Chapter 24: Sleeping in the same room with my love rival
Scenic Hotel, 4A Resort.
The car wound through the suburbs for over two hours, city streets giving way to green hills and clear lakes. Lu Qingqi leaned against the window, silent. Liu Wangjiang stared ahead, focused. Only Mother Liu’s chatter about spring scenery filled the car.
They stopped at a lakeside hotel backed by mountains, its ancient architecture adorned with swaying red lanterns. Lu Qingqi snapped out of his daze, the early spring breeze refreshing as he stepped out.
Mother Liu headed to check in. Lu Qingqi scanned the serene surroundings when a voice called, “Master Lu.”
He turned to see Tao Cheng, arm around his girlfriend, Chen Tianwen. “Tao Cheng? You’re here too?” Lu Qingqi grinned, surprised. “Spring outing?”
“Yeah, nice weather. Brought Tianwen out,” Tao Cheng said, patting his shoulder. He glanced at Mother Liu and Wangjiang, then back. “You? Friends?”
Before Lu Qingqi could answer, a figure behind Tao Cheng caught his eye. His heart skipped—Bai Yuanxue, in a light dress, hair loosely tied, smiling faintly. Her smile froze when she saw him.
“Xue’er?” Lu Qingqi stepped forward, voice tinged with shock. “Why’re you here? Weren’t you busy with art?”
Her eyes flickered, but she recovered, taking Tianwen’s arm. “Got tired of being cooped up. Tianwen mentioned a spring outing, so I tagged along for inspiration.”
Tianwen nodded, but the air felt heavy, awkward.
Mother Liu returned with room cards, patting Lu Qingqi’s arm. “Little Lu, rooms are set. Let’s drop off luggage.” She glanced curiously at Yuki and the others.
Lu Qingqi introduced them. “Godmother, this is my girlfriend, Bai Yuanxue. Mentioned her before. These are my friends, Tao Cheng and Chen Tianwen.” To them, he said, “This is my godmother, uh…” He faltered, realizing he didn’t know her full name.
“Call me Aunt Liu,” she chuckled. “I’m Liu Jiao’e, took my husband’s name.”
They exchanged greetings. Liu Jiao’e urged Lu Qingqi to the rooms. He shot Yuki a questioning look; she met his eyes briefly before looking away.
The suspicion of her betrayal gnawed harder.
But his focus shifted when Liu Jiao’e dropped a bomb. “What? I’m sharing a room with Liu Wangjiang?”
Father Liu was stowing luggage, and Liu Jiao’e led Lu Qingqi to his room, where Wangjiang waited, purple eyes glinting.
“Lots of spring travelers, so I got two rooms, double beds,” Liu Jiao’e said, pinching Lu Qingqi’s cheek playfully. “Don’t fuss, just boys sharing a bed.”
Lu Qingqi opened his mouth, then pulled her to a corridor corner, away from Wangjiang, whispering, “Godmother, you know we don’t get along. You want to fix things, but sharing a room? What if we fight?”
“Don’t worry, Xiao Luzi. If he touches you, I’ll handle him,” she said, raising a fist.
“What if I hit him?”
She laughed. “You? Short and skinny? Wangjiang would pin you to the bed and make you cry.”
Lu Qingqi: …Thanks for the honesty, Godmother.
Unable to sway her, he grudgingly followed Wangjiang into the room with one double bed.
At dinner, the hotel restaurant buzzed. Tao Cheng’s group sat at the next table. Lu Qingqi glanced over; Yuki was talking to Tao Cheng, her profile soft under the warm light, but distant.
Liu Jiao’e interrupted, piling his bowl with food. “Xiao Luzi, eat veggies for vitamins. You’re so short, almost girly. You need nutrients.”
His mouth twitched at the broccoli in his bowl—his childhood nemesis. Before he could act, a bony hand darted out.
Wangjiang plucked the broccoli with chopsticks and tossed it into the trash, swift and precise.
Lu Qingqi froze. Liu Jiao’e paused, chopsticks mid-air.
“Mom, Qingqi doesn’t like broccoli,” Wangjiang said flatly.
Lu Qingqi stared at his cleared bowl, a thought sparking: How did he know?
After dinner, the bathroom door clicked open, steam billowing. Wangjiang emerged in a dark bathrobe, wet hair clinging to his forehead, softening his usual coldness into a lazy allure.
His eyes swept the bed and stopped. Lu Qingqi sat cross-legged on one side, engrossed in his phone, wearing loose SpongeBob pajamas that draped to his thighs. His ear-length hair framed his fair face, tender as a peeled egg. His slender frame, slightly hunched shoulders, and subtle neckline curve made him look less like a boy and more like a lively tomboy.
Wangjiang’s eyes darkened, his Adam’s apple bobbing.