I Fell in Love With My Cool, Aloof, and Alluring Roommate (GL) - Chapter 4

After returning home, Rong Ting bought some groceries from a nearby supermarket to ensure she had at least some ingredients on hand if she felt like cooking in the coming days. Back in her rented apartment, she remembered that she still hadn’t completed an assignment for one of her classes, and the deadline was fast approaching. In a hurry, she plugged in her laptop and got to work.

But when she opened her computer, she found she couldn’t connect to the Wi-Fi. It suddenly dawned on her that she had forgotten to do the most important thing: ask for the Wi-Fi password!

Ran Jiu hadn’t returned yet, and Rong Ting wasn’t sure if she was busy. After hesitating for a while, she finally sent a WeChat message: “What’s our Wi-Fi password?”

It was already 8 p.m. She guessed the other person was occupied, but surely she could spare a moment to reply.

Soon after, Ran Jiu’s WeChat avatar lit up, and she sent a voice call request.

Rong Ting thought, “…” Is it really necessary to make something so simple so complicated?

She tapped to answer. The background noise on Ran Jiu’s end seemed a bit chaotic, though upon closer listening, it wasn’t the kind of noisy clamor typical of a bar—just the sound of many people talking at once.

Then, abruptly, the noise seemed to be cut off, and the background fell silent. Ran Jiu’s cool, clear voice came through with perfect clarity: “Hello? Can you hear me?”

Rong Ting instinctively leaned closer to the microphone. “Yes, I can.”

“I’ve forgotten the password too, but there’s a piece of paper with it written down. Let me tell you where to find it.” Ran Jiu paused, as if thinking. “First, go to the living room. Under the TV cabinet, there are two drawers. Open the one on the left. Inside, there’s a brown box.”

Following the instructions, Rong Ting found the drawer. There weren’t many things inside, so the brown box stood out immediately. She took it out and opened it, but aside from some receipts, she didn’t find the password. She wondered if it might be written on the back, so she flipped through them again—still nothing.

She honestly told Ran Jiu.

Ran Jiu’s tone, however, sounded lighthearted. “I knew it. Then, do you see the round stool in the living room? Lift the lid. There’s a stack of receipts inside too. The password might be written on the back of one of them.”

“…” Rong Ting searched again but still found nothing. She went on to check several other places one after another.

When she straightened up, she suddenly understood the purpose of this voice call.

Otherwise, she would have genuinely suspected that Ran Jiu was messing with her.

Finally, she found the thin slip of paper in the drawer of the shoe cabinet by the entrance. Wiping the sweat from her brow, Rong Ting carried it back to her room to connect to the Wi-Fi. Ran Jiu’s voice call ended immediately afterward.

Only after sitting down did Rong Ting feel a faint sense of disappointment.

She even caught herself thinking—what if that piece of paper had been in Ran Jiu’s bedroom instead?

She wasn’t the type to pry into others’ privacy, yet she couldn’t help feeling an inexplicable curiosity about her new roommate. Suppressing these thoughts, she steadied herself and began working on her paper.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she heard the sound of the door opening outside.

The other person’s movements were exceptionally quiet—from inserting the key to pulling the door open, there was barely any noise. Then came the sound of shoes pressing down on the newspaper in the shoe cabinet, followed by the soft shuffle of slippers and faint footsteps in the living room.

Rong Ting glanced at the clock and realized it was already 11:30 p.m.

Rubbing her eyes, she pushed open her door and stepped out, just in time to see Ran Jiu’s tall, slender figure. Ran Jiu had just entered the bathroom, turned on the light, but left the door open.

Hearing the sound of running water from the sink, Rong Ting instinctively stopped typing, thinking she should go out and ask if Ran Jiu wanted something to eat.

She walked to the bathroom door and saw Ran Jiu leaning over the sink, washing her face.

The cream-colored high-neck sweater emerged neatly from the collar, while the jeans perfectly accentuated her slender long legs against the dim yellow light. Her bare feet rested in slippers. Her hair, let down, was soft and carried a muted sheen, hanging loosely over her shoulders as she leaned forward.

Rong Ting now noticed that she possessed a strikingly delicate beauty—one that was neither aggressive nor overly polished, but carried a touch of languid grace.

Ran Jiu hadn’t worn makeup when she went out and was now washing her face with water. As she wiped it dry, she suddenly noticed someone at the doorway, and a faint crack appeared in her calm expression. “Are you a cat? You walk without a sound.”

Rong Ting lightly scratched her cheek. “Have you eaten dinner yet? I bought some instant noodles we can cook.”

Later, the two sat facing each other—one on the sofa, the other on a round stool—slurping noodles from their bowls.

The ingredients were simple: Rong Ting had added two poached eggs and a few leaves of greens, with a few drops of sesame oil. Yet Ran Jiu ate with evident relish.

Ran Jiu’s movements were elegant, but she ate quickly. In between bites, she spoke up unexpectedly, “I used to eat instant noodles often—several times a week in high school. I’ve practically tried every flavor out there.”

She smiled, a hint of playful pride flashing in her eyes. “So, whenever I decide to have instant noodles, I always think about which flavor to choose first.”

Rong Ting responded occasionally but preferred to observe her. Ran Jiu’s hand gripped the chopsticks high up, far from the tips, yet she wielded them with remarkable dexterity.

Remembering that such a person might be far from home, and recalling the hostel owner’s mention of her dropping out during her freshman year, Rong Ting couldn’t help but speculate further. “That makes sense. Opportunities to eat instant noodles are rare, after all. Your parents probably wouldn’t let you have them often.”

Ran Jiu’s movements paused briefly. Sensing this, Rong Ting worried she had already detected her curiosity and attempt to glean information, and she flushed with embarrassment.

But Ran Jiu simply continued eating, seemingly unbothered. “They don’t really care what I do.”

After the meal, Ran Jiu took the initiative to wash the pot. Rong Ting, feeling she had said something wrong and dampened the mood, returned to her room, opened her laptop, and resumed her homework.

After a while, two muffled knocks sounded against the doorframe. Rong Ting turned her head to see Ran Jiu holding a bottle of alcohol with unidentifiable packaging—only the amber liquid and Japanese labels were visible.

“Fruit wine. Low alcohol. Want to try?”

Rong Ting agreed readily. She had tried not just fruit wine but plenty of baijiu and beer too—this level of alcohol was nothing to her. In her old dorm, Chen Saiyu was the only one who often drank Jiangxiaobai with her, but after the atmosphere soured, they hadn’t shared drinks anymore.

Ran Jiu brought two glasses and poured one for her but remained standing at the doorway without entering.

The wine was sweet with a tangy aftertaste, refreshing to drink. Just as Rong Ting was about to invite her to sit wherever she liked, she noticed Ran Jiu’s gaze had drifted to her computer screen.

Normally, computer and phone screens were considered private—one should avert their eyes upon accidentally seeing them.

But Ran Jiu clearly had no such awareness. After studying the screensaver, she asked instead, “Do you like the Takarazuka Revue too?”

“Yes, I do,” Rong Ting replied. Her desktop wallpaper was a photo of Asumi Rio from one of the performances. The actors were dressed in layered, elaborate costumes, their makeup vibrant with pale faces and highlighter accents, though the image itself was somewhat unclear.

“Who’s your favorite?”

Rong Ting answered quickly, “Tomorrow, it’s Haruo and Yuzuka Hikari.”

Ran Jiu nodded thoughtfully, then uttered a string of incomprehensible Japanese. However, Rong Ting was surprised—based on the pronunciation, it seemed to be the names of the two people she had mentioned.

Rong Ting asked, “Do you speak Japanese?”

Ran Jiu slowly took a sip of her wine. “For work, just a little.”

She continued, “I prefer Amami. Her time in the troupe was short, so she has fewer classic works. But she still broke the record set by Masao Ōki, and the Takarazuka Revue gained a lot of fame because of her.”

Rong Ting clearly hadn’t expected to encounter a fan of such a niche theater troupe while renting a place, so she chatted with her for quite a while—from the famous male roles to the female roles in the Takarazuka Revue.

The retirement performance of Haruo still left Rong Ting feeling unsettled. She couldn’t help but sigh, “It feels like such a pity for her to retire so early. She still had so much left undone.”

Ran Jiu looked up. “Sometimes, stepping away early is a good thing. Because the more you obsess over something, the harder it is to achieve.”

When Rong Ting went to bed that night, the surroundings were quiet—far better than being fully equipped with an eye mask and earplugs in the dormitory.

She listened carefully to the room next door, but there was almost no sound. She thought of Ran Jiu’s light amber eyes, layered and complex. Though they didn’t seem gloomy, they always carried a hint of shadow.

Suddenly, someone sent her a message on WeChat—it was Chen Saiyu.

【Tingting, we need to discuss the layout issue. Are you coming?】

No matter how ugly things got, they still had to part ways gracefully. They were still in the same group, and Rong Ting had an unavoidable obligation.

She quickly replied, 【I’ll go.】

On their first day of co-renting, Rong Ting stayed up late due to homework and managed to exchange a few words with Ran Jiu. For the next several days, they hardly saw each other.

The reason wasn’t just that their schedules at home always clashed, but also that Ran Jiu was coming home later and later.

When Rong Ting left in the morning, Ran Jiu was still asleep. By the time Rong Ting fell asleep at night, Ran Jiu had just returned.

One afternoon, after finishing her classes and returning home, Rong Ting unexpectedly saw the person she hadn’t seen for days standing at the stairwell.

Golden sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on her face. She looked like an overexposed, distorted reflection—her delicate features almost diluted by the light.

As Rong Ting walked toward her, she opened her mouth to speak, but Ran Jiu suddenly flashed her a smile. “If you’re back, go on up. The sun is strong out here.” She said nothing more.

Instead, Rong Ting sensed a hint of urgency in her tone. She nodded silently, passed by her, and slowly walked into the hallway.

Just then, she heard a male voice outside the hallway—one that sounded somewhat familiar. She glanced back and realized it was the same boy who had hit her with a ball on the playground that day.

Ran Jiu’s voice was lazy and cold. “Did you bring it?”

The male voice replied that he had.

Standing on the first few steps of the staircase, Rong Ting couldn’t see clearly.

But she saw Ran Jiu’s eyes curve slightly as she casually took a small, packaged envelope from his hand, holding it lightly between two fingers.

Scattered fragments of their conversation drifted over.

“You’re still living here?”

“Yeah.”

“Alone?”

“No.”

“Who else is there?”

This time, Ran Jiu paused, as if thinking for a moment. “Someone I’m renting with.”

Rong Ting’s mood inexplicably sank. Though she still wanted to listen, she knew it wasn’t right. Shaking her head, she headed upstairs, only to suddenly hear a faint laugh from that direction.

Perhaps having heard something amusing, Ran Jiu seemed unaware as she tilted her head slightly. Her slender neckline flashed through the crack of the stairwell door, a stark, dazzling white.

Rong Ting reached the fourth floor, fumbled for her keys, and opened the door. Inside, the house was utterly silent. She returned to her bedroom and waited for a long time, but no one came back.

Sitting at her desk, she gazed out the window, hearing only the chirping of birds.

Ran Jiu had probably left with that person.