After Becoming Roommates with My Flirty Ex-Girlfriend - Chapter 16

An hour after Zheng Yun left, Yu Xia’s mind was still buzzing, as if it had been repeatedly trampled by a group of college students, who had even kicked it a couple of times for good measure. She couldn’t make sense of it for the longest time.

Zheng Yun had simply said her piece and left, offering no further explanation. Yu Xia, for her part, couldn’t bring herself to ask the questions that might have kept her there.

Yu Xia rarely suffered from insomnia.

Few things weighed on her mind enough to keep her awake at night. Yet Zheng Yun’s single sentence had her tossing and turning until the early hours, still unable to decipher its meaning.

Having skipped dinner, she wasn’t particularly tired to begin with. But as insomnia dragged on, hunger suddenly struck.

Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu usually kept some instant noodles on hand. If guests wanted to cook, they were welcome to use the kitchen supplies—just not poison themselves.

As the night deepened, Yu Xia decided to grab a quick bite. But when she went downstairs, she found an unexpected figure: Xiao Jiu.

She couldn’t tell if Xiao Jiu’s fever had broken; the dim lamplight couldn’t illuminate her face in the thick darkness. Leaning against the night, Xiao Jiu lit a cigarette, took a couple of puffs, and then began coughing violently. After a few sips of water, the coughing returned.

Smoking wasn’t a niche activity, but Yu Xia had never imagined Xiao Jiu would smoke, especially while she was sick.

“Don’t tell Xiao Qi,” Xiao Jiu rasped as soon as she saw Yu Xia. Her voice was rough, like sandpaper scraping across stone, whether from coughing or smoking.

“Mm,” Yu Xia replied. She wasn’t one to meddle in others’ affairs and rarely asked about things that didn’t concern her.

“Doesn’t she care about your coughing?” Yu Xia asked, grabbing an ice-cold cola and leaning against Xiao Jiu, pulling the tab open.

“She’s exhausted today and sleeping soundly. As long as she doesn’t hear me, it’s fine,” Xiao Jiu replied. She still couldn’t finish the cigarette, her coughing fits interrupting her sentences, forcing her to pause repeatedly before finishing each phrase.

After putting out the cigarette, she coughed less and took small sips of water to soothe her throat.

If Zheng Yun were here, she would know how to keep the conversation flowing. But Yu Xia didn’t. She was a terrible conversationalist, usually preferring to listen in silence.

Xiao Jiu didn’t need Yu Xia to talk anyway. She continued speaking, “The previous guests didn’t smoke. This batch has someone who does, so I bummed a cigarette. Just this one.”

Yu Xia recalled the university students who had gone wild on the rooftop during Zheng Yun’s speech. She said flatly, “It was quite noisy.”

Xiao Jiu chuckled. “I was like that in college too.”

Yu Xia paused before replying, “Then you must have been quite lively.”

Xiao Jiu burst out laughing. After a couple of chuckles, she gasped for air and erupted into a violent coughing fit. When she finally recovered, she massaged her throat and sighed, “I was like this when Xiao Qi first met me. She said she loved my lively spirit.”

Her gaze shifted to Yu Xia, and her words trailed off.

Yu Xia looked at her, puzzled.

After a few seconds of hesitation, Xiao Jiu whispered, “She said… she wondered if I was just as lively in bed.”

Yu Xia froze mid-sip of her cola, the bubbles tickling her throat and causing her to sneeze.

“That’s why I said back then that I didn’t know if she really liked me or just wanted to sleep with me,” Xiao Jiu said, scratching her head.

She hadn’t brushed her hair after waking up, leaving it a tangled mess at the back of her head. Scratching it only made it worse.

“I see,” Yu Xia replied, unsure how to respond. She chose to remain silent.

“Do you like Zheng Yun?” Xiao Jiu asked bluntly.

Yu Xia instinctively wanted to say no.

The word “dislike” was like her protective mechanism, automatically triggering whenever she faced a problem. The words reached her lips, but she forced herself to swallow them back.

“I bet you do like her a little,” Xiao Jiu said. After all, she was a few years older—Zheng Yun should even call her “elder sister” by age. Living a few more years had given her a sharper eye for people. “Right?”

Yu Xia didn’t deny it.

“We tease you two so much because it’s obvious you’re mutually interested,” Xiao Jiu said, her interest piqued, even her coughing subsiding. “If more people had teased us back then, we wouldn’t have taken so many detours.”

Yu Xia paused for a moment before asking, “How can you tell if someone likes someone else?”

She had never understood how people could so easily discern another person’s feelings.

“Zheng Yun’s already laid her cards on the table,” Xiao Jiu teased. “As for you, I remember when we first met, your face was as cold as an Antarctic iceberg. If you tolerate someone sticking to you every day, isn’t that a sign of affection?”

Yu Xia knew Zheng Yun had told Xiao Qi in the kitchen that she liked her, but “like” came in many forms. There was Chen Zhu’s admiration for the neighbor’s elder sister, devoid of romantic feelings—pure admiration for an older sibling figure. Or the kind of affection one might have for teasing a kitten.

“If you’re worried her feelings aren’t genuine, just ask her directly,” Xiao Jiu said, stepping back. “I know you two are from different cities. If it doesn’t work out, you can just never see each other again. The vacation’s too short to waste time.”

“Most importantly,” Xiao Jiu continued, transforming into an impromptu relationship coach, “don’t let liking someone make you anxious and insecure.”

Yu Xia suddenly felt enlightened.

She and Zheng Yun hadn’t met at school. They were from opposite ends of the country, strangers who had crossed paths in a place that belonged to neither of them. Here, she didn’t have to worry about someone stealing her affections if she confessed her feelings, nor did she need to fear the consequences of failure—if things went south, she could simply pack up and travel to another city.

Xiao Jiu bent down, heading toward her room, and whispered, “Remember to keep this a secret.”

The lobby dimmed. Xiao Jiu turned back with a smile. “Look, your girlfriend’s here. The night’s still young—you have plenty of time to talk.”

Zheng Yun yawned before noticing Yu Xia hiding in the shadows.

She had changed into pajamas—a long-sleeved top and a floor-length skirt—and had thrown on a jacket as she came downstairs, likely looking for a midnight snack.

“I’m going to bed. Bye!” Xiao Jiu darted off.

The door closed.

Zheng Yun’s voice was slightly hoarse, but unlike Xiao Jiu’s raspy cough-induced hoarseness, Zheng Yun’s voice sounded like a lover’s soft murmur upon waking, adding a hint of intimacy to the darkness.

“Just woke up?” Zheng Yun asked.

When she wasn’t fully awake, Zheng Yun exuded an aloofness that kept people at arm’s length. Yu Xia’s newfound courage began to dissipate.

“I wasn’t asleep,” Yu Xia replied.

Zheng Yun had already moved closer, taking the ice-cold cola from Yu Xia’s hand and taking two long swigs. The icy liquid jolted her awake.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Zheng Yun asked, handing the cola back.

“Thinking about things. Couldn’t sleep,” Yu Xia answered bluntly.

“About me?” Zheng Yun pressed.

The darkness amplified Yu Xia’s budding emotions, fueling her reckless courage. She used the cover of night to search for Zheng Yun’s eyes, her fingers tightening around the can, the veins on her wrist straining.

“About you,” Yu Xia admitted openly.

Unable to see Zheng Yun’s face, she confessed something she would never dare admit in daylight with such ease.

Now it was Zheng Yun’s turn to be surprised. She had only been bluffing, never expecting Yu Xia to admit it so readily.

“Can I listen?” Zheng Yun finally fully awoke, her voice now clear and bright.

“I was thinking…” Yu Xia struggled to speak, each word a betrayal of her usual reserved nature. She had to summon every ounce of courage to continue.

Fortunately, Zheng Yun proved to be an excellent listener, patiently waiting without pressing for answers.

Yu Xia nearly dug her nails into her palm, forcing herself to finish. “Do you like me?”

She bit her lip, grateful for the cloak of darkness that allowed her to confess as if wearing an Invisibility Cloak, as if she had assumed a different identity.

Zheng Yun didn’t answer.

The silent night felt like a heavy hammer, pounding relentlessly on Yu Xia’s heart, each blow striking her most vulnerable spot. She nearly fled in panic.

In that brief minute, a torrent of thoughts flooded her mind: buying the earliest train ticket out of the city tomorrow and never returning, to avoid ever reliving this brave but slightly ridiculous moment.

“If you don’t like me, just pretend I didn’t ask,” Yu Xia said, turning to leave.

Zheng Yun gently grasped her wrist. “I do,” she whispered.

Yu Xia froze.

Zheng Yun’s hand was warm, her grip firm but not tight—just enough to convey her intention to keep Yu Xia there.

“I was just wondering… after all I’ve done, you still didn’t realize I was pursuing you?” Zheng Yun sighed, a mix of helplessness and frustration in her voice.

“…No,” Yu Xia replied, genuinely surprised.

She had perceived each event as a natural occurrence, logical and justified, with no hint of contrivance. In the past, the upperclassmen and underclassmen who had pursued her would go to great lengths to engineer “chance” encounters. For example, music students from the neighboring university would suddenly claim an interest in art history, insisting on attending her classes—only to fall asleep halfway through.

Even Zheng Yun was speechless.

She might as well have broken into Yu Xia’s room in the middle of the night, crawled into her bed, and then tearfully claimed that Yu Xia had slept with her and now had to take responsibility.

“Now that you know, what do you plan to do?” Zheng Yun asked again.

“…I need to calm down,” Yu Xia replied.

The two retrieved an umbrella from the entrance and tiptoed up to the third-floor balcony.

The other college students were already asleep, having exhausted their energy during the day. They collapsed into bed at night, making them remarkably easy to manage.

As the balcony door swung open, a deluge of rain and frigid air flooded their minds. Yu Xia, wearing only a short-sleeved shirt, shivered violently. She retreated to grab a jacket. Holding the umbrella, the two women crouched beside the balcony’s flowerbed, settling into a silent vigil.

After a while, Yu Xia finally regained some clarity of thought.

“You refused to give me your contact information,” Yu Xia dredged up old grievances.

“That’s because I knew how to find you. Yuncheng is small, and I know every habitable spot nearby,” Zheng Yun replied.

“When others misunderstood our relationship, you didn’t clarify it,” Yu Xia continued to dig.

“I was afraid you’d think I had ulterior motives,” Zheng Yun answered innocently.

Yu Xia fell silent, and Zheng Yun didn’t respond either.

The two crouched together, like mushrooms growing side by side.

“I don’t know if I like you,” Yu Xia said, her voice tinged with confusion. “I don’t think I’ve ever truly liked anything.”

Even her pursuit of art stemmed from her innate talent, which led her down this path. She approached everything with diligence, painting included. No one had ever asked her if she actually enjoyed painting, and she herself didn’t know.

“That’s easy to fix,” Zheng Yun said, turning her head to face Yu Xia, their faces so close their breaths mingled, the warmth of Zheng Yun’s breath brushing Yu Xia’s lips.

Yu Xia tilted her head in confusion, and a soft, dragonfly-light kiss landed on her lips, rippling through the water like concentric circles. Yu Xia barely registered it before it ended.

“Do you hate me kissing you?” Zheng Yun asked softly.

“…I don’t dislike it,” Yu Xia murmured, shaking her head in a daze. She hadn’t even fully registered what had just happened.

“What about this?” Zheng Yun tilted her head and kissed Yu Xia, drawing out the kiss into a long, lingering embrace.

Zheng Yun’s kissing skills were mediocre at best, and Yu Xia’s were even worse. Their kisses resembled more like nibbling at each other’s lips, a mix of sucking and biting. They didn’t even notice when the umbrella slipped from their grasp.

The light drizzle that began to fall on them only seemed to fuel their passion, like pouring oil on a fire that blazed eight feet high. Freed from the umbrella, they grew even more reckless. Crouching felt too restrictive, so they stood up, wrapping their arms around each other as they stumbled into Zheng Yun’s room.

Drenched in rain and covered in mud, neither cared. Their only regret was their own awkwardness and lack of skill.

The pillow bounced slightly from the force, the soft, fluffy quilt flattened beneath their weight. The room remained dark, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlamp outside, which barely illuminated the windowsill of the third-floor room.

In the dim, yellowish light, Yu Xia could barely make out the contours of Zheng Yun’s face, her heaving chest, and her suppressed, ragged breaths. It felt like a dream on a spring night, a dream where she was invited into a sweet, passionate romance by the senior she had secretly admired for so long.

“Will this be annoying?” Zheng Yun lay in bed, her lips aching, all sleepiness long gone. Only her emotions churned in her mind, colliding and swirling, leaving her unsure whether she was dreaming or awake.

“Not annoying,” Yu Xia finally affirmed her resolve. She had always been aloof in friendships, considering even a single word wasted on those she disliked, let alone intimate contact.

During Yu Xia’s pause, Zheng Yun rose and groped in the dark for her lips.

Their lips met, their breaths mingled—an intimacy that couldn’t be closer.

They stumbled into each other’s arms, Zheng Yun suddenly seizing the initiative, forcing Yu Xia backward.

Yu Xia’s back pressed against the cold wall, and she shivered violently. Her head cleared, and she abruptly realized what she was doing.

The warmth and scent of the person in her arms were intimately familiar, as if they had been lovers for months or years. As ice and fire collided, Yu Xia calmly recognized her own feelings—a sentiment unlike any she had experienced before, a powerful possessiveness.

That deep-seated, urgent possessiveness made it clear to her: she liked Zheng Yun.

As their kiss deepened, Zheng Yun switched on the light.

The sudden brightness banished the darkness, forcing them both to squint before opening their eyes.

Zheng Yun’s earlobes were crimson, her cheeks flushed pink, and the corners of her eyes tinged red. Her lustrous peach blossom eyes overflowed with desire and undisguised affection. Her kiss-worn lips, now marked with tiny cuts and speckled with bl00d, made it impossible to tell whether they were reddened by passion or stained by bl00d.

The long sleeves and floor-length skirt had concealed all her allure. Yu Xia belatedly realized the meaning behind Zheng Yun’s outfit when she’d asked to borrow the hairdryer earlier that day. It wasn’t just a pursuit; it was a blatant seduction, an invitation for Yu Xia to explore uncharted territory.

Yu Xia tilted her head back, her raven hair cascading down her back like smooth silk, brushing against the hand she had wrapped around Zheng Yun’s waist. The woman’s slender abdomen, devoid of any excess flesh, rose and fell slightly as she spoke.

“And now,” Zheng Yun asked, her gaze fixed intently on Yu Xia’s eyes, “do you like me?”