A Washed-up Movie Queen's Divorce Strategy [Rebirth] - Chapter 47

Since Ming Lang had already taken the initiative to suggest finding a time to finalize the divorce, Ji Chenli was naturally more than willing. She didn’t delay; as soon as the child was discharged and sent home, she contacted Ming Lang. However, Ming Lang had an important meeting that day, so they agreed to meet at the Civil Affairs Bureau two days later.

The two days flashed by. Ji Chenli organized all the necessary documents the night before, putting them in a sealed bag by her bedside. Fearing any oversight, she checked them back and forth several times. That night, she suffered from insomnia. She tossed and turned, unable to sleep—whether it was excitement, nervousness, or perhaps a lingering melancholy, she couldn’t tell. The confused entanglements of her past life and this life replayed before her eyes like a revolving lantern. It wasn’t until dawn that she managed to fitfully nap for two hours before being woken by her dutiful alarm clock.

Brushing her teeth in front of the mirror, she saw two massive dark circles hanging under her eyes. She had intended to go out with just light makeup, but having no choice, she had to apply several layers of concealer to barely hide the exhaustion.

The appointment with Ming Lang was at 10:00 AM. Ji Chenli never liked to be late and left half an hour early. She arrived at the Civil Affairs Bureau at 9:45 AM, only to find Ming Lang was earlier than her, already standing by the entrance waiting.

Ming Lang had rarely changed into casual attire: a solid-colored T-shirt paired with cropped pants and white shoes, revealing a slender, strong pair of ankles. It was a very casual look, but because Ji Chenli usually saw her in formal wear—either business suits or evening gowns—this sudden relaxed outfit looked as if it had been meticulously chosen.

Even when silently waiting, Ming Lang was as meticulous as ever. Unlike most people who would lean or sit while playing with their phones during a moment of relaxation, Ming Lang stood ramrod straight, her hands flat against her sides. Her posture was more standard than Ji Chenli’s military training stances back in school. However, because of Ming Lang’s long limbs, she looked like a model standing there, not at all strange.

Seeing Ming Lang had arrived, Ji Chenli quickened her pace and gave an apologetic smile. “Have you been waiting long?”

Ji Chenli had dressed up specifically for today; compared to Ming Lang, she was attending in full regalia. She wore slim stilettos, highlighting the smooth lines of her calves, which were dazzlingly white. Ming Lang couldn’t help but swallow as her gaze traveled upward, only to be abruptly blocked at the knees. Ji Chenli was wearing a light-colored dress that just barely covered them.

Ming Lang felt a slight pang of disappointment and continued to look up. Ji Chenli had her hair in a trendy loose floral bun, with two slightly curled strands left intentionally at her forehead. It made her face look small—as fresh and tender as a young girl, wearing a trace of a smile. Ming Lang dazed for a moment; it was as if she had returned to the first time she saw Ji Chenli. The Ji Chenli of that time was just like this: as fresh as newly picked scallions, smiling at everything, full of joy for the world.

“Just got here.” Fearing she would provoke Ji Chenli’s resentment if she kept staring, Ming Lang shifted her gaze inconspicuously. “You are very beautiful today.”

Ji Chenli was visibly stunned. Across two lifetimes together, Ming Lang had never once praised her beauty. To hear it for the first time just as they were finally parting was a profound irony.

Ji Chenli didn’t know what expression to use to respond, so she simply smiled. “Thank you. You are very beautiful, too.”

“Let’s go in,” Ming Lang said.

“Okay.”

Divorce is actually quite a tedious affair. Ji Chenli had searched online before coming, but the results were all about couples tearing each other apart in court over property, which had terrified her. She had expected it to be terrifying, but after going inside, it was actually fine. Especially with Ming Lang by her side, they were received by a dedicated specialist the moment they entered. Several people escorted them with smiles to a specially cleared reception room for tea. The service was so thorough that Ji Chenli could hardly believe it was a government office. Ji Chenli didn’t even have to worry about the paperwork; she only needed to hand her documents to the smiling staff. The rest was waiting. After waiting in the reception room with Ming Lang in silence for less than an hour, the documents were returned to Ji Chenli, finalized.

It was almost unbelievably fast.

Ji Chenli held the divorce certificate with the official steel seal, flipping through it several times. She blankly pinched her own cheek; the pain made her brow twitch before she looked up in a daze. “That’s it? It’s done?”

The staff member gave a slightly fawning smile and replied, “Yes. Is there anything else you require, Miss Ji?”

“So… I’m divorced?”

“Yes.”

“I’m free?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, that divorce certificate felt like it weighed a thousand pounds in Ji Chenli’s hand, making it hard to breathe. Yet, it also seemed light enough to fly away, taking with it the massive boulder that had been crushing her heart. Ji Chenli’s mind went blank. She didn’t know if she was happy or not. She walked out of the Civil Affairs Bureau in a trance until the direct sunlight stung her eyes. She instinctively shielded her face with her hand, and only then did it hit her: she was divorced.

All the causes, effects, and memories of the past—whether happy, painful, exciting, or sad—were severed from this point forward. They no longer had any entanglement with Ji Chenli.

From today on, Ji Chenli finally escaped Ming Lang’s shadow. She was no longer living for Ming Lang; she could finally live for herself with her head held high.

For the first time, Ji Chenli sincerely thanked heaven for giving her a second chance.

“Chenli, are you happy?” She heard Ming Lang ask behind her.

“Happy. Very happy.” Ji Chenli’s eyes felt hot. She tilted her head up slightly, fearing her tears would slide down. “I am very happy.” Tears welled in her eyes, but her mouth curved into a distinct smile. “I’ve never been this happy in my life.”

“Ming Lang, it’s good to be able to live again, isn’t it?”

Ming Lang looked at Ji Chenli’s back. “Yes.”

Ming Lang had spent twenty years, and it took dying once, to find Ji Chenli again.

She had died in the same place where Ji Chenli had decisively ended her life. The hospital of those years had long since moved to a new location with better equipment. The once-new building had grown mottled, and the old hospital site had not yet been developed, turning into a hollowed-out, empty shell. Thus, no one noticed when Ming Lang jumped. She had held the intent to die, only to wake up. Upon opening her eyes, everything was strange yet familiar. Ming Lang stared into the mirror for a long time; the person in the mirror was young and bright, wearing a wedding dress with crimson lips. Then Ming Lang looked at the calendar on the desk; everything signaled that she had returned to twenty-seven years ago.

She was reborn.

The first thing in Ming Lang’s mind was to find Ji Chenli. She found her like a madwoman. It was true—it was indeed Ji Chenli, the person Ming Lang had thought of and yearned for during those twenty years. Ming Lang was ecstatic. In that second, she vowed to treat her well in this life, to place her in the most important position, to guard her as she bloomed, and never let her wither.

But Ji Chenli’s gaze was icy, and she had only two words for Ming Lang: “Divorce.”

With just that one look, Ming Lang understood. This was not the Ji Chenli she knew—or rather, not the Ji Chenli she wanted.

This Ji Chenli had already withered, yet she seemed to have been reborn from the ashes, with a different light in her eyes.

She was not the woman Ming Lang remembered, the one who would offer her entire heart with both hands.

Fate had played a massive joke on Ming Lang and Ji Chenli. If Ming Lang were still the Ming Lang who loathed Ji Chenli, the rebirth would have gone much smoother; Ming Lang would have signed the papers readily, and Ji Chenli and Tao Yuan would have lived a peaceful, worry-free life.

If Ji Chenli were still the Ji Chenli who adored Ming Lang, Ming Lang would only need to place her where she could see her, and as long as she was good to her, Ji Chenli would have surely repaid her ten or a hundred times over. Then they would have lived happily ever after, just like in a fairy tale.

But everything was different. Ji Chenli could only be this Ji Chenli who had been broken and glued back together; no matter how she was mended, the cracks would be obvious. Ming Lang could only be a Ming Lang forever burdened with guilt. Ji Chenli’s broken years were ultimately shattered; they could not be mended.

“Ming Lang.” Ji Chenli dried the tears in her eyes before she dared to turn back and look at the person who had been entangled with her for a lifetime. “Take care.”

“Take care,” Ming Lang said. “In the future… can I come see you?”

“Better if we don’t meet.” Ji Chenli sighed and then smiled, releasing all the stifled air in her chest. “One last ‘thank you.’ I’m going.”

“The movie—will you still film it?” Just as Ji Chenli stepped away, Ming Lang asked.

“Talk to my agent,” Ji Chenli replied without looking back.

“Ji Chenli!” Ming Lang called her name loudly.

Ji Chenli had already walked quite a distance. She stopped, but she did not turn around.

“Are you happy?”

Hearing this, Ji Chenli burst into laughter. She lifted her feet again and strode forward with long steps, not looking back. She merely waved her hand behind her, shouting while laughing: “Happy! Not just happy today—I’m going to stay this happy forever!”

Ji Chenli’s eyes were brimming with tears. She suddenly wanted to turn around, run back to Ming Lang’s side, and give her a giant, deep embrace. But Ji Chenli didn’t stop for a single step, walking further and further away.

Behind Ji Chenli was the entirety of her past life—that chaotic, hopeless life. As long as she didn’t look back, there was no hope that couldn’t be let go.

Any regrets? Yes.

Regret, but no remorse.

Ji Chenli thought that from today on, she was truly living for herself.

Ming Lang watched as Ji Chenli walked away and disappeared around a corner at the end of the street. She stood still for a moment until the phone in her pocket vibrated. Ming Lang dazed for a few seconds before taking it out and answering it.

“President Ming, congratulations.” Qu Hefeng’s voice came from the other end, carrying a laugh.

“Thanks,” Ming Lang said.

“It’s nothing. Just as long as President Ming doesn’t forget to let me have a little soup when you’re eating the meat in the future.” Qu Hefeng laughed loudly and hung up.

Ming Lang kept the phone to her ear, the dark undercurrents surging deep within her obsidian pupils.