After the Breakup, the Crazy Movie Queen Clings to Me Every Day (GL) - Chapter 28.2

To make a scene, to go mad, to demand the world make way for you that requires capital, the right to do so.

Wen Fei was suddenly speechless, unsure how to comfort Lan Jingli.

She couldn’t bear to see others lose hope, but for a fleeting moment, she glimpsed a ferocious, sorrowful flame in Lan Jingli’s eyes, as if the woman had been momentarily possessed by a storm of rage.

It was the kind of look one gets after being betrayed and abandoned by the person they loved and trusted most.

That’s why she was so quiet, as still as a dormant volcano.

“Even if you say that,” the android girl said, unable to comprehend how Lan Jingli could suppress such turbulent emotions, “if it were me, I’d tear the world apart.”

Lan Jingli smiled faintly, murmuring, “Only clowns need to perform.”

It was merely excising the festering flesh from a festering wound. The pain might be unbearable, but it was better than the endless torment of suppuration to come.

Just a little pain.

“Hmph, the real clowns are the ones who bottle up their feelings, tossing and turning in frustration, unable to act on their anger,” Wen Fei retorted, thinking of Tan You’s demeanor. “I knew I wasn’t wrong about her.”

********

The chairman’s office at Tan Group was pitch-black as the cosmos at night. The glow from the orchid lamp on the desk reflected in the window, illuminating the woman’s deep, elegant features with a hazy, indescribable restraint.

Shu Su stepped out of the private elevator, knocked, and pushed the door open. She saw the pale-faced woman with her long hair cascading down, calmly practicing calligraphy. Her pristine white dress trailed across the floor like piled snowdrifts.

The desk was already piled high with discarded sheets of paper.

The calligraphy on the paper was vigorous and natural, its strokes concealing a sharp edge beneath their flowing lines. Yet the slight disarray betrayed the writer’s barely suppressed agitation.

In all the years she had known Tan You, Shu Su had never seen her so emotionally disordered. It was utterly out of character.

“What’s wrong? Are you in a bad mood today?” Shu Su unfolded one of the discarded sheets, her eyes widening at the sight of the page filled with the character (“orchid”). She glanced at the potted orchid beside the desk, understanding dawning in her eyes.

Deep within Tan You’s dark eyes, complex emotions swirled like shifting colors. The purple-haired calligraphy brush she held in her fingertips absorbed the faint coolness of her body temperature.

“No, I’m just dissatisfied with my practice strokes,” Tan You forced herself to ignore the burning pain of her addiction flaring up, and the unpleasant agitation it brought.

“Didn’t you used to love hand-copying the Dao De Jing? This ‘Lan’ character… what does it refer to?”

Tan You’s hand froze mid-stroke, and a drop of ink splattered onto the pristine rice paper, ruining it once again. A familiar sense of frustration washed over her, like spilled water that couldn’t be retrieved.

“Orchid?” Shu Su pointed to a potted plant in the corner. “Newly cultivated?”

“Mm,” Tan You replied, lowering her lashes and setting down her brush, going along with the suggestion.

“Could it be because of Wei Xueyin? Did you two have a fight?” Shu Su had seen Wei Xueyin leave in a car earlier, her expression slightly resentful.

“It has nothing to do with her.”

“Really? Young couples shouldn’t quarrel so easily. If there’s a problem, sit down and talk it out properly.”

Tan You frowned almost imperceptibly. “There’s nothing between us.”

Seeing Tan You’s reluctance to elaborate, Shu Su didn’t press further. She settled into her chair, adopting a serious businesslike demeanor.

“I’m here to discuss Yunshu Entertainment’s upcoming tenth-anniversary celebration. We need to plan the program, decide who to invite… The vice president suggested replicating today’s performance. Lan Jingli and Wen Fei are incredibly popular right now. We should strike while the iron’s hot and collaborate on more dance tracks. It would be a win-win for us.”

“A win-win?” Tan You’s lips curled into a barely perceptible cold smile. She suddenly recalled the library, where the brilliant light had cast a golden halo around Lan Jingli’s long hair. The girl’s eyes, bright as stars, had been fixed on someone else.

I wonder how close those two have become, attending classes together at school. Tan You thought. I shouldn’t have trusted Lan Jingli so easily. I should have kept her locked by my side, controlling every aspect of her life, every moment.

“Right. We’ll draft the proposal, review it thoroughly, and then submit it to you,” Shu Su said matter-of-factly.

“Have it drafted for my review.”

“Huh? You’re really going to personally oversee the entertainment division now?” Shu Su was utterly perplexed. While the entertainment division’s annual profits weren’t insignificant, they paled in comparison to the Tan Group’s other core business sectors.

What nerve has Tan You suddenly touched? Shu Su wondered. Why is she suddenly taking such a serious interest in this area?

Tan You didn’t reply, her lips pressed into a thin line as she focused intently on the computer screen.

“The initial idea is to hold a grand prize draw, offering generous rewards to everyone. The media, employees, celebrities with ten first-place, ten second-place, and ten honorable mention prizes,” Shu Su explained.

Tan You’s gaze flickered as she deliberately added, “Let’s add a special grand prize.”

Shu Su paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Fine, you’re the boss. Do whatever you want.”

A knock came at the mahogany office door. After receiving permission, a staff member entered carrying a thermal container.

“Chairman Tan, the Snow Pear Soup you ordered from the kitchen is here. We added osmanthus syrup as requested.”

“Excellent. Thank you for your hard work. Today’s wages will be tripled, and you may leave for the day.”

As the staff member set out utensils and a porcelain bowl filled with the enticingly fragrant Snow Pear Soup, Shu Su grew genuinely puzzled.

“Didn’t you say you don’t like sweet things like this?”

“Mm, I don’t,” Tan You replied, her lips, as dewy as flower petals, parting slightly as she took a sip of the soup. Her brow furrowed slightly, her gaze tightening.

This isn’t the right flavor. Something’s off.

“You don’t like it, yet you’re drinking it? Talking to you is exhausting.”

Tan You sighed deeply. “Just a momentary whim.”

“Is your marriage to Wei Xueyin bothering you? If you don’t like her, why not just call it off now?”

Tan You reverted to her usual cool, detached demeanor, twirling the engagement ring on her middle finger. “Why would I call it off now?”

Shu Su gasped for breath. “So, you’re saying you love Wei Xueyin and want to spend the rest of your life with her?”

As soon as the words left her lips, she noticed Tan You staring at her with an odd expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No wonder you never wanted to inherit the Shu family,” Tan You said. “Your ideas are far too romantic and sentimental.”

“Exactly! I’m not as cold-blooded and ruthless as you. You’ve always been the rational one since childhood.”

Tan You suddenly felt the cold black opal necklace in her pocket, its chill seeping into her heart.

She believed in viewing the world through a rational lens, while love was an emotion—to her, it meant losing control.

Having already endured a body she loathed for its lack of control, she refused to surrender her soul to such chaos.

She couldn’t pinpoint the source of her unease. Perhaps it stemmed from her addiction remaining unchecked, causing her to occasionally think of Lan Jingli, her chest stinging as if stung by a bee.

She was accustomed to her heartbeat maintaining a steady, unhurried rhythm, not this erratic, fluctuating pace. Though the palpitations were subtle, the loss of control felt utterly repulsive.

Silently, she gazed at the osmanthus blossoms floating in her bowl, a faint, icy smile curving her lips.

“Mm, you’re right. It’s not like it’s anything special anyway. If you don’t want it, fine.”

Shu Su had already reached the door when she heard Tan You’s eerie, murmured words. A chill ran down her spine.

“Stop being so creepy, muttering such strange things to yourself.”

Seeing Tan You still staring at the bowl of Snow Pear Soup, Shu Su couldn’t stand it any longer. She immediately called Aunt Wan and asked her to come pick Tan You up right away.

At the same time, Lan Jingli and Wei Yixi returned to their company dorm. After showering, they prepared for bed.

Back in her room, Lan Jingli noticed her old MP3 player tucked under her pillow. She hesitated before picking it up, not opening it with her usual reverence. Instead, she held it in her palm for a long time.

She whispered to herself, “Forget it. If I don’t want it, I don’t want it.”

*********

Yunshu Entertainment had been on a roll lately, especially with the debut of Syzygy, a band featuring Lan Jingli and Wei Yixi. Their solid vocals and dance skills had earned them a massive following of die-hard fans.

The company’s success was further boosted by Shu Su’s appointment as CEO and the blockbuster success of her two directorial ventures.

As a result, the tenth-anniversary celebration of Yunshu Entertainment drew a massive crowd of media outlets, corporate executives, and industry insiders.

Some attendees secretly hoped to catch a glimpse of Tan You, though they knew that entertainment was just a tiny sliver of the Tan Group’s vast empire. Getting Tan You to attend would be an almost impossible feat.

After entering the banquet hall, Lan Jingli and Wei Yixi discreetly retreated to a corner, devouring the buffet. Their recent workload had been so intense that they barely had time to eat or sleep, forcing them to seize every moment to replenish their energy.

Just as they were debating between pork chops and roast chicken, a bright and sophisticated woman approached them. She said softly, “Lan Jingli, do you remember me?”

“Director Shu, it’s been a while,” Lan Jingli replied politely, quickly setting down her plate.

“Your recent performance has been excellent. The web drama you starred in is still climbing in viewership. Just keep up the good work.”

“Thank you, Director Shu.”

Shu Su pouted slightly, deliberately raising her voice:

“Why do you always keep such a distance from everyone? Or is it just that I look too intimidating, making you want to avoid me at all costs?”

“No, Director Shu, you’re joking.”

“Call me Su Su. Don’t be so formal.” Shu Su’s lips curved into an amused smile as she watched Lan Jingli’s flustered reaction.

Seeing Shu Su waiting for her to use the nickname, Lan Jingli reluctantly forced out a “Su Su.”

“Mm, I’ll be waiting for you,” Shu Su said, her voice rising at the end, “waiting for you to play the lead in my next project. Now, have fun and try not to worry so much. I have some other business to attend to, but I’ll come find you later.”

Before leaving, she glanced at Wei Yixi and smiled. “Your manager keeps telling me you refuse to act, wanting to focus solely on playing instruments?”

“Yeah, I’m just not cut out for acting. My face freezes up the moment a camera points at me,” Wei Yixi said, pulling a silly face.

Shu Su didn’t press further, knowing when to stop. She gestured to another investor and headed toward the VIP lounge.

Wei Yixi, munching on strawberry lemon ice cream from Alaska’s dessert buffet, sidled over and said, “President Shu and Chairman Tan are good friends, you know. Keep that in mind.”

“Okay, I understand,” Lan Jingli replied.

The evening was relatively relaxed, consisting mainly of dining and drinks, with no performance segments requiring their participation.

Finally, the highly anticipated raffle began. Lan Jingli had no intention of joining the crowd, but a waiter in a white tuxedo insisted on handing her a ticket.

“This year’s prizes are special,” Wei Yixi yawned, leaning against Lan Jingli. “They’ve added a grand prize. Remember last year? The first prize was a week-long trip to Bali, with a luxurious suite.”

“Yeah, neither of us qualified for the raffle back then,” Lan Jingli said, glancing at the Chinese character “Lan” on her ticket and smiling faintly.

“Mine says ‘Yue’,” Wei Yixi said. “I wonder if I’ll win anything. All I want is a week off to catch up on sleep. I’m so tired. Look at you—you never used to have dark circles, but now they’re so pronounced.”

The host from Yunshu Entertainment began announcing the winners of the various prizes.

“The grand prize winner, the Chinese character on the winning ticket is…(Lan).”

“The lucky winner of the grand prize is requested to claim their prize immediately on the fifth floor.”

The crowd buzzed with speculation about the winner’s identity. After scanning the room without success, they began guessing what the grand prize might be.

Some guessed a Maserati sports car, while others speculated it was a role in Shu Su’s upcoming film.

Lan Jingli sighed wearily as she looked at the Chinese character on her ticket. This is such a hassle, she thought, even considering giving it to a friend.

Wei Yixi, who hadn’t won any prizes that night, beamed at Lan Jingli’s win. “Go claim your prize! At least one of us got lucky tonight.”

“I don’t even want the grand prize. It’s boring.”

“What if it’s a fancy car or even a house? We don’t need a car right now, you could just sell it.”

“Too lazy to go. You can claim it for me, it’s yours,” Lan Jingli said calmly, leaning back in her chair with languid grace.

Just as she was about to hand the ticket to Wei Yixi, the white-uniformed waiter approached and whispered:

“Please come with me to claim your prize.”

“Jingli, your luck is finally turning around!” Wei Yixi winked at her. “Go claim it quickly—it might be something you really want.”

Lan Jingli nodded reluctantly, agreeing to go through the motions. She followed the waiter through a side door, asking curiously, “What’s the prize?”

“Patience, madam. You’ll find out soon enough. Please follow me upstairs; the answer will be revealed shortly.”

The waiter led her toward the luxurious suites. Lan Jingli grew increasingly uneasy. Just claiming a prize shouldn’t require a hotel room, she thought.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “Can you at least tell me what the grand prize is?”

The waiter maintained his ambiguous, “Please remain calm” expression as he pressed the elevator button for the 33rd floor. After exiting the elevator, he slowly pushed open the suite’s heavy, ornate door.

A slender, elegant figure stood in the room.

As night fell, the city lights glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, accentuating the woman’s icy grace, ethereal beauty, and formidable presence.

“The grand prize is dinner with Chairman Tan,” the waiter announced, his voice tinged with envy and jealousy, yet his professional smile remained unwavering. “Chairman Tan, Miss Lan has arrived.”

“Hmm, let her in,” the woman replied, her raven hair cascading like silk. A hint of haughtiness lingered in her demeanor as she remained seated, making no move to greet Lan Jingli.

“Wait,” Lan Jingli said, her expression impassive, a chilling aura radiating from her. “Can I decline the prize?”

The waiter looked as if he’d heard an impossible tale. “Miss Lan, you… you don’t want to spend a pleasant evening dining with Chairman Tan?” he asked incredulously. “Rest assured, everything tonight will remain strictly confidential. You have nothing to worry about. We have professional ethics. If I breathe a word of this, I’d lose my job.”

Lan Jingli’s gaze remained indifferent, rejecting the offer as casually as she would junk food. “It has nothing to do with confidentiality. I simply don’t want to.”

Hearing Lan Jingli’s refusal, Tan You’s brow furrowed slightly, her pale face radiating a delicate, fragile air. She stepped toward Lan Jingli, signaling the waiter to leave. The heavy, ornate door swung shut with a resounding thud.

Lan Jingli smiled faintly and turned to leave, but Tan You grabbed her wrist, her voice tinged with restrained anger.

“Li Li, haven’t you had enough of this nonsense?”