I Married My Heartless Ex-Wife’s Black Lotus Sister - Chapter 42

Song Qi’an had always been reserved and introverted, rarely so straightforward and honest.

Zheng Yili was stunned for a moment before her expression darkened severely. “I think I need to remind you once again, Song Qi’an—we’ve already broken up.”

“You didn’t cherish me when we were together, so what’s with this hypocritical display of affection now? Trying to move yourself?”

Her voice was icy, so cold it seemed to freeze Song Qi’an solid. The indifferent, frost-laced words seeped into her bones. Song Qi’an’s face burned and chilled in turns, her ears ringing until her vision blurred into a blank white haze.

“Lili…” She struggled to part her lips, her bl00d surging violently toward her heart as if countless raging waves were crashing against the regret and anxiety filling her chest.

She felt like a withered leaf, mercilessly tossed atop the waves before being dragged into the suffocating depths of the sea, struggling to breathe.

Song Qi’an’s face was deathly pale, but Zheng Yili watched coldly, unmoved.

Meng Sulan noticed Zheng Yili’s disdain for Song Qi’an. Her gaze flickered between the two before she muttered under her breath, “Spoiled, that’s what it is. Just needs a good ‘whack’ to turn into black sesame paste, then she’ll behave.”

The air instantly thickened, viscous and oppressive.

Meng Sulan belatedly looked up, only to immediately meet Song Qi’an’s murderous glare. She instinctively shrank back, subconsciously edging closer to Zheng Yili as if seeking safety.

Zheng Yili wholeheartedly agreed with Meng Sulan’s remark. Subtly shielding her from Song Qi’an’s sharp gaze, she lowered her head and said, “Go wait for me over there first.”

Meng Sulan wanted to protest, but the moment she met Zheng Yili’s calm eyes, the tangled words on the tip of her tongue silently dissolved. “Okay.”

After watching Meng Sulan retreat to a safe distance, Zheng Yili turned back. “If you have something to say, say it. I don’t have the time or patience to play games with you.”

Her tone was ruthless and detached. Suppressing the bitterness in her chest, Song Qi’an unconsciously sped up her words. “I’m sorry. I know everything was my fault before.”

“I shouldn’t have ignored your feelings and demands, blindly prioritizing my career and work. I shouldn’t have disregarded your emotions, acting recklessly and getting too close to Lin Xiaoxiao, letting her fabricate rumors about us.”

“Lili, I’ve uncovered the truth.” Song Qi’an explained urgently, “From the very beginning, Lin Xiaoxiao approached me with ulterior motives.”

“Both her and my assistant, even my secretary—none of them were normal. They all had hidden agendas.” Afraid Zheng Yili wouldn’t believe her, Song Qi’an quickly pulled out her phone, swiping through the evidence to show her.

Zheng Yili was skeptical, but after seeing the proof presented before her, she fell into deep thought.

She had always been aware of Lin Xiaoxiao’s schemes, but she hadn’t expected that, even in this second life, the hidden roles of the secretary and assistant would still be exposed.

She took Song Qi’an’s phone and carefully examined it.

Black text on white—each incident, marked with precise timestamps, was shocking to behold.

The time these individuals had been lurking around Song Qi’an could be traced back as far as ten years ago—and ten years ago, they were barely in middle or high school.

Zheng Yili finished reading and handed the phone back to Song Qi’an. “So what?”

“You claim they’re all in cahoots, but weren’t they all people you actively sought out yourself?” Zheng Yili sneered at her. “No one forced you back then.”

“Whether you were simply bad at judging character or willingly deceived yourself—you know the answer better than anyone.”

Song Qi’an, who had likely never seen Zheng Yili act so unreasonable, twisting facts and making baseless accusations, flushed crimson. Her lips trembled for a long moment before she finally choked out, “So… you still refuse to forgive me?”

“No.”

Zheng Yili’s tone was resolute. “I will never forgive you.”

“Song Qi’an, the harm you’ve caused me runs far deeper than you could ever imagine.” Each word was enunciated with deliberate weight.

Such merciless words, no matter how hard she tried to ignore them, still cut into her heart like a blade.

Song Qi’an’s lips paled instantly, and her hands dropped limply to her sides. “Do you really have to be like this? Do you really have to draw such a clear line between us, without even giving me a single chance to make amends?”

Zheng Yili found her dejected expression almost laughable. She had initially intended to retort, but looking at Song Qi’an now, she suddenly lost all desire to argue.

Back then, she had begged so pitifully—pleading for Song Qi’an to see her just once, to celebrate her birthday with her just once, even to pull strings to save Ms. Ji. But how had Song Qi’an responded?

“Too busy.”

Those two short, callous words had shattered her hope time and time again—and sealed Ms. Ji’s fate.

With such bl00d-deep hatred, how could Song Qi’an possibly deserve forgiveness?

Zheng Yili stared at Song Qi’an for a long moment, her eyes brimming with resentment and fury, the sharp upturn of her eyes forming a cold, unyielding arc. “You don’t deserve it.”

The last trace of a forced smile vanished from Song Qi’an’s lips. She met Zheng Yili’s gaze—now so unfamiliar—with an unreadable expression, her hands clenching tightly.

The abrupt silence made the air thick and suffocating. Passersby instinctively avoided them, quickening their steps to get away.

Zheng Yili’s brows were sharp, her expression terrifyingly icy, so much so that Song Qi’an couldn’t bear to look at her directly and instinctively turned her face away.

“Qi’an.” Someone called out to Song Qi’an abruptly, her voice calm and measured. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Song Yanqing, dressed in an impeccably tailored evening gown, approached with unhurried grace, as if merely out for a stroll. Zheng Yili glanced up and, spotting Meng Sulan beside her, immediately understood.

That girl must have sensed the situation turning sour and rushed off to call for backup.

Meng Sulan met Zheng Yili’s gaze and grinned foolishly, looking rather pleased with herself.

Under normal circumstances, Song Qi’an would have resented Song Yanqing’s interference. But right now, as she took in Song Yanqing’s tall, understated figure, she inexplicably felt a wave of relief. “I was planning to surprise you,” she lied casually.

Song Yanqing smiled faintly. “A surprise—or a shock?”

Being treated with such disrespect, Song Qi’an’s expression stiffened slightly. Fortunately, Song Yanqing knew when to stop and didn’t press the issue further. “You should go ahead first. They’ve already arrived.”

They? Who? A hint of confusion flashed in Song Qi’an’s eyes, but she received no explanation from Song Yanqing.

Despite this, after a brief hesitation, Song Qi’an fled from Zheng Yili’s presence like a defeated soldier, utterly humiliated.

Zheng Yili watched her leave expressionlessly, not the slightest bit inclined to stop her.

Noticing her bad mood, Song Yanqing asked, “Coming with me?”

“No.” Zheng Yili refused decisively. She’d have to be out of her mind to deliberately parade herself before Song Qi’an and give her another chance to pester her. “Su Lan and I have other matters to attend to.”

Song Yanqing looked regretful. “Alright then. I’ll find you after I’m done here.”

With a nod, Zheng Yili left with Meng Sulan in tow.

After watching them disappear into the distance, Song Yanqing slowly turned back. She strode over to where Song Qi’an stood, head bowed in dejection, and spoke coldly, “Regretting it now?”

“…Yes.” Song Qi’an’s voice was muffled.

“Too late for regrets.” A mocking smile played on Song Yanqing’s lips. “If you’d known this would happen, you shouldn’t have acted that way in the first place.”

Already agitated, Song Qi’an widened her eyes in disbelief. “Sis, not only do you not comfort me, but you also pour oil on the fire and push me when I’m down?”

“Am I wrong?” Song Yanqing’s dark pupils fixed on Song Qi’an like bottomless abysses, flickering with unreadable emotions. “Search your conscience—haven’t I warned you countless times to treat her properly? And what did you do? You trampled on her sincerity over and over, ignored her emotional needs—”

Noticing Song Qi’an’s reddened eyes, as if she might burst into tears any second, Song Yanqing paused briefly.

Her expression remained unmoved, even colder than before. “Maybe it’s for the best. Since you can’t give her happiness, let someone else cherish her properly.”

Song Qi’an wanted to protest, but under Song Yanqing’s piercing gaze, she couldn’t bring herself to voice such selfish words.

With complicated emotions, she met Song Yanqing’s eyes, lips parting slightly. She wanted to ask if Zheng Yili had new suitors, yet it felt like she already knew the answer.

Of course she did.

Who could resist approaching and claiming such a dazzling, vivacious sun after encountering her?

Only someone as despicable as herself would fail to cherish such a treasure, taking it for granted.

The bitter taste in her mouth grew increasingly intense until Song Qi’an completely lost all desire for entertainment. Song Yanqing crossed her arms. “You still haven’t told me why you sneaked into my party.”

“To win her back?”

Though spoken in a neutral tone, Song Qi’an unmistakably detected sarcasm in those words.

She looked up abruptly and couldn’t help saying, “Sis, I feel like you don’t really like me anymore… Have you completely taken her side now?”

Song Yanqing didn’t deny it, only offering a detached piece of advice. “If you want to stay and have fun, do it properly. If not, leave quickly. Stop moping around and ruining everyone’s mood.”

“Mother values the abilities you can demonstrate at the new company. Don’t disappoint her again.”

At the mention of Shen Yun, a flicker of irritation crossed Song Qi’an’s face, vanishing as quickly as it appeared. She remained silent, and Song Yanqing pretended not to notice.

“Alright, do as you please. I won’t keep you company.” With that, Song Yanqing left without another word.

Song Qi’an stood rooted to the spot for a long time, unmoving. Even after receiving two calls from Shen Yun, she still had no intention of leaving. Nowadays, her opportunities to see Zheng Yili were already scarce—of course, she had to cherish every moment.

Even if it was just a distant glimpse, it was enough for her.

Zheng Yili, visibly annoyed, pulled Meng Sulan away from where Song Qi’an stood. Meng Sulan followed, muttering under her breath, “I’ve never seen someone so shameless—not knowing how to cherish what they had when they had it, and now pretending to be all sentimental to win it back…”

Noticing Zheng Yili stop and slowly turn to look at her, Meng Sulan hastily raised her hands in surrender. “Of course, I’m nothing like her.”

“My admiration and affection for you, Boss Zheng, are as clear as the sun and moon, known to heaven and earth—”

“Does Officer Song know you talk like this?” Zheng Yili had no way to deal with her glib tongue, so she brought up Song Lin to shut her up. Sure enough, at the mention of Song Lin, Meng Sulan immediately flushed red and stammered, “Boss Zheng, why bring her up all of a sudden?”

Meng Sulan huffed, hands on her hips. “She has no say over me anyway.”

Seemed like the two of them had been bickering. Zheng Yili scratched her brow in resignation. “Alright, alright, I won’t mention it.” She abruptly changed the subject, pointing to an elegant, intellectual-looking middle-aged woman nearby. “See that woman over there?”

“She just returned from abroad a couple of days ago.” Zheng Yili gestured for Meng Sulan to look. “She’s currently preparing an art film, and I want you to secure a role in it no matter what.”

“Even if it’s just a supporting part.”

Meng Sulan nodded eagerly but then cautiously asked, “Boss Zheng, is she really that impressive?”

“Yes. Though she became a director later in life, her artistic sensibility has always been top-tier. She previously worked as an art designer for multiple award-winning films.”

“However, she immigrated early and has been developing her career overseas until now.”

Meng Sulan’s eyes sparkled with excitement, realizing this was her golden opportunity to rise. Nervously, she pulled out a small mirror to check her appearance. “What should I keep in mind when talking to her?”

“Nothing.” Zheng Yili turned back to her. “Just be yourself. She likes sincere, genuine people.”

The more Zheng Yili said this, the more nervous Meng Sulan became. But under Zheng Yili’s encouraging gaze, she took a deep breath, downed a glass of wine for courage, and straightened her posture with feigned composure. “Boss Zheng, wait for my good news.”

“Alright.” Zheng Yili smiled as she watched her walk away.

In her past life, that director had ultimately chosen Lin Xiaoxiao for the lead role, and Lin Xiaoxiao had gone on to sweep major acting awards, becoming an unstoppable sensation.

With fame and fortune secured, Lin Xiaoxiao’s fanbase grew unshakably massive. As an ordinary person, how could Zheng Yili ever hope to compete with her?

Zheng Yili’s eyes held a smile that was almost innocent yet cruel. She wouldn’t give Lin Xiaoxiao a clean death, easily sending her back to square one. She wanted the other to personally watch as everything that should have been hers, everything she could have possessed, slipped bit by bit through her fingers.

Just like how Lin Xiaoxiao had treated her in the past—a dull knife slowly cutting flesh, the pain unbearable.

As the sun set, Zheng Yili bathed in its glow, her entire figure dyed golden-pink. Her slightly furrowed brows relaxed under the brief warmth, and her already somewhat sharp eyes gradually softened into pools of gentle water.

Suddenly, she recalled the events of her past life.

The turning point of her entire fate—it all seemed to trace back to the death of her father, Zheng Huai. His sudden passing left many matters unarranged.

While Zheng Yili was still drowning in grief over losing her father, An Xian led An Chenglun straight into their home, delivering the most fatal blow to Zheng Yili.

In her heart, Zheng Huai had been refined and family-oriented. Whether traveling for work or drinking with friends, he would always thoughtfully prepare gifts for his wife and daughter.

Who could have imagined that such a seemingly honest and dutiful man had been keeping a mistress all these years, even fathering a love child nearly as old as herself?

The moment she saw An Chenglun, Zheng Yili felt her world collapse instantly.

Devastated, and further tormented by the rumors between Lin Xiaoxiao and Song Qi’an, she spent a long period in a daze, numb and unfeeling.

How had she gotten through it back then?

Zheng Yili swirled the wine glass in her hand. It was Song Yanqing who had accompanied her day after day, patiently guiding her. No matter how foul Zheng Yili’s mood or how volatile her temper, Song Yanqing never left her side, always finding new ways to cheer her up.

That already felt like a distant memory—so distant that touching it now made it seem gray and dusty, tangled with cobwebs.

Had Song Yanqing harbored these feelings for her since so long ago?

Zheng Yili realized belatedly.

Yet apart from gentle companionship and guidance, Song Yanqing had never crossed any lines before.

At least not before Zheng Yili’s rebirth.

The swirling wine glass suddenly stilled. Gazing at the orange-hued sunset in the distance, Zheng Yili couldn’t suppress a bold thought rising in her heart: Could the other woman have… also been reborn like her?

The idea was so horrifying that a thin layer of cold sweat instantly broke out across her body.

A cool sea breeze blew past, making her shiver involuntarily.

The next second, a lightly fleeced blanket draped perfectly over her shoulders. Zheng Yili turned to see Song Yanqing’s face, unusually tender and affectionate at this moment.

“Don’t catch a cold.” The woman’s voice was pleasant, half carried away by the evening breeze, leaving behind an inexplicably magnetic allure.

Zheng Yili instinctively gathered the warm garment around her shoulders, staring intently at the other woman as if searching for any trace of evidence to confirm her suspicion.

Yet Song Yanqing remained her usual composed self, only turning slightly puzzled eyes toward Zheng Yili after being stared at for so long. “Do I look especially good today?”

Zheng Yili let out a puzzled sound.

Song Yanqing smiled. “You’ve never looked at me like this before. And…” She paused before continuing, “Your gaze has never lingered on me for so long.”

“Back then, you always had eyes only for Qi An.”

“Sometimes I wonder—what exactly did you like about her? Her icy demeanor? Or that flawlessly exquisite face of hers?”

Song Yanqing’s eyes shimmered. “Take a closer look at me. I’m not inferior to her in any way.”

Though her tone was gentle, the faintly upturned corners of her eyes carried an undeniable aggression. Zheng Yili instinctively took a step back, trying to appear composed. “I don’t like her anymore.”

“Right.” Song Yanqing nodded as if suddenly realizing something. “In that case… could you try liking me instead?”

“Even just a little.”

Her voice carried a hint of vulnerability and pleading, almost like a prayer. Zheng Yili’s heart pounded faster, as if it might leap out of her throat. She had to steady her breathing to calm herself. “Yanqing, I—”

The elegant face suddenly drew closer, closing the distance between them.

A wave of intense tension surged through Zheng Yili’s chest, and she swallowed hard, her gaze flickering with distraction.

“Don’t reject me just yet, alright?” Song Yanqing murmured, her voice so soft it seemed it might scatter with the slightest breeze.

Zheng Yili’s mind buzzed. Even though she had braced herself, she still froze, utterly disoriented.

The ties between her and Song Yanqing had grown far too entangled. The newly announced collaboration between their two companies, the long-standing friendship between the Song and Zheng families, the dormitory sisterhood between Madam Ji and Aunt Daxi…

Suddenly, realization struck. Zheng Yili widened her eyes in disbelief. “You did this on purpose?”

Had she deliberately used benefits Zheng Yili couldn’t refuse to lure her in, ensuring she couldn’t avoid her or turn hostile—only to then—

“No.” Song Yanqing could see her thoughts spiraling into paranoia. A trace of helplessness crossed her face. “I genuinely wanted to give you these opportunities.”

“You know, given my health… how much longer I can even live is uncertain. Money has long ceased to mean anything to me.”

“I just don’t want to leave with regrets.”

A faint smile touched her lips. “So I thought… I should be a little braver.”

Her explanation sounded reasonable, yet Zheng Yili couldn’t shake the feeling something was off. She studied Song Yanqing’s face—so breathtakingly beautiful under the sunset—and found herself softening despite herself.

“Don’t talk like that,” she chided with a frown. “Medical science is advanced now. I refuse to believe no one can cure you.”

Song Yanqing didn’t respond, but a quiet sorrow flickered in her eyes.

Zheng Yili’s heart clenched. Uncontrollable thoughts raced through her mind—could it be true? Did she really… only have a few years left?

Her heart suddenly fluttered with unease, and Zheng Yili couldn’t quite describe the unfamiliar sensation rising in her throat. Gently nudging Song Yanqing, she tried to appear domineering as she asked, “You say you like me, but what exactly do you like about me?”

“It couldn’t just be because I’m good-looking, and you’re attracted by my appearance, right…”

“Everything. All of you,” came the immediate reply.

Zheng Yili froze.

Song Yanqing continued, “Your tearful vulnerability that tugs at the heartstrings, your radiant joy when happiness lights up your face, your fierce claws when anger takes hold, and your furrowed brows when lost in self-pity.”

“Every frown, every smile—they haunt my dreams.”

“I’ve imagined countless times—if only I’d been braver as a child, if only I’d persisted a little more—would I have been the one holding you close under the covers—”