Meet’ girl group. She’s talented and beautiful, and she’s been abroad for years without a single scandal. It’s weird.”

Wei Yixi briefed Lan Jingli as they headed out the door.

*****

In the ballroom of a high-end club, Lan Jingli and Wei Yixi, both dressed in proper attire, listened intently to the violin recital.

It wasn’t a long performance, and she had expected to be bored to sleep. But the moment the stunning and statuesque musician stepped on stage and played the first note, they both sat up straight, mesmerized for the entire hour and a half.

The line for autographs was long. When it was Lan Jingli’s turn, Shang Lingjue’s pen ran out of ink, and she had to switch to another.

The theme of the concert was “Unwavering Love,” so Shang Lingjue asked as a matter of routine, “Do you have someone you love? We can sign a phrase that’s meaningful to you both.”

Lan Jingli was momentarily stunned. A phrase meaningful to her and Tan You?

It seemed… they didn’t have one.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was the deep-mountain rainy night under the same umbrella, when she had wanted to hold it for her forever.

There was the small pudding they shared, the sweetest ice cream.

And there were the fireworks the woman had set off just to help her night blindness.

And the ninety-nine letters she had sent that received no reply.

“You don’t? If you think of someone’s name when I ask this question,” Shang Lingjue’s voice was ethereal, as if she were recalling a distant memory, “then that’s probably them.”

As she spoke, she, too, thought of a certain name. The feeling was so deep—was it pain or joy? She wondered if it might be better not to remember at all.

“Please write ‘Love-in-a-mist’ for me.”

Though Shang Lingjue appeared gentle and polite, a lingering sorrow clung to her beautiful, untamable brows. Lan Jingli felt that this brilliant, shining person was not truly happy.

“Alright, here you are,” Shang Lingjue said, writing the words with a serious air. She added, “Remember to show it to the person you love. Don’t do it too early, but don’t wait too long either.”

“Thank you.”

Lan Jingli took the autograph and walked out, looking down. She accidentally bumped into someone. She was about to apologize when she saw a woman in all black steal one last lingering glance at the stage before gracefully and elegantly leaving.

The woman was wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a mask. Her figure was slender and tall, and even though her features were hidden, she exuded an air of captivating charm.

She ran off in such a hurry, her actions were suspicious. Could she have been a stalker?

Lan Jingli opened her phone and saw three missed calls from Aunt Wan, and a single text message with just a few words:

[The Seventh Miss wants to see you.]

She was standing at the entrance to the ballroom, where a chauffeur in white gloves was already holding the car door open, waiting for her.

Less than an hour later, she arrived at the deep-mountain mansion.

Tan You was in the specimen room, watching the golden koi swim back and forth with interest. Her eyes were captivating and seductive yet pure and understated, as subtly cold as a lotus.

“Li-Li, why did you turn off your phone?” The woman’s tone was soft and gentle, as if she had been deeply wronged. “Don’t be angry anymore. I missed you so much.”

Lan Jingli’s heart instantly softened. “I wasn’t angry. I went to a violin concert today, and they asked us to turn off our phones.”

“Li-Li, from now on, you have to come see me every Saturday, okay?”

“Mm,” Lan Jingli hesitated for a moment. “Okay.”

“And,” Tan You’s fair, delicate fingertips traced circles around Lan Jingli’s collarbone, “no matter what, you are not allowed to be mad at me.”

To her surprise, Lan Jingli didn’t agree outright. Instead, she asked to add Tan You on WeChat.

The woman squinted slightly, seemingly weighing whether Lan Jingli’s request was reasonable.

“If you’re so well-behaved, then fine. Add me.”

Less than two seconds after they connected, Tan You received a message from Lan Jingli. She opened it to find an emoji of a heart-fire-spewing magic wand.

“What is this?”

Lan Jingli’s eyes curved into little crescents as she smiled. “Sister, this is the True Love Magic. If I ever get mad at you, you just have to send this to me, and I’ll instantly forgive you and rush right to you.”

“You’re so childish,” Tan You laughed dismissively, a flirtatious charm in her eyes. “I won’t send it.”