After the Breakup, the Crazy Movie Queen Clings to Me Every Day (GL) - Chapter 28.1

The gilded wall lamps, embedded in the wall, cast a golden glow that illuminated the woman’s face; a face that suppressed her emotions, her restraint so complete it seemed utterly devoid of feeling.

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A waiter, hearing the commotion from the corridor, immediately entered with respectful deference. He glanced around the room and saw Tan You standing imperiously on the staircase, seemingly confronting two other individuals.

Concerned for Tan You’s well-being, he spoke first:

“Chairman Tan, is there anything you require?”

The woman’s gaze remained fixed on Lan Jingli’s hand, her tone measured and calm, though a flicker of darkness flashed in her eyes.

“This place is too dirty. It needs cleaning.”

The waiter glanced at the spotless bookshelves and floor, but dared not question further. He lowered his head to indicate he would immediately summon staff to clean the area.Though none of the three individuals present had acted aggressively, he desperately wanted to escape this tense, undercurrent-laden atmosphere.

A moment of silence returned to the study. Under the magnificent interplay of light from the wall lamps and chandelier, Lan Jingli finally saw Tan You’s face clearly.

*********

Under the golden light, her skin glowed like a jade bodhisattva, serene and ethereal.

She remained as aloof, distant, breathtakingly beautiful, and unpredictable as ever.

This was their second encounter in just a few days. In the past, Lan Jingli’s heart would have surged with emotion at merely knowing Tan You was in the same space.

But now, she felt like a stagnant pool of water—a pool that had slowly formed from the mud beneath Tan You’s feet as she desperately tried to crawl away.

Perhaps being stagnant water wasn’t so bad. Or having a heart as cold as ashes. At least she wouldn’t embarrass herself with unrequited feelings again.

Her only consolation was that she no longer found herself involuntarily drawn to Tan You.

That’s good news.

“Let’s go,” she whispered to Wen Fei, lowering her head. “To the balcony over there. I don’t want to see anyone else.”

Tan You’s hearing was sharp. Even though Lan Jingli’s voice was barely audible, she caught every word.

Her Li Li—her Lan Jingli—referring to her as “anyone else” in front of someone they’d barely met?

How intriguing. Utterly fascinating.

Tan You had never known Lan Jingli possessed such a cold, unfamiliar side.

“It’s windy and might rain on the balcony. We’re fine here,” Wen Fei said, her gaze darting between the two women, a hint of amusement and calculation in her eyes. “Chairman Tan is so kind, she wouldn’t kick us out, would she?”

The last three words were directed at Tan You.

“Are you two hiding here, playing around?” Tan You asked casually as she approached them, her jade-like eyes concealing unreadable emotions.

“Exactly! We snuck in, but we’re not just playing around. Chairman Tan, please don’t report us,” Wen Fei replied, seizing the opportunity to continue the conversation. She noticed Tan You’s delicate brows furrow for a fleeting moment.

Tan You’s hand tightened imperceptibly into a fist, her voice remaining cool and composed, though she didn’t notice the slight twinge in her heart.

“You’re both just starting out. You need to protect your reputations,” she said, her tone seemingly genuinely concerned. Under the soft lighting, her features appeared luminous and refined, her demeanor dignified and serene. “Distinguish between rumors and reality. If the media catches you in compromising photos, it’ll be difficult to explain.”

“Compromising photos?” Wen Fei stepped slightly in front of Lan Jingli, blocking Tan You’s view, and feigned deep thought. “I’m not sure I understand what kind of photos would be considered ‘compromising’ and what wouldn’t.”

Tan You paused, even biting her lip in a moment of uncharacteristic discomposure, before quickly regaining her composure.

“You two aren’t close. There’s no relationship between you. Don’t do anything that might be misinterpreted.”

“Thank you for the reminder, Chairman Tan. Actually, we’re quite close. We’re even planning to turn our act into reality. A’Jing, isn’t that right?”

Tan You noticed that Lan Jingli was still holding another bowl of Snow Pear Soup, seemingly unsure who it was for. Lan Jingli neither avoided Tan You’s gaze nor looked at her with the same adoring eyes as before.

It was as if she had truly become a stranger to Lan Jingli.

“We’ll be careful,” Lan Jingli replied with a polite, distant smile, as if their past had vanished like smoke. “Thank you, Chairman Tan.”

“You…” Tan You gazed at Lan Jingli under the soft light, her eyes catching the necklace Lan Jingli was wearing—a gift from someone else. She remarked casually, “Your necklace is very pretty. I didn’t expect you to change it so quickly.”

“I think this one suits me better,” Lan Jingli said, her eyes clear and sincere, like white plum blossoms in the snow—pure and untainted. She seemed to genuinely believe it.

“Did you not like the old one anymore?”

Lan Jingli finally met Tan You’s gaze directly, considering for a moment before smiling with newfound clarity. “It wasn’t suitable.”

“Is that so?” Tan You chuckled softly, her gaze dropping as if burned by the new necklace.

Wen Fei quietly averted her gaze, no longer dwelling on Lan Jingli’s aloof indifference. She had mistaken her for an easily placated, obedient child, only to find her so stubbornly unapproachable.

Lan Jingli hissed involuntarily as her finger brushed the rim of the Snow Pear Soup bowl, burning her. Wen Fei quickly took the bowl, her voice softening with genuine concern as she gently chided, “Why are you so clumsy? I told you not to help me make the soup, but you insisted. Honestly, you just care too much about me.”

Hearing Wen Fei’s absurd claim, Lan Jingli turned to look at her, puzzled. But Wen Fei’s face remained expressionless, as if lying were second nature to her.

Tan You gazed at the bowl of Snow Pear Soup, its surface sprinkled with osmanthus blossoms, her expression serene. Her dark eyes held a profound depth, making her jade-like complexion appear even more porcelain-white and fragile.

“You two… you’ve known each other for a while?”

Lan Jingli was about to answer when Wen Fei tugged at her sleeve, answering in meticulous detail, “We took the same general education courses. I didn’t want to reveal too much on the show, but I actually borrowed A’Jing’s notes all the time for homework. So we’re really close.”

Tan You forced a graceful smile, her eyes dark with hidden meaning.

Hmph, Lan Jingli has made so many “friends” right under my nose without me knowing. I’ve underestimated her from the very beginning.

Lan Jingli gazed at Lan Jingli, her red lips parting slightly. “So this is what university life is like so vibrant.”

The three stood in the library, an odd tension hanging in the air, until a fourth voice shattered the strange equilibrium.

“Youyou, you’re here! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Wei Xueyin approached Tan You, a light shawl draped over her shoulders, her tone carrying an intimate familiarity that excluded others. “Aunt Wan said you haven’t been feeling well lately. You need to take better care of yourself.”

Wei Xueyin raised her head, a subtle contempt and challenge flickering in her eyes. “Oh, what a coincidence, Jingli’s here too? Don’t tell me you’re…”

Though she deliberately left the sentence unfinished, Lan Jingli understood Wei Xueyin’s implication perfectly.

Lan Jingli couldn’t help but laugh inwardly. How could Wei Xueyin, the victor, be even more insecure than she was, rushing here to stake her claim?

The thought was absurd.

She had already acknowledged their compatibility and wished them a lifetime of happiness. What more could Wei Xueyin possibly want?

“Rest assured, I have no interest in what belongs to others.”

“What nonsense are you spouting, You… How dare you be so rude!” Wei Xueyin’s voice suddenly flared with anger.

Lan Jingli’s voice carried a hint of amusement. “I was just reassuring you. Why are you getting so worked up?”

Wei Xueyin’s face flushed crimson, then paled. She opened her mouth to retort, but Tan You’s calm voice cut through the air.

“Xueyin, what are you doing here?”

Those unfamiliar with Tan You might not realize that her composure was a sign of deep anger. Wei Xueyin immediately broke into a cold sweat.

“I came to see you.”

“What did I tell you earlier?”

Wei Xueyin remembered Tan You’s warning not to disturb Lan Jingli. “But I only wanted to see you! How was I supposed to know she’d be here too?”

Tan You said nothing, casting Wei Xueyin a brief, indifferent glance.

“…Okay, Youyou,” Wei Xueyin’s confidence faltered. “I’ll walk you back. My parents have picked out a few more engagement venues. See if you like any of them?”

“Mm,” Tan You murmured, wrapping her petal-white shawl tighter. Her gaze flickered to Lan Jingli’s face, a fleeting, almost imperceptible glance.

The woman’s eyes remained as clear as water, radiating a lonely brilliance—like a lantern burning brightly yet detached from the world. She seemed to regard Wei Xueyin with distant indifference.

Ke Lan Jingli understood: this was only what she could see.

Beyond her gaze, in a realm forever beyond her reach, Tan You and Wei Xueyin shared a world.

There, they had met, grown to know each other, fallen in love, separated, and reunited. They had planned their wedding, discussing the perfect dress, and their engagement announcement vlog had been so extravagant it nearly blinded her.

But she couldn’t bear to watch anymore. The sight of Tan You in that wedding gown had pierced her eyes like a dagger.

Tan You gave Lan Jingli one last lingering look, said nothing, and left.

Wei Xueyin hurried after her, but didn’t dare say another word.

Wen Fei placed the Snow Pear Soup on the table, propped her chin in her hand, and watched the pair leave. Suddenly, she said:

“There’s something going on between you and Chairman Tan.”

Her tone was so certain that Lan Jingli didn’t even have a chance to deny it or play dumb.

“Let me guess. They say Wei Xueyin was Chairman Tan’s first love. They broke up for a while, and just announced their engagement a few days ago. They’re inseparable now, all lovey-dovey. Did you… get together with Chairman Tan during their separation?”

Lan Jingli shook her head with a bitter smile, marveling at how Wen Fei, true to her reputation as a human-machine girl, had analyzed the situation with near-perfect accuracy.

“Impressive,” Wen Fei said, sizing Lan Jingli up and down. She had always found Lan Jingli beautiful, but she never imagined she could attract someone of Tan You’s caliber. “Dating Chairman Tan must have been quite an experience, right? Even just experiencing it once would be worth it.”

“No, it wasn’t dating…” Lan Jingli’s dark lashes lowered as she spoke with a hint of self-mockery.

“Wei Xueyin’s hostility toward you is at two hundred percent. Chairman Tan’s gaze may have been distant, but there were definitely moments when something felt off. You can’t fool me.” Wen Fei chuckled to herself. “Did you see Chairman Tan’s reaction when I said we were close?”

“I’m not trying to fool you. It really wasn’t dating,” Lan Jingli said, her lips curving into a wry smile, unsure what expression to wear. “I think she’s just… like that. She’s always been like that.”

It was something that didn’t even qualify as a relationship—a time when Lan Jingli had believed Tan You loved her too, when she thought they were happily together. In truth, during those silent moments, Tan You was longing for someone else far away.

Lan Jingli had merely been a plaything to relieve her boredom.

Besides, even if it were a real romance, they could still move the grave if they were buried together.

Wen Fei took a large bite of snow pear, her mouth filling with its sweet, juicy flavor. “I get it. You were probably just a jack, not even a spare tire. Just something they used when they needed to change the spare.”

“You’re so funny,” Lan Jingli said, glancing sideways at Wen Fei. “Hilarious.”

Wen Fei pressed her hand against Lan Jingli’s face, her expression disdainful. “If you don’t want to laugh, don’t. You look awful like that.”

“Oh.”

“What’s wrong? Are you upset? No, no, you don’t look awful. You look good no matter what expression you make, perfect from every angle.”

“Thank you,” Lan Jingli said, sitting down and checking her phone to see if her manager had contacted her.

“Tell me about Tan You and Wei Xueyin. Even if you don’t, I can guess. Just spill the beans.”

Lan Jingli remained silent, letting Wen Fei rattle off one plausible explanation after another.

“It was just a silly thing. I used to like her, but she got back together with her first love. That’s all there is to it,” Lan Jingli finally said, worn down by Wen Fei’s incessant chatter.

“Looks more like your girlfriend was stolen.”

Lan Jingli sighed weakly. “It’s not that… Never mind.”

Wen Fei patted her shoulder, indignation blazing in her eyes. “You should demand an explanation from Chairman Tan! Compensation for emotional distress is the least she owes you. Who knew such a stern and ascetic woman could be so… that?”

“Yeah, it’s not her fault. I’m just a fool,” Lan Jingli said with a wry smile, a flicker of cold mockery and defiance crossing her features.

It was like the three of them watching the sunset together, Lan Jingli imagining a bright future, oblivious to the fact that the other two were secretly holding hands behind her back.

What else could she be but a fool? Unable to sense the unspoken intimacy, blind to their obvious connection.

The only thing left to do was run farther and farther away.

“No, you were robbed of your girlfriend! Wei Xueyin is still your teammate on Syzygy, right? That’s so unethical! People like that deserve to be scorned!”

“Just drink your soup. I’m over it now. My life will only get better from here.”

Wen Fei stared at Lan Jingli, her face clear as a mirror, as if she truly didn’t care anymore.

“You should have made a scene right then and there,” Wen Fei said. “If they made your life miserable, you should have retaliated in kind.”

“That’s your way, Wen Fei, but it doesn’t work for me,” Lan Jingli replied softly, her head bowed.

Looking back now, she realized this was the price of her own greed. During those months in the countryside, living side-by-side with Tan You, she had repeatedly hesitated, her courage failing her at the last moment.

All her unspoken words had distilled into a single sentence: “I’m going to sleep now. Good night.”

Tan You always replied with the same words: “Sleep well.”

That should have been the end of their story.

But now… now, nothing she could say would change anything. By nature, she disliked conflict and only wanted to move forward, to reach a truly distant horizon.

Silence was the ultimate contempt.

“What’s wrong with demanding answers?”

Lan Jingli said calmly, “I believe there are things we might regret not doing in the future. Of course, we might also regret doing them. I often tell myself that everything is a choice, and there’s no point in regretting anything because regret is meaningless. But at night, I can’t help but wonder… what if I had done things differently?”

Actually, she had often wished she’d never gone to the Deep Mountain Estate that day. She’d even wished she’d never met Tan You, or even that she’d never been born at all…

But that’s life. Once you meet someone, it opens the door to a long and profound disappointment.

“Being bullied and just taking it? What’s the point? When I was in school, some kids picked on me because I came from a blended family and we had an adopted sister. They’d deliberately spill ink on my textbooks. When I found out, I bought a whole bucket of ink and dumped it on her. An eye for an eye, you know?”

“Yeah, you’re right. You should fight back when you’re bullied. But you have to think about the consequences too.”

“Consequences? What consequences?”

“At school, some kids used to say things about me—that my mom probably didn’t satisfy my stepfather, so he didn’t want me. I… I didn’t say a word. I just smashed a chair over the guy’s head.” Lan Jingli recalled the memory, a thin mist gathering in her peach-blossom eyes.

“Wow, bravo!” Wen Fei clapped enthusiastically, her face still composed. “I never imagined you had such a fiery side. What happened next?”

“Then the other student’s parents came to my door. The kind of place where I lived alone, where electricity was too expensive to turn on the lights. I stood in the shadows,” Lan Jingli said calmly, as if recounting someone else’s story. “I refused to apologize. The parents yelled for ages, until they were too tired to speak.”

“You’re so resilient! Jia Yang and I both admire people like that.”

Lan Jingli smiled, a radiant smile that momentarily stunned Wen Fei. She couldn’t understand why this timid, almost mute girl was suddenly smiling so beautifully.

“The medical bills came to 3,000 yuan. When my mother and stepfather heard about it, they told me to handle it myself,” Lan Jingli’s smile remained bright. “The teacher let me do chores to pay off part of the debt. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to afford school.”

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