After the Top Idol Omega and I Started Living Together - Chapter 42

Chapter 42

The incident happened too quickly, and Lu Zhao did not even react in time.

Her back hit the ground painfully, but her subconscious still made her raise her hand to steady Sheng Jingyu, who fell into her arms.

The sea breeze blew, and the coconut tree leaves made a rustling sound. Lu Zhao felt a faint thud of vibration near her feet.

Her brain remained in a dazed state, and then she felt Sheng Jingyu’s hand, which had just gripped her arm, suddenly tighten.

It was a purely instinctive reflex, far more painful than when Lu Zhao hit the ground.

This pain also pulled her brain back to reality.

The thing causing the vibration under her feet seemed to be nothing other than a huge coconut leaf.

The leaf’s stem had long, narrow leaves densely arranged on both sides, resembling a fox’s tail but far more aggressive than a fox’s tail.

At that moment, Sheng Jingyu stood with her back to this fox-tailed coconut leaf.

The sunlight fell on her slender back, each ray emphasizing her fragility.

Lu Zhao’s mind buzzed instantly, and she looked at Sheng Jingyu in panic, saying, “Teacher…”

The sudden pain left Sheng Jingyu no chance to hide it, and her calm brows furrowed into layers of small hills.

This was an expression Lu Zhao had never seen on that pale face, where cold sweat hung, and every eyelash trembled.

Lu Zhao instantly felt her heart being wrenched.

Sheng Jingyu also noticed her expression and forced herself to raise her hand, gesturing, “I’m fine.”

The silent words were too simple to convey emotion, but the gesturing hand trembled.

The usually swift gestures took nearly twice as long, so how could she be fine?

Lu Zhao had not felt this way in a long time, and every word from Sheng Jingyu seemed to cut into her heart.

It hurt terribly.

“Teacher, don’t speak now. I’ll take you back,” Lu Zhao interrupted Sheng Jingyu’s attempt to act fine and quickly supported her, letting her lean onto her back.

Lu Zhao did not expect that her years of training would prove useful today.

She did not even need to crouch for Sheng Jingyu to climb on; she easily lifted her onto her back by holding her legs with both hands.

Yet, Lu Zhao’s movement to carry Sheng Jingyu was careful, and her hands on Sheng Jingyu’s legs measured every ounce of strength.

Sometimes, bulging veins did not only show effort but also careful protection of something.

The pain felt like awakening nerves, growing clearer on Sheng Jingyu’s back.

She felt her back burn with pain, and her always straight neck finally drooped, resting on Lu Zhao’s shoulder.

The sunset cast two shadows on the beach, and the waves pushed the breeze in layers.

Her tied-up long hair offered no cover for her neck, and Sheng Jingyu’s nose brushed against the edge of Lu Zhao’s suppressant patch.

Sheng Jingyu could not tell if the scent in her nose was truly the sea breeze or Lu Zhao’s pheromone.

Lu Zhao carried Sheng Jingyu, fully focused on hurrying forward, her bare feet pressing into the beach, making pleasant sounds with each step.

Meanwhile, Sheng Jingyu secretly and greedily inhaled the scent carried by the breeze into her nose, overpowering the pain from her back.

But fate seemed never to favor Sheng Jingyu, refusing to let her cheat by drawing in this scent.

Before Lu Zhao carried her back to the villa, they encountered the island’s patrol team on the way.

At first, everyone only noticed Lu Zhao’s anxious expression, but then they saw she was carrying Sheng Jingyu on her back.

“Miss!”

“What happened, Miss!”

“What’s wrong with Miss!”

“Oh no, oh no, call Doctor Han quickly!”

Everyone panicked, and they quickly escorted Lu Zhao, their communication devices never leaving their mouths.

It was Lu Zhao’s first time experiencing such a scene. She had just carried Sheng Jingyu to the villa when doctors and nurses were already assembled.

Led by the doctor and assisted by the butler, everyone surrounded Sheng Jingyu and placed her on a stretcher.

Their movements were exceptionally swift, carrying her upstairs, while Lu Zhao stood aside, unable to lend a hand.

Even so, she quickly followed toward Sheng Jingyu’s room.

The originally spacious room suddenly filled with people, and Lu Zhao stood outside, her view suddenly stretched far away.

It was like a deep-focus shot in a movie.

Voices calling Sheng Jingyu “Miss” and carefully asking about her feelings and injuries filled the scene, making the original protagonist’s perspective feel like an outsider.

This place was Sheng Jingyu’s villa, a gift from her family.

She must have been a beloved child at home, receiving such an expensive gift, which explained why so many people rushed in, their concerned and tense voices genuinely heartfelt.

Unlike herself.

Everyone loved her.

Lu Zhao’s gaze gradually lowered, her amber eyes filled with obscurity.

She felt full of self-blame, and her foot, which had just crossed the threshold, quietly retreated, as if she were looking at another world, leaning against the wall opposite the door.

Though the initial commotion was grand, Sheng Jingyu’s injury was not severe.

The fox-tail coconut leaves were far less massive than king coconut leaves. Though the falling force was significant, she had dodged in time, only getting scraped on her back, leaving some bruises and scratches.

Sheng Jingyu’s health was poor, so the doctor gave many specific instructions before leaving.

After the doctor left, the people crowded in the room also left reassured, one by one.

In the end, only the butler remained in the room, carefully helping Sheng Jingyu adjust her clothes, freshly applied with ointment.

Still shaken, the butler could not help but ask, “How did Miss get hit by a coconut leaf for Miss Lu?”

She found Sheng Jingyu’s action utterly unbelievable.

Everyone in the family knew Sheng Jingyu’s health was poor, and others always protected her, so how could she protect someone else?

Her back hurt, but Sheng Jingyu had been used to such pain since she was young. She endured bone-marrow extraction, so this was nothing.

Sheng Jingyu’s face had regained its usual calm, her downcast eyes showing no emotion, only gesturing, “I didn’t expect it either.”

The butler found the words ambiguous and asked, “What does Miss mean?”

—Did she not expect to be hit?

—Or did she not expect to rush to protect Lu Zhao?

The two held entirely different meanings.

If the former, it meant Sheng Jingyu quickly assessed the risk in that moment, her motive rational.

If the latter, it meant Sheng Jingyu acted without rationality, purely on instinctive reaction.

Either way, both were bad.

If reason could not control the subconscious, it would be even worse.

Sheng Jingyu did not expect the butler to ask such a question and slightly raised her eyes.

Her gray-silver eyes reflected the overhead light, the overexposed pale color making her eyes gleam coldly.

Seemingly displeased, Sheng Jingyu countered, “You’re getting better at talking.”

The butler’s heart tightened, and she explained, “I’m just worried about you, Miss. Your health is already poor.”

“I know my limits,” Sheng Jingyu said faintly, cutting off the butler’s impending long lecture.

She looked up at the now-empty room and asked, “Where is she?”

This “she” naturally referred to Lu Zhao.

The butler wanted to say Lu Zhao had been following, but then recalled that with so many people earlier, Lu Zhao was overlooked and could not enter.

Not wanting to upset Sheng Jingyu, she changed her words, saying, “There were too many people earlier, so Miss Lu didn’t come in to disturb.”

Hearing this, Sheng Jingyu only glanced at the butler faintly and said, “This has nothing to do with her.”

Then she instructed, “Call her in.”

“Okay,” the butler nodded immediately and went out.

Light spilled from the opened door, and the long-closed door finally opened again in Lu Zhao’s view.

This time, it was not a cold face facing Lu Zhao. The butler smiled kindly at her standing outside and said, “Miss is fine. She was just thinking of you. Go in quickly.”

“Thank you.”

Somewhat eager, Lu Zhao nodded and pushed open the door that did not close on her.

But crossing the threshold, Lu Zhao felt uneasy again.

What right did she have to enter?

She played under that tree, causing her teacher to get injured protecting her.

The door had just closed, and before seeing Sheng Jingyu, Lu Zhao lowered her head in self-blame and said, “Sorry, Teacher. I shouldn’t have played in that place.”

Sheng Jingyu thought otherwise, tapping her phone, “This was unpredictable for both of us. If anyone is to blame, it’s the island’s management team for their negligence.”

The mechanical female voice lacked emotion but was filled with rational analysis.

The guilt in Lu Zhao’s heart eased slightly, and she suddenly raised her head.

Sheng Jingyu’s room was far larger than Lu Zhao’s, with a curved floor-to-ceiling window encompassing an entire stretch of the sea.

The sunset rested at the boundary of sea and sky, vast orange-red hues dyeing the sky and sea the same color.

It was unclear whether the sky fell into the sea or the sea surged into the sky, making the room beautiful like an oil painting.

Sheng Jingyu sat on the bed, her soft white nightgown softening her usual aloofness. Her once-tied-up long hair fell loosely, slightly curling like seaweed floating in water, thick and beautiful.

Lu Zhao did not know if Sheng Jingyu had concealed it, but she showed no obvious signs of illness now.

Sheng Jingyu then raised her hand and gestured to Lu Zhao, “Besides, it’s just a back scratch. It’s not a big deal.”

But Lu Zhao still remembered the moment Sheng Jingyu gripped her arm and asked, “Does it still hurt, Teacher?”

The young girl’s face still showed faint guilt, and Sheng Jingyu wanted to lie to her.

But with some inexplicable honesty, or perhaps helplessness, she said to Lu Zhao, “Saying it doesn’t hurt would be lying, but seeing you like this, I really want to lie to you.”

“Sorry, Teacher…” Lu Zhao still looked apologetic, easily swayed.

Listening, Sheng Jingyu let her gaze linger on Lu Zhao’s face a moment longer and said, “You don’t look like a top Alpha, the most Alpha in the group.”

Lu Zhao froze at these words.

When Sheng Jingyu first moved to the mansion, Lu Zhao had boasted to Chenchen, confidently claiming that it was uncertain who would dominate whom, only for Sheng Jingyu to overhear clearly.

Lu Zhao felt embarrassed, not expecting Sheng Jingyu to use those words to comfort her, and said shyly, “How do you still remember that, Teacher!”

Sheng Jingyu slightly curved her eyes, gesturing, “Because I have a good memory.”

At this, she seemed to recall something, paused briefly, and then commented to Lu Zhao, “Your memory isn’t good.”

Hearing this, Lu Zhao reflexively protested, “My memory is great, okay! I still remember what milk tea I drank with Chenchen this time last year!”

Her previously dejected head now rose proudly, and Lu Zhao, with some smugness, said to Sheng Jingyu, “I remember things very well, Teacher!”

“Really?” Sheng Jingyu gestured calmly.

The sunset fell on her face, tinting her pale eyes with color.

The gray-silver became vivid, like a precious gem dug from a mine, staring sharply and directly at the person before her.

“Have you really not forgotten anything?”