I Married My Heartless Ex-Wife’s Black Lotus Sister - Chapter 1

The hospital at midnight was steeped in a deathly silence, with occasional chilly winds seeping through the slightly ajar doors and windows.

Zheng Yili held her phone with misty eyes, her thoughts drifting far away.

Song Qi’an’s love… burned her heart and choked her throat.

Zheng Yili rarely regretted her choices. She had always been direct and passionate, following her heart without hesitation or fear.

Perhaps that was precisely why Song Qi’an felt so secure in taking her for granted, hurting her without restraint.

On the screen, the intimate photo of Song Qi’an and Lin Xiaoxiao had blurred beyond recognition. Yet, during her years in the hospital, she had revisited the rumors about them countless times, etching their images deep into her heart.

Their lingering gazes… the tenderness that inadvertently flickered in Song Qi’an’s brows, Lin Xiaoxiao’s shy, sweet, and faint smile.

Each frame was like a sharp knife, stabbing mercilessly into her heart.

Zheng Yili smiled faintly, her vision hazy. Who even remembered now that she was Song Qi’an’s legally wedded wife?

She and Song Qi’an had grown up together—from kindergarten to elementary school, middle school, high school, and then university. After graduation, their bond had spanned over twenty years. Yet, it still couldn’t compare to Lin Xiaoxiao, an outsider who had only known him for a few months.

In Zheng Yili’s eyes, since she and Song Qi’an were married, Lin Xiaoxiao was undeniably the shameless homewrecker who had intruded upon her relationship.

But the outside world didn’t see it that way—especially Lin Xiaoxiao’s fans.

To them, Song Qi’an and Lin Xiaoxiao were a match made in heaven, the perfect golden couple, while Zheng Yili was nothing but a disgraceful obstacle, stubbornly standing in the way of their destined love.

One was the most powerful figure in Shanghai, the other a rising star in the entertainment industry. By any measure, they were a flawless pair.

In contrast, how could Zheng Yili—a frail, emaciated woman who had spent years wasting away in a hospital—possibly compete?

Her once fair, snow-like beauty had long been eroded by illness, leaving behind only a lifeless pallor that repelled even the most sympathetic gazes.

Lying on her side in the hospital bed, Zheng Yili let her tears fall in heavy drops onto the pristine white pillow.

Perhaps Song Qi’an truly didn’t love her. Otherwise, how could he remain indifferent to the malicious rumors spread by the media, never once stepping forward to clarify or defend her?

While he showered Lin Xiaoxiao with warmth and affection, Zheng Yili had been silently begging for even a sliver of that radiant moonlight to grace her with its tenderness.

But in the end, it had all been nothing more than her own futile longing.

Song Qi’an’s tenderness had never been meant for her.

Tears blurred her lashes, turning the world around her into a hazy dream. The IV fluid dripped slowly into her veins, sending sharp, throbbing pain through her nerves.

When had she become like this?

It must have been years ago, on a stormy night when rumors of Song Qi’an and Lin Xiaoxiao first surfaced. Furious after seeing the news online, Zheng Yili had rushed to confront him—only to be met with a closed door.

Never one to back down, she had stubbornly waited outside in the pouring rain all night.

The next day, though she managed to see Song Qi’an, she immediately fell unconscious and was rushed to the hospital by ambulance. Compounding this was her father’s sudden passing, followed by his mistress boldly bringing their illegitimate child to fight for inheritance. Zheng Yili was forced into the mess her father left behind and had to push through her illness to leave the hospital.

The battle with the illegitimate child was a prolonged war. By the time Zheng Yili successfully reclaimed her father’s company, she had already developed chronic health issues from navigating endless social engagements.

From then on, she became a frequent visitor to the hospital.

Her weakened body, deteriorating mental state, and the daily struggle to keep up with work left her exhausted. By the time she finally caught her breath, she and Song Qi’an had already grown distant.

Worse still, during all her hospital stays, Song Qi’an never once came to see her.

So she should have realized it long ago, shouldn’t she?

A cold-hearted person would remain unmoved even if you tore your own heart out for them to see.

Yet she couldn’t accept it—couldn’t accept how her life had gone so wrong, couldn’t accept that everything she had given was now flowing away like water.

A buzz from her phone snapped Zheng Yili back to reality.

Her dark eyes lowered, blinking slowly before she could make out the notification on the screen.

…Song Qi’an and Lin Xiaoxiao had made their relationship official.

The neat, square characters looked rigid and serious, yet they seemed to mock her endlessly, tearing her weary, fragile heart apart piece by piece, leaving it bloody and raw.

Zheng Yili clenched her teeth and, like someone refusing to admit defeat until the bitter end, dialed Song Qi’an’s number.

She expected it to be hung up, as it had been countless times before. But to her surprise, the call connected after just two rings. “Hello,” came Song Qi’an’s lazy, slightly amused voice in her ear.

Familiar yet distant, as if from another lifetime.

“It’s me,” Zheng Yili forced out softly, her lips barely moving.

She had imagined that when they finally spoke again, they would at least argue fiercely. But now, with her pale fingers gripping the phone, her heart was eerily calm.

She didn’t even have the slightest urge to confront her.

“Can you come to the hospital to see me? It’s been so long since you last visited,” Zheng Yili said, her voice laced with barely perceptible tension.

“Sorry, no.” The woman’s tone was as cold as ever—colder than a stone in winter.

Zheng Yili felt her chest tighten, struggling to breathe.

“Just for a moment… is that really too much to ask?” she asked lightly, as if it didn’t matter.

“No.” Song Qi’an didn’t hesitate. “Xiaoxiao and I just made our relationship official. I don’t want her to misunderstand.”

Even though she had braced herself for this, hearing Song Qi’an’s response still left a bitter taste in Zheng Yili’s mouth.

She couldn’t help raising her voice. “You’re with her now? Then what about me? What am I to you? What does our marriage even mean?”

“Song Qi’an, just what do you take me for—”

“If you called just to argue about this, then I don’t think we have anything left to say.” After a pause, Song Qi’an added, “As for us… give me some time. I’ll figure something out.”

“Find a way to resolve this?” A mocking smile curled at the corners of Zheng Yili’s lips. “How exactly do you plan to resolve it?”

“Will you repeat your old tricks—using my mother to threaten me into silence about our marriage, forcing me to bear the disgrace of being labeled a homewrecker in Lin Xiaoxiao’s place? Or will you simply divorce me to sever all ties so you can chase after your beloved?” Zheng Yili clenched her fingers tightly, her voice hoarse with suppressed emotion.

Her sharpness made Song Qi’an frown in displeasure.

“If you insist on thinking that way, then I have nothing more to say.”

Hah. Nothing more to say.

Zheng Yili suddenly laughed—a brittle, broken sound.

She gripped her phone until her knuckles turned white, until Lin Xiaoxiao’s familiar voice drifted through the receiver: “What’s wrong, Qi’an? It’s time to make my birthday wish… Whose call is that?”

“No one. I’m hanging up now.” Song Qi’an’s voice softened with unmistakable tenderness.

Without giving Zheng Yili another chance to speak, he unilaterally ended the call and powered off his phone—as if terrified she might cling to him and ruin his precious moment celebrating his darling’s birthday.

Silence engulfed her.

In that moment, Zheng Yili’s heart turned to ashes.

Wasn’t today her birthday too?

She remembered the years before Lin Xiaoxiao, when Song Qi’an would spend this day with her, carefully preparing gifts. But after Lin Xiaoxiao appeared, Zheng Yili had been left with nothing.

Her birthdays no longer mattered to him. The surprises he once secretly arranged for her had vanished.

She’d become like an abandoned puppy, groveling pathetically day after day, begging for scraps of affection from the woman who’d transferred her love elsewhere.

The needle-like pain along her nerves grew sharper, more unbearable. The color had drained completely from Zheng Yili’s skin. Her unfocused eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, burning with unshed tears.

Two or three hours later, she blinked slowly, her gaze shifting to the IV needle embedded in her hand.

It hurt. Everything hurt.

She couldn’t endure this anymore—couldn’t face the betrayal and abandonment. Couldn’t spend the rest of her life trapped in this sterile room reeking of disinfectant.

Her time was running out anyway.

A frail smile touched Zheng Yili’s bloodless lips. Better to end this now than let Song Qi’an and Lin Xiaoxiao keep trampling over her.

She closed her eyes.

Then yanked out the IV needle with brutal finality.

By 8 a.m., news of Xingyue Entertainment’s CEO Zheng Yili’s death had quietly overtaken yesterday’s headlines about rising star Lin Xiaoxiao’s relationship, dominating every major news portal.

In the comments, Lin Xiaoxiao’s fans cheered and applauded, celebrating their idol’s liberation from the “annoying third wheel.”

When Song Qi’an was jolted awake by a phone call, irritation flickered through her—until the words registered. Her bl00d turned to ice. “What did you say?”

After the caller repeated themselves, Song Qi’an bolted upright, scrambling for clothes.

A slender arm caught her wrist. Lin Xiaoxiao gazed up sleepily. “Qi’an? What’s wrong?”

“Zheng Yili is dead.” Though frantic, Song Qi’an forced herself to explain calmly. “I need to go to the hospital immediately to handle her arrangements.”

“But you promised yesterday you’d attend the RW event with me today…” Lin Xiaoxiao’s voice grew softer until it faded completely.

“It’s alright, Qi’an. You should go take care of her funeral arrangements first.” Lin Xiaoxiao forced a brave smile. “I can manage alone.”

Reminded by Lin Xiaoxiao, Song Qi’an snapped back to reality. Knowing Lin Xiaoxiao had conflicts with RW’s director, he’d originally agreed to accompany her to prevent her from being bullied.

After a brief silence, Song Qi’an pulled Lin Xiaoxiao into an embrace. “Alright, I’ll go to the event with you today.”

“But Director Zheng…”

“I’ll have my sister handle it.” Saying this, Song Qi’an dialed Song Yanqing’s number. After explaining the situation briefly, he said, “Sis, I need your help with this.”

Song Yanqing frowned disapprovingly upon hearing this. “Qi’an, Zheng Yili was still your wife in name—”

“Just consider this the last favor I ask of you,” Song Qi’an massaged his temples wearily. “After this, I won’t trouble you again.”

Not that there would be any more opportunities—with her gone now, there was nothing left to handle.

Receiving no response, Song Qi’an hung up after a few quick words. Song Yanqing set down her phone, staring blankly at the news report about Zheng Yili’s suicide on TV. After a long while, she sighed softly—a sigh full of regret and sorrow.