I Am the White Moonlight that the Former Movie Queen Secretly Loves - Chapter 27

The entire time, it was Qi Sijia who did the talking, while Meng Jiang watched her unblinkingly.

Until the moment when someone who clearly suffered from severe social anxiety—someone who had never known how to reject others, who was quiet and silent to an almost unsettling degree—tore open a crack in her composure and laid her resolve bare for all to see.

Only then did Meng Jiang snap out of the suffocating silence of simple rejection and plunge into another abyss, one that transcended life and death and had nothing to do with forgiveness.

In the howling cold wind of the night outside the window, she finally felt a wave of overwhelming helplessness crash down on her.

Meng Jiang’s voice carried a trembling calm as she looked at Qi Sijia and said, “I only learned about these things today. I was wrong to go back on my word.”

Qi Sijia, who had always believed herself to be an impenetrable fortress, immune even to a thousand arrows piercing her heart, found herself unable to utter the harsh words she had prepared in that instant.

“Five years ago, when you were fighting tooth and nail against your family, I broke up with you.” Meng Jiang lowered her eyelids, her dark phoenix eyes deliberately softening into a distant curve, one that wouldn’t make Qi Sijia tense. She asked gently, “Are you telling me this because you want me to atone for my sins?”

Qi Sijia answered frankly, “No.”

Meng Jiang: “Then why?”

“It’s…”

She hesitated instinctively, perhaps sensing that voicing the next words outright would, in the world of adults, lead to an irreparable rift. After a moment of hesitation, she finally reined in her emotions.

Her voice hollow, she said, “It’s because I’ve let go.”

The air was deathly still. Meng Jiang lifted her gaze, as if searching for even a hint of pretense in Qi Sijia’s eyes, but she found nothing.

After saying those words, Qi Sijia’s gaze was serene and forgiving.

She was bidding farewell to the past with such ease.

Even though she was eloquent and didn’t agree with Qi Sijia’s flippant claim that “letting go” could erase everything, Meng Jiang swallowed the countless words in her heart and patiently replied, “Since you’ve let go, I’ll be selfish and take it as a sign that I still have a chance…”

Meng Jiang, ever patient, handed Qi Sijia a glass of warm water.

Qi Sijia took it, finally realizing that her rejections held little weight with Meng Jiang.

In truth, words were futile. She had always thought cutting ties cleanly was the easiest thing in the world, but Meng Jiang, for reasons unknown, refused to take the hint. No matter how hard Qi Sijia tried to sever the past, the other woman wove silken threads around her.

It was like a negotiation where the upper hand had returned to Meng Jiang, while Qi Sijia had already thrown all her chips onto the table.

She stared silently at Meng Jiang, unsure what leverage she still had to force anyone away from her.

Because the one she should have hated was herself—for choosing to fight against her equally stubborn and unyielding family at such an immature age, leading to an irreparable outcome.

No one was at fault. The fault lay with love.

For five years, neither Qi Jun nor Wei Yunfang had allowed Qi Sijia to forgive herself, or anyone else.

Only this time, with Big Orange on the verge of death and the building slated for demolition, the last remnants of warmth were about to vanish.

After much deliberation, Qi Sijia had finally decided to step forward.

But then she met the tenants of this building, witnessed the considerate and well-rounded standards of the top-floor owner, and gradually came to realize—perhaps her understanding had been wrong all along.

If all the love she had known in the past was a mistake, then what about the love her grandmother had given her?

Before the old woman passed away, she left a will, bequeathing this small building to Qi Sijia.

The exact words of the will were: “Unless she herself is willing to leave, none of you can force her out.”

The old woman had spent her entire life teaching Qi Sijia about love and tolerance.

It was the same standard by which she conducted herself within these walls.

As a result, though the tenants in this building came from different walks of life—each with distinct personalities, professions, and ages—without exception, they all shared the same love and tolerance as Granny Qi.

Aunt Gui on the first floor was a cleaner.

She was meticulous about cleanliness, keeping the narrow hallway on the first floor spotless. She placed a bucket by the entrance to collect noodle soup waste and would walk five minutes without complaint to dispose of the greasy contents, never expecting anything in return.

Anyone who saw her would praise her as capable and kind-hearted. But in truth, Aunt Gui’s chronic illness wasn’t just ordinary pneumonia—it was lung cancer.

This ordinary, middle-aged woman, tormented by illness, showed no trace of sickness on her face. Hardworking and optimistic, she raised her daughter to be just as bright and cheerful. They never owed anyone favors; even when finances were tight, they would repay others within their means.

Uncle Mo on the second floor was a former traditional Chinese medicine practitioner whose license had been revoked. Over twenty years ago, due to a medical incident, he lost his right to practice medicine. The transition from pride to a life of quiet endurance took only a day.

Yet this never broke the old man’s spirit. For ten years, he lived here, offering free medical consultations to every impoverished person in need.

The third floor was home to the “Cat Boy.” His parents were unknown, and he was reclusive yet simple-hearted, suffering from severe asthma that required him to avoid furry animals for life.

Yet, with unwavering courage, he devoted his young life to caring for abandoned creatures.

The fifth floor had once been home to Granny Qi, an elderly woman who lived alone with her granddaughter.

Occasionally, she would join the mahjong games downstairs, deliberately letting others win just for the joy of it.

For ten years, the rent in this building never increased. She charged only three hundred yuan, which was why the building was also known as “Three Hundred House”—a place that carried an era’s worth of love and being loved.

Each person seemed like an independent individual, yet when connected, they revealed countless intertwined bonds.

Qi Sijia hadn’t understood the purpose behind Granny Qi’s final will until she got to know the tenants in this building and gradually grasped its deeper meaning.

At home, there was a Bible that the old woman had often flipped through.

On the title page, she had scrawled in ink, in crooked English:

Love is patient, love is kind, love is not self-seeking, love never fails.

“I want to thank my grandmother. With the latter half of her life—even her final words—she poured all her companionship and leniency into teaching me about tolerance and love. I probably hated you quite a bit the year before we broke up, but now I don’t. Loving you was a chapter in my life. You’re outstanding, and my taste was good, so I’ve never had reason to regret it. But the truth is, I don’t love you anymore—not because of right or wrong, but because at this stage, we’re just not right for each other… Do you understand?”

Qi Sijia’s tone was almost merciless.

Meng Jiang’s gaze drifted from her expressionless eyes down to her nose, chin, shoulders, and finally to those beautiful, long hands resting casually on the olive-green sofa.

I understand. But so what?

She hadn’t seen those messages—that was her mistake, and there was no clear explanation for it. Even if she tried to explain, it wouldn’t change Qi Sijia’s state of mind because she had already let go.

But no one said that just because you were wrong, you couldn’t start over. For Meng Jiang, liking someone to the point of physical intimacy was rare.

Meng Jiang withdrew her gaze and nodded, superficially compliant as she replied, “Got it.”

“If you don’t like me, then you don’t. I’m not trying to pursue you.”

“Then why did you say you wanted a chance?” Qi Sijia’s brow twitched, her expression stiffening.

“Didn’t you say it yourself? You’ve moved on. I just want a chance to clear things up between us.”

Meng Jiang lowered her eyes and asked nonchalantly, “What else? Should I like you? Did boiling you a bowl of noodles fry your brain or something?”

“It’s been five years since we broke up. You know what kind of person I am. If I really liked someone, I wouldn’t go for a player—especially one who has zero interest in me.”

Qi Sijia truly didn’t know what to say. They knew each other too well. Meng Jiang had never been one to force things, nor would she ever casually develop feelings for someone who played fast and loose with emotions.

Qi Sijia checked every box on that list of taboos.

So there was nothing wrong with Meng Jiang’s words.

Qi Sijia stared at her expressionlessly. “Then what do you want?”

“Can’t you tell? I’m asking for your opinion—to be friends with you for now. So that at the next class reunion, we don’t have to awkwardly avoid each other like strangers. That would just make us both look bad.”

Leaning back on the sofa, her phoenix eyes narrowed with a hint of charm, she spoke in a disarmingly earnest tone. “Let’s each take a step back. If you think of something you want, wait until I’ve made up for my mistakes before we talk about never seeing each other again. After all, what happened between us back then really was my fault. From now on, I’ll always owe you a favor.”

Meng Jiang’s tone was composed.

Qi Sijia thought it over and couldn’t find a single reason to refute her. She had moved on, but Meng Jiang was still hung up on her own past mistakes. Her original intention had been to use those words as leverage to reject Meng Jiang.

Instead, Meng Jiang had turned them into bargaining chips.

Even if she wanted no further entanglement—let alone some clichéd, love-conquers-all reunion—she truly couldn’t win this argument. Nor did she have the right to dictate someone else’s feelings.

Qi Sijia pressed her lips together, neither agreeing nor refusing. “Do you think, if my next girlfriend found out that my ex and I were still friends, she’d be okay with that?”

“Isn’t that what I’m testing?”

Qi Sijia: “?”

Meng Jiang tugged at her crimson lips and let out an unamused laugh. “You like Ye Qianqian, right? Coincidentally, I happen to be friends with her. Let me see if I can get her to accept you having a female friend like me. How about that?”

Qi Sijia fell into thought: “…”

After a dazed pause, she replied hesitantly, “You don’t have to humiliate yourself like this.”

“Then let me suffer a little humiliation at your hands.” Meng Jiang answered. Seeing Qi Sijia frown, she smoothly changed the subject. “Can I borrow a shirt?”

“What for?”

Meng Jiang tugged at the evening gown she was wearing and said innocently, “To shower.”

–

The bathroom door in the three-bedroom apartment was broken.

The unavoidable sound of running water seeped into her ears.

Qi Sijia found it all rather amusing. She couldn’t understand how someone as socially anxious as her had ended up miserably failing to kick Meng Jiang out of her home.

But she finally confirmed that Meng Jiang truly didn’t like her. The glamorous and mature actress, who appeared poised in public, was actually full of flirtatious banter.

Earlier, what had unsettled Qi Sijia was likely the way Meng Jiang’s overly familiar teasing triggered a sense of physical unease. Setting that aside, it seemed there really was no reason for Meng Jiang to like her.

As Qin Xiaofang once put it: “In this entire world, Qi Sijia and Meng Jiang are the last two people who could ever fall in love. One hundred percent safe.”

Indeed.

Qi Sijia adjusted her glasses with the back of her hand, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor, her neck stiff.

After some thought, since things were already laid bare—they were just casual friends at best—there was no need to force herself. She simply pulled out a nightgown from the wardrobe.

Her home had no shortage of rooms, and Qi Sijia’s bedroom had a small ensuite bathroom. Inside, she had placed an oversized bathtub. She connected a hose to the sink, filled the tub with water, plucked a slightly withered rose, scattered its petals on the surface, and turned off the tap once the water reached the brim.

Outside, the creak of the shared bathroom door echoed through the living room. Qi Sijia was already undressing, moving as naturally as if the sight of a stunning woman—wearing only an oversized shirt that barely covered her thighs, her damp hair clinging to her back—wasn’t even there.

Meng Jiang swept her long hair aside, lips curving unconsciously as she turned her exquisitely alluring face toward Qi Sijia’s bedroom.

The woman inside was smoothly removing the last piece of her lingerie before stepping into the tub with a splash.

Steam curled in the bathroom, offering glimpses of toned abs, long slender legs, and the sharp lines of her waist, half-hidden by damp, cool brown hair.

Meng Jiang’s heart skipped a beat.

The orange tabby meowed at her bare toes, and Meng Jiang lowered her gaze, shifting uncomfortably.

If she didn’t know Qi Sijia so well, she might have thought the other woman shared the same intentions.

But they had once been inseparable first loves—intimate in every way.

Qi Sijia had known nothing back then; every first had been taught by Meng Jiang.

Despite her reserved appearance, she was fierce in bed—unyielding, yet prone to tears.

At her core, she was unflinchingly honest. When she liked someone, even sitting too close would make her ears burn.

But when she didn’t, she truly didn’t.

Her indifference was absolute, as if Meng Jiang were no different from the cat at her feet.

Leaning against the doorframe, Meng Jiang hesitated, her eyes restless. Heat prickled under her skin as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “So…”

“Go ahead.” Qi Sijia lifted an arm, soap suds trailing along her skin.

Meng Jiang pressed her tongue against her teeth and enunciated slowly, “You really don’t see me as a woman at all.”

Qi Sijia glanced at her, gaze clear and detached, taking in Meng Jiang’s barely covered figure.

“Then you can leave and come back after I’m done.”

Meng Jiang: “…”

For a moment, she felt absurdly like she’d backed herself into a corner. Qi Sijia no longer regarded her as a woman.

Accepting that fact, Meng Jiang lowered her lashes, listening to the sound of water in Qi Sijia’s room. Unable to resist, she turned away.

At her level, she couldn’t bring herself to play the friend one moment and climb into someone’s bathtub the next.

Her smile faded as she turned silently toward the guest room.