After the Top Idol Omega and I Started Living Together - Chapter 21

Chapter 21

The continuous rain fell on the glass window, like a person’s subtle heartbeat.

Sheng Jingyu slightly glanced at Lu Zhao. The warm yellow light of the corridor fell on her upturned face, and her light-colored pupils were coated with a faint layer of gold, making her look less distant and cold than usual.

Lu Zhao looked somewhat lost in thought.

Those two consecutive sentences landed by her ear, and the unease hidden in her heart was greatly comforted.

Over the years, more and more people surrounded Lu Zhao, but no one ever told her “It’s okay” or “Don’t worry” when something happened.

Lu Zhao had to bear everything alone. Good things never came her way, but misunderstood actions were magnified, cursed, and criticized.

Yet, the person who seemed most distant from others told her today, regarding this matter caused by her, “No one is blaming you.”

She even took out her phone and used the Cantonese they just talked about to scold her for overthinking.

This person, though seemingly cold and aloof, was completely different from Si Liaoliao, who always claimed to be refined.

The evening breeze blew recklessly outside the window, and the rain falling straight down was blown close to the glass.

The light lay across Lu Zhao’s line of sight, dim and gentle, suddenly making her feel that the distant relationship between her and Sheng Jingyu seemed to shrink by an inch.

Although losing control during the susceptible period was indeed not a good thing.

But it seemed to have unintentionally changed something.

“What are you talking about? Your shadows have been standing here for a long time.”

As Lu Zhao thought this, a small head popped out from the corner of the staircase.

Chenchen didn’t know what had just happened here. She looked at the two standing face-to-face and smiled, “Dinner is ready. I have some things to do at home, so I won’t disturb you and will head back now.”

With that, Chenchen gave Lu Zhao a look.

Having something to do was an excuse; not disturbing Lu Zhao and Sheng Jingyu’s time together was the real reason.

For some reason, Chenchen’s look carried a trace of indescribable ambiguity, and a faint bad premonition arose in Lu Zhao’s heart.

As Chenchen said she would leave, she did so immediately. Lu Zhao turned the corner, and the restaurant scene not far away came into view.

The chandelier above the long table was deliberately dimmed, faintly echoing the candles lit on the table.

The ordered dishes were rearranged and served on white porcelain plates. Two dining seats faced each other, with decanted red wine placed beside them, and even fresh flowers with water droplets adorned the vase in the center of the table.

A slight breeze moved through the room, the candlelight flickered and danced, and an impending ambiguity shimmered in the golden light.

Lu Zhao’s brows twitched. She suddenly understood why Chenchen left in such a hurry and gave her that ambiguous look.

This wasn’t an apology with food.

This was practically sending her to Sheng Jingyu’s mouth as an apology with her own body!

Looking at the exaggerated setup in the restaurant, Lu Zhao feared Sheng Jingyu might misunderstand. She forced a relaxed tone to explain, “Look at this Chenchen. I only asked her to set it up simply, but she made it so exaggerated.”

Sheng Jingyu slightly lowered her brows. She was always good at reading people and knew clearly in her heart. She raised her hand and said, “She just wanted to apologize to me on your behalf.”

This understanding somewhat surprised Lu Zhao.

Perhaps the two sentences in the staircase gave Lu Zhao courage. She tilted her head and half-jokingly asked on Chenchen’s behalf, “Did this make Miss Sheng feel any better?”

Her curved eyes resembled two cashews, and the heroic air between her brows softened a bit of her Alpha vibe.

Sheng Jingyu noticed this person called her “Miss Sheng” again. She didn’t widen the distance between them and raised her hand to reply, “I was never in a bad mood to begin with.”

“I didn’t estimate well, underestimated your susceptible period, and overestimated my own endurance.”

Sheng Jingyu spoke calmly, like a summary after an event concluded.

But something like the susceptible period couldn’t be discussed openly. The more seriously it was analyzed, the more ambiguous it felt.

Lu Zhao lightly flicked her tongue, and her teeth grazed a hint of the sweet-bitter taste of grapes.

The taste wasn’t strong, like faint smoke or a tender grapevine just sprouting, weakly hooking in Lu Zhao’s throat, reminding her that she was the one who broke this person’s endurance.

The deeper her thoughts went, the more improper they became. Lu Zhao quickly interrupted her rebellious ideas.

She blamed the atmosphere Chenchen created for making her thoughts wander. She wanted to adjust the lights back to normal brightness, but then Sheng Jingyu pulled her skirt and sat in the seat across from her.

The candlelight flickered, casting Sheng Jingyu’s profile on the wall beside her, outlining a refined silhouette in a few strokes.

Her thick lashes cast a touch of the rain’s hue from outside, a rare coolness in the silvery summer.

After a pause, Lu Zhao selfishly suppressed the thought and changed the topic, saying, “Teacher, do you want to try this fish? I heard it’s delicious.”

“Okay,” Sheng Jingyu accepted Lu Zhao’s recommendation, picked up her chopsticks, and took a bite of the fish.

The meal Chenchen ordered was classic Cantonese cuisine. The fish melted in the mouth, fragrant but not overpowering.

It had indeed been a while since Sheng Jingyu ate such dishes. She nodded approvingly and said, “The fish is fresh.”

Lu Zhao felt a sense of accomplishment for pleasing Sheng Jingyu and smiled, saying, “Then Miss Sheng, eat more on behalf of someone like me who can’t enjoy it.”

Sheng Jingyu paused and asked, “Allergy?”

This wasn’t a secret for a celebrity. Lu Zhao’s fans all knew, and she didn’t hide it, “I’m allergic to fish, shrimp, and seafood. Eating them gives me rashes, and in severe cases, I’d end up in the hospital.”

“My mother is the same. It’s probably hereditary.”

Hearing Lu Zhao’s last sentence, Sheng Jingyu paused.

Two orbiting worlds quietly drew closer, faintly overlapping in some way.

Lu Zhao didn’t want to make the topic so heavy. She let out a “Hmph” and said nonchalantly, “Life, you know, not everything goes as you wish, right?”

“What do you think, Teacher Sheng?”

Compared to the silent pool in the wilderness, Lu Zhao’s voice carried a worldly openness.

There was no sun outside, but Sheng Jingyu felt light shining on her, making her feel alive.

She lowered her gaze slightly.

This child was stronger than her.

Since Sheng Jingyu couldn’t speak and gesturing would interrupt the meal, Lu Zhao considerately didn’t talk to her often.

The two chatted sporadically like this. The atmosphere should have been awkward, but perhaps because of the sound of rain outside, the meal went by smoothly.

Putting down her chopsticks, Sheng Jingyu said to Lu Zhao, “Thank you for the hospitality.”

“You’re welcome. As long as Teacher enjoyed it,” Lu Zhao said, stopping Sheng Jingyu from clearing the table. “I’ll handle it. Teacher, go rest.”

“Okay,” Sheng Jingyu nodded, placing only her used dishes in the dishwasher.

The sound of falling rain came continuously from outside, and a cool breeze passed through the restaurant early.

Sheng Jingyu had long wanted to go see the rain. She turned and walked to the small corridor leading from the living room to the backyard, sitting unhurriedly on the cool edge of the corridor.

The rain was like a curtain, and the wet leaves shone with deep green, blending into a freehand oil painting.

Amid the inky hues sat a touch of white. Her slender legs dangled by the corridor’s edge, the wooden brown contrasting sharply with her cool white skin.

Her white skirt draped over her, and her tall figure didn’t falter in the wind.

Such temperament wasn’t developed in a day or two. It was forged through years of culture and refinement, keeping her posture straight, her every move carrying a gentle, noble air, never bowing to anyone.

After clearing the table, Lu Zhao turned and saw this scene.

She knew she should control her curiosity, but she couldn’t help wondering about the story behind Sheng Jingyu.

Why did she lose her voice?

Why did she come to share a place with her?

Why did she seem like she could leave this world at any moment?

The wind grew stronger, and the swaying branches made her seem unsteady.

Sheng Jingyu slightly hunched her shoulders, and then a weight settled on them.

A just-right warmth landed on her cool shoulders. Before Sheng Jingyu looked up, Lu Zhao’s voice came, “Freeze dear.”

It wasn’t fluent, and the pronunciation was a bit clumsy.

Rarely, Sheng Jingyu smiled.

She pinched the blanket on her shoulder and raised her head to ask Lu Zhao, “Do you know what this phrase means?”

“Be careful not to catch a cold,” Lu Zhao said, sitting beside Sheng Jingyu.

Sheng Jingyu had worried Lu Zhao might not understand her earlier words but now felt relieved, “You know some Cantonese.”

“I learned it from watching TV dramas as a kid,” Lu Zhao told Sheng Jingyu. “Like ‘hello,’ ‘I like you,’ ‘crazy,’ and some curse words, I can say them all.”

Sheng Jingyu didn’t know why she wanted to chat with Lu Zhao. Perhaps the evening breeze felt comfortable. She raised her hand and said, “Then you’ve really watched a lot of dramas.”

“My grandma loved them. I remember during summer vacations, the TV at home always played various Hong Kong dramas,” Lu Zhao said proudly. “I grew up with her and grandpa, and I learned sign language from them too.”

Sheng Jingyu was a good listener. Hearing Lu Zhao say this, she looked at her earnestly.

Lu Zhao slightly raised her head, recalling the past under this moonlit night overlapping with countless memories, “My grandma was given the wrong medicine as a child. The illness was cured, but she couldn’t speak afterward.”

Such stories always carried a regrettable pang.

Sheng Jingyu paused, unsure how to respond, when Lu Zhao asked her, “What about Teacher?”

A flash of caution passed through Sheng Jingyu’s eyes.

She looked at Lu Zhao, who had turned the conversation toward her, thinking she was about to ask why she couldn’t speak.

Opening her heart just after hearing a story about someone she didn’t know.

That trade wasn’t worth it.

The worlds that had just touched let out a grating sound of retreat.

As Sheng Jingyu was about to withdraw into her own world, Lu Zhao continued, “Teacher probably knows a lot of Cantonese, right? Did you study it specifically?”

The retreat stopped abruptly.

Sheng Jingyu didn’t know if she overthought or if this person’s thoughts jumped, still remembering the reason for telling that story and picking it up again.

Lowering her gaze slightly, Sheng Jingyu answered calmly and restrainedly, “I spent a long time there as a child. Staying long enough, I naturally learned to speak it.”

Lu Zhao nodded, “I see.”

She suddenly remembered something and threw another topic at Sheng Jingyu, “I have a phrase I want to ask the teacher about.”

Not quite agreeing, Sheng Jingyu raised her hand and said, “Go ahead.”

“It’s this,” Lu Zhao opened her phone, pulled up a highly liked comment under her Weibo, and read haltingly, “‘If you’re free tonight, will you marry me?’ What does it mean? ‘Marry’ is such a strange term.”

Hearing this, Sheng Jingyu’s gaze paused.

Across from her was a pair of utterly innocent, clear eyes.

For some reason, after a brief pause, Sheng Jingyu still translated the Cantonese for Lu Zhao.

She raised her hand unhurriedly, gesturing slowly, “It means, ‘If you’re free tonight, will you marry me?’”

“Does Miss Lu know, ‘marry’ is to prevent people from peeking.”

The silent words fell one by one into Lu Zhao’s eyes, forming a cause-and-effect paragraph in her mind.

The night breeze grew warm. Lu Zhao calmly met Sheng Jingyu’s gaze, suddenly feeling her throat itch, the lingering grape taste falling from her teeth onto her tongue.

Certain Pigeon: So no more saying ‘pull the curtain,’ now it’s ‘marry.’

Little Dog: Shy shy

ps: Certain Pigeon’s Cantonese all comes from Baidu. If anything is used incorrectly, please leave a comment, and Certain Pigeon will definitely fix it!

pps: ‘Crazy’ was indeed inappropriate, and Certain Pigeon has already changed it.