The Extravagant Alpha And The Cold Movie Queen’s Fake Act Became Real - Chapter 49

Chapter 49: Fingers slipped between the dripping-wet lips.

Ruan Siyi was instantly rendered speechless.

The window was left open, and icy water drifted in through the cracks, the chill washing away the chaotic thoughts in her mind. The mildew stains on the wall had turned the white surface a dull gray.

Seeing her silent, Fu Ru’an casually set down the book in her hand.

The heavy book landed back on the aged desk with a soft thud, stirring up a layer of dust that floated in the light like white particles.

“Where are you going?”

Startled by her movement, Ruan Siyi hastily grabbed the hem of her clothes, her slender fingers crumpling the fabric into wrinkles.

Fu Ru’an paused mid-step and turned to glance down at the hands clutching her clothes.

“I’m not leaving,” she said, her eyes tinged with helplessness as she fixed her gaze on Ruan Siyi’s faintly pink fingers and nails. “It’s almost noon—aren’t you hungry?”

Ruan Siyi let out a dazed, “Huh?”

Fu Ru’an nearly laughed at her bewildered expression.

Had Fu Yunxi gone to such lengths just to send this kind of negotiator?

So unreliable—wasn’t she worried Ruan Siyi might get lost on the way here?

Or did she think that just because of the bond they’d formed during tutoring sessions, Fu Ru’an would willingly agree to go back?

Her hand unhurriedly covered Ruan Siyi’s, applying slight pressure as she began prying her fingers loose one by one.

But just as she managed to loosen three fingers, Ruan Siyi suddenly recoiled as if electrocuted, yanking her entire hand back.

Fu Ru’an’s hand carried the cold of the south, smooth and jade-like, with bones and veins visible beneath pale skin, forming elegant straight lines, the joints sharp angles.

Yet when those icy fingers touched her, Ruan Siyi couldn’t help but break out in goosebumps, her scalp tingling.

“Such a big reaction?” Fu Ru’an raised an eyebrow at her alarmed expression. “Do you dislike me?”

“I…” Ruan Siyi’s heart trembled slightly. “I didn’t.”

She didn’t know why. At school, it was common for her and her girlfriends to hold hands or link arms as they walked to the restroom or the cafeteria. But with Fu Ru’an…

Even the most natural touch would leave her inexplicably breathless and flustered.

Ruan Siyi only hazily felt that Fu Ru’an was different from everyone else.

Was it because she seemed particularly noble?

It was like when she passed by those expensive, delicate porcelain pieces in the mall—she’d tiptoe past the shelves in terror, afraid she might accidentally break something she could never afford to repay even if she sold herself.

Fu Ru’an waited for a while but didn’t get any explanation. So she simply pretended not to care and let out an “Oh” from her throat before changing the subject.

“What do you want for lunch?”

Ruan Siyi’s mind blanked for a second: “Huh?”

“I’m asking what you want for lunch,” Fu Ru’an repeated patiently. “Cabbage, bok choy, radish, potatoes—that’s all we have at home. You can pick two.”

If they were eating together, then two dishes would be enough.

Hmm… and maybe cook a whole pot of rice.

That should do it, right?

Before Ruan Siyi could answer, Fu Ru’an had already started thinking aloud: “You’re still growing. I’ll go to the supermarket in the afternoon and buy some meat.”

Ruan Siyi was already in her second year of high school. She was tall, but too thin—almost skin and bones.

She needed to put on a little more weight to endure the brutal schedule and hellish intensity of senior year, which would hit like a blizzard.

Ruan Siyi quickly followed her, trailing her into the kitchen.

The rented apartment was so small that even the kitchen was cramped, instantly shrinking the space between them.

In that confined area, Fu Ru’an’s breathing seemed to land right beside Ruan Siyi’s ear, each exhale crisp and clear.

“Sister Fu, let me help you chop the vegetables.”

Under Fu Ru’an’s gaze, Ruan Siyi grew increasingly uneasy. She hastily turned to grab the knife hanging on the wall, ready to bring it down on the pitiful white radish lying on the cutting board.

“Hey—” Fu Ru’an saw her movement and hurriedly tried to stop her. “That radish hasn’t been washed yet.”

Of course, the more flustered someone is, the more mistakes they make—especially someone like Ruan Siyi.

The next second, before Fu Ru’an could intervene, she saw Ruan Siyi pause mid-motion, the knife in her hand veering off course—

Indeed, the blade no longer landed on the white radish. Instead, it abruptly changed direction, grazing straight past the edge of her finger.

A bright red streak of bl00d immediately welled up from the cut.

Fu Ru’an: “……”

Really… such a fool, Ruan Ruan.

She quickly grasped the injured finger of Ruan Siyi, leaning down slightly to squint and examine it.

Fortunately, the wound wasn’t too deep—only a shallow scrape across the skin. Yet, even for such a minor injury, crimson beads of bl00d seeped out one after another, stark against her fair fingers.

The moment Fu Ru’an’s hand closed around hers, Ruan Siyi instinctively tensed up. She had expected the touch to amplify the pain, but strangely, the faint stinging sensation seemed to fade instead.

Or, to put it more accurately, it wasn’t that the pain had truly disappeared—it had simply been overridden by another, far more overwhelming current.

A surge of electricity, both scorching and cool, instantly spread from her fingertips like a tide, flooding through her entire body.

Outside the window, the wind and rain continued their unrelenting duet, the damp chill seeping into the room, saturating the air with a sticky, clammy coldness.

Yet Fu Ru’an’s grip on her hand was clean and dry. What was damp and sticky was the bl00d gushing from her wound, carrying the rusted scent of something left unbleached by the sun.

She could almost feel the bl00d sliding down the crevices of her fingers, leaving behind garish scarlet streaks on Fu Ru’an’s cool, pale skin.

“Don’t move.” Fu Ru’an murmured, her voice low, carrying a tenderness that bordered on restraint. She bent closer to Ruan Siyi’s hand, her nose nearly brushing against the wound.

A warm breath suddenly cascaded over her fingertips.

The next second came a sensation—warm and soft.

That electric current seemed to intensify, now laced with moisture, like a live wire severed in the damp air, emitting a destructive buzz that amplified in her ears, hammering against her eardrums again and again.

In the frigid summer rain, she was inevitably pulled into a season shrouded in mist—long and disorienting. All she could think was that Fu Ru’an’s scarlet tongue resembled an overripe apple on the verge of rot in a fruit shop, exuding the dense, humid aura unique to subtropical monsoons, as it glided over the wound on her hand.

Following closely was the absolute envelopment from a warm oral cavity.

She took her injured finger into her mouth, saying it could disinfect the wound.

But when Ruan Siyi lowered her gaze and saw the jet-black hair, Fu Ru’an’s straight nose bridge, and her sharply defined jawline framed between them, along with those lush red lips—

Her finger slipped into those glistening lips, feeling the slight sting of the wound pressed against the tongue.

The simple white short-sleeved shirt and ordinary jeans, no longer the high-end brands she couldn’t even name, seemed to close the distance between them in an instant—closer than those nights spent studying together in the lofty attic.

So close that Ruan Siyi could even feel the uneven surface of Fu Ru’an’s molars brushing against her fingertip, the rough texture sending another wave of electric current through her.

After a while, Fu Ru’an slowly pushed her finger away and leaned back.

She rummaged through the cabinets but couldn’t find a single band-aid.

Without hesitation, Fu Ru’an declared, “Stay here for a bit. I’ll go downstairs to buy a band-aid and come right back.”

“Maybe I should go myself?”

Ruan Siyi asked timidly.

She had already caused Fu Ru’an so much trouble today—how could she let her go out to buy a band-aid for her?

But Fu Ru’an seemed to see right through her thoughts and replied coolly, “Do you even know your way around these alleys?”

Ruan Siyi immediately fell silent.

She would never admit to anyone that she had spent over an hour wandering in circles just to find this address—such an embarrassing fact.

As the creaky front door finally closed with a dull thud, Ruan Siyi looked down at her finger, still glistening with saliva under the light.

She stared at it for who knows how long before suddenly flushing crimson, turning her head away in a flustered, almost panicked motion.

The dampness seemed to seep through the moldy walls and air, penetrating her bones and pressing against her heart, until her emotions mirrored the weather outside—drizzling endlessly.

Yet the sharp sting on her finger served as a vivid reminder that what she felt inside was far from just a light rain.

——The boiling bl00d longed to burst through the thin capillaries, raging wildly beneath her skin.

After a while, her vision finally refocused, landing on the book Fu Ru’an had placed on the table. A slip of paper was casually tucked between the pages, serving as a bookmark.

The cover was a deep wine-red, like the color of the half-dried wound on her hand.

She flipped it open and pulled out the “bookmark.” At a glance, it looked oddly familiar.

On the front was unmistakably the letter of repentance she had been forced to write the day after Fu Ru’an caught her reading erotica that night.

“Respected Teacher Fu—”

—Scratched out.

“Respected Senior Fu—”

—Scratched out.

“Dearest Sister Fu:

Today, with immense remorse, I sincerely reflect on my mistakes and submit this earnest letter of repentance to you—

The “you” was crossed out and replaced with a casual “you.”

Today, with immense remorse, I sincerely reflect on my mistakes and submit this earnest letter of repentance to you.

I admit my wrongdoing—I should not have secretly swapped out my physics workbook for that utterly captivating, heart-pounding, exquisitely written, and endlessly memorable action-packed novel.

Even if the physics workbook truly tastes like wax, bland and uninspiring, leaving me dizzy, confused, and utterly lost, with no choice but to sigh in despair.

For the remainder of my high school years, I will study diligently, asking questions whenever I don’t understand and actively seeking guidance from Sister Fu. I will never again read such books—at least not until I come of age. And as for this novel, I hereby surrender it to Senior Fu Ru’an, who is already an adult, for safekeeping.”

Below was a row of words she had been forced to write under the coercion of the physics-loving Senior Fu, each one dripping with insincerity:

“Long live physics!” “Long, long live the physics workbook!”

Finally, Fu Ru’an’s red-inked annotation:

“Matter is energy, everything is light. We are all light beings.”

“I hope Little Ruan (changed to ‘Junior Ruan’ at Ruan Siyi’s pleading) will genuinely come to love physics and cherish the beautiful moments spent in its company.”

Ruan Siyi’s heart gave a sudden jolt.

Could this be her novel?

Had Sister Fu given it yet another new cover?

This binding was far more sophisticated than the old High School Physics Textbook disguise.

Her beloved book—this fate could hardly be called unworthy of it.

But when she looked at the contents, she froze in surprise.

It wasn’t that book at all, but another written by a Taiwanese author.

On the page marked by the bookmark, a pencil had hastily underlined a sentence—the stroke heavy at the start, light at the end, less like handwriting and more like a scratch carved into the page.

“I am someone who can love women. Tears gush like a spring, coating my face like egg and honey.”

The heavy door was suddenly flung open again. Startled, Ruan Siyi turned her head.

“What are you looking at?”

Fu Ru’an returned, damp with rain, moisture coating her face.