I Married My Heartless Ex-Wife’s Black Lotus Sister - Chapter 12

Song Yanqing had already gotten out of the car and wheeled herself far ahead, yet Song Qi’an still couldn’t figure out what her sister had meant by those words earlier.

Help her? How exactly would Song Yanqing help her?

By personally persuading Zheng Yili to call off the engagement, or by going to great lengths to make Zheng Yili fall for someone else?

Song Qi’an quickened her pace and lazily blocked Song Yanqing’s path. “Sis, you know me—I hate riddles the most.”

“You’ll find out in due time.” Song Yanqing still offered no explanation, merely smiling gently at her. “Now, Mom has been waiting for you for a while. You should go in.”

Song Qi’an studied her for a moment, confirming that her sister wouldn’t budge, before reluctantly turning and entering the house.

Once again, Song Qi’an found herself on the receiving end of a scolding for no good reason. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she faced her furious mother. “Mom, are you done? If you are, I’m going to my room to rest.”

“Don’t you dare walk away!” Madam Song snapped, her anger flaring. “Did you even listen to a single word I just said?”

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear—I don’t care if you’re in love with Lin Xiaoxiao or some Li Xiaoxiao. The only person you’re allowed to marry in this lifetime is Zheng Yili.”

“I won’t accept any daughter-in-law other than Zheng Yili!”

Song Qi’an turned back with a mocking smile. “Whether you accept her or not is your business, Mom.” She shoved her hands into her pockets, exuding an air of careless defiance. “But whether I marry her or not is mine.”

“Though, since you like her so much, maybe you should divorce Dad and marry her yourself.”

Madam Song nearly choked on her rage, her teeth grinding audibly. “Song Qi’an, don’t force me to resort to the family discipline.”

“This is your last chance—fire that Lin Xiaoxiao immediately, kick her out of the company, and personally apologize to Yili.”

“—No.” Song Qi’an refused without hesitation. “Mom, stay out of company affairs.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Otherwise, I won’t hesitate to cut off your allowance.”

“Song Qi’an!” Madam Song shrieked, her composure crumbling.

But Song Qi’an didn’t even glance back. With one hand, she undid the top button of her shirt, loosening the collar, and strolled away with leisurely ease, vanishing from her mother’s sight.

Listening to the commotion inside, Song Yanqing watched with a faint smile, remaining seated in her wheelchair without intervening.

The driver had already pulled the car to the curb. Recognizing the license plate, Zheng Yili pressed a hand to her throbbing temple and slid inside. “Take me straight home.”

The half-open window let in a cool breeze, carrying the fresh scent of grass from the roadside greenery.

Zheng Yili propped her chin on her hand, lost in thought, her mood turbulent.

She had acted impulsively tonight. No matter what, she shouldn’t have hit Song Qi’an. The Song family was at the height of its power, while the Zheng family now consisted only of her and Madam Ji, struggling to hold on—their lineage dwindling.

No… there was also An Xian, that disgraceful mistress, and An Chenglun, that illegitimate son who could never be acknowledged.

At the thought of An Xian, a cold glint flashed in Zheng Yili’s eyes. She had experienced An Xian’s methods firsthand—the woman was honey-tongued but dagger-hearted, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and no easy opponent.

Since the incident at Zheng Huai’s funeral where she caused a scene and was taken away by the police, An Xian had completely vanished. Zheng Yili had a strong premonition that the woman was undoubtedly brewing some major scheme.

Her right eyelid twitched at an inopportune moment, making Zheng Yili’s heart clench. She immediately steeled herself with full alertness.

Checking her phone, she saw the message from Song Lin: An Chenglun had been released and had now disappeared without a trace along with An Xian. No one knew their whereabouts.

Pursing her red lips, Zheng Yili decided to play it safe and had the driver take the car directly into the garage inside the compound.

Everything at home appeared normal, with the butler and housekeeper diligently carrying out their duties. After calling them over to sternly instruct them to be extra vigilant about suspicious individuals around the property in the coming days, Zheng Yili finally went upstairs to freshen up.

After finishing her emails on the computer, she stretched and leaned against the desk, deep in thought. Currently, company affairs were running smoothly and gradually getting on track.

The core team was nearly assembled, and the contracted screenwriters had already begun producing complete scripts. However, the talent scouts still hadn’t found suitable actors for what Zheng Yili wanted.

She had considered poaching from the entertainment industry, but most established names looked down on short-form drama acting. The pay wasn’t particularly high, and for some, taking such roles would be seen as degrading, potentially harming their future prospects. There was also the risk of ridicule from rivals who might seize the opportunity to undermine them and snatch their existing resources.

Given these factors, Zheng Yili’s options were extremely limited.

She mindlessly scrolled through her phone until an industry news headline caught her eye: “Meng Sulan Caught in Bed as Homewrecker in Tianyu CEO’s Marriage—Apprehended by the CEO’s Wife’s Manager…”

The sensational headline piqued her interest, and she clicked on it.

The clear photographic evidence was compelling. Zheng Yili’s attention, however, was drawn to Meng Sulan’s delicate, doll-like face, tear-stained yet restrained in her crying.

Zheng Yili didn’t have much recollection of Meng Sulan. After searching her memory, she concluded that Meng Sulan had likely been blacklisted and vanished from the industry following the scandal.

Many in the entertainment industry resorted to extreme measures for resources. Reading the gossip, Zheng Yili unexpectedly thought of Lin Xiaoxiao.

The mere thought of Lin Xiaoxiao instantly soured her mood. Slapping Song Qi’an today had been too lenient, Zheng Yili mused blankly at the ceiling.

Since Song Qi’an was so biased toward Lin Xiaoxiao, she should have shared that slap too—perfect symmetry.

The next day at noon, Zheng Yili had a business lunch regarding investment in a new variety show. In her previous life, the show hadn’t been well-produced, but its over-the-top drama had frequently landed it on trending lists. Naturally, Zheng Yili intended to get a piece of the action.

After a quick freshening up, she arrived at the upscale private club where the meeting was held. The venue was known for its discretion, frequented by many high-profile figures for dining, drinking, and deal-making.

Pushing open the door to the room, Zheng Yili saw that almost everyone had arrived. Her quick scan of the room revealed that Meng Sulan, the central figure of yesterday’s scandal, was also present.

Meng Sulan wore an expression of suppressed distress, while her manager beside her kept shooting her warning glances laced with veiled threats.

Zheng Yili’s gaze shifted downward. The notorious old lecher Wang Zhiming had his hand resting on Meng Sulan’s thigh, slowly inching upward.

Meng Sulan’s entire body was tense. She wanted to flip the table and resist, but her manager’s oppressive presence kept her frozen in place.

Tears welled in her eyes as a creeping sense of despair took hold.

Zheng Yili couldn’t stand such things. She strode over, pulled Meng Sulan behind her, and smiled sweetly at Wang Zhiming. “Old man, can’t you behave at your age?”

The room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.

Meng Sulan’s manager was the first to react, scrambling to smooth things over—only to be kicked aside by Zheng Yili. “Shut up,” she snapped, her disdain clear. She had no patience for trash who treated their artists as nothing more than bargaining chips.

The manager crashed into several objects before collapsing on the floor, groaning in pain.

By then, Wang Zhiming had recovered. Humiliated in front of everyone by a young woman who had exposed his actions, his face twisted with rage. “Which company do you belong to? Do you have any idea how easily I can ruin your career in this industry?!”

Zheng Yili laughed. After his empty threat, she casually picked up a bottle of red wine from the table and smashed it to pieces.

She picked up the remaining jagged half, holding it firmly as her gaze swept the room. “We can either sit down now and have a proper discussion about the investment.”

“Or,” she continued, flashing an innocent smile, “I can expose everything you just did. What do you think, Director Wang?”

Sacrificing his reputation over an artist wasn’t worth it. Wang Zhiming glared at Zheng Yili before reluctantly sitting back down.

The others quickly intervened, calling for waitstaff to clean up the mess.

Once Zheng Yili had calmly taken her seat, she noticed Meng Sulan still standing behind her, trembling and unsure. Raising a brow, she patted the empty spot beside her with an air of finality. “Sit next to me.”

“Any objections?”

“None at all,” the others hastily agreed. Wang Zhiming didn’t dare speak up.

Meng Sulan bit her lip and nodded obediently, cautiously settling into the seat beside Zheng Yili. “Thank you, Miss Zheng,” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly.

“Don’t mention it. As a fellow woman, it was the least I could do.”

Meng Sulan gazed at Zheng Yili timidly, her eyes filled with nothing but the sight of the woman in her crisp professional attire—sharp, decisive, and effortlessly heroic.

The way Zheng Yili had fearlessly stood up for her was like a searing brand pressed deep into her heart, something she would never forget.

Noticing Meng Sulan’s lingering stare, Zheng Yili assumed she was still uneasy and turned to her again. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, no one will dare lay a finger on you.”

Meng Sulan forced a smile and took a long time to muster the courage to speak. “President Zheng, may I…” She paused, her cheeks flushing red as she continued, “Serve you like an ox or a horse?”