I Fell in Love With My Cool, Aloof, and Alluring Roommate (GL) - Chapter 2

Rong Ting didn’t feel something was off until she entered the dorm building and looked out the side window toward the courtyard gate—no one was there anymore.

She thought that girl was really strange.

A bit unusual.

The night owl life of college students was just beginning at 10 p.m. Girls returning from study rooms and the library jostled in the hallway, and even the washroom was packed, already forming a queue.

Yet she felt completely detached from this lively atmosphere. Standing at her dorm door, Rong Ting took a deep breath.

Before entering, she could clearly hear giggles and chatter inside, but the moment she opened the door, everything fell silent. From Wan Sang’s bed came a rustling sound as the curtain was swiftly pulled shut.

Then followed another suffocating silence.

Chen Saiyu, who had been standing by the table pouring hot water, now avoided eye contact, looking as if she had something to say but couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Rong Ting simply set down her backpack, changed into slippers, and pretended everything was normal. After washing up with her basin outside, she returned, climbed into bed, and drew her curtain closed.

Her curtain was fully enclosed, and only in this cocoon-like space did she feel a slight sense of security.

The white light outside remained bright, and the soft shuffling of girls walking on the floor made it hard to fall asleep. She quietly waited for the lights to go out.

Just a few minutes later, her phone suddenly buzzed.

A bad feeling washed over Rong Ting. She opened her phone to see a WeChat notification from “Beauties of Dorm 342.”

There were two messages.

Rong Ting tapped to open them.

A flood of text filled the entire screen.

It was from Wan Sang.

[@Rong Ting: I really can’t hold back anymore. Have you had something going on lately, or do you have a problem with us? Everyone’s been taking this seriously—no one wants to just muddle through. We all have precious time, so what, is your time the only one that can’t be wasted? What are you sighing about? I say three or four sentences and you sigh—are you short of breath or do you have some kind of illness?]

[And what did we ever do to you? Can’t the features on your face move? You never show any expression. You joined this group project voluntarily, right? Are you really that put out? If you’re not happy with it, go find another group yourself!]

It wasn’t over yet. As if wanting to vent everything in one go, another message arrived two seconds later.

[Lastly, a friendly suggestion: Do you think I’m your secretary? You ask me when you’re free, then send me your schedule and tell me to check your availability myself?? Ridiculous. Anyway, I’m just saying what I think. And it’s not like this is the first time you’ve acted this way.]

Reading these messages, scenes flashed rapidly through Rong Ting’s mind. She had sensed something was off even before coming back today.

Her schedule was usually quite packed. She had to make time for studying at the library, learning German, and tutoring—so she occasionally forgot to reply to messages in the group chat.

That day, Wan Sang had asked her when she was free. To avoid the hassle of coordinating back and forth, Rong Ting had marked her available times on her schedule and sent it over. After that, there had been no response.

At the time, she thought Wan Sang had simply seen it and forgotten to reply. Looking back now, it wasn’t that simple.

Later that afternoon, close to evening, Wan Sang had finally notified the group about the discussion. Rong Ting, rushing back, asked for the location. Wan Sang had replied with a voice message, her tone noticeably unpleasant.

Maybe the problem had started even then.

The dorm room was unusually quiet, with only the faint sound of fingernails tapping against phone screens.

Rong Ting slowly gathered her thoughts, forcing herself to look on the bright side. Perhaps Wan Sang had simply misunderstood her.

She hesitated for a moment before slowly typing a reply.

[When you asked me when I was free, my schedule was too chaotic, so I marked my available times to make it easier for you to adjust. Also, your tone when you spoke to me this afternoon was quite harsh, and I don’t know what I did to offend you. I wasn’t sighing earlier—I just have a bit of a cold and my nose is stuffy.]

It was unclear which part of her message had angered Wan Sang, but she immediately fired back with a long string of texts.

[@Rong Ting: Are you kidding me? You call my tone harsh? That’s just how loud I talk! If anything, you’re the one being passive-aggressive. Stop trying to pin this on me! If I really had a problem with you, I wouldn’t have even told you where we were discussing things. Don’t try to dodge the issue—we’re talking about your problem here!]

The moment Rong Ting read it, she couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh.

Well, that response was enough to make her lose any desire to explain further.

Things were already bad enough—what did it matter if they got worse?

Rong Ting deleted the words she had typed, one by one, and tossed her phone aside.

It seemed someone had returned to the dorm. Someone turned off the lights, plunging the room into complete darkness.

Lying in bed, Rong Ting tried to force herself to sleep, but her heart seemed to beat faster and faster, as if beyond her control.

She turned onto her side, struggling to catch her breath, yet still feeling as though she were drowning.

Surrounded by people, the trivialities of interpersonal relationships terrified her. A suffocating sensation surged from her chest.

Quietly, Rong Ting opened the chat window with her mother and typed: [Mom, I’m having trouble breathing.]

The next day, halfway through class, Rong Ting received a call from her mother.

Only then did she notice the unread messages on WeChat. She immediately packed her things and rushed out of the school gate as soon as the first class ended.

Her mother stood at the school entrance, looking weary from the hurried journey. Beside her was a small suitcase—it was clear she had rushed over as soon as she received the call.

Rong Ting’s eyes instantly welled up. She called out “Mom” and threw herself into her arms.

They hugged for a long time before her mother finally took a good look at her face. Rong Ting’s complexion was pale, her lips chapped, and her once-gentle almond-shaped eyes now dull and lifeless. Her mother anxiously asked, “What happened? Why are you having trouble breathing?”

Later, sitting in a McDonald’s, Rong Ting slowly recounted what had been happening lately.

Her emotions were too sensitive, easily disturbed by the outside world. First, she noticed the tense atmosphere in the dorm—Wan Sang had been isolating her for a while, and soon after, another dormmate who was close to Wan Sang also began ignoring her.

Chen Saiyu did nothing to ease the tension between them. Sometimes, Rong Ting even felt she had to deliberately please her to win over the neutral party in the dorm.

Such dorm dynamics exhausted her.

Gradually, she began experiencing chest tightness.

The irregular heartbeat started when Wan Sang yelled at her over the phone. At first, she thought it was just a normal reaction to the emotional shock, but last night, she realized it wasn’t that simple.

They went to the hospital, registered for an appointment, and completed a series of tests in the afternoon. After reviewing the results, the doctor diagnosed her with chronic cor pulmonale. He advised her to pay more attention to emotional management and exercise regularly, as neglecting these could lead to symptoms like rapid heartbeat, chest tightness, and shortness of breath.

Still concerned, Rong’s mother took her to the psychosomatic department. Rong Ting spent half an hour completing tests on the computer, and the results also indicated moderate depression, emphasizing the need to regulate her emotions.

Carrying the results, neither of them said a word.

Knowing she would need to stay with her for a few days, Rong’s mother had booked a hotel in advance, while Rong Ting simply skipped her afternoon classes.

Taxis were hard to come by in the capital, and they waited for quite a while.

As the car headed southeast, Rong Ting watched the scenery flash by outside the window, growing increasingly unfamiliar. She had never even seen the landscape beyond three kilometers from the university.

For the first time, she felt she had never truly understood this city.

Or rather, she had never felt a sense of belonging.

The hotel Rong’s mother had booked was located in a traditional courtyard house within a hutong, and the price was affordable—just over a hundred yuan per night, which was quite reasonable compared to others that cost four or five hundred.

The only downside was that it wasn’t very close to U University, so Rong Ting would need to take a taxi to campus over the next few days.

The courtyard was adorned with large red lanterns, and the front hall was decorated with retro-colored glass. Even the lights inside the room were dim and yellowish, with a screen separating the bathroom from the two beds.

After washing up, the two sat on the bed and chatted.

Rong’s mother understood that her child was too soft-hearted, easily manipulated and bullied. Even now, she didn’t blame her. Instead, she asked directly: since the dormitory situation wasn’t working out, did she want to rent a place?

It wasn’t that Rong Ting didn’t want to rent, but housing in the capital was too expensive, especially near their university, where available rentals were scarce. Renting a single room would cost at least 3,000 yuan per month.

Rong’s mother was a primary school teacher, earning just six or seven thousand yuan a month in her hometown. Rong’s father and his friends ran a small business in Shanghai, where income was unpredictable—some months they could make over ten thousand, while other years they barely earned anything.

She didn’t want to burden her parents too much.

Rong’s mother, however, was quite philosophical. “Some money is meant to be spent. Otherwise, why do we work so hard? It’s all for your better life.”

Her next words left Rong Ting speechless.

“If you don’t spend money on rent now, you might end up spending it on medical treatment later. That would be a greater loss.”

Rong Ting fell silent for a moment, then slowly took out yesterday’s fruit box and candied hawthorn from her bag, handing the fruit box to her mother.

Their dormitory didn’t have a refrigerator, and the candied hawthorn had been in her bag overnight. The sugar coating had melted onto the paper wrapper, and the rice paper crumbled when she pulled it out.

“I’m asking you a question, and you’re still eating,” Rong’s mother said, half-amused and half-exasperated at the sight of the treats. “How old are you, still buying candied hawthorn?”

Rong Ting pouted. “I’m not that old. I’m still a kid.”

Rong’s mother smiled helplessly and took the fruit box to find a plate. Rong Ting took a bite of the candied hawthorn. The softened sugar coating melted on her tongue, sweet and pleasant, while the hawthorn fruit underneath was tart and slightly bitter.

Honestly, even after two years at U University, she had never noticed the fruit shop nearby, let alone knew what snacks they sold.

She paid more attention to her studies, occasionally learning about new dishes in the cafeteria or eating whatever seasonal fruit was provided. The fruit shop at the entrance was always crowded, which made her hesitant to approach it.

She recalled how effortlessly the girl had opened the refrigerator—she must have been a regular around U University.

Rong Ting remembered her cool, elegant features and the slightly faded green highlights in her hair, which added a touch of charm.

She didn’t think she had ever seen such a bold hair color on campus before.

Once she decided to rent a place, Rong’s mother extended their stay at the hotel for a few more days. During this time, Rong Ting mostly stayed with her mother, only returning to campus when she had specialized courses.

Fortunately, the school dormitory management wasn’t strict, and she hadn’t contacted any of her roommates over the past couple of days.

That evening, after finishing her specialized course, Chen Saiyu stopped her. “Where have you been these past two days? Everyone’s been looking for you.”

Rong Ting showed no expression. “Who exactly is ‘everyone’?”

Chen Saiyu was momentarily speechless. “Well… Anyway, Wan Sang has always been like that—when she’s unhappy, she lashes out at everyone. Don’t take it to heart.” She leaned closer and added, “Besides, with you gone, they’ve been even more unrestrained in talking behind your back.”

Rong Ting smiled coldly. “I never felt they were particularly restrained before, either.”

That day, Rong’s mother seemed very cheerful. As soon as Rong Ting returned, she pulled her aside and excitedly told her she had found a good rental opportunity.

It turned out the hotel owner had recommended it. The owner had a friend living in a neighborhood near U University, and the tenant who had been sharing the apartment had just moved out, leaving a room available.

The owner was quite enthusiastic and said to Rong Ting, “You two are close in age—she’s about two years older than you. And as for her personality… well, she’s quite unique. But don’t worry, she’s usually out working most of the time and is pretty quiet. She won’t disturb you.”

“Her mother asked me to keep an eye on her, and I only found out a couple of days ago that her roommate had moved out. She was planning to live alone, but when I heard you were looking for a place, I mentioned it to her. You’re such a well-behaved girl. I’m sure the two of you will get along just fine.”

Rong Ting didn’t mind either way, but her mother suddenly asked, “If they’re around the same age, this girl must still be in school, right? Is she about to graduate?”

The hotel owner’s smile faltered slightly, and she replied casually, “She was originally studying law at J University but dropped out in her freshman year because she didn’t like her major.”

Rong’s mother hesitated. “So, what is she doing now…?”

“She has her own job and won’t affect your daughter,” the owner added, her tone noticeably cooler. “I’m just letting you know about this rental opportunity. Whether you take it or not is up to you.”

Before her mother could ask more questions, Rong Ting quickly interrupted, gently tugging her arm to signal her to stop.

J University’s law program was ranked first in the country. Many of its graduates went on to work at prestigious law firms, and even those who didn’t pursue law often became civil servants or entered government roles through selective recruitment. Anyone who could get into J University’s law program was clearly no ordinary person.

Rong Ting couldn’t help but wonder why this person had dropped out.

Was it really because she didn’t like her major? Then why had she chosen it in the first place?

If she had chosen it only to drop out later, that seemed incredibly impulsive.

Since rental options were hard to come by, Rong’s mother hesitated for a while but eventually agreed to take a look.

Rong Ting received the person’s WeChat ID, which displayed a profile picture of a green wizard’s hat.

When she opened the Moments feed, it showed only a single horizontal line.