After Becoming Roommates with My Flirty Ex-Girlfriend - Chapter 21

Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu’s destination was a roadside rice noodle shop that also sold steamed buns and fried dough sticks for breakfast. The peak breakfast rush had passed, and the shop was sparsely populated. The four of them found a table and sat down. The white plastic tabletop was stained with greasy smudges and didn’t look particularly clean.

Xiao Qi pulled out a tissue and wiped the table, first cleaning Xiao Jiu’s side before wiping her own. Xiao Jiu sat down and immediately started playing a game on her phone, her brow furrowed in concentration. Even with the volume turned low, the sounds of battle—shouts, clashing swords, and explosions—filled the air, suggesting an intense virtual conflict.

The shop had no air conditioning, but a large fan oscillated back and forth, occasionally delivering a brief gust of cool air. Outside, the street bustled with activity: hawkers’ cries, car horns, and children’s wails mingled together, creating a cacophony that resembled a city-wide market day—hot, noisy, and chaotic.

As Yu Xia glanced up at the large red menu overhead, her arm was nudged. Zheng Yun, sitting beside her, lowered his head and carefully wiped away the greasy stains the damp cloth had missed, using a stack of tissues.

“One bowl of beef rice noodles, two portions of spicy broth,” Xiao Jiu ordered without looking up. “Extra cilantro.”

“Clear broth,” Xiao Qi corrected her. “Your throat still isn’t healed. If you eat spicy food now, you’ll end up quacking like a duck.”

Xiao Jiu looked up in alarm. “No way! It’s not like I’ve never had spicy food with a cold before. Besides, how spicy is the red broth anyway?”

As the two continued to bicker over their preferences, Yu Xia and Zheng Yun had already placed their orders. Their tastes were similar: clear broth without cilantro. The kitchen fired up, the range hood humming loudly, providing background music for the still-arguing pair.

“I’ll be fully recovered soon,” Xiao Jiu declared, abandoning her game and speaking with unwavering conviction. “And even if I did end up sounding like a duck, I’d be a duck with a sweet voice!”

Yu Xia: …

She didn’t quite understand the petty squabbles of young couples. She and Zheng Yun had never argued.

In the end, Xiao Qi relented. Xiao Qi ordered red broth, while Xiao Jiu got clear broth. Xiao Qi then shared a few bites from her bowl with Xiao Jiu, who had been craving it for days.

The occasional breeze from the fan couldn’t fully dispel the summer heat, especially with hot food on the table. The rice noodles arrived, the beige broth glistening with oil. Sliced beef and scallions adorned the tangled noodles. Yu Xia stared at the rising steam, sweat already beading on her back before she’d even taken a bite.

Zheng Yun flipped the noodles a few times and began eating. She removed the hair tie from her wrist, gathered her long hair into a bun, and tucked a few stray strands behind her ear, her slender fingers tracing the curve of her earlobe, making the silver hoop earring stand out.

The earlier heat had completely dissipated.

The two girls across from her were still arguing. Xiao Jiu insisted Xiao Qi promise to love her even if she turned into a sweet duck, while Xiao Qi, utterly exasperated, retorted, “If you don’t eat it, you won’t turn into a spicy duck!”

Yu Xia had already started eating.

The sign outside claimed this was a Yuncheng specialty, and Yu Xia had indeed never tasted anything like it before. The noodles were finer than any she’d ever had, yet they retained a firm bite. The broth was rich but not salty—genuinely delicious.

The argument ended when Yu Xia and Zheng Yun both put down their chopsticks. Xiao Qi raised her hands in surrender.

“I promise, even if you turn into a duck, I’ll still love you.”

“A sweet duck!”

“I promise, even if you turn into a sweet duck, I’ll still love you!”

Ten minutes later, Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu had also finished. Xiao Jiu stubbornly refused to eat much of the spicy noodles, but after tasting the heat, she obediently slurped down her clear broth noodles. Xiao Qi paid the bill for all four of them, declaring it covered their share of the expenses.

“Didn’t we already give the money yesterday?” Zheng Yun fanned herself, the rain having cleared completely, leaving not a single cloud in the sky as the sun beat down relentlessly.

“Yesterday was the matchmaker’s gift,” Xiao Qi clarified, “today is the wedding gift.”

Yu Xia took a plastic fan being handed out by a roadside real estate promotion and fanned Zheng Yun as they walked. Zheng Yun followed the breeze and noticed the fan in Yu Xia’s hand. “Where did you get that?” she asked.

Yu Xia pointed back the way they’d come. A person in a company uniform stood there, a stack of fans in hand, handing them out to passersby.

The fans were more expensive to produce than flyers, but who would refuse a free fan on a hot summer day? The staff member’s supply quickly dwindled. Zheng Yun managed to snag the last fan just before they ran out.

Shielding her eyes from the sun, Zheng Yun walked back to Yu Xia, who was waiting patiently. Noticing Zheng Yun staring thoughtfully at the fan, Yu Xia leaned in to look as well.

The fan featured a 3D rendering of an apartment building, accompanied by bold text:

“Newest Development! Prime Location, Full Amenities, Only 3000!”

“That’s so cheap,” Zheng Yun remarked, stepping closer to Yu Xia. Yu Xia fanned her gently, dispelling some of the sun’s heat.

“It’s incredibly cheap. In a first-tier city, even a slightly better location would only buy you a toilet, and in prime areas, not even that.”

“If it weren’t so far, I’d move here,” Zheng Yun sighed. “I actually quite like Yuncheng.”

“Where were you planning to live originally?” Yu Xia asked.

Lush trees stood side by side, their dense foliage pressing down on the canopy to shade pedestrians. Zheng Yun, with her long, jet-black hair and skin as pale as snow, stood beside the white pedestrian railing in simple shorts and a T-shirt, her head slightly bowed. Her long, thick lashes concealed the emotions in her eyes, making her look like the quintessential female lead in a coming-of-age film.

The surroundings were too noisy. The red light ahead blared, and car horns blared. Zheng Yun, still looking down at the small print on the other side of the flyer, glanced up blankly at the sound. Yu Xia immediately knew she hadn’t heard clearly.

Pressing for answers was often a recipe for humiliation. It was like asking “What are we?” during the ambiguous early stages of a relationship, or demanding “Why aren’t you talking?” when the other person fell silent. Most of the time, you wouldn’t get a good answer.

In the rare instances Yu Xia had pressed for answers, she’d almost always been blamed for her impulsiveness and criticized for her immaturity. So she learned to observe coldly from the sidelines, stifling her curiosity for questions that would never be answered.

But this wasn’t just anyone.

A hardworking farmer might weep with joy when rain finally breaks a long drought. To Yu Xia, Zheng Yun was like the life-giving spring rain in her barren existence, accompanied by the thunder of the Awakening of Insects, stirring her dormant emotions.

She felt she should be more patient with this feeling.

So she pursed her lips, mustered her courage, and prepared to ask again.

“What are you doing here?” Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu crowded around. Xiao Jiu peered curiously from behind Yu Xia, asking, “Going to buy groceries?”

In the end, Yu Xia couldn’t bring herself to ask the question.

She swallowed the question, letting Zheng Yun lead her by the hand. The four of them walked side by side again. After a few steps, Zheng Yun remembered Yu Xia’s earlier hesitation and asked, “What were you going to say earlier?”

Yu Xia shook her head. Now wasn’t the right moment; she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu continued chatting, their conversation flowing endlessly even after years of friendship. They discussed everything from the neighbor’s restaurant cat having five more kittens (and why it hadn’t been spayed) to the child who scored only 5 points on their math exam, having guessed just one multiple-choice question correctly.

At this, Xiao Jiu clapped her hands and exclaimed, “When I was his age, I could get a 60 on my math tests!”

Yu Xia remained uninterested.

Zheng Yun fanned her gently and whispered, “Why are you so down? Is it because I didn’t hear the question properly earlier?”

Zheng Yun’s ability to read people was exceptional, so sensitive that she could accurately guess Yu Xia’s every mood shift. The more Zheng Yun understood, the more Yu Xia hesitated to answer. Her childish sulking made her feel ashamed to face Zheng Yun.

“She’s not unhappy,” Xiao Jiu interjected, her sharp ears catching Zheng Yun’s words. She turned to look at Yu Xia. “Isn’t she always like this?”

In the eyes of Xiao Jiu and Xiao Qi, Yu Xia had always been reserved, rarely smiling. Her skin was pale and luminous, her nose high and straight, and most of the time she exuded a cold, unapproachable aura. Only when she was in particularly good spirits would the corners of her lips lift slightly.

“Go away,” Zheng Yun waved her hand, shooing away the meddling Xiao Jiu. Her slender wrist swayed gracefully as she twirled the fan, the black hair tie pressing against her wrist bone.

“Xiaxia?” Zheng Yun turned to Yu Xia, her voice full of concern.

“It’s nothing,” Yu Xia quickly fabricated a question. “I just saw someone selling zhe’ergen and wondered if you wanted some?”

“I don’t eat it,” Zheng Yun said, momentarily taken aback. She smiled helplessly. “I’ve tried it before, but I really can’t stomach it.”

“Me neither,” Yu Xia chimed in, steering the conversation back on track.

Zheng Yun continued fanning Yu Xia to cool her down, then cautiously asked, “Is that all?”

Yu Xia shook her head. “That’s all.”

To prevent Zheng Yun from pressing further, Yu Xia began fanning Zheng Yun in return. Soon, both were fanning each other. Xiao Qi couldn’t stand it any longer and snatched the fan from Zheng Yun’s hand. “Are you two putting on a skit in the middle of the street?”

The three noisy friends, with Yu Xia occasionally chiming in, wound their way through the streets to the vegetable market, just one block from where Yu Xia and Zheng Yun had first met. The market was covered by a large canopy to shield against the rain, and the air buzzed with hawkers’ cries, haggling voices, and the rhythmic thud of cleavers chopping ribs—a cacophony far louder than the street they’d just left.

In this small-town market, regulations were lax. A man on an electric scooter barged through the crowd, shouting for people to move aside, a bag of pork dangling from his handlebars. The cold, greasy meat brushed against Yu Xia’s arm, making her wrinkle her brow in discomfort.

Zheng Yun pulled her closer, positioning herself on the outer edge to shield Yu Xia.

Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu strolled through the market, buying as they went. After a while, Xiao Qi turned to ask, “Do you two have any favorite dishes?”

Zheng Yun was already picking out vegetables.

Yu Xia watched her silently, her gaze fixed on Zheng Yun’s movements.

She recalled their first meeting: Zheng Yun, radiant in a qipao, seemed utterly out of place yet haggled over prices like a goddess descending into the mundane world.

Yu Xia had held Zheng Yun’s hands many times—delicate, clean, with soft fingertips. Those hands, which never hesitated to handle vegetables covered in soil and dew, could pick out the freshest produce from a pile, just like that sweet, juicy orange from their first encounter.

Without asking, Zheng Yun grabbed several bunches of Yu Xia’s favorite greens and tossed them into a plastic bag. Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu had already wandered off to buy meat, walking hand-in-hand toward the butcher shop, each carrying a bunch of vegetables—a picture of a loving couple casually shopping for groceries on their evening stroll.

Estimating she had enough, Zheng Yun looked up to call the owner for the bill, only to find Yu Xia staring intently at her.

“Anything else you want?” Zheng Yun asked.

“No,” Yu Xia replied. “How did you know what I like?”

She hadn’t even shared many meals with Zheng Yun, yet he seemed to know her preferences as if he had a cheat code. Yu Xia wasn’t a picky eater; at home, she would eat anything Yu Nian liked. But what she loved, Yu Nian disliked.

When Yu Xia was younger, she would occasionally add a dish she liked to the dinner table. But Yu Nian would throw a tantrum, claiming the sight of those dishes ruined her appetite. After that, Yu Xia never again got to eat her favorite foods at home.

Yu Nian’s tastes differed sharply from hers, and she even loved cilantro. Though Yu Xia hated it, she usually had to pick it out and eat around it. Once, when she voiced her objection, Yu Nian threw a fit and refused to eat all evening. Later, as bedtime approached, Ke Qian came to Yu Xia’s room to talk.

Yu Xia still vividly remembered Ke Qian’s apologetic expression as she held her hand and said, “Please bear with it, Xiaxia. Niannian’s illness has already slowed her development compared to other children her age. Her meals are the most important thing in our family.”

Ke Qian added, “I know this is unfair to you.”

So they knew they were being unfair to her.

In the end, Yu Xia silently nodded in agreement.

Yet Zheng Yun, someone she had known for only half a month, clearly knew what she loved to eat—and not just one thing, but several.

“I noticed you took a few extra bites of those dishes earlier,” Zheng Yun said casually, handing the shopkeeper several bags of groceries and wiping her hands with a tissue from her pocket. “You ate the other dishes too, just not as much.”

“Good habit, not being picky,” Zheng Yun replied, accepting the bags from the shopkeeper and scanning the QR code to pay. “But if you like something, eat more of it. It’s not like we can’t afford it.”

We.

The market buzzed with its usual cacophony, the noise bouncing off the greenhouse roof and back down, grating on the nerves. Yet amidst this chaos, Yu Xia finally grasped the truth, as if she were a high-ranking monk meditating in a secluded mountain temple, finally attaining enlightenment.

So that’s why I always felt more at ease outside the house than inside. Because that home, to me, had never truly been “our home.”

No one who genuinely considers another family would disregard their emotional needs. If the scales are always tipped, it can only mean the weights were never balanced to begin with.

During high school, Yu Xia attended a private boarding school where students could choose to live on campus or commute daily. Using the excuse of wanting a few extra minutes of sleep, Yu Xia began living on campus. The school fees were steep, and most students were pampered, so few chose to board, leaving enough single rooms for every resident.

The school cafeteria offered a wide variety of dishes, and the taste was decent. In her single dorm room, she didn’t have to navigate social niceties or wait for anyone to go to school with. To avoid being in the same class as Yu Nian and feeling constrained again, she chose subjects completely opposite to Yu Nian’s during specialization, greatly reducing their chances of running into each other at school.

Among the art students, Yu Xia’s academic grades were considered excellent. As a boarding student who kept a low profile at school, teachers rarely called home except for the routine parent-teacher conferences each semester.

She lived like a ghost in her own home for three years. Only after the college entrance exams did Ke Qian finally carve out time from work and her issues with Yu Nian to pay attention to her eldest daughter.

Yu Xia calmly told her that she would be attending university out of town.

“Let’s go, Xiaxia,” Zheng Yun said, patting her hand to snap her out of her daze. “Don’t space out.”

“Do you care about other people this much?” Yu Xia asked, pressing her lips together as she took the plastic bag from Zheng Yun’s hand.

“Why would I care about other people?” Zheng Yun replied, fanning them both with their last remaining small fan. “I thought you’d be really hard to win over back then. I was prepared for a long-term battle.”

“A long-term battle?”

Having bought everything they needed, they decided to leave the crowded market and wait outside.

“To capture a woman’s heart, you must first capture her stomach. I’ll start by securing your stomach with my exceptional cooking skills, then move on to capturing your heart. That’s how I’ll win you over,” Zheng Yun said, her voice conspiratorial as they walked into the shade of a tree. Compared to the clamor of the market, the cicada’s song now sounded melodious and soothing.

“And it only took a week,” Yu Xia said, still dazed. She hadn’t even had time to experience Zheng Yun’s heart-capturing strategy before she’d already surrendered, laying down her armor and waving the white flag.

“Do you know what this proves?” Zheng Yun leaned close to Yu Xia’s ear, undeterred by the heat, and whispered mysteriously.

“What?” Yu Xia asked, still dazed.

“It proves that our attraction is irresistible, beyond our control.”

And it was indeed beyond their control.

For the past twenty years, Yu Xia had believed herself to be asexual, indifferent to everyone. Most people seemed no different from moving tree stumps in her eyes, while the rest were just annoying flies. Yet, for the first time in her life, she felt her heart flutter for a girl, a burning desire to be constantly by her side.

Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu soon emerged, each carrying two large bags. Yu Xia called a taxi. Though the guesthouse wasn’t far, walking there in the sweltering summer heat would have been torture. The four of them returned to the guesthouse in a grand procession, just as the university students were resting in the lobby.

When they left, none of the university students were awake, and the guesthouse was unattended. Xiao Qi left a note for the group leader, locked the front door, and the group settled on the sofa to watch a movie. They happened to run into the girls returning and immediately rushed over to help carry the bags.

“How long have you been down here? Are you hungry?” Xiao Qi asked, standing amidst the group, feeling like a mother hen.

“About fifteen minutes. We were getting a little hungry, but we were waiting for you to get back!” The students grinned as they helped her put the groceries in the kitchen.

“Should we eat out or wait for us to make lunch?” Xiao Qi asked, quickly checking the ingredients to make sure there was enough for everyone.

“Xiao Qi-jie’s cooking is the best!” the group leader said sweetly.

Yu Xia and Zheng Yun were sweltering and decided to go upstairs for showers. Zheng Yun had climbed a few steps when she suddenly dashed back down, telling Xiao Qi not to touch the groceries she’d brought back—she’d cook them later.

After Zheng Yun left, Yu Xia didn’t continue upstairs either. She seemed to have unconsciously developed the habit of walking with Zheng Yun, as if her right hand needed to be holding Zheng Yun’s hand to feel at ease.

Back on the third floor, the sounds from the first floor faded into a distant murmur, barely audible.

“I’m going back to take a shower,” Zheng Yun said, bidding her farewell.

Yu Xia returned to her room as well.

The air conditioning had cooled the room considerably. The bed remained exactly as she had left it that morning, the quilt still arched as if someone were sleeping beneath it. The CEO romance novel lay on the desk, a faint citrus scent lingering in the air.

After showering and drying her hair, Yu Xia noticed no movement outside her door.

She dove under the covers and waited a while longer, but still no sound came.

After a moment’s thought, she picked up the CEO romance novel and began reading. Ten minutes passed, and still no sign of Zheng Yun.

The typical trope of CEO romance novels seemed to be that the protagonists never communicated properly. In this case, a supporting character had accidentally bumped into the Alpha, and paparazzi had captured the moment. The two leads, who had just reconnected, were now stubbornly refusing to speak to each other again.

Yu Xia flipped through the pages. A misunderstanding that could have been resolved in two sentences had been dragged out for dozens of pages. Her brow furrowed as she slammed the book shut. The room fell silent, save for the diligent hum of the air conditioner.

Why hasn’t Zheng Yun come to find me yet?

Although Zheng Yun hadn’t explicitly said she would come to Yu Xia’s room after showering—adults need personal time to handle their own affairs, a principle Yu Xia understood perfectly—why hadn’t Zheng Yun come? She hadn’t knocked on Yu Xia’s door or sent her a message.

Yu Xia finally couldn’t sit still any longer.

She stood up, left her room, and knocked on Zheng Yun’s door.

No response.

The silence stood like a door god, barring her entry.

Downstairs, a movie was playing, its special effects shaking the floor. A sudden, thunderous roar jolted Yu Xia awake from her reverie.

She suddenly realized that in just half a month, she had developed an overwhelming emotional dependence on Zheng Yun.

As she lowered her gaze in thought, the door quietly creaked open a crack.

Acting faster than her mind could process, Yu Xia gently pushed the door open, revealing a bright, tidy room. Sunlight streamed through the glass window, casting the shadow of the frame onto the floor. The rustling of leaves, barely audible amidst the cicada’s drone, hinted at a perfect day.

Zheng Yun wasn’t in the room.

Yu Xia didn’t know where Zheng Yun had gone. For the first time, Zheng Yun hadn’t told her or taken her along. The joy of the previous day remained vivid in her memory. As her thoughts drifted, she recalled Zheng Yun’s tender gaze as she turned to her and said, “our home.”

“Zheng Yun, get me some kitchen paper!” Xiao Qi shouted, her voice piercing through the floor. The keyword acted like a power button for Yu Xia, who paused for a few seconds before walking downstairs.

The first floor was bustling with noise. As Yu Xia descended, she saw Zheng Yun enter the kitchen with something in her hand.

She followed her inside.

Cooking in the summer heat was a grueling task. To avoid this, Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu had installed an air conditioner in the kitchen. Though warmer than the outside, the temperature remained tolerable.

As Yu Xia entered, Zheng Yun was pouring vegetables from a basin into a wok. She had changed into a black short-sleeved shirt that accentuated her pale complexion. Her long hair was pulled up in a high bun secured with a hairpin, her expression focused, her usual gentle demeanor tinged with a hint of coldness. The water-soaked greens sizzled as they hit the hot oil, but Zheng Yun didn’t even flinch, merely fluttering her eyelashes.

The kitchen wasn’t large, and with four or five people crammed inside, it felt cramped. Yu Xia stood awkwardly by the doorway, feeling out of place. Xiao Jiu noticed her first and shifted aside to let her in.

Yu Xia walked over to Zheng Yun’s side.

The range hood roared as Zheng Yun focused intently on the color of the dish in the wok, momentarily unaware of the figure standing behind her. It wasn’t until she finished cooking and turned around that she noticed Yu Xia leaning against the wall, staring intently at her without even glancing at the food.

“The laundry room is in the back,” Xiao Qi pointed to the door beside Zheng Yun.

Seeing both women turn their heads, Xiao Qi added, “Check if the sheets are done washing for me.”

Zheng Yun placed a bowl over the dish she had worked so hard to prepare and led Yu Xia toward the back door.

The laundry room housed several washing machines and dryers, all of which had finished their cycles. The wooden door provided minimal sound insulation, but fortunately, the range hood’s deafening roar drowned out most of the conversation between Xiao Qi, Xiao Jiu, and the college students on the other side of the wall.

Yu Xia hugged Zheng Yun tightly. The black clothing absorbed the heat, and the scorching steam from the wok seeped through her cotton short sleeves, warming her chest. A torrent of emotions threatened to burst forth.

“What’s wrong, Xiaxia?” Zheng Yun asked, patting her shoulder reassuringly. The laundry room had no air conditioning, and the girl’s warm breath brushed against her shoulder.

Sunlight streamed onto the marble workbench, into the empty bamboo basket, and onto their legs pressed together. Yu Xia had a thousand words swirling in her mind—accusations, confessions—but after circling around and around, she finally lowered her gaze and said, her voice heavy with melancholy:

“I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”