After the Online Romance with the Campus Beauty Roommate Went Wrong - Chapter 20

As November drew to a close, Sang Shiyue came to visit Sang Shi’an. She initially assumed he was there to see Jian Chenyu, but it turned out he had come specifically for her.

His purpose was to address Sang Shi’an’s reluctance to have the driver pick her up every week. He planned to buy her a car he deemed suitable, sparing her the inconvenience of relying on public transport. He even offered to help her choose one that night.

“I’ve been driving since my freshman year,” Sang Shiyue said, his voice tinged with a nonchalant air, mingling with the night breeze on the balcony. “You’ve just kept putting off getting your license, making it seem like the family’s been mistreating you. If you feel bad taking the car for free, you can come help out at the company on weekends. Do you really expect me to support the whole family by myself?”

Sang Shi’an recalled her shaky Subject Two driving test, barely managing to avoid crossing the lines. Though she had obtained her driver’s license, she still lacked the confidence to drive on the road. “You could just give me the cash,” she said, feeling conflicted. “I can take taxis.”

Sang Shiyue chuckled softly, leaning casually against the railing with one leg bent. “Then let’s start with a cheaper model to practice with. You still haven’t answered my second question.”

Sang Shi’an retorted, “I haven’t graduated yet. I’m still a kid.”

“Sheng Yu has interns from your university,” Sang Shiyue countered. “Want me to give you a list?”

“Didn’t Mom say company operations have nothing to do with me? She wants me to focus on the Investment Department and Family Office after graduation,” Sang Shi’an countered, finding another excuse to slack off. “Besides, my major is in capital operations. You can call—”

“Even that’s inseparable from company operations,” Sang Shiyue interrupted. “At the very least, all operational approvals from the Investment Department require the Family Office’s consent. This rule was established by Grandpa to prevent cash flow shortages.”

Sang Shiyue gazed at Sang Shi’an’s naive face, his tone helpless. “What’s with that expression?”

Sang Shi’an paused, then forced a casual tone. “I think I should be the one entering a political marriage.”

Sang Shiyue stared at her silently for a moment before pulling out a cigarette right in front of her. The flame from the lighter flickered as he lit it and took a deep drag.

“Sang Shi’an, you were telling me at the beginning of the month that you weren’t dating anyone. Don’t tell me some guy has made you want to get married in just one month.”

“I haven’t,” Sang Shi’an retorted. “Stop treating my classmates like wolves.” No guys, but I am seducing a girl—the one you’re supposed to marry, she thought.

Thinking of her recent WeChat conversations with Jian Chenyu, she instinctively avoided his gaze.

Seeing this, Sang Shiyue became even more convinced that Sang Shi’an was dating some random, unreliable man.

He lowered his head and rubbed his temples, which were throbbing from overwork. “I have no intention of selling my sister off. Marriage alliances are none of your concern.”

“Brother, why are you being so harsh? ‘Selling’? Does that mean what happened between you and Sister Chenyu was you being sold off?” Sang Shi’an deliberately steered the conversation toward Jian Chenyu, hoping to pry into their recent interactions.

Sang Shiyue, unfazed, replied, “If you want to see it that way, fine.”

When Sang Shi’an remained silent, he added, “The pharmaceutical industry has been booming lately, and I want a piece of the pie. Coincidentally, Jian Chenyu’s family has some troublesome pests that need dealing with. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Sang Shi’an persisted, “If it’s mutually beneficial, why insist on marriage?”

“To minimize the risks of cooperation.” Noticing Sang Shi’an’s thin clothing, Sang Shiyue pinched out his cigarette and pulled her inside. “If you’re really interested in the specifics, come to the office this weekend and I’ll explain everything in detail. I’m heading back now.”

As Sang Shiyue reached for his coat, Sang Shi’an called out, “Aren’t you going to wait for Sister Chenyu? She should be back soon.”

Sang Shiyue glanced at the time on his phone. “It’s too late to call her now. Let’s do it another day.”

The door closed behind him.

Sang Shi’an replayed her brother’s last words in her mind.

His tone suggested he wasn’t opposed to the idea, a stark contrast to his usual dismissive attitude toward her other older sisters. So, are Sang Shiyue and Jian Chenyu meeting privately?

Sang Shi’an’s beautiful brows furrowed deeply, so absorbed in thought that she didn’t even notice Jian Chenyu had come out of her room.

Only when footsteps stopped in front of her did Sang Shi’an look up, startled. “When did you get back?”

“I saw you were talking to your brother and stayed in my room to give you privacy,” Jian Chenyu said, bending down to meet Sang Shi’an’s gaze. “What did you two discuss? You seem quite distracted.”

“Nothing important.”

Jian Chenyu’s decision to stay in her room might be a way of avoiding suspicion with Sang Shiyue, especially with Cat Cat around.

A good sign.

Sang Shi’an’s attitude toward Jian Chenyu softened considerably. She asked warmly, “Aren’t you tired of standing? Come sit down.”

Her emotions were written plainly on her face. Her lips, still stained with a lingering red from her makeup, made her complexion appear even more radiant. The fine glitter in her eye makeup sparkled with her smile, hinting at hidden affection.

Jian Chenyu turned away first and sat down beside Sang Shi’an, casually asking, “Have the rumors about us at school died down lately?”

It had been over half a month since she and Jian Chenyu had started seeing each other. Logically, Sang Shi’an should have been refreshing the forum daily.

But when Jian Chenyu asked, Sang Shi’an realized with embarrassment that she hadn’t checked the forum in days.

She was now completely focused on managing her Cat Cat account, leaving no time for anything else.

Sang Shi’an opened the forum and scanned through it. “The original threads have long been buried. The new ones are probably just people bored and looking for something to gossip about.”

“Really?” Jian Chenyu, ever responsible, immediately logged into the school forum to verify. Fortunately, Sang Shi’an’s assessment proved accurate.

Jian Chenyu clicked on one of the threads and scrolled through it.

Sang Shi’an suddenly remembered the fanfiction Su Ningyue had shown her earlier, which had also come from the school forum.

She felt like she was sitting on pins and needles, terrified that Jian Chenyu might stumble upon some inappropriate H-rated content.

After about half a minute, Jian Chenyu asked, “Have you ever considered clarifying our relationship directly? Like posting an announcement on the forum?”

Sang Shi’an: …

Post an announcement on the school forum?

I’d be laughed out of existence!

This was a school, after all, where everyone freely expressed themselves in good spirits. Suddenly, someone serious and earnest had arrived.

She wasn’t some old-fashioned relic from the Qing Dynasty; she had her pride.

Sang Shi’an propped her chin on one hand, tilting her head to tease Jian Chenyu, “Are you going to hire a lawyer to draft a formal statement and post it on the forum?”

Jian Chenyu replied, “That’s worth considering.”

Sang Shi’an found the idea completely inappropriate. “The people who were enjoying the drama have mostly quieted down. If you suddenly issue an announcement, it’ll just reignite the buzz. There are barely any posts left—not even one a day.”

Jian Chenyu’s brow furrowed slightly, as if even that single post was intolerable.

She directly stated the benefits of clarifying the situation: “A direct clarification would protect your reputation and wouldn’t hinder your potential love luck.”

Upon hearing the words “potential love luck,” Sang Shi’an’s mind immediately flashed to her role as Cat Cat. Without thinking, she blurted out, “Is it hindering my love luck or yours?”

Her abrupt tone immediately drew Jian Chenyu’s sharp gaze.

Realizing her overreaction, Sang Shi’an laughed awkwardly. “What love luck? If you’re talking about those guys who confessed to me, just ignore them. It’s been quite peaceful lately, without anyone harassing me.”

She waited a moment, and when Jian Chenyu remained silent, she ventured, “…Now that I’ve answered, what about you?”

Jian Chenyu immediately denied it. “None.”

Sang Shi’an eyed Jian Chenyu suspiciously. “Really? None at all?”

Not just Cat Cat, but also that “special friend” Chenyu mentioned before—don’t they count as love luck?

Jian Chenyu met her gaze directly. “What else would it be?”

“Then what about that ‘special friend’ you mentioned before?” Unable to ask about Cat Cat, Sang Shi’an decided to bring up the previous person. “Who introduces a friend as ‘special’? Doesn’t that person count as love luck?”

“You remember that so clearly?” Jian Chenyu gazed at Sang Shi’an with a half-smile, gradually closing the distance between them. “Whether others think we’re living together or dating, it won’t affect my relationship with my friend. Don’t overthink it.”

As Jian Chenyu explained, she reached out and gently ruffled Sang Shi’an’s soft, long hair.

As if touched on a sensitive spot, Sang Shi’an abruptly pulled away, rose silently, and turned to leave for her room.

But her slipper, only half-worn, slipped off her foot. As she stood, her left foot tripped over her right, sending her stumbling toward the coffee table.

The newly purchased champagne roses were in full bloom. Before Sang Shi’an could react, an unexpected force yanked her back.

The soft sofa cushioned her fall, her long hair obscuring her vision and leaving her slightly dazed. A gentle hand brushed the strands away from her face.

Only then did Sang Shi’an realize it wasn’t her hair blocking her view, but another shadow looming over her.

“Are you alright?” Jian Chenyu tilted Sang Shi’an’s head, leaning closer and closer as if checking for injuries.

Sang Shi’an flinched involuntarily.

Perhaps it was the lingering effect of their previous video calls, but this proximity immediately reminded her of Jian Chenyu’s domineering and dangerous tone when speaking to Cat Cat. Her body instinctively recoiled, wanting to escape.

Jian Chenyu noticed her flinch.

Jian Chenyu’s gaze shifted from the back of Sang Shi’an’s head, moving downward with a hint of surprise.

She had only meant to check for injuries, but those beautiful eyes looked as if they had been violated. Her long lashes trembled incessantly, and a faint blush spread across her porcelain-white skin.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Did you hit somewhere that hurts?” Jian Chenyu’s tone was calm yet filled with obvious concern, a stark contrast to her demeanor during their video calls.

Sang Shi’an stammered, pushing Jian Chenyu away. “I-I…”

Following Sang Shi’an’s gaze downward, Jian Chenyu noticed her single layer of clothing had ridden up, revealing a strip of snow-white skin at her waist.

“Did you hurt your waist?”

Jian Chenyu’s hand slid to Sang Shi’an’s lower back, pressing gently on several vulnerable spots. “Does it hurt here?”

“N-no, it doesn’t hurt,” Sang Shi’an mumbled, her ears flushing crimson. “Let go of me. Let me get up.”

“What’s the point of hiding? When you were little and pulled a muscle, you used to cling to me. You’d cry your eyes out even without a bruise.” Jian Chenyu’s voice held a hint of amusement as she rose to her feet, thoughtfully adjusting Sang Shi’an’s clothing.

“Get up and walk around. We need to check if your ankle is injured.”

Sang Shi’an’s mind was still filled with the Jian Chenyu she knew from WeChat. Seeing Jian Chenyu behave so politely in person left her momentarily disoriented, staring blankly.

It wasn’t until Jian Chenyu moved closer again that Sang Shi’an seemed to snap out of her daze and stood up.

“Um…” Sang Shi’an pointed behind Jian Chenyu’s head, trying to divert her attention. “Your hair’s a bit messy.”

Jian Chenyu glanced at the TV screen, removed her hair clip, gathered the loose strands in her hand, and neatly re-bunned her hair before turning back to Sang Shi’an. “Any sprains?”

Sang Shi’an shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Just as she finished speaking, she let out a soft gasp.

Noticing this, Jian Chenyu immediately bent down to press gently. “Where does it hurt?”

Sang Shi’an retreated several steps. “No, no, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

The injury from the leg straps securing her cosplay costume hadn’t fully healed. It usually didn’t bother her, but she had walked with exaggerated strides earlier to test for sprains, causing the straps to chafe against the wound.

Jian Chenyu’s gaze lingered on Sang Shi’an’s ankle. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Sang Shi’an declared firmly, “Absolutely fine! I could run eight hundred meters right now!”

Jian Chenyu didn’t press further.

As she turned away, Sang Shi’an seemed to sense a lingering gaze on her thigh.

She turned her head, only to find Jian Chenyu engrossed in her phone.

I must be imagining things, she thought.

“I’m going back to my room now,” she said.

The next day, Sang Shi’an seemed distracted after class.

Su Ningyue was used to her friend’s absent-mindedness after lectures, especially amidst the bustling crowds. Sang Shi’an didn’t bring up anything, so Su Ningyue kept quiet as well.

Unexpectedly, during lunch, Sang Shi’an suggested they go to the grilled fish stall near the east gate, pulling Su Ningyue along. Their dormitory was closer to the west gate, and Xu Taotao and Jiang Xinqi had a meeting with their advisor, so they couldn’t join them.

After ordering and settling down, Sang Shi’an nudged Su Ningyue and whispered, “Have you been checking the school forum lately?”

As a prolific fanfic writer who updated weekly, Su Ningyue replied calmly, “Why? Is something wrong?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Sang Shi’an glanced around to make sure no one was listening before confiding, “Last night, Jian Chenyu suddenly asked about the forum. She wanted to post a clarification notice, but I thought that would be too formalistic, like using her authority to pressure people, so I refused.”

“But Jian Chenyu seems really eager to distance herself from me. Do you think it’s because of my secret WeChat account?”

Su Ningyue listened patiently before asking, “Isn’t that a good thing? Senior Jian cares about the school’s reputation, which means she doesn’t want your anonymous account to cause misunderstandings. She’s starting to take the bait. Slowly but surely, you’ll achieve your goal.”

Sang Shi’an clearly didn’t see it that way. “But I’ve known Jian Chenyu for years! How could she so easily distance herself from me at school just because of some random stranger?”

Su Ningyue gave her a complex look that lingered for a couple of seconds.

Sang Shi’an poked her. “Say something!”

What should I say? Su Ningyue thought. Should I tell you this behavior is called jealousy? Or that you’re jealous of yourself?

Of course, she couldn’t say that. If she did, Sang Shi’an might kill her.

Su Ningyue could only play along. “You’re right, Senior Jian is being a bit unreasonable. How can she act like those love-struck fools who abandon their sisters the moment they get a boyfriend?”

After saying this, she cautiously glanced at Sang Shi’an to make sure she didn’t object to being called “sister” before continuing, “But this is also a good sign. Remember what I told you at the beginning? People like Senior Jian, who seem so aloof and detached, burn like an old house on fire when they fall in love. They’ll abandon all sense of reason and loyalty. When you finally drop the evidence on your parents’ doorstep, she might even convince herself she’s fighting the world for love.”

Su Ningyue had a perfect grasp of Sang Shi’an’s thoughts. The moment she spoke, the frown on Sang Shi’an’s brow relaxed, and she nodded repeatedly. “You’re right. This is definitely a good omen.”

The owner brought over the freshly grilled fish. Su Ningyue picked the fattest piece and placed it on Sang Shi’an’s plate, determined to keep her from overthinking. “Exactly! Since Senior Jian is already smitten, you shouldn’t act so aloof at school. You and Senior Jian are just friends. The more you distance yourself, the more those gossips on the school forum will stir up trouble. How many times have I warned you? You never learn.”

“And…” Su Ningyue delivered her trump card with deliberate casualness, “you wouldn’t want Senior Jian to look down on you, would you?”

Sang Shi’an had just picked up her chopsticks but slammed them back down. “You’re right. I can’t let Jian Chenyu think less of me.”

“That’s the spirit! When you expose Jian Chenyu’s boyfriend, the closer she is to you now, the more devastating her downfall will be when she’s exposed for cheating. Next semester, the School Belle title will be yours again!”

Sang Shi’an’s heart fluttered uncontrollably, but she forced down the upward twitch of her lips. “I’m not that vain…” Click.

Having reassured Sang Shi’an, Su Ningyue savored her lunch. She no longer worried that Sang Shi’an would actually ruin Jian Chenyu’s reputation.

After all, given the current trajectory, if Jian Chenyu were ever slandered, Sang Shi’an might be even more anxious than Jian Chenyu herself.

Over the next two days, Sang Shi’an followed Su Ningyue’s strategic advice, sending Jian Chenyu daily “good morning” messages through her Cat Cat account.

She planned to keep Jian Chenyu on tenterhooks for a few days, using the excuse of needing to study for midterm exams to stay up late reviewing.

At school, Sang Shi’an began actively inviting Jian Chenyu to eat alone with her, even thoughtfully getting Jian Chenyu’s meals. Su Ningyue, watching from afar, secretly gave her a thumbs-up.

After spending two days together, Sang Shi’an realized that knowing Jian Chenyu had Cat Cat in her heart made befriending her much easier. They even started strolling around campus after meals.

As they crossed the sports field, a soccer ball rolled toward them from a distance. Jian Chenyu pulled Sang Shi’an aside, and when she released her, Sang Shi’an mentioned, “Your brother called me today.”

Sang Shi’an’s steps faltered slightly. “He wants to ask you out?”

“No, it’s about you,” Jian Chenyu said. “He mentioned you didn’t want to learn to drive from a stranger and that it’s been a while since you’ve been behind the wheel. He asked if I could help you practice when I have time.”

Sang Shi’an had gotten her driver’s license during the summer after high school graduation. She had rushed through the lessons, barely passing the exam by avoiding the lines. Now, if she were given a car, she doubted she could even keep it centered on the road, let alone park it.

“You’re so busy these days. When would you even have time to help me practice?”

At least two days a week, Jian Chenyu returned home very late. Sang Shi’an hadn’t known this until recently, when she casually asked and learned that Jian Chenyu had been spending long hours in the lab.

“It’s not every day,” Jian Chenyu explained. “I can still find time to help you practice. Your brother seems determined for you to learn this skill. You can choose whether you want me to help you practice or if you’d prefer a professional instructor.”

Sang Shi’an shuddered at the painful memory of her strict driving instructor, who had alternated between scolding her in standard Mandarin and a dialect she couldn’t understand.

Sang Shiyue had secretly slipped the driving instructor a generous red envelope, hoping he would take extra care of his sister. His intention was for the instructor to be patient, but the instructor misinterpreted it as a request to rush her through the exam.

After all, most teachers assume parents prioritize their children’s academic achievements.

As a result, the instructor spent every day glaring at her from the passenger seat, making her life miserable.

Sang Shi’an remained silent for nearly half a minute before finally making her decision. “Just so you know, I wasn’t very good at driving when I learned. You might get so frustrated you’ll want to kill me.”

Jian Chenyu stopped and turned to look at her. “Are you really that bad?”

Sang Shi’an was taken aback by her unconventional response. “Aren’t you supposed to say, ‘It’s okay, you’re just rusty. You’re so smart, you’ll pick it up in no time’?”

Jian Chenyu studied her thoughtfully, then let out a long, drawn-out “Oh.” “That remains to be seen.”

Sang Shi’an, already lacking confidence, didn’t dare argue. “Why are you being like this?”

Jian Chenyu’s smile deepened, a spark of light blooming in her pale eyes. “Just teasing you.”

And with that, the matter was settled.

“When do we start?” Jian Chenyu seemed eager to teach her. “You don’t have classes this afternoon, right? Let’s head back now.”

Sang Shi’an: …

Isn’t this a bit too hasty?

And—”My brother hasn’t sent over the practice car yet.”

“No need for that. You like my car, right? Just use that to practice. Later, have your brother buy you the same brand—it’ll feel familiar to drive.”

Sang Shi’an did genuinely like the car, but she still hesitated. “Who uses a multi-million-dollar car to practice driving?”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to pay for any damage. I’ll just ask your brother for the money later. Deal?” Jian Chenyu placed her hand on Sang Shi’an’s shoulder and gave her a gentle push. “Let’s go.”

After walking a short distance, Sang Shi’an couldn’t help but ask, “Are you and my brother really close now?”

One’s asking the other to teach her how to drive, and the other’s asking for reimbursement. Aren’t they being a bit too familiar?

Jian Chenyu leaned in and pulled out the seatbelt. “We’ve always been on decent terms.”

Sang Shi’an: “What kind of ‘decent terms’?”

Jian Chenyu: “More polite than I am with you.”

Sang Shi’an grew even more frustrated. She even pulled out her phone to search whether “polite relationship” meant “good relationship” or “bad relationship.”

The online answers were all over the place, with both interpretations seeming plausible. Confused, Sang Shi’an gave up trying to figure it out.

After they retrieved the car, Jian Chenyu parked it on a relatively quiet stretch of road and activated the hazard lights. “Let’s drive along this road first to get a feel for it,” she said.

“Can you handle the sunlight?” Jian Chenyu asked, pulling a pair of sunglasses from the glove compartment. The sunglasses still had the tag on them—brand new.

It was already November, and the sun wasn’t particularly strong. Sang Shi’an, never one for fussing, replied, “No need. I’ll drive as is.”

To help Sang Shi’an recall the basics of driving, Jian Chenyu patiently explained everything, starting with the accelerator, brakes, gear shift buttons, turn signals, and so on.

Sang Shi’an listened intently, her gaze following Jian Chenyu’s hand gestures as she mentally memorized each detail.

“You take the driver’s seat,” Jian Chenyu said, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the car door.

Sang Shi’an froze, stiffly sliding into the driver’s seat. She mechanically fastened her seatbelt, her hands gripping and releasing the steering wheel nervously.

Jian Chenyu, who was selecting soothing music, glanced over and chuckled softly at Sang Shi’an’s frozen posture. “Do you think hugging the steering wheel will make the car move?”

Sang Shi’an’s hands froze. Her cheeks flushed under the sunlight as she retorted defensively, “I’m just familiarizing myself with the car. Don’t distract me.”

Jian Chenyu responded with a meaningful, “Oh.”

Sang Shi’an couldn’t keep up the act any longer. Finally, she began to mimic Jian Chenyu’s earlier instructions, pressing the brake and shifting gears.

As she slowly released the brake, the car, its hazard lights flashing, began to move.

But for some reason, the car that had handled so smoothly under Jian Chenyu’s control now started drifting off course in Sang Shi’an’s hands.

The national highway wasn’t perfectly straight, requiring Sang Shi’an to actively steer. Her panic grew noticeably when cars behind her honked as they overtook her.

She could only accelerate, keeping the car from veering completely off the road but still weaving erratically within her lane.

After driving like this for about ten minutes, Sang Shi’an’s hair seemed to wilt.

She pulled over and glanced at Jian Chenyu, a hint of barely perceptible grievance in her voice. “This car won’t steer straight.”

Jian Chenyu’s heart fluttered slightly at her pitiful gaze. She gently reassured her, “The speed limit here is 50 mph. Don’t worry about the honking. You weren’t crossing the lane lines earlier, so don’t stress too much. If you really start to drift, I’ll help you correct the steering.”

“Come on, let’s try again.”

With that, she guided Sang Shi’an through the braking and shifting process once more.

After three hours of driving, nearly emptying half a tank of gas, Sang Shi’an finally began to regain some of the familiar feeling from her driving lessons. Yet her palms remained sweaty with nervous tension.

“There’s a gas station about a kilometer ahead. Drive there and fill up,” Jian Chenyu said, having found the location on the navigation system. To avoid undermining Sang Shi’an’s confidence, which had been slowly building despite her cautious, speed-limit-abiding driving, she added, “You’re actually doing pretty well. Just keep practicing.”

Sang Shi’an’s face lit up with surprise. “Are you serious?”

Jian Chenyu raised an eyebrow. “Or should I ask your brother to find a driving instructor to give you a proper evaluation?”

Sang Shi’an immediately shook her head.

She cautiously increased her speed and began driving toward the gas station.

The gas station was crowded with cars, making the gaps between vehicles narrow as they pulled in. Sang Shi’an got out of the car, and Jian Chenyu took over the driving.

They stopped for dinner in a suburban area, and by the time they returned, it was nearly eight o’clock.

Jian Chenyu had planned to end the day’s practice there, but when they parked, Sang Shi’an still seemed eager to continue. “Remember how to park?” she asked.

Driving on the road was manageable, but Sang Shi’an dreaded practicing parking, fearing she’d scratch the car. “That’s too hard,” she protested. “Let’s try another day.”

“It’s not hard at all,” Jian Chenyu said, sliding back into the driver’s seat. In front of Sang Shi’an, she effortlessly parked the car again in under half a minute.

The demonstration gave Sang Shi’an the illusion that parking was indeed remarkably easy.

Full of newfound confidence, she started the car, nearly scraping the paint off the adjacent vehicle.

Fortunately, Jian Chenyu’s timely shout to hit the brakes prevented a collision.

“I’ll watch from outside,” Jian Chenyu said, parking the car back in its original spot and standing a short distance away.

Sang Shi’an bit her lip and tried again.

Driving straight into the parking space was much easier than reversing. The entire maneuver was an L-shaped turn, but the narrow passage made it particularly challenging.

Sang Shi’an carefully adjusted the steering wheel, repeatedly restarting the attempt.

When learning something new, she shed her usual pampered demeanor. Once she set her mind to it, she wouldn’t stop until she mastered it.

Jian Chenyu patiently guided her through each attempt. After more than a dozen tries, as Sang Shi’an turned the wheel to straighten the car after the L-shaped turn, she braced herself for another restart. To her surprise, she realized the car was already perfectly aligned.

She slowly crept forward two meters and found herself parked perfectly within the lines.

Sang Shi’an shifted into park, leaned out the window to check the tire positions, and exclaimed in disbelief, “Did I actually park it right?”

A smile spread across Jian Chenyu’s face as she confirmed, “Yes, you parked it perfectly.”

Overjoyed, Sang Shi’an unbuckled her seatbelt, hopped out of the car, and circled the parking space, making sure she hadn’t crossed any lines. Once she was certain, she threw herself at Jian Chenyu, exclaiming, “Jian Chenyu, I really parked it right!”

It was just like when she was a child, rushing home to announce her first-place exam results.

Caught off guard, Jian Chenyu was enveloped in Sang Shi’an’s embrace.

The warmth of her body pressed against her, carrying the faint scent of the car’s incense. Jian Chenyu’s heart pounded as she slowly stroked Sang Shi’an’s back. “…Mm.”