After the Online Romance with the Campus Beauty Roommate Went Wrong - Chapter 45

Sang Shi’an was ultimately saved by Su Ningyue’s WeChat video call.

Worried about Sang Shi’an’s condition, Su Ningyue had called late at night, determined to keep her company through the night.

When Sang Shi’an answered the video call, her face was stiff and her eyes avoided the camera. If not for needing to get rid of Jian Chenyu, she wouldn’t have answered at all. She muttered, “I’m going to take a shower,” and tried to hang up.

“Wait a minute!” Su Ningyue called out. “Little Sangsang, did you sneak out to meet your lover tonight? Why is your face so red?”

Sang Shi’an walked to the wardrobe where her pajamas were stored, opened the door just enough to block some of the light, and said guiltily, “The heating is set too high.”

Su Ningyue narrowed her eyes, studying her suspiciously, then suddenly chuckled. “Too hot, huh? So hot your lips are cracked from dryness? Something’s definitely up, Little Sangsang.”

“I think I drank some fake wine tonight,” Sang Shi’an quickly retorted. “My mouth is dry. Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

Su Ningyue lay back on her bed, shaking her head with a mischievous grin. “Confession is good for the soul. Spill the beans, quick!”

Sang Shi’an glared at her. “Do I really need to spell it out when the bite mark is so obvious?”

With that, she hung up abruptly and even turned off her phone, as if trying to cover her tracks.

Sang Shi’an didn’t sleep a wink all night, tossing and turning as she replayed Jian Chenyu’s words and actions from the dressing room over and over in her mind. It felt like two tiny elves were arguing in her ears.

The angelic elf chirped excitedly, insisting that Jian Chenyu reciprocated her feelings and didn’t mind her online persona as Cat Cat. The demonic elf, baring its fangs and claws, snarled that Jian Chenyu merely saw her as a substitute for Cat Cat, which was why he was pushing her to understand and adapt so quickly.

The incessant bickering gave Sang Shi’an a splitting headache. Hours later, as the first rays of dawn painted the eastern sky, she drifted out of bed like a spirit drained of its vitality. After washing up and feeling somewhat more alert, she headed to the dressing room, determined to first deal with the mountain of clothes that had been weighing on her mind, and then properly analyze Jian Chenyu’s true intentions.

The clothes filled three large boxes. Sang Shi’an picked up one of them and carried it out of the bedroom, debating whether to toss it directly into the trash or donate it to a clothing drive.

“Up so early?” A voice called out as she passed through the living room.

Clutching the box, Sang Shi’an turned to find a pair of smiling eyes watching her from the sofa.

Jian Chenyu had just set down her iPad, the dense text disappearing from the screen. The soft morning light, hazy and warm, fell into her eyes like shattered stars.

Especially when those starlight eyes turned toward her, Sang Shi’an stopped in her tracks, her courage failing her. “Um, I was just organizing some things,” she stammered.

Jian Chenyu suddenly moved, walking toward her.

Sang Shi’an instinctively clutched the box tighter. Jian Chenyu stopped in front of her, her long, slender fingers sliding down Sang Shi’an’s hair until they reached the nape of her neck, where she applied a gentle pressure.

Enveloped in the cool, woody scent, everything began to blur again.

Jian Chenyu pressed her lips against Sang Shi’an’s, that familiar tingling sensation rising once more. Sang Shi’an trembled, the box of clothes slipping from her hands and falling to the floor.

“Hey… my clothes…”

Worried the contents might spill out, Sang Shi’an lowered her head to check, but Jian Chenyu’s firm fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face up for another kiss. Warm, wet lips pressed against hers.

Last night, Sang Shi’an had been too stunned by Jian Chenyu’s first kiss to react. This time, she finally remembered to resist, reaching up to push against Jian Chenyu’s shoulder. But just as she began to exert force, a soft sound escaped her lips.

“Good morning, An’an.”

The gentle voice carried a wave of warmth, like a breeze sweeping across the desert. Sang Shi’an’s mind short-circuited in that instant.

It felt like a natural morning kiss, as if they had woken up together.

Sang Shi’an almost suspected Jian Chenyu had been drinking fake alcohol all night to be this drunk.

But there wasn’t a trace of alcohol on Jian Chenyu. The strands of hair that brushed against her skin felt cool as dew, offering a brief respite from the heat that was building within her.

But the relief was fleeting.

As the kiss deepened, Sang Shi’an grew hotter and hotter.

The intoxicating scent of Jian Chenyu and the overwhelming heat made her dizzy. Her hands, still held captive, struggled to push away. “Jian Chenyu… mmm… you… let go!”

Jian Chenyu released her hands completely, then moved them to her waist, pulling her close and pinning her against him, making it impossible for her to push away.

Sang Shi’an, still drunk from the night before and having barely slept, felt as light as a ghost. She quickly lost all strength under the relentless kisses, as if surrendering completely.

She could only pray that Jian Chenyu would soon have his fill and revert to his usual detached, indifferent demeanor.

She shouldn’t have confessed to being Cat Cat last night, seduced by Jian Chenyu’s beauty as he undressed. She had provoked him first—what else could she do?

Just endure it, endure it, Sang Shi’an desperately told herself. The person she loved was right in front of her. Even if she had to play the role of a substitute for a while, it wouldn’t matter. The door was locked tight; no one would ever know.

Sensing Sang Shi’an’s softening, Jian Chenyu slowed his movements. His warm, wet tongue gently intertwined with hers, and the soft light filtering through her lashes cast a faint glow across her face, making the morning sun seem to paint a delicate sheen upon her skin.

When he finally pulled away, Sang Shi’an’s lips were soft, and her heart felt equally tender.

The string of insults she had been mentally rehearsing melted away completely.

Without a word, Sang Shi’an pushed Jian Chenyu aside and went to the nearby tea room to pour herself a glass of water.

Jian Chenyu followed, his gaze fixed on her. Sang Shi’an drank half the glass to quench her thirst, then forced herself to finish the rest because of Jian Chenyu’s presence.

She then realized he still hadn’t left.

Sang Shi’an: ?

Why did Jian Chenyu, who hadn’t stayed up all night, seem more like a ghost than she did?

Setting the glass on the table, Sang Shi’an slowly raised her eyes to meet his gaze.

Beneath Jian Chenyu’s delicate, pale features lay lips unusually red, a tiny strand of glistening saliva clinging to their surface.

Sang Shi’an’s hand tightened, the memory of being held in his arms, tossed and turned relentlessly, flashing vividly through her mind.

“Ahem…”

She bit her lip, finding this Jian Chenyu utterly unfamiliar. “Did you just wake up?” she asked.

Could he still be groggy from sleep?

As if reading her thoughts, Jian Chenyu replied, “I’m always perfectly clear-headed in the morning.”

Sang Shi’an froze for several seconds, her brilliant mind—the one that had earned her admission to Yanjing University—suddenly short-circuiting. “Then…”

Her pause stretched too long. Jian Chenyu took two steps toward her, and Sang Shi’an hastily raised her hand. “Don’t come any closer! I have something to say.”

She gauged the distance between them with her eyes, ensuring he couldn’t reach out and kiss her. Then, she emphasized firmly, “Just say it from there.”

Jian Chenyu stopped, his gaze steady and calm. “What do you want to say?”

Sang Shi’an: “I thought what happened last night was just a momentary impulse. But why would you do something like that to me again this morning?”

Jian Chenyu: “So it’s okay if it’s not morning?”

Sang Shi’an: …

Jian Chenyu had always been reasonable, and even underage children knew better than to kiss people without permission. Sang Shi’an suspected Jian Chenyu was deliberately playing dumb.

So she confronted him directly: “It’s not just about it being morning. You shouldn’t be kissing me at all. You owe me an apology.”

Jian Chenyu’s gaze remained fixed on Sang Shi’an, his furrowed brow suggesting he didn’t quite grasp her words. Yet, under her unwavering stare, he obediently said, “I’m sorry.”

Sang Shi’an waited for more, but after a moment, she asked, “That’s it?”

“What else do you want to hear?” Jian Chenyu replied.

“Obviously, a promise that you won’t ever pull this kind of stunt again!” Sang Shi’an snapped.

Silence stretched between them. After a long pause, Jian Chenyu chuckled softly. “An’an, I don’t think I ever agreed to our breakup.”

What do you mean you didn’t agree?

Was Jian Chenyu really confusing her with Cat Cat?

Sang Shi’an tensed, ready to unleash a torrent of anger, when her vision suddenly darkened from exhaustion and overwhelming emotion.

Noticing Sang Shi’an’s sudden blank stare and pale complexion, Jian Chenyu rushed over, helped her sit down, and asked, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

Her vision returned, and Sang Shi’an managed a weak “Mm-hmm.”

Jian Chenyu stood up and walked outside, returning with a thick down jacket, which she tried to put on Sang Shi’an.

Sang Shi’an pushed the jacket away. “What are you doing?”

“Put this on,” Jian Chenyu said. “I’m taking you to the nearby hospital to get checked out.”

“I’m not going,” Sang Shi’an refused flatly. “I just didn’t sleep last night and my bl00d sugar’s a bit low. I’ll be fine after resting.”

“Then how do you have the energy to get up and start tidying things?” Jian Chenyu asked, her voice tinged with severity, yet also restrained, not overly harsh.

“Those clothes were annoying me. Can’t I just throw them away?” Sang Shi’an mumbled, turning her head away guiltily and leaving Jian Chenyu with only the back of her head.

Jian Chenyu’s grip tightened on the jacket. After a moment’s hesitation, she retrieved a bottle of glucose and fed it to Sang Shi’an before rummaging through the refrigerator for ingredients.

Sang Shi’an was actually feeling less weak by now, but seeing Jian Chenyu’s frantic movements, she found it oddly amusing. She propped herself up on one hand and watched Jian Chenyu bustle around.

A cup of warm water was placed on the table. The warm liquid soothed her weakened stomach, and a comforting warmth spread through her body.

The tea room connected to the kitchen. Sang Shi’an gazed at Jian Chenyu’s back and tentatively called out, “Jian Chenyu.”

Jian Chenyu stopped abruptly and strode back, his gaze fixed on Sang Shi’an’s face. “What’s wrong? Are you still dizzy?” he asked anxiously.

Seeing the undisguised worry on Jian Chenyu’s face, Sang Shi’an’s heart fluttered slightly. She deliberately lied, “A little.”

Jian Chenyu frowned. “Home glucose isn’t as effective as the hospital’s. We should go there.”

“No, I’m just hungry.” Sang Shi’an dodged Jian Chenyu’s hand, moving with surprising agility for someone with hypoglycemia. She cleared her throat and asked, “What were you doing in the kitchen?”

Jian Chenyu lowered his gaze to meet hers, answering promptly, “We’re out of bread, but Auntie bought fresh ingredients yesterday. How about I make you some noodles?”

“If they taste bad, I won’t eat them.” Sang Shi’an tilted her head back, lifting her chin with a haughty air, her attitude bordering on arrogant.

Jian Chenyu couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching out to playfully scratch her chin.

Sang Shi’an bristled instantly. “Keep your hands to yourself! Just make the noodles. I have something to discuss with you later—about us not being a couple. Don’t try to weasel out of it again.”

Jian Chenyu’s eyebrows slowly arched. He was about to speak when Sang Shi’an cut him off again, her tone imperious: “I have hypoglycemia! You’re not allowed to bully a patient!”