The Breakup Didn’t Stop Me From Owning the World - Chapter 21

Lan Muyu yanked her hand back with a swift motion, quickly crouching down and burying her head against her chest in a completely ungraceful manner—as if doing so would make her invisible.

 

With her eyes tightly shut, her other senses became more acute. She could feel Li Ruonan’s presence drawing nearer, her breath quickening, her heart pounding wildly in her chest, threatening to leap out.

 

Countless escape plans flashed through Lan Muyu’s mind, only to be dismissed one after another. In the pitch-black darkness, with just the two of them alone, no explanation she could muster seemed convincing enough.

 

Where was the bold ambition she’d had earlier, imagining herself as a wild horse?

 

Now she was nothing more than a domesticated little rabbit—one that temporarily believed it could turn invisible.

 

Lan Muyu waited and waited, but the sounds from the bed gradually faded, and the source of the noise moved further away. Puzzled, she cautiously lifted her head, scanning the dark room, but Li Ruonan’s silhouette was nowhere to be seen.

 

Slowly, Lan Muyu stood up, searching for any sign of Li Ruonan.

 

Click.

 

The sound of a switch being flipped echoed, and the bedroom was instantly flooded with light, banishing the darkness.

 

Li Ruonan stood right in front of her, arms crossed, watching her intently.

 

Lan Muyu froze, unsure where to place her hands or feet. She kept her head lowered, not daring to look up, until a pair of delicate feet came into view, moving steadily toward her.

 

With every step Li Ruonan took forward, Lan Muyu retreated one step back—until her lower back bumped against a decorative piece in the bedroom, forcing her to stop.

 

Her gaze traveled upward: long, slender legs, leading to a creamy white silk nightgown that draped over a slender waist. Raising her eyes slightly higher, the nightgown faintly outlined the curves beneath, making Lan Muyu’s mouth go dry.

 

A soft voice asked, “Enjoying the view?”

 

Lan Muyu nodded instinctively.

 

As the distance closed, she could even see the gentle rise and fall of Li Ruonan’s chest with each step. Her eyes trailed up the V-neck of the nightgown, settling on two delicate collarbones—how tempting it would be to leave a mark there…

 

“Do you like it?”

 

Lan Muyu nodded again.

 

A soft chuckle escaped Li Ruonan’s lips, but the amusement quickly vanished, replaced by a cold tone laced with simmering anger. “Lan Muyu, you’ve got quite the nerve, don’t you?”

 

Lan Muyu snapped her gaze away, suddenly realizing how much she resembled a shameless rogue. She stammered, “I—I wasn’t—I just, um, I—uh…”

 

Li Ruonan continued advancing, cornering Lan Muyu. “You what? Did you barge into my room on purpose? Or was sneaking into my bed part of the plan? Care to explain, Miss Lan?”

 

“I…” Lan Muyu’s ears flushed pink. She swore she hadn’t intended any of this when she came in—she was just looking for a key. But now, with Li Ruonan’s accusations hanging in the air, her heart couldn’t help but stir.

 

During the day, she only ever saw Li Ruonan in professional attire, meticulously put together and flawlessly composed. If not for this unexpected intrusion, she would never have known that beneath those prim outfits lay such a figure—one that might even surpass her own…

 

Noticing Lan Muyu’s lingering gaze on her chest, Li Ruonan’s embarrassment flared into fury. She raised her voice sharply. “Lan Muyu!”

 

“Ah!” The sudden shout startled Lan Muyu, making her shoulders jerk in surprise.

 

“Speak up, explain!”

 

Feeling Li Ruonan’s increasingly icy gaze, Lan Muyu figured that since she had already been caught tonight and was bound to be kicked out anyway, she might as well take a gamble before that happened.

 

Without hesitation, Lan Muyu took a step forward, closing the distance between them until she could feel Li Ruonan’s warm breath against her ear.

 

Just as Lan Muyu had expected, Li Ruonan immediately tensed and took several steps back. “Don’t mess around! It’s late—get out and go to bed!”

 

Lan Muyu smirked and stretched out her hand. “Give me the key.”

 

“What key?”

 

“How dare you ask me what key? The key to turn on the air conditioning, the one for the circuit breaker.” Seizing the moment while Li Ruonan was distracted, Lan Muyu swiftly darted past her and threw herself onto the bed, wrapping herself tightly in the blanket. “If you don’t give it to me, I’ll sleep like this tonight.”

 

Li Ruonan was practically laughing in exasperation. She strode over to the bed and tugged at the blanket. “Do you really think I won’t throw you out?”

 

“Nope, nope.” Lan Muyu rolled over onto the pillow, peeking out with only her bright eyes visible as she gazed at Li Ruonan. “Goodnight, President Li~”

 

With that, she turned her back to Li Ruonan, pretending to fall asleep.

 

“Hey, Lan Muyu, get up.” Li Ruonan had always been fiercely independent since childhood, and living with Lan Muyu these past few days had already disrupted her life enough. But if Lan Muyu insisted on sleeping in her room like this, Li Ruonan simply couldn’t accept it.

 

“No. If you don’t turn on the air conditioning for me, I’ll sleep here from now on.” Lan Muyu took her tantrum to the extreme.

 

“Are you leaving or not?”

 

“Nope, nope.”

 

Gritting her teeth, Li Ruonan quickly got up, rummaged through a drawer for a set of keys, and removed one from the keyring. She then returned to the bed and tapped Lan Muyu’s back. “Here, take the key and get out.”

 

Lan Muyu turned her head, opening one eye to look at the key right in front of her. She snatched it but then flopped back onto the pillow. “You wouldn’t give it to me earlier, so now I’ve changed my mind. I like your bed too much—I’ll take the key and the bed.”

 

With that, she pulled the blanket over her head, cutting off any further conversation.

 

Li Ruonan felt like the night had taken a surreal turn. She glanced around the room again, confirming that this was indeed her own bedroom, before yanking at Lan Muyu’s blanket. “Get out! Or do you want me to withdraw my investment?”

 

“Go ahead. If someone like Director Wang from Taiquan bullies me later, it’ll be your fault!”

 

“Then how about I replace your manager and rewrite your contract?”

 

“Do it. If someone like Director Wang from Taiquan bullies me later, it’ll be your fault!”

 

“Lan Muyu, is that the only thing you know how to say?”

 

Lan Muyu turned her head again, flashing a sly grin. “I also know how to say—Goodnight, President Li~ Sending you hearts and kisses, mwah mwah mwah~”

 

“Lan Muyu!” Li Ruonan pulled harder, finally managing to loosen a corner of the blanket. But Lan Muyu wasn’t one to back down either, stubbornly clinging to the rest.

 

The two of them went back and forth, neither willing to yield. Their pajamas became disheveled, and their hair tangled together. With one forceful tug, Li Ruonan finally managed to pull the blanket out of Lan Muyu’s arms.

 

But due to the momentum, Lan Muyu stumbled forward in the direction of the blanket and ended up pressing against Li Ruonan, with only the blanket separating them.

 

Lan Muyu: !

 

Li Ruonan: !

 

The fluffy air-conditioning quilt seemed to have lost its usual thickness, and Lan Muyu could clearly hear the sound of Li Ruonan’s heartbeat: “Thump, thump, thump.”

 

Long, curled lashes couldn’t hide Li Ruonan’s eyes, and for the first time, Lan Muyu realized just how beautiful they were.

 

Because at that moment, those eyes were completely focused on her—and only her.

 

As if bewitched, Lan Muyu reached out, her fingertips brushing against Li Ruonan’s lips, pressing lightly. Li Ruonan was the first to react, exclaiming sharply, “You—!”

 

The intimate atmosphere between them shattered. Lan Muyu yanked her hand back as if caught doing something naughty, her neck flushing crimson in an instant. “I—I wasn’t…” doing it on purpose.

 

“Get out.”

 

“Ah, right.” Lan Muyu scrambled off the bed in a fluster. Though she wanted to explain further, she ultimately clutched the key and hurried out of Li Ruonan’s bedroom, carefully closing the door behind her.

 

Leaning against the corridor wall, Lan Muyu panted heavily.

 

She had been the one trying to tease Li Ruonan in the first place, so why was she the one who couldn’t handle it in the end?

 

Annoyed, she covered her face with her hands.

 

To be fair, it wasn’t entirely her fault for lacking restraint. The main issue was:

 

Li Ruonan… was just too unfair.

 

Thankfully, Li Ruonan didn’t chase after her, sparing Lan Muyu some dignity—otherwise, she wouldn’t have known how to face her.

 

Once Lan Muyu calmed down, she headed toward the circuit breaker and easily unlocked it with the key.

 

The switches inside were clearly labeled, and the only one flipped down was the one controlling her room’s power. She flipped it back up and returned to her bedroom.

 

Cool air filled the room again, but it did little to soothe the restless heat inside Lan Muyu. She tossed and turned all night until dawn gradually broke.

 

By the time Lan Muyu woke up, it was already noon. Since it was the weekend, Li Ruonan hadn’t gone out.

 

They ran into each other in the living room, their gazes meeting briefly before both looked away, silently agreeing not to mention what had happened the night before.

 

Takeout had already been set out on the dining table. Noticing Lan Muyu still standing there, Li Ruonan called out, “Aren’t you coming for lunch?”

 

“Ah, coming.” Lan Muyu pulled out a chair and sat down, glancing at the takeout packaging. “Minglaige?”

 

“Yeah, just ordered a few random dishes. If you don’t like them, don’t eat.”

 

These weren’t just random dishes—they were the ones she had eaten most of the night before.

 

At that thought, Lan Muyu’s mood lifted slightly. “Mm, it’s fine. I can manage.”

 

Li Ruonan glanced at her and handed over a pair of chopsticks. “Eat.”

 

Lan Muyu rewarded her with a bright smile. “Thanks.”

 

The two ate in silence. Once she was about seventy or eighty percent full, Lan Muyu struck up a conversation. “What time did you wake up?”

 

“Just a few hours earlier than you.”

 

Lan Muyu wanted to bury her head in her clothes—why was she the only one suffering from insomnia and waking up late?

 

But what Lan Muyu didn’t know was that after she left last night, the bedside lamp in Li Ruonan’s bedroom had stayed on the entire night.

 

The atmosphere seemed a bit tense, so Li Ruonan took the initiative to change the subject, “By the way, didn’t you say before that you didn’t like Fu Yiming?”

 

Lan Muyu nibbled on her chopsticks. “It’s not that I dislike him, per se. It’s just that I’m naturally charming and universally adored, while he’s just a bit greasy and overly confident. But still…”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“But the reason I hate him is that you had to give him so much money to help me secure the Tianhao contract. Can we not get that money back?”

 

Li Ruonan explained, “After Fu Yiming was kicked out of Tianhao, he wanted to venture into other businesses. But their ambitions are quite grand. Yuncheng is already famous for its film industry, and they seem to want to build a film and television base there.”

 

Since Li Ruonan had brought it up, it couldn’t just be idle chatter. Lan Muyu played along eagerly, “A film and television base requires a huge investment, doesn’t it? Where would Fu Yiming get that kind of money?”

 

Li Ruonan elaborated, “I heard Tianhao is about to release a few backlogged dramas soon, which should give them some financial recovery. Although a film and television base is expensive, it doesn’t have to be funded by a single investor. The Qingyun Pavilion project in my hands, nestled between mountains and rivers, would be perfect for it.”

 

Lan Muyu nodded, though not entirely understanding. “And then?”

 

“After I got back last night, I leaked the news. Fu Yiming is a complete novice in this field. If he tries to go it alone, the risks would be too high, so he’ll look for joint projects. Qingyun Pavilion has government backing. This morning, he already contacted my secretary.”

 

“You’re going to partner with him?” Lan Muyu exclaimed in surprise.

 

“Yes and no. I had someone paint a grand vision for him, outlining Qingyun Pavilion’s future and all the business opportunities it holds.”

 

“So he’s just going to benefit from this?” Lan Muyu suddenly put down her chopsticks. “I thought you were going to help me get revenge, but instead, you—you!”

 

“Let me finish first. Why are you always so impatient?” Li Ruonan reached out her hand. “But I stipulated that any partner must show sufficient sincerity. I won’t accept scattered shares. If he wants to invest, he must put in at least ten percent.”

 

Lan Muyu suddenly understood. “But the Fu family can’t possibly come up with that much money, so he’d have to find others to make up the difference. Yet all his fair-weather friends are just spoiled second-generation heirs who can’t decide on such large investments. And since you’ve helped him once before, he’d naturally turn to you again?”

 

Li Ruonan reached out and ruffled Lan Muyu’s hair. “All those years studying acting haven’t rusted your brain after all.”

 

Lan Muyu grinned smugly at Li Ruonan and continued analyzing, “So Fu Yiming came to you again to borrow money?”

 

“Mhm. He doesn’t know my identity, but he knows I want to promote you, which means he’s aware I’m on the opposite side from Fu Yao—something he’d naturally be happy about.

 

Lending him money is fine. The interest will just follow the bank rates. And the investment won’t be a one-time thing either. The more attention Qingyun Pavilion garners during its development, the higher his expectations will grow, and the more money he’ll pour into it. But his stake in Qingyun Pavilion was fixed from the very beginning.”

 

The larger the loan amount, the higher the interest rate. For projects like Qingyun Pavilion with prolonged early timelines, government acceptance inspections are also difficult.”

 

Lan Muyu put down her chopsticks, “So… the profits he gets might not even cover the loan interest?”

 

“I never said that.” Li Ruonan spread her hands, “If he can’t pay the corresponding interest when the time comes, he’ll have no choice but to reduce his shares. My trip to Yuncheng won’t be a loss after all.”

 

Lan Muyu winked at Li Ruonan, “Exactly, so shouldn’t you thank me?”

 

“This is all my own earnings. What does it have to do with you?”

 

“How is it unrelated? Since we’re both in the entertainment industry, Fu Yao will cause me trouble again. If I behave properly during filming, the more complacent Fu Yao becomes, the more restless Fu Yiming will grow. That’ll help your plan succeed faster.”

 

Li Ruonan laughed and scolded, “You’re always so good at taking advantage.”

 

Lan Muyu lifted her chin, “I wouldn’t bother with anyone else.”

 

 

A few days later, with the budget reorganized thanks to Li Ruonan’s investment, Gu Yan completed auditions for all remaining roles, and the official filming began.

 

Perhaps the dinner at Minglai Pavilion had served as a wake-up call for Ling Shan. This time, she canceled all her commitments and accompanied Lan Muyu to the set early, planning to stay by her side throughout filming to prevent any potential harm.

 

As a result, wherever Lan Muyu went, Ling Shan and Xiao Zhang followed closely, which frustrated her for quite some time.

 

During these early days of filming, Gu Yan grew increasingly satisfied with Li Ruonan as an investor. Apart from requesting the removal of intimate scenes, Li Ruonan made no further demands on the production.

 

Generous with funding, making no unreasonable requests, and causing no trouble—she was practically every director’s ideal investor.

 

Since Li Ruonan was so accommodating, Gu Yan was happy to promote Lan Muyu, working with the scriptwriters to make the female lead’s character more nuanced while cutting scenes that might attract criticism for Lan Muyu.

 

After Lan Muyu took the lead role, the supporting actress position was quickly filled, and the crew immersed themselves in their work, progressing smoothly.

 

Meanwhile, there was no further news about Han Feifei—whether she had joined another production or was making waves online—as if she had vanished into thin air.

 

Since her humiliating retreat from Minglai Pavilion, Fu Yao had been seething with resentment. Jiang Qianrou, understanding Fu Yao’s feelings, had been looking for opportunities to help her regain face.

 

By chance, thanks to family connections and Tianhao’s investment, Fu Yao and Jiang Qianrou were soon cast in another period drama set in the Republic of China era—”Shadows of the Republic.”

 

With only a handful of suitable filming locations in Yuncheng for Republic-era productions, the two crews eventually crossed paths. At first, they coexisted peacefully, each focusing on their own work.

 

However, Lan Muyu’s production, backed by Li Ruonan’s investment and Gu Yan’s high standards, excelled in every aspect—from costumes to character design—outshining their rivals next door. Leaked set photos kept generating buzz, maintaining the project’s soaring popularity.

 

However, “Shadows of the Republic” had only started filming temporarily for Fu Yao and Jiang Qianrou, and the script was still incomplete.

 

Moreover, since Jiang Qianrou had attended university abroad, she was unfamiliar with many of the customs and traditions of the Republican era depicted in the script. As a result, the production team’s progress was repeatedly delayed, making Fu Yao’s side appear even more dismal in comparison to the neighboring “Limited Edition” production team.

 

Even though “Shadows of the Republic” was an adaptation of a novel with an existing fanbase, it still fell behind.

 

Fu Yao and Jiang Qianrou would often take the opportunity to mock Lan Muyu with snide remarks. As a public figure, Lan Muyu had to maintain her image, but Ling Shan had no such restrictions. Having weathered the entertainment industry for so many years, she was far more experienced than newcomers like Fu Yao and Jiang Qianrou.

 

After failing to get to Lan Muyu and suffering several setbacks from Ling Shan, the two gradually stopped coming around as often.

 

Just when it seemed things would continue peacefully, that calm was shattered one night:

 

A trending topic exploded on Weibo, directly accusing the “Limited Edition” production team of script plagiarism.