A Washed-up Movie Queen's Divorce Strategy [Rebirth] - Chapter 54

In the end, it was Ji Chenli who pushed Ming Lang away first. The street was becoming crowded with passersby, and more and more people were staring at their embrace with curious eyes. Ji Chenli had no interest in being a circus attraction for these foreigners. She pushed Ming Lang back and took two steps away. They stood at an unknown street corner, surrounded by strangers. A nearby streetlight cast a cold, white glow directly onto the crown of Ming Lang’s head, suiting her perfectly. Ji Chenli used the light to look at Ming Lang, but half of the woman’s face was hidden in the shadow of her hair; her eyes were downcast, her expression unreadable.

They walked back in silence, side by side but with a half-meter gap between them. Like strangers, they returned to the hotel. Standing at her own door, Ji Chenli said goodnight to Ming Lang. Only then did Ming Lang manage a slight smile. “Someone once said that ‘goodnight’ means ‘I love you.’”

Ji Chenli smiled back, a faint, distant expression that mirrored Ming Lang’s own signature style. “There aren’t that many hidden meanings. It’s mostly just self-deception.”

Ming Lang nodded, her eyes still lowered as she gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I suppose so.”

The two of them stood awkwardly in the hallway, neither moving to go into their respective rooms. After ten minutes of stalemate, Ji Chenli finally asked, “When are you returning to China?”

“Tomorrow. You?”

“Tomorrow as well, but I’m flying back from Paris. We likely won’t be on the same route.”

“It’s on the way. I’m also returning from Paris,” Ming Lang said. “Together?”

“Fine.” Anyway, since they were abroad and had already spent the day together, there was no point in being difficult about a travel route now.

Ji Chenli added, “Then… get some rest.”

As she turned to enter her room, Ming Lang called out, “Chenli.”

“Yes?”

“About today… I’m sorry,” Ming Lang said awkwardly. “We are no longer involved. I overstepped my bounds today.”

Hearing her say that, Ji Chenli actually felt a twinge of melancholy. She smiled thinly. “Then let’s just forget it. Ming Lang, these few days of ours… were nothing more than a dream.”

Once we go back, the dream ends.

Ji Chenli and Ming Lang’s rooms were mirror images of each other, their headboards separated only by a single wall. Both spent the night sleepless.

Western Europe had always been a romantic place ripe for bursts of hormones, and even Germany, known for its rigor, was no exception. The scent of romance in the air was so strong that even Ji Chenli was affected. Her heart, which had been quiet for so long, began to feel a tiny stir of agitation—an agitation caused by the very same person.

Ji Chenli chided herself, shaking her head to stop her stray thoughts.

Go to sleep. Everything will be fine once I’m back home, Ji Chenli thought, closing her eyes in self-hypnosis. She counted sheep, then dumplings. Whether sheep or dumplings, they all eventually morphed into Ming Lang’s face flying before her eyes. When she finally drifted into a hazy dream, she saw Ming Lang huddled in her arms like a delicate little bird, weeping.

After drifting in and out of sleep until the middle of the night, Ji Chenli finally admitted she was suffering from insomnia. Ming Lang? A delicate little bird? Ji Chenli stared blankly at the ceiling, mentally picturing the scene until she gave herself goosebumps. But recalling the teary-eyed Ming Lang in her dream, she felt it wasn’t that hard to accept. Ming Lang was beautiful, and when she cried, she looked like a pear blossom in the rain—so lovely that it actually made one… want to bully her.

Aaaargh!

Ji Chenli bit the corner of her quilt, suppressing the fire in her heart. She tossed and turned, trying a dozen different positions. Finally, she sat up in bed with hair like a bird’s nest, leaning against the headboard, and raised a hand to tap rhythmically on the wall.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Beside her own tapping, there was clearly another faint knocking sound. She stopped and strained her ears, but there was nothing.

Thump. Ji Chenli tapped again.

Sure enough, there was a response from the other side.

The person living next door was Ming Lang. Naturally, the sound was coming from her.

Two people whose combined psychological ages approached a hundred spent the entire night playing “knock on the wall.”

Ji Chenli wouldn’t have believed it even if she were beaten to death—that she and Ming Lang would have a day like this.

Stepping out early the next morning, the two of them looked at each other’s four dark “panda eyes” in silence. Ji Chenli couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing. “You’re in your fifties, and still so childish.”

Ming Lang answered very seriously, “My life stopped long ago.” On the day Ji Chenli died.

At that, Ji Chenli’s laughter died down.

Ming Lang claimed her money was all gone. Although Ji Chenli didn’t know how this woman managed to blow through twenty thousand euros in a single day, she chose to believe her for the time being. She paid for Ming Lang’s ticket to Paris, feeling another pang of heartache for her wallet.

“You have to pay me back once we’re home. Double!”

“Are you that short on money?” Ming Lang asked.

“I’m not short on it now, but I will be later.” Ji Chenli took out her money; naturally, she bought economy class tickets. Ming Lang had come empty-handed and was leaving empty-handed. Most of the gear Ji Chenli had prepared for her aborted Africa trip, along with the clothes and bags she’d bought, had been sent back to C City via international express. She only carried a backpack with a few changes of clothes. After they found their seats, Ji Chenli continued, “I’m not staying in the entertainment industry. Without that quick source of income, it’s better to be frugal.”

“What career change are you planning?”

“I don’t know yet, maybe…” Ji Chenli wasn’t on guard and almost blurted it out, but she stopped herself abruptly. She gave a dry laugh. “That’s my business. You needn’t worry about it.”

This time abroad was to be treated as a “romantic encounter” that could have no conclusion. Now that they were returning, Ji Chenli saw clearly what could be said and what couldn’t. The encounter was over; their respective lives had to go on.

Fortunately, Ming Lang was sensible and didn’t ask further. She wasn’t good at starting topics, so she lapsed into silence. To avoid an awkward atmosphere, Ji Chenli casually brought up a topic. “How are you so familiar with Berlin?”

“My master lives here.”

“Why would your master live here of all places?”

“He admires Hitler.”

“…” Ji Chenli was left speechless by Ming Lang’s response. She rolled her eyes and thought: No wonder the student she taught is so eccentric; the master himself is a pervert for admiring a war maniac like that.

The flight was two hours long. Whenever Ji Chenli brought up a topic, Ming Lang would answer honestly. Every sentence was just a few words—concise and to the point—like a well-behaved student listening to a teacher. Ji Chenli had an illusion: at this moment, if she asked Ming Lang to reveal the Ming family’s top secrets, she probably would.

Later, Ji Chenli felt she was talking too much and assumed Ming Lang was annoyed. She stopped the Q&A mode, but Ming Lang, seeing she hadn’t started a new topic, asked, “Why did you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Saying things. Talking.”

“Oh, that…” Ji Chenli laughed weakly. “I was afraid you’d find me noisy. We didn’t sleep all night—aren’t you tired?”

“No,” Ming Lang shook her head. “I want to hear you talk.”

I didn’t know how to cherish it before, and I lacked it for twenty years. I can’t think fast enough to catch up; I’ll never find you noisy again.

“Well, I’m tired.” Ji Chenli narrowed her eyes and rested. “Let’s sleep for a bit.”

Until the plane landed, Ji Chenli kept her eyes closed, but she didn’t sleep for a single second. Ming Lang’s gaze was so naked and direct; how could she possibly sleep?

In Paris, Xu Luyang and Ming Lang’s bodyguards were already waiting. Ji Chenli intended to part ways there, but Xu Luyang, seeing her boss’s expression, knew she didn’t want Ji Chenli to leave. She pulled out all the stops, using her silver tongue to weave tales of terror—even bringing up the threat of terrorist attacks. She finally persuaded Ji Chenli to go back with them to the hotel Ming Lang had booked.

This wasn’t Berlin; Ming Lang’s daily needs were handled by professional staff. Naturally, they would stay in the most elite places in Paris. But to Ji Chenli’s surprise, they arrived at a mere three-star hotel. Ji Chenli breathed a sigh of relief; if they had stayed in a hotel costing tens of thousands a night, she would have spat blood.

However, Xu Luyang had only booked a room for Ming Lang. By the time the group arrived, the hotel was fully booked. Ji Chenli planned to find another place, but Xu Luyang talked her out of it again. Ji Chenli had to admire the assistant’s eloquence; by the end, she made it seem like Ji Chenli not staying there tonight would be a personal insult to her entire family.

“Then I’ll have to trouble Assistant Xu to share a room with me for the night,” Ji Chenli said. “I’m not picky, I can sleep on the floor.”

“This…” Xu Luyang looked troubled. “Miss Ji, it’s not that I mind, but I’m flying back to China today. The rest of the group are bodyguards. You see…”

When Xu Luyang put it that way, Ji Chenli realized she had likely been played.

Feeling stifled, she clutched her backpack and said coldly, “Then don’t trouble yourself, Assistant Xu. I’ll just find another hotel.” It was still a few months until Fashion Week; it’s not like the city was so packed that this was the only hotel available.

“Wait, Miss Ji!” Xu Luyang grew anxious. “You…”

“Wait a moment,” Ming Lang, who had been silent, spoke up. Ji Chenli looked at her sarcastically, her expression saying I knew it.

Ji Chenli had thought Ming Lang had changed, but she hadn’t. She was still the same person—no different from how she was in China, and just as repulsive. That slight heart-flutter she felt in Berlin was nothing more than an illusion.

“A-Fei, A-Hua,” Ming Lang looked at Ji Chenli and called the two burly men standing behind her. “Escort Miss Ji to find a place to stay. Protect her well.”

“Yes!” A-Fei and A-Hua replied in unison, flanking Ji Chenli. Standing nearly 1.9 meters tall with rippling muscles that even suits couldn’t hide, they looked like temple guardians. Ji Chenli was startled and suddenly felt it was awkward to leave.

Ji Chenli was someone who hated troubling others. She had insisted on leaving because she felt Ming Lang was setting a trap. Now that Ming Lang was personally arranging for her to go, she looked into Ming Lang’s eyes and felt ashamed seeing the hurt expression there. Perhaps she really was being too cynical; Ming Lang wouldn’t stoop to such petty tricks.

“Fine… I’ll… I’ll share with you for a night…”

Ming Lang said, “You’ll be uncomfortable.”

“No, I won’t be uncomfortable.”

It wasn’t until she saw Ji Chenli and Ming Lang back in the room that Xu Luyang breathed a sigh of relief. She thought: The President really is capable; she has a way with her wife.

But what about the George V Four Seasons room she’d actually booked for her boss? Since Xu Luyang had nowhere to stay tonight anyway and had done Ming Lang such a huge favor, she assumed the boss wouldn’t mind her taking over the luxury suite.

The bodyguards were left helpless. The longest road they’d ever walked in their lives was the path of their boss’s schemes to catch her wife.