I Married My Heartless Ex-Wife’s Black Lotus Sister - Chapter 25

“Qi’an?” Among the three, Song Yanqing was the first to notice Song Qi’an standing stiffly at the door with an unpleasant expression.

A faint smile flickered across the woman’s lips, vanishing almost instantly. “Why don’t you come in since you’re already here?” she feigned enthusiasm, rising quickly to instruct Wang Ma to set an extra place. “Have you eaten? Come join us for a meal.”

Song Yanqing’s voice was soft and gentle, devoid of any noticeable strange emotions. In fact, her excessive thoughtfulness and care made her appear radiant and impeccable.

Yet, the more she acted this way, the darker Song Qi’an’s expression became.

Her demeanor made it seem as though she were the lady of the house in this family of three, while Song Qi’an was the outsider.

Zheng Yili was thoroughly enjoying her meal. Ji Wushuang’s cooking was excellent, but Song Yanqing had exceeded her expectations—her culinary skills were even more tantalizing, making one’s stomach growl with desire.

She was eating heartily, feeling as though the haze in her heart was lifting slightly in the face of such delicious food.

But this pleasant mood didn’t last long. The moment Song Yanqing uttered “Qi’an,” Zheng Yili’s joy instantly cooled. Her chopsticks paused mid-air, and the faint smile on her face froze in place.

Song Qi’an glanced at Song Yanqing before fixing her gaze firmly on Zheng Yili, refusing to look away.

She had expected Zheng Yili to leap up from her seat and rush toward her excitedly, just like before. To her disappointment, however, Zheng Yili deliberately ignored her, and Ji Wushuang frowned with displeasure—both of them were far colder than before, their attitudes worlds apart from what they used to be.

Song Qi’an’s eyes darkened like frost on roof tiles, chilling to the bone.

She instinctively wanted to turn and leave, but under Song Yanqing’s expectant and warm gaze, her legs felt rooted to the spot, unable to move.

Just then, Wang Ma came out with a fresh set of tableware. After placing it on the table, she approached Song Qi’an and tugged at her sleeve. “Qi’an, come sit down already!”

“You should’ve given us a heads-up before coming,” Wang Ma remarked casually, then glanced at Song Yanqing, as if sensing the awkward tension in the air.

Song Yanqing showed no outward reaction, pulling out the chair beside her to signal for Song Qi’an to sit.

Song Qi’an pressed her lips into a thin line, unable to resist stealing a glance at Zheng Yili’s expression. Zheng Yili had her back turned, but her hand trembled slightly as she picked up food before continuing to eat as if nothing had happened.

Fine. Today was her fault, after all.

Song Qi’an closed her eyes briefly, changed her shoes at the entrance, and strode over with her long, slender legs.

As the tall figure in a tailored suit and trousers took a seat directly across from her, Zheng Yili’s breathing hitched slightly. Her fingers tightened around her chopsticks involuntarily, her knuckles turning white and veins faintly visible.

Zheng Yili wanted to curse inwardly. What was she doing here, ruining the mood?

After all, they had already broken up, and they barely interacted these days. Ignoring her was perfectly reasonable.

She had thought everything was fine—until Song Qi’an, for some inexplicable reason, suddenly pulled out a jewelry box from under the table and pushed it squarely in front of Zheng Yili, stating succinctly, “A gift.”

Zheng Yili’s eye twitched. Her tone was icy. “No need. Take it back.”

She glanced at it and said, “I don’t need these things.”

Song Qi’an’s eyes were deep and unfathomable, like a bottomless abyss.

Though she had anticipated this outcome, being so bluntly rejected in front of Ji Wushuang and Song Yanqing still made her expression darken. “Take it,” she insisted.

Song Qi’an remained firm. “What happened today was my fault. I’ll explain it to you later.”

Zheng Yili frowned at her, her tone growing impatient. “I said no.”

“I don’t need your gifts, nor do I need your explanations.”

The atmosphere froze completely, so silent you could hear a pin drop. Ji Wushuang looked back and forth between Zheng Yili, Song Qi’an, and Song Yanqing in confusion. “?”

What was going on?

Ji Wushuang was utterly bewildered, while Song Yanqing lowered her head with a faint smile before lifting it again, smoothing away any excess emotion from her expression. “Alright, let’s eat first. Even though it’s hot, the food will get cold if we wait any longer.”

With that, she brazenly reached over and placed a mantis shrimp on Song Qi’an’s plate. “Qi’an, isn’t this your favorite? We made plenty today, so eat as much as you like.”

Her face was the picture of innocence, and after scrutinizing her for a long moment without detecting anything amiss, Song Qi’an nodded and picked up her chopsticks to eat.

Zheng Yili glanced at Song Yanqing’s actions, her mood complicated. It was hard not to suspect she was doing this on purpose.

A couple of days ago, the woman had openly served her plenty of food too—likely a subtle jab at her for failing to see the truth and still clinging stubbornly to the past.

She exhaled slowly, chewing on the beef with cilantro as if Song Qi’an didn’t exist.

The air in the room was stifling, and Ji Wushuang found it unbearably awkward. Since she still didn’t know the reason for her daughter’s tension with Song Qi’an, she casually asked after her as usual.

Song Qi’an behaved obediently in front of Ji Wushuang, answering every question and even volunteering updates about herself—the picture of thoughtfulness and maturity.

But Zheng Yili could only roll her eyes inwardly. Hypocrite. Sanctimonious act.

While mentally cursing Song Qi’an, she reached for the ladle to serve herself some soup. Distracted, her fingers accidentally brushed against Song Yanqing’s—soft, delicate, and slightly cool.

Startled, Zheng Yili reflexively looked up, her gaze landing on the spot where their skin had touched.

Coincidentally, Song Yanqing also turned to her in surprise. The moment their eyes met, Zheng Yili felt as if her fingers had been scalded, yanking them back instantly as heat rushed through her body.

Song Yanqing, however, remained perfectly composed, her smile as gentle as ever. “Let me serve you.”

Her tone betrayed nothing as she stood, picked up Zheng Yili’s bowl, carefully ladled half a portion, and set it down gently. “There’s more if you want.”

Zheng Yili’s face burned. Gripping her slippers with her toes, she nodded hastily and muttered, “Got it.”

Using the motion of drinking soup, she let her dark hair fall forward, hiding her flustered expression. Ji Wushuang glanced between her, Song Yanqing, and Song Qi’an again, sensing something inexplicably odd.

But this wasn’t the place to pry, so she merely observed quietly before letting the matter drop.

Song Qi’an’s brows were furrowed so tightly they could have crushed a fly unnoticed.

As perceptive as she was, how could she not sense the strange undercurrents between the two? Yet even if she racked her brains, she would never have imagined that her gentle, kind, and unassuming elder sister would take advantage of the situation and confess to Zheng Yili so soon after he had broken up with her.

Even though Zheng Yili hadn’t agreed, such blatant poaching could almost be deemed outright ill-intentioned.

The meal thus ended in tasteless silence.

After setting down his chopsticks, Zheng Yili offered a few perfunctory words of thanks to Song Yanqing before hastily fleeing, his retreating figure a picture of flustered disarray.

Song Yanqing smiled, her very brows tinged with delight and affection.

Song Qi’an had intended to chase after him, but just then, Ji Wushuang stood up. “Thank you for your hospitality today, Yanqing. I’m exhausted from the journey, so I won’t disturb you any further tonight.”

“See you tomorrow.”

There was no way Ji Wushuang would let Song Qi’an continue pestering her daughter. Eager to get to the bottom of things, she unceremoniously intercepted Song Qi’an, hinting that it was already late and not the time for uninvited visits.

Understanding the implication, Song Qi’an reluctantly halted and politely saw Ji Wushuang out of the courtyard.

Once everyone had left, Song Qi’an stood motionless before a wall of blooming flowers, her thoughts inscrutable.

The moment they returned home, Ji Wushuang called her daughter aside and hesitantly asked, “What’s going on between you and Qi’an? I noticed something off between you earlier.”

Ji Wushuang was direct, and Zheng Yili saw no reason to hide it. “We broke up.”

She watched her mother, expecting anger or accusations of being unreasonable and failing to make amends. Instead, Ji Wushuang merely blinked before her face lit up with unmistakable joy. “Good! Splendid news!”

Ji Wushuang’s eyes sparkled, and Zheng Yili immediately felt a pang of foreboding.

“Don’t be sad, darling. I’ll start looking for someone new right away,” she said cheerfully, clasping Zheng Yili’s hands. “Men, women, non-binary—just write down your criteria, and I’ll find candidates who meet every single one.”

Zheng Yili’s brow twitched in bewilderment. “Aren’t you going to ask why we broke up?”

“Why bother? As long as my precious is happy. You know better than anyone—aside from forcing you to train in martial arts, have I ever controlled or pressured you in your life?”

“Besides, Song Qi’an barely showed her face when your father passed away. I don’t know what issues you two had, but she’s clearly a cold-hearted, ungrateful person.”

Cold-hearted and ungrateful? Zheng Yili smirked. That wasn’t the case with Lin Xiaoxiao.

In her past life, Song Qi’an had been nothing short of devoted and unwavering in her affections.

Noticing the sardonic curl of her daughter’s lips, Ji Wushuang realized the rift between them ran deep. She added lightly, “And after all these years of knowing each other, even an iceberg would have melted by now.”

So, in truth, everyone around her could see it clearly—Song Qi’an had never truly cared for her. Only she herself had remained trapped in the fantasy she’d woven, stubbornly refusing to wake up.

Zheng Yili felt a pang of sorrow in her heart, but quickly suppressed it. “I think so too.”

“Perhaps it’s for the best that it’s over now. With Dad gone and the company keeping me so busy, I barely have any time to spare.” She linked arms with Ji Wushuang, adopting a rare, coquettish demeanor. “In this world, I suppose nothing is more reliable than money and power.”

Naturally, Ji Wushuang was delighted to see her daughter so enlightened. She gently stroked Zheng Yili’s cheek and smiled. “Enough about others. Come! Let me show you the gift I carefully picked out for you.”

“Your birthday is coming up soon. You must dress beautifully and dazzle all the other girls.”

The mere thought of her daughter being surrounded by adoring beauties filled Ji Wushuang with joy. “This time, you must choose carefully—someone good-looking, kind to you, and from a decent family…”

“Mom, if you put it that way, the pool of suitable candidates will be very small.”

“No rush,” Ji Wushuang said cheerfully. “You’re still young. The most important thing in a relationship is happiness. If someone pleases you, date them. If they stop pleasing you, just kick them to the curb.”

“My daughter is exceptional in every way, so of course she deserves the best.”

Zheng Yili was thoroughly charmed and, like a proud little rooster, lifted her chin with childish arrogance. “Naturally. With such an outstanding mother, how could I be anything less?”

The Zheng household was filled with warmth and harmony, but the atmosphere in Song Yanqing’s house next door was quite different.

Aunt Wang had already cleaned the dishes and retired to her room. In the spacious living room, Song Yanqing and Song Qi’an sat quietly on the sofa, enveloped in silence.

Song Qi’an was in a foul mood, not just because of Zheng Yili’s attitude that evening, but also because of her own careless mistake, which had left no room for redemption or remedy.

Lin Xiaoxiao, a disabled patient, had only just moved in for some peace and quiet. How could she possibly turn around and kick her out again so soon?

It wouldn’t be good for her recovery or her condition.

Song Yanqing knew exactly why Song Qi’an was sulking in front of her. She took a slow sip of her freshly brewed tea. “Regretting it now?”

Instead of answering, Song Qi’an asked, “You know about it?”

Seeing that Song Yanqing merely glanced at her without responding, she pondered for a moment before suddenly straightening up. “Did Feng Ying blab about it everywhere?”

Song Yanqing found this amusing. She set down her teacup with an inscrutable expression. “Did you really think no one would find out just because Feng Ying kept quiet?”

“The moment you brought Lin Xiaoxiao into your circle, you should have been prepared for this, shouldn’t you?” Song Yanqing tapped the armrest with her slender fingers. “Go ask her yourself—which of your friends hasn’t she added as a contact?”

“Let me make an even bolder guess.” A cold, cruel smile played at the corners of Song Yanqing’s lips. “Perhaps she’s already added Yili as well.”

At these words, Song Qi’an’s face paled, and her fists clenched involuntarily.

Song Yanqing’s words carried a soul-piercing coldness, sending waves of uncontrollable fear and panic crashing into the depths of Song Qi’an’s heart. It was as if she had suddenly been thrown into icy waters, her entire body wracked with piercing pain.

Song Yanqing watched coldly, showing no intention of offering comfort.

“It wasn’t intentional,” Song Qi’an finally defended after a long silence. “I just hadn’t been to that house in so long that I forgot about it.”

There was some excuse-making in her words too—it was the only way to ease her conscience.

Song Yanqing’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, casting shadows across her pale face. She gazed at Song Qi’an quietly before sighing as if resigned. “At this point, whether you explain or not doesn’t really matter anymore.”

Feeling the questioning look directed at her, Song Yanqing smiled faintly. “You’ve always been cold and distant toward her anyway. Wouldn’t this be the perfect opportunity for you to end things completely?”

Song Qi’an frowned, but Song Yanqing pressed on regardless: “Do you really want to stubbornly continue until you both become bitter enemies, only satisfied when you’ve reached that point?”

“Qi’an, as your sister, I’ve rarely interfered in your life. But this time,” Song Yanqing paused, her cool voice laced with persuasion, “I hope you’ll seriously consider what I’m saying.”

“You two aren’t suited for each other.”

“Yili has a strong personality and is very independent. Now that her father has passed, the entire burden and responsibility of the Zheng family must have fallen on her shoulders. The same goes for you.”

“You’re usually busy managing the company, with a packed schedule and late-night business dinners. Think about it—wouldn’t that mean even fewer chances to see each other, making conflicts and arguments more likely?”

Song Yanqing continued coaxing, “Not to mention, Ding Rui and Xing Yue are practically rivals now.”

“Setting everything else aside, just take the recent situation with Meng Sulan and Lin Xiaoxiao. You favored Lin Xiaoxiao, while she defended Meng Sulan. Neither of you would back down, arguing until you were red in the face—and this is only the beginning, just one small incident among many more to come.”

Song Qi’an instinctively wanted to deny favoring Lin Xiaoxiao, but she fell silent upon hearing the rest of Song Yanqing’s words.

What the other said wasn’t wrong. If they continued stubbornly, countless more conflicts would likely erupt until their feelings were completely exhausted, leaving them estranged for life.

Song Qi’an understood this logic, yet she couldn’t help looking up hesitantly to ask, “Is that really how it is?”

“Of course,” Song Yanqing replied with a bright smile. “If you cut your losses now, you might still be able to remain friends, sitting down calmly for tea or a meal together later.”

“On the other hand, if you persist, after countless arguments over Lin Xiaoxiao, you’ll probably find even looking at each other irritating.”

“Don’t you think?”