After the Online Romance with the Campus Beauty Roommate Went Wrong - Chapter 21

After hugging Jian Chenyu, Sang Shi’an quickly stepped back, then happily circled the parking space before belatedly realizing what she had just done.

She cautiously glanced at Jian Chenyu, who was getting into the car to retrieve the keys, and quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Right, a hug isn’t such a big deal after all. Jian Chenyu’s attention is completely focused on Cat Cat now. She’s not going to eat me, is she?

That night, Sang Shi’an changed into a new cosplay outfit, determined to continue capturing Jian Chenyu’s attention. The costume was adorned with numerous black feather patches, and a pair of large wings extended from her back. The stark contrast between the all-black ensemble and her pale skin was striking.

Sang Shi’an particularly liked this outfit because the shirt clips securing the hem were made of soft velvet, unlike the previous set, which had decorative jeweled chains.

She turned slightly, revealing a sliver of her slender waist, its skin so pale it seemed to glow. The taut skin trembled slightly, as if it might snap with the slightest pressure.

As she turned, the succubus’s signature tail emerged alongside her wings. The flash captured the moment, leaving a stunning photo on her phone screen.

Sang Shi’an switched to her WeChat Moments. Her friend list contained only one contact: Jian Chenyu. She didn’t even need to adjust the visibility settings. My newly grown tail is so hot and painful! Someone save me!

She attached the photo she had just taken. A few crimson tufts of fur peeked out from the base of her tail, glowing like heated embers—a pitiful and helpless sight that sparked the imagination.

After posting, Sang Shi’an changed out of her clothes, hung them back in the closet, and went to the main bathroom in the living room to shower.

While drying her hair, she glanced at WeChat and noticed that Jian Chenyu had liked her Moment twenty minutes earlier and commented: New outfit?

If she’s really curious, she should message me directly.

Sang Shi’an had recently confirmed that Jian Chenyu wouldn’t delete her Cat Cat account, since Jian Chenyu hadn’t even replied to her posts on her main account.

So, she decided to play hard to get. She was determined to break Jian Chenyu’s habit of never initiating conversations.

Sang Shi’an flipped her phone face down and switched back to her main account to text Sang Shiyue: Sister Chenyu is willing to teach me how to drive. You don’t need to find someone else to come over.

Five minutes later, Sang Shiyue replied: Okay. Mom’s coming back next week and said she’s bringing lots of gifts for you and Jian Chenyu. Remember to come home and get them.

Sang Shi’an happily sent a spinning emoji: Got it!

Over the next few days, Jian Chenyu didn’t go to the lab at night. Apparently, Jian Zhiyan had taken several doctoral students to a conference in another province, so Jian Chenyu shifted her experiment time to the daytime.

After five days, Sang Shi’an finally mastered another skill: reverse parking. And not with the help of the 360-degree panoramic view, but by relying solely on the rearview mirrors.

During dinner, Su Ningyue sent a link.

Quick, check out this post! Senior Jian was spotted hanging out with someone, and the poster seems to be jealous and is accusing her of being someone’s mistress. But when I saw the car, isn’t that the same one she drove us home in last time?

Sang Shi’an clicked on the link and, sure enough, it was the car she usually practiced driving in. By the end of the weekend, even the academic elites who usually only focused on research had heard about the rumors.

The photos were taken at night, showing Jian Chenyu outside the car, in the passenger seat, and even leaning over to hug the driver.

Sang Shi’an thought back to that night. Jian Chenyu had helped her park the car, and after switching seats, she’d forgotten to buckle her seatbelt. Jian Chenyu had reached over to help her.

In the photos, it really did look like a college girl willingly debasing herself, trying to please a wealthy benefactor in the car.

Sang Shi’an quickly shook her head, trying to shake off the thought.

Jian Chenyu happened to look over and noticed Sang Shi’an’s expression shifting rapidly mid-meal. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

Sang Shi’an lifted her head, her gaze complicated. After a moment’s hesitation, she handed him her phone. “Just… you were secretly photographed.”

Sang Shi’an glanced at the photos. She was already used to such incidents.

Back in her freshman year, she’d been the target of similar malicious rumors. Perhaps some girls disliked her, but most of the perpetrators were obsessive men who couldn’t accept rejection.

Still, when this happened to Jian Chenyu, Sang Shi’an couldn’t help but add, “It’s all baseless nonsense. Just ignore them like they’re barking dogs.”

“Mm,” Jian Chenyu said, quickly scrolling through the photos. “The angles are actually pretty good.”

Sang Shi’an swallowed the words of comfort she was about to offer. “What did you say?”

Jian Chenyu smiled. “It’s good they didn’t show your face.”

“What do you mean it’s good they didn’t show my face? Am I that embarrassing?” Sang Shi’an protested. “If they’d included me, they wouldn’t have said such nasty things. What kind of reaction is that?”

Jian Chenyu picked up a piece of food with her chopsticks and placed it on Sang Shi’an’s plate, saying casually, “As long as it doesn’t affect you, it’s fine. I don’t have many close friends at school, so this kind of thing won’t bother me.”

That was true.

Graduate students tended to be more independent than undergraduates, especially Jian Chenyu. When she wasn’t in class, she was either in the Department of Chemistry’s lab or managing her family’s company. Her time was precious, and she wouldn’t have bothered with those childish forum posts if not for Sang Shi’an.

As she’d mentioned a few days ago, Jian Chenyu might have preferred resolving the issue directly through lawyers.

Sang Shi’an understood the logic, but as a sophomore who had only been out of high school for a year, she still felt that many school matters didn’t require adult solutions.

Noticing Sang Shi’an’s distracted demeanor, Jian Chenyu set down her chopsticks and chuckled softly, “An’an, this kind of thing really doesn’t bother me.”

Sang Shi’an snapped out of her thoughts and pushed all the food Jian Chenyu had placed on her plate to the side. “If you don’t care, why should I? Besides, I have my own chopsticks. I can get my own food.”

She unlocked her phone and started chatting with Su Ningyue about other things.

Su Ningyue told her that Jiang Xinqi and her girlfriend had been arguing lately. One insisted she genuinely didn’t like men anymore, while the other kept bringing up past issues.

At first, they could dismiss it as teasing, but as the jabs became more frequent, the young couple inevitably clashed.

Dating is such a hassle, Sang Shi’an sighed inwardly.

She ate while scrolling through her phone, not even noticing when Jian Chenyu left.

It wasn’t until a strange man sat down beside her—looking to be in his thirties or older, with slicked-back hair and a black suit—that she looked up.

Her first thought was that he was trying to sell her insurance.

After hearing him speak a few sentences, Sang Shi’an realized this man was preying on naive young women around the university campus.

It seemed the rumors circulating on the school forum about wealthy men targeting female students weren’t baseless after all. Some people in society were genuinely targeting university towns.

Jian Chenyu’s bag was still there, indicating she would return. Sang Shi’an decided to pass the time by listening to the man talk. He complimented her beauty while subtly flaunting his wealth, his approach polished and practiced—clearly not his first time.

Sang Shi’an scrutinized the man’s face, finding not a trace of embarrassment. Shameless, she cursed inwardly.

Then a hand pressed down on her shoulder. “Finished eating?”

The man’s attention shifted to Jian Chenyu, whom he initially dismissed as an unwelcome interruption. But his eyes lit up as he took in her features. “And this is…?”

“She’s my older sister.”

“She has a boyfriend.”

The two spoke in unison.

Sang Shi’an froze, utterly stunned.

Only after the man stormed off, cursing under his breath, did she glare at Jian Chenyu, her face flushed crimson. “What nonsense were you spouting?”

“He was trying to pick up a college girl. This was the quickest way to get rid of him,” Jian Chenyu said calmly, picking up her bag. “Shall we go?”

Sang Shi’an hesitated, then finally managed, “Yeah, let’s go.”

As they strolled along the road after leaving the hotel, Jian Chenyu remarked, “It’s no wonder he was so persistent earlier. You kept staring at him, so naturally he’d think you were interested.”

“I just wanted to see if he’d blush when he said he wanted to ‘take care of me’,” Sang Shi’an replied. “But there wasn’t even a hint of embarrassment.”

Jian Chenyu glanced at her sideways but said nothing more.

Halfway down the road, a voice called out from the sidewalk: “Senior Jian!”

“Senior Jian, it really is you!”

A young woman they didn’t recognize approached. Jian Chenyu murmured, “She’s one of my aunt’s graduate students.”

Sang Shi’an had grown accustomed to people in the Department of Chemistry, even those older than Jian Chenyu, calling her “Senior Jian.” She greeted the girl with a polite “Hello, Senior Sister.” The girl smiled warmly and pulled a capybara-shaped lollipop from her shopping bag. “I bought this because it looked cute. Junior Sister, want to try it?”

Sang Shi’an accepted the lollipop with a smile. The girl then turned to Jian Chenyu. “Senior Sister, I saw photos of you on the school forum, dating someone. Is he from our university?”

The girl clearly didn’t share the malicious intent of the forum poster; she simply assumed Jian Chenyu had found a boyfriend. Knowing Jian Chenyu’s relationship with Jian Zhiyan, she also doubted that Jian Chenyu would ever worry about money.

“We’re not dating,” Jian Chenyu said, noticing Sang Shi’an struggling to untie the metal strip securing her lollipop. She took the candy and peeled it open for her. “We just went out together.”

The girl’s face lit up. “That photo of you two hugging in the car was so intimate! Everyone thought it was real. And the other person was actually a junior sister?”

Sang Shi’an, lollipop in her mouth, mumbled, “Senior Sister, please don’t bring it up. I have some dignity.”

The girl’s smile widened. “You’re good friends, right? Shouldn’t you help Senior Jian clear up the misunderstanding?”

Sang Shi’an, pleased to be considered a ‘good friend’ rather than a romantic partner, replied, “I’ll think about it.”

Truthfully, she didn’t want to help. It felt too embarrassing.

Her youthful, pretty face had been slandered on the school forum, with people claiming she was some middle-aged uncle. Now she was supposed to come forward and admit that the ‘uncle’ was actually her?

The thought alone made her cringe.

The girl’s friends emerged from the snack shop, calling her name. She quickly said goodbye and hurried toward them.

Feeling peckish, Sang Shi’an also browsed the snack shop, eventually leaving with two overflowing bags of treats.

By the time she got home, she was exhausted and collapsed onto the sofa.

Jian Chenyu sorted the snacks and put them away. When she returned, she found Sang Shi’an sprawled across the entire sofa, still in the same position as before, completely unconcerned that her skirt had ridden up to her thighs. She looked utterly carefree.

A faint smile curved Jian Chenyu’s lips as she stepped forward and tugged Sang Shi’an’s skirt down a couple of times.

Sang Shi’an remained motionless, lazily waiting until Jian Chenyu turned on the TV before finally turning her head to reveal her face. “Watching the news again? Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

Jian Chenyu countered, “And you never get tired of scrolling through videos?”

“That’s different,” Sang Shi’an retorted. “That’s my hobby. This is your job.”

But the look on Jian Chenyu’s face seemed to say, This is my hobby too.

Sang Shi’an fell silent, slowly turning her head back.

She realized that people truly were different.

With Sang Shiyue and Jian Chenyu as exemplary role models before her, Sang Shi’an reflected deeply and declared, “From now on, I’m going to set aside time on weekends to work at the family company.”

Jian Chenyu responded with a flat “Oh.”

She seemed skeptical that Sang Shi’an could actually focus at her age.

“Don’t be so doubtful,” Sang Shi’an insisted.

Jian Chenyu replied with another dismissive “Oh,” utterly perfunctory.

Sang Shi’an: …

After sulking for less than ten minutes, Sang Shi’an nudged Jian Chenyu with her leg. “Um…”

Jian Chenyu, ever patient, replied promptly, “What is it?”

“Will you still teach me how to drive?” Sang Shi’an asked hesitantly, after a long pause.

Jian Chenyu replied, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Sang Shi’an murmured, “I just thought that after the forum incident, you wouldn’t want to spend time with me anymore. I told you we should keep some distance between us normally, otherwise people will keep misunderstanding.”

Jian Chenyu reminded her flatly, “When you were fastening your seatbelt in the car, you were the one who wanted to reply to your friend’s message first and then asked me to help you.”

Sang Shi’an bit her lip, unusually refraining from arguing.

Seeing the person beside her nearly burying her head in the sofa like an ostrich, Jian Chenyu chuckled softly. “I forgot to close the car window at the time. I share the blame.”

Sang Shi’an’s hair was a mess. Jian Chenyu reached over, gathered her static-charged strands, and looped a hair tie around them twice.

“Don’t hide. Come out.”

Caught by her ponytail, Sang Shi’an reluctantly turned around and checked her reflection in her phone. “You tied my hair up terribly.”

“Then fix it yourself,” Jian Chenyu replied.

Sang Shi’an yanked off the hair tie and haphazardly ruffled her hair. “No, I look better with it down.”

“Mm, you do look better with it down,” Jian Chenyu agreed casually, her eyes fixed on the news on TV.

Seeing Jian Chenyu’s cooperation, Sang Shi’an recalled the suggestion from the girl she had met earlier, her eyes flickering with thought.

She grabbed a throw pillow, propped it under her chin, and then invented a reason to help Jian Chenyu.

“We’re practically sisters-in-law now, right…?”

Jian Chenyu’s brow furrowed slightly. “Sisters-in-law?”

Sang Shi’an loathed this kind of repetitive, questioning response. It usually meant her words were being doubted.

Clearly, this was another such instance.

But she stood by her statement. “What? Even though only our families know about your arrangement, you’re not planning to freeload off my brother, are you?”

Sang Shi’an straightened up, glaring at Jian Chenyu, her beautiful face tightening with displeasure.

Trying to sabotage Jian Chenyu and Sang Shiyue’s arranged marriage was one thing; Jian Chenyu wanting the benefits of the marriage while freeloading was another entirely.

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Jian Chenyu noticed and rubbed her temples in exasperation.

Sang Shi’an was stubborn and clueless about romance. There were things she couldn’t say outright, fearing it would backfire and push Sang Shi’an further away. But if she remained silent, it would only lead to situations like this, where Sang Shi’an would concoct wild theories and assign her bizarre character traits.

Half a sister-in-law is better than none.

From childhood sisters to strangers after she went abroad, then to ‘acquaintances’ and now, half sisters-in-law…

At least they weren’t strangers anymore.

That was progress, right?

“I haven’t graduated yet and haven’t considered my relationship with your brother. But I can promise you this: no matter what our relationship becomes, I won’t take advantage of him. Is that enough?”

Jian Chenyu’s sudden, serious tone startled Sang Shi’an, her ear tips flushing slightly.

Eight years separated her and Sang Shiyue, making them seem like they had little in common. But when she was very young, her parents were too busy with work, and the nanny neglected her. It was Sang Shiyue who noticed and had the nanny replaced.

After that, Sang Shi’an was essentially raised by Sang Shiyue.

Later, Sang Shiyue went abroad for university, and Jian Chenyu entered their lives.

Sang Shi’an hadn’t dated for years, partly due to her extreme narcissism.

But mostly, it was because having Sang Shiyue and Jian Chenyu as role models made everyone else seem inadequate.

Therefore, when it came to Sang Shiyue’s marriage, Sang Shi’an approached the matter with particular caution.

But she never imagined that the person her parents had set their sights on would be Jian Chenyu.

Sang Shi’an’s gaze drifted, and she mumbled an ambiguous “Mm.”

“I’m not trying to doubt you, so don’t get angry,” she added, lowering her head in apology. A faint blush rose on her cheeks, barely visible as it drifted into Jian Chenyu’s eyes.

“Your brother and I haven’t started dating yet, so let’s not talk about any sister-in-law relationship for now,” Jian Chenyu replied, still cautiously adding “for now” when addressing Sang Shi’an.

“Okay, okay,” Sang Shi’an said, cutting off the conversation before it strayed further. “The reason I brought this up was actually to ask—since we get along pretty well, should I help you clear things up on the school forum?”

Jian Chenyu lowered the TV volume by two notches. “Weren’t you reluctant just now?”

Sang Shi’an denied it. “When did you hear me say I was reluctant?”

“I didn’t hear you say it, but I could tell from your expression,” Jian Chenyu replied.

Sang Shi’an kicked Jian Chenyu’s shin, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the sofa. “Then why don’t you beg me? Maybe I’ll agree then?”

“I could just hire a lawyer,” Jian Chenyu retorted.

Sang Shi’an: ……

She knew Jian Chenyu would resort to that kind of tactic.

But they were all from the same school. What if she ended up being resented?

Forget it. It’s not my problem anyway.

Sang Shi’an turned away from Jian Chenyu and started playing with her phone. “Suit yourself.”

She opened the school forum. Weekend gossip was in full swing, and someone had already refuted the original poster, pointing out that Yanjing University had plenty of rich second-generation students. Judging by the driver’s physique, he clearly wasn’t some older sugar daddy.

After all, it was common knowledge that older men tend to gain weight.

Someone then started a new thread listing all the single, decent-looking guys at school who had confessed to Jian Chenyu.

Sang Shi’an scrolled through the list and recognized several familiar names—guys who had once tried to woo her too. She curled her lip in disdain and leaned closer to Jian Chenyu. “Chenyu, they’re holding a royal selection for you. Aren’t you even curious?”

“Last time our thread blew up, it was because people didn’t understand our real relationship, leading to all sorts of speculative hot posts. If you don’t stop this thread now, you’ll wake up tomorrow with even more ‘candidates’ to choose from.”

Sang Shi’an’s tone grew increasingly gleeful. “Especially since they’re just selecting potential consorts for you, without directly linking you to any specific person. It doesn’t infringe on your right to reputation, so a lawyer’s letter won’t do any good.”

But no matter what she said, Jian Chenyu remained uninterested, her demeanor as always, calm and detached.

“Just think of it as early practice for journalism students writing news releases,” Jian Chenyu said.

The mention of “news” made Sang Shi’an’s head throb. She snatched the remote and switched off the TV. “What if they take it seriously and start shipping you with someone else?”

Jian Chenyu’s gaze shifted from the blank screen to meet Sang Shi’an’s eyes. “It’s all fabricated anyway. Isn’t it the same as with us? If they spread false rumors, we’ll have grounds to issue a statement.”

“…How can that be the same?” Sang Shi’an looked away, her voice tinged with displeasure. “Does that mean just any random guy can have his name paired with yours?”

Jian Chenyu repeated, “It’s all fabricated.”

Sang Shi’an persisted, “But I already said I could help you clarify things.”

Jian Chenyu turned the TV back on. “Mm, no need.”

Furious, Sang Shi’an hurled a throw pillow at the sofa and stormed off to her room.

The throw pillow bounced off the sofa and landed on the carpet. Jian Chenyu picked it up and was putting it back when Sang Shi’an’s voice drifted from the study doorway: “Hey, are you sure you don’t want my help?”

This was the third time she’d offered. Jian Chenyu turned to see Sang Shi’an’s blurry silhouette through the Chinese-style screen, a smile spreading across her eyes.

She finally said, “Then thank you, An’an. It’ll save me a lot of time communicating with the lawyer.”

Sang Shi’an clapped her slippers loudly as she strutted back to the bedroom, head held high.

If you wanted my help, you should have just said so sooner.

So dramatic.

She went to the school forum and posted:

Title: 【I’m the person in Jian Chenyu’s car. She’s been teaching me how to drive and park lately.】

Main Post: 【I’m Sang Shi’an.】

Simple and direct, she hit send. Then she dropped the post link into their dorm group chat, urging the other three to comment and boost the thread.

The post quickly gained traction, with replies pouring in, expressing disbelief:

Is this the real deal? Oh my god, am I actually seeing the real Sang Shi’an?

So after all this drama, the paparazzi couldn’t even figure out if Jian Chenyu’s partner was male or female? Maybe they should get their eyes checked.

I get it now. Senior Jian didn’t cheat. Sang Shi’an is still firmly seated as the rightful empress.

Seriously? You two went out late at night just to practice driving? Oh, I see. You were testing the car’s durability with certain… physical activities, right?

I told you Sang Shi’an is completely obsessed! Jian Chenyu hasn’t even said anything, but she’s already jumping out to chase away any fox spirits trying to climb the ranks.

Obsessed my ass. You’re the ones who can’t get what you want, so you’re spreading rumors out of desperation.

Sang Shi’an was furious. She wanted to fire back at each comment individually, but the sheer volume was overwhelming. After a moment’s thought, she gave up and stewed in her anger alone.

When she heard Jian Chenyu’s footsteps outside the room, Sang Shi’an leaped out of bed and charged toward her. “Jian Chenyu!”

Jian Chenyu tilted her head.

Sang Shi’an shoved the comments mentioning “rightful empress,” “fox spirits,” and “completely obsessed” in front of Jian Chenyu’s face. “I made such a huge sacrifice to help you. How are you going to thank me?”

After reading the comments on the screen, Jian Chenyu slowly raised her eyes. “How do you want me to thank you?”

“I…” Sang Shi’an opened her mouth, but the words died on her lips.

She hadn’t really thought about what she wanted. Nothing seemed worth asking for.

Her only wish was for Jian Chenyu not to marry her brother. She couldn’t imagine a lesbian marrying him, and she worried that Jian Chenyu, starved for companionship after the wedding, might eventually lower her standards and turn her attention to Sang Shi’an herself.

But she couldn’t say that.

Jian Chenyu, apparently thinking Sang Shi’an had said something, leaned closer. “Next time you’re in a situation like this, should I clarify things for you too?”

Their breaths mingled in the close space. Their heights were nearly the same, and the proximity made it feel like they could kiss at any moment.

Sang Shi’an’s breathing grew shallow, afraid to take a full breath. Her heels pressed against the wall as her fingers tightened into a fist. “Is… is this your way of thanking me?”

She wasn’t stupid. If she clarified things once and Jian Chenyu mirrored her clarification, their relationship would become hopelessly ambiguous. She’d never be able to date anyone else in college.

“If you don’t like it, then think carefully before you speak next time,” Jian Chenyu said, stepping back. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Sang Shi’an nodded vaguely twice and retreated to her room.

Halfway there, she seemed to have a sudden realization. The strange mood that had been weighing on her vanished completely. She turned back, closed her bedroom door, and then hummed a little tune as she headed toward the walk-in closet.