I Am the White Moonlight that the Former Movie Queen Secretly Loves - Chapter 4

Ye Qianqian arrived just in time—the tow truck had come.

 

 

Qi Sijia stepped out of the shared bike and stood in the rain, holding a rusted umbrella. Strands of her hair clung to her cheeks, and the triple-layered black mask covering her mouth was soaked through, dripping with rainwater.

 

 

Yet she still kept it on.

 

 

Avoiding the tow truck driver’s gaze, Qi Sijia briefly confirmed the phone number with him. Midway through, she took out a bottle of pills, turned away, and swallowed one.

 

 

Ye Qianqian pulled up beside her and rolled down the window. “Get in, quick.”

 

 

Recognizing her, Qi Sijia swiftly slipped into the passenger seat.

 

 

“Whose car is this?” Qi Sijia asked casually, her gold-rimmed glasses covered in raindrops, blurring her vision. She slowly took them off.

 

 

“Mine,” Ye Qianqian replied, tossing her a tissue before grabbing a fresh towel from the glove compartment and handing it over.

 

 

Accepting it, Qi Sijia removed her cap and began drying her hair. “What about my Cullinan?”

 

 

“Relax, it’s still collecting dust in the garage,” Ye Qianqian said disdainfully. “Honestly, I suggest your dad put more thought into birthday gifts next time. Is a Cullinan even suitable for a girl? It’s bulky, the color doesn’t appeal to me at all—my Lamborghini is way better.”

 

 

Qi Sijia’s expression remained indifferent, though her tone was slightly lighter than when she spoke to outsiders. “Feel free to say that to Boss Qi in person. Maybe he’ll put more effort into gifts next time. Or fire his assistant—who knows, his taste might improve.”

 

 

Clearly, Qi Sijia wasn’t keen on discussing Qi Jun.

 

 

Tucking her short bob neatly behind her ears, Ye Qianqian casually changed the subject. “How’s your social anxiety treatment going?”

 

 

Qi Sijia sighed and shook her head.

 

 

She used to have mild social anxiety—nothing too severe. She was just quiet, didn’t like talking much, but could handle moderate social interactions and survive in crowded places.

 

 

But five years ago, after that incident, she could no longer stay in crowded settings for long.

 

 

The problem was, she refused hypnotherapy, leaving doctors with no solution.

 

 

For five years, Qi Sijia shut herself away in an old house in the development zone, abandoning her innate talent for screenwriting. Even when her former professor from the U.S. called, she rarely participated in scriptwriting projects. She didn’t attend a single Qi family gathering either.

 

 

Ye Qianqian had spent these years worrying over her, thinking it was such a waste.

 

 

Back in college, Qi Sijia had already written scripts like Earth’s Destruction, which premiered at the Berlin Film Festival in 2018. Her English name was hailed as a rising star in the international screenwriting scene.

 

 

But no one knew what exactly happened afterward. The next time they met, Qi Sijia’s social anxiety had worsened, and she never touched a script again.

 

 

None of their friends knew about Qi Sijia’s past achievements, but Ye Qianqian did. She couldn’t help wanting to persuade her, but over the years, unless Qi Sijia was willing to seek treatment, no amount of advice would work.

 

 

With a resigned sigh, Ye Qianqian said, “Alright, fine. I’ve heard that fighting fire with fire works for social anxiety. Kid, why don’t you come back to the industry? Meet more people—I’ll be here for you.”

 

 

She spoke earnestly.

 

 

Qi Sijia wiped her gold-rimmed glasses clean and put them back on, shaking her head in refusal.

 

 

Her nose wasn’t overly sharp—just the right height, with a delicate bridge. Long fingers rested on the frames.

 

 

Tilting her head, Ye Qianqian happened to catch Qi Sijia pushing her glasses up with a finger.

 

 

 

On the pale, cool skin of her left middle finger, a tiny mole like a speck of cinnabar was practically an invitation to touch.

 

 

Ye Qianqian froze for a long moment before slamming the accelerator, wishing she could push it past eighty.

 

 

Qi Sijia had no choice but to remind her to step aside and let her drive instead.

 

 

The car fell silent as Ye Qianqian lowered her head, lost in thought.

 

 

Social anxiety made one acutely sensitive to others’ emotions.

 

 

After hesitating for several minutes, Qi Sijia awkwardly asked, “Have you been dating someone younger recently? The way you call them ‘little sister’ or ‘kid’—don’t call me that.”

 

 

“Broke up ages ago,” Ye Qianqian replied absentmindedly. “Huh, how did you know?”

 

 

Qi Sijia: “You’ve called me that several times. It sounds nice, but don’t do it again. My girlfriend might misunderstand.”

 

 

Ye Qianqian lowered her eyes: “…”

 

 

Seeing her fall silent again, Qi Sijia reminded her, “Fasten your seatbelt.”

 

 

–

 

In the parking garage.

 

 

After repeated requests from Qi Sijia, Miss Ye reluctantly agreed to stay cooped up in the car.

 

 

“After it’s over, you have to bring her by my car so I can take a look,” Ye Qianqian insisted. “I’ll vet her for you.”

 

 

Qi Sijia genuinely didn’t understand why Ye Qianqian would waste her spa time to meet her girlfriend, but knowing Ye Qianqian’s stubborn nature, she had no choice but to agree.

 

 

So she nodded earnestly, “Okay.”

 

 

Huaqing Garden was a teahouse with a tranquil ambiance, its design reminiscent of an old courtyard estate.

 

 

Two brass ring handles adorned the antique-style double doors, while a gilded plaque in Song script hung overhead—Huaqing Garden.

 

 

Inside, small bridges arched over flowing water, and the landscaping featured plum blossoms, orchids, bamboo, and chrysanthemums. A three-story bamboo pavilion stood by the river, a favorite spot for tea connoisseurs seeking elegance and serenity.

 

 

Perhaps because Qi Sijia was dressed too casually, the server in traditional Tang-style attire led her directly to the first-floor hall.

 

 

Fortunately, each tea room was separated by a folding screen. At this hour, only a few tables were occupied on the first floor, their conversations muffled by the landscape screens—though the voices were still audible.

 

 

Qi Sijia pressed her lips together. She would have much preferred a private room upstairs.

 

 

“Do you have private rooms?”

 

 

The question lingered on her tongue for three full rounds before she met the server’s smiling dark eyes.

 

 

Social interactions with strangers made her deeply uncomfortable.

 

 

Qi Sijia didn’t feel like speaking. With an indifferent expression, she tugged her black mask higher and silently took her seat.

 

 

“What tea would you like, miss?”

 

 

“Plain water.”

 

 

Server: “…”

 

 

–

 

Shu Ran was thirty-five minutes late.

 

 

Qi Sijia didn’t leave, even though she was already feeling uneasy. She refilled her water twice, but there was still no sign of her.

 

 

She could only pull out her phone and leave a brief thank-you in the comments section for her top patron, “Rich and Radiant.”

 

 

Because she kept her head down, she didn’t notice the server’s increasingly disdainful glances.

 

 

It wasn’t until the coquettishly dressed Shu Ran finally sat across from her that the server’s gaze finally shifted away.

 

 

As Shu Ran took her seat, a commotion erupted at the entrance—likely some celebrity had arrived. Even the server who had been lingering behind their screen rushed over, visibly excited.

 

 

Despite the stir, neither Qi Sijia nor Shu Ran looked up.

 

 

Qi Sijia was too busy steadying herself with deep breaths as the crowd grew, even if no eyes were directly on her.

 

 

Shu Ran, meanwhile, was busy mustering the energy to deliver a verbal slap.

 

 

Taking a deep breath, Qi Sijia cut straight to the chase: “Did you have something to say to me?”

 

 

“Say it quickly. I need to leave soon.”

 

 

Her head remained lowered, her tone impatient and dismissive.

 

 

 

Shu Ran’s opening line got stuck in her throat, and she couldn’t help rolling her eyes in annoyance.

 

 

“Are you going home?” Shu Ran asked.

 

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

Qi Sijia noticed that Shu Ran’s eyes looked unusually large today, her features lacking their usual sweetness, instead carrying a somewhat fierce and twisted expression.

 

 

Blinking, Qi Sijia thought she might have imagined it.

 

 

Before she could take a closer look, she saw Shu Ran pull a cigarette from her bag, pinching it between slender fingers.

 

 

Qi Sijia frowned. “Smoking is bad for your health.”

 

 

She pushed a teacup toward Shu Ran. “Have some tea instead.”

 

 

Shu Ran sneered. “No thanks. Sitting with you kills my appetite. Let’s get to the point—I came here to break up with—”

 

 

Before she could finish, the commotion near the entrance suddenly grew louder, the crowd now just fifty meters away from their table.

 

 

Screams interrupted their conversation.

 

 

“Ahhh! Jiang Jiang, look over here!”

 

 

“Oh my god, it’s really her!”

 

 

“Miss Meng, hello! I’m from the Beicheng branch of the Meng Group—you’re even more stunning in person than on screen!”

 

 

…

 

 

Qi Sijia and Shu Ran instinctively turned toward the noise.

 

 

Standing at the center of the crowd was none other than Meng Jiang, surrounded by admirers.

 

 

Under the lights, she wore a long dress, her coat draped over her wrist.

 

 

Her phoenix-like eyes swept over the room, exuding an air of poised elegance.

 

 

The teahouse buzzed with excitement.

 

 

Qi Sijia’s gaze inadvertently drifted toward her. Despite being separated by several landscape screens—well out of Meng Jiang’s line of sight—it was as if Meng Jiang had eyes in the back of her head. She suddenly turned, her phoenix eyes locking onto Qi Sijia’s with a knowing smile.

 

 

Qi Sijia: “…”

 

 

Before she could react, Meng Jiang seemed to recognize her, a flicker of surprise flashing in her eyes. Then, with deliberate grace, she pivoted and strode confidently toward Qi Sijia’s table.

 

 

With a faint smile, she called out softly, “Qi Sijia.”

 

 

“It really is you!”

 

 

Qi Sijia’s face remained wooden, her breath tightening. She took a sip of tea, saying nothing—partly because she had nothing to say to Meng Jiang, and partly because the crowd made her heart feel heavy.

 

 

Of course, Meng Jiang had no idea what she was thinking. She stopped beside Qi Sijia’s table, blocking any chance of escape, and extended a polite hand—whether intentionally or not. “Long time no see. I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

 

 

Then, gesturing toward Shu Ran, she asked, “And this is…?”

 

 

Unlike Qi Sijia’s delayed reaction, Shu Ran was already on her feet, her expression unreadable. Internally, she cursed—Qi Sijia had hidden this well. To think she’d once been involved with Meng Jiang!

 

 

Her planned humiliation suddenly felt impossible.

 

 

What worried Shu Ran more now was the possibility of Qi Sijia introducing her as her girlfriend. After all, the woman standing before them was Meng Jiang—the mentor of the debut show Shu Ran was about to join. If she could get on Meng Jiang’s good side, it would mean more screen time and a smoother rise to fame.

 

 

“Teacher Meng!” Shu Ran quickly adjusted her expression, extending her hand with feigned delight. “What luck running into you here! It’s such an honor. I’m Qi Sijia’s friend, Shu Ran. ‘Shu’ as in ‘comfortable’—”

 

 

Meng Jiang took a step back, letting Chen Cheng shake Shu Ran’s hand in her place.

 

 

“Hello.”

 

 

Her tone was indifferent, signaling no interest in further acquaintance.

 

 

After perfunctorily dismissing Shu Ran, Meng Jiang turned back to Qi Sijia.

 

 

The two locked eyes, the atmosphere momentarily still.

 

 

A reunion of exes—yet there was none of the expected awkwardness, hostility, or biting sarcasm.

 

 

Meng Jiang’s expression was perfectly natural, as if this were nothing more than a polite greeting, devoid of any deeper meaning.

 

 

 

Qi Sijia, however, couldn’t handle the situation with ease. She couldn’t stay in a crowd for long, her gaze drifting toward the entrance, glancing two or three times.

 

 

With effort, she managed to say, “It’s been a while.”

 

 

One stood while the other sat. Meng Jiang lowered her eyes, meeting Qi Sijia’s narrow gaze with a faint, ambiguous smile. “Here for tea with a friend?” she asked casually.

 

 

Her offhand remark immediately drew curious, prying eyes toward Qi Sijia.

 

 

Qi Sijia took a deep breath.

 

 

Noticing her discomfort, a flicker of surprise passed through Meng Jiang’s eyes. She subtly shifted her stance, using her back to block most of the surrounding stares.

 

 

Only after regaining her composure did Qi Sijia lift her head.

 

 

Adult social interactions could be troublesome at times—even with an ex from a first love, one had to maintain a certain decorum.

 

 

Now that Meng Jiang had initiated small talk, and under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Qi Sijia couldn’t leave her hanging. She had to respond.

 

 

Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, Qi Sijia avoided looking directly at Meng Jiang’s face, fixing her gaze instead on the woman’s shoulder. “Shu Ran is my girlfriend.”

 

 

“Oh.” Meng Jiang glanced at Shu Ran. “Is that so?”

 

 

“What nonsense are you spouting, Qi Sijia? I came here today to break up!” Shu Ran stomped in frustration, gritting her teeth as she shot her ex a warning glare to shut up.

 

 

But Qi Sijia wasn’t paying attention. With Meng Jiang standing nearby, their table had become the center of attention. Even though Meng Jiang had shifted to shield her from most of the stares, Qi Sijia’s social anxiety was far worse than it had been five years ago. If there had been a crack in the ground, she would have dived into it without hesitation to hide.

 

 

Her head buzzed. Taking another deep breath, she clung to the last shreds of her composure and decided to leave immediately.

 

 

“Anything else?” she asked Shu Ran, though she had no energy left to process the meaning behind Shu Ran’s “we’ve already broken up.”

 

 

Whatever it meant would have to wait.

 

 

Qi Sijia’s face showed no trace of heartbreak—her expression remained as indifferent as if she were meeting a stranger for the first time.

 

 

Shu Ran frowned deeply. Even with outsiders watching, her mood soured beyond words. “You have nothing to say about the breakup?” she snapped coldly.

 

 

“Nothing,” Qi Sijia replied. “Let’s end it here for today. I’m leaving.”

 

 

Setting her teacup aside, she avoided Meng Jiang’s probing gaze and didn’t even bother with a farewell.

 

 

As she walked toward the exit, passing by Meng Jiang, the familiar scent of wild roses from years ago—now mingled with a hint of fruit wine—drifted into her senses.

 

 

Qi Sijia paused, reflexively blurting out, “Don’t drive if you’ve been drinking.”

 

 

It was a habitual reminder, spoken without thought or deliberation.

 

 

The moment the words left her mouth, she froze. Her mind must have been muddled.

 

 

Without waiting for Meng Jiang’s response, she walked away.

 

 

Meng Jiang seemed momentarily lost in thought, stiffening as if recalling something. Only when Qi Sijia’s figure disappeared from sight did she force her practiced, professional smile back into place.