After the Online Romance with the Campus Beauty Roommate Went Wrong - Chapter 38

After realizing that her feelings for Jian Chenyu had given rise to a series of emotions—reluctance to let go, jealousy, and fear of losing her—Sang Shi’an completely let go of her inhibitions. She didn’t even need Su Ningyue to egg her on; she spent her days at school unilaterally clinging to Jian Chenyu.

Jian Chenyu, ever the rule-follower, remained composed even when Sang Shi’an “sprained her ankle” and fell into her arms three times a day. Without a change in expression, she would crouch down to examine Sang Shi’an’s feigned injuries.

Sang Shi’an relished the feeling of having Jian Chenyu’s undivided attention. Even their late-night chats on the Cat Cat Account felt much more enjoyable than before.

Whenever she remembered that the Cat Cat Account was meant to sabotage her brother’s arranged marriage, she swallowed down the petty jealousy she felt toward “Cat Cat.”

She had spent half a month wearing through all the outfits she’d bought at the Anime Convention, and tonight was the last one.

Sang Shi’an first put on the top in front of the mirror, then began attaching the accessories to her belt one by one. Jian Chenyu’s video call request popped up, and in her haste, Sang Shi’an stepped on the hem of her skirt, tearing off a piece of the delicate fabric.

A look of utter helplessness twisted across Sang Shi’an’s beautiful features.

Since it was the last set, Sang Shi’an had no choice but to answer the call, forcing herself to say, “I…”

“Why are you dressed like that?” Jian Chenyu sounded genuinely surprised.

A moment later, a teasing voice chimed in, “Is Cat Cat playing the role of a damsel in distress?”

Heat flushed across Sang Shi’an’s cheeks, spreading to the back of her ears. Thankfully, her mask concealed her expression from the camera. Her hand, hidden behind her back, obediently tugged the fabric off her right shoulder.

“I… I haven’t finished dressing yet,” Sang Shi’an said, her voice soft and clingy, deliberately pitched higher.

Even just sitting before the camera, the medieval princess in her torn gown was strikingly captivating.

“But Cat Cat,” Jian Chenyu’s voice carried a hint of laughter, the end of his sentence lifting lightly, “your leg garter is buckled backwards.”

Sang Shi’an felt like a cat whose tail had been stroked to the root, her entire body twitching involuntarily.

“Why are you reacting so strongly?” Jian Chenyu chuckled, as if remembering something else. “Cat Cat, you’re so sensitive.”

Sang Shi’an: ……

Ah—

No matter how many video calls Sang Shi’an had with Jian Chenyu or how many times she’d heard similar words, she always doubted if Jian Chenyu had been replaced by an imposter.

This version of Jian Chenyu belonged solely to Cat Cat, as if she had stolen him.

Sang Shi’an’s emotions were a tangled mess. She had often felt the urge to confess to Jian Chenyu, especially when she was immersed in playing Cat Cat, feeling justified in treating him as her own possession.

But whenever she remembered that Cat Cat’s existence had begun as a prank, a deception, Sang Shi’an would quickly dismiss the thought.

Deception was the worst thing in a relationship, so she never wanted Jian Chenyu to suspect her past intentions—those thoughts of exposing his sexuality.

She absolutely couldn’t admit to being Cat Cat.

Sang Shi’an suppressed her emotions and took a deep breath.

Then, lifting her skirt completely, she re-fastened the leg harness. Her straight, pale legs stood before the camera, and beneath her slender ankles, her jade-like feet slowly tensed. She checked herself repeatedly in the phone’s camera before asking obediently, “What about now? It still feels crooked to me.”

A section of the skirt had been torn off, throwing the entire garment askew. No matter how carefully she adjusted the leg harness, it remained crooked.

Sang Shi’an knelt, trying to adjust the skirt without bending over to look. She feared that lowering her head would bring her into the camera’s view. Instead, she straightened her back and twisted her waist, bending awkwardly. A thin layer of sweat quickly formed in the tense hollow of her back.

“If only Older Sister were here, she could help me fix this,” Sang Shi’an said to her phone, her tone casually probing. “We’ve known each other for over a month now. If Older Sister likes me so much, why has she never mentioned wanting to meet me? Or even asked for my photo? Isn’t she worried I might be hideous?”

“It’s better we haven’t met. Otherwise…” Jian Chenyu’s voice trailed off.

Suspended in this awkward position, Sang Shi’an frowned. Even annoyed, she maintained her Cat Cat persona, using a coquettish tone. “Otherwise what? Does Older Sister really not have any desire to meet me?”

If you truly like someone, wouldn’t you be curious about their appearance?

“Didn’t you say you were tired from helping Senior Sister with chores today? You don’t need to split your energy on me. How about I tell you a story so you can get to sleep early?” Jian Chenyu’s voice suddenly turned incredibly gentle, almost like the tone she used with Sang Shi’an—a rare occurrence with Cat Cat.

Sang Shi’an’s half-open skirt swayed as she followed Jian Chenyu’s instructions and crawled into bed, her tone tinged with defiance. “Hmph.”

The camera focused on the pristine white high-thread-count sheets as a soft voice whispered in her ear.

“You are the royal family’s most beloved princess, raised in a castle since birth. One day, you shed your heavy gown and, while your maids weren’t watching, secretly ventured into the dense forest beyond the castle walls.”

“The forest was shrouded in thick mist, everywhere blooming with roses. Thorny brambles tore at your newly changed princess dress, and before long, you lost your way. The damp wind licked across your skin inch by inch.”

Sang Shi’an: …

Is this a bedtime story?

“In the forest, you spotted another castle, its black silhouette barely visible through the fog. You glimpsed the faint outline of a woman. As you stepped closer to get a better look, you fainted, carried deeper into the castle by the heavy mist.”

Sang Shi’an unconsciously tightened her legs, belatedly realizing that the bedtime story was related to the clothes she was wearing.

“Older Sister…”

Jian Chenyu didn’t respond, continuing in a gentle yet seductive voice: “When you wake again, you find yourself lying on a bed of roses, your hands and feet entwined by thorny vines, your eyes obscured by petals.”

“A soft, warm sensation presses against your lips. You quickly realize it’s a kiss, inching across your exposed skin. The more you struggle, the tighter the vines twist around your limbs.”

“Thorns pierce your skin, leaving vivid red marks. Venom seeps into your flesh, and a burning heat spreads through your body.”

“Stop—stop it!” Sang Shi’an fumbled for her phone, trying to turn it off.

“Cat Cat, lie still,” Jian Chenyu said, his voice turning cold as if sensing her resistance.

Sang Shi’an’s hand retreated.

“Your skirt is lifted, and a sharp pain stabs through your damp chest. You cry louder, but you can’t stop your body’s unfamiliar reactions. You can only futilely clench your legs as the vines disappear beneath your skirt, deeper and deeper.”

“Do you know why I never asked for your photo?”

“Because I was afraid that if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to resist locking you up.”

“My Cat Cat.”

The sound of a shower running filled Sang Shi’an’s bedroom.

The en-suite bathroom was small. When she lived alone, she had always used the bathtub in the larger bathroom in the living room. Even after Jian Chenyu moved in, she continued this habit.

But tonight, she unexpectedly turned on the shower in her bedroom—a faucet she hadn’t used since the renovation. The initial spray was slightly yellowed before clearing to a transparent stream.

After showering, she saw a link Su Ningyue had sent her: a recent article published in a top international journal by Jian Chenyu on the application of CRISPR-Cas9 in cancer cell research. Jian Zhiyan was listed as the supervising professor.

Although Jian Chenyu was pursuing a master’s degree in Finance at Yanjing University, the article was exceptionally featured on the university’s official website due to Jian Zhiyan’s influence. This led to the exposure of Jian Chenyu’s academic background in the UK.

“Exposure” might be too strong a word. It was more like a cobbled-together narrative pieced together by the Department of Chemistry’s fanboys and fangirls, but it was largely accurate.

Highly intelligent, wealthy, the School Belle, and abstinent—when these four traits converged in one person, it was like a refreshing spring breeze, stirring countless hearts into disarray.

Sang Shi’an leaned against the bathroom sink, lost in thought for a long, long time.

Then she knocked on Jian Chenyu’s door.

Jian Chenyu seemed to have just finished showering; a wave of warm, humid air greeted Sang Shi’an. Both women’s hair was dry, with only a few damp strands clinging to their cheeks.

“It looks like it’s going to rain,” Sang Shi’an blurted out, her words jarring against Jian Chenyu’s puzzled gaze.

“Then I’ll go take the laundry off the balcony,” Jian Chenyu said, stepping outside.

Sang Shi’an followed to help. “Let’s use the dryer instead. I’ll help you gather the clothes.”

The night sky flickered faintly with white light, the distant rumble of thunder barely audible. Sang Shi’an suddenly said, “I heard your thesis was published. Congratulations!”

Jian Chenyu smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

“There are so many threads about you on the school forum. Have you seen them?” Sang Shi’an asked, referring mainly to the posts where people were clamoring to confess their feelings to Jian Chenyu.

Jian Chenyu put the clothes into the dryer and shook her head. “Not yet.”

Sang Shi’an crouched beside her, handing over the clothes, her mind elsewhere. “Oh.”

Just as she finished speaking, Jian Chenyu reached out and gently pinched her cheek.

Sang Shi’an gasped, swatting Jian Chenyu’s hand away, her neck flushing crimson. “What are you doing?!”

Jian Chenyu seemed equally startled by her reaction, freezing for a few seconds. She pressed her lips together, closed the dryer door, adjusted the settings, and started the machine.

“Any new gossip on the school forum?”

Sang Shi’an had been waiting for this question. She stood up casually. “They’re all speculating about what kind of person you like. Some say you prefer quiet and obedient types, while others think you’re drawn to passionate and outgoing personalities.”

Jian Chenyu chuckled. “Oh? What do you think?”

“How would I know what you like?” Sang Shi’an retorted. “Besides, the elders in our family all want you to end up with my brother. I’m not going to waste my time guessing.”

Jian Chenyu straightened up, watching Sang Shi’an’s gaze dart away. She reached out and gently wiped the corner of Sang Shi’an’s eye. “Then I won’t guess.”

Sang Shi’an hadn’t expected Jian Chenyu to drop the subject so easily. She turned her head, her eyes wide. “Why are you acting like this?”

Jian Chenyu replied as if soothing a child, “Then how about I like you? That wouldn’t cause any conflict, right?”

Sang Shi’an scoffed, unimpressed. “I don’t care about that.”

“You asked me what I wanted for my birthday last time. I’ve finally decided.”

Jian Chenyu’s voice rose in an “Oh?” “So all this was just to ask for a gift? Well, what do you want?”

Sang Shi’an settled onto the sofa, crossing her legs and propping them on the coffee table. “Something unique, something only you can give me—something no one else could afford.”

Jian Chenyu chuckled, rubbing his forehead. “You’re really setting me a challenge.”

Sang Shi’an grinned, relaxed and confident like a little tyrant. “For example, you could put my name on your unpublished thesis.”

Jian Chenyu leaned down and flicked her forehead. “Could you handle the subsequent speeches and interviews?”

Sang Shi’an squinted. “You could just write the drafts for me beforehand. Aren’t those events always prepared in advance?”

Then, barely suppressing a laugh, she recited the first paragraph of Jian Chenyu’s recently published thesis in English.

After she finished, Jian Chenyu sat beside her, dutifully praising, “An’an, you’re amazing! I’ll try my best to write another one for you in the next two weeks.”

“I don’t want a thesis! You’re not allowed to skimp on anything. It’s my birthday—I’m going to extort you properly!” Sang Shi’an, having had her fun, turned to face Jian Chenyu. Their gazes met in mid-air, the faint scent of their matching bath fragrances lingering between them.

“Did you hear me?” Sang Shi’an asked softly.

The dryer hummed diligently, metal buttons clanging against the inner wall. Jian Chenyu slowly straightened up. Amidst the long-awaited rain finally falling outside the window, he nodded, more like a promise than an agreement. “Okay.”