After the Top Idol Omega and I Started Living Together - Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The camphor tree outside the window swayed messily in the wind, its lush leaves scraping against Lu Zhao’s window.

Thunder roared in Lu Zhao’s ears, the heavy, massive sound threatening to split the world in two.

Lu Zhao couldn’t believe her ears, or perhaps she refused to accept the truth.

She looked at Chenchen beside her, stammering as she asked, “You, you said, said what… what does it mean, pinned down!”

Chenchen watched Lu Zhao’s reaction, clearly surprised. “Ah Zhao, you really don’t remember?”

Always eager to help, she began recalling what happened earlier for Lu Zhao. “It was in the bathroom. You pinned Miss Sheng to the floor, and your hand was on her waist.”

“Then I came in, and you snapped at me, looking like you’d eat me alive for ruining your moment. Honestly, my gosh, so fierce! I was almost scared to death. No wonder you’re an S-class Alpha—such strong territorial instincts.”

“And when I got closer, you hid Miss Sheng behind you, so tightly, as if you were afraid I’d see her.”

Chenchen described it vividly, even standing up to reenact Lu Zhao’s actions for her.

Lu Zhao stared at the scene, her memories from the dream slowly awakening.

She remembered struggling to close the door, but someone pushed it open from the outside.

The noon sun shone blindingly, the outside world seeming like another realm, and Sheng Jingyu stood there.

She seemed to love wearing spaghetti-strap dresses, the thin straps slipping over her shoulders, naturally revealing her skin. Her collarbone peeked through her loose hair, winding upward to her neck, where her gland hid.

The scent of grapes wafted through her memory, delicate vines faintly tugging at Lu Zhao’s nerves.

The aftertaste held a slight bitterness, like wine painstakingly pressed after years, just a single drop on the tongue, lingering endlessly…

“I’m saying, Ah Zhao, you don’t actually have a thing for your teacher, do you…”

As Lu Zhao thought this, Chenchen’s voice rang out, both ill-timed and perfectly timed.

Feeling like a thief caught red-handed, Lu Zhao denied it fiercely. “No!”

She tried hard to dispel the scent from her memory, emphasizing to Chenchen and herself, “Miss Sheng is my teacher. I respect her deeply! If I ever had the slightest improper thought about her, may lightning strike me dead!”

Chenchen pursed her lips at this and muttered softly, “You’d better mean it.”

Lu Zhao didn’t catch it. “What did you say?”

Chenchen, guilty, quickly changed the subject. “I mean… did you tell Chen Idiot about finding a vocal teacher? He called me at noon, asking where you found her.”

Lu Zhao’s face darkened at the mention. “I went to visit Grandma’s grave today and ran into Si Liaoliao and her family of three.”

Chenchen, somewhat aware of Lu Zhao’s family situation, spat, “Such bad luck.”

“Pretty bad luck,” Lu Zhao nodded. “And she’s also joining ‘Hear Your Voice.’ I saw her trying to pull her old tricks, so I shut her down.”

“So that’s how it is,” Chenchen said, understanding, then grew nervous. “Ah Zhao, should we try to butter up Miss Sheng a bit? I’m worried…”

“If it’s about Si Liaoliao, she won’t,” Lu Zhao denied.

Her words were firm, certain that Sheng Jingyu wasn’t that kind of person.

But then she slumped, leaning against the headboard, dejected. “But now I’m the one who’s done something outrageous.”

“Why not go apologize to Miss Sheng?” Chenchen suggested. “I feel like, though she’s a bit cold, she’s not unreasonable, and…”

Chenchen glanced at Lu Zhao.

Her look was odd, making Lu Zhao uncomfortable. “And what?”

Chenchen said seriously, “And Miss Sheng looks at you differently than she looks at me. She seems to value you.”

Lu Zhao froze at her words.

Then she reached out and tapped Chenchen’s head. “You’re dreaming again?”

“I’m not!” Chenchen rubbed her head, protesting. “Do you know, after you passed out, you kept holding Miss Sheng’s hand? She stayed by your side as long as you held on. It was only half an hour before you woke up that she left for her room.”

Lu Zhao was stunned for a moment.

Suddenly, she recalled the vineyard in her dream, the shelter that embraced her as she fled a broken world.

She always thought it was just a dream’s illusion, not realizing the illusion grew from something real.

The lush vineyard was filled with vibrant grapes, and Sheng Jingyu’s pheromones carried the scent of grapes.

For some reason, Lu Zhao’s heart tightened, as if something hid densely within it.

But then she denied Chenchen’s words. “Nonsense! Miss Sheng is my teacher. It’s normal for a teacher to care about her student.”

She didn’t dwell on it, nor let herself, looking at Chenchen with far more seriousness than before. “Don’t say such things again. That’s my future.”

Hearing this, Chenchen seemed reminded.

She knew how much Lu Zhao longed for a bigger stage and nodded repeatedly. “I got it.”

“Oh,” Lu Zhao paused, remembering something, and asked Chenchen, “Didn’t you just say Miss Sheng went back to her room? Has she not eaten yet?”

“Yeah,” Chenchen nodded.

Lu Zhao had an idea. “How about we make an apology feast at home later? I need to give my teacher an explanation.”

“Great!” Chenchen agreed, her mind bubbling with hotpot ideas. “Let’s have hotpot. Nothing’s livelier than steaming hotpot.”

Lu Zhao didn’t agree, calmly dousing Chenchen’s enthusiasm. “This house strictly forbids spicy food. You want clear broth hotpot?”

That flavor, just thinking about it, was no fun.

Chenchen grimaced, shaking her head at the thought.

“Cantonese cuisine then,” Lu Zhao decided. “It’s lighter. I think Teacher would like it.”

Chenchen, always sharp in odd ways, heard this and said in clumsy Cantonese, “Good, Miss Lu.”

Lu Zhao couldn’t help but laugh, teasing, “What’s with that half-baked Cantonese? Watching too many dramas again?”

The two laughed and chatted, and the mansion, cloaked in drizzling rain, finally gained some lively warmth.

Chenchen moved quickly, and the Cantonese restaurant’s chef soon delivered the meal. Under Chenchen’s motherly nagging, Lu Zhao walked to Sheng Jingyu’s door.

“Knock knock.”

Organizing her words, Lu Zhao tapped on Sheng Jingyu’s door.

The corridor was silent, and after a moment, a mechanical female voice said, “Come in.”

Lu Zhao carefully pushed open Sheng Jingyu’s door, peeking in halfway. “Teacher, are you busy?”

Sheng Jingyu didn’t answer directly, gesturing, “Something up?”

Lu Zhao stepped inside, nervously clasping her hands. “About noon, I’m really sorry. I ordered Cantonese food for dinner, some nourishing dishes. Would Teacher like to join us?”

Interpersonal interactions were always Sheng Jingyu’s least favorite thing. She could easily see through everyone’s motives. With that opening, she knew the dinner was an apology.

Sheng Jingyu wanted to refuse.

She didn’t blame Lu Zhao, so she didn’t need her apology.

But as she raised her hand to decline, she paused.

The person before her looked uneasy, seemingly worried about whether she was upset or held a grudge over noon’s events.

“You keep your emotions hidden, making everyone guess. Sometimes I’m so scared of you, not knowing if I’ve offended or pleased you.”

Zhou Huanyin’s words suddenly echoed in Sheng Jingyu’s ears.

She realized if she didn’t show it, this person might not understand.

Sheng Jingyu pursed her lips, her agreement coming flatly. “Okay.”

Two shadows fell side by side in the corridor as Sheng Jingyu and Lu Zhao left together.

The rain outside continued drizzling, tapping the glass, adding to the quiet between them.

Sheng Jingyu broke the silence, silently asking, “Have you ever sung Cantonese songs?”

Perhaps the Cantonese cuisine had sparked the thought.

Lu Zhao nodded, answering honestly, “I’ve sung some. Since Jingyun has both Mandarin and Cantonese versions of many songs, I’ve learned a bit.”

“Want to sing one for the audition?” Sheng Jingyu asked next.

Lu Zhao’s heart stirred, but she hesitated. “My Cantonese pronunciation isn’t standard. It sounds bad, like mush when I sing. I’m not confident.”

Sheng Jingyu only said, “Your voice suits it. You can try.”

The idea wasn’t a whim. She had thought of it during the morning’s planning.

Though she had only heard Lu Zhao sing briefly these past days, Sheng Jingyu remembered her voice.

It was as if life had been woven into it, reviving her long-dormant mind.

Sheng Jingyu was genuinely curious about how Lu Zhao would sound singing her songs.

Seeing Sheng Jingyu’s affirmation, Lu Zhao’s hesitation steadied, and she gripped her modest confidence. “Since Teacher says so, I’ll pick a song to prepare.”

Sheng Jingyu nodded. “Tell me after you choose. I’ll adjust the teaching plan based on your song.”

It had been a long time since Lu Zhao heard such words, and her attitude was earnest. “Okay, I’ll do it quickly.”

Sheng Jingyu lowered her gaze, as if nodding. “Do it quickly. You’ve already wasted an afternoon.”

It also seemed like displeasure.

Lu Zhao fell silent.

Though Sheng Jingyu accepted the dinner invitation, Lu Zhao couldn’t tell if she was still upset about the afternoon.

Gestured sentences lacked sound, and without tone, everything was as faint and fleeting as Sheng Jingyu herself, like smoke.

The corridor’s dim light fell between them, sketching Sheng Jingyu’s calm, cold features in a few strokes.

Perhaps it was her naturally pale eyes, always calm, revealing no emotion from any angle.

She seemed as if she didn’t belong to this world.

Yet she lived in it.

All relationships seemed to start this cautiously, even for a confident, proud Alpha like Lu Zhao.

She didn’t know what Sheng Jingyu had gone through to become so detached from the world.

Having been abandoned by many, she didn’t want her unconscious outburst to make the teacher she had finally gained reject her.

“Sorry, Teacher. I’ll be more careful before my susceptible period in the future.”

“I’ve already asked Chenchen to buy inhibitors. We’ll keep them everywhere in the house to prevent this from happening again and not delay any future lessons.”

The sea lost its usual sharpness, swaying in the wind.

Sheng Jingyu gazed at the window, constantly washed by rain, feeling the complex emotions from this young person again.

Her steps slowed, and she took out her phone, turning to Lu Zhao.

“No big deal.”

The mechanical female voice from the phone lacked emotion but carried a playful chiding reserved for close connections.

Her gaze lingered, her gray-silver eyes as calm as ever, yet mixed with a hint of无奈 that wasn’t negative.

“No one’s blaming you.”

Whale: Sister doesn’t understand love, but Sister cares for you.

(Whale glares at her lines, smacking a certain pigeon with her tail.)