I Fell in Love With My Cold-Hearted, Flirtatious Roommate (GL) - Chapter 4

After returning, Rong Ting purchased some things from the nearby supermarket to ensure she had at least some ingredients if she wanted to cook in the next few days. Back in the rental house, she suddenly remembered that the assignment for a certain class hadn’t been written yet, and the deadline was fast approaching. She hurriedly plugged in her laptop to charge and started working.

However, when she opened the laptop, she found it couldn’t connect to the Wi-Fi. She suddenly remembered the most important thing she had forgotten to do: ask for the Wi-Fi password!

Ran Jiu hadn’t returned yet, and Rong Ting didn’t know if she was busy. After hesitating for a long time, she still sent a WeChat message: [What’s our home’s Wi-Fi password?]

It was already 8 o’clock in the evening. She guessed the other person was busy, but she thought they should have time to send a quick reply.

Immediately after, Ran Jiu’s WeChat profile picture jumped, and she sent a voice call request.

Rong Ting: “…” Was a one-sentence matter really that complicated?

She tapped to answer the call. The background noise on Ran Jiu’s end seemed a bit noisy, yet upon closer listening, it wasn’t the chaotic sound of a bar, just many people talking simultaneously.

Then, these noises suddenly seemed to be isolated. The background instantly quieted down, and Ran Jiu’s clear, cool voice was incredibly distinct: “Hello? Can you hear me?”

Rong Ting unconsciously leaned closer to the microphone, “Yes, I can.”

“I forgot the password too, but there’s a piece of paper. I’ll tell you where it is,” Ran Jiu paused, seemingly thinking: “First, go to the living room. Under the TV cabinet, there are two drawers. Pull open the one on the left. There’s a brown box inside.”

Rong Ting followed the instructions and found the drawer. There were very few things inside, so the brown box was extremely conspicuous. She took it out and opened it directly, but besides some receipts, she didn’t find the password. So she suspected it might be written on the back, and searched through it again, but still nothing.

She told Ran Jiu truthfully.

However, the other person’s tone was light and cheerful, “I knew it. Do you see the round ottoman in the living room? Lift the lid. There’s also a stack of receipts inside. The password might be written on the back of the receipts.”

“…” Rong Ting went to search again, but nothing. Afterward, she successively dug through several other places.

When she straightened up, she suddenly understood the meaning of this voice call.

Otherwise, she would have truly suspected Ran Jiu was playing a trick on her.

Finally, she found the thin piece of paper in the drawer of the shoe cabinet by the door. Rong Ting wiped a bead of sweat, held the paper, and went back to her room to connect to the Wi-Fi. Ran Jiu immediately hung up the voice call.

After sitting down, Rong Ting felt a faint sense of loss.

She even had a fleeting hope that the paper would be in Ran Jiu’s bedroom.

She wasn’t someone who pried into others’ privacy, but she inexplicably developed a lot of curiosity about her new roommate. She forcibly suppressed this curiosity, steadied herself, and began to write her paper.

After an unknown period, the sound of the door opening came from outside.

The other person’s movements were especially gentle. From the insertion of the key to the pull of the door, there was barely any noise. Then came the sound of shoes stepping onto the newspaper on the shoe cabinet, followed by the softest footsteps in the living room as she shuffled in slippers.

Rong Ting looked up at the clock and realized it was already 11:30 PM.

She rubbed her eyes, pulled open the door, and just caught sight of Ran Jiu’s tall, thin figure. She had just entered the bathroom, turned on the light, but hadn’t closed the door.

Rong Ting heard the sound of water running from the sink and subconsciously stopped typing, wanting to go out and ask her if she wanted to eat.

She walked to the bathroom door. Ran Jiu was leaning over, washing her face.

A cream-colored, high-necked fleece shirt was neatly tucked out of the collar. Denim jeans perfectly highlighted her slender, long legs in the warm yellow light. Her two bare feet were in the slippers. Her hair was down, soft and with a dull sheen, hanging over her shoulders due to her bending over.

Rong Ting then realized that Ran Jiu was too strikingly beautiful, a kind of lazy beauty that was not aggressive.

Ran Jiu hadn’t put on makeup when she went out. She was cupping water to wash her face, and as she wiped it, she suddenly spotted someone at the doorway. A slight crack appeared in her composed face, “Are you a cat? You walk without a sound.”

Rong Ting gently scratched her cheek, “Did you eat dinner tonight? I bought instant noodles; I can cook some.”

Later, the two of them sat facing each other, one on the sofa and one on the round stool, slurping instant noodles from their bowls.

The ingredients were simple: Rong Ting had added two poached eggs and a few leaves of green vegetables, and a few drops of sesame oil. Yet, Ran Jiu ate with great relish.

Ran Jiu ate gracefully, but her speed was fast. In between bites, she unusually spoke to her, “I used to eat instant noodles often. I ate them several times a week in high school. I’ve almost bought every flavor.”

She smiled, and a rare, mischievous sense of pride flashed in her eyes, “So whenever I decide to eat instant noodles, I first think about what flavor I want.”

Rong Ting responded occasionally, but mostly liked to observe her. Ran Jiu’s hand rested on the top of the chopsticks, a long distance from the tips, yet she used them very skillfully.

Rong Ting remembered that such a person lived far from home, and also the inn owner’s mention of her dropping out of university after her first year. She couldn’t help but make a guess: “That makes sense. It’s a rare chance to eat instant noodles, especially since your parents wouldn’t let you eat them often.”

Ran Jiu’s movement paused. Rong Ting noticed and was afraid that Ran Jiu had detected her interest in her and her attempt to pry for information, making her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Who knew, Ran Jiu simply continued eating her noodles, seemingly unconcerned: “They wouldn’t care about me.”

After eating, Ran Jiu voluntarily went to wash the pot. Rong Ting kept feeling that she had said the wrong thing, causing the atmosphere to become a little subdued. She returned to her room, opened her laptop, and continued writing her assignment.

After a long while, there were two muffled knocks on the door frame. Rong Ting turned her head. Ran Jiu was holding a bottle of alcohol with unrecognizable packaging. Only the liquid inside was visible; it was orange-yellow and had Japanese characters.

“Fruit wine, low alcohol content. Want to try some?”

Rong Ting readily agreed. Let alone fruit wine, she had consumed plenty of clear spirits and beer, so this level of alcohol was no problem for her. In her old dorm, Chen Saiyu was the only one who often bought Jiangxiaobai with her, but after the atmosphere turned sour, they stopped drinking together.

Ran Jiu grabbed two glasses and poured a cup for her, but she stood at the doorway and did not enter the room.

The wine was sweet and sour, very refreshing to drink. Rong Ting was about to invite her to sit down when she saw Ran Jiu’s gaze had somehow landed on her computer screen.

Logically, computer and phone screens are personal privacy, and one should automatically shift their gaze if they accidentally catch sight of them.

But Ran Jiu clearly lacked this awareness. After looking closely at the screensaver, she asked, “Do you like the Takarazuka Revue too?”

“Yes, I do,” Rong Ting replied. Her computer wallpaper was a photo of Asumi Rio in a performance. The actors were all wearing layered, pleated dresses, with heavy makeup, white faces, and high highlights. The picture wasn’t even very clear.

“Who do you like?”

Rong Ting answered quickly, “Asumi Rio and Yuzuka Rei.”

Ran Jiu nodded thoughtfully, a string of incomprehensible Japanese coming from her mouth. However, Rong Ting was very surprised, as the pronunciation seemed to be the names of the two people she had just mentioned.

Rong Ting: “Do you speak Japanese?”

She took a slow sip of the wine, “It’s for work; I only know a little.”

She said, “I prefer Amami [Yuki]. She was only in the troupe for a short time, so her classic works are relatively few. However, she still broke [Daimu] Mao’s record, and the Takarazuka Revue became famous partly because of her.”

Rong Ting was clearly not expecting to meet a fan of the niche troupe just by renting a room, so she chatted with her about many things, from the famous otokoyaku (male roles) to musumeyaku (female roles) of the Takarazuka Revue.

The farewell performance of Mari-chan [Amami Yuki’s nickname, perhaps a misidentification/misremembering, as Amami is known as Yu-chan, but maybe the user meant Asumi Rio, whose nickname is Mirio] still left her feeling a sense of regret. Rong Ting couldn’t help but sigh, “I feel like retiring this early is a pity. She still had many unfulfilled things.”

Ran Jiu looked up, “Sometimes, stepping away early is a good thing. Because the deeper the obsession, the harder it is to reach.”

When Rong Ting went to sleep at night, the surroundings were very quiet, infinitely better than wearing a full set of eye masks and earplugs in the dormitory.

She listened carefully to the room next door; there was almost no movement. She thought of Ran Jiu’s light amber-colored eyes, with multiple layers intertwining, carrying a shadowy quality despite showing no signs of dejection.

Someone suddenly sent her a message on WeChat. It was Chen Saiyu.

[Ting Ting, we need to discuss the layout now. Are you coming?]

No matter how ugly the situation was, she had to have a proper farewell. They were still in the same group, and Rong Ting had an inescapable obligation.

She quickly replied: [Going.]

On their first day of co-habitation, Rong Ting had stayed up late for her assignment and managed to exchange a few words with Ran Jiu. In the following days, however, they barely saw each other.

The reason was that her and Ran Jiu’s time at home always seemed to be offset, and Ran Jiu was also coming home later and later.

Ran Jiu was still asleep when Rong Ting left in the morning, and Ran Jiu only returned after Rong Ting had fallen asleep at night.

One afternoon, Rong Ting came home after class and surprisingly saw the person she hadn’t seen for days standing at the staircase landing.

Golden sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting mottled shadows on her face. She looked like an overexposed, distorted image, her clear, beautiful features almost dissolved by the light.

Rong Ting walked toward Ran Jiu. Just as she opened her mouth, Ran Jiu suddenly smiled at her, “Just go up when you get back. The sun is strong outside.” She said nothing more besides this.

Rong Ting, however, heard a sense of urgency. She silently nodded at her, passed her, and slowly walked into the stairwell.

Then, she suddenly heard a boy’s voice outside the stairwell. The voice sounded a bit familiar. She turned back and looked. It seemed to be the same boy who had thrown the ball at her on the sports field that day.

Ran Jiu’s voice was languid and cold, “Did you bring it?”

The boy replied that he did.

Rong Ting stood on the first few steps of the stairs, not seeing clearly.

But she saw Ran Jiu’s eyes slightly curve. Very naturally, she took a packaged, small document bag from his hand, holding it lightly between two fingers.

Their fragmented conversation drifted over.

“Are you still living here?”

“Yes.”

“Are you alone?”

“No.”

“Who else is there?”

This time, Ran Jiu’s voice paused slightly, seemingly pondering for a while, “Someone I’m renting with.”

Rong Ting’s mood inexplicably became low. Although she wanted to hear more, she knew this wasn’t right. She shook her head and walked up, but suddenly heard a faint burst of laughter from outside.

Ran Jiu must have heard something funny. She seemed unaware as she slightly tilted her head. Her slender neckline flashed white in the gap of the stairwell door, blindingly bright.

Rong Ting reached the fourth floor, took out her key, and opened the door. The house was completely silent. She returned to her bedroom and waited for a long time but didn’t hear the person come back.

She sat at her desk, looking out the window, only hearing the chirping of birds.

Ran Jiu had probably left with that person.