I Am the White Moonlight that the Former Movie Queen Secretly Loves - Chapter 20

The demolition date for the development zone’s buildings had been postponed repeatedly. Initially scheduled for next month, it was suddenly moved up to this month.

The news caused an uproar. The relocation deadline was pushed forward again and again, leaving both tenants and owners of the tenement buildings completely unprepared.

Rumors had it that owners from the front buildings had organized protests against the developers. Unfortunately, the developers had powerful backing. Not only were their demands unmet, but they also suffered significant losses.

Early the next morning, dozens—if not hundreds—of burly men gathered at the base of the building.

A sea of dark figures tightly blocked the entrance to the tenement.

Leading this group of enforcers to clear out the tenants was Zheng Zhong, deputy general manager of Jiangnan Construction Co., Ltd., known to many as “Young Master Zheng.”

“What a damn nuisance,” Zheng Zhong didn’t speak. Instead, Hou San, his ever-present lackey, took the lead. Clutching a cigarette between his fingers, he raised his grimy hand, and the surrounding black-clad bodyguards swiftly encircled the tenants and owners gathered downstairs.

“Demolition now or later—it’s happening either way. I don’t get why you’re blocking the entrance. This shabby tenement’s already marked for demolition, and it’s not like you won’t get compensation. Tenants, take your complaints to your landlords. Landlords, what’s the point of crowding here?”

Old Hou spat on the ground, his narrow eyes squinting into slits. “Wouldn’t it be better for everyone to leave peacefully? Why insist on making this ugly?”

His shrill, grating voice, laced with curses, sounded like a eunuch’s screech. The commotion was enough to jolt Qi Sijia awake.

Flicking on the bedside lamp, she squinted against the harsh light.

She threw off the covers, draped a cotton coat over her shoulders, and cracked open the window.

At around 5:30 a.m., only a handful of tenants were awake, making the enforcers below seem even more overwhelming.

Under the dim streetlights, faces were indistinguishable.

All that could be heard were shouts from the crowd:

“Gathering to intimidate people!”

“This is illegal!”

Young Master Zheng and his crew burst into laughter as if they’d heard the funniest joke.

Old Hou doubled over in amusement, lighting a cigarette for Zheng Zhong before sneering, “Do you even know who our Young Master Zheng’s aunt is? The wife of Qi Jun, vice chairman of the Ningcheng Chamber of Commerce!”

Someone in the crowd roared, “No matter who she is, intimidation is a crime!”

“In Ningcheng, the Zheng family is the law!”

The young master seemed to find the statement a bit too bold. When Old Hou repeated it, Zheng Zhong promptly kicked him.

Qi Sijia turned on her voice recorder, capturing this arrogant declaration—one that could easily drag the Qi family into scandal—and sent it straight to Qi Jun with a single tap.

She then dialed 110. But Zheng Zhong’s group only issued threats without actually escalating to violence. After their intimidation, they withdrew, warning they’d return the next day.

Had this been an outright brawl, the police would’ve hauled them in for detention. But Zheng Zhong was a seasoned troublemaker, slippery as an eel.

When questioned by the police, he’d casually claim his friends were just drunk and spouting nonsense. No fights, no injuries—just empty threats. At worst, they’d be fined a few thousand yuan.

If push came to shove, they could always sacrifice loudmouths like Old Hou to a 24-hour detention—hardly a deterrent for thugs like them.

But for the tenants in the development zone who refused to leave, this was a nightmare. Who could endure being harassed before dawn every day?

After dressing and washing up, Qi Sijia realized Ah Ju had fallen ill.

Inside the cat carrier, the soft padding was covered in a significant amount of shed fur. The large orange tabby hadn’t left the carrier, resting its chin on its paw pads, listless and uninterested in the untouched food and water in front of it.

With a weak, barely audible meow, it seemed even lifting its eyes to glance at Qi Sijia required too much effort.

Qi Sijia had spent a long time searching online but couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong with the tabby. This cat had been her companion for many years. Honestly, as the cat aged, Qi Sijia knew deep down it might not even make it through this winter. But preparing herself mentally was one thing—facing the reality was another.

She called Gui Xiaolian, asking her to help request leave from work, briefly mentioning the cat’s condition.

“Have you considered taking it to Uncle Mo for a look?”

“Is Uncle Mo a vet?” Qi Sijia asked.

“No, but he’s incredibly skilled in medicine,” Gui Xiaolian replied. “At this hour, even if you took your cat to a vet, you’d have to wait until 8:30 when they open. And today’s Saturday—there’s no guarantee you’d even get an appointment.”

Qi Sijia thanked her and glanced again at the tabby, whose eyes seemed to be fading fast.

She hurriedly threw on a jacket, fastened a gas mask over her mouth, and carried the cat carrier downstairs.

By chance, Uncle Mo’s door was open. In the entryway stood an old red-painted wooden examination table.

Normally, Qi Sijia wouldn’t run into Uncle Mo during his consultations, but the commotion downstairs had woken up most of the neighbors in the tenement building.

Uncle Mo was turned away, attending to a young man.

The teenager was tall, around eighteen or nineteen, standing at 183 cm. His eccentric attire was somewhat similar to Qi Sijia’s, and he wore a mask that covered his mouth completely.

He carried a massive backpack, from which three tiny heads peeked out—kittens, upon closer inspection.

“You can’t keep taking in more cats,” Uncle Mo said.

The young man looked troubled. “Could you prescribe me another herbal remedy?”

“It’ll only treat the symptoms, not the root cause.” Seeing the boy’s insistence, Uncle Mo sighed, dipped his brush in ink, and began writing the prescription on yellowed paper. “A-Le, you saw the scene downstairs this morning, didn’t you? The tenement might be demolished soon. Where do you plan to hide all your little friends then?”

The question left the young man speechless.

Once the prescription was written and folded into a neat square, Uncle Mo handed it to him and stood up. The slightly hunched old man, whose height barely reached the boy’s waist, couldn’t straighten his back. His gaze remained fixed on the ground. Though not elderly, his hair was already streaked with white.

He was a well-known folk healer in the area, rumored to be exceptionally skilled. His background was unclear, but according to Gui Xiaolian, he had treated Aunt Gui’s pulmonary heart disease before. If not for the lack of an oxygen machine at home, they might never have gone to the hospital. Those were Gui Xiaolian’s exact words.

Qi Sijia paced back and forth, intending to speak only after the two had finished.

But Uncle Mo turned and recognized her immediately. “Miss Qi.”

Perhaps because she had been interacting with more people lately or because the gas mask shielded her, being stared at by two strangers didn’t trigger her usual heart palpitations—just a slight unease.

Qi Sijia tugged her hat lower and stepped forward, cradling the carrier. “Could you please take a look at my cat?”

The tabby had stopped eating since yesterday. Qi Sijia had been too busy with work to notice, unaware of when it had fallen ill.

Uncle Mo was taken aback, clearly having no experience in treating animals.

“Perhaps… let me take a look.” The voice didn’t belong to Uncle Mo but to the young man beside him.

Qi Sijia hesitated and glanced at him. The young man nodded, and behind him, three kittens peeked out from his large backpack, staring at Qi Sijia just like their owner.

Somehow, it added an inexplicable sense of credibility.

“Miss Qi, if you’re in a hurry, you can let Ale take a look first. His family has raised all kinds of cats—he’s more experienced than I am.”

With Uncle Mo’s reassurance, Qi Sijia lifted the cat out of its carrier. “Then I’ll trouble you.”

As she handed the cat over, the young man suddenly avoided it.

Qi Sijia thought he was unwilling and awkwardly held the cat midair.

Uncle Mo quickly explained, “Ale has congenital asthma and is allergic to cat fur…”

No wonder the young man kept his cats in a backpack. Understanding dawned on Qi Sijia. “I’ll hold it. Could you guide me on what to do?”

Ale’s gaze softened as he looked at the cat. He nodded, observed for a while, then used a small hammer he carried to gently tap the orange tabby’s leg.

“Your cat lacks exercise, and its slow digestion has led to food retention. It needs some probiotics.”

“I have probiotics at home. Here’s what we’ll do—come upstairs with me. After giving the cat the probiotics, we’ll observe for an hour. If it’s fine, then it’s fine. If not, you’ll still need to go to the vet.”

Relieved, Qi Sijia thanked Uncle Mo and the young man before following Ale upstairs.

Ale was the tenant with the most rented space in the entire building. The three two-bedroom units on the right side of the third floor were all his, with the walls knocked down to form one large open area.

Qi Sijia had never interacted with the tenants downstairs and had no idea what they did. But when she stepped into Ale’s home, she froze in place.

Countless cats nearly filled the entire space. The apartment was soundproofed, likely to prevent the meowing from disturbing the neighbors.

In such a vast area, only one small room was Ale’s own living space.

His eyes shone with pure, untainted joy as he enthusiastically introduced Qi Sijia to his cat sanctuary.

Skillfully slipping on rubber gloves, he told Qi Sijia to help herself to water while he rolled up his sleeves, retrieved probiotics from a dedicated cat medicine box, mixed them with warm water, and brought it to the tabby’s mouth.

With practiced ease, he soothed the cat’s whiskers and administered the medicine.

“Let it rest for a while,” Ale said, turning to see Qi Sijia still wearing her gas mask, sipping water.

“Are you allergic to cats too?”

Qi Sijia shook her head. “I have social anxiety.”

“Is it severe?” Ale pointed at her gas mask—normal social anxiety wouldn’t lead someone to wear a gas mask.

His eyes were like sunlight, clear and pure.

Relaxing a little, Qi Sijia replied, “Yes.”

“Must be as uncomfortable as my cat allergy,” Ale said.

Qi Sijia neither confirmed nor denied it, changing the subject instead. “Did you buy all these cats?”

The room was packed with felines—some breeds Qi Sijia couldn’t even name, their coats varied, not all of them conventionally pretty.

Ale shook his head, his expression full of tenderness. “No, they’re all strays.”

Qi Sijia thought of the recent confrontation with the Zheng family and asked, “After this building is demolished, where will they live?”

“No.” At the mention of this, the young man lowered his head gloomily. “Actually, there’s a factory building becoming available next year, and I planned to move the cats there. But the demolition was moved up before the new year, giving no time to prepare, and it just happened to coincide with winter…”

A-Le paused, his expression darkening as he stroked the cat in his hands with his rubber gloves, reluctant to let go. “I had no choice but to post them online, hoping someone would take them in.”

In reality, the chances of adoption were slim. Most of A-Le’s cats were strays, not of any particular breed, and some were even older, no longer suitable for adoption.

Perhaps sensing its owner’s sadness, the cat in A-Le’s hands let out a soft meow and licked his fingers with its tiny tongue.

Qi Sijia didn’t say much after that. She helped A-Le feed water to the other cats in the cages.

Big Orange had already started eating and, perhaps excited by the sight of so many companions, let out several happy meows.

When it was time to leave, Big Orange seemed reluctant to go.

A-Le said, “If work gets too busy, you can bring him back anytime. I’ll always be here.”

Qi Sijia thanked him and tried to offer money, but A-Le refused. “The rent you set for us is already very low. This little favor is nothing.”

The young man was insistent, so Qi Sijia didn’t press further. As she reached the door, she glanced at the room full of cats and hesitated before asking, “If you’re allergic to cat fur, why do you still keep them?”

The winter sunlight reflected in A-Le’s eyes as he smiled and said, “You can’t just reject and avoid something forever just because you resist it. You’d miss out on too much love and happiness that way.”

Qi Sijia was momentarily stunned. It had been a long time since anyone had lectured her.

She didn’t believe in motivational platitudes.

But hearing such words from a young man who had faced life-and-death struggles yet still pursued happiness made her feel as though she had spent these years drawing a circle around herself, confining herself to a tiny space.

She wasn’t rejecting social interaction—she was afraid of it.

Lost in thought for a moment, Qi Sijia found herself unconsciously curling her lips into a faint smile at the young man. Despite her discomfort, she lifted the corners of her mouth slightly at A-Le.

In an era where bone structure was highly prized, Qi Sijia’s features leaned toward delicate elegance—her nose was straight and refined, her skin pale, with a cool undertone from lack of sun exposure, giving her an ethereal, icy beauty.

A thin, delicate chain adorned her slender neck, her long hair cascading down her back.

Perhaps because she rarely smiled, the slight curve of her lips stood out.

A-Le stared at her, momentarily speechless.

Only after Qi Sijia had walked away did he stiffly turn his head and mutter, “A goddess…”

–

After settling Big Orange, Qi Sijia finally had time to check her phone.

An hour earlier, Qi Jun had called.

She pressed the callback button.

Qi Jun paused his meeting and stepped out of the conference room. “Jiajia, I listened to the recording. So, still not planning to come back? I need you.”

Truthfully, the Zheng family wasn’t beyond Qi Jun’s control. But his health had declined over the past two years, and the Qi family had no uncles, aunts, siblings, or distant relatives to rely on.

All decision-making fell on Qi Jun’s shoulders, and he needed capable people around him. Yet the Zheng family, once trustworthy, had grown increasingly ambitious and unreliable.

Qi Jun needed Qi Sijia to return and keep them in check.

That was the real reason he was so eager for her to take over Qi Enterprises.

Qi Sijia pressed her lips together. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll ruin the empire you’ve built?”

Qi Jun smiled, “Whatever you prefer.”

Qi Sijia frowned, “Give me some time.”

–

Ye Qianqian was out having fun with her friends when she received a call from Qi Sijia.

“Jiajia?”

“Where are you?” Qi Sijia asked.

“Xishan Equestrian Club.”

Ye Qianqian’s social circle was chaotic. As a daughter of the Ye family, she wasn’t entirely the type to gather a clique of mean girls—after all, being articulate and sociable by nature, she had the ability to navigate and exchange information within her social strata.

But chaotic it was—Ye Qianqian changed girlfriends almost every three days. The current A-list actress she was dating wasn’t the same as the one she’d been talking to on the phone a few days prior.

“Ye-jie, I have a class reunion tonight. Can you come with me?”

Ye Qianqian wasn’t particularly interested. She pressed the receiver to her ear and glanced down, signaling her companion to stay quiet.

“Let’s talk about it later. I need to take this call outside.”

“Who is it?” The girl tugged at Ye Qianqian’s bag.

Ye Qianqian turned and gave her a look—playful yet icy. Fu Chuchu froze and instinctively let go.

Once she reached a quiet corner and heard the whole story, Ye Qianqian laughed carelessly. “I don’t think your dad would ever dare use your coming-out against you again. The consequences last time were something he couldn’t afford to wait another five years to repeat.”

Qi Sijia thought the same.

No matter how much Qi Jun opposed her sexuality, after what happened five years ago, Wei Yunfang wouldn’t allow it. And Qi Jun’s lifelong nemesis was his ex-wife.

Qi Sijia hummed in acknowledgment. “So, do you think I’m mentally ready to go back?”

“You’ll have to push through,” Ye Qianqian said. “Social anxiety isn’t some terminal illness. Weren’t you working outside? How’s that going? Have you found someone who makes you feel at ease, someone you don’t instinctively resist?”

This was part of the treatment plan Qi Sijia’s therapist had suggested. Of course, this top-tier psychologist had been sourced by Ye Qianqian from abroad, so she was naturally privy to some details of Qi Sijia’s therapy.

The options were either exposure therapy or finding someone Qi Sijia didn’t resist, who could then guide her into socializing with others.

Ye Qianqian had tried the latter a few years ago, but unfortunately, Qi Sijia had built walls around her.

When Qi Sijia remained silent for a long time, Ye Qianqian pressed, “Well? Have you met someone like that?”

Qi Sijia thought for a moment, and the face of the penthouse owner flashed through her mind.

After a few seconds of silence, she replied, “Yes. But they might not be willing.”

“Pay for the service—why wouldn’t they be willing?” Ye Qianqian scoffed. “If they’re unwilling, there’s only one reason: you’re not offering enough.”

“If you can’t handle it yourself, leave it to me.”

Qi Sijia thought of the penthouse socialite casually gifting jewelry to others and twitched her lips.

She figured Ye Qianqian’s offer might not even register on that woman’s radar.

So she politely declined.

–

After three consecutive days of enjoying delicious, well-prepared meals, lunch didn’t arrive at noon that day.

It’s easy to grow accustomed to luxury but hard to return to simplicity.

Meng Jiang narrowed her eyes, preferring to go hungry rather than resort to the nutrient-packed instant meals or fruit salads at home.

An empty stomach all day left her in a foul mood during her show recording.

By evening, she noticed a few strands of hair by her doorstep—the same ones she’d seen that morning, meaning the floor hadn’t been cleaned all day.

Pursing her lips, Meng Jiang called the property management to complain.

“She’s new and still adjusting to the job. How about this—we’ll assign you a different cleaner…”

“Is that so?” Meng Jiang sneered. “I actually think she’s adjusted quite well. But in my line of work, things are black and white—no gray areas.”

“You’re absolutely right. We’ll inform her to come apologize to you in person tomorrow.”

After hanging up the phone, Meng Jiang saw a message buzzing in the class group chat.

“@Meng Jiang, tonight at 8, Taiyi Road, Far & Near Club—you have to come!”