Xu Yinian squeezed her eyes shut, not daring to look a second longer.
Ji Yan was usually indifferent to such things, having seen far too much of the world’s vanity. She was so cold that her reputation for being “frigid” had spread far and wide. Yet today, whether it was because of the restless, soft warmth she held in her arms, or because of what she had witnessed earlier, she felt an uncharacteristic, rigid discomfort.
Suddenly, she noticed something. Her pupils constricted, and her dark gaze drifted uncontrollably downward.
Were her legs… clamped together?
The thought that Xu Yinian was having a physical reaction to the sounds of the couple nearby made Ji Yan’s breath hitch with heat. Her throat felt parched, a dry ache settling in.
The torture of this proximity lasted for an eternity until the couple finally left, seemingly satisfied.
Xu Yinian scrambled out of Ji Yan’s embrace immediately. Her face was flushed a deep crimson as she stood to the side, taking small, furtive breaths to calm herself.
Ji Yan watched her exaggerated reaction. “Even if you’ve never eaten pork, surely you’ve seen a pig run? Is it really that embarrassing?”
“Your ears… aren’t they red too…?”
Remembering the slight flush she had seen on the tips of Ji Yan’s ears back in the bathroom, Xu Yinian’s voice trailed off into a whisper.
“That’s because—” Ji Yan started to retort, but she cut herself off abruptly, falling silent.
Because of this little interlude, Xu Yinian was clearly distracted while drying Ji Yan’s hair afterward. She didn’t even notice the abnormal redness lingering on Ji Yan’s skin.
After all, the common room hairdryer had been used by countless people and hadn’t been sanitized. Ji Yan had expected her Germaphobia to trigger a more visceral, repulsed reaction.
Instead, her gaze grew deeper and darker.
Xiao Lin was the type who never lifted a finger for manual labor; wherever she went, she was waited on by a fleet of stylists and assistants. Even before Ji Yan was six, her mother had never once dried her hair. After the age of six, Ji Yan had refused to let anyone touch her at all.
To the world, she was aloof, arrogant, and untouchable.
But throughout her life, the only things she truly possessed were inanimate objects—things no one else had touched, things that belonged solely to her.
Even now, despite the skin-crawling discomfort of her phobia, she stubbornly insisted on this brief moment of warmth and intimacy. It was the only way to fulfill the expectations and hopes that lived within The Vacancy of her heart.
It was past midnight by the time they returned to the dorm.
The moment the door opened, Xu Yinian was met with a pair of cold eyes leaning against the Entryway.
“Forty-seven minutes.”
Shen Ruoshuang’s voice was like ice. “Seven minutes for your hair. Fifteen for hers. What about the remaining twenty-five minutes?”
Xu Yinian’s mouth hung open slightly. It was too precise… she was exactly right.
“Having an affair, obviously,” Ji Yan sneered.
“N-no… a couple was being intimate in the common room, and we had to wait for them to leave,” Xu Yinian explained hurriedly. Only then did she feel the suffocating tension in the air loosen slightly.
Having received the answer she wanted, Shen Ruoshuang’s cold gaze swept over Ji Yan.
“Twenty-five minutes? That sounds about right for your limit.”
With that, she turned and walked back inside.
Ji Yan’s expression darkened instantly, her dark eyes flashing with a violent, sharp aura.
That was the second time!
First, she mocked her technique, and now her stamina? If she didn’t leave Xu Yinian unable to get out of bed, she would truly be failing the “expectations” the woman surnamed Shen kept prattling on about.
Xu Yinian didn’t understand the double entendre at all; she only felt that Ji Yan’s current aura was terrifyingly heavy. She shrank back and ducked into the bathroom, intending to wash her nightgown.
But the shelf was empty.
She searched the room, confirming it wasn’t there. Harboring a faint, impossible thought, she walked out to the balcony. There, hanging in the breeze, was a familiar flash of white.
Every wrinkle had been smoothed out.
That meticulous, perfectionist habit allowed Xu Yinian’s brain to instantly match the act to a specific person.
…While she and Ji Yan were out, Shen Ruoshuang had hand-washed her clothes?!
Xu Yinian gasped, suddenly breaking into a fit of coughing—whether from the cold air or pure shock, she wasn’t sure.
“Did you catch a cold?” Ji Yan’s voice drifted from inside, laced with sudden, tense concern.
Not daring to let Ji Yan discover what had happened, Xu Yinian hurried back inside. She instinctively glanced at Shen Ruoshuang, but the other woman showed no reaction. She sat alone under the lamp, gripping a pen and working through calculations.
Whether it was the data on her laptop or the paper documents on her desk, it was all information Xu Yinian didn’t recognize. This sense of distance and coldness made Yinian daze for a moment, even making her doubt her own deduction.
But if it hadn’t been Shen Ruoshuang, who else could it have been? No one else was in the dorm.
The thought of the cold, aloof Inaccessible Flower personally hand-washing her… intimate nightgown…
Xu Yinian’s face, which had been stunned for a long time, finally began to burn fiercely. Her mind in a chaotic whirl, she dove behind her bed curtains to hide.
Hearing the flustered movement, Shen Ruoshuang suddenly looked up. The obsession that had brewed all night hadn’t dissipated; it was merely waiting for the perfect moment to vent.
Late into the night, while Xu Yinian was drifting between sleep and wakefulness, her usual allergic reaction arrived late. It was itchy and painful. She tossed and turned, her hand instinctively reaching out to scratch the irritation.
Right then, the sound of someone climbing the bed ladder jolted her awake.
Confusion clouded her mind. Is Shen Ruoshuang getting up in the middle of the night?
The next moment, her own bed dipped silently under an added weight. In the darkness, a shadow loomed over her.
S-Shen Ruoshuang…
She had climbed into her bed?!
Fortunately, Yinian was conscious enough to keep from screaming and waking Ji Yan on the other side of the room. She tried desperately to shrink into the corner, but her retreat only cleared a space for the person pressing in, looking for all the world like an invitation.
Shen Ruoshuang knelt by her side, her dark, shadowy gaze fixed intently on Xu Yinian. The two of them remained in a frozen deadlock.
Suddenly, the phone on Xu Yinian’s pillow lit up.
Ji: [Are you awake? I heard movement on your side. Is the allergy making you uncomfortable?]
Shen Ruoshuang clearly saw the message. The light from the screen reflected in her eyes, creating a soul-stirring intensity. The glow also illuminated Xu Yinian’s current, disheveled state.
In that brief moment, a hand pressed down beside the pillow with an overwhelming, forceful presence.
A peerless, beautiful face enlarged before Yinian’s eyes, bringing with it a familiar, chillingly elegant fragrance. Strands of hair brushed against her cheek, mingling completely with Xu Yinian’s own scattered tresses.
Cold fingertips clamped Yinian’s slender wrists together, snapping them back and pinning them firmly above her head.
Shen Ruoshuang was now inches away. She heard the soft, instinctive whimper that escaped Xu Yinian’s lips.
Leaning in, she whispered word by word into Yinian’s ear:
“You wouldn’t want her to come join us, would you?”
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