After the Breakup, the Crazy Movie Queen Clings to Me Every Day (GL) - Chapter 29.2

“Knock, knock, knock. Is anyone there?” A woman’s voice, accompanied by the sound of knocking, cut through the soft, drizzling rain.

Wei Yixi, who had been dozing off, snapped awake and exchanged a glance with Lan Jingli.

“Yes, we’re here. Who is it?”

“You two are at the peak of your popularity. Why are you hiding here looking so miserable?”

The wooden door creaked open again, and Shu Su’s gentle, water-like voice drifted in.

Seeing Shu Su, Lan Jingli and Wei Yixi quickly stood up from the steps and greeted her.

“Good evening, President Shu. We were feeling cooped up inside, so we came out for some fresh air,” Wei Yixi said, holding a plate and looking slightly nervous.

“It is rather dull in there. The company is full of old fogies who drone on and on about tedious things. Utterly boring,” Shu Su said, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling. “Want me to drive you home? I haven’t had any alcohol.”

Wei Yixi waved her hand hastily, politely declining.

“Thank you, President Shu, but I have plans later. Why don’t you take Jingli home? She’s so thin, I’m afraid the wind might blow her into the river in this rain.”

“Alright, then be careful,” Shu Su said with a smile and a nod, watching Wei Yixi walk back inside before turning to Lan Jingli. “Jingli, I’ll drive you home.”

Lan Jingli was about to politely decline when Shu Su cut her off. “Are we not friends?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lan Jingli paused, sighing softly. “Then I’ll trouble you, President Shu.”

Shu Su opened her umbrella, feigning annoyance. “I told you to call me Su Su last time. How could you forget? You didn’t even call me Director Shu, just President Shu.”

“I’m sorry, Su Su. I promise I won’t do it again.”

Seeing Lan Jingli’s earnest apology, Shu Su burst out laughing. “Teasing you is so much fun.”

Lan Jingli: “……”

“I should have worn heels, but my feet would hurt, and there’s no one to carry me.” Shu Su lightly stood on tiptoe, trying to match Lan Jingli’s height, but still fell short by a few centimeters.

Noticing Shu Su nearly stumble, Lan Jingli quickly reached out to steady her. “Be careful, it’s slippery in the rain.”

“Thank you, you’re so kind,” Shu Su said, pleased to see Lan Jingli’s cheeks flush. “Relax a little. Do I seem too serious? Is it hard to talk to me? Is it because I act too much like a CEO, or is it the formal suit I’m wearing?”

“No, no, it’s my fault,” Lan Jingli said, admitting to being someone with strong defenses, finding it difficult to build close, trusting relationships.

Shu Su, still in the midst of their playful exchange, tapped her finger against the corner of her lips. “Or is it because I’m not pretty enough? You can’t even bear to look at me?”

Hearing this, Lan Jingli immediately snapped her wandering gaze back to Shu Su, focusing intently on her. “I’m sorry. It’s an old habit from when I was a child. I sometimes avoid eye contact when speaking. Plus, my night vision isn’t great, so I tend to look around a lot.”

“Alright, relax. Think of me as your friend, not someone scolding you,” Shu Su said, meeting Lan Jingli’s eyes. “But answer me honestly: am I pretty?”

“Uh… yes, very pretty. Especially pretty.”

Lan Jingli had never seen this side of Shu Su before. Usually so poised and elegant, with a mature and steady demeanor, how could she suddenly become so playful?

Shu Su smiled brightly. “You’re very handsome too.”

Checking the time, she sighed. “It’s getting late. Let me take you home. Ready to go?”

“Yes, thank you.”

In the damp rain, they crossed Central Park diagonally. The summer night was heavy with humidity and a chill, the sky painted a tranquil, wet blue, like a watercolor masterpiece.

“Su Su, let me hold the umbrella,” Lan Jingli said, taking the handle with thoughtful consideration.

“Okay, you’re taller, so it’ll be easier for you.”

Shu Su sensed a change in Lan Jingli, as if she were carrying a heavy burden in her heart. Like a feather soaked by rain, Lan Jingli seemed weighed down by a melancholy and loneliness that didn’t belong to her.

Shu Su wondered if something had happened, but she refrained from asking, maintaining her usual composure.

“I don’t like parking in underground garages. I’m sorry for making you walk so far in the rain,” Shu Su said as she folded the umbrella in front of the Porsche. She noticed that half of Lan Jingli’s body was soaked, while she herself remained completely dry.

Lan Jingli brushed it off, raindrops glistening as they slid down her elegant brow. “If it weren’t for you, I’d have had to walk home alone in the rain today. No friends to keep me company.”

“I have a first-aid kit in the car. Let me put some ointment on your wound,” Shu Su said, her long lashes fluttering adorably. “Don’t refuse me. It makes me uneasy to see an injury left untreated.”

As Lan Jingli settled into the passenger seat, she smiled and said, “It’s not serious. No need for bandages.”

“Shush, little one. Don’t speak out of turn.”

Inside the Porsche, the soft interior lights cast a gentle, non-glaring glow. The surrounding streets were nearly deserted, creating an unusual sense of tranquility.

“Su Su, thank you,” Lan Jingli said, feeling much calmer. She was grateful that Su Su hadn’t pressed her about the origin of the wound.

Shu Su smiled faintly at Lan Jingli. “Then you’ll have to show your gratitude with actions. Treat me to dinner—my choice of time and place.”

“Alright, send me a WeChat message. As long as I’m not working, I’ll keep my promise.”

“Don’t be so formal,” Shu Su said, lowering her head to dab hydrogen peroxide on Lan Jingli’s wrist and wrap it with a thin bandage. “It’s just dinner between friends. Relax, have fun, and lighten up. Take this off when you get home. The wound’s nothing serious—just protection from the rain.”

“Okay, thank you,” Lan Jingli replied, gazing at the neatly bandaged wrist. The discomfort from the ring seemed to fade considerably.

“So,” Shu Su’s heart quickened slightly, “have we not added each other on WeChat yet?”

“Ah, right. We only exchanged phone numbers last time,” Lan Jingli said smoothly, pulling out her phone and displaying her WeChat QR code for Shu Su to scan.

“Li Li isn’t working today. What an adorable WeChat name,” Shu Su said after adding Lan Jingli on WeChat, preparing to start the car. “Where are you living now?”

Lan Jingli gave the address of the company-provided dormitory, causing Shu Su to frown deeply.

“Why are you still living in a place like that? The conditions must be terrible.”

“Actually, it’s not bad at all. There’s running water, electricity, and the rooms are spacious. Plus, it’s rent-free and close to school, which makes it easy for me to get back for classes.”

Remembering Lan Jingli’s previous life in a dilapidated house in a remote mountain village—a place without even electricity at night—Shu Su instantly understood.

“Well, once you become more famous, write more songs, and gain more fans, you’ll be able to afford a much better place.”

“I hope so.”

“Don’t be so modest! You’re already making waves. When your new album drops next month and hits the charts, it’s sure to be a huge success.” Shu Su gripped the steering wheel, started the car, and turned on the car stereo. “You don’t mind if I listen to your music, do you?”

Lan Jingli chuckled. “I do a little, but go ahead.”

The stereo filled the car with a new rock song by Syzygy, the band Lan Jingli and Wei Yixi belonged to. Guitars dominated the track, with drums kicking in during the chorus, perfectly complementing Lan Jingli’s gritty, textured vocals.

“I initially thought you only sang sweet, sentimental songs,” Shu Su said, surprised. “I never expected lyrics so full of defiance, dealing with themes of death and struggle.”

“Yeah, I got hooked on it in college,” Lan Jingli replied, her gaze drifting downward, lost in thought.

Ever since childhood, she had been overly sensitive and prone to pessimism, a trait that alienated others. With no one to confide in or vent her emotions to, she found solace in the raw energy of rock music, channeling her feelings through screaming vocals and guitar riffs—a way to live fully in the face of death.

“What I mean is, you’re like a hidden gem,” Shu Su continued, her smile bright and genuine. “It’s impossible to truly understand you from the surface. I doubt even one percent of your true self is visible.”

Shu Su found Lan Jingli both endearing and difficult to please, a contradictory charm that drew her in, making her want to unravel the mysteries within.

“That’s an exaggeration,” Lan Jingli protested. “I just don’t talk much.”

“You may not talk much, but you seem to have lived a rich life,” Shu Su countered. “I can tell just by looking into your eyes.”

Lan Jingli instinctively touched her eyes. “I’ve never really thought about it that way.”

Life in her small mountain village had been monotonous and dull, day after day spent struggling to attend school and put food on the table.

It was like a perpetually yellowing sheet of paper, devoid of color… except for one: Tan You.

No matter what else happened, she had to acknowledge that.

She had always believed that meeting Tan You had made her bleak first half of life less unbearable.

No, back then, she had thought meeting Tan You was an unbelievably good thing.

But the world doesn’t offer such easy bargains. The more wonderful the past, the more terrible the present becomes in equal measure.

Shu Su parked the Porsche in front of the dormitory building, pulled the handbrake, and turned to Lan Jingli. “From now on, you can finally focus more on yourself. Since this is my first time dropping you off, I won’t come up. Get some rest.”

“Okay, I’ll remember to treat you to dinner…”

“No, I’ve changed my mind. How about you promise me a favor instead? I haven’t decided what it will be yet.”

“That works too, but it won’t be anything too outrageous, right?”

Shu Su smiled slyly. After Lan Jingli got out of the car, she waved and stepped on the gas, driving away. “Guess.”

After a month of grueling company meetings, Shu Su rushed to find Tan You, eager to admire the flowers together.

“I heard many of the flowers in the mountains are in full bloom. Why not host a tea party? A final celebration before you’re no longer single?”

The morning sun pierced through the dim clouds, filtering through layers of towering glass skyscrapers. Golden rays reflected off the glass, streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The light illuminated the city streets and skylines, and it also revealed Tan You’s face, pale from a sleepless night, her eyes dull with indifference.

“I’m not interested.”

“What’s wrong? Did you argue with Wei Xueyin again?”

“No,” Tan You replied coldly, her eyes half-lidded with disdain.

“You’re always so disciplined with your schedule. You never stay up late, let alone skip…” Shu Su glanced at her watch. “It’s past 8:30, and you haven’t had breakfast yet. You even forgot to drink water.”

Shu Su continued her deductions, not expecting any reaction from Tan You. But moments later, the woman lifted her gaze from the documents, her voice slightly hoarse.

“Su Su, if you’re bored, you could review Yunshu Entertainment’s financial reports. There are plenty of documents that need your approval.”

“Could it be because of someone?” Shu Su, completely unafraid of Tan You, began wildly speculating. “Who could possibly catch your eye? I’m telling you, when I like someone, I can’t stop thinking about them. I worry about them, I’m happy for them…”

“Absurd,” Tan You said, processing several urgent work requests while Shu Su chattered on with a beaming smile.

How could I possibly be distracted or confused because of Lan Jingli?

Utterly ridiculous.

Shu Su half-jokingly remarked, “With your power, getting anyone you want should be easy, right? Talent, looks, wealth—you have it all in abundance.”

After a long silence, Tan You finally looked up, her eyebrow arching with a meaningful, icy lift. “Not yet.”

“When? Hey, what do you mean by that? I’m just saying, if you like someone, you should pursue them wholeheartedly, not resort to any shady tactics.”

“I don’t like anyone, and I certainly don’t worry about anyone,” Tan You replied, then activated the intercom to inform her executives to prepare for the next round of project meetings in half an hour.

Shu Su couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman, with her sickly pallor and ghostly beauty, looked anything but carefree.

“You’re going back to work without resting? Do you have to be so driven? Leave some room for others, Youyou. Stop pushing yourself so hard. Give me some time to date!”

Tan You suppressed the throbbing pain that followed her recent sexual craving, her eyes glistening with moisture, her skin as pale as snow, her beauty as haunting as a ghost.

“I’m used to it. You can date after you finish work.”

“But there’s so much work! It’s no fun, Youyou,” Shu Su said, perching on the edge of Tan You’s desk. “I ran into that interesting person again the other day. I even walked her home. Once things progress, I’ll definitely bring her to meet you.”

Because Shu Su rarely entertained romantic thoughts, and Tan You rarely paused her work, she considered the matter for a moment.

“The one you mentioned before?”

“Exactly! But I sense she’s carrying a heavy burden,” Shu Su said, resting her chin in her hand, her lovely face tinged with worry. “As a friend, I can’t pry too much, but it’s driving me crazy. Do you think she might still be willing to confide in me?”

Shu Su had been rambling to herself for ages when she suddenly realized how pointless it was to be talking about this with Tan You.

Tan You was notoriously cold-hearted, detached, and aloof, with an eccentric and indifferent temperament. So many people had been moved to tears by the story of this woman and her “first love,” Wei Xueyin, but Shu Su wasn’t about to fall for such secondhand tales so easily.

“What harm could come from trying?” Tan You uncapped her fountain pen, carefully reviewed the documents, and then signed her name.

With no one else to confide in, Shu Su reluctantly turned to Tan You as a last resort.

“But I’m worried she’ll think I’m overstepping. Youyou, if you liked someone and wanted to be with them, what would you do?”

“I don’t want to be with anyone,” Tan You replied bluntly, but she still offered her advice. “Just ask her politely. At worst, she’ll refuse to tell you. If she does share, then you can open up and take things further.”

“I never thought you’d be giving relationship advice.”

“This isn’t about relationships. It’s basic logic.”

“Alright, I’ll do it your way, you heartless logic monster. I’m going home to rehearse my lines and figure out how to start a conversation,” Shu Su said, hopping off Tan You’s desk with a sweet smile and a determined glint in her eyes. “Youyou, if things work out between us, you have to sit at the head table at the wedding. And when we toast you with our wedding wine, you absolutely have to drink it.”

“I’ll definitely drink your wedding wine.”

“I’m off to pursue my crush! Bye!”

Watching Shu Su skip away cheerfully, Tan You fell into deep thought, repeatedly picking up and putting down her phone. Finally, with a hint of impatience, she opened WeChat and stared at Lan Jingli’s koi avatar.

As if possessed, she tapped into their chat interface, scrolled through her saved emojis, and after a moment’s hesitation, sent one:

The comical “True Love Magic” emoji, sent to Lan Jingli for the very first time.

A dark brown wand twirled dramatically in the air, its tip emitting flashes of silver-blue and golden-red light that gradually coalesced into a shimmering heart.

The next moment, Tan You’s eyes darkened as she saw a red exclamation mark.

[The other party has enabled friend verification. You are not yet their friend…]