I Married My Heartless Ex-Wife’s Black Lotus Sister - Chapter 7

Zheng Yili thought that as Song Qi’an’s younger sister, she should at least have some idea of Song Yanqing’s whereabouts.

But when her words fell, Song Qi’an remained silent for a long time.

Song Qi’an’s eyes, which could make even a dog feel adored, stared unblinkingly at Zheng Yili, as if trying to bore holes through her.

It seemed she didn’t know. Observing her expression, Zheng Yili had her answer.

Never mind, there probably wasn’t anything to worry about. Song Yanqing was surrounded by bodyguards—even if she encountered danger, she’d be well protected.

Lost in thought, Zheng Yili didn’t notice the slow darkening of Song Qi’an’s expression.

But even if she had, she wouldn’t have cared much.

She had already made up her mind to completely sever ties with Song Qi’an, so now, none of Song Qi’an’s emotions—joy, anger, sorrow—had anything to do with her.

“You care about her that much?”

Song Qi’an’s voice, calm yet laced with simmering anger, came from behind. Zheng Yili paused, a faint smile appearing on her face. “Of course.”

“In the days after my father passed, she put aside her own affairs to help me with everything, patiently comforting me in my grief.” Zheng Yili took a breath. “So why shouldn’t I care about her?”

“You’re still resentful toward me.” Song Qi’an felt a surge of irritation and instinctively reached for a cigarette. But the moment she moved, the image of Lin Xiaoxiao gently telling her smoking was bad flashed in her mind, and she stiffly stopped.

She knew she had neglected Zheng Yili these past few days, which was why she had rushed over as soon as she finished work today.

But instead of the expected smile, she had been met with repeated sarcasm from Zheng Yili, and her patience was wearing thin.

Her fingers tapped impatiently against her thigh. She wanted to explain further, but when she met Zheng Yili’s eyes—smiling on the surface but utterly cold beneath—she stopped.

Finally, Song Qi’an turned away in inexplicable anger. “Fine. I’ll come see you again in a couple of days. Get some rest.”

Seeing her eager to leave, Zheng Yili called out again, “Wait.” When Song Qi’an paused and glanced back questioningly, she added, “You still haven’t told me where your sister is.”

Again, it was about Song Yanqing. A strange pang of jealousy struck Song Qi’an.

Her expression turned icy as she stared at Zheng Yili’s concerned face, her words coming out through gritted teeth. “I don’t know.”

Without waiting for Zheng Yili’s reaction, she turned and strode away decisively.

Zheng Yili watched her retreating figure unmoving. She doesn’t know? As her sister, how could she not know Song Yanqing’s whereabouts? Their relationship must be so bad that she didn’t even care about her well-being.

Just like how she treated her.

Having roughly assessed the nature of their relationship, Zheng Yili took out her phone again. Staring at the still-unanswered message, she slowly typed: “Reply when you’re free.”

She didn’t know when Song Yanqing would see it, but in the meantime, she wasn’t idle.

After signing the necessary contracts and organizing the inheritance left by her father, Zheng Yili drove straight to Xingyue Entertainment. The newly established company was still small in scale with few employees and no signed artists yet.

After a brief greeting with her secretary, Zheng Yili instructed, “Notify everyone—there will be a meeting in one hour.”

She didn’t need to investigate the company’s current situation. Zheng Yili knew Xingyue Entertainment inside out—she could recite every employee’s details from memory even with her eyes closed.

The secretary acknowledged the order and left.

An hour later, everyone gathered in the modestly sized meeting room, their gazes brimming with curiosity and gossip as they watched Zheng Yili.

She ignored them entirely and began firmly, “Starting today, the company will aggressively recruit actors, talent scouts, agents, and screenwriters—all of whom I will personally interview.”

Originally, Xingyue Entertainment had a similar focus as Song Qi’an’s Dingrui Media—signing artists to break into the film industry.

But now, Zheng Yili had changed her mind. The film market was already saturated, while short dramas were just beginning to rise. At this point in time, shifting focus to short dramas would allow her to be among the first to reap substantial rewards.

Short dramas, with their brief episode lengths and tightly packed plots—especially if filled with melodrama—could easily hook viewers, compelling them to spend money uncontrollably.

Moreover, short dramas were quick to produce and required minimal investment, maximizing profits with the lowest costs—perfect for Zheng Yili’s current plans.

Once she finished speaking, Zheng Yili stood. “Meeting adjourned.”

After she left, the room full of employees exchanged bewildered glances. A more senior staff member tapped the table. “Alright, everyone, let’s get to work.”

“Finance mentioned the salary structure is being adjusted—meaning there’s a good chance for raises in the future.”

That single sentence instantly spurred everyone into action. After all, who would turn down more money?

Zheng Yili felt overwhelmingly busy—so much so that she often forgot to eat and barely slept five hours a day. Only after half a month did she finally catch her breath and return home, only to discover that someone had moved into the previously vacant house next door.

She stopped the butler. “When did the neighbor move in?”

“Half a month ago.” The butler glanced at the vibrant, blooming flowers in the yard and added, “It’s a woman—and someone you know, miss.”

Zheng Yili tilted her head. “Who?”

“The eldest daughter of the Song family.”

Song Yanqing.

Zheng Yili froze for a moment, then quickly pulled out her phone as she tried to recall. Song Yanqing had actually replied to her message late that same night, but Zheng Yili had been so swamped—barely keeping her feet on the ground—that she had unconsciously overlooked the reply buried among work notifications.

Feeling rather embarrassed, she said, “Please prepare some gifts for me. I’ll go visit her.”

Whether in her past life or this one, Song Yanqing had helped Zheng Yili countless times. Out of courtesy—and more—she owed her a visit.

The butler swiftly prepared the items and followed behind Zheng Yili.

Zheng Yili stepped out and walked around to the neighboring house, raising her delicate hand to press the doorbell. Someone came to answer, but it wasn’t Song Yanqing—instead, it was a middle-aged woman in work clothes. “Just a moment,” she said.

The woman seemed to recognize Zheng Yili, her face breaking into a warm, kindly smile. “Miss Zheng, are you here to see Yanqing?”

Zheng Yili nodded slightly, and the woman’s smile deepened. “Yanqing has always been thinking of you. She even specifically asked me to keep an eye out for your movements.”

“But since you haven’t been home much lately, she eventually gave up.”

That was indeed Zheng Yili’s fault. She offered an apologetic smile. “I’ll apologize to Miss Song in person later…”

“Nanny Wang” shook her head in a fluster, instinctively wanting to refuse on Song Yanqing’s behalf, but then she suddenly noticed the person behind her had stopped moving. Puzzled, she turned and saw Zheng Yili staring fixedly in a certain direction.

Following her gaze, Song Yanqing’s figure quickly came into view.

Amid a garden of fresh, vibrant flowers, the woman sat quietly in a wheelchair, exuding a fragile, broken aura. After half a month apart, Zheng Yili couldn’t help but notice how much thinner she had become—as if only a skeleton remained, draped in plain robes.

The weather today was lovely, the sunlight warm and comforting. Yet under its glow, Song Yanqing’s skin appeared even paler, almost translucent.

Zheng Yili’s heart clenched violently, her lips trembling slightly. “…What happened to her?”

Nanny Wang snapped out of her daze. “She had a fall and fractured her leg.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Zheng. Yanqing will be fine—she just needs some time to recover.”

An indescribable emotion surged in Zheng Yili’s chest—was it distress? Or pity? From Song Qi’an’s attitude, she could roughly guess Song Yanqing’s standing and circumstances at home.

And that was precisely why Song Yanqing’s sudden move here felt all the more heartbreaking.

Zheng Yili stepped forward, walking toward her.

The woman, having heard the footsteps long ago, lifted her face, her eyes brimming with gentle warmth. “Finished with your work?”

“Mm,” Zheng Yili replied, then glanced at the butler, signaling for him to hand the items to Nanny Wang and leave. Understanding, the butler gave a slight bow before departing, taking Nanny Wang with him.

“How did you fall?” Zheng Yili stood there, her presence imposing from above.

Song Yanqing blinked, then smiled. “There was water on the stairs. I didn’t notice in time.”

Zheng Yili frowned, her gaze fixed on the cast around Song Yanqing’s ankle. Since she was at home, she only wore slippers.

Beneath the soft, elegant hem of her dress, a slender, porcelain-like calf was exposed to the air, blending with the sunlight in a way that was inexplicably alluring.

Song Yanqing’s entire frame was delicate, her skin almost paper-thin, adding to her naturally cool demeanor an inexplicable air that stirred a protective instinct.

Zheng Yili stared, momentarily lost in thought.

Only when Song Yanqing shyly tucked her foot back, as if embarrassed by the scrutiny, did Zheng Yili snap out of it. Blinking, she awkwardly pulled over a chair and sat down, forcing out a stiff, “Be more careful next time.”

“Okay,” came the amused reply, making Zheng Yili glance at her a few more times.

To be honest, whether in her past life or this one, Zheng Yili had never seen the other person lose their temper—especially in her previous life. Back then, Zheng Yili was often provoked by Lin Xiaoxiao to the point of emotional outbursts, frequently throwing things and lashing out at people.

Yet no matter how harshly Zheng Yili mocked Song Yanqing with cutting remarks or sarcasm, Song Yanqing never once showed her any displeasure.

The woman always wore a faint smile at the corners of her lips, warm as a spring breeze.

But to Zheng Yili’s sensitive eyes, such a beautiful scene only seemed irritating, even mocking—even that gentle smile became infuriating…

When trapped in darkness, struggling without hope of redemption, even beauty becomes distorted into a sin.

For Song Yanqing, it was entirely undeserved.

Zheng Yili’s face flushed uncharacteristically, her fingers twisting together in unbearable awkwardness.

“Since you’re almost done with your work, I’ll have my people report to your company tomorrow,” Song Yanqing said, taking in her bashful hesitation and breaking the silence.

“Huh?” Zheng Yili tilted her head, momentarily confused before understanding. “…Alright.”

She had nearly forgotten—yet Song Yanqing still remembered.

It suddenly struck Zheng Yili that Song Yanqing seemed exceptionally attentive to anything related to her. But in her past life, she had been too consumed by unrequited love to notice.

She couldn’t help studying Song Yanqing’s expression, only to find the woman’s gaze utterly transparent.

Was it just her imagination?

Zheng Yili shook her head uncertainly.

Still, Song Yanqing had been sent by Song Qi’an to comfort her—it made sense she’d be considerate. By then, they were already family. Out of pity for Zheng Yili’s misery, she might have wanted to compensate her on Song Qi’an’s behalf.

And Song Yanqing had indeed done so—exceedingly even Madam Ji in her indulgence, catering to Zheng Yili’s every whim with near-excessive tolerance.