After the Online Romance with the Campus Beauty Roommate Went Wrong - Chapter 11

A tempest raged in Sang Shi’an’s mind.

For a fleeting moment, she almost doubted her ability to read Chinese characters.

Fortunately, Jian Chenyu’s earlier remark about “special preferences” during the school year had given her some psychological preparation. But the most crucial detail was this:

Jian Chenyu had been searching for same-s3x content.

Not heterosexual AV.

But lesbian yuri films.

This revelation brought to mind their shared Japanese meal when Jian Chenyu had stumbled upon Jiang Xinqi kissing her girlfriend.

Those pale, glass-like eyes had merely glanced over the scene, betraying not the slightest ripple of emotion.

At the time, Sang Shi’an had been too stunned by her friend’s sudden coming out to notice how remarkably calm Jian Chenyu remained—so calm, in fact, that she seemed completely unfazed by witnessing Jiang Xinqi kissing her partner.

Numbly, Sang Shi’an thought, No wonder Jian Chenyu remained indifferent to the forum posts spreading rumors about their lesbian relationship. No wonder she had stopped me that day to ask, ‘Who said I’m homophobic?’

Would a heterosexual person search for yuri films?

Even if it were mere curiosity, would they amass such a screenful of search history?

The only explanation was that Jian Chenyu enjoyed watching this kind of content, or, to put it more accurately, Jian Chenyu’s sexual orientation was—women.

Sang Shi’an shivered.

I’m done for.

She had previously known Jian Chenyu had some unusual interests, but she had always assumed they were directed toward men.

Now that she knew Jian Chenyu’s sexual orientation, Sang Shi’an finally realized: So, Jian Chenyu’s “special interests” involve women?

I’ve been living under the same roof as such a dangerous person for over two months?

How has Jian Chenyu not done anything to me? In the dead of night, with the doors and windows locked, and me being so attractive… No, no, that’s not the point. The real problem is that I’ve finally managed to mend my relationship with Jian Chenyu. If I distance myself again, wouldn’t it seem too deliberate?

Sang Shi’an was panicking.

With trembling hands, she clicked on the most recent search history entry.

The page loaded, revealing a screen full of blush-inducing websites. The computer was using a VPN to bypass the firewall, and the sites clamored for attention.

Sang Shi’an’s body stiffened. She bit her lip hard, a wave of shame flushing from the nape of her neck to the tips of her ears.

She hadn’t wronged Jian Chenyu. These search records were indeed Jian Chenyu’s own searches, the content she had wanted to see.

The touchpad was too sensitive. The cursor accidentally clicked on a video, and suddenly, gasping breaths and the sounds of wet, entangled bodies filled the room.

She frantically tried to close the webpage, but just then—

Click—

The door swung open, revealing long hair blown in by the wind, followed by a perfectly tailored trench coat.

As Jian Chenyu stepped inside, she removed her coat, her white sleeves clinging tightly to her arms. Her silk white shirt was tucked into her skirt, radiating an air of restrained elegance. Her black tie was half-undone when she heard Sang Shi’an abruptly push herself up from the desk.

Jian Chenyu tilted her head, suddenly calling out, “Sang Shi’an?”

“Ah?” Sang Shi’an had hastily closed all the webpages as she stood up. The glimpse she’d caught of Jian Chenyu’s private information had already startled her enough, let alone now being caught red-handed by Jian Chenyu herself. Every hair on Sang Shi’an’s body stood on end.

Jian Chenyu set down her coat and walked to the study entrance. Her brow furrowed slightly as she noticed the tissue box knocked askew and the other items scattered around the computer.

“Why are you always so clumsy?” Jian Chenyu habitually began tidying the desk.

Sang Shi’an didn’t stop her. Her eyes darted between Jian Chenyu’s approaching hand and the computer screen, desperately trying to confirm that all the webpages had been properly closed.

Her unusual behavior immediately caught Jian Chenyu’s attention.

“Is there something wrong with the computer?”

Sang Shi’an’s hand trembled.

In a panic, Jian Chenyu moved behind her, placing one hand on the touchpad from the right. Her warm breath, carrying Jian Chenyu’s unique scent—a cool, ethereal fragrance of damp wood—enveloped Sang Shi’an.

Sang Shi’an’s gaze froze, catching a glimpse of the sleeve cuff still tightly fastened around Jian Chenyu’s arm.

Their heights were similar. Perhaps sensing Sang Shi’an’s discomfort standing, Jian Chenyu pressed her other hand on Sang Shi’an’s shoulder, gently urging her to sit down.

Caught off guard, Sang Shi’an instinctively looked up, her eyes meeting Jian Chenyu’s.

Jian Chenyu’s clear, cool voice reached her ears, sending a tingle through her earlobes. “Has it already rebooted?”

Sang Shi’an was too nervous to speak. The hand pressing down on her left shoulder felt stiff and unyielding. She parted her lips, managing a strained, “Mhm.”

The hand released her shoulder, then moved to her forehead, the palm sweeping across her brow with a faint, ticklish sensation. “Why is your face so red? Did you sneak a drink again?”

“…No.”

The hand slowly withdrew from her forehead, then dropped to cup her chin, gently tilting her deliberately lowered head upward.

Bathed in the dazzling glow of the crystal chandelier, Sang Shi’an met Jian Chenyu’s pale, unwavering gaze.

For a moment, Sang Shi’an’s breath caught in her throat.

Had Jian Chenyu… seen through her?

“Pupils look normal. Are you sure you’re not feeling unwell?”

Her heart pounded wildly. Jian Chenyu’s crisp white shirt seemed to fade away, replaced by the video she had seen on her computer.

Sang Shi’an swallowed unconsciously, the slight movement causing her jaw to brush against Jian Chenyu’s cool, smooth fingertip.

She forced her voice to remain steady. “…I’m fine.”

“Maybe it’s too stuffy in here,” Jian Chenyu said, a hint of amusement in her softened tone.

She turned to open the window a crack.

Cool air rushed in, calming Sang Shi’an’s frayed nerves. The lingering sensation of Jian Chenyu’s touch remained on her jaw. She stood up. “I’m going out.”

Afraid her evasiveness would be too obvious, she offered a rare explanation. “I’m meeting a friend to buy a computer.”

“I just got back from the office. If you’d mentioned it earlier, I could have picked one up for you on the way.”

This reminded Sang Shi’an of the day she had shattered her phone screen. Jian Chenyu had paid for her new phone. She lowered her head and transferred the money to Jian Chenyu. “For the phone. Thank you.”

Jian Chenyu acknowledged her with a hum, but as Sang Shi’an hurried to leave, she called out again, “Did you save any of the files you were working on?”

“Ah, I haven’t finished revising my thesis yet, so no need to save,” Sang Shi’an replied. Realizing this might sound like she’d been neglecting her work for too long, she quickly added, “The computer crashed as soon as I turned it on. I’ve been struggling with it for ages.”

This meant she hadn’t touched anything she shouldn’t have, nor seen anything she wasn’t supposed to.

A faint, almost imperceptible sound of amusement came from behind her. Sang Shi’an didn’t bother to confirm it, quickly changed her shoes, and hurried out the door.

In the elevator, she leaned against the wall, letting her mind go blank and exhaling deeply.

What on earth is going on?

As night fell and the temperature dropped, Sang Shi’an wandered aimlessly through the streets with her new laptop after buying it. She was approached by someone asking for her WeChat, and to her dismay, it was a girl.

Startled like a frightened bird, Sang Shi’an quickly apologized and hurried away.

How had she never noticed so many lesbians around her before?

Jiang Xinqi had been “bent,” Jian Chenyu might have always liked girls, and then there was Su Ningyue, whom she’d once glimpsed but couldn’t clearly identify the other person…

Aaaaaahhhhh!

She stopped, pulled out her phone, and scrolled through her chat list. From top to bottom, she couldn’t find a single person she felt comfortable confiding in about this.

Finally, after two hours of braving the cold wind, she reluctantly drifted back to Left Bank Community.

That night was filled with nightmares.

The next morning, Sang Shi’an, sporting dark circles under her eyes, strode to the entrance before Jian Chenyu could emerge from the bathroom.

As she closed the door, she thought she heard Jian Chenyu call her name.

Whatever. I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear it.

The first major class of the morning was Economic Law.

The second was Tax Law.

The professor seemed to be in a foul mood, droning through the textbook in a monotonous, utterly unengaging manner.

Sang Shi’an, feeling drained and listless, could only watch the professor’s mouth open and close. By the time she snapped back to attention, her notebook was already covered with several crookedly scrawled “Jian Chenyu”s.

Sang Shi’an: ……

She flipped the page with exaggerated haste, the abrupt movement drawing curious glances from those around her.

Su Ningyue’s drowsiness vanished instantly. “What was that racket?”

“I… uh…”

Before Sang Shi’an could speak, the professor’s gaze swept across the room. “Fifth row, the girl in the blue jacket, answer my question. What is Company A’s output tax amount in this problem?”

A wave of suppressed laughter rippled through the room.

Sang Shi’an stood up, her eyes glazing over as she scanned the problem’s ten-plus lines of business operations.

“The sales revenue is the difference between the purchase and sale prices at the end of 2021, minus the bond losses. With a tax rate of 6%, the output tax amount should be…”

Jiang Xinqi scribbled large numbers on her paper. Sang Shi’an shot her a grateful glance and announced the answer: “One hundred twenty-eight thousand three, option C.”

“Hmm, sit down,” the professor said, moving on to the second problem.

As the bell rang signaling the end of class, Su Ningyue packed up her things while teasing Sang Shi’an. “What’s with you? You manage to cause such a commotion even when you’re just dozing off? Were you out stealing chickens last night?”

Sang Shi’an’s eyes flickered involuntarily.

She had been out stealing chickens—metaphorically speaking.

After returning home, she discovered that Jian Chenyu hadn’t taken her laptop to her room. So she quietly opened the browser again and photographed the entire search history.

She then encrypted the images with a single tap in her photo album.

But she couldn’t tell Su Ningyue and the others about this.

Forced to admit she’d been “dozing off,” Sang Shi’an retorted with mock annoyance, “You were sleeping too! Let’s not throw stones in glass houses!”

Su Ningyue smiled and gently peeled away her paw, suggesting, “It’s almost lunchtime. Why don’t you ask Senior Jian to grab a meal with you?”