I Am the White Moonlight that the Former Movie Queen Secretly Loves - Chapter 12

I saw Meng Jiang again at three in the afternoon.

Her takeout had arrived, and Qi Sijia had just finished mopping the hallway on the top floor not long before.

Because the floor was still damp, the delivery guy left a trail of coal-dusted footprints behind him.

When Meng Jiang opened her door, she immediately noticed the conspicuous marks outside. The previous cleaning lady assigned to Building 8 had left similar tracks before.

After an investigation by the property management, it turned out the cleaner had stepped into the building with wet mud from the park stuck to her shoes.

So when Meng Jiang saw these familiar footprints again, she immediately called the property management to file a complaint, while also probing whether the oddly dressed cleaning lady she had encountered at noon might have been a paparazzo.

Ten minutes later.

Qi Sijia arrived at the top floor via the fire escape and spotted the elegant, striking woman in a mask leaning against her doorway.

When their eyes met, surprise flickered in the woman’s gaze.

After a brief assessment, she didn’t give Qi Sijia a hard time. Instead, with an air of refined dignity, she stepped forward and pointed out—with a delicate gesture—everything from the accumulated dust in the stairwell to the footprints on the marble floor, and even the exposed adhesive on the public area’s wall tiles, demanding that Qi Sijia clean it all up.

These tasks technically fell within the cleaner’s responsibilities, but the previous cleaner had only tackled the stairwell once a month. With thirty floors in the building, it was impossible to finish in a single day.

Qi Sijia thought for a moment, unsure how to refuse. After a brief silence, she quietly agreed.

By five in the afternoon, the cleaning of the public areas still wasn’t done.

“Why are you still here?”

Meng Jiang had just returned from her spa session and, upon stepping out of the elevator, found the cleaner she had encountered twice that day still on duty.

Qi Sijia was utterly exhausted. The dust mop slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a thud—she could barely even bend her waist anymore.

Meng Jiang seemed to sense her struggle.

She walked over, bent her long legs, and gracefully picked up the overused dust mop, now nearly clogged with dust and hair, before handing it back to Qi Sijia.

The proximity allowed a faint trace of perfume to drift into Qi Sijia’s nose.

Qi Sijia blinked in surprise and instinctively leaned in for a deeper whiff.

But Meng Jiang narrowed her eyes, straightened up swiftly, and took a deliberate step back. She pulled a silk handkerchief from her pocket and meticulously wiped her fingers.

She really did have a thing about cleanliness.

Qi Sijia froze for a second but didn’t dwell on it. Plenty of people in the world used the same perfume as Meng Jiang.

As a shut-in who had just overexerted herself cleaning an entire building, she was probably just hallucinating from exhaustion.

It wasn’t that she absolutely needed this job—half-heartedly fulfilling unreasonable demands would at most get her fired. But Qi Sijia wasn’t the type to cut corners.

After dutifully cleaning the entire building, she had stayed on duty out of sheer commitment, completely forgetting to check the clock.

Out of habit, she raised a hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead, only to touch the cold surface of her gas mask. Unfazed, she lowered her hand.

She lifted her gaze to take in the impeccably dressed woman before her. Meng Jiang had changed into casual wear, now sporting a ginger-orange knitted cap. Like Qi Sijia, she wore a large mask that concealed most of her face.

Only her striking eyes were visible, still shimmering with lingering surprise as she patiently waited for Qi Sijia’s explanation.

Wasn’t it you who demanded the cleaning?

Qi Sijia replied flatly, “How can I leave before finishing the job?”

“Cleaning the entire building in one day is a bit challenging for me.”

Meng Jiang was momentarily speechless. She took a deep breath and asked incredulously, “The entire building?”

“In one day?”

Qi Sijia replied, “Yes, isn’t that right?”

Their eyes met, and Meng Jiang confirmed that the cleaning lady in front of her wasn’t joking—she was seriously taking on a workload that would normally take others a month.

Meng Jiang pursed her lips, her phoenix eyes darkening slightly as she studied Qi Sijia thoughtfully.

Qi Sijia, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny, cleared her throat lightly.

“Do you have any other instructions?”

She used the word “instructions,” her tone unhurried, her voice slightly hoarse—whether from a cold or a naturally smoky timbre was unclear.

There was a hint of rigid professionalism in her tone.

Damn.

Meng Jiang’s eyes flickered as she glanced around. The public areas of the hallway were noticeably cleaner and brighter than they had been in previous days.

Though there was still a fine layer of dust overhead, it was clear that this cleaner was far more diligent than the last one.

For the first time, Meng Jiang found she could tolerate a bit of lingering dust.

She looked at Qi Sijia and asked gently, “Are you the new cleaner?”

This was the second time she’d asked.

Qi Sijia replied, “Yes.”

“Your employee number is…”

Qi Sijia answered, “4863.”

Filing complaints at the drop of a hat seemed rather petty.

Qi Sijia frowned, her guard up as she countered, “Why do you ask?”

Her tone sharpened, carrying a hint of defensiveness. Meng Jiang smiled. “Apologies for taking my frustration out on you this afternoon. You can clock out now—the remaining dust can be taken care of within the month.”

With that, the fingerprint lock clicked open. She stepped into the foyer but then turned back, handing Qi Sijia the bag of cherries she’d just bought.

The woman’s phoenix eyes curved, her beautiful irises brimming with starlight.

Caught off guard by the charm in her gaze, Qi Sijia stared blankly as the woman’s porcelain-white fingers gripped the security door, slowly closing it in front of her.

Scratching her head, she looked down to find the cherries in her hand—vibrant red, even more striking than roses.

If she remembered correctly, these were the same fruits the top-floor resident had brought home earlier.

The woman hadn’t touched her lunch delivery much, and taking someone else’s food didn’t sit right with her.

With that in mind, Qi Sijia nonchalantly hung the peace offering back on the doorknob and returned it.

An hour later, Meng Jiang retrieved the rejected apology cherries and placed them on the round table before calling the property management.

–

Before seven, the sky was shrouded in a thick, inky darkness.

As the last one to leave, Qi Sijia found the locker room empty. She changed out of her uniform but, after some thought, kept the respirator on.

Based on the day’s experience, the extra layer of protection had prevented the heart palpitations and anxiety she’d worried about—especially when interacting with the resident on the top floor of Building 8.

Perhaps because the other woman had also been wearing a mask, making their conversation feel no different from chatting online. In fact, Qi Sijia had even spoken more than usual.

Thinking this, she decided to leave the respirator on, layering a disposable mask over it and wrapping her blue-and-white scarf around her face. In the mirror, aside from her slightly puffed-up cheeks, she didn’t look too odd. After adjusting her appearance, she shoved her hands into her pockets and headed home.

Evening rush hour.

The overpass was jammed with traffic.

Neon lights flickered outside the car window as Qi Sijia turned on some soothing instrumental music.

The entire day of going out to work didn’t turn out to be the chaotic mess she had anticipated, nor was there the bone-deep indifference of home weighing on her.

Dark eyes reflected the shimmering car lights as the little yellow duck—stuck in the middle of a long traffic jam—honked its horn repeatedly. The noise seemed to suddenly merge with her, and a slow smile crept onto Qi Sijia’s lips.

So much so that when Qin Xiaofang called twice in a row, it took Qi Sijia a moment to react.

“Do you still have any hope left?”

“If you don’t work hard, how can you face the bonus I sacrificed for you?”

Hearing this, Qi Sijia immediately knew what Qin Xiaofang was about to say.

Without a doubt, it would be a full-service package of reminders and motivational speeches.

Qi Sijia rubbed her ear.

Qin Xiaofang was Qi Sijia’s college roommate and currently worked as an editor at Huangjiang Literature Network.

They were both colleagues and classmates, and every time Qi Sijia stopped updating her work, Qin Xiaofang would call with the same lecture.

Qi Sijia leisurely set her phone aside, focusing on waiting for the slow-moving traffic ahead to ease up.

Only after Qin Xiaofang finished her tirade did she ask, “Are you even listening?”

Qi Sijia replied, “Can’t talk while driving.”

“Cut the crap, I have urgent news.”

The sound of honking came from behind as Qi Sijia inched forward by a car’s length.

She put on her Bluetooth earpiece before speaking. “Go ahead.”

“There’s news about the film and TV adaptation rights for Sinking. The person in charge from their side contacted the platform today. Basically, they want to assemble the crew and start filming by the first half of next year. That means you’ll have to finish the novel before spring next year.”

Sinking was a mid-length novel originally planned for 300,000 words, with 210,000 already completed. From now until spring next year, there were at least four months left—plenty of time for Qi Sijia to wrap it up.

Even so, this was the first time Qi Sijia had heard of a film adaptation team rushing to start production before the script was even finished.

“Why the sudden urgency?”

“Good, you understand the time crunch.” Qin Xiaofang sighed and briefly explained.

Xingyue Media had a close partnership with Lantai, and major IPs were usually prioritized for collaboration with them.

Lantai’s latest variety show, Star-Making New Era, a performance-based program, had invited Meng Jiang as a mentor.

Since this was Meng Jiang’s debut variety show appearance, it had already gained massive hype before airing. It was practically guaranteed to be a hit.

Xingyue Media got lucky—they had previously signed an agreement with Lantai stating that the TV adaptation of Sinking would cast actors from Star-Making New Era.

With Star-Making New Era poised to become a breakout hit—airing around New Year and ending in March or April—the timing was perfect.

Xingyue Media’s investors wanted to capitalize on the show’s popularity, hence the rush to cast and start filming before the contestants’ fame peaked. That way, even if the final product had flaws, the pre-release hype could elevate this niche-themed drama. If they were lucky, they might even sign the actors at lower rates before their market value skyrocketed.

After finishing her explanation in one breath, Qin Xiaofang noticed Qi Sijia’s lack of reaction.

She then brought up another matter: “The drama club reunion is scheduled for this weekend. Are you going?”

Qi Sijia was already annoyed about this. “Teacher Ding personally invited me. What do you think—can I really skip it?”

Qin Xiaofang giggled: “After all these years, only the old man can keep you in check. But that’s fine. Aren’t you heartbroken and looking for a new girlfriend? Go check out the class reunion—see if there’s anyone with the same orientation who’s also single. At our age, reconnecting with old classmates is way better than chasing after random flings.”

Qin Xiaofang was a master at “grazing near the nest,” and her logic only made Qi Sijia chuckle. “Are you going?” she asked.

“Of course I am,” Qin Xiaofang replied. “If Meng Jiang is going, why wouldn’t I? Who knows—maybe after seeing all the delicacies in the entertainment industry, the goddess has grown tired of them and now has a unique taste, finding someone like me, plain and simple, appealing.”

Qi Sijia: “…”

“Speaking of which, the entire drama club is buzzing about Meng Jiang attending the reunion. Why aren’t you the least bit excited?”

“What’s there for me to be excited about?” Qi Sijia thought for a moment. “If anything, it’s more alarming. What if she still likes me—”

“Stop right there. Cut the daydreaming.” Qin Xiaofang seemed utterly exasperated by Qi Sijia’s self-delusion. “You’ve got a decent face and a way with words, but that’s about it. The rest? Not even close… Don’t embarrass yourself.”

Qi Sijia: “Good. That’s for the best.”

The traffic ahead had eased slightly. After briefly confirming their plans to attend the reunion together over the weekend, Qi Sijia hung up.

–

Outside the tenement building were open-air parking spaces. Qi Sijia parked her little yellow scooter.

Under the dim streetlights, the area, slated for demolition, was sparsely populated now.

Only a few scattered food stalls remained along the street—stinky tofu, pan-fried buns, oden, and the like.

Qi Sijia walked through the narrow alleyway, heading toward the innermost lane.

People dressed similarly to her weren’t uncommon here. Occasionally, one or two middle-aged men smoking leaned against lampposts, vomiting.

She rarely went out and wasn’t familiar with the residents, so no one recognized her.

Qi Sijia moved quickly. In a place like this, brimming with the raw energy of daily life, gazes were scattered and numerous.

But wearing a gas mask, she didn’t feel uneasy.

She made it to the shabby entrance of her apartment building without any trouble.

“Qi Sijia?” A hesitant voice called from behind. Qi Sijia paused and turned around.

“It really is you!” Gui Xiaolian’s round eyes widened, her dimples sinking into her plump cheeks as she recognized Qi Sijia.

She hurried over. “Do you live here? I’ve never seen you around before.”

Qi Sijia nodded, equally surprised.

The girl before her was the college student who had struck up a conversation that morning, warning her about the picky landlord on the top floor.

Perhaps too astonished or simply socially fearless, Gui Xiaolian didn’t wait for Qi Sijia to respond. She tried to link arms with her, but Qi Sijia sidestepped the gesture.

Unfazed, Gui Xiaolian gushed about fate and then said, “Have you heard? This place is getting demolished. The guys on the fourth and third floors—Awei and Xiaobing—are planning to confront that greedy landlord upstairs who only cares about the compensation.”

She leaned in closer, whispering, “Are you in?”

Qi Sijia gave her an inscrutable look. “Government demolition—what does the landlord have to do with it?”

“Ah, exactly! That’s why my family isn’t joining in. The only ones making a fuss are those two troublemakers upstairs.”

Intellectually, Gui Xiaolian understood perfectly well that this matter had little to do with the landlord. But the rich could never comprehend the struggles of the poor. Being forced out before the New Year meant finding a new place would require at least a deposit plus three months’ rent upfront—something they simply couldn’t afford.

At this thought, Gui Xiaolian could no longer muster a smile. Her eyelids drooped as she said listlessly, “Only five or six households in this building haven’t moved out yet. Aside from those two tough guys on the third and fourth floors, I know a bit about the others. Who would risk breaking the law to stay if they had a choice? But right now, with the New Year approaching, my mom wore herself out searching and still couldn’t find anywhere with rent as cheap as here. Most of us have lived here for twenty or thirty years. Where are we supposed to go now?”

Qi Sijia lowered her gaze, staring at the peeling walls without a word.

The atmosphere grew heavy. Gui Xiaolian flicked her ponytail and forced a smile. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

“I live on the first floor. Hey, which floor are you on?”

Qi Sijia paused mid-step and turned to meet Gui Xiaolian’s eyes. “The top floor.”

Gui Xiaolian thought she’d misheard. She dug a finger into her ear. “What? The top… fifth floor?”

Qi Sijia confirmed it.

A pang of bitterness twisted in Gui Xiaolian’s chest, her expression turning complicated as she stared at Qi Sijia. “You’re—”

“The damn landlord you were just cursing,” Qi Sijia said.

Gui Xiaolian’s face instantly paled. She took a deep breath, barely keeping her composure. Then she stiffened, took a step back to put distance between them, and quickly unlocked her door, jumping back into her first-floor apartment. “Just pretend we never met.”

Qi Sijia didn’t mind the remark. She shrugged and agreed.

Turning away, she headed upstairs, lost in thought. She recalled the two migrant workers she’d met that morning—and the reply from Qi Jun’s assistant.

The developer in charge of renovating this old district was surnamed Zheng—the family of Qi Jun’s current wife.

Qi Jun couldn’t possibly be powerless in this.