Two Faced Lover - Chapter 11

11: Roommate
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‎When the trio left the Lost Deer Bar, it was peak hours. The streets outside were bustling with people, luxury cars lined the roadside, and men and women, having just stepped out of their vehicles, were in no hurry to enter the bar. Instead, they gathered by the roadside, laughing and bantering.
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‎”Miya, where do you live?” Fu Junxue lowered her head to text her family driver, confirming the parking location. “I can have the driver drop you off.”
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‎Bo Mingyan was about to decline when she suddenly heard a familiar name amidst the noisy chatter nearby. Her expression froze for a moment, and she instinctively glanced over. A group of four or five young men were walking toward the entrance of a bar up ahead.
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‎The one leading the pack was tall, wearing a shirt with an orange print, his face clean and bright, exuding a sunny disposition.
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‎As the group filed into the bar, Meng Xuran followed Bo Mingyan’s gaze and stared in that direction for a couple of seconds before calmly looking away. Casually, she answered for Bo Mingyan, “She lives at Bishui Yuntian.”
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‎Bo Mingyan shifted her gaze from the group to Meng Xuran, who was now fiddling with her phone.
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‎Given Meng Xuran’s earlier reactions, Bo Mingyan had assumed she didn’t want Fu Junxue to know they were roommates.
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‎”That’s not far. Let’s go.” Fu Junxue took a couple of steps before asking, “How do you know where she lives?”
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‎Meng Xuran’s answer was ambiguous: “Same neighborhood as me.”
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‎Bo Mingyan raised an eyebrow. So she really didn’t want Fu Junxue to know.
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‎Reading between the lines, it could be interpreted as them running into each other on the way to or from work since they lived in the same area.
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‎Fu Junxue didn’t press further.
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‎The driver opened the front passenger door for Fu Junxue first. Bo Mingyan wasn’t used to waiting for someone to open the door for her, so she naturally walked to the back seat and pulled the handle herself.
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‎Before she could bend down to get in, Meng Xuran slipped past her, one leg already inside, and flashed a polite smile. “Thanks, sis.”
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‎”…”
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‎The driver, seeing Meng Xuran already seated, got into the driver’s seat. Fu Junxue, now buckled in, turned to look back. “Miya, come on in.”
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‎Bo Mingyan murmured an “Okay” and settled into the car.
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‎Just as she closed the door, Fu Junxue gave the driver the address, then suddenly remembered something and asked Meng Xuran, “Little Gu mentioned you rented out the spare room—found a roommate?”
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‎Bo Mingyan instinctively glanced at Meng Xuran, who was lazily leaning against the window, seemingly drowsy, one hand holding her phone while the other swiped at the screen.
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‎She was playing Fruit Ninja—casually, slicing only the oranges out of all the falling fruits.
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‎Meng Xuran gave a nonchalant “Mhm.”
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‎”Why suddenly want a roommate?” Fu Junxue didn’t get it. Their family wasn’t short on money, and if the roommate turned out to be troublesome, it’d be a hassle.
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‎Bo Mingyan was curious too, ears perked for the answer.
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‎Meng Xuran, unfazed, tossed out three words: “Got lonely.”
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‎”…”
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‎The air conditioning hummed, but the atmosphere in the car chilled a degree colder.
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‎After a long pause, the driver coughed to break the silence.
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‎”Can’t you ever be serious?” Fu Junxue asked, “What’s your roommate like?”
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‎Meng Xuran’s finger paused mid-slice—hitting a bomb. The phone vibrated sharply in her palm. She swallowed, her tone lightening. “My roommate? Absolutely incomparable.”
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‎Bo Mingyan, who had been resting her head back with closed eyes, inhaled slightly and slowly opened them.
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‎Warm orange streetlights spilled through the window, pooling in her palm. Her fingers curled faintly.
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‎”Praising your roommate is just a roundabout way of praising yourself.” Fu Junxue laughed. “Your shamelessness never fails to impress me.”
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‎Meng Xuran shrugged. “It’s called confidence.”
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‎Fu Junxue scoffed and dropped the topic, turning to Bo Mingyan instead. “Miya, do you live alone or…?”
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‎”With a roommate.” Bo Mingyan replied.
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‎Meng Xuran cut in, “Next question: ‘How’s your roommate?’ Right?”
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‎Fu Junxue hadn’t planned to ask—probing her sister was one thing, but prying into others’ lives was nosy. She was about to say, I’m not that gossipy, when Bo Mingyan spoke up.
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‎”My roommate…”
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‎Bo Mingyan hesitated. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Meng Xuran’s hand hovering mid-air, the game on her phone screen now frozen as fruits dropped one after another, points rapidly deducting.
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‎Game Over.
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‎The streetlights flickered intermittently along the road. Bo Mingyan lowered her gaze, slowly tightening her fist. “One of a kind, I guess.”
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‎”That’s the art of saying nothing while saying something.” Fu Junxue teased. “Everyone in the world is one of a kind.”
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‎”…” The faint curve of Meng Xuran’s lips flattened. “Sis.”
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‎”Hm?”
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‎”Can you not talk for a bit?”
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‎”…”
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‎The rest of the ride passed in silence until Bo Mingyan got out. Only then did the sisters bid her farewell.
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‎At the entrance, Bo Mingyan switched to slippers while texting Lu Yo to confirm she’d gotten home safely. When she looked up, the living room was pitch-black.
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‎Usually, after work, Meng Xuran either arrived with her or just before her. The woman was finicky—she hated darkness, so lights followed her everywhere, leaving the apartment perpetually bright. Claiming headphones hurt her ears, she’d blast calls, games, or music on speaker, ensuring the space was never silent.
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‎Without someone who brought that noise, the spacious apartment felt hollow.
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‎Even breathing seemed lonelier.
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‎It suddenly made sense why Meng Xuran had said, Got lonely.
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‎Reeking of smoke and alcohol from the bar, Bo Mingyan turned on the lights and headed straight for the shower.
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‎After drying her hair, she checked her phone.
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‎Three unread messages.
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‎[Crybaby: Remember to lock up.]
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‎[Crybaby: Feed my fish for me.]
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‎The last one, sent a minute later:
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‎[Crybaby: Thanks, sis.]
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‎”…”
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‎She really did feel like a glorified house-sitter.
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‎Bo Mingyan typed back: [Don’t worry. You’re welcome.]
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‎The door was already locked, but she double-checked it before feeding the fish. She filmed two clips as proof and sent them to Meng Xuran like homework submissions.
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‎Two minutes later, a reply came.
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‎[Crybaby: Good.]
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‎For some reason, staring at that single word, Bo Mingyan felt like it carried an unspoken “Good girl.”
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‎She didn’t respond further. Instead, she flopped onto the couch, flipping through TV channels aimlessly until she landed on a fashion show—a parent-child edition.
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‎A woman playing the mother knelt to hug the child model. Both wore matching outfits, pressed close like real family.
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‎It wasn’t mother and son, but it might as well have been.
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‎The image dredged up thoughts of Lin Huixin and He Chencheng. Bo Mingyan’s mood soured instantly. Frowning, she grabbed the remote, turned off the TV, and retreated to her room.
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‎Lying in bed, she scrolled through apps as usual before landing on WeChat’s Moments.
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‎Several people had liked her post promoting Lu Yo’s bar.
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‎Amid the colorful profile pictures, Meng Xuran’s pitch-black avatar stood out starkly.
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‎On impulse, Bo Mingyan tapped it.
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‎The previously blank “3-day visibility” feed now had one post:
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‎A smug-looking Shiba Inu with the caption:
‎”The domineering CEO Shiba smirks—who’s creeping on my profile again?”
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‎”…”
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‎Bo Mingyan swiped away instantly.
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‎A beat later, the corner of her mouth twitched upward.
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‎Having slept heavily during the day, she expected to stay awake half the night. But exhaustion crept in quickly—perhaps from revisiting old memories, or mentioning her sudden pivot to grad school in the U.S.
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‎That night, she dreamed of the week before her applications.
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‎On the anniversary of Bo Weize’s death, she dreamed of him.
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‎Realizing how long it’d been since she last thought of her father, she decided to return to China.
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‎Because of the rift with Lin Huixin, Bo Mingyan didn’t tell her.
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‎After landing, she went straight to Longgu Mountain Cemetery in Nanquan.
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‎Buying flowers at the entrance, she climbed the steps, passing rows of graves before stopping at the last one. She stared silently at the gentle, handsome man in the grayscale photo.
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‎Minutes later, her gaze shifted left—to the tomb of a foreign man, Bo Weize’s closest friend. Her father had brought her here to pay respects a few times as a child.
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‎This row held only their two graves, both devoid of even withered flowers.
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‎A staff member said, “Get an annual pass. We’ll leave flowers and burn offerings for you. It’s sad when no one visits.”
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‎Bo Mingyan bit her lip, eyes reddening. As she bent to place the bouquet, she blinked hard.
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‎A tear weighed down a leaf.
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‎Before returning to the U.K., she visited Lin Huixin’s neighborhood.
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‎By sheer chance, just as she found the right building from memory, Lin Huixin stepped out of a black sedan—followed by He Chencheng. Bo Mingyan ducked behind a tree, their conversation crystal clear:
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‎”Don’t want to dorm? I’ll talk to your teacher.”
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‎”Thanks, Auntie. You’re so kind—just like my mom.”
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‎Yet two days prior, when Bo Mingyan told Lin Huixin she missed home as break neared, the response was, Focus on your exams. No invitation back.
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‎The cold seeped into her bones.
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‎Resentment and hurt squeezed her lungs like invisible hands.
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‎Bo Mingyan jolted awake with a shiver.
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‎She turned off the A/C and checked her phone: 3:48 AM.
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‎A notification hung on the screen:
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‎[Crybaby: What time are you grocery shopping tomorrow?]
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‎Bo Mingyan replied: [?]
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‎Then she stared at the ceiling.
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‎After that day, back in the U.K., Fu Junxue mentioned Meng Xuran wanted to talk to her privately.
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‎But Bo Mingyan wasn’t in the mood, dodging with excuses every time.
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‎Later, buried in grad school prep, she left for the U.S. without a word—cutting ties with Meng Xuran completely.
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‎Her phone lit up again:
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‎[Crybaby: Never seen someone shop for groceries. I’m observing.]
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‎What’s there to observe about grocery shopping?
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‎Bo Mingyan’s throat moved with a sound—half a scoff, half a laugh.
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‎Without realizing it, the weight in her chest had already dissolved.