I Am the White Moonlight that the Former Movie Queen Secretly Loves - Chapter 24

The private room opened into a straight, long corridor.

Meng Jiang stood at the very center of the doorway, the door ajar, allowing the bright lights from outside to seep in along with the chilly wind.

Qi Sijia watched as Meng Jiang unfolded the expensive fox-fur shawl draped over her arm and wrapped it around herself.

When she turned back, she noticed Qi Sijia hadn’t followed.

Meng Jiang’s expression was eerily calm as she spoke, “What are you waiting for?”

Her gaze then landed directly on Qi Sijia’s arm.

That look—clear, penetrating, and impatient—was unmistakable.

So, she had noticed after all.

Qi Sijia sighed.

In truth, Qi Sijia was far from as composed as she appeared. Her body was taut, stretched to its limit, trembling even more noticeably than before.

At some point, Meng Jiang had picked up on her discomfort. Instead of ignoring it, she had found an excuse to intervene, swiftly pulling Qi Sijia away from the situation.

She had even considered the possibility of Qi Sijia being implicated, cutting through the mess to eliminate any chance of videos surfacing online that could smear her reputation.

At this thought, Qi Sijia stood up and turned her gaze toward Meng Jiang.

This was the first time since their reunion that Qi Sijia had truly looked at her.

Meng Jiang wasn’t dressed heavily—a body-hugging dress with a slit up to her calves, paired with a light-colored sweater.

The material of the base layer was unclear, but the off-shoulder design revealed the graceful curve of her neck, her delicate collarbones, and a glimpse of slender ankles.

The shawl draped loosely over her shoulders accentuated the faint, alluring silhouette of her figure.

There was no denying it—she was a woman who could outshine even the dimmest bar lights.

Setting aside her identity as an ex-girlfriend, Meng Jiang might not have been the best lover, but she was undoubtedly an excellent partner—someone who knew how to navigate social intricacies effortlessly, the kind of person others praised for making every interaction comfortable.

If she wanted to, she could put anyone at ease.

No matter how awkward and unforgettable their breakup five years ago had been, tonight, when everyone else assumed Qi Sijia was fine, it was Meng Jiang who had stepped in to help.

Qi Sijia took one last look and decided to stop resisting. She waved at Ye Qianqian, stiffly rose to her feet, and quickly walked over to Meng Jiang’s side, leaving the private room with her.

–

Outside the room, Qi Sijia didn’t head straight downstairs. She took a few steps toward the elevator.

After escorting Meng Jiang inside, she remained standing outside.

Under the bright lights, Qi Sijia’s complexion didn’t look great.

She let Meng Jiang enter the elevator first, and the attendant pressed the button for their floor.

Qi Sijia still didn’t step in. Standing at the elevator entrance, she looked up at Meng Jiang and said, “Thanks for tonight.”

“Is this how you thank people?”

Meng Jiang’s gaze fixed on Qi Sijia, who refused to come any closer. The warmth in her eyes faded bit by bit, and her lips curled into a humorless smile.

The atmosphere grew still. Given that the other person had helped her, Qi Sijia felt obliged to explain patiently, “I need to use the restroom.”

Though, admittedly, she was also trying to avoid her.

Meng Jiang’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh.”

The attendant beside them asked if they were going down. Meng Jiang neither confirmed nor denied it.

Qi Sijia couldn’t quite grasp Meng Jiang’s intentions. This woman, so polished in public, had a temper that wasn’t exactly mild—deeply calculating, her thoughts inscrutable.

However, Meng Jiang had one redeeming quality—her innate pride meant that if others didn’t want to associate with her, she wouldn’t give them a second glance for the rest of her life.

Seeing that Meng Jiang wasn’t particularly emotional, Qi Sijia took the hint and bid her goodbye.

She turned and headed toward the restroom, determined to splash some water on her face to ease the lingering effects of her social anxiety.

But just as the elevator doors were about to close, Meng Jiang suddenly thrust out her hand, her diamond-adorned fingers wedging between the doors before she leisurely stepped out.

As she passed Qi Sijia, Meng Jiang turned to look at her, eyes brimming with amusement. With a flirtatious toss of her long, wavy hair, she said, “Lead the way.”

Qi Sijia blinked. “What?”

“You know where the restroom is, don’t you?” Meng Jiang said. “I’m going to touch up my makeup.”

…

–

The first snowy night of early winter held none of the romance found in novels.

The snowflakes were small, melting into a drizzle of icy water that froze against the windowpanes.

The restroom window was slightly ajar, letting in a chill.

Qi Sijia quickly pulled on her mask, woolen hat, and wrapped her blue-and-white scarf three times around her neck, glancing at her reflection in the mirror above the sink.

As she took the elevator downstairs, Meng Jiang followed unhurriedly behind her.

“Do you know what you look like right now?”

A sudden, soft laugh brushed against her ear, warm breath ghosting over her skin.

Qi Sijia tugged at her hair. “What?”

“Like a bundled-up snowball—completely unrecognizable.” Meng Jiang smirked, her tone laced with disdain.

Qi Sijia shot her a look. “And you? Aren’t you going to disguise yourself?”

A public figure with zero self-awareness.

The elevator descended to the parking garage.

Meng Jiang shrugged. “No need.”

“But don’t they say obsessive fans in the entertainment industry specifically target people like you?” Qi Sijia hesitated, recalling a passing tabloid headline before cautiously adding, “Aren’t you afraid of being photographed…?”

The elevator was cramped. Meng Jiang turned slightly—she was a few centimeters shorter than Qi Sijia.

Her gaze lifted, the corners of her eyes tilting up with a hint of mischief.

Qi Sijia looked down just as Meng Jiang arched a brow, her smile effortlessly alluring. “Are you worried about me? Why would I be afraid?”

Qi Sijia thought for a moment, then answered honestly, “You might not be, but I am. So let’s go our separate ways. Stop following me.”

The momentarily eased atmosphere froze over again.

Meng Jiang studied her for a few seconds before speaking. “Why do you think I’m following you?”

Following someone could only mean she had questions to ask, things she wanted to know—or simply because she liked being around them.

Whatever the answer, Qi Sijia instinctively shied away. So she had led Meng Jiang in a wide circle, only to end up back where they started.

Belatedly realizing what Meng Jiang was getting at, Qi Sijia pressed her lips together and stayed silent.

Just then, the elevator doors opened, arriving at the underground parking lot.

Meng Jiang stepped out first, brushing past Qi Sijia to stand at the exit.

Just as Qi Sijia let out a quiet sigh of relief, Meng Jiang abruptly turned back.

With a smile, she said, “Earlier, you thanked me.”

Qi Sijia looked up, puzzled. “Hm?”

Meng Jiang dangled her car key fob in front of Qi Sijia, giving it a little shake. “I had a drink tonight.”

Qi Sijia didn’t dare respond.

Meng Jiang’s gaze held hers—the implication couldn’t be clearer.

Whenever she faced off against Meng Jiang, Qi Sijia knew her willpower was no match. So she didn’t torture herself further, breaking the silence with, “Where’s your driver?”

“You’re here,” Meng Jiang said, smiling. “I sent him home.”

Her words seemed to form a perfect loop with the earlier question.

An answer, delivered to Qi Sijia.

But it wasn’t just about Meng Jiang forcing herself to follow Qi Sijia tonight—simply for a ride.

There was a hint of deliberate familiarity in her tone, as if they had never been apart.

Qi Sijia froze, unable to decipher what Meng Jiang’s words, “You’re here,” truly meant.

Yet, deep down, she already sensed an overwhelming premonition.

Her voice lowered as she stood within the narrow confines of the elevator.

She called out, “Meng Jiang.”

Meng Jiang looked up. “?”

“Why do you think I’d still drive for you without hesitation, just like before?”

Their eyes met. Meng Jiang’s expression was innocent as she said to Qi Sijia, “Then shouldn’t I at least know the reason you’ve grown so distant?”

Qi Sijia was stunned. She hadn’t expected Meng Jiang to bring up the past five years in such a guileless tone.

It was as if she had seen right through Qi Sijia’s avoidance.

Even now, their rekindled interaction seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

But Qi Sijia fundamentally rejected any lingering ties with an ex.

“Because we broke up years ago,” Qi Sijia said calmly, meeting Meng Jiang’s gaze. After a pause, she added, “Anything else you want to know?”

Only then did Meng Jiang truly grasp just how stubborn Qi Sijia could be.

With that cold, restrained beauty, she expressionlessly cut off every one of Meng Jiang’s roundabout approaches.

Meng Jiang’s usual social finesse, honed from years of reading people, told her not to push further.

If she tore through this surface-level peace and revealed her true intentions, it would only mean jumping from one deadlock into another—one that might never be resolved.

Both were proud people. Even if she cared, Meng Jiang wouldn’t easily lower her head.

But tonight, after overhearing the last part of Qi Sijia’s conversation with Fu Chuchu, this stalemate needed an answer.

There were also things Meng Jiang needed to confirm—directly from Qi Sijia herself.

After standing in silence for nearly a minute,

Meng Jiang finally said, “There are some things I want to ask.”

Qi Sijia pressed her lips together, adjusting her glasses with the back of her hand.

Meng Jiang’s gaze followed the movement, lingering on the faint sheen of sweat on Qi Sijia’s smooth nose before pausing.

The question on the tip of her tongue stuck in her throat. She tugged at her lips but ultimately said nothing.

Instead, she turned and walked toward the parking lot—not as if she had started something only to abandon it halfway.

It was more like she was telling Qi Sijia: If you’re willing to talk, follow me. If not, we can go back to how things were.

The choice was Qi Sijia’s.

Just as the elevator doors were about to close again,

Qi Sijia understood. Meng Jiang must have heard her conversation with Fu Chuchu tonight.

Truthfully, there was no reason to avoid the topic.

Qi Sijia hadn’t brought it up because, as a socially anxious person, she didn’t know how. But if Meng Jiang wanted to ask,

she could lay everything out. As for who was right or wrong back then, Qi Sijia had long stopped caring. Now, she and Meng Jiang had grown apart. If not for this accidental reunion at the class gathering,

they would have been like two parallel lines—never meant to intersect, let alone reconcile.

Might as well lay it all out and return to their own paths.

Hands in her pockets, Qi Sijia stepped out of the elevator, catching sight of Meng Jiang’s retreating figure before following after her.

–

Given Qi Sijia’s personality, Meng Jiang hadn’t expected her to follow.

Walking alone through the empty parking lot,

Meng Jiang suddenly narrowed her eyes, thinking back to the words she had overheard tonight.

Chen Ting’s elder brother, Chen Yuanwang, was prosecuted in court five years ago for financial fraud.

To plug the financial gap and prevent the Chen family from collapsing in one fell swoop, Chen Ting sold all of Meng Xing’s valuable paintings and jewelry. That year, when a landscape painting personally drawn by Meng Xing’s late wife appeared at an auction during an art exhibition, Meng Xing flew into a rage.

His marriage to Chen Ting had been orchestrated entirely by the Chen family’s underhanded schemes.

After carrying Meng Jiang for ten months and giving birth, Chen Ting waited another three years before bringing the young child to a high-society soirée. She wept in front of Old Madam Meng, and the conservative elders of their social circle stepped in to pressure him.

That was how the marriage came to be.

In reality, everyone knew that from the day Chen Ting married into the wealthy Meng family, she had been living as a widow. Meng Xing wanted nothing to do with her, and Meng Jiang hadn’t inherited a single trace of the Chen family’s genes—her sharp wit, eloquence, and every mannerism were pure Meng Xing.

Perhaps out of psychological distortion, Chen Ting came to despise all the Mengs, including Meng Jiang, and spent her days scheming to funnel money and power back to her own family.

The constant quarrels escalated over time, but five years ago, she truly crossed Meng Xing’s bottom line.

In Meng Xing’s heart, his late wife’s memory outweighed everything else.

The moment Chen Ting dared to sell his first wife’s painting, Meng Xing threw divorce papers at her. His ultimatum back then was clear: either divorce or buy back every antique and painting in the house.

Panicked and desperate to save Chen Yuanwang, Chen Ting sold out Meng Jiang instead.

That year, Meng Jiang was actively preparing for her entertainment company, Emperor Entertainment. She had recruited all the top talents from Ning University and used the Meng family’s connections to establish her own power base in Ning City.

Good scripts, directors, teams, financial operations—even rising talents like Qi Sijia, a promising new screenwriter and director—she had them all in her grasp.

She had believed that even if she publicly came out with Qi Sijia, they would still have a vast world ahead, wielding capital to escape the Meng family’s control.

But then, to save her brother, Chen Ting signed a five-year indentured contract with the Shen family—in Meng Jiang’s name.

…

That was why Meng Jiang later discussed it with Qi Sijia—because the matter had reached the old madam.

Meng Jiang wanted freedom. She needed to leverage the Meng family’s influence to break free from the life sentence Chen Ting had imposed on her.

But the condition for the old madam’s help was that, while her wings were still unformed, she couldn’t publicly announce her relationship with Qi Sijia.

That was the agreed-upon plan—so why had she suddenly changed her mind mid-course?

–

Meng Jiang walked absentmindedly toward the parking spot, so distracted that she didn’t notice her shawl slipping off her shoulders until it fell. She bent down to pick it up.

As she straightened, a pair of slender hands suddenly gripped her shoulders, pulling her to the inner side of the sidewalk.

“Do you have a death wish?”

Qi Sijia’s cold, stunning face was frosty as she stared at her.

A car had just roared past, its tire marks imprinted right where Meng Jiang had been standing.

Meng Jiang looked up, momentarily dazed.

She wasn’t exactly the pious, virtuous type. From a very young age, she had understood that all human interactions were built on interests—no one was kind without reason, just as no one was cruel without cause.

But Qi Sijia was different.

She couldn’t remember exactly which day it was, but the location was Ning University’s morning running track.

“You want me to tutor you? What can you give me in return?” Meng Jiang had asked.

On that summer morning, the air was damp and cool against her forehead.

Qi Sijia glanced at her and said, “Wait here a moment.”

A short while later, she returned with a cup of water, a towel for Meng Jiang, and a sleek black hairpin.

“That’s it?”

Qi Sijia didn’t make a sound. She fumbled in her pocket but couldn’t scrounge up more than a few coins. Instead, her fingers brushed against a bank card, its plastic wrapping still nearly pristine.

That year, under the crisscrossing shadows of palm fronds, Meng Jiang had laughed, her voice trembling like flower petals in the breeze: “Well then, why don’t you just give yourself to me?”

It had been a joke, but Qi Sijia took it seriously. She thought for a long time, her low ponytail swaying slightly, a faint blush creeping up to her earlobes.

With utter sincerity, she replied, “No. If it were you, could you give yourself to me?”

Meng Jiang suspected she was making an innuendo.

Only later, after spending more time together, did Meng Jiang realize how genuine and deliberate that question had been. Qi Sijia never made promises lightly—once given, they were for life.

So Meng Jiang kept her word and gave herself to her.

–

Qi Sijia noticed Meng Jiang standing motionless by the car for a long time.

She reached out to hook her fingers around Meng Jiang’s handbag.

Qi Sijia’s hands were uniquely beautiful—a small red mole dotted her middle finger, set against cool, pale skin. Under the dim light, those 10cm-long fingers looked downright sinful.

Meng Jiang was staring at them in a daze when, the next second, that icy hand brushed past her chest, the back of it grazing just shy of contact.

Yet she still felt a fleeting warmth, dry and electric.

Meng Jiang jerked her head up just as the chain strap of her crossbody bag went slack.

“The car keys are in here, right?” Qi Sijia asked.

They knew each other too well. It wasn’t until she’d already retrieved the keys and handed the bag back that Qi Sijia realized how inappropriate her instinctive action was, given their current circumstances.

One of them stood there, socially awkward and expressionless; the other, lost in thought, equally devoid of emotion.

The awkwardness dissipated quickly. Only when Qi Sijia opened the driver’s door and glanced back did she notice Meng Jiang still rooted in place, deep in contemplation.

Assuming Meng Jiang—ever the demanding diva—was waiting for her to open the car door, Qi Sijia reluctantly circled to the rear.

“Get in.”

Meng Jiang’s brows twitched. She let out an unnatural hum, her gaze lingering on Qi Sijia’s hands before catching herself and cursing inwardly.

So damn provocative.