After the Online Romance with the Campus Beauty Roommate Went Wrong - Chapter 23

Professor Xu kept the two students for a full half-hour. Just as Sang Shi’an’s smile was about to freeze on her face, Professor Xu turned to her and asked, “Xiao Sang, have you considered pursuing graduate studies?”

To be honest, Sang Shi’an hadn’t given it much thought. The first-year curriculum was too foundational and broad, with little differentiation across the entire School of Economics and Management, let alone any specific research focus.

Under Professor Xu’s encouraging gaze, Sang Shi’an nodded obediently. “I’ve thought about it, but it depends on my grades. I’ll work hard.”

“Your grades are more than sufficient,” Professor Xu assured her. “You don’t need to be at the top of your class.” After glancing at Jian Chenyu, she added, “You should also connect with your senior brothers and sisters more often. Ask them about their experiences.”

Understanding Professor Xu’s hint, Sang Shi’an immediately replied, “Then I’ll definitely ask Senior Jian for advice.”

Satisfied, Professor Xu waved them off.

As they left the office, Sang Shi’an let out a long sigh of relief. When she looked up, she met Jian Chenyu’s gaze.

“What are you looking at? Are you happy I called you ‘Senior Sister’?” Sang Shi’an snapped, her expression fierce, like a cat ready to scratch.

“You’re the one who insisted on acting so well-behaved in front of Professor Xu,” Jian Chenyu said, gently pushing Sang Shi’an’s stiff back. “It’s getting late. Let’s go eat.”

By December, the nights grew dark early, the sky a heavy, smoky blue intertwined with the pale yellow of the round moon.

Under the cover of darkness, Sang Shi’an gazed at Jian Chenyu’s silhouette for a moment before finally asking, “Did you know Professor Xu was looking for theses to submit? Is that why you lent me your research materials and that draft you wrote for reference?”

When Sang Shi’an was drafting her thesis, news of her “cohabitation” with Jian Chenyu had just broken. She had rushed the initial draft, but after the company whose case study she was using won their lawsuit, she had to rewrite it several times.

Jian Chenyu replied casually, “It was just a convenience.”

Sang Shi’an narrowed her eyes. “A convenience to lend me the materials back then, or a convenience to have me write this entire thesis?”

Under the streetlights, Jian Chenyu countered, “Why are you asking?”

Sang Shi’an blurted out, “Because back then—”

Back then, she had avoided Jian Chenyu like the plague and constantly picked at her flaws. Knowing what Jian Chenyu was writing about, she had deliberately expanded on the arguments Jian Chenyu hadn’t fully developed, as if they were competing.

That’s how they ended up being featured together in the financial magazine.

“It’s exactly what you think,” Jian Chenyu said, turning to look at Sang Shi’an. “I did it to ease the tension between us at the time.”

The streetlights flickered on, gradually illuminating Jian Chenyu’s face—clear, calm, and sincere.

Sang Shi’an paused, startled.

That subtle emotion began to tickle her heart again.

By the time they had walked through the snack street and reached the entrance of Left Bank Community, Jian Chenyu asked, “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

“Anything’s fine,” Sang Shi’an replied.

Jian Chenyu saw through her. “You didn’t seem interested in any of the restaurants we passed.”

Sang Shi’an quickly made up an excuse. “I was just worried you wouldn’t like them.”

“Get in the car.” Jian Chenyu pressed the remote to unlock the car, opened the passenger door with a hint of urgency. “We’ll go somewhere farther away. You can practice driving on the way back.”

Sang Shi’an settled into the car and started searching for restaurants on her phone. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Pick whatever you like,” Jian Chenyu said, unlocking her phone and swiping to the navigation app. “Just try to avoid places with a hundred-table wait like last time. Set the navigation.”

The car’s built-in navigation system, customized by a foreign automotive tech company, wasn’t as up-to-date with local businesses as domestic navigation apps.

Sang Shi’an found the restaurant on the navigation app as the car merged onto the elevated highway. Just as she was about to hand the phone back, a call from “Ji Ming” popped up on the connected car display.

Jian Chenyu glanced at the screen and tapped to answer.

The navigation map continued to function diligently, its voice switching to the call audio. “Xiao Jian, do you have a moment? Is it a good time to talk?”

Ji Ming’s voice sounded hesitant, as if she were about to share some confidential work matter.

Sang Shi’an glanced at the road ahead and, sensing the situation, pointed to the exit sign. “Pull over there. I heard there are some new cake shops nearby. I’ll go check them out. Call me when you’re done.”

Jian Chenyu didn’t turn the wheel, continuing to drive up the highway. “Going out in this thin outfit to catch a cold?”

Sang Shi’an turned indignantly. “I’m not cold at all! Besides, you’re the one who wanted me to listen to this call. Don’t blame me if any secrets get leaked!”

Jian Chenyu glanced at the navigation and changed lanes. “When have I ever given you trouble?”

Sang Shi’an: ……

Hmm, he’s right. It’s always been me causing him problems.

A rare pang of conscience struck Sang Shi’an, leaving her feeling slightly guilty.

She casually opened an app on her phone. “You two can talk. Don’t mind me, I’m just going to play games.”

“Alright,” Jian Chenyu replied, the smile slowly fading from her lips. Turning to Ji Ming on the phone, she said, “Just get straight to the point.”

Ji Ming held her breath for a long moment. Jian Chenyu’s slightly cold voice sounded like a lifeline, and she finally began her report.

During the five minutes she had been ignored, she had almost convinced herself that Jian Chenyu had forgotten about her. The warm, smiling tone she had heard earlier was nothing like the Xiao Jian she knew.

Ever since Jian Chenyu’s cousin, Jian Zhenyang, had stirred up trouble recently, Ji Ming had been following Jian Chenyu’s instructions to monitor Jian Zhenyang’s movements and secretly investigate the matter. Today, she had compiled the clues and made a new discovery.

“The house Jian Zhenyang owns on Golden Bay Mountain was transferred to a new owner a week ago. It’s now registered under the name Lu Wan.”

“Lu Wan is the wife of Wu Dong, a finance-related technician at the Jian Clan. He’s not a particularly important figure in the company. The gift of a property worth nearly ten million yuan is highly suspicious, so I dug deeper. I suspect this might be related to Jian Zhenyang’s efforts to list the Huaxing Project on the stock market. Wu Dong’s position may seem insignificant, but he has direct access to the project’s financing and bond data.”

The call lasted nearly twenty minutes, until the elevated highway cleared during the evening rush hour.

Jian Chenyu’s expression darkened as the call progressed, her brow furrowed in rare display of genuine negative emotion.

Sang Shi’an listened for a few moments before realizing the gravity of the situation. She immediately muted her phone, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible.

It seemed the internal power struggles within the Jian Family were far more intense than the media had reported.

Sang Shi’an quietly switched to her notes app and jotted down key terms she’d overheard. Even if she didn’t understand them, her brother might. Later, she could remove any Jian Clan references and present it as a case study from class, asking her brother for his insights.

After driving for a while, the coldness in Jian Chenyu’s eyes gradually faded. As the navigation system announced the destination was just a hundred meters ahead, she slowed down and began looking for a parking spot.

This time, following Jian Chenyu’s suggestion, Sang Shi’an chose a relatively quiet restaurant. They were seated immediately upon entering and placed their orders.

The Western-style restaurant was decorated like a whimsical haunted house, with cartoonish wizard figures perched beside each booth. Even the music playing was upbeat English pop.

While ordering, Jian Chenyu received another phone call. When she hung up, Sang Shi’an felt the tension around her drop even further.

Even the long hair cascading over her chest seemed stiff and cold.

Sang Shi’an propped her head with one hand and pointed at the nearby doll. “Jian Chenyu, your face is almost as dark as that wizard over there.”

“Then you’d better watch out.”

Backlit by the orange glow of the pumpkin lanterns behind her, Jian Chenyu’s gaze slowly met Sang Shi’an’s eyes. Her teasing tone was soft, like water flowing into her ear.

Sang Shi’an paused, then scooted twenty centimeters closer to Jian Chenyu. “I could hear you in the car,” she said slowly. “You’re in a bad mood, aren’t you?”

“You understood that?” Jian Chenyu asked.

Of course, Sang Shi’an hadn’t understood much. She only knew that Jian Chenyu’s cousin was plotting something with some company people, but the specifics remained unclear.

“Isn’t it just them teaming up to kick you out?” Sang Shi’an offered a generic answer. “Perfect timing! I’m going to my brother’s place in a few days to do some grunt work. I’ll ask him if there are any new projects your family could collaborate on, and maybe I can take charge of them?”

No matter how casually Jian Chenyu tried to appear, Sang Shi’an immediately recognized the concern in her eyes. Her gaze slowly swept over the beautiful face leaning closer, and she shook her head. “Don’t bother with all that.”

Sang Shi’an: “Oh.”

Then keep pretending you’re fine.

The appetizers arrived one after another. Sang Shi’an, who was helping Su Ningyue review the restaurant, photographed each dish and even took pictures of the restaurant’s ambiance.

As she shifted the camera slightly, Jian Chenyu, sitting beside her, came into frame.

Jian Chenyu was currently focused on a document, her expression intent. Sang Shi’an recalled asking Jian Chenyu why she had chosen to pursue a second master’s degree at Yanjing University. Given the chaos within the Jian Clan, specializing solely in pharmacy wouldn’t be enough to outmaneuver those old foxes. No wonder her parents had chosen Jian Chenyu as their future daughter-in-law.

At that moment, Jian Chenyu suddenly looked up. “…Were you secretly taking pictures of me?” she asked, her voice tinged with hesitation.

Sang Shi’an’s hand jerked, her fingertip accidentally brushing the shutter button. A new photo was automatically saved to her album.

If Jian Chenyu asked to see it, she wouldn’t have time to delete it.

After a moment’s hesitation, Sang Shi’an immediately locked her phone. “I was taking pictures of the restaurant for my friend,” she explained. “I accidentally got you in the frame.”

Jian Chenyu’s gaze lingered on her face for a moment, leaving Sang Shi’an unsure whether he believed her or not. “Alright, let’s eat.”

This made Sang Shi’an lose her appetite. Several times during the meal, she wanted to defend herself, but she worried Jian Chenyu would think she cared too much.

As she hesitated for the fourth time, Jian Chenyu suddenly put down his utensils, picked up a french fry, dipped it in ketchup, and fed it to her.

Sang Shi’an mumbled through the fry in her mouth, “What are you doing?”

“It’s not as serious as you think,” Jian Chenyu finally explained the deeper meaning behind the phone call in the car. “Jian Zhenyang wants to use a shell company to raise capital. Since I discovered his plan early on, I won’t let him succeed.”

Hearing the words “I won’t let him succeed,” Sang Shi’an’s anxiety instantly turned into annoyance. “Jian Chenyu, did you even wash your hands before grabbing that fry?”

Jian Chenyu wiped his hands and picked up his utensils again. “No, just don’t eat the bottom part.”

Sang Shi’an spat out the end of the fry, her tone finally lightening. “Do you really need to tell me that?”