I Married My Heartless Ex-Wife’s Black Lotus Sister - Chapter 24

Zheng Yili glanced at the messages on her computer, then at those on her phone, and finally replied to Song Yanqing first: “Later, I’ll come back as soon as I finish my work.”

“Alright.” Song Yanqing’s reply was brief. “We’ll be waiting for you at home.”

Zheng Yili stared fixedly at the woman’s measured words, instinctively wanting to retreat. But if she didn’t show up after Madam Ji returned home, she would inevitably be dragged into a lecture by her later.

Whether she faced it head-on or avoided it, the outcome was the same—better to get it over with sooner rather than later.

With a heavy sigh, Zheng Yili felt an unprecedented exhaustion. She set down her phone and typed another reply to her childhood friend: “Song Qi’an and I have already broken up. It’s her house—she can bring whoever she wants to live there. She has every right to arrange it.”

“But,” her friend persisted, “she knows full well that this was the house you dreamed of living in! Back then, you poured your heart and soul into transforming it from bare concrete walls into what it is now. From the furniture down to every single tile, every corner carries your effort—no, I’m going to confront her about this right now!”

Her friend was furious. “I refuse to believe she can be this heartless!”

Zheng Yili moved her fingers, wanting to stop her, but no matter how many messages she sent, there was no further reply.

She stared blankly at the screenshot of Lin Xiaoxiao’s social media post, and after a long moment, the corners of her lips lifted in a bitter smile. Indeed, the place Lin Xiaoxiao was now living in—arranged by Song Qi’an—was the very house she had once envisioned would become their marital home.

That villa had been purchased quite early, back when Song Qi’an was still in high school.

At the time, their studies were still demanding, so they had temporarily set it aside. After the college entrance exams, Zheng Yili hurried back from her graduation trip and immediately began designing and renovating it.

It was a process that spanned nearly four or five years. She had poured her heart into it, personally selecting every single detail—each piece of furniture, every decoration—things she and Song Qi’an had loved together.

The master bedroom’s 2.3-meter-wide bed, the imported stone-carved bathtub, the pale lace curtains… Eighteen-year-old Zheng Yili would never have imagined that one day, the person occupying this house would be Lin Xiaoxiao, the woman who had come between her and Song Qi’an, now taking over the fruits of her labor.

She sat there for a long time, feeling as though her heart had been wrenched tight. The pain spread rapidly through her entire body, as if tearing her apart from within, leaving her almost breathless.

After a while, Zheng Yili let out a self-deprecating laugh. The faint curve of her lips flattened into a cold, emotionless line, her expression chilling.

Unable to focus on work any longer, she canceled her remaining schedule and left the office with an impassive face.

When she arrived home, the house was dark. In contrast, the neighboring courtyard of Song Yanqing’s residence was brilliantly lit, adorned with vibrant flowers, looking almost like a fairy tale.

The housekeeper appeared at the right moment to inform her of Ji Wushuang’s whereabouts: “Madam is visiting next door at Miss Song’s place.”

Zheng Yili nodded, set down her bag, changed her shoes, and then leisurely made her way to the gate entwined with rose vines. Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her expression and raised her hand with a heavy heart.

The doorbell rang, and Aunt Wang rushed out with a warm, cheerful smile. “Miss Zheng, come in quickly!”

Zheng Yili returned the smile and followed Aunt Wang inside, only to find the dining table already laden with an array of exquisite dishes. Ji Wushuang and Song Yanqing were still busy in the kitchen. Politely declining Aunt Wang’s offer to lead the way, Zheng quietly made her way over on her own.

Today, Song Yanqing was different.

Her jet-black hair cascaded like spilled ink, and even standing with her back to Zheng Yili, she exuded an aura of pristine purity—like a snow lotus atop a distant mountain. Her beauty was breathtaking, effortlessly captivating hearts, as if compelling one to surrender to her allure.

At the moment, she wore only a thin, fitted garment for cooking, which accentuated her graceful curves. Yet, perhaps due to her lifelong frailty, her figure was slender, almost ethereal—like a wisp of smoke that could scatter with the slightest breeze.

Zheng Yili stood silently at the doorway, ghostlike in her stillness. So when Ji Wushuang turned around with a dish in hand, she was startled nearly out of her wits, her heart almost stopping on the spot.

Once the initial shock passed, Ji Wushuang’s eyes widened, and an involuntary flush of irritation rose to her face. “Why are you just standing there without a word?”

Zheng had been too absorbed in watching Song Yanqing to anticipate Ji Wushuang’s sudden turn. Seeing the older woman’s trembling reaction, she couldn’t help but laugh, her lips curling in delight.

Already embarrassed at being caught so flustered in front of Song Yanqing, Ji Wushuang grew even more annoyed at Zheng’s amusement. Without caring whether it was intentional or not, she raised her hand and chased after her.

Zheng quickly dodged, pleading, “Mom, I’m sorry, Mom!”

Her laughter was uncontrollable, her eyes and brows alight with mirth. “I really didn’t mean to scare you—I just wanted to see what you were doing.”

Ji Wushuang wasn’t one to hold grudges. With a huff, she handed Zheng the braised beef brisket she was holding. “Take this over.”

Not daring to refuse her mother’s command, Zheng took the plate and scampered off like a startled foal.

Song Yanqing watched the playful mother-daughter pair with a soft, gentle smile. Ji Wushuang turned back, slightly embarrassed. “She’s always been like this since she was little—a real troublemaker.”

In the past, Song Yanqing hadn’t often been to school and hadn’t interacted much with Zheng Yili, so she didn’t know her well. Still, she nodded along. “A lively, healthy girl is a good thing.”

Ji Wushuang, aware of Song Yanqing’s circumstances, subtly tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, but Song Yanqing deftly intercepted. “I’ve heard Yili used to climb walls and trees without any trouble.”

That was a sore spot for Ji Wushuang—equal parts headache and pride. “She probably takes after me. Never been proper, not like those quiet, well-behaved girls from other families.”

She meant to comfort Song Yanqing. “If only Yili were as gentle and sweet as you.”

What a warm and considerate little darling that would be.

“I actually quite like Yili,” Song Yanqing said with a smile. Zheng Yili, who had just returned from serving dishes, was caught off guard by this unexpected remark, her heart leaping into her throat.

Her entire body tensed up, and the relaxed, carefree smile vanished from her face. Her dark, ink-like eyes fixed intently on Song Yanqing, her breath nearly stopping for a moment.

Song Yanqing, of course, noticed the unease in Zheng Yili’s tense expression. The corners of her lips curled up in amusement as she continued chatting with Ji Wushuang. “She’s lively, cheerful, and full of energy—like a little sun that never runs out of battery.”

Though she often pretended to complain, Ji Wushuang couldn’t help but feel pleased when someone praised her daughter to her face.

Covering her mouth with a light laugh, she replied modestly, “That’s about the only good thing about her.”

Song Yanqing smiled innocently, finally refraining from dropping any more shocking remarks. Zheng Yili’s heart slowly settled back into place.

But given Song Yanqing’s earlier behavior, Zheng Yili couldn’t bring herself to trust her now.

She remained on edge, her whole body on high alert, though she also felt ridiculous for it. Why was she so nervous? It wasn’t as if she and Song Yanqing were secretly carrying on an affair right under Song Qi’an’s nose.

The thought startled her, and she pressed her lips together in silence.

Song Yanqing quietly observed her reaction, wisely avoiding any further incendiary topics. Meanwhile, Ji Wushuang, seeing that the meal was nearly ready, casually asked, “Why didn’t Qi’an come?”

Still unaware of the online rumors, she spoke with the usual concern of a family elder.

Song Yanqing didn’t answer for Zheng Yili, instead tilting her head slightly and watching her in silence. Ji Wushuang followed her gaze, turning to Zheng Yili as well.

Zheng Yili’s scalp prickled with tension. Afraid of being interrogated by her mother, she quickly replied, “She’s been really busy with work lately and couldn’t make time.”

“Too busy for you?” Ji Wushuang frowned disapprovingly. “No matter how busy she is, she should still spare a little time for you.”

“Otherwise, what’s the point of being with her?”

Zheng Yili’s lips twitched. Right—what was the point?

Maybe her relationship with Song Qi’an had always been one-sided. When someone truly liked another person, their expressions and body language couldn’t lie. Perhaps everyone else had already seen Song Qi’an’s indifference—only she had stubbornly clung to her own delusions, refusing to let go of the past, until it cost her everything, even her life.

Her mood plummeted, her smile turning strained. “Alright, Mom, let’s not talk about her. I’m hungry.”

Ji Wushuang sensed something was off, but now wasn’t the time to press further. She quickly handed Zheng Yili a set of chopsticks and a bowl. “Fine, go sit down. It’ll be ready soon.”

Once Zheng Yili was ushered away, Ji Wushuang closed the kitchen’s glass door.

Lowering her voice, she asked Song Yanqing, “Yanqing, be honest with me—have Yili and Qi’an had a falling out?”

Song Yanqing hesitated, looking troubled. “Auntie, it’s not my place to speculate about Yili’s personal matters.”

Ji Wushuang felt a flicker of understanding—she knew pressing further wouldn’t yield anything, so she gave up with a smile and cheerfully carried the dishes out.

Song Qi’an had casually assigned Lin Xiaoxiao a nearby apartment without much thought. So, when she received the scathing call from her childhood friend Feng Ying, she was stunned.

“Song Qi’an, do you even have a conscience? How dare you take Lin Xiaoxiao to live in the marital home you shared with Yi Li? Have you completely forgotten that Yi Li spent four or five years painstakingly decorating that place with nothing but excitement and hope?!”

Feng Ying held nothing back, tearing into Song Qi’an the moment she spoke. Song Qi’an’s breath hitched as the realization slowly dawned on her.

Her face paled momentarily, and her voice dropped low with panic. “Does she know?”

“Of course she does!” Feng Ying snapped. “Your little sweetheart couldn’t wait to take pictures and post them online the moment she moved in. How could Yi Li not find out?!”

Song Qi’an had no retort. Her lips trembled as she mumbled, “I’ll explain it properly to her.”

“Explain? Do you really think your explanations mean anything? Song Qi’an, I’ll ask you one last time—do you still care about Yi Li at all? If you do, why would you let Lin Xiaoxiao provoke her like this? Why hurt her like this? Don’t give me that nonsense about you two just being boss and artist. Do you think I believe that? Do you think anyone watching this mess believes that?”

Feng Ying made no effort to hide her disgust for Lin Xiaoxiao. “Go take a look outside. What kind of boss would let their artist stir up rumors that affect their own marriage?”

“Unless there’s something shady going on between the two of you!”

Her voice was icy, sharp enough to cut through the haze of Song Qi’an’s exhaustion after a long meeting. Song Qi’an stiffened, her expression darkening.

Feng Ying had originally been Song Qi’an’s friend, having grown close after living next door to her. Later, when Zheng Yi Li stubbornly attached herself to Song Qi’an, the two became even closer—closer than Song Qi’an was with either of them individually.

They often went shopping and traveling together, so it wasn’t surprising that Feng Ying would confront Song Qi’an on Yi Li’s behalf.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Song Qi’an replied softly, “I was wrong in this matter. Don’t worry, I’ll make it clear to her.”

Feng Ying had wanted to keep berating her, but the tone of Song Qi’an’s voice told her that her words still hadn’t sunk in.

She suddenly felt exhausted, and her heart ached for Yi Li. Yi Li had everything—family background, looks, a great figure, education, and talent. How could she lose to a scheming, fake-innocent white lotus like Lin Xiaoxiao?

But then again, Song Qi’an was the type to fall for Lin Xiaoxiao’s act.

Furious, Feng Ying clenched her fists and took a deep breath. “Qi’an, what exactly does Yi Li mean to you? You two were—”

“Forget it.” Feng Ying tugged at the corner of her mouth angrily. “Forget it.”

“I’ll shut up.”

“If I keep talking, you’ll probably start resenting me too.”

“Song Qi’an, let me give you one final warning—don’t wait until you’ve completely lost something to feel regret. If you don’t love Yili, then make it clear to her properly. Given her personality and character, I’m certain she wouldn’t cling to you desperately or hinder you from finding someone new.”

“But if you keep arrogantly deceiving Yili, smugly juggling between two women, I can tell you with absolute certainty—you won’t have even the slightest chance of winning her back.”

Song Qi’an was well aware of Zheng Yili’s temperament. She nodded slightly: “I understand.”

The other party’s tone was indifferent, giving no indication whether her warning had truly registered. Feng Ying felt as though her punch had landed on cotton—all that pent-up frustration remained lodged in her chest, leaving her unbearably agitated.

Closing her eyes briefly, Feng Ying ultimately chose not to say more. She decisively ended the call.

Let Song Qi’an weep with regret later.

After Feng Ying revealed the significance of that apartment, Song Qi’an realized the gravity of the situation. Recalling Feng Ying’s words, her entire face darkened. She immediately pulled up Lin Xiaoxiao’s social media feed.

At first glance, it appeared ordinary—just mundane life updates. But those familiar with her could easily deduce her current location from the backgrounds.

Her grip on the phone tightened unconsciously, though her icy expression revealed nothing.

After a long pause, she abruptly stood up and drove straight to the Zheng residence.

Though lights were on in the Zheng household, no one seemed present. After questioning the butler, Song Qi’an took a deep breath, suppressing the coldness in her demeanor as she strode into the courtyard.

The dining room was illuminated, its scene obscured by white gauze curtains.

A faint guilt surfaced as she acknowledged today’s misunderstanding resulted from her own oversight. Yet the moment she stepped inside, an unexpectedly harmonious scene—resembling a happy family of three—struck her like a physical blow. Her expression froze.

No one noticed her arrival, leaving her standing rigidly at the doorway for several seconds.

A suffocating pressure suddenly constricted her chest, followed by an uncontrollable flood of jealousy—overwhelming, all-consuming.