After Marrying the Cold and Elegant Beauty, I Fell in Love (GL) - Chapter 21.2

Long Aodi understood. It seemed Han Shuangshuang wasn’t favored at home, and everyone knew her biological mother was dead; she and Ruhua were half-sisters.

Therefore, Han Shuangshuang’s threats were just empty words.

As long as he could catch evidence of Han Shuangshuang and Shen Yuru together, Han’s father would be furious, and Shen Yuru would be ridiculed. Then, he would step in to block the rumors for her. She would surely be moved.

Han Ruhua stared straight at Long Aodi. “Senior, can I buy you a coffee?”

Long Aodi looked her over, thinking she might still be useful. He nodded gently. “Of course. If there’s anything you don’t understand, just ask. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Han Shuangshuang followed Shen Yuru back to her residence.

Shen Yuru took out a pair of disposable slippers and placed them before her. Han Shuangshuang didn’t dare let her “serve” her and immediately took them.

She looked around.

The decor was just like Shen Yuru’s personality: gloomy. The curtains were drawn tight, letting in no sunlight, and there was a faint scent of a place that hadn’t been lived in for a while.

But it wasn’t unpleasant.

After putting on the slippers, the first thing Han Shuangshuang did was go to the window and pull back the curtains, letting the sunlight flood in.

Shen Yuru, unaccustomed to it, shielded her eyes from the stinging light. She watched the sunlight bathe Han Shuangshuang, who was looking at her with that mindless puppy smile.

Shen Yuru felt like something strange had suddenly burst into her established world. But she didn’t hate or reject it.

Gurgle…

Han Shuangshuang’s stomach let out a loud sound.

“Sister Shen, I’m so hungry! Is there anything to eat?”

Shen Yuru pointed toward the kitchen and sat on the sofa. “The kitchen is there. The fridge is inside. you can cook something or order takeout—though I won’t be reimbursing you for that.”

Shen Yuru sat on the sofa with her eyes closed to rest, easing the exhaustion from last night. After all the “labor” of the night, that strange sensation still lingered. She didn’t think Han Shuangshuang knew how to cook anyway.

Han Shuangshuang walked to the fridge. Opening it, she found only three eggs, two sausages, two frozen chicken breasts, and some wilted carrots and onions. There was half a bag of rice.

She started the rice, washed the vegetables, and decided to make a simple egg-fried rice. She even followed her “puppy instincts” to find an apron and put it on.

Looking at the large kitchen, her mood soared. She had always had an inexplicable love for kitchens. In her original world, the kitchen was a luxury—someone else’s family wasn’t wealthy, and her presence there usually meant she was “stealing” food. She had always wanted a huge, clean kitchen filled with the aroma of food and sunlight.

Shen Yuru’s house was a large duplex. The bedroom was on the second floor; the first floor held the living room and kitchen. Though the furniture was simple and the color palette grey, white, and black, two stubborn cacti on the windowsill added a splash of green and life.

Shen Yuru, rubbing her temples, heard the clattering and sizzling from the kitchen. Curious, she walked over.

She only stayed here occasionally. The villa her parents left was filled with sad memories and relatives who visited with disgusting smiles. So she moved to the dorms, but the people there were bribed to go through her things. Thus, she found this new place.

She didn’t dare leave important things in the villa or the dorms. She had endured the roommates to catch the “big fish” behind them. She hadn’t expected Han Shuangshuang to burst in and stand up for her.

Shen Yuru leaned lazily against the kitchen doorframe, her waist-length black hair draped over her shoulders. Her eyes held an air of lazy, noble arrogance—the perfect image of a “Queen” archetype.

She was surprised to see the “Great Miss Han” actually cooking—and doing it skillfully. You can judge a cook’s skill by their knife work. Han Shuangshuang cut the carrots into strips and then into cubes with fluid, practiced motions. She discarded the wilted leaves and kept the hearts of the greens.

Most impressively, she even tossed the pan while frying the rice. Each step was precise, organized, and calm. Soon, the aroma of egg-fried rice filled the air.

Shen Yuru felt her fingers—the ones that had rubbed Han’s earlobe—itch again, as if they should be holding something soft. She didn’t realize she had been staring for a while, and her feet moved toward Han Shuangshuang of their own accord.

“I never imagined the arrogant Miss Han could do something like this.”

Han Shuangshuang, focused on her cooking, jumped at the sudden sound of Shen Yuru’s voice. Good lord, what a classic ‘Mary Sue’ line.

“It’s just ordinary fried rice. A hungry person can do anything. What’s so strange about it? You gave me a fright.”

Han Shuangshuang had a habit of washing the dishes immediately after cooking; she hated piles of dirty plates and a greasy kitchen. So after the rice was done, she didn’t turn around, but stayed busy rinsing the sink and plates. The sound of running water drowned out Shen Yuru’s footsteps, so she didn’t realize how close the woman was.

Shen Yuru stood with arms crossed, staring darkly at the back of Han’s head.

Was Han Shuangshuang just that good at faking it, or did the Han and Shen clans send someone “stupid” to gain her trust? A person can fake gentleness, but they can’t fake every detail. Eventually, the mask slips.

But she had been watching her for a long time. Last night, Han Shuangshuang had stayed sober and hadn’t forced her; she seemed genuinely focused on “serving” her. Whenever Shen Yuru couldn’t figure something out, she became obsessed. Right now, she couldn’t understand: why was Han Shuangshuang treating her like this?

Everyone has a motive. What was hers? Was it really just that shallow reason—that she was “beautiful”?

Shen Yuru asked softly behind her, “Is my beauty enough for you to do all this so willingly and without regret?”

Han Shuangshuang, finishing the last plate, didn’t hear clearly. “For beauty? Willingly?”

“Never mind,” Shen Yuru said to herself.

Han Shuangshuang was still a member of the Han family. Since the Han and Shen relatives had reached an agreement, Han Shuangshuang was involved regardless. In that case, she might as well discover what value she could extract from her. They want to use her to get to me? Then I’ll use a ‘counter-scheme’ to make her serve me willingly.

The thought made her feel enlightened. The earlier irritation vanished.

And even if she didn’t want to admit it, contact with Han Shuangshuang truly made her feel better physically. For now, having the girl around had no downsides. She also wanted to see which level of contact had the greatest effect on her heart.

Memories of last night flooded back; Shen Yuru’s face reddened, and she coughed lightly to regain her composure.

Han Shuangshuang finished cleaning, wiped her forehead with her arm, and picked up the fried rice to head to the living room. She turned around and crashed right into Shen Yuru.

She jumped again, and quite a bit of fried rice spilled onto Shen Yuru’s shirt. Yellow oil stains appeared on the white silk-like fabric.

They were a similar height, with Han Shuangshuang being just a bit taller. She could see Shen Yuru’s expression without looking up. Shen Yuru looked a bit spaced out, as if her presence there was subconscious. She didn’t look angry.

[System: Friendly Reminder: You haven’t increased the heart healing today. Seize the chance!]

Han Shuangshuang didn’t care about that. In her original world, she had lived a hard life and never wasted food. With so much rice spilled, she wasn’t even sure she’d be full. She didn’t want to waste money on takeout.

“Sister Shen, why do you keep appearing behind people? It’s scary. Look, the rice is on the floor—what a waste.”

Han Shuangshuang pouted, though she didn’t dare speak too loudly. Her gaze then fell on Shen Yuru’s shirt. It was the same one from yesterday, ironed and smooth. But because of last night, two buttons were missing. The collar was wide open, revealing her collarbones—the business shirt had become a deep V-neck.

Some fried rice was on the shirt, and a few heavy carrot cubes had accidentally rolled inside.

Judging by the spotless house, Shen Yuru likely had mysophobia. The furniture and kitchen were dust-free, meaning she had it cleaned regularly. This trait suited a “moody villain” archetype.

Han Shuangshuang set the rice aside and grabbed some tissues to wipe the shirt, but she didn’t know where to start. She looked troubled.

“Sister Shen, why don’t you take the shirt off and let me wash it?”

While Han’s hands were hovering awkwardly, Shen Yuru suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. They were so close they could feel each other’s breath. Han Shuangshuang could see the fine peach fuzz on her face and her own reflection in those phoenix eyes.

Shen Yuru’s expression grew heavier, her eyes filled with an unreadable emotion. “The clothes being dirty doesn’t matter. But you’ve made me dirty—how do you plan to take responsibility?”

“W-what…” Han Shuangshuang almost bit her tongue.

What kind of talk is that from a villain? It’s too easy to misunderstand!

Seeing her panicked expression, Shen Yuru’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “What do you think I mean? You haven’t forgotten yesterday already, have you? You didn’t think you could brush me off with a bowl of fried rice, did you?”

“But… didn’t you say you didn’t need me to take responsibility? And the ‘payment’ was settled.”

Han Shuangshuang said this with a trembling chin, but seeing Shen Yuru’s face darken, she immediately changed her tune. “O-of course, the fault is mine! I’m the cause of everything. I was just afraid of making it difficult for you, so I followed your lead.”

Shen Yuru gripped her wrist tighter. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t break free easily. Shen Yuru exerted a powerful pressure, stepping forward one pace at a time, forcing Han Shuangshuang to retreat.

Finally, Han’s lower back hit the kitchen counter. There was nowhere left to go, yet Shen Yuru kept pressing in. Han Shuangshuang kept her head down, avoiding those eyes.

A faint fragrance mixed with the scent of fried rice filled her nose. Shen Yuru leaned into her ear and whispered, “Since you know it’s your fault and you’ve made me dirty… then wash me clean.”

Han Shuangshuang actually bit her tongue this time, wincing in pain. One eye open, one shut, she caught a glimpse of the view beneath the shirt.

“H-how do I wash you?” she slurred.

“Wash whatever is dirty, of course. To prove your sincerity, I’ll have to see how clean you get me.”

The kitchen was filled with sunlight and heat. Between the stuffiness and Shen Yuru’s confusing words, Han Shuangshuang felt like she was burning up.

[System: Host, are you a blockhead? This is intimate contact! A great chance to heal her. She’s approaching you voluntarily—say yes!]

While speaking, Shen Yuru’s other hand moved down. Her slender fingers felt like slippery loaches as they moved along Han’s waistline and… pulled the 100,000 Yuan check out of her pocket.

Han Shuangshuang: “…?”

Shen Yuru: “If you don’t wash me clean, I’m taking this check back.”

They were so close they could hear each other breathe. The atmosphere was too ambiguous for Han Shuangshuang to handle. The cold villain couldn’t possibly be… seducing me? She shook the thought away.

With a red face, she looked at Shen Yuru with puppy eyes. “Don’t worry. Laundry, cooking, serving people—I’m the best at it.”

Seeing her forced compliance, Shen Yuru’s smirk widened. She raised a thumb and rubbed it against Han’s lip. So easy to trick. Then she turned and headed for the bathroom, tossing her stained shirt into the hamper.

Han Shuangshuang, like a steaming kettle, followed her with a beet-red face. The bathroom was large, dry, and filled with sunlight. It had a separate shower and bathtub, and a full-length mirror by the door.

Entering, she saw Shen Yuru already prepared, lying comfortably in the bathtub. The water covered her lightly, leaving nothing to the imagination.

She raised a jade-like arm to brush back her hair, then narrowed her eyes at Han. Her eyes were rimmed with red, looking seductive beneath her cold aura.

“Come here. Be gentle; I don’t like being hurt.”