After Becoming Roommates with My Flirty Ex-Girlfriend - Chapter 29

Yu Xia had thought the Yu Nian incident was over, but she was wrong.

Before dinner, a new friend request popped up on Yu Xia’s WeChat. Dismissing it, she turned off her phone and went downstairs with Zheng Yun to eat.

As they descended, Xiao Jiu and Xiao Qi were discussing where to go in the coming days. They had initially planned to attend the Torch Festival in the neighboring city, but Xiao Jiu had reconsidered. She didn’t particularly like fire; as a child, her hair had been singed by the kitchen stove while cooking alone at home. Terrified, she had dunked her head in the water tank, only to be scolded by her family for wasting water—hardly a pleasant memory.

After discussing it with Xiao Qi, they decided against going, reasoning that it was better to stay home than to go out and not enjoy themselves.

When Zheng Yun and Yu Xia came downstairs, Xiao Jiu asked for their opinions. Yu Xia didn’t mind where they went, as long as she could be with Zheng Yun.

Zheng Yun pondered for a moment before suggesting, “How about going to Nanqiao later? It’s on my way back to campus.”

Xiao Jiu shot her a sidelong glance. “Yu Xia doesn’t live that way. What, you’re going to take her back to campus afterward?”

Yu Xia pulled out a chair and sat down, adding, “My school starts late, so I’m not in a rush.”

Zheng Yun, a first-year graduate student, was scheduled to register on the 1st. Yu Xia’s school traditionally allowed returning students to arrive a week later, so she wasn’t in a hurry to go back.

“What’s fun to do in Nanqiao?” Xiao Jiu asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, having never been there before.

“Nanqiao has a beautiful river view,” Xiao Qi said, picking up some food for her.

“There are also a few cultural streets,” Zheng Yun added after a moment’s thought. “And I think there’s a massive anime and manga-themed base.”

Xiao Jiu’s eyes lit up. “I think I remember hearing about that!”

“And Asia’s largest amusement park,” Yu Xia chimed in.

Yu Nian had been obsessed with going there for her birthday, but she came down with a high fever and had to be hospitalized right before the big day. By the time she recovered, school had already started.

Since Yu Nian was a full-time boarding student, she couldn’t go. Her family took her absence as an opportunity to take a trip without her, posting photos of their happy outing on social media. Yu Xia only found out when she saw Yu Nian’s posts.

Of course, Ms. Ke Qian wouldn’t be too cruel. She bought several plush toys from the amusement park—ones Yu Xia absolutely hated—and gave them to her as gifts.

The memory still made Yu Xia feel nauseous.

Her appetite vanished. She chewed mechanically, each bite tasting like wax.

After a lively discussion, they finalized their plans: they would celebrate Yu Xia’s birthday at the end of August and set off immediately afterward.

Xiao Jiu patted her chest, declaring she would create the ultimate itinerary. Xiao Qi scoffed, pointing out that Xiao Jiu’s itineraries always went unused. Every time they landed, Xiao Jiu would collapse into bed for a full day and night before switching to “wing it” mode.

After dinner, Zheng Yun went upstairs to change. While waiting, Yu Xia pulled out her phone, remembering the friend request she’d received.

During her first year of college, Yu Xia’s WeChat account had been repeatedly posted on campus confession walls, causing her number to spread like wildfire in the comments. Overwhelmed by the constant notifications, she eventually switched to allowing only phone number-based friend requests.

Anyone who could find her on WeChat now must be someone she knew. It wasn’t hard to guess who had her phone number but wasn’t yet her WeChat friend.

Since Zheng Yun hadn’t returned yet, Yu Xia accepted the request, curious about what Yu Nian wanted.

To her surprise, the sender wasn’t Yu Nian at all.

Ms. Ke Qian sent her first message just as Zheng Yun reappeared, having changed her clothes.

Today, Zheng Yun wore the same qipao she’d worn when she first met Yu Xia, paired with simple flats. Her long hair was pinned up with a hairpin, her eyes sparkling with affection, and her beauty effortless and captivating.

Xiao Qi, who was sitting on the sofa, noticed her first and teased, “Reigniting the honeymoon phase?”

Zheng Yun looped her arm through Yu Xia’s, and Yu Xia smoothly pocketed her phone, coolly replying, “Every day is our honeymoon phase.”

Zheng Yun nodded in agreement. “We’re still in the honeymoon phase, after all.”

With Xiao Jiu absent, Xiao Qi couldn’t withstand the two-pronged verbal assault and surrendered. “I always feel like you two have been together forever.”

As they walked out, Zheng Yun winked at Yu Xia. “My days of single-handedly enduring the dog food are finally over.”

August was a summer frenzy, the accumulated heat of July bursting forth. Temperatures soared, remaining stifling even after nightfall. The streets were deserted of young people, save for the elderly leading children, fanning themselves with large palm-leaf fans as they strolled along the riverbank.

Yu Xia and Zheng Yun walked side by side, chatting intermittently. Yu Xia’s mind kept drifting back to news about Ke Qian, her thoughts elsewhere.

Zheng Yun didn’t mind. After finishing a sentence, she’d wait for Yu Xia’s delayed response, then cheerfully continue the conversation, as if the brief pause had never occurred.

Yu Xia instinctively tried to hide her emotions from Zheng Yun, but her restlessness was like water in a bucket. Even with the lid closed, once it overflowed, it would seep out through any crack.

Just as she finally resolved to check what Ke Qian had posted, Zheng Yun interrupted her.

“Xiaxia, what’s that?” Zheng Yun pointed to a patch of grass.

They had reached the spot where they had taken their last walk. Few people were around, and the night was deep and dark, the streetlights dimmer than in other areas.

Yu Xia followed Zheng Yun’s gaze to a burlap sack tied with rope, still wriggling. The sack rustled against the green leaves of the bushes.

It was definitely alive, but what was inside remained a mystery.

Yu Xia and Zheng Yun exchanged glances, their hesitation evident in their eyes.

Most children are taught by their parents not to pick up anything they find on the street, as it could be something dangerous. Under normal circumstances, Yu Xia would have walked away without a second glance. But today, she had a strong feeling that whatever was in the sack couldn’t be anything harmful.

She positioned Zheng Yun behind her for protection and cautiously approached the sack. As she drew closer, she heard faint meows—so soft they were almost drowned out by the incessant chirping of cicadas, audible only when she was right next to the sack. Zheng Yun clearly heard them too, her brow furrowing with concern. “Kittens?” she asked.

Yu Xia nodded.

A few minutes later, Yu Xia found a branch nearby and used it to pull the sack out of the bushes. When she opened it, she discovered three kittens and a mother cat. Zheng Yun turned on her phone’s flashlight, illuminating the scene. The mother cat’s eyes flickered open, her mouth moving soundlessly. A pool of fresh bl00d stained the ground beneath her, and the kittens’ fur was still damp and matted, clearly indicating they had been born recently.

Yu Xia frowned deeply.

Who could be so heartless? They’d dumped a newly delivered mother cat and her kittens in a tattered burlap sack on this dimly lit road, rarely frequented by residents. In this sweltering heat, without water, the cats might not survive the night.

“The nearest vet clinic is five kilometers away. I’ll go back and get my bike to pick you up,” Zheng Yun said, searching on her phone.

“Let’s go together,” Yu Xia replied, unwilling to wait alone.

Yu Xia wrapped the cats in the burlap sack and cradled them in her arms as they hurried back.

Zheng Yun called Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu to ask if they were at Chuntianli. Xiao Qi said they were at a supermarket downtown, and the car was gone.

Twenty minutes later, they returned to Chuntianli. While Zheng Yun searched for a box, Yu Xia used her phone to call a taxi. The mother cat’s breathing was barely perceptible, her vital signs almost nonexistent. Yu Xia held her close, only able to moisten her nose with mineral water for now.

The kittens were in slightly better condition, still able to move, though noticeably weaker than when they’d first been found.

Neither Yu Xia nor Zheng Yun had any experience caring for cats. After Zheng Yun emerged with the box, they exchanged helpless glances, uncharacteristically at a loss.

A few minutes later, the car arrived. The driver glanced at the box Yu Xia was holding and immediately waved his hands. “Sorry, I’m allergic to cat fur. I can’t take this fare.”

Yu Xia couldn’t tell if the driver was genuinely allergic or simply unwilling to take the fare. She didn’t argue, simply said “Okay” and canceled the ride.

News reports warned that Yuncheng’s temperature was about to reach its highest historical peak. Standing beneath the sidewalk trees outside Chuntianli in the spring heat, Yu Xia felt dizzy from the heat. The cicadas, usually just a noisy nuisance, were now screeching relentlessly, determined to make up for lost time before summer ended completely. The box in her arms remained almost motionless. She lowered her head, silently meeting the half-open gaze of the cat inside.

Beep beep. The sound of an electric scooter.

Yu Xia looked up and met Zheng Yun’s eyes.

Zheng Yun hadn’t changed, still wearing her exquisitely tailored qipao. To wear a helmet, she had removed her hairpin, her long hair pulled back behind her neck. A few stray strands slipped from beneath the helmet, swaying in the summer night breeze. Her jade bracelet swung on her arm as she extended one leg from beneath the qipao to steady the scooter, creating an odd yet harmonious scene.

The pink electric scooter was still adorned with anime character stickers, clearly Xiao Jiu’s handiwork.

“Get on,” Zheng Yun said, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “It’s better to rely on yourself than to beg others.”

Yu Xia put on the helmet Zheng Yun handed her, then climbed onto the scooter with the kitten in her arms.

Zheng Yun’s familiarity with Yuncheng extended only about a kilometer around Chuntianli. She rarely ventured farther, so with her phone navigating, she dared not drive too fast.

Fortunately, it was a weekday at 9 a.m., after the morning rush hour, so the roads were relatively empty. Zheng Yun’s somewhat rusty driving skills proved sufficient.

Even better, perhaps by divine favor, they encountered green lights all the way.

The sweltering wind whipped Yu Xia’s hair as it blew in from the front. The scooter’s bumpy ride kept her focused on the road. Glancing sideways, she caught Zheng Yun’s focused expression in the rearview mirror—her lips pressed tightly together, delicate brows furrowed in silent worry.

About fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the veterinary hospital.

Heatstroke cases were common among animals in summer, and the staff hurried about. When they saw Zheng Yun and Yu Xia enter with the cardboard box, they quickly took it for examination. The two women jogged after them to the doctor’s office, where the vet began assessing the kittens’ conditions.

By the time they reached the office, the two had only a few moments to exchange words.

“Don’t worry,” Zheng Yun reassured her. “We’re doing everything we can.”

“…Okay,” Yu Xia replied, her mind still haunted by the mother cat’s numb eyes, as if she had already accepted her fate and given up struggling.

The outcome was far from satisfactory.

The mother cat, weakened by childbirth and dehydration, showed signs of organ failure. Of the three kittens, only one survived.

The doctor sighed. “We’ll need to admit her for observation.”

Dazed, Yu Xia went to pay the bill, barely registering which card she used.

A nurse brought over a small cardboard box containing the bodies of the two kittens and asked if Yu Xia wanted to take them or have the hospital dispose of them. Without a word, Yu Xia took the box. The two kittens lay still inside, curled up with their eyes closed. They had never even opened their eyes to see the world before silently dying on a summer night.

Noticing Yu Xia’s distress, the nurse offered comfort. “It’s remarkable that any stray cats survive at all. Don’t blame yourself too much. The mother cat is a tabby, so her chances of recovery are good.”

Yu Xia murmured a quiet thank you.

Zheng Yun followed the doctor through the ward before hurrying out. The hospital air conditioning was set low, and Zheng Yun’s forehead was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, which she finally had a moment to wipe away.

She handed Yu Xia a tissue. “Xiaxia, wipe yourself down.”

Yu Xia belatedly snapped out of her daze and realized her body was sticky with a mixture of bl00d and sweat. She handed the box containing the kitten’s body to Zheng Yun and went to the bathroom to wash up, Zheng Yun following anxiously behind.

“I’m fine,” Yu Xia said, gazing at the bloodstains on her white T-shirt and sighing silently.

“You’ve already done so much,” Zheng Yun said, hugging her. “If they hadn’t met you, none of them would have survived.”

“I know, I just…” Yu Xia trailed off.

Zheng Yun understood her without needing words. She simply held Yu Xia, gently patting her back.

If I had been better prepared, if I had known more, would the outcome have been different? But life wasn’t a game with every detail planned out, even the hidden easter eggs. No one could predict what would happen in the next moment.

Zheng Yun set down the box and went to get Yu Xia a cup of water, offering quiet comfort.

After finishing her water, Yu Xia sat wearily on the bench outside the restroom, wiping the water droplets from her arm with a tissue as she silently watched the bustling corridor.

The pet hospital was crowded with owners hurrying about, cradling their pets. Some looked anxious, others prayed, a few wept, while others cooed at their furry companions.

Leaning back against the bench, Yu Xia pulled out her phone and saw a voice message pop up from a WeChat account with no profile picture.

She gestured to Zheng Yun and stood up to take the call outside.

Before answering, Yu Xia considered various reasons Ke Qian might be calling—perhaps to ask about birthday gift ideas or to request local souvenirs for Yu Nian upon returning from her trip. But she never imagined Ms. Ke Qian would demand she apologize to Yu Nian in such a stern tone.

“Because of your and your friend’s actions, Niannian has been crying all day, saying she’d rather be dead than alive…” Ke Qian’s voice still echoed in her ears.

It felt as if a million ducks were quacking wildly in Yu Xia’s ears, their discordant cries gradually converging into a piercing, high-pitched din that made her temples throb. Fighting back nausea, she retorted, “Did you tell her to message Chen Zhu?”

Ke Qian paused before replying, “No.”

“She went out of her way to harass and drive a wedge between me and my friends. If my friends cursed her out, didn’t she bring it on herself?” Yu Xia’s stomach churned violently. She felt like she might be suffering from heatstroke, or perhaps her bl00d was simply boiling with anger. She moved to the trash can, pressed her hand against her stomach, and forced herself to reply calmly, “Niannian has health issues. As her older sister, couldn’t you just cut her some slack?” Ms. Ke Qian’s upbringing prevented her from shouting, but her voice trembled with barely suppressed fury. “You were doing so well before!”

Yu Xia’s vision swam between black and white. She was certain she had heatstroke, yet she somehow managed to keep arguing with Ke Qian. She sneered, “Cut her some slack? I haven’t been?”

Ms. Ke Qian finally realized that Yu Xia hadn’t done anything wrong, but Yu Nian was still crying so hard she was gagging. Heart aching, Ke Qian patted her back and said sternly, “I saw your posts. You’re having a great time out there while Niannian is stuck at home playing. And you’re still being petty? Just apologize, or I’ll freeze your card.”

Yu Xia was about to retort that she hadn’t used the family card recently when she suddenly remembered accidentally selecting the wrong card when paying earlier. She wanted to laugh and offer to repay Ke Qian, but her vision was blurring.

On the other end of the line, Yu Nian finally vomited from crying. Ke Qian, panicked, nearly screamed, “What’s so hard about apologizing?”

Yu Xia didn’t hear the question. The last thing she heard before her eyes closed was Zheng Yun’s voice, running to catch her and calling her name with a sob in her voice.

The last trace of anger in her heart vanished.

Even if the sky were to fall, Zheng Yun would lie beside her.

When Yu Xia woke up, she was in a hospital. Zheng Yun was slumped beside her, her face etched with worry as thick as summer storm clouds, which only began to dissipate when she saw Yu Xia open her eyes.

Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu were sitting nearby, engrossed in a game of Dou Dizhu on their phones. Xiao Jiu hadn’t noticed Yu Xia waking up and, seeing Xiao Qi play the wrong card, dared not speak up, instead nudging her arm repeatedly until Zheng Yun spoke. Only then did Xiao Jiu finally explode, “Xiao Qi, your card play is atrocious!”

Xiao Qi protested innocently, “But I’m the landlord!”

Xiao Jiu was speechless.

Yu Xia stared at the ceiling, listening as Zheng Yun recounted what had happened after she fainted.

Just as Yu Xia collapsed, Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu had arrived at the pet hospital. On the way to the hospital, Zheng Yun had managed to explain a few words to them. She had hung up Yu Xia’s phone immediately, and when the caller rang back while Zheng Yun was paying the hospital bill, Xiao Jiu answered.

This time it wasn’t Ke Qian, but Yu Donghai.

Misunderstanding Yu Donghai’s intentions, Xiao Jiu assumed he had angered Yu Xia to the point of fainting. She unleashed a barrage of insults, showing no restraint. When Zheng Yun returned from paying the bill and heard Xiao Jiu’s tirade, she was torn between laughter and tears.

“Yu Xia, are you embarrassed? Ah,” Xiao Jiu said, scratching her head apologetically. “I didn’t know he was your dad. I thought he was some crazy person. He immediately accused you of faking a faint just because your sister threw up. I couldn’t hold back.”

Yu Xia rubbed her temples. Her father rarely involved himself in matters concerning her and Yu Nian, remaining mostly invisible. But whenever he did appear, he only exacerbated conflicts, acting like a real troublemaker in their family dynamics.

As the cold medicine dripped into her veins, the nausea in Yu Xia’s stomach subsided. She shook her head. “You gave him a good tongue-lashing.”

Xiao Jiu stuck out her tongue. “The way he acted like he knew everything was so disgusting. I just couldn’t help myself.”

She took the phone Zheng Yun handed her, pulled up Ke Qian’s WeChat contact, and transferred back the full amount of the cats’ medical expenses.

Despite the IV needle in her hand, she typed out several messages with such force that bl00d began to backflow into the thin IV tube. Zheng Yun frowned and pressed down on her phone to stop her.

“Is there something urgent that can’t wait?” Zheng Yun’s brow had been furrowed all evening. She pressed her pale fingers firmly against the back of Yu Xia’s hand, holding the needle in place. The sharp, stinging pain jolted Yu Xia awake.

Zheng Yun had been running around all night.

Yu Xia obediently put her phone away.

“The mother cat’s test results haven’t come back yet. The doctor says she needs to stay in the hospital for observation. The kittens are fine, just weak,” Zheng Yun explained the situation.

“We have the kittens’ box with us. When we get back, we can bury them in the flowerbed behind Chuntianli,” Xiao Jiu said, her eyes gleaming with a straight flush, but her ears perked up attentively.

Yu Xia listened quietly to Zheng Yun’s instructions.

“It’s too hot lately. Try to stay indoors as much as possible. The weather forecast says the temperature hasn’t peaked yet,” Xiao Qi sighed, reminding her.

Yu Xia hadn’t experienced heatstroke since middle school. She considered Xiao Jiu’s theory plausible—she might have actually fainted from the heat.

A long string of messages from Ms. Ke Qian popped up on her phone. Yu Xia read them without replying. Zheng Yun had told her not to move, so she remained still.

A dozen green messages popped up, and Yu Xia stared at them impassively. Ke Qian rarely spoke to her like this. Sometimes Ke Qian herself felt guilty about her favoritism and would try to compensate Yu Xia in trivial ways.

Human energy is finite. When too much is spent on one person, the other can only receive the scraps that remain.

In the past, Yu Xia had always received those scraps of kindness. Whenever Ke Qian showed her even a little attention, she would feel overwhelmed with gratitude.

But after experiencing someone who devoted all their energy to her, what she had received before no longer seemed enough.

Yu Xia watched as Ke Qian expressed concern for her health, asked about her current location and whether she was being cared for, and apologized for shouting at her earlier. She also said Yu Xia didn’t need to apologize to Yu Nian and should focus on taking care of herself first. Ke Qian then subtly inquired about who Yu Xia was with, what the meaning behind her social media posts was, and whether she had been unhappy before.

The final messages included a transfer of 5,200 yuan from Ms. Ke Qian, accompanied by a tentative question:

“Will you come home for your birthday?”

Yu Xia wanted to laugh, finding every word dripping with sarcasm. Without replying, she re-added Ms. Ke Qian to her blacklist.

Zheng Yun pressed the call button, and a nurse entered to remove the IV. Three healthy individuals and one frail one returned to Chuntianli together.

Exhausted from the night’s ordeal, Zheng Yun delegated the digging to Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu, while she and Yu Xia supervised.

Behind Chuntianli stretched a long flowerbed. Since Xiao Qi and Xiao Jiu weren’t fond of flowers, they occasionally planted scallions there.

After retrieving a shovel from the tool shed and digging a large pit, Xiao Jiu sighed as she laid the kitten down, “In your next life, don’t be a stray kitten no one wants.”

Neither Xiao Qi nor Xiao Jiu kept pets, so there was nothing to bury with the kitten. They simply filled the hole with earth.

Yu Xia glanced at Zheng Yun’s exhausted expression, like a wilted gardenia, its petals curled inward, listless.

Back in their room, Zheng Yun yawned three times in a row, utterly drained. Yu Xia, having slept through her unconsciousness, felt surprisingly refreshed.

Zheng Yun leaned heavily against Yu Xia, her voice soft and pleading, “Xiaxia, can you help me shower?”

Yu Xia stared at the needle mark on the back of her hand, wondering if it was safe to get wet.

“Forget it, my delicate Xiaxia. What if you faint again in the shower?” Zheng Yun nuzzled her neck. “Want me to wash you instead?”

Yu Xia was about to answer when Zheng Yun’s voice grew even softer, almost as if she were drifting off to sleep.

Sleeping without bathing was impractical. Even if Yu Xia didn’t mind, Zheng Yun was covered in sweat and wouldn’t be comfortable.

There was only one solution.

Yu Xia gently patted Zheng Yun awake, wrapped her arms around her waist, and unfastened the buttons of her qipao. The long dress slid down, pooling on the floor.

She carefully removed the jade bracelet and rings from Zheng Yun’s hands. As Yu Xia worked diligently, Zheng Yun sat on her lap, leaning against her shoulder with her eyes half-closed, dozing lightly.

Once everything was removed, Yu Xia half-carried Zheng Yun into the bathroom. The small inn didn’t have a bathtub, so Zheng Yun had to stand while Yu Xia washed her.

Yu Xia’s fingers traced along Zheng Yun’s shoulders and neck, gliding over the curves and contours of her body. She massaged her with focused intensity, treating Zheng Yun like just another client at a bathhouse.

Zheng Yun, who had been on the verge of sleep, was jolted awake by Yu Xia’s movements. She chuckled, both amused and exasperated. “Master Yu, what kind of work did you do before?”

“Hmm?” Master Yu was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t immediately register what Zheng Yun was saying.

“Before? Were you the top bathhouse masseuse?”

“Self-taught in serving you.”

Yu Xia bathed Zheng Yun while fully clothed, ending up soaked herself. She wrapped Zheng Yun in a towel and pushed her out the door.

Her white shirt, stained with bl00d, was ruined. She casually stripped it off and tossed it on the floor. Zheng Yun returned, eyeing her up and down with amusement. “Need any help?” she asked.

Yu Xia didn’t even look up. “Clients don’t need to help.”

By the time Yu Xia finished bathing and emerged, Zheng Yun was half-asleep. Yu Xia tiptoed into bed, and Zheng Yun immediately pressed close, wrapping her arms around her.

“Xiaxia, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Zheng Yun murmured, nuzzling into Yu Xia’s shoulder. She inhaled deeply, savoring the warm, clean scent of Yu Xia’s body, her heart slowly calming.

“I’m sorry,” Yu Xia whispered, holding her tight.

“Don’t apologize. I was just afraid…”

The quiet night amplified their desire to confess their feelings. Zheng Yun leaned close to Yu Xia’s ear and finished the sentence: “I was afraid something would happen to you, and I wouldn’t be able to reach you in time.”

As Zheng Yun drifted into a hazy sleep, Yu Xia thought:

It seems like I’m truly going to be bound to Zheng Yun for life.