The Extravagant Alpha And The Cold Movie Queen’s Fake Act Became Real - Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Embedding Her Palm into Her Chest.

Ruan Siyi’s heart trembled.

She silently looked at Fu Ru’an, but only saw her tightly pursed lips and lowered eyelashes, as if a thick, dense curtain had blocked out all light.

By the time Ruan Siyi and Fu Ru’an rushed to the attic together, everything inside had already been moved out—including the paintings.

The paintings were haphazardly piled on the floor, each canvas soaked through with water, the dark stains mottled and visible. Even without lifting the covers, it was clear what state the oil paintings beneath must be in.

A maid nearby, unaware, picked up a cloth and was about to wipe them, but Fu Ru’an abruptly pushed her aside.

“You can’t wipe them directly!” Her tone, usually gentle, was uncharacteristically sharp. “These paintings are coated with varnish. Wiping them directly will damage the protective layer!”

Along with them, Fu Yunxi had also hurried over.

She had already changed out of her pristine black suit from the day and was now wearing a dark green silk nightgown. Her jet-black hair was slightly disheveled from rushing over, yet she still carried an aura of sharpness. Even without speaking, her presence was palpable.

“How did these paintings end up like this?”

Fu Yunxi’s voice was low, devoid of overt anger, but it carried a chilling undertone that made everyone tense.

No one answered.

Fu Ru’an looked up at her, her tone unexpectedly calm.

“The attic has been under repair for a while now, and it still isn’t fixed. Did no one in the Fu family know?”

Fu Yunxi’s brow furrowed slightly as her gaze shifted from the paintings to Fu Ru’an.

Outside, the rain continued to pour, the pitter-patter of droplets against the old roof and walls creating a rhythmic, almost urgent sound, like someone knocking frantically or a silent sob. The water stains on the floor slowly spread, soaking into the wooden grain near Fu Yunxi’s feet, reflecting a faint, shimmering light.

“I’ll have someone investigate this thoroughly,” Fu Yunxi replied succinctly.

She turned and instructed the butler behind her, “Move these paintings to the climate-controlled room for now and do what you can to salvage them. Also, contact a restoration expert immediately.”

Fu Ru’an let out a low laugh. “What’s the point of salvaging them now? They’re already ruined.”

The atmosphere instantly grew tense.

Fu Yunxi looked at her, her expression inscrutable.

“Ru’an, the attic is old and in disrepair. No one could have anticipated this. As for why it leaked and why the items weren’t moved beforehand… I’ll give you an answer.”

Her words were a subtle reminder not to overreact.

“So you’re saying this isn’t anyone’s fault?”

Fu Ru’an’s voice suddenly rose, and Ruan Siyi had never seen her so agitated before.

“The Fu family never cared about these things to begin with. You never cared about her!”

On the surface, she was referring to the Fu family.

But in reality, her words were aimed squarely at Fu Yunxi.

Everyone in the Fu household acted according to the head of the family’s wishes. Had Fu Yunxi shown even the slightest concern, how could things have come to this?

Ruan Siyi, standing beside her, couldn’t help but reach out and gently grasp Fu Ru’an’s wrist. Her warm palm slowly heated Fu Ru’an’s skin, a silent comfort.

Fu Ru’an calmed slightly but didn’t pull away. After a moment of silence, she continued, her voice low.

“These paintings are the last things she left behind. Every single one was painted by her own hand…”

She paused, her tone growing heavier.

“Fu Yunxi, I don’t know what these mean to you—after all, you’ve never once bothered to look at them. But to me, they’re… proof that she once existed.”

Fu Yunxi’s expression stiffened, as if struck by a heavy blow, but she quickly regained her composure, her mask flawless as though it had never cracked.

“I understand how you feel, but what’s done cannot be undone. Besides, it’s time you learned to let go of the past.”

“The past?”

Fu Ru’an’s barely stabilized emotions flared up again. She repeated the word coldly, her eyes a mix of fury and sorrow, as if all her suppressed emotions had finally found an outlet.

“Maybe it really is just the past to you? You’ve always been like this—what else matters to you besides profit?”

“Fu Yunxi, you’ve long wished for her death!”

Ruan Siyi was stunned by her outburst.

What did that mean?

What had happened between them before?

Had the relationship between mother and daughter deteriorated to such an irreparable state?

Her grip on Fu Ru’an’s wrist tightened slightly, her warmth seeping through, but it couldn’t soothe the storm inside Fu Ru’an’s heart.

Ruan Siyi wanted to say something but hesitated, unsure how to begin. Instead, she silently lowered her gaze to their intertwined hands.

Fu Yunxi’s expression darkened. She averted her eyes, as if avoiding Fu Ru’an’s accusation, her fingers tightening imperceptibly at her sides, her knuckles whitening.

“Fu Ru’an.”

Her voice softened slightly, losing some of its earlier edge.

“You know I only want what’s best for you… Whether it’s her or these paintings, they’re all in the past. You need to move forward, not drown in memories and illusions.”

Outside, the rain slid down the eaves, forming thin, intermittent streams that dripped onto the exposed corners of the walls, emitting soft tap-tap sounds, occasionally mingling with the rustling of leaves in the wind.

The entire attic seemed trapped in this endless downpour, with no escape.

Melancholic and lonely.

Fu Ru’an didn’t look at her again. Instead, she bent down and began picking up the waterlogged paintings one by one.

The canvases, soaked through, had lost their original stiffness, becoming slippery and soft, their edges peeling with paint like broken scars.

By the time her arms were full and she could carry no more, she froze, her eyes lowering slightly.

Ruan Siyi stepped forward without a word, naturally gathering the remaining paintings Fu Ru’an couldn’t hold and carefully following behind her.

The wind howled through the attic’s cracked window, carrying a biting chill that lifted the cloth covering the topmost painting in Ruan Siyi’s arms.

Beneath the cloth, the image was already blurred, the colors muddled into chaotic streaks, its original form lost.

But traces of the painting were still faintly visible.

It was a portrait. Though the rain had blurred some details and the colors were faded, the cold yet tender eyes of the subject were still discernible—

It was Fu Yunxi.

The soft hues and delicate brushstrokes depicted the usually stern woman with surprising elegance. In the painting, she wore the same dark green silk dress as tonight, though without the outer robe, revealing the bold, flowing design of the gown and large swathes of flawless, snow-white skin along her back.

She sat on a chair by the window, looking back over her shoulder, her features strikingly defined in the light. Around her, roses, lilies, and jasmine intertwined in a romantic backdrop, sunlight spilling through sheer curtains to illuminate her gaze—direct, cold, and yet filled with desire.

“This is…”

Ruan Siyi froze, instinctively looking up at Fu Ru’an.

Though the painting was indeed of Fu Yunxi…

It looked nothing like her.

Even if she took this painting and showed it to everyone in the Fu Corporation, no one would dare say the woman depicted was their cold, unyielding CEO.

Had Fu Yunxi ever been like this?

Fu Ru’an heard her voice and turned, her eyes landing on the painting.

Her tone carried a faint sarcasm. “This was the last painting she made… the night before she jumped from the rooftop.”

“At the time, President Fu was in Europe on a business trip, sealing some big deal, wasn’t she?”

Fu Yunxi’s expression finally cracked, a hint of something unreadable flickering in her eyes.

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

In the end, she simply stepped aside in silence, making way for Ruan Siyi and Fu Ru’an.

The sound of rain seemed especially loud now, striking the fragile wooden floor and eaves, carrying the cold of the late night.

Fu Ru’an didn’t spare her another glance. Clutching the paintings tightly, she walked past her, her footsteps measured and steady.

Ruan Siyi followed closely behind, arms full of damp canvases.

As she passed Fu Yunxi, she paused slightly, silently meeting her gaze before moving on.

“Young Miss, the restorers will arrive first thing tomorrow morning. You…”

The butler’s voice sounded hesitant from the stairwell.

“I’ll handle the emergency measures first,” Fu Ru’an replied calmly but firmly. “They’ll be ready by morning.”

The butler seemed about to say more, but a glance at Fu Yunxi’s silent nod made him acquiesce. “Understood.”

Fu Ru’an entered the room.

She carefully laid the soaked paintings flat on the table, using clean gauze to gently blot the water from their surfaces, ensuring every droplet was absorbed.

Ruan Siyi didn’t disturb her, quietly standing by and observing her every move.

“You can go rest,” Fu Ru’an said without looking up, her voice weary. “I can handle this alone.”

No, you can’t.

Ruan Siyi silently disagreed.

In this state, who could possibly leave you alone?

“Sister, I’ll stay and help.”

Ruan Siyi’s voice was soft but firm.

She mimicked Fu Ru’an’s actions, uncovering the second painting and carefully dabbing away the moisture.

Then the third, the fourth, the fifth.

Only one painting remained.

Ruan Siyi waited for Fu Ru’an to finish so she could move them to a dry place, but after a long while, there was still no movement.

“Fu Ru’an?”

Ruan Siyi called out softly, turning to find her standing still, her hands frozen mid-air, her expression unreadable.

Before she could ask again, a cold body suddenly pressed close, enveloping her in a tight embrace.

Fu Ru’an’s grip was surprisingly strong, trapping Ruan Siyi in her arms effortlessly.

Their clothes were damp from carrying the rain-soaked paintings, allowing their heartbeats to resonate more closely.

“Fu Ru’an, you…”

Ruan Siyi flustered, but Fu Ru’an rested her chin on her shoulder, cutting her off.

“Don’t move.”

Fu Ru’an’s voice was low and hoarse, tinged with a barely perceptible tremor. She held her tightly, as if trying to convey every ounce of her emotion.

“Just stay like this for a while.”

Ruan Siyi stiffened momentarily before relaxing, tentatively wrapping her arms around Fu Ru’an’s slender back.

“Ruan Siyi.”

Fu Ru’an lifted her head from her shoulder.

“Kiss me.”

Please.

Ruan Siyi hesitated briefly before complying, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Ruan Siyi.”

Fu Ru’an issued another command.

“Touch me.”

Ruan Siyi obediently stroked her hair.

“Not there.”

Fu Ru’an guided her hand beneath her clothes.

Ruan Siyi’s fingers trembled as they met Fu Ru’an’s warm skin. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat pulsed against her fingertips, slow yet undeniable, sending shivers down her spine.

Her hand froze, not daring to move further.

But Fu Ru’an didn’t release her. Instead, she pressed Ruan Siyi’s palm deeper into her chest, right over the source of her heartbeat.

Senses could deceive—what was seen or heard might be illusions, fleeting and unreal.

She needed violence or s3x to remind herself she was alive, to flood her veins with adrenaline and dopamine.

But when Ruan Siyi’s hand truly pressed against her skin, feeling the life pulsing beneath, Fu Ru’an trembled from head to toe, body and soul resonating in unison.

Perhaps because, for once, someone could confirm the existence of her heartbeat.