A Washed-up Movie Queen's Divorce Strategy [Rebirth] - Chapter 32

Ming Lang did not answer Ming Yan’s question. She was indeed pushing her limit. With a stoic expression, she said to Ming Yan, “Go outside. I have something to discuss with Xinyuan.”

Seeing her sister’s face as dark as charcoal, Ming Yan assumed she was going to cause trouble for Han Xinyuan because of Ji Chenli’s injury. She gave Han Xinyuan a “good luck, you’re on your own” look and hurried toward the door.

“Wait,” Ming Lang added.

Ming Yan’s footsteps faltered, her heart skipping a beat. No way, I’ve been behaving well lately, right? I haven’t caused any trouble, have I? She turned around and gave a guilty smile. “Sister, is there something else?”

“Call Mom and Dad and let them know you’re safe.”

Ming Yan breathed a sigh of relief, promised to do it, and bolted out.

“Go lie down on the bed so you don’t catch a cold,” Ming Lang said to Han Xinyuan, who was only wearing a single layer of thin clothing.

“But I…” Han Xinyuan wanted to argue, but upon meeting Ming Lang’s eyes, her defiance instantly withered. Without a word, she pulled back the covers and crawled in, leaning half-seated against the headboard. Her eyes darted around, trying to figure out how to find a chance to sneak over to Ji Chenli’s ward.

“How is your hand?” Ming Lang asked.

Han Xinyuan replied, “It’s fine. Just a fracture, nothing serious.”

“That’s good.”

Ming Lang stayed in Han Xinyuan’s room for a few minutes. There was no further conversation during that time. Knowing Ming Lang’s personality, Han Xinyuan didn’t pay it much mind, but after a few minutes, she couldn’t help but ask, “A-Lang, I just wanted to visit Ji Chenli—is it really necessary to act like this?”

“She needs quiet rest right now,” Ming Lang said. “Since you’re fine, handle the discharge papers tomorrow and return to C City. Grandma must be worried.”

Hearing this, Han Xinyuan felt an unpleasant sting in her heart. Ming Lang had always been good to her since childhood, but she was a cold person who spent most of her energy on the Ming family’s affairs and didn’t check in much on Han Xinyuan’s daily life. Han Xinyuan had always thought that was just how Ming Lang was; she believed that even if Ming Lang didn’t ask, she was always thinking of her. Now, seeing the contrast with Ji Chenli, the difference was stark.

When you’re thinking of someone, how could you not consider every aspect of their well-being? If a person doesn’t ask, it’s simply because they don’t care. Otherwise, why was Ming Lang so meticulous and careful with Ji Chenli, looking after her every detail down to her very bones?

The more Han Xinyuan thought about it, the angrier she became. She raised her eyebrows and said sarcastically, “A-Lang, do you really distrust me that much? No matter how much I, Han Xinyuan, hate Ji Chenli, I’m not stupid. Why would I do something to harm her in a place like a hospital? Besides, am I really that bad? Ji Chenli is my savior—twice. Even if I can’t stand her, I’m not the kind of person to return kindness with ingratitude!”

Ming Lang was likely too exhausted. She leaned back against the wall, her head resting against the cold surface, eyes closed in silence. Seeing Ming Lang’s weary look, Han Xinyuan felt a pang of pity. She paused for a few seconds, softened her tone, and sighed, “A-Lang, do you really distrust me this much?”

“A-Lang, why has the bond between us turned into this?” Han Xinyuan couldn’t understand. The sister who could protect her and stand in front of her to shield her from the wind and rain when they were young—how did she change so fast? She had changed so much that Han Xinyuan barely recognized her.

Ming Lang opened her eyes, glanced at Han Xinyuan, then looked away toward a small patch of peeling paint in the corner. She said flatly, “Xinyuan, do you truly know what you want?”

“Of course I know,” Han Xinyuan sneered. “A-Lang, how well do you think you know me? Have you ever looked back at me once?” It had always been Han Xinyuan chasing after Ming Lang. After all these years, she was suddenly a bit tired. Ming Lang had a heart of stone; she never wavered once her mind was set. Loving this person was destined to be a hopeless endeavor from the start.

Han Xinyuan said resentfully, “I was blind and couldn’t see clearly. Ji Chenli is smarter than me and sees things clearer; that’s why she lives more freely than I do.”

Ming Lang’s fingers twitched. She walked over to Han Xinyuan. “Xinyuan, I can’t give you what you want, and Ji Chenli can’t give it to you either. She’s a fool. Don’t provoke her. Consider it…”

“Consider it me begging you.”

Han Xinyuan found Ming Lang’s words a bit strange and laughed. “Ming Lang, you don’t actually think I’ve fallen for Ji Chenli, do you?”

Ming Lang said nothing. Han Xinyuan knew it was a silent admission. She mocked herself: “It turns out my ‘liking’ is so worthless in your eyes. A-Lang, I am blind in the eyes, but you are blind in the heart.”

“Don’t worry, my feelings aren’t so cheap that I’d love whoever I see.” Han Xinyuan lay back under the covers and pulled them over her head. “I’m going back to C City tomorrow. You can leave now. Stop bothering me.”

Ji Chenli had been recovering in the hospital for several days. Her condition had improved, the external wounds had scabbed over, and the pain had subsided. However, she had other issues that gave her a headache just thinking about them—like right now, lying on the bed with her back bare. The posture felt bizarre no matter how she looked at it.

Ming Lang was changing her bandages. She first used warm water to clean off the residue of the old ointment, gently dried the skin, applied a new layer of medicated cream, and then wrapped it in gauze to prevent infection.

Initially, Ji Chenli had flatly refused to let Ming Lang apply the medicine, insisting on a nurse. Ming Lang actually found a young nurse for her, but as soon as the girl arrived, she put on a sour face. While changing the dressing, she complained, “Don’t you have family here? This isn’t exactly a technical job. You celebrities are so high-maintenance. The hospital is packed with patients right now, we’re too busy for surgery, yet you waste medical resources for such a trivial matter. Apparently only your life is precious and everyone else’s is dirt, right?”

Halfway through the dressing change, the nurse was called for a surgery. She tossed the cotton swabs and gauze into Ming Lang’s hands and left. After all that effort, Ming Lang ended up being the one changing the medicine anyway.

“…” Ji Chenli and Ming Lang stared at each other. Finally, Ming Lang said slowly, “I’ll change it for you?”

Though Ming Lang still wore that same deadpan face, Ji Chenli swore she saw a triumphant glint in her eyes!

And so, it led to the current scene.

Ji Chenli lay on the bed, her back in direct contact with the air of the room—which wasn’t very warm—and occasionally touched by Ming Lang’s even colder fingers. She couldn’t see what was happening behind her, so all her attention was focused on her back. She was exceptionally sensitive to Ming Lang’s touch; every time the ointment was applied, the muscles in her back would tense up.

“Are you done yet?” Ji Chenli asked gloomily, her head buried in the pillow.

“No,” Ming Lang said. There were too many wounds on Ji Chenli’s back; the crisscrossing bloody gashes made Ming Lang’s heart feel heavy. Especially a long scar on her lower back—she didn’t know what had cut it—the flesh had been torn open, looking like a centipede crawling there. it was exceptionally startling.

Ming Lang couldn’t help but stroke the scar, her hand trembling as she thought: if that object had gone just a few inches deeper, Ji Chenli might truly be gone. Just thinking about it made cold sweat break out on her forehead.

However, Ji Chenli’s back was very white, with the warm, translucent texture of fine porcelain. Those dark red scars were scattered randomly across her back like plum blossoms falling onto snow, presenting a kind of decadent, broken beauty that made Ming Lang’s throat tighten.

Ji Chenli’s upper body was bare, while her lower body was draped with a quilt. Ming Lang’s gaze followed the curve of Ji Chenli’s spine downward until it was abruptly blocked by the cotton quilt near her tailbone, right where the most imaginative part of the curve was hidden. Instinctively, Ming Lang’s hand moved toward Ji Chenli’s lower back, wanting to lift the obstructive quilt.

“What are you doing?” Ji Chenli pulled the quilt tight vigilantly and struggled to turn her head to question Ming Lang.

Ming Lang gave a light cough and raised her hand, which was covered in ointment, looking perfectly righteous. “Applying medicine.”

“Is there a wound there too?” Ji Chenli asked suspiciously. “But it doesn’t hurt.”

“Yes, a minor wound. Not serious.”

“Oh.” Ji Chenli still didn’t let go of the quilt. “Forget the minor wounds then. Are you done? Thanks.”

“Okay.” Ming Lang quickly packed up the medicine tray, feeling a hidden regret that she hadn’t succeeded. “Then I’m going out.”

She walked to the door, then turned back to remind her: “Call me if you need anything.” She said this every time, but it actually served no purpose. Ji Chenli never initiated contact with her; even if something was wrong, she would seek out a doctor or nurse first.

Ji Chenli had just breathed a sigh of relief, but Ming Lang came back in less than a minute. Ji Chenli was stunned. “What are you back for?”

“I thought it might be inconvenient for you to put on your clothes…”

“It’s convenient!” Ji Chenli said hurriedly. “Extremely convenient!”

“No, the doctor said your injury—”

“Then I won’t wear clothes, alright!” Ji Chenli blurted out in desperation.

Ming Lang didn’t react at first, then gave a playful smile. “Are you serious?”

“S-Serious! Get out!” Ji Chenli muttered, her face turning slightly red.

But Ming Lang walked over anyway. She pulled the quilt from Ji Chenli’s waist up to cover her shoulders. Using the quilt as a shield, she carefully helped Ji Chenli roll over to lie flat on her back before she finally left.

Ji Chenli watched her go, wondering how long it would take for this injury to heal. She lamented that she must have been cursed; filming a movie had been so perilous that she’d even run into an earthquake—a 0.0001% probability—even when she had tried her best to avoid the original date.

The room was cold. She pulled the quilt up a bit higher when suddenly there were several thuds against the window. Ji Chenli clutched the quilt vigilantly and turned toward the window. “Who is it?”

A thin curtain hung over the window, and there seemed to be a vague silhouette behind it. Ji Chenli asked again, “Who’s there?” The person behind the curtain did not answer.

Ji Chenli didn’t dare be careless. she grabbed the glass water cup and hid it under the quilt. The ward was on the second floor. The window was closed, but Ji Chenli couldn’t remember if she had locked it.

Soon, the thief peeking through the window in broad daylight gave her the answer: it wasn’t locked. The person pushed the window open and slipped in from behind the curtain.

Then Ji Chenli saw a woman with messy hair and brick dust on her face. She was already gripping the cup, but when she recognized the person, she gasped in shock: “Han Xinyuan?”

Han Xinyuan still had one arm in a cast. It was a mystery how she had climbed up. Panting, she leaned against the window and gave Ji Chenli a smile. She didn’t forget to raise her cast-bound arm to wave, bowing like a British gentleman and offering a perfect smile: “Good day, my dear Miss Ji Chenli.” Unfortunately, her image had been completely ruined; her clothes were wrinkled and hung awkwardly on her frame—it was a bizarre sight.

“Weren’t you supposed to go back to C City?” Ji Chenli asked.