After the Online Romance with the Campus Beauty Roommate Went Wrong - Chapter 34

As they drove around searching for an empty parking space, Sang Shi’an kept tapping her phone screen with her nails, the only sound in the car being the soft music playing.

Jian Chenyu noticed Sang Shi’an stealing glances at her. Whenever she glanced back, Sang Shi’an would quickly resume typing, her expression shifting accordingly.

Sang Shi’an was acting unusually tonight. She hadn’t even protested when Jian Chenyu called her “girlfriend” and had spent so much time browsing the mall.

When Sang Shi’an’s typing slowed, Jian Chenyu asked casually, “I’ve made up for all the birthday gifts I missed over the past few years. What do you want for this year?”

Sang Shi’an was born on Christmas Eve, a day of family gatherings in many countries, much like the loving environment she grew up in.

After a moment’s thought, Sang Shi’an replied, “There’s nothing I particularly want. When I was little, I dreamed of renting out an entire amusement park so I could be the princess for a day, riding any ride without waiting in line. But now, it just seems childish.”

“Have you thought about how you want to celebrate your birthday this year?” Jian Chenyu pressed.

“Let’s have dinner with my parents first, then go out with friends to rent a private room and have some fun?” Sang Shi’an asked Jian Chenyu, since they were already on the topic. “What about you? How did you celebrate your birthdays during those four years in England? Did foreigners have any special traditions?”

Outside the car, a light snow began to fall. Jian Chenyu turned on the wipers and replied, “It wasn’t much different from how university students celebrate in China.”

“It might not be different from China, but you’re different from me,” Sang Shi’an said, tightening her seatbelt and leaning closer. “Were you single for all four birthdays?”

Jian Chenyu: ……

The temperature outside the car dropped noticeably with the snowfall, and a thin layer of frost formed on the windshield. Jian Chenyu turned up the heat, which helped a little.

She reached up to loosen her scarf, unbuttoned the top two buttons of her light-colored shirt, and smiled. “Are you genuinely curious about how I celebrated my birthdays, or are you just trying to pry into my personal life?”

Of course, it’s the latter.

Sang Shi’an hadn’t forgotten Jian Chenyu’s comment about “special preferences” after moving into her apartment, nor the assertive demeanor Jian Chenyu had displayed with Cat Cat.

While it had nothing to do with actual BDSM, that excessive sense of control had piqued Sang Shi’an’s curiosity to no end.

“Just tell me whatever,” Sang Shi’an said. “We’re still a long way from Left Bank, so let’s just kill some time.”

“No,” Jian Chenyu replied.

“Huh?” Sang Shi’an asked.

A red light appeared ahead. Jian Chenyu slowly pressed the brakes, bringing the car to a smooth stop, and turned to face Sang Shi’an.

“I had to complete both my bachelor’s and master’s degrees in just four years. There wasn’t any time for dating.”

Her voice remained unchanged, but the soft music playing in the car lent it a low, gentle warmth.

Sang Shi’an’s ear tingled. “Ah, your college life must have been really boring,” she remarked dryly.

“Not really. You get along so well with your friends, don’t you? College doesn’t have to be about dating to be fulfilling. But…” Jian Chenyu seemed to sense something and turned to look at Sang Shi’an. “Why are you suddenly asking about this? Are you trying to get information for your brother?”

Sang Shi’an gripped the edge of the leather seat, her grip tightening. “I’m not the type to tattle. It’s just that…”

Jian Chenyu noticed the change in Sang Shi’an’s demeanor. Even with the music playing, she could sense Sang Shi’an’s slightly strained breathing.

She smiled. “What’s this? Are you thinking about dating?”

Sang Shi’an shook her head. “Not really.”

Jian Chenyu pressed further. “Then are you considering it? Or did some boy confess to our An’an and spark this idea?”

Her tone was exactly the same as when she talked about dating with Sang Shiyue, as if she were speaking purely from an older sister’s perspective, without any ulterior motives.

Sang Shi’an felt inexplicably irritated.

She hadn’t been thinking about this at all, but Jian Chenyu’s question had actually made her want to test the waters.

The traffic light turned green, and the car started moving again. Afraid Jian Chenyu might not hear her, Sang Shi’an raised her voice: “It’s just—”

Jian Chenyu took off her scarf and handed it to Sang Shi’an, gesturing for her to put it in the cramped back seat. She waited patiently and quietly for Sang Shi’an to speak.

Snowflakes drifted down from the sky, illuminated by warm-toned streetlights that painted the road like a warm oil painting. A blinding glare from oncoming high beams momentarily distracted Sang Shi’an from her anxiety. She said, slowly and deliberately, “I like you.”

For once, Jian Chenyu’s steering faltered, causing her to drift over the solid lane line and get caught by the overhead camera.

Sang Shi’an couldn’t detect any reaction on Jian Chenyu’s face. She added softly, “…Is that enough for a confession?”

Jian Chenyu’s tongue pressed down imperceptibly. Her tone remained casual as she replied, “So it wasn’t someone confessing to you, but rather someone you’ve taken a liking to? Just those words might not sound sincere enough.”

Sang Shi’an nodded. After saying it once, speaking again felt natural. “I like you. You’re the first person I’ve ever liked. I only realized it recently, but I think I’ll keep liking you for a long time.”

Her words flowed smoothly, like she was reciting a pre-rehearsed script, or perhaps joking.

“How about this?”

Jian Chenyu calmly drove onto the elevated highway, her gaze fixed on the license plate of the car ahead. Her perfect vision couldn’t make out the numbers, but she could feel her heart racing.

The highway’s yellowish lights reflected off the car’s glass, casting a faint glow on her delicate features.

“This should be my line. I liked you long before you liked me.”

Mimicking Sang Shi’an’s tone, she turned to her. “Our An’an is so beautiful. Any boy would say exactly that to you.”

Realizing Jian Chenyu was teasing her, Sang Shi’an grew even more agitated.

If she were facing any other woman, she might have thought the other person was just too shy to understand.

But this was Jian Chenyu.

Sang Shi’an had witnessed Jian Chenyu’s behavior toward Cat Cat.

Even before Jian Chenyu agreed to be with Cat Cat, she had already displayed an intense possessiveness and control—a stark contrast to how she treated Sang Shi’an now.

Sang Shi’an sighed, her voice tinged with melancholy. “I’m not sure if she even likes me. Jian Chenyu, don’t try to comfort me like that. If I fail, I might come crying to you.”

Jian Chenyu chuckled. “Go ahead. You’ve cried to me countless times since we were kids. What’s one more?”

Sang Shi’an grunted in response, falling silent.

She turned away, tracing figures in the condensation on the car window, ignoring Jian Chenyu.

Within five minutes, several stick figures appeared, each crossed out after completion. Afraid Jian Chenyu would notice, she abruptly wiped them away with her palm.

The cold seeped into her bones.

Twenty minutes later, Jian Chenyu pulled the car into a vacant parallel parking spot near the Left Bank Community. Turning to switch seats with Sang Shi’an, she found her asleep.

A few strands of hair lay softly across Sang Shi’an’s face, giving her an unexpectedly docile appearance.

Jian Chenyu didn’t wake her. Instead, she quietly studied Sang Shi’an’s sleeping face, pondering her earlier words in the car and her series of unusual actions tonight.

Perhaps Sang Shi’an really has realized something, she thought.

Or maybe it’s just a passing whim.

Sang Shi’an wasn’t deeply asleep. She stirred as the car came to a stop, slowly waking up. “Jian Chenyu, are we there?”

Jian Chenyu replied, “Awake now?”

“If you’re tired, go back to sleep. The weather’s getting worse tonight; the road is already starting to ice over, and the car might skid.”

Sang Shi’an rubbed her eyes, then remembered her eye makeup and forcibly restrained her hands. She flipped down the vanity mirror to check her appearance.

Jian Chenyu, surprised that Sang Shi’an’s entire focus was on her face, chuckled. “It’s fine. No one will see it at night.”

How could no one see it? Isn’t Jian Chenyu a person?

Only after meticulously inspecting her face did Sang Shi’an deign to respond. “Your car has a low chassis. Even if it skids, it won’t be too bad. If I can master driving on icy roads now, won’t I be even better when the road has more traction?”

Especially since she wanted to stall for time.

She suddenly didn’t want Jian Chenyu to rush home and spend the night cooing over Cat Cat.

Sang Shi’an made Jian Chenyu demonstrate the parallel parking technique again, from the position of the tires relative to the parking space lines to the timing of the steering wheel turns.

Jian Chenyu explained everything step by step. As she switched places with Sang Shi’an, she activated the car’s anti-skid mode for extreme weather.

Though it wouldn’t make a significant difference, it would at least provide a bit more traction.

The moment Sang Shi’an pushed open the car door, snowflakes swirled inside. The wind cleared her head slightly as she brushed past Jian Chenyu, and a strange emotion surged through her.

It was the dissatisfaction of realizing that her years of friendship couldn’t compare to the affection Jian Chenyu showed for some stray cat.

Harboring these thoughts, Sang Shi’an slammed on the brakes with unusual force, causing the gift bags in the back to spill forward.

Jian Chenyu seemed to notice and glanced her way. “Why are you braking so hard?”

“Haven’t driven in days. Maybe I’m not used to the pedal pressure anymore?”

Sang Shi’an mumbled, “Yeah, maybe.”

How can I prove I truly love Jian Chenyu? she wondered.

Her confession earlier seemed to have no real impact. After all, those words could be said to anyone; saying them to Jian Chenyu wouldn’t cost her anything.

There was no difference.

What was something only lovers could do, something friends couldn’t?

Sang Shi’an remained silent, while Jian Chenyu continued to watch her patiently.

Sang Shi’an tilted her head and suddenly let out a soft hiss.

Jian Chenyu: “What’s wrong?”

Sang Shi’an bit her lower lip. “The milk tea was too hot,” she said. “I think I burned my mouth and got a little blister, and now I accidentally bit it open.”

Jian Chenyu gestured for Sang Shi’an to shift into Park, then turned on the interior lights and leaned over to lift her chin. “Where?”

Sang Shi’an pointed to her left cheek. “There.”

Of course, Jian Chenyu couldn’t find the nonexistent injury.

He adjusted his angle several times, but Sang Shi’an kept moving the location—first up, then down, and eventually claiming it was in her throat.

Just before Jian Chenyu’s patience ran out, Sang Shi’an finally stopped acting. “It just really hurts,” she said flatly.

To avoid arousing suspicion, she subtly bit her cheek. “It really hurts.”

A faint mist seemed to gather in her beautiful eyes.

Seeing her reflection in the car window, Sang Shi’an recalled Su Ningyue’s comments about the second male lead in movies and suddenly realized she was turning into a “white lotus” character.

She was being so dramatic.

But what infuriated her even more was that despite all her theatrics, she still hadn’t managed to kiss Jian Chenyu.

Sang Shi’an’s heart sank to the bottom. She casually muttered a couple of phrases and resumed practicing her driving, her frustration simmering.

This was her third attempt at parallel parking. By the time she could execute one perfect maneuver out of five attempts, Jian Chenyu glanced at the time and suggested, “It’s almost ten. Let’s head back. You have a morning class tomorrow.”

Sang Shi’an nodded absently, her gaze fixed on Jian Chenyu’s lips. Will I finally figure out tonight if my feelings for her are the kind that could lead to a relationship? she wondered.

Jian Chenyu continued, “The snow’s getting heavier. It’ll be difficult to carry things. We can leave the groceries in the car for now, and I’ll bring them up tomorrow morning. Put on a warm coat—don’t catch a cold again.”

Sang Shi’an’s words went in one ear and out the other, completely absorbed in her own thoughts. Just as Jian Chenyu opened the car door to get out, Sang Shi’an blurted out, “Um—”

“What is it?” Jian Chenyu asked.

“My foot feels like it’s cramping,” Sang Shi’an said, pointing to her left foot.

When Jian Chenyu looked over, Sang Shi’an realized it sounded awkward and quickly switched to her right foot. “I think I pressed the gas and brake too much. It really hurts.”

Sang Shi’an had only meant to test the waters, but she never expected Jian Chenyu to actually get out of the car, walk around, and crouch down to check on her.

Snowflakes quickly landed on her shoulders, melting into icy water that seeped into her wool coat.

Sang Shi’an felt guilty for taking advantage of Jian Chenyu’s concern and deceiving her.

Unable to maintain the pretense, she changed her tune. “Actually, it’s not that bad. I just need to rest for a bit.”

“Don’t be stubborn.” Jian Chenyu seemed to smile, giving her a disapproving look before swinging the car door wide open. “Come on, I’ll carry you.”

Sang Shi’an avoided Jian Chenyu’s gaze. “No need…”

“Hurry up, you’re getting wet.” Jian Chenyu pointed to the falling snow.

Awkwardly, Sang Shi’an leaned closer. Jian Chenyu lifted her out of the car, and as her hands instinctively reached to circle his neck—

Jian Chenyu straightened up, his arms automatically adjusting her weight.

Caught off guard, Sang Shi’an tightened her grip, her face colliding with Jian Chenyu’s as momentum carried her forward. Her pupils dilated sharply.

Snowflakes swirled through the air.

She had finally kissed the corner of Jian Chenyu’s lips.