I Am the White Moonlight that the Former Movie Queen Secretly Loves - Chapter 35

Meimei’s psychological evaluation took three hours. When Jiang Jun brought the child out, her spirits were visibly low.

On the drive back to school, Qi Sijia tacitly refrained from speaking to Meng Jiang again, quietly listening as Meng Jiang chatted with the child. The conversation was filled with everyday questions, but it was clear Meng Jiang was concerned about the child’s emotional state.

When they arrived at the school, Meimei’s homeroom teacher was waiting at the gate. Meng Jiang stepped forward to exchange pleasantries with the teacher.

Qi Sijia glanced at the little girl crouching by the rear of the car, counting ants. She walked over and pulled a piece of candy from her pocket.

Carrying candy was a habit she’d had for years—something that suited her but wasn’t necessarily meant for others.

Gently placing the candy in the child’s palm, Qi Sijia said, “Eat it. It’ll make things sweeter.”

When Meng Jiang turned around, she saw Meimei hesitantly staring at the candy in her hand and took a look as well.

It was a fruit-flavored candy wrapped in colorful foil—tiny, like a miniature world of vibrant hues.

Qi Sijia had said that eating it would make the whole world sweet.

After the teacher led Meimei away, Meng Jiang’s gaze lingered on Qi Sijia’s face for a long moment before she finally composed herself. Feeling her stare was too obvious, she coughed and walked over to Qi Sijia.

She mentioned driving back to the counseling center to ask Jiang Jun about the evaluation results.

“Should I drop you off first?” she asked, though inwardly, she wasn’t keen on parting ways. There was an indescribable comfort in simply being together, even without words.

After a moment’s thought, she acted in a rather immature manner—reaching into her bag, pressing the power button to turn off her phone, then pretending to pull it out and claiming it had died. She asked Qi Sijia if she could help navigate.

Qi Sijia raised an eyebrow, unclear whether she saw through the ruse. Without confirming or denying, she leisurely walked to Meng Jiang’s car and waited for her to catch up. Then, with a sudden motion, she plucked the car keys from Meng Jiang’s palm and twirled them around her finger.

“Let’s go. I’m a little tired,” Qi Sijia said.

Meng Jiang froze for a few seconds before realizing what had happened. With a smile, she murmured, “Thank you.”

It was getting late, and most of the counseling center staff were preparing to leave. Jiang Jun’s office was still lit—he was waiting for Meng Jiang.

When she arrived, neither of them made any effort to exclude Qi Sijia from the conversation.

“Preliminary diagnosis suggests autism spectrum disorder comorbid with bipolar affective disorder,” Jiang Jun said.

Meng Jiang frowned. “Elaborate.”

“The child’s psychological issues likely date back at least five years. Intervention was delayed, and prolonged isolation has led to a series of cognitive impairments—self-awareness, behavioral cognition, life perception, and so on. I recommend consulting a specialist with stronger expertise in this field.”

Meng Jiang asked if Jiang Jun had any recommendations. He replied that foreign experts might be more effective than domestic ones, but securing an appointment with top-tier psychologists in the field was notoriously difficult.

“My level of access isn’t enough to book you a session with an internationally renowned expert,” Jiang Jun said before suddenly falling silent.

Following his gaze, Meng Jiang looked down the long hallway of the counseling center. Qi Sijia sat on a worn-out bench, her long black hair tied into a fishtail braid draped over her right shoulder.

Someone passed by her, but she kept her head slightly lowered, her eyes indifferent—as if the person didn’t exist.

Wearing a gas mask to school would have been odd, so she had on a black face mask covering her nose and mouth. From the visible features—her delicate brows and eyes—one could still glimpse her striking beauty. But her gaze was overwhelmingly cold.

Earlier, when talking about Meimei, Meng Jiang had a smile on her face. But now, the smile at her lips faded slightly as she subtly shifted her steps to block Jiang Jun’s scrutinizing gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“Your friend’s eyes resemble Meimei’s a little.”

Meng Jiang had noticed it the first time she saw Meimei.

“Is there a problem?”

“In psychology, conditions like autism, depression, bipolar disorder, and others are collectively referred to as mental illnesses. In reality, these psychological issues often converge and develop into depression, manifesting in similar ways—such as reluctance to speak, avoidance of communication, panic in crowds, delusions, and so on.”

Jiang Jun didn’t miss the change in Meng Jiang’s expression. He probed further, “Is she on medication?”

Meng Jiang didn’t know.

“Do you suspect Qi Sijia has depression?”

“My professional expertise isn’t sufficient for that,” Jiang Jun said. “I’d need to conduct a systematic evaluation to know, but your friend refused me.”

This time, Meng Jiang remained silent for a long while.

Jiang Jun tried to reassure her. “Verbal assessments aren’t always accurate. Her situation is different from Meimei’s. When she’s with you, I can tell her communication skills are normal and her thoughts are coherent. That doesn’t align with typical depressive symptoms.”

“Then your judgment must be wrong,” Meng Jiang insisted. “Qi Sijia has been like this for five years. She just doesn’t like talking.”

“Hopefully, it’s just my misperception,” Jiang Jun shrugged, watching the two of them leave.

–

The county didn’t have any five-star hotels. Meng Jiang, with her refined tastes, always brought a brand-new set of bedsheets whenever she visited.

But she only had one set. She glanced back at Qi Sijia and said tactfully, “The conditions here aren’t great—lots of mosquitoes, and the bedding isn’t clean. Without fresh linens, will you be uncomfortable?”

Qi Sijia nearly retorted, I’m not like you. She raised an eyebrow. “Why would I be uncomfortable? This is my grandmother’s hometown. I’ve probably been here more times than you.”

The offhand remark was meant to dismiss Meng Jiang’s attempt to share a room. Yet, as soon as the words left her mouth, both of them froze in unison.

A hint of amusement flickered in Meng Jiang’s eyes as she deliberately drawled, “What a coincidence. I have a junior who’s also from Nan County.”

Qi Sijia smiled back. “Really? What’s her name? Maybe I’ve heard of her.”

Meng Jiang’s smile deepened. As they reached the hotel lobby, surrounded by people, she didn’t hesitate to remove her mask, unconcerned about being recognized.

“You don’t seem surprised at all.”

Ignoring her teasing, Qi Sijia collected two room cards from the front desk and handed Meng Jiang hers. “You never hid it, after all.”

“Dropped hints so many times, went out of my way to give you my old phone number?” Meng Jiang said bluntly. “Do you still remember that number?”

Qi Sijia lowered her gaze. “I knew even earlier.”

Meng Jiang paused. “What?”

“That night in your car, when I was asleep, you played Huadan,” Qi Sijia admitted plainly, as if the revelation carried no weight—no awkwardness, no unresolved emotions between them.

This caught Meng Jiang off guard. They rode the elevator up in silence, and it wasn’t until the doors opened that Meng Jiang finally processed it.

She arched an eyebrow, scrutinizing Qi Sijia’s expression for any trace of misunderstanding. Finding none, she relaxed, as if a tacit understanding had been reached.

Her tone turned lighthearted. “Then tonight’s dinner together doesn’t count toward tomorrow’s invitation, right?”

After a long, exhausting day, Qi Sijia was feeling rather weary. She glanced sideways at Meng Jiang, initially wanting to say it was troublesome, but after a moment’s thought, she nodded instead. “Not really.”

She actually had something to say to Meng Jiang. They had both removed their masks, breaking through that layer of formality, because she wanted to give a heads-up—she was going abroad. It would have been inconsiderate to leave without a word, letting Meng Jiang keep coming all this way to deliver meals for nothing.

–

After a day of travel fatigue, Qi Sijia and Meng Jiang rested at the hotel until evening before heading out for a late-night snack.

Nan County didn’t have a bustling town center—just a short night market with a few scattered stalls. On the grid-patterned tricycles, there was fried rice, grilled squid, stinky tofu, and potstickers.

Qi Sijia glanced sideways and noticed Meng Jiang frowning at the street food drenched in soy sauce. She understood immediately—Meng Jiang couldn’t stomach it.

“How do you usually eat when you’re here?”

“Instant noodles,” Meng Jiang said. “Without chili oil.”

Qi Sijia didn’t have much of an appetite either. After walking around and finding nothing appealing, she said to Meng Jiang, “Alright, let’s go back and have instant noodles.”

But they never got to eat that instant noodles—Meimei had an emergency.

The school notified them that the child had developed a fever at school. Fortunately, she was discovered in time and rushed to the hospital, or things could have taken a dire turn.

Meimei’s parents had been working away from home for ten years without returning even once. Her grandparents, nearly seventy, couldn’t spare much attention for a little girl.

Late at night, with Meng Jiang in town, the teacher contacted her.

Snow was falling outside. Meng Jiang jumped into the driver’s seat, but Qi Sijia pulled her out.

“I’ll drive,” Qi Sijia urged. “Get in.”

Truth be told, Qi Sijia had noticed earlier that morning that Meng Jiang wasn’t familiar with the local roads. She probably usually had a driver when she came here.

Meng Jiang sat in the passenger seat, lost in thought, her gaze lowered as she unabashedly traced Qi Sijia’s profile with her peripheral vision.

“Qi Sijia, why are you so damn likable?”

Qi Sijia didn’t respond. The car remained steady, as if she had entered a state of deep focus.

–

When they arrived at the hospital, the doctor said the child was in the intensive care unit but was out of danger. However, she would continue to run a high fever through the night. Given the child’s special circumstances, they arranged for a private nurse—paid for by Meng Jiang, of course.

But before the doctor could finish explaining, the nurse frantically pressed the call button, summoning the on-duty doctors and nurses.

Meimei had woken up. At the sight of the needle, she screamed, thrashing wildly and smashing all the IV fluids.

Qi Sijia watched as Meng Jiang handled the situation—compensating for damages where needed, mediating with the staff where necessary.

Finally, when she entered Meimei’s room, Meng Jiang didn’t scold the child at all. She simply patted the little girl’s head.

“It’s okay,” Meng Jiang told her. “Don’t be afraid.”

The child’s eyes were dark with fear and coldness, but under Meng Jiang’s soothing, she gradually calmed from the terror of the unfamiliar environment. Ten minutes later, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

–

In the early hours of the morning, worried that Meimei might have another episode, the doctor gave her a sedative.

Meng Jiang leaned against the windowsill at the far left end of the hospital corridor, letting the cold wind blow over her. Qi Sijia pushed open the door and walked over.

Seeing her long, curly hair tossed wildly by the wind, Qi Sijia closed the door behind her and said, “Don’t you find it exhausting, taking care of a child like this? She might have another outburst and scratch you again at any moment.”

Meng Jiang was silent for a while before answering, “No. The year I was at my lowest, I couldn’t break free from a role.”

“Which one?”

“The Breakup.”

Meng Jiang had starred in numerous films, but Qi Sijia had never watched any of them. However, she was familiar with the title of this particular movie. Two years ago, this film had nearly propelled the young actress Meng Jiang to the pinnacle of global stardom.

The media had covered it extensively, and it seemed the entire nation had praised the heights this film had achieved.

“Hard to believe, right? It’s actually the worst performance of my career,” Meng Jiang said, her expression unreadable. Perhaps the conversation had reached a point where emotions surfaced, and she asked Qi Sijia, “Do you know why?”

Qi Sijia played along. “Why?”

“Because I was playing myself—my breakup with my first love five years ago.”

There was no good response to that. Qi Sijia fell silent, her gaze drifting to the stretch of night behind Meng Jiang.

Fortunately, Meng Jiang was adept at steering conversations when they turned awkward. She quickly changed the subject. “For an actor, being unable to detach from a role is terrifying. On the third day of the Lunar New Year, my driver brought me to Nan County. Everything looked desolate—I couldn’t find even a glimmer of light in the sea of people. I wandered like a ghost through this small county until I finally met Meimei.”

Qi Sijia asked, “So you decided to sponsor her?”

Surprisingly, Meng Jiang shook her head. “No.”

“The kid threw a rock at my head. Maybe because I didn’t react, she went home and brought back a piece of candy, placing it in my palm.”

Meng Jiang did all the talking while Qi Sijia listened patiently without interrupting. Then, Meng Jiang suddenly turned to her, locking eyes. “That candy snapped me out of the role.”

Qi Sijia felt her throat tighten.

“Aren’t you going to ask why?” Meng Jiang pressed. When Qi Sijia simply looked at her without speaking, Meng Jiang chuckled softly. “Fine, I’ll tell you next time.”

–

By the time they returned to the hotel after the chaotic day, they realized they hadn’t even had a sip of water. Unlike the town, the small county had no convenience stores open at this hour.

Meng Jiang didn’t want to drink tap water, nor did she want to seek out Qi Sijia just yet. Because Qi Sijia had shown no intention of stepping into her world to ask about the significance of that candy.

It made Meng Jiang realize that even though they had reached this seemingly harmonious and ambiguous stage, it was all just an illusion.

Qi Sijia controlled the pace—she was too hard to chase. It hadn’t been like this before.

Meng Jiang sighed inwardly and resisted the urge to knock on Qi Sijia’s door for help.

But she had talked too much tonight without drinking any water. Her skin would turn dull, and her throat felt like it was coated with sand. After enduring it for half an hour, Meng Jiang surrendered.

She changed into sneakers and knocked on the door across the hall.

Qi Sijia had just finished showering, her body still damp. She wore a white, loose bathrobe, her long hair dripping water that trickled down her milk-pale skin.

Her hair cascaded to the curve of her waist, smooth and silky, giving off an ethereal, cool elegance. “Yes?”

“Do you have any bottled water?” Meng Jiang tried not to look at the slender, straight legs beneath Qi Sijia’s robe.

Each hotel room came with a complimentary bottle of Nongfu Spring. Meng Jiang had intended to borrow a full bottle, but when Qi Sijia handed it over, it was only half-full.

“This is all I have,” Qi Sijia said. Her eyes, grayish under the dim light, had irises that occupied two-thirds of the space, lending her a detached air.

Unfazed by her aloofness, Meng Jiang raised a brow at the bottle. “This is the one you drank from.”

“If you can’t stand it, boil it to sterilize it before drinking,” Qi Sijia suggested.

Her initially pure offer of help carried an unintended implication to Meng Jiang’s ears, who curled her lips in response.

Snatching the half-empty water bottle, she deliberately brought it to her lips in front of Qi Sijia, drinking slowly. Her lips, already red, glistened with moisture under the dim light, exuding a seductive allure.

Qi Sijia watched for a moment before slamming the door shut.

–

The minor incident from the previous night didn’t create lasting tension between Meng Jiang and Qi Sijia.

Early the next morning, Da Ju’s ashes were buried in the ground.

After handling the donation arrangements, Meng Jiang stopped by the hospital to visit Mei Mei.

Jiang Jun mentioned the need for immediate psychological intervention for his sister, ideally with an expert if possible.

Meng Jiang agreed to look into it. Unexpectedly, on the way back, Qi Sijia pulled a business card from her bag and handed it to Meng Jiang.

“Mike is a top psychologist in the field, but he’s retired now. You’ll need to schedule an appointment in advance.”

Meng Jiang’s gaze flickered over the half-empty white pill bottle in Qi Sijia’s bag before she lowered her eyes and said, “Jiang Jun mentioned him—he’s highly regarded. I’m surprised you know him.”

Qi Sijia shielded her eyes from the harsh sunlight streaming through the car window. “Mike is a friend of Ye Qianqian.”

Meng Jiang nodded. “Thanks. You’ve been a huge help.”

The latter half of the journey was smooth, with Meng Jiang taking over the wheel while Qi Sijia dozed off. As they neared Ningcheng, the fuel gauge dipped low.

Meng Jiang pulled into the nearest gas station, parked, and fetched a blanket from the trunk to drape over Qi Sijia.

Just as she leaned into the car, her wrist was suddenly seized mid-air, gripped with enough force to leave crescent-shaped marks from Qi Sijia’s nails.

Meng Jiang hissed in pain, inhaling sharply.

She looked up. “Qi Sijia?”

After a long pause, Qi Sijia finally released her, though her expression remained icy.

She couldn’t tolerate anyone near her while sleeping—not even Da Ju.

Coming to her senses and noticing the reddened marks on Meng Jiang’s wrist, Qi Sijia murmured an apology.

She stepped out to buy bandages from the convenience store, but Meng Jiang declined with a smile, saying it didn’t hurt anymore.

Then, hesitating, Meng Jiang glanced at Qi Sijia. “Earlier… when you woke up, your eyes looked…”

Qi Sijia asked, “What?”

“Mei Mei.” Meng Jiang quickly corrected herself. “Sorry, I must’ve been mistaken.”

Qi Sijia replied, “It’s fine.”

The car started again, and neither brought up the topic for the rest of the ride.

As they pulled up to the development zone’s entrance, Meng Jiang squinted and asked, “When are you planning to move?”

The furniture and renovations at Jinbiao Mingting were complete, and Meng Jiang assumed Qi Sijia would relocate soon.

Instead, Qi Sijia said, “Not for a while. I’m going abroad soon.”

The smile faded from Meng Jiang’s lips. The car doors remained locked, and through the rearview mirror, she caught Qi Sijia’s impatient gaze.

Finally, she shattered the fragile peace.

“Because of me?” Meng Jiang asked. “Am I bothering you?”

“Is that what you think I meant?” Qi Sijia countered.

“I don’t know what to think.” Meng Jiang lowered her eyes, twisting open a bottle cap and taking a sip of cold water. “Honestly, if you’re really uncomfortable, you don’t have to go to such lengths. Just say the word, and I’ll keep my distance.”

Qi Sijia let out a humorless laugh. She hadn’t planned to explain, but facing Meng Jiang’s downcast eyes, she relented.

She explained, “The decision to go abroad has nothing to do with you. It was planned long ago. There are some things I need to take care of.”

Qi Sijia didn’t elaborate on what those things were to Meng Jiang.

But after a moment’s thought, she added, “I made this decision before I realized you were the penthouse owner.”

After a long pause, Meng Jiang rolled down the car window for some air. “How long will you be gone?”

Qi Sijia considered the question and answered honestly, “I’m not sure.”

Perhaps sensing her evasiveness, Meng Jiang tossed out another question: “Where?”

This time, Qi Sijia answered plainly: “Chicago.”

What a coincidence—she was heading there next month too.

Meng Jiang let out an “Oh,” then said meaningfully, “The U.S.?”

Qi Sijia nodded.

Even though Qi Sijia was leaving without much notice, the fact that her destination was the U.S.—whether by coincidence or fate—made Meng Jiang’s expression soften slightly. “Were you just explaining yourself to me?”

Qi Sijia gave her a look that said she could interpret it however she liked, then tilted her head and asked, “Can I get out of the car now?”

“Take care,” Meng Jiang agreed readily.

She didn’t know that Qi Sijia was going to the U.S. to see a psychologist. Nor did she expect that this trip would truly mend the rift between them. After all, there was a five-year gap separating them.

Five years apart—in truth, Meng Jiang felt she hardly knew Qi Sijia anymore.

She didn’t know what had happened to Qi Sijia in those five years, nor why someone who looked the same as before would now wear a gas mask in public.

Even stranger, just half a month ago, Qi Sijia’s eccentric outfits and self-isolating behavior had seemed downright bizarre.

All of this would take time to understand. Demanding an immediate reconciliation would be unfair to both of them.

Still, emotions clouded her judgment. Meng Jiang wasn’t sure whether Qi Sijia’s decision aligned with her own wishes.

Opening the car door, she watched Qi Sijia’s retreating figure until it disappeared. Reluctant to let go of the connection they’d shared these past two days, she impulsively called out, “Qi Sijia.”

Qi Sijia turned back. “Yes?”

For a moment, it felt like they were back in the throes of their passionate romance, reluctant to part. Meng Jiang reined in her emotions and asked leisurely, “Are you still treating me to dinner tonight?”

“Consider it an apology for scaring me earlier.”

One thing Meng Jiang admired about Qi Sijia was that she always knew how to navigate conversations gracefully, using words to bridge social gaps.

Since she had planned to invite Meng Jiang to dinner anyway, the request left no room for refusal.

Qi Sijia lifted her gaze and agreed straightforwardly, “See you tonight.”