I Married My Heartless Ex-Wife’s Black Lotus Sister - Chapter 9

“So what?” Zheng Yili scoffed. “Just because you haven’t crossed that line now doesn’t mean you won’t in the future.”

She brushed a strand of long hair behind her small, pale ear, her tone firm. “It’s only a matter of time before you two end up together anyway.”

Song Qi’an disliked Zheng Yili’s baseless suspicions. A flicker of displeasure crossed her eyes, and her voice carried rare exasperation. “Yili, stop being unreasonable.”

“Lin Xiaoxiao is my artist—”

“Wow.” Zheng Yili cut her off with exaggerated sarcasm, feigning surprise. “What a kind, considerate, and saintly boss you are.”

Song Qi’an’s lips twitched, rendered speechless by her barbed words.

But Zheng Yili wasn’t done. “Tomorrow, I’ll have a commendation banner made for you and hang it at your company’s entrance. That way, all your employees can admire your impeccable moral character. How does that sound?”

“Zheng Yili.” Her behavior was too much, and Song Qi’an couldn’t help raising her voice.

Hearing her name called sharply, Zheng Yili’s expression turned blank. “You know your actions aren’t exactly honorable, don’t you?”

“You know you’ve already crossed boundaries with Lin Xiaoxiao, far beyond a normal boss-artist relationship, don’t you?”

“Song Qi’an, I really look down on you,” Zheng Yili said coldly. “You have the intention to stray but lack the courage to make a clean break.”

She sneered. “What, do you want to imitate those men who keep mistresses while pretending to be faithful at home?”

“I never planned anything like that.” The accusation made a vein throb at Song Qi’an’s temple, but she forced herself to remain composed. “You’re overthinking it.”

“I never had such intentions.”

Zheng Yili lifted her gaze, offering a faint smile. “Say whatever you want—it’s none of my business. Song Qi’an, I made myself very clear the last time you came to me.”

“So, if your little sweetheart dares to play petty games in front of me again, don’t blame me for taking it out on both of you.”

She cracked her knuckles. “You know I don’t joke around.”

Song Qi’an stiffened, staring at Zheng Yili as if seeing her for the first time. The Zheng Yili she knew might have been mischievous, but she had always been measured—never this bitter and crude.

Song Qi’an parted her lips. “You need to calm down.”

“I’m perfectly calm.” Zheng Yili scoffed. “Anything else? If not, I’m leaving.” With that, she turned and waved dismissively. “Go chase after your sweetheart before she sulks and cries herself into a puddle.”

“Wouldn’t want you pinning the blame on me again and forcing me to apologize to her.”

Her melodious voice dissolved into the breeze. Song Qi’an stood rooted, staring at the closed door of the private room, her usually icy face betraying rare confusion.

Why was Zheng Yili so convinced she would side with Lin Xiaoxiao?

And judging by her reaction, it was as if Song Qi’an had already done something foolish.

Zheng Yili took a deep breath, steadying herself before stepping back into the private room. Seeing her unharmed, her friends sighed in relief. “Yili, you didn’t hit Qi’an just now, did you?”

“No,” Zheng Yili smiled. “I was afraid she’d try to extort me. Besides, do I really seem like such a violent person?”

One of them nodded. “Yili, you must have forgotten about the time when you were little and beat up that bully who picked on Qi’an until he was black and blue, crying for his parents. You scared him so badly he scrambled to apologize to Qi’an on the spot.”

The memory was too distant, and Zheng Yili struggled to recall it before it finally came back to her.

Back then, though she was young, the moment she laid eyes on Song Qi’an—delicate, porcelain-skinned, and exquisitely beautiful—she had fallen for him at first sight. The child had a calm temperament, often wearing a stern expression like a tiny iceberg.

Drawn in by his beauty, Zheng Yili fluttered around him like a little butterfly, refusing to leave no matter how much Qi’an tried to shoo her away.

The day of the incident, Zheng Yili had taken half a day off. When she returned to school after finishing her errands, she had just stepped out of the car when she saw Qi’an, his small face stubbornly set, wrestling with the school’s most notorious bully.

Zheng Yili’s heart lurched, then fury surged through her. Without hesitation, she rushed forward and swung her fist hard into the bully’s face.

Thanks to Madam Ji’s training, Zheng Yili already knew a bit of martial arts by then, so despite the other boy’s larger size, she easily gained the upper hand and won the fight.

Later, when the teachers found out about the fight, all the children’s parents were called to the school.

When asked about the reason for the fight, Zheng Yili, afraid of being scolded by Madam Ji, stammered and couldn’t get a word out. But then, Qi’an—his face bruised—took a small step forward and resolutely shielded Zheng Yili. “She was helping me.”

“And why did you get into a fight with Zhang Yao?”

Qi’an’s fists clenched tightly beneath his sleeves. “Zhang Yao called my sister a sickly ghost. He said she was ill because girls are unlucky, and he even cursed her, saying she wouldn’t live past adulthood.”

At his words, the adults finally understood. Zhang Yao’s mother looked particularly displeased. “Kids joke around all the time. Why take it so seriously?”

“A joke is only a joke if the person it’s about finds it funny, isn’t it?”

A childish voice rang out, and Zheng Yili instinctively turned toward the door. Little Song Yanqing, though slender, stood tall, her bearing carrying a steadiness and maturity beyond her years.

“Auntie, what status does my sister hold, and what status does your son hold? If a child doesn’t know better, shouldn’t you, as an adult?”

Song Yanqing’s sharp gaze bore into the woman, frost gathering in her cool, noble features. “We may be young, but the Song family never lets a slight go unanswered.”

Something Zheng Yili had overlooked as a child suddenly became clear. She remembered how Yanqing had gone on to ruthlessly threaten Zhang Yao’s mother: “Auntie, your family—is finished.”

In the end, Zheng Yili received no real punishment, just a verbal reprimand from Madam Ji. As for Zhang Yao, he suddenly disappeared—rumor had it he had transferred to another school.

Looking back now, it was likely that Qi’an and Yanqing’s parents had stepped in to teach the boy and his family a proper lesson.

The howling singing pulled Zheng Yili’s thoughts back to reality. “That really feels like a distant memory,” she mused. Perhaps recalling those simpler times brought a faint smile to her eyes.

Just as Song Qi’an entered, she caught sight of Zheng Yili’s subtle smile. Her steps faltered momentarily before she composed herself and returned to her seat as if nothing had happened.

From the moment she entered the private room, Zheng Yili hadn’t spared her a single glance. Song Qi’an’s peripheral vision flickered, unable to articulate the complex emotions churning within her.

Someone couldn’t bear to watch any longer and slowly sidled up to Song Qi’an, deliberately lowering their voice. “Qi’an, I don’t mean to lecture you, but why did you have to play those disgusting games of keeping women like all those other scumbags? You and Yili were doing so well.”

“Yili is human too. Her heart is made of flesh—she can get hurt, she can feel pain.”

“Mark my words, if you keep messing around like this, one day Yili will gather enough disappointment to leave you for good. Don’t come crying with some grand romantic gesture when that happens, trying to win her back.”

Song Qi’an endured this roundabout scolding without uttering a word.

She toyed with the cigarette case in her hand, her expression unreadable.

The friend sighed and continued, “Qi’an, I refuse to believe you can’t see through Lin Xiaoxiao’s little schemes. Even us fools can tell—how could someone as sharp as you miss it?”

Then they hesitated before adding, “Unless… you’ve actually taken a liking to Lin Xiaoxiao?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Song Qi’an finally spoke, her denial cool. She glanced at her childhood friend. “Stop making baseless assumptions and slandering people.”

The words stung. The friend felt suffocated, struggling before finally spitting out, “Song Qi’an, you’re truly heartless.”

Song Qi’an seemed puzzled. “Are you standing up for Zheng Yili now?”

“Did she send you over?”

“Of course not.” The friend looked at Song Qi’an with profound disappointment, perhaps never imagining their once-close friend could become like this.

They wrestled with unspoken words before finally meeting Song Qi’an’s gaze. “Qi’an, let me give you one last piece of advice—cherish what you have now. Build a proper life with Yili.”

“Because if you break her heart and drive her away, none of us will help you get her back.”

Song Qi’an smiled faintly, the expression laced with something indecipherable.

In the dim lighting, her features blurred as she crossed her legs on the sofa, lighting a slender cigarette. The swirling smoke obscured whatever thoughts lay behind her eyes.