After the Breakup, the Crazy Movie Queen Clings to Me Every Day (GL) - Chapter 25.1

For a moment, Lan Jingli remained motionless, her sharp gaze fixed silently on Wei Xueyin, her expression like a polished ice sword drawn from its sheath, slowly melting in the sunlight.

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She had seen Tan You navigate social gatherings with effortless grace, witnessed her solemn composure at work, and even glimpsed moments of tender, burning passion.

But she had never seen Tan You in a wedding dress, about to marry someone else.

“Jingli, Jingli, your hand is bleeding…” Wei Yixi noticed Lan Jingli unconsciously gripping the wooden railing of the pavilion so tightly that bl00d was seeping from her fingertips.

“It’s nothing. I don’t feel any pain,” Lan Jingli said, shaking her hand. She genuinely felt no pain; after all, no one had ever cared for her in her life, and she was long accustomed to enduring pain in silence.

“Oh dear, Jingli, your hand is bleeding! It’ll look terrible on camera and bring bad luck. Wipe it off quickly!” Wei Xueyin exclaimed, her voice feigning concern and urgency as she hastily summoned someone for tissues. “Don’t get my proposal video dirty because of you. Honestly, this is so annoying.”

Wei Yixi shot to her feet, wanting to protest that this was going too far. A wealthy heiress playing around in the entertainment industry, already blessed with money, power, and influence, and now she was getting engaged to her first love.

And that first love was Tan You—the dream goddess of countless people, a high-altitude flower that even daring to fantasize about felt presumptuous.

Having already achieved so much happiness, why not leave a little room for others to live?

After all, they had all been deceived by Wei Xueyin like dogs. The friend they’d shared days and nights with was now marrying the person they loved. Wei Yixi couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must feel like.

Her gaze softened with pity as she looked at Lan Jingli.

Wei Xueyin shrugged, her smile innocent and sweet.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I just want my dear friends’ blessings. You’ll all come to the engagement party, right? It’ll be so much fun!”

Wei Yixi’s brow furrowed, her expression suggesting she wanted to curse but couldn’t find the right words.

“Wei Xueyin, you’re such a good actress. Even a trash can couldn’t hold as much as you do.”

The fiery late spring suddenly fell silent. A fine, continuous rain began to fall, leaving a chill in the air that made it feel as though summer would never return.

As the three women stood locked in a tense standoff, Wei Xueyin’s phone rang. She answered with a delighted, “Youyou, great! I’ll be right there. Did you come all the way here to pick me up?”

“Mm-hmm. My filming wrapped up. I just need to pack.”

“I asked Jingli to help record our engagement wishes. You know how much you wanted to see it.”

“Okay, I’ll go arrange the engagement banquet details.”

After hanging up, Wei Xueyin straightened her collar and glanced at Lan Jingli. “Never mind. One less person won’t make a difference.”

Her assistant, seeing her turn away so casually, hurried after her. “Miss, Miss! Aren’t we recording anymore?”

“Change my clothes. I’m going on a date with Youyou.”

Suddenly, Lan Jingli seemed to snap out of her daze. She lowered her gaze and slowly sat down on the pavilion steps, the light rain dripping onto her fingertips from the eaves.

She still clutched the scientific illustration of the heartleaf plant.

Wei Yixi sat down beside her. “Don’t look like your whole family died. They’re not getting engaged today—just recording a video. It’s nothing special. Wei Xueyin even put some thought into it, arranging the video order based on how long each person has known Tan You.”

“Thoughtful,” Lan Jingli murmured hoarsely.

“At least you didn’t find out after taking medication, getting pregnant, and having a child, only to be told you were the other woman,” Wei Yixi scoffed. “These big shots are capable of anything, right?”

For a moment, no one spoke, only the soft patter of rain filled the silence.

Lan Jingli suddenly stood up, but Wei Yixi pulled her back down.

“Jingli, what are you doing?”

“Nothing, just thinking,” Lan Jingli replied, her heart feeling hollow.

“Sigh, you really do like Tan You, don’t you? If I’d known, I would have tried to dissuade you.”

“Dissuade me from what?”

“What I mean is…” Wei Yixi rubbed her eyes, inhaling the fishy scent of the rain. “The gap between you and Tan You is just too vast. She’s truly… worlds apart from us ordinary people.”

Lan Jingli’s breathing quickened. She asked, her eyes half-closed, “What’s the difference?”

“She’s worth billions, while you earn 2,000 a month—barely enough to support yourself. Even if we become famous later, what would that mean compared to those tycoons? I’m not trying to tell you to chase after love recklessly. All those things I said before… what I really meant was…” Wei Yixi’s gaze drifted away, her voice trailing off. “…Forget it.”

“Yeah, forget it,” Lan Jingli agreed, her head bowed, her gaze hollow.

“Good for you for being so understanding.”

“But…” Lan Jingli’s voice twisted, like a candle flame struggling against a fierce wind.

“What else could you do? Run to their wedding and shout your objections? Would that even matter? Like that line from a Stephen Chow movie: ‘They’re a perfect match, a match made in heaven. What right does a monster like you have to object?'”

“A monster…?”

“Yeah. Compared to people like them, aren’t we just monsters?”

Lan Jingli kept her head down. “But…”

“No more ‘buts.’ Just treat it like a dream. In our line of work, you can’t fall for clients,” Wei Yixi repeated her golden rule. “Don’t compare your worthless life to something someone else cherishes. In this world, life is the cheapest commodity.”

“But I thought she liked me too.”
“Just what you thought, right?”

I thought… I thought… Was it all just what I thought?

Lan Jingli stared blankly at the rain-streaked window. That aloof, stunning woman had bought her a Harry Potter LEGO castle, declared her birthday would henceforth be celebrated on the tranquil winter solstice, and forbade her from loving anyone else, threatening to kill her if she did.

She had said she wanted to wear the wedding dress Lan Jingli would make with her own hands.

She had said so much—so much, so tender, so certain, so convincing that Lan Jingli believed she was loved.

Was love just a deception? A fantasy for the hopeless?

Lan Jingli’s clear, bright face bloomed into a radiant smile. She patted Wei Yixi’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

But when Tan You was kind to her—caring, gentle, and attentive—it felt so much like love.

Lan Jingli had always been a pessimistic, unlikable child, quiet and melancholy from a young age. Her love for Tan You had grown silently, quietly, afraid that even a slightly louder declaration would shatter the fragile beauty she had so painstakingly cultivated.

Yet it had shattered anyway.

Why?!

Why was her fate so worthless?

“Jing… Jingli, are you okay?” Wei Yixi asked, startled by the strange expression on Lan Jingli’s face.

This was the first time she had ever seen Lan Jingli so… genuinely emotional. Her heart jolted, and all the words of comfort she wanted to offer caught in her throat.

This child, without any connections or support, didn’t even have family to attend parent-teacher conferences.

What could someone like her possibly achieve?

“I’m fine, it’s just…”

Just what? Lan Jingli’s mind went blank, unable to form a coherent thought.

Wei Yixi frantically shook Lan Jingli’s hand. “Your phone’s ringing! It’s a call!”

Just a spam call. Lan Jingli glanced at it and hung up. She wasn’t as attuned to phone calls as she was to WeChat notifications, because Tan You had never called her; they only communicated through text.

Suddenly, she realized that her encounter with Tan You hadn’t been in a field blooming with black cosmos, but rather on a narrow log bridge spanning a misty river.

The bridge was so narrow that only one person could cross at a time. When two people met face-to-face, their hearts brushed as they passed, their eyes locking—either as enemies or lovers.

She had once asked Tan You if she remembered her. The woman didn’t answer.

But silence, in itself, was an answer.

I don’t remember. I don’t need to remember. I don’t want to remember.

Wei Yixi listened to Lan Jingli’s self-absorbed monologue and snorted with amusement. “Stop acting like you’re the only one in this play. It’s all because Tan You is so stunningly beautiful, her beauty could topple empires. If some ugly guy had bought you that pudding, you’d just think he was a creepy old man.”

Lan Jingli stared at Wei Yixi, who was laughing so hard she nearly doubled over, but couldn’t bring herself to smile.

Suddenly, Wei Yixi stopped laughing, her tone turning earnest, almost pleading. “Jingli, just admit you were smitten at first sight. She’s just an exceptionally beautiful woman. If you try hard enough, you could find another one.”

“Really?” Lan Jingli thought back to the day they reunited. Tan You had glanced at her briefly before lowering her gaze, a simple gesture that seemed to make the sunlight brighten and dim. “I think… I want to find her.”

“Hey, are you crazy? Finding her won’t change anything. Do you really think she’d abandon everything to run away with you?” Wei Yixi continued to nag, but her heart was trembling and softening. “Go ahead, then. Even death row inmates don’t cry until they see their coffins.”

“But…” Lan Jingli suddenly looked up.

“But what ‘but’? All your rambling just makes you miserable,” Wei Yixi said, kicking a puddle of rainwater. “Wei Xueyin is simply a better match for Tan You than you are.”

Lan Jingli didn’t let Wei Yixi finish. She brushed aside her rain-soaked bangs and strode away from the pavilion with a breezy air, leaving Lan Jingli sitting foolishly on the half-wet steps.

In truth… Wei Yixi wasn’t wrong. Wei Xueyin was better—a better match for Tan You.

She attended a prestigious private school, received a refined education in etiquette, excelled academically, and knew how to order steak, appreciate fine wine, and critique works of art.

It was clear to anyone who saw them together that Wei Xueyin deeply cared for Tan You. At the bridal shop, Lan Jingli had witnessed Wei Xueyin meticulously wiping down Tan You’s chair, first with a sanitizing wipe, then with a paper towel.

Unimaginable, isn’t it? A proud young heiress stooping to do something like that for someone else.

When the two women sat down together, Lan Jingli had naively believed she was witnessing the pinnacle of their friendship.

But the truth was, the deep affection in Wei Xueyin’s eyes when she gazed at Tan You was so palpable it nearly dripped like spring rain.

Yet Lan Jingli, the oblivious fool, had failed to see it.

If Wei Xueyin knew about her relationship with Tan You, she would be heartbroken. After all, Wei Xueyin adored Tan You so much.

Fortunately, Tan You had chosen Wei Xueyin.

Didn’t everyone see this as a perfect happy ending? Childhood sweethearts finally together?

So many people had congratulated them…

Even Xi Xi had urged her to give up…

But… she truly loved Tan You too.

The wind blew raindrops off the eaves, and tiny droplets clung to Lan Jingli’s eyelashes. She found a plastic sheet to protect the scientific painting, then silently set off for the villa in the mountains.

A light drizzle fell as she walked along the only road, clutching the painting. Several cars sped past, but the painting was too large to fit in a taxi, so she had no choice but to walk.

Before long, the once-busy road emptied, leaving only roadside signs surrounded by a misty rain swirling in the wind.

She wanted to hurry, to stride confidently to Tan You and hear her say calmly that it was all just tabloid rumors.

But she found herself slowing down with each step.

Lan Jingli leaned wearily against the base of a dark green Bodhi tree, panting softly. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest.

The rain-soaked street stretched out before her like a scene in slow motion. She watched the elegant, aloof woman step out of the car, her black hair cascading down her slender waist like a dark cloud, swaying gently with each movement. The crimson mole at the tip of her ear burned like a flame against the snow-white skin.

Aunt Wan carried a large tote bag. Lan Jingli recognized it as the one Wei Xueyin had been holding earlier—a gift for Tan You, she realized.

Breathing felt like a monumental effort. Lan Jingli lowered her head and trailed behind at a distance, her footsteps echoing softly on the wet pavement.

“Li Li, what are you doing here?”

Yes, today wasn’t Saturday, nor was it 7 p.m.—not the time Lan Jingli was supposed to appear.

After what felt like an eternity, Lan Jingli snapped out of her daze. She saw Tan You standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, her presence as pristine and cold as a flower grown in a sterile environment.

She had to admit, she’d been troubled from the moment she first laid eyes on this woman. Yet every time she heard Tan You’s voice, received a WeChat message from her, or saw her face, her dreary life suddenly felt less bleak, and the darkness no longer seemed so frightening.

In truth, she didn’t ask for much, just for this woman to remain in her life.

“The filming is done,” Tan You said, her long, dark lashes lowered as she gently beckoned. “Li Li, come here.”

Her intimate, calm tone made Lan Jingli feel as if nothing had happened, as if no one was getting engaged, and she wasn’t a fool come seeking answers.
“You’re getting engaged to Wei Xueyin.”

Tan You paused, and Lan Jingli stared intently at the woman, hoping to discern something in her cold eyes—whether it was the regret of a forced decision, the loneliness of a choice made out of necessity, or even a deliberate display of indifference.

But there was nothing. Those deep, dark eyes remained beautifully indifferent.

Her voice was light and casual as she plucked at the delicate strings of her qin with a slender, pale finger. “Yes, Xueyin and I are getting engaged. Is there a problem?”

It was as if she were discussing tomorrow’s weather turning from sunny to cloudy.

“You never mentioned it,” Lan Jingli said, feeling her soul float away. The person speaking to Tan You now wasn’t her, but a pathetic creature who had overestimated herself and come begging for humiliation.

“It’s not too late to know now,” Tan You said dismissively, her black dress contrasting sharply with her snow-white skin. Her posture was composed as she focused on wiping rosin onto the qin strings.

Her hands, usually occupied with burning incense and tuning the qin, were as cold and smooth as jade. Occasionally, a few notes drifted from her fingertips, faint and ethereal like flowing water.

These few simple words, like pebbles tossed into the waves, fell with the force of thunder.

Lan Jingli’s entire body buzzed with a dull ache. As bl00d coursed through her limbs, it carried a wave of exhaustion that made her want to collapse.

“Then what are we?” she wanted to scream, but her voice came out as barely a whisper, like a mosquito’s buzz. “Sister, were you forced into this?”

To anyone else, Lan Jingli’s question would have sounded like madness. How could Tan You possibly be forced into anything? She did whatever she pleased, and no one could ever compel her to act against her will.

Yet Lan Jingli clung to this sliver of hope, the only thing that had sustained her through the deafening cheers celebrating Tan You and Wei Xueyin’s engagement.

If Tan You would just say she was forced, that she didn’t want this, that she was unhappy, then Lan Jingli could… could…

Could what?
Wei Yixi was right. Wei Xueyin was a better match for Tan You. If it were Wei Xueyin, she could make Tan You happy, take her away, elope with her to the ends of the earth.

But what about herself? With a meager salary of 2,000 yuan, she could barely afford plane tickets for two.

Most importantly, even if she wanted to take Tan You away, would Tan You even agree?

She couldn’t even make the person she loved happy.

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