After the Online Romance with the Campus Beauty Roommate Went Wrong - Chapter 25

“When I see people spreading rumors and slandering her, I can’t help but want to defend her. But when others confess their feelings to her, I feel like none of them are worthy of her. And when I hear her family is plotting to frame her, I desperately want to help her.”

“So, Miss Sang, your relationship with her is actually quite good?”

“No, our relationship is terrible. She’s taken over my house, won over my parents’ favor, and everyone at school adores her. We even have some personal conflicts.”

“But what you just said…”

“That’s why I came to see you. Do you think there might be something wrong with my mental state lately? Could I have some kind of self-destructive tendency? Is there any medication for that?”

An hour later, Sang Shi’an slowly emerged from the doctor’s office. Su Ningyue, who had been waiting outside and was nearly asleep, rushed over to her.

“How did it go? What did the doctor say? Let me see the prescription. I’ll go get the medicine for you.”

Sang Shi’an reluctantly opened her medical record and pointed a ghostly finger at the electronic prescription. “Quack.”

Su Ningyue searched each of the three lines of medication on Baidu.

Two types of vitamin tablets and one type of sedative.

The kind even healthy people could take.

She felt a surge of pity for Sang Shi’an. “Why did you insist on seeing a psychiatrist? Why don’t we find a private, more specialized doctor to come to your house?”

Sang Shi’an looked dejected. “Forget it. You know if I called one this morning, my family would find out by afternoon.”

Sang Shi’an hadn’t slept all night, and her mental state was clearly poor. Her face was bloodless and pale, and her eyes lacked their usual sparkle from exhaustion.

Su Ningyue held her arm tightly, afraid she might collapse.

“I don’t think I’m a masochist anymore,” Sang Shi’an said, diagnosing herself with a new condition while sitting at a breakfast stall near the hospital entrance. “I might have dissociative identity disorder—you know, the kind where you have multiple personalities.”

Su Ningyue finally caught on to Sang Shi’an’s train of thought. “Sangsang, people with multiple personalities usually have them triggered by specific people or events. Is that how it is for you too?”

Sang Shi’an’s conviction grew stronger. “Exactly! When I encounter certain people or situations, another personality emerges from within me. Looking back, I feel like I was completely out of my mind at those times.”

Su Ningyue paused. “…Are you talking about when you’re around Senior Jian?”

Sang Shi’an finally couldn’t hold back and repeated to Su Ningyue the same question she had asked the psychologist.

Doctor Su remained silent for a long, long time. “If a professional psychologist says you’re fine, then you’re definitely fine.”

Sang Shi’an persisted, “Then why do I feel this overwhelming urge to protect her?”

Su Ningyue sighed softly, her gaze softening with pity for Sang Shi’an. “Could it be because you used a fake account to catfish her into an online relationship? Did that affect you? Did you chat with Senior Jian the night before you did those things?”

Sang Shi’an’s eyes widened in realization. “So I don’t have split personality disorder?”

Su Ningyue bit into her wonton. “Once you successfully complete your online relationship with Senior Jian and finish your mission, you won’t have these thoughts anymore.”

Sang Shi’an’s moods shifted quickly. Having figured things out, she decided to go home and catch up on sleep. “I’m heading back now. My parents were so confused when they saw me leaving so early this morning. I told them I was going out with you, so please don’t tell anyone I came to the hospital.”

“Don’t worry,” Su Ningyue assured her, making a zipping-lips gesture. Then she called Sang Shi’an back. “Are you going to Ye Wenwen’s birthday party tonight? If you are, I’ll pick up a gift for you when I go shopping this afternoon.”

Sang Shi’an summoned a ride on her phone, replying casually, “Just get me a gift. If I can get up, I’ll go.”

When Sang Shi’an returned home, her parents were in the living room. Ignoring their curious stares, she expressionlessly climbed the stairs, quickly shed her coat, and burrowed under the covers.

As usual, Sang Shi’an sent Jian Chenyu a message via her Cat Cat Account before going to bed:

I couldn’t run into you this weekend, Older Sister. I couldn’t sleep last night because I missed you so much.

Older Sister, I’m going to catch up on sleep now. I hope I can see you in my dreams.

I want to cuddle with you and kiss you, Older Sister. Your lips must be so soft and sweet.

Jian Chenyu didn’t reply immediately. Sang Shi’an stared at her message, earnestly reflecting on it. She realized she was becoming increasingly skilled at this, almost like a professional heartbreaker.

But the moment she remembered that Jian Chenyu liked women yet insisted on marrying into her family, Sang Shi’an’s fleeting guilt vanished.

She tossed her phone onto the bedside table, rolled over, and drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, it was already past five in the afternoon.

After Sang Shi’an had fallen asleep, Jian Chenyu had replied: You never came to school to find me either.

I’ve been right in front of you every day, and you still haven’t noticed, Sang Shi’an thought to herself.

Cat Cat: I was afraid you’d reject me, Older Sister.

Cat Cat: If you liked me just a little more, would you let me come find you?

Jian Chenyu: More?

Cat Cat: I misspoke! I’d be so happy if you liked me even a tiny bit!

Jian Chenyu: Why are you so insecure?

Sang Shi’an hummed softly. Isn’t that because you’re too reserved?

Cat Cat: Because Older Sister is so amazing!

I’m going to work hard to catch up to you and try to get recommended for graduate studies with Professor Xu next year, so I can be your junior sister!

I’m studying hard at the library right now!

Really!

Jian Chenyu: Good, keep it up.

Ever since Jian Chenyu exposed her fabricated exam lie, Sang Shi’an had become increasingly cautious. She switched to her notes app and wrote: Prepare for graduate school recommendation in junior year.

An hour later, after finishing her makeup, Sang Shi’an chose a beautiful off-the-shoulder dress with a neckline trimmed with long, fluffy fur and delicate shimmer. Ignoring the freezing temperatures outside, she figured the bar would be heated anyway.

The birthday girl, Ye Wenwen, was one of Sang Shi’an’s childhood friends. Ye Wenwen had originally gone to college in another province, but after failing ten courses in her first year, the university summoned her for a meeting. Her family, at their wits’ end, decided to send her abroad after the Lunar New Year to get a degree.

The foreign university wasn’t as prestigious as her original one, but it was easier to graduate from, and a foreign degree would still look good on her resume.

To celebrate her birthday, Ye Wenwen had booked an entire bar, hired a chef, and invited everyone to a lavish party.

When Sang Shi’an and Su Ningyue arrived, the party was already in full swing. In addition to their familiar friends, a host of C-list celebrities and online influencers had been invited. Men and women alike were bathed in the surreal glow of multicolored lights, creating a raucous atmosphere.

Sang Shi’an frowned as soon as she entered, rejecting the advances of a stranger before weaving through the crowd with Su Ningyue to find a relatively quiet bar counter.

“Now I understand why she failed ten subjects this year,” Sang Shi’an muttered, circling items on the menu. “Her dad’s about to get promoted, isn’t he? Doesn’t she worry about this kind of behavior getting exposed?”

Su Ningyue glanced over and pointed toward a corner where couples were already engaged in passionate, close-dancing. “She’s just inviting everyone before she leaves. The older crowd loves this kind of thing. Let’s slip out early.”

The Sang Family’s influence had been growing rapidly in recent years. Before Sang Shi’an had even finished settling in, several people approached her, eager to make connections. She ignored them, focusing on her food and offering only perfunctory nods in response.

Half-full, Su Ningyue went to the bar and ordered a Twilight City cocktail, the bartender’s signature creation. The drink, layered with white on top and orange below, swirled with a beautiful golden halo that shimmered under the bar’s dim lights.

Sang Shi’an ordered one too. Finding it quite sweet, she gulped down several mouthfuls before reaching the golden layer in the middle, which turned tart. She smacked her lips. “This doesn’t taste like alcohol at all. It’s sweet and sour—really refreshing.”

Su Ningyue immediately cautioned her, “The lemon masks the alcohol. Pace yourself.”

She had ordered this cocktail before and knew it was made with strong spirits. But Sang Shi’an was drinking it like juice, too fast for Su Ningyue to stop her.

Fortunately, the alcohol took its time to kick in, and Sang Shi’an showed no immediate signs of intoxication. She probably wouldn’t get drunk that easily.

Glancing at her phone’s caller ID, Su Ningyue said, “Take it easy on the drinks. My sister’s calling. I’ll step out to answer it and be right back.”

After Su Ningyue left, a friend of Sang Shiyue approached from the dance floor, tapping Sang Shi’an on the shoulder in surprise. “Hey, little sis! What are you doing sitting here alone? Why aren’t you out dancing?”

Seeing Sang Shi’an glance behind him, the man chuckled knowingly. “Don’t worry, your brother isn’t here. He doesn’t like hanging out with you kids and won’t scold you.”

Sang Shi’an immediately relaxed, relieved. Unable to recall the man’s name, she addressed him with the universal “Brother.” “I didn’t sleep well last night. I wouldn’t have come if it weren’t for my friend’s birthday.”

The man clicked his tongue twice and gestured toward his dance partner. “Then what’s the point of you being here? Look at the girl I brought—pretty, right? How’s my taste compared to your brother’s?”

Sang Shi’an lazily glanced over, taking in the heavily augmented, tech-chic influencer. She paused for a beat before replying, “She’s pretty.”

The man beamed proudly. “She’s got the looks and the figure—a tiny waist and incredibly flexible.”

Sang Shi’an forced an awkward smile. “Then I hope you have a pleasant evening, Brother.”

His competitive spirit satisfied, the man waved goodbye. “Alright, I’m off. If you get too drunk later, come find me. I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

Sang Shi’an watched the man return to the dance floor and resume his flirtatious behavior as if no one else were around. Unable to bear the sight, she quickly turned back to her drink, trying to block out the suggestive sounds.

She had never understood why people would go to such extremes for love, and she found the concept of lust even more incomprehensible.

The hazy air was thick with flirtatious laughter and the rich aroma of alcohol. By now, Sang Shi’an was feeling a bit dizzy. She ignored anyone who tried to strike up a conversation, keeping her head down and scrolling through her phone while waiting for Su Ningyue to return.

She didn’t think she was drunk, attributing her lightheadedness to a sleepless night and thirst. She finished her cocktail.

Noticing her empty glass, the bartender thoughtfully brought her another Twilight City.

It was nearly an hour later when Jian Chenyu arrived, having rushed over after receiving Su Ningyue’s message.

She found Sang Shi’an in a secluded corner of the bar. Her posture was still relatively upright, but her head had slumped forward.

When Jian Chenyu gently turned Sang Shi’an by the shoulder, it took a moment for her eyes to focus. She slowly enunciated each syllable: “Jian… Chen… Yu?”

Jian Chenyu brushed Sang Shi’an’s long hair away from her forehead, praising her like a child, “You recognized me! That’s much better than last time.”

Sang Shi’an hadn’t actually recognized her. The lights were flickering, the figures were moving, and she felt like she was spinning endlessly.

But she recognized Jian Chenyu’s unique, delicate fragrance.

“Where’s Su Ningyue?”

Jian Chenyu half-carried Sang Shi’an to her feet, explaining, “Her older sister took her away. Su Ning Shang called me half an hour ago and asked me to come get you.”

Sang Shi’an barely understood. The moment she steadied herself, the mention of “Su Ning Shang” made her suddenly wrap her arms around Jian Chenyu’s neck, lean close to her ear, and whisper triumphantly, “I’ll tell you a secret no one else knows.”

“I saw her kissing her older sister!” Sang Shi’an rambled, her state of mind unclear as she was carried out. “Every time her sister flies to Yan City, she disappears. I think she likes her too.”

Escaping the noisy main hall, Jian Chenyu leaned Sang Shi’an against the wall for a moment while she rummaged through her bag for the car keys. “You seem to know quite a bit, don’t you?”

“Of course I do…” Sang Shi’an stumbled, grabbing Jian Chenyu for support and wrapping her arms around her like a pillar. She leaned close to Jian Chenyu’s ear, giggling as she whispered, “I can always tell who likes who at a glance.”

“Really?” Jian Chenyu’s tone was icy. She patted Sang Shi’an’s shoulder, trying to get her to settle down.

Lost in her drunken haze, Sang Shi’an only heard what she wanted to hear. She bit Jian Chenyu’s neck fiercely. “Like how you don’t like my brother. I can tell.”

A sharp pain shot through Jian Chenyu’s neck. She ran her fingers through Sang Shi’an’s hair and let out a short laugh. “Maybe you’re right.”

Sang Shi’an hesitated for a moment before Jian Chenyu gripped the back of her neck and pulled her away, then scooped her up and stuffed her into the car. The headlights of the car ahead flashed briefly, blinding Sang Shi’an and making her head spin even more.

By the time Jian Chenyu circled back to the driver’s seat, Sang Shi’an had recovered slightly. Her unbuckled body swayed back and forth until Jian Chenyu steadied her again.

Sang Shi’an tilted her head back, her flushed face a mix of tipsiness and flawless makeup. “Jian Chenyu… why do you always show up whenever I’m drunk? Do you have some kind of superpower?”

Jian Chenyu pressed down on Sang Shi’an’s restless hand, reaching for the seatbelt.

Sang Shi’an grabbed Jian Chenyu’s hand, bit it lightly, then drowsily observed Jian Chenyu’s reaction.

In the dimly lit car, a profound meaning seemed to darken Jian Chenyu’s pale, cool eyes. Sang Shi’an leaned in closer, suddenly breaking into a delighted smile. “It doesn’t hurt… It’s fake again…”

Jian Chenyu’s gaze flickered slightly. “Again?”

Sang Shi’an clearly had no intention of answering. In the next moment, she wrapped her arms around Jian Chenyu’s waist, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“Your waist is so much softer and slimmer,” Sang Shi’an murmured, stroking Jian Chenyu’s side. “Those plastic surgery freaks can’t even compare… My brother would never lose to him…”

Sang Shi’an’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. The effects of the alcohol were taking their toll, making her dizzy and uncomfortable. She pressed her head against Jian Chenyu’s shoulder, inching closer until there was no space left between them.

And so, Jian Chenyu sat in the driver’s seat, while Sang Shi’an lay draped across her lap, her face buried in her chest.

A pair of arms held each other tightly.

One second. One minute.

Ten minutes.

Jian Chenyu let Sang Shi’an hold her. The bite mark on her hand had faded, leaving only a faint, disappearing water stain.

Sang Shi’an seemed to be sound asleep, not even bothered by the center console pressing against her waist. Her breathing had evened out.

Jian Chenyu raised her hand and stroked Sang Shi’an’s head. After a moment, she tightened her embrace.

The car’s air conditioning maintained a constant temperature, and a thin layer of frost quickly formed on the windows, blocking the view from outside.

After an unknown amount of time, Sang Shi’an finally stirred in Jian Chenyu’s arms, waking up from the uncomfortable sleeping position. She mumbled groggily, asking for her phone.

The phone had slipped under the seat, out of Jian Chenyu’s reach while holding her. She could only offer her own phone. “What do you need your phone for?”

Sang Shi’an squinted, taking a long moment to remember what she wanted.

“…I want to check the time.”

“It’s 9:12.”

“The library’s about to close.” Sang Shi’an took Jian Chenyu’s phone, clutching it in her hand, her voice fading to a whisper. “I need to text Older Sister.”

Jian Chenyu’s lowered lashes hid the expression in her eyes. After a long, silent pause, she let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Little liar.”

Sang Shi’an woke up the next morning to Jian Chenyu’s call, unsurprisingly with a throbbing headache. Remembering her two tax law and economic law classes that morning, she gritted her teeth, got up, and washed up.

Her last memory from the night before was Jian Chenyu leading her out of the bar. After that, she seemed to have completely blacked out, unable to recall how or when she got home.

She planned to text Su Ningyue to ask her to bring breakfast.

But to her surprise, Su Ningyue had already arranged a substitute teacher late last night and sent Sang Shi’an the substitute’s WeChat ID, asking her to look after them during class.

Sang Shi’an: ……

Sang Shi’an rubbed her temples, a wave of speechlessness washing over her.

While doing her skincare routine, she switched her WeChat account to her Cat Cat Account.

There was a message from Jian Chenyu from the previous night. Sang Shi’an had initially dismissed it as just a polite inquiry about her well-being, assuming it was sent when the library closed.

But when she opened her phone, the two most recent messages were:

Cat Cat: But I really love Older Sister so much and want to date her. Will Older Sister be with me? I promise to be good and listen to you and treat you well.

Jian Chenyu: Okay.