After the Top Idol Omega and I Started Living Together - Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The suddenly shortened distance left Sheng Jingyu completely unprepared. The corridor’s lights retreated frame by frame in her vision like an old movie.

The sea breeze rose abruptly but carried no aggression. The scent swirled with the wind, and the taste of peeled lychee slid across her throat.

Sheng Jingyu’s pupils widened slightly. At the center of her vision was the face she nearly collided with.

Her legs were off the ground.

Lu Zhao lifted Sheng Jingyu up, her warm palm pressing against Sheng Jingyu’s waist.

Sheng Jingyu hung in the air but felt no instability or weightlessness.

Was this the strength of an Alpha?

With just a pair of arms, Lu Zhao held her steadily, even lifting her briefly.

The event happened suddenly. Sheng Jingyu instinctively reached out and wrapped her arms around Lu Zhao’s neck.

The source of the scent intertwined with Lu Zhao’s hair, curling around Sheng Jingyu’s fingertips.

The surroundings were silent, so quiet she clearly heard the sound of a heartbeat.

She didn’t know if the intimate contact or the pheromones stirring the calm caused it, but Sheng Jingyu’s heartbeat lost its rhythm.

She leaned into this Alpha’s embrace, unable to free her hands, unsure of how to react.

The background blurred and swayed. The light from above sprinkled fully into Sheng Jingyu’s vision.

It illuminated the person in her eyes, whose features were clear and strikingly heroic.

Sheng Jingyu suddenly understood why moths yearned for sunlight.

“Ahem.”

At that moment, two deliberate coughs broke the quiet corridor.

Chenchen saw herself being treated like air by Lu Zhao and the others. She couldn’t stand it anymore.

Lu Zhao, hearing the sound, immediately realized how carried away her actions were. She carefully set Sheng Jingyu down and said, “Sorry, Teacher, I was too excited.”

Sheng Jingyu’s heels touched the floor tiles again. She released her hold on Lu Zhao’s neck.

She stood calmly, her gaze toward Lu Zhao steady and restrained. She said, “It’s fine.”

Excitement was the hardest to suppress. Lu Zhao looked at Sheng Jingyu and eagerly shared, “Three mentors chose me! Teacher, did you see?”

Sheng Jingyu sat in the audience. How could she not see? She replied, “I saw.”

“It’s like a dream!” Lu Zhao said, feeling this way ever since she left the stage.

But Sheng Jingyu was different.

She didn’t fear Lu Zhao would become arrogant. She willingly favored her, affirming seriously, “You performed steadily, the live sound was good, and being chosen by three mentors was deserved.”

Lu Zhao had been praised before, but none made her as joyful as this moment.

A rare shy smile appeared on her face, mixed with a playful charm. She said familiarly, “Thanks to Teacher.”

Lu Zhao wasn’t stingy.

She willingly split her success in half, treating it as a shared honor with Sheng Jingyu.

“Everyone contributed, everyone contributed,” Chenchen chimed in aptly, stepping between them. She poked her head forward and suggested, “Since that’s the case, shouldn’t we celebrate with a big meal tonight?”

Lu Zhao nodded with a smile and said, “Yes.”

Perhaps because she sat with Sheng Jingyu watching Lu Zhao perform, Chenchen grew bolder around Sheng Jingyu.

She knew Lu Zhao like the back of her hand, aware that Lu Zhao celebrated with hotpot. Eagerly, she asked Sheng Jingyu on Lu Zhao’s behalf, “Can we make an exception and have hotpot tonight?”

A hopeful gaze shone in Chenchen’s eyes, and another came from behind her.

Sheng Jingyu glanced over Chenchen at Lu Zhao, who looked at her. She smiled quietly and nodded, “Yes.”

White mist settled before the window, the moonlight hazy.

Steaming heat filled the restaurant. People’s love for hotpot far surpassed the endless summer warmth.

As the spicy broth began to simmer, Chenchen eagerly held her plate, tossing meat into the mandarin duck pot. She gossiped with Lu Zhao about recent news, “Ah Zhao, did you know Si Liaoliao’s livestream crashed?”

Without Chenchen’s mention, Lu Zhao nearly forgot she ran into Si Liaoliao before performing.

Surprised, she repeated, “Crashed?”

“Yes,” Chenchen nodded. “I don’t know if she lost her mind, but she showed your audition during her livestream. You know the result. You sang so well, and many of her viewers switched sides.”

Chenchen spread her hands innocently, her voice tinged with schadenfreude.

Lu Zhao couldn’t help but laugh at such a thing. Like Chenchen, she couldn’t fathom Si Liaoliao’s logic. “Is her brain foggy? Last time in the studio, we already embarrassed her. Why doesn’t she learn?”

But speaking to this point, Lu Zhao suddenly grew serious. She speculated, “Or did she assume I’d sing poorly? That I’d cause another disaster?”

Chenchen froze at her words, her heart skipping half a beat.

She thought repeatedly but felt nothing went wrong during Lu Zhao’s morning audition. She asked, “No way. Did you feel anything off during your performance?”

Lu Zhao recalled as well but found no trace of Si Liaoliao’s tampering. “No, the microphone was fine, the speakers were good, and the earpiece worked perfectly…”

Her memory faltered. Lu Zhao and Chenchen puzzled over it, trying to find evidence of Si Liaoliao’s interference.

The rising steam blurred the room’s view. No one noticed Sheng Jingyu sitting quietly aside, unhurriedly picking meat from the clear broth pot.

Unable to figure it out, Chenchen slumped her shoulders and concluded, “I think she’s just too arrogant, thinking you’re still the old you, unstable and bound to fail!”

“Is that so?” Lu Zhao wasn’t convinced by Chenchen’s explanation but couldn’t find a better reason.

“What else could it be?” Chenchen scooped meat slices, pulling the conversation back. “Forget her. I’m sharing good news!”

“Some fans who switched sides posted in the super topic this afternoon. Everyone’s excited for the official audition broadcast!”

Saying this, Chenchen excitedly took out her phone, showing Lu Zhao the super topic data boosted by Si Liaoliao’s livestream.

The once-quiet super topic buzzed with activity. Many fans shared clips from Si Liaoliao’s livestream, shouting across the topic.

Excitement and anticipation sparked like tiny flames.

Though it was small-scale self-hype, it carried rare positive energy. The unformatted posts looked raw yet sincere.

“Your popularity is unprecedented, even higher than your debut stage! It’s a great trend! When the audition airs, you’ll gain more fans!” Chenchen showed Lu Zhao, analyzing excitedly.

“Really?” Lu Zhao’s voice held hope mixed with past shadows.

She looked at the super topic discussions and smiled. “If that’s true, I’ll have to thank Si Liaoliao properly.”

The glass wine cup brushed past her lips, leaving a crystalline sheen.

Lu Zhao sipped wine before eating, her memories surfacing untimely.

Her debut stage in the talent show had a similar effect. Cheers poured from the audience of trainees.

But in the end, she was only edited into a dance with Si Liaoliao. Her solo song, praised by mentors, sank into the sea with the destroyed master tape.

Lu Zhao vaguely felt this time would differ from the past, yet past shadows loomed heavily.

She had only achieved a small success, glimpsing the light ahead, but hadn’t escaped the forest trapping her.

What if the fog surged again, trapping her in place once more?

The moon rose high, the feast nearly done.

Lu Zhao ate warmly, slightly drunk, and moved to the corridor to catch the breeze.

Alcohol seemed to clash in her head, stirring restless memories.

Her grudges with Si Liaoliao, her conflicts with her family.

The cold stares and unfair treatment she faced for years of stubborn persistence…

The unpleasant memories darkened. Lu Zhao squinted, her amber eyes clouded with drunkenness.

Suddenly, a flash of red entered her peripheral vision, like a sun slowly rising in the corner.

Lu Zhao paused, slowly refocusing her gaze.

The red was a glass of watermelon juice Sheng Jingyu brought her.

Sheng Jingyu said, “For sobering up.”

The moonlight, softer than sunlight, gently lit the dark sky.

Sheng Jingyu stood beside Lu Zhao, her long skirt swaying in the breeze, her loose hair falling lightly, like a fairy descending from the moon.

And surely a fairy in charge of green grapes.

Perhaps the alcohol fermented, but Lu Zhao thought this bluntly.

Unembarrassed by her thoughts, she took the watermelon juice from Sheng Jingyu and clarified, “I’m not drunk.”

“I promised Teacher I wouldn’t get drunk in this house. I’m just sitting here thinking.”

—This was Lu Zhao’s promise when Sheng Jingyu moved in.

Sheng Jingyu didn’t expect Lu Zhao to remember. She quietly tucked her skirt and sat beside her.

Last time it rained, Lu Zhao asked her. Now it was her turn to ask, “What are you thinking about?”

Lu Zhao lightly propped her chin, unsure if the words passed her brain. Half-joking, she said, “The past, of course. I can’t sit here lamenting the future. I’m someone chosen by three mentors.”

Lu Zhao sat with her knees hugged, small like a ball.

Sheng Jingyu looked at Lu Zhao’s teasing smile. Her gem-like amber eyes held fractured cracks.

It was heartbreaking.

Sheng Jingyu suddenly recalled Chen Annie’s message after sending her investigation files: [Ah Yu, this kid’s situation is quite complicated.]

Sheng Jingyu’s pupils narrowed slightly. The surname Lu was too unique.

In this city, only the Lu family of Seven Colors Entertainment, influential since the early last century, matched such a valuable old mansion.

Though new companies rose in the industry, rivaling and even weakening the Lu family.

A lean camel is bigger than a horse. The Lu family still held sway, easily able to support a child.

So why was Lu Zhao now obscure and financially strained, sharing a rental?

Sheng Jingyu silently deduced. Lu Zhao’s mood sank again.

She hugged her legs in a self-protective posture and urged, “Teacher, go back. You don’t belong here recalling the past with me.”

Sheng Jingyu didn’t understand. She asked, “Why?”

“My past is full of filth and mud. Teacher is like mountain snow, untainted by such matters,” Lu Zhao replied softly, her voice light yet deeply sincere.

She wore a loose camisole, sagging with her posture.

With no cover in front, her dark hair brushed her skin, like a half-peeled lychee, obscurely revealing fair fullness.

It was heartbreaking, yet it stirred an itch.

Suddenly, her throat warmed. The teeth against her tongue carried the sweet sea breeze of pheromones.

Sheng Jingyu stayed calm, restraining herself as she pressed her lips. She raised her hand and countered, “But that’s part of you, isn’t it?”

She didn’t leave; she sat even closer to Lu Zhao. “Speak. I’m listening.”

Sheng Jingyu knew she held the answers.

But she still wanted Lu Zhao to tell her herself.