After Becoming Roommates with My Flirty Ex-Girlfriend - Chapter 23

Yu Xia hadn’t taken such a long nap in ages. Dazed and disoriented, she opened her eyes, unsure of where she was or what time it was.

The familiar, comforting presence beside her made her close her eyes again. In a hoarse voice, she murmured, “I want to eat…”

Her consciousness drifted like a small boat on gentle waves, peach-colored petals raining down in a mesmerizing shower. The floral downpour blurred her vision, making it impossible to find her way back for what felt like an eternity.

The music drifting in from the open door, the absence of a mandatory family dinner—it felt as if she were floating on a cloud, mistaking this place for home. Her parents had taken Yu Nian for a medical checkup, leaving only the aunties at home. As usual, before mealtime, Auntie would ask her what she wanted to eat.

Without thinking deeply, lulled by the peaceful atmosphere, she frowned and replied, “I want braised pork belly with preserved mustard greens.”

With that, she closed her eyes, intending to sleep until dinner.

Zheng Yun said coolly, “I don’t know how to make that.”

Yu Xia’s brain, still foggy from sleep, struggled for a good half-minute to understand why Auntie Zhang suddenly couldn’t make braised pork belly with preserved mustard greens. Only then did it dawn on her:

This isn’t Auntie Zhang.

It wasn’t Auntie Zhang, who secretly cooked special meals for her when Yu Nian wasn’t around. It was Zheng Yun, her beautiful and gentle girlfriend.

Her groggy mind felt like it had been doused with three buckets of ice water, jolting her awake. She sat up abruptly, nearly knocking Zheng Yun off the bed. Zheng Yun clearly hadn’t been awake long; her long hair lay in disarray, her dewy peach blossom eyes opened sleepily, her lips flushed pink, her cheeks rosy, and even the exposed shoulder peeking out from under the blanket glowed with a delicate blush.

In Journey to the West, she would have been a peach blossom spirit, the most beautiful being in all three realms. Yu Xia was mesmerized, unable to tear her gaze away, until she suddenly remembered what she had just said.

“…What do you want to eat?” Yu Xia rubbed her back, trying to cover up what had just happened.

“Braised pork belly with preserved mustard greens, of course,” Zheng Yun replied with a chilly smile, looking even more like a man-eating peach blossom demon. Yu Xia shivered and fell silent.

“Why aren’t you talking, Xiaxia?” Zheng Yun leaned closer, pressing her palm against Yu Xia’s arm and whispering in her ear, “Didn’t you just say you wanted braised pork belly with preserved mustard greens?”

Yu Xia had the unsettling feeling that if she didn’t say something, the peach blossom demon would turn her into braised pork belly with preserved mustard greens. She stammered an explanation, “I thought I was at home, and Auntie was asking me what I wanted to eat.”

Zheng Yun let out a soft hum of amusement and flopped back onto the bed, the force of her movement shaking the mattress.

“I thought when you woke up and saw how beautiful I looked, you’d…” Zheng Yun clenched her fist, then suddenly opened it, mimicking a firework explosion. “Boom! Head over heels.”

Yu Xia looked down at her, her expression softening with tenderness and amusement she didn’t even realize she was showing.

“And then you told me you wanted braised pork with preserved mustard greens,” Zheng Yun pouted dramatically.

“You look beautiful,” Yu Xia said, gently stroking her hair.

Zheng Yun’s dark hair cascaded like seaweed, framing her exquisitely beautiful face—like a lotus emerging from water. Her eyes, brimming with affection, sparkled brightly as she gazed up at Yu Xia, her voice mischievous.

“Did it make your heart flutter?” she asked, her smile radiant.

“Mm-hmm.”

Chen Zhu had once told Yu Xia that almost no one could resist someone who went out of their way to cheer them up. Most people’s lives were monotonous—the daily 8 a.m. roll call in school, the repetitive swipes of subway cards at work. Then suddenly, someone appears, racking their brains to add a little joy to your mundane routine, all just to lift your spirits.

During military training, an upperclassman had pursued Yu Xia. On a sweltering summer day, she stood under the shade of a tree, sweat glistening on her forehead, just to hand Yu Xia an ice-cold bottle of water when the group was dismissed. Yu Xia politely thanked her but declined, saying she didn’t like cold drinks.

In the small supermarket at the canteen, Chen Zhu accepted the bottled water Yu Xia handed her. The icy chill sent a shiver through Chen Zhu. She asked Yu Xia how she could bear to refuse such a simple gesture—it was just a bottle of water.

At that time, Yu Xia and Chen Zhu were merely acquaintances who occasionally ate together. Yu Xia simply replied that she didn’t like owing people favors. Chen Zhu lamented, “But Senior Sister came all this way just so you wouldn’t have to squeeze into the crowded supermarket with all those sweaty people after dismissal.”

The weather that day was exceptionally hot. Several people had fainted from standing at attention in the afternoon sun, and the leaders, fearing further incidents, dismissed the troops early. A boisterous crowd surged into the canteen supermarket. Amid the clamor, Yu Xia abruptly declared, “I don’t drink that brand of water.”

“What are you thinking about?” Zheng Yun tugged impatiently at her sleeve, pulling Yu Xia back from her reverie.

“What brand of water do you drink?” Yu Xia suddenly asked.

Zheng Yun named an unfamiliar brand.

The empty water bottle arced through the air, landing in the trash heap. Its plain packaging blended into the colorful pile of refuse, rolling once to reveal the two-character brand name—a name that, across a year’s passage of time, stood in stark contrast to Zheng Yun’s answer.

Yu Xia understood.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t resist being coaxed or made happy; it was that she couldn’t resist that person.

The setting sun lazily descended, its orange-yellow glow streaked with hints of pink and violet, outlining the distant cityscape. Cicada song drifted through the narrow crack in the window, mingling with the sound of the river winding its way through the valley, crashing against the stone cliffs like an open-air concert hall.

The lead singer, however, was restrained, unable to fully express herself.

Her sole audience member, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying the performance.

Yu Xia stroked Zheng Yun’s disheveled hair, listening to her suppressed moans against her ear. The hem of Zheng Yun’s skirt fell to her thighs, her pale skin brushing against Yu Xia’s arm as their breaths intertwined. Zheng Yun clung tightly to Yu Xia’s neck, her slender fingers clawing helplessly. Her neatly trimmed nails accidentally grazed Yu Xia’s delicate skin, leaving faint red marks.

Yu Xia gripped Zheng Yun’s wrist.

The cold metal pressed against her throbbing pulse, swallowing even her soft moans. Only the rustling of fabric remained, a soft, rhythmic sound. It wasn’t until the “eighth ocean” was born in the right-side room on the third floor of Chuntianli that Yu Xia finally stopped admiring the lead singer’s performance.

Zheng Yun struggled to catch her breath, tears falling in heavy drops. Yu Xia sat silently beside her, wiping away the water droplets from her body. Zheng Yun’s long, wet lashes appeared even darker than usual, framing eyes with peach-pink corners and pupils veiled in a watery sheen. Her soft lips were so red they seemed almost bloodstained, and her pale skin glowed with a faint blush, making Yu Xia afraid to look too long.

Exhausted and utterly drained, Zheng Yun lay limp, letting Yu Xia tend to her.

It took a long moment for her to gather her scattered thoughts, which had drifted above the clouds. She blinked slowly.

Just as Yu Xia braced herself for a scolding for her recklessness, Zheng Yun asked in a low, hoarse voice, “Didn’t you want to eat preserved mustard greens with braised pork belly?”

“Go? Changing targets before reaching the target restaurant is common practice,” Yu Xia replied, wiping Zheng Yun dry. She then began meticulously cleaning her own fingers.

Zheng Yun wanted to help, but she was too exhausted. She could only lie on Yu Xia’s lap, gazing up at her as Yu Xia’s eyes lowered, her jawline sharp and refined, a thin layer of sweat glistening on her skin as she focused intently on cleaning her fingers.

The slender fingers hovered near her face, allowing her to examine the tool that had just brought her to such heights. Suddenly, she chuckled softly.

Yu Xia cast a puzzled glance her way. Having just finished wiping her last finger clean, she tossed the tissue into the bedside trash can and whispered, “What are you laughing at?”

Zheng Yun beckoned. “Come closer. Lean down. I want to tell you a secret.”

Yu Xia lowered her head, her cool face drawing near. The lingering traces of their earlier entanglement still hung in the air, hazy and thick. A strand of her long hair, tucked behind her ear, brushed Zheng Yun’s cheek. Before Yu Xia could react, Zheng Yun pulled her head down and pecked her lips.

The kiss was neither forceful nor gentle, neither painful nor ticklish—like a city that skipped spring and jumped straight into summer after a single rain.

This kiss was like a life-sustaining elixir, restoring a sliver of Zheng Yun’s energy.

But Yu Xia wouldn’t let her off so easily.

As daylight faded and the moon rose, Zheng Yun finally surrendered.

The room was in utter disarray. Zheng Yun went to shower while Yu Xia gathered the soiled sheets and duvet cover to take downstairs for washing.

The laundry room had self-service washers and dryers, so Yu Xia decided to handle it herself. She stuffed the bedding into the washing machine, pressed the start button, and turned to leave, only to bump into Xiao Jiu, who was sleepily emerging from her room.

Summer afternoon naps were too comfortable. The air conditioning ran all afternoon, and Yu Xia didn’t wake up until dinnertime.

“What are you doing?” Xiao Jiu rubbed her eyes, her voice still drowsy.

“Washed some sheets,” Yu Xia replied, then added, “Could you help me dry them later?”

“Hmm…” Xiao Jiu turned to Xiao Qi behind her. “Yu Xia said she baked a cake.”

Xiao Qi caught Xiao Jiu, both amused and exasperated, and told her to go wash her face. Watching Xiao Jiu wobble back inside, Xiao Qi teased, “Didn’t you just change the sheets? Changing them again?”

“I’m a clean freak,” Yu Xia replied coldly, then headed upstairs.

“Yeah, right,” Xiao Qi rolled her eyes behind Yu Xia’s back. “If you did it, just admit it. Clean freak, my ass.”

Yu Xia: ……

Reaching the third floor, Yu Xia returned to her room and noticed the sound of rushing water mixed with a muffled voice coming from the bathroom. Zheng Yun seemed to be on the phone. Yu Xia’s throat was still a bit hoarse, and she couldn’t make out the conversation through the door.

As Yu Xia closed her room door, Zheng Yun’s voice abruptly stopped. She hastily said, “I’ll talk to you later,” and then fell silent.

Yu Xia had never been curious about other people’s private matters, yet she couldn’t suppress her overwhelming desire to know everything about Zheng Yun.

Who could be on the other end of that call?

She hadn’t clearly heard the earlier part of the conversation, only Zheng Yun’s hurried and slightly angry “I’m not saying anymore.” Zheng Yun was always gentle and kind to everyone, her occasional complaints mild and restrained. But just now, she had lashed out at someone with a sharp edge.

The two had met in an unfamiliar place, their only friends being Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu. Yet, in the end, they were only slightly closer than strangers. Yu Xia knew nothing of Zheng Yun’s past, only her present and an uncertain future.

A sense of bewilderment washed over Yu Xia, like spending a day reveling in an amusement park only to have the castle, fireworks, and countless toys vanish the moment the clock struck midnight, leaving her alone in an empty world.

Did she and Zheng Yun truly have a future together?

The rising questions and anxiety drove her to desperately want to understand everything about Zheng Yun. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she inhaled the lingering scent in the room, finding a sliver of comfort. She resolved to ask Zheng Yun about the call when she came out.

When Zheng Yun emerged, Yu Xia found herself unable to speak.

Zheng Yun, drying her hair, exuded the refreshing scent of bath gel mingled with warm steam. A faint smile played on her lips, betraying no trace of her earlier emotions. She made no mention of their previous conversation, asking softly, “Did you just go downstairs? Did you run into Xiao Qi and the others?”

Yu Xia knew Zheng Yun was worried she might be too sensitive and get teased by Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu. She briefly recounted what had happened. Zheng Yun nodded, praising her, “Xiaxia, you’re so clever.”

Yu Xia lowered her gaze, unsure what Zheng Yun meant. She couldn’t fathom Zheng Yun’s true feelings, nor did she know how to ask about them.

“Come help me dry my hair,” Zheng Yun said, sitting by the window and pushing it open. She leaned against the windowsill.

The last rays of sunset had faded, leaving only a blue twilight on the horizon. Riverside streetlights flickered on, and more people strolled along the path after dinner, their figures silhouetted beneath lush green trees.

Having just bathed, Zheng Yun wore only a camisole nightdress. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, revealing her smooth, bare back. Her shoulder blades protruded slightly, like a butterfly poised to take flight.

Yu Xia momentarily lost her train of thought.

The hot air from the hairdryer lingered in one spot for too long, burning Zheng Yun, who flinched. Her butterfly wings drooped, unwilling to move. Yu Xia suddenly snapped out of her daze, switched off the hairdryer, and touched the spot where it had been resting. The heat made her fingertips recoil.

Frowning, she quickly apologized, “I’m sorry.”

Zheng Yun stood up, took the hairdryer from her hand, and pulled her into a hug. Meeting her eyes with concern, she asked, “Did something else happen just now? You seem distracted.”

Her words carried genuine warmth, unchanged from before. The embrace of her warm, bare body and the familiar scent radiating from her offered reassuring comfort, yet Yu Xia remained uneasy.

“Is it something difficult to talk about?” Zheng Yun pressed when she received no immediate response.

“…No,” Yu Xia offered a flimsy excuse. “I was just thinking I haven’t called home in a while. I should call them tonight.”

In truth, Yu Xia almost never called home. The few times she did were usually polite birthday greetings. Most of the time, she remained as silent and transparent as if she were still living there, rarely contacting her family.

She just needed an excuse to start the conversation.

She wasn’t good at acting and worried her performance might be clumsy. But the words flowed smoothly from her mouth: “You’ve been out for so long. Don’t your family ever ask about you?”

Zheng Yun’s expression remained calm. “I told them before I left. They… trust me.”

Yu Xia lied, her gaze drifting, and naturally missed the fleeting flicker of uncertainty in Zheng Yun’s eyes.

“That’s good,” Yu Xia nodded, relieved to have broken the ice. Her next question came more easily: “Don’t your other friends ask about your trip?”

She figured Zheng Yun was good at making friends—certainly better than she was. Zheng Yun could strike up a conversation with anyone, and no one disliked her warm, approachable demeanor. Someone like that must have many friends.

Zheng Yun smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Are you trying to learn more about me?”

Yu Xia didn’t deny it.

She wanted to know everything about Zheng Yun. The things she didn’t know felt like roots, anchoring her tightly to this floating piece of driftwood. Knowing more would bring her peace of mind.

“Everyone’s busy during summer vacation. A quick chat now and then is enough,” Zheng Yun said, sounding troubled. “I’m probably getting more scam calls than anything else.”

She wrapped her arms around Yu Xia’s neck. The sudden interruption meant Zheng Yun’s hair wasn’t completely dry, the ends still damp.

“I just got a scam call,” Zheng Yun sighed. “He asked if I’d spent three million yuan. I said yes.”

“And then?” Yu Xia asked, playing along.

“I told him I’d spent three million yuan on an apartment for my little girlfriend, a golden cage for my darling,” Zheng Yun said, her eyes sparkling brightly, showing no hint of unease. “He accused me of pretending to be rich and hung up.”

Yu Xia didn’t press further. She murmured softly, “I’ll wait for you to buy a big house and keep me in your golden cage.”

Zheng Yun nodded.

Yu Xia’s lowered lashes trembled slightly.

“Xiaxia,” Zheng Yun said earnestly, “from now on, if you have any questions, just ask me directly.”

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Yu Xia picked up the hairdryer and carefully took Zheng Yun’s hair in her hand, gently drying the damp ends.

She neither agreed nor showed any displeasure.

She thought, “I have things I don’t want to talk about too, so it’s perfectly reasonable and fair for Zheng Yun to have her own secrets.”

Just like countless times at home, she had practiced soothing herself so often that it had become second nature.

But this time, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, she couldn’t suppress the lingering resentment in her heart. Because of her parents’ repeated broken promises and their weak apologies afterward, she had chosen to withdraw from that relationship and live independently.

Zheng Yun was different.

Yu Xia knew all too well that accumulated disappointment inevitably leads to estrangement. Remembering Zheng Yun’s repeated forgiveness and unconditional acceptance, Yu Xia suddenly felt she should give Zheng Yun—or perhaps their relationship—another chance.

Yu Xia ran her fingertips through Zheng Yun’s silky long hair, checking her work. The moment she switched off the hairdryer, she asked, “Really?”

Several minutes had passed; most people would have forgotten their earlier conversation. Yet Zheng Yun picked up right where they left off.

“Really,” she replied.

Yu Xia tilted her head and placed the hairdryer on the table, her dark hair obscuring her cheek.

She didn’t want to be disappointed again.