Chapter 22

“So you’re saying you know she’s your online husband, but she doesn’t know you’re her online wife?”

In a corner booth of a barbecue restaurant on the weekend, Ding Ya sipped her beer intermittently. Shen Mu, her hair freshly dyed pink, pushed up her exaggerated glasses frames, looked at Ding Ya—who appeared so innocent butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth—and gave a thumbs-up.

“You really are two-facedly bad, aren’t you?”

The place was packed with students on the weekend, unsurprisingly, given its proximity to the university town. The hustle and bustle was lively.

Ding Ya blinked innocently at Shen Mu’s remark. “Am I?”

Aside from her pink hair, Shen Mu wasn’t particularly eye-catching. She’d taken off her flashy outer jacket, revealing a hoodie underneath. Her sleeves were pushed up, making her look like she was about to punch Ding Ya.

“Aren’t you just being too cruel? Isn’t this just bullying an honest person?”

Of her four university roommates, Ding Ya was relatively closest to Shen Mu. The other two were perennial normies, mostly serving as errand-runners bringing things to the dorm and occasionally having their boyfriends do some heavy lifting.

One of them had just gotten married in the first half of this year, and her bouquet was caught by the other.

So the other one’s good news was probably imminent too.

That left the two single dogs. Romantic prospects in university had been meager at best. Ding Ya had something, but she managed to blow it up herself. Even when others pursued her later, she remained completely indifferent.

Shen Mu was purely ambiguous in her sexual orientation; she didn’t even know what type she liked herself.

Both Ding Ya and Shen Mu had high standards for appearance. Shen Mu, a professional content creator heavily focused on the anime/2D realm, always had plenty to chat about with Ding Ya. They were just both homebodies. Even though they were both in Bramble City, they rarely went out together.

Ding Ya dipped her meat in chili sauce and asked back, “Is it really that bad?”

She propped her chin on her hand. The overhead lights spilled onto her face, making her expression unreadable, as if she herself were coated in a food filter, appearing incredibly enticing.

Shen Mu had done extensive research on beautiful women. Over the years since university, she’d learned that Ding Ya was a little bit bad.

But at the same time, Ding Ya was also a bit Zen. You could say she was unremarkable, and it would fit. In a crowd of people during a large lecture class, finding someone prettier than her was easy.

Yet, after spending a long time with Ding Ya, you’d discover she seemed to care about nothing. Or maybe she simply lacked nothing.

There were many students from wealthy families in their department. Ding Ya wasn’t the richest, nor the poorest. Logically, everyone had some impulsive purchases. Ding Ya’s impulse purchases always seemed like just going through the motions.

It was hard to pinpoint something she truly liked.

In university, Shen Mu would go crazy over manga every few days. Ding Ya knew this and, after understanding it, could chat a bit with Shen Mu about it.

But she was very clear-headed. Nothing seemed worth obsessing over for her.

Even in a relationship, Ding Ya could exude a vibe of “this has nothing to do with me.” She was an odd one.

Shen Mu hesitated for a long moment, words on the tip of her tongue. Finally, she tipped her head back and drained the last of her beer, blurting out, “Do you like her?”

Could someone like Ding Ya truly like another person?

Shen Mu sometimes felt lost about the nature of her own relationship with Ding Ya, because whenever Ding Ya introduced her to others, it was always—

This is my classmate, Shen Mu.

When Ding Shuqing came to visit Ding Ya in university, Ding Ya said the same thing. That was normal.

They were classmates, after all.

Last year, Shen Mu took Ding Ya to an escape room. A guy there took an interest in Ding Ya, and Ding Ya chatted with him about Shen Mu.

Same line.

Does this person even have any friends?

Shen Mu had been a happy single since birth for so many years, solving countless relationship problems for others. She’d faithfully followed the law of “those not in relationships are always the busiest running around solving relationship problems” for a decade. It was only with Ding Ya that she felt utterly useless.

Incredible. Still fishing her online romance partner.

Ding Ya slowly placed her favorite bacon on the grill, staring at the charcoal fire beneath it. She thought of the last time she sat eating barbecue with Shu Chi. The way Shu Chi plated the food was almost obsessive-compulsive, insisting on perfect alignment.

But the plate was round. She couldn’t get it to form perfectly straight horizontal and vertical lines. Her brows would furrow as if eating a meal required her to kill someone first.

So fierce.

So cute.

Seeing the smile that crept onto Ding Ya’s face, Shen Mu felt goosebumps rise. She pursed her lips, thinking that the “honest person” was just too pitiful.

Ding Ya’s ex-boyfriend still looked hesitant and tongue-tied whenever her name came up.

The two had dated for a brief two weeks in their sophomore year, yet the guy acted like he’d been tortured for two months, tasted all the bitterness of love, and spent his summer vacation doing a month of volunteer work at a temple.

Shen Mu was course-mates with him in an elective but couldn’t get much out of him either. The guy just furrowed his brow and said only one thing—

I’m not worthy.

“It’s alright, I guess.”

Ding Ya flipped the meat, poking it with the tongs.

She was naturally baby-faced, like someone who stepped out of a shojo manga. Her smile was very sweet.

This type of look wasn’t the strikingly gorgeous kind that felt aggressive; it easily garnered goodwill from other women, though its appeal to the opposite sex might be slightly less.

After all, it didn’t verge on hot, and only half-qualified as pure. Most would probably just slot her into the “little sister” category.

But Ding Ya’s eyes could speak. Just looking at you in silence could make your heart twist and turn a hundred times.

If these eyes were set in an exquisitely charming face, they wouldn’t convey that sense of unspoken words, but rather a blatant, naked seduction.

No wonder, back in university sports meets, just going to help out got Ding Ya several new WeChat contacts.

Shen Mu asked, “What does ‘alright, I guess’ mean?”

She poked at her phone screen, glancing at the Weibo account Ding Ya followed mutually.

This person’s account was just daily life posts, occasionally photos, but not the “photoshopped-beyond-motherly-recognition” type. Pretty normal.

She might make cotton dolls on the side; a lot of people called her “Master.”

Ding Ya had just reposted one of Jing Yuqi’s vlogs.

It was Jing Yuqi’s occasional weekly work compilation. Shen Mu wasn’t particularly interested in this stuff.

Although she was a die-hard fan of this hot beauty, she preferred Jing Yuqi’s adult-oriented edutainment content.

Some stuff for mature women, well-paced. A subject Shen Mu studied for her own work.

Ding Ya said, “It means I don’t really know how much I like her either.”

Her lips were thin, yet the cupid’s bow was very distinct. Paired with those eyes, she could look pitiable and helpless without even trying.

This was exactly why Shen Mu used to willingly fetch free takeout for Ding Ya back in the day.

Appetite for beauty is human nature. Ding Ya’s voice was a bit coquettish. Being praised by her once made it hard not to feel light-headed. Shen Mu had a good temperament, though she still very much understood why Ding Ya’s ex-boyfriend was so deeply traumatized.

After all, it ended before it even truly began.

Shen Mu said, “Then why are you provoking her? And how did you even confirm it was her?”

Ding Ya said, “I’ve met her.”

She briefly recounted the events of that year. After listening, Shen Mu nearly spat out her drink. “What? Your husband is a female husband?”

She stared at Ding Ya for a long time, utterly unable to read the word “lesbian” anywhere on this person’s face.

After coughing for a while, Shen Mu said seriously, “Don’t play with people’s feelings. And you’re not a lesbian, right?”

Ding Ya asked, “If I want to kiss her, want to sleep with her, am I still a straight girl?”

She said it so earnestly, so seriously, so bluntly, so damn…

Shen Mu’s face went red.

She deeply realized you can’t judge a book by its cover. Ding Ya, who looked like such a girlish vision of pure beauty, was hiding this underneath!

Anyone else, and Shen Mu would find it perfectly normal, given their age.

But this was Ding Ya! The Ding Ya who was completely indifferent to handsome guys in university, polite and courteous to beautiful women, the Ding Ya who seemed mismatched with any man and discordant with any woman!

Shen Mu asked, “Then why don’t you just tell her directly? How old is she?”

Ding Ya said, “You know her. Shu Chi.”

Shen Mu reflexively said, “I know a… Huh? Who? The one I’m thinking of?”

Shen Mu snatched up her phone and opened the vlog Ding Ya had just reposted.

Shen Mu had watched it listlessly this morning, but the barrage comments showed many people were interested in the fleeting glimpse of Wellpond’s Second Boss.

Originating from that influencer breakup scandal, some rumors about the partners’ personal lives.

Eating her barbecue, Ding Ya nodded very naturally, then pulled up a photo to show Shen Mu. “It’s her. What do you think?”

This photo was one Ding Ya had pulled from Jing Yuqi’s WeChat.

Ding Ya, as the brand supervisor, naturally had contact for this project collaboration with the bosses of Wellpond.

Jing Yuqi seemed to have noticed Ding Ya’s interest in Shu Chi. Her attitude towards Ding Ya was good, and they occasionally chatted.

The photo was taken at last year’s company annual party.

Compared to the blurry online images, this one was super high-definition. Shu Chi’s unremarkable face with a hint of roughness was very world-weary. Against the event’s backdrop, it even managed to convey a slightly off-kilter sense of fashion.

Shen Mu said, “I’ve met the Second Boss. A very cool older sister.”

Her words were extremely flat, but her hand holding the chopsticks was actually trembling slightly. Ding Ya laughed. “What’s that for? Is it that serious?”

Shen Mu replied, “You’re managing to flirt your way up to the boss of a collaborating company. I’m truly in awe.”

Ding Ya said, “I’m not flirting.”

Shen Mu retorted, “Then you’re just sexting.”

Ding Ya said, “Not that either.”

The butterbeer tasted pretty good. Ding Ya narrowed her eyes as she drank, looking like a fox who’d stolen a fish. “How was I supposed to know she would turn out to be my business partner?”

Shen Mu said, “If it were me, I’d just lay the cards on the table. Anyway, in that cringey era, everyone lied a little bit, right? Online romance is all about playing a persona.”

Ding Ya shook her head. “Why lay the cards on the table?”

Shen Mu said, “Like, revealing the truth—online romance partners reunited years later, falling in love again… isn’t that romantic?”

Ding Ya let out an “Ah,” then said, “Wouldn’t it be more romantic if online romance partners reunited years later, had a one-night stand, and love grew from the sex?”

Shen Mu stared. “Do you have a fundamental misunderstanding of the word ‘romantic’?”

Ding Ya’s finger tapped on Shu Chi’s photo on the screen. Her freshly done manicure was pink and delicate, the tiny rhinestones on it all heart-shaped. “She looks delicious.”

Shen Mu made a strangled sound.

She felt nothing for Shu Chi. She’d seen her before because of work. Standing next to Jing Yuqi, she was too dim, yet her appearance had a certain impactful quality.

Unapproachable. Even a little intimidating at first glance.

Most people would choose to chat with the easygoing Jing Yuqi. Shu Chi would just stand silently to one side.

And someone like that was actually the “honest person” persona.

Shen Mu clicked her tongue, thinking that Ding Ya, biting her chopstick across from her, looked particularly wicked.

Clearly, you were the one who cut off contact back then. And now, upon meeting again, you still hold all the cards. You even fabricated a whole new lie, stringing her along in circles while sending her caring messages on WeChat every single day.

Under the fine-sounding name of “online lovesick friend.”

My ass.

Then Ding Ya received a WeChat message from someone. Her smile grew even more smug. Her finger tapped the screen. A few minutes later, someone sent her a new message.

Ding Ya didn’t hide it, just played the voice message aloud.

Shen Mu clearly heard the Second Boss’s voice say—

“Okay.”

Ding Ya had also sent her a photo of the barbecue.

Not sure what else was said. Shen Mu guessed it might be something about Ding Ya having to take the subway, because Shu Chi replied with—

“I’ll come pick you up.”

Shen Mu thought to herself: Damn. The seemingly pure and cute roommate is actually the true master of romance.