Outside the window, the night fog was dense, rain falling like fine threads.
The brilliantly lit Yuning City was segmented by water droplets, ink-black and gold intertwining, like a watercolor painting dyed with vivid colors.
Gu Yu lingered by the window. The glass reflected her face, and beside her slowly materialized Jiang Bomu’s visage, smiling as she said, “Happy cohabitation, Teacher Gu.”
Just a teasing remark, yet she had already savored it repeatedly.
The rain intensified, the curtain of rain like mist. A faint flash, closely followed by a rumble—lightning tore across the sky.
Before the love story imagined in her mind could transform into a horror film, Gu Yu hit the brakes just in time. She turned and half-lay on the bed, picking up her phone.
Just then, a video call came in from her mom. Gu Yu answered. Before she could speak, the other end started with lingering fear: “Finally picked up! You scared me to death, I’ve called you three times already!”
“I wasn’t looking at my phone just now,” Gu Yu hurriedly explained. “Mom, I’m fine.”
“That’s good, that’s good,” Yu Qing relaxed considerably and asked with a smile, “How is it over there? Are you settling in okay?”
Gu Yu switched the camera, showing her the room’s layout while saying, “Pretty good. Sister Jiang treats me very well.”
Today had truly been pleasant, especially after Jiang Bomu said that “Happy cohabitation.”
Gu Yu was thankful the camera wasn’t facing her now, otherwise it would have faithfully recorded her blissful daze.
After chatting idly with her mom for a bit, Gu Yu reminded her to be careful tomorrow.
Tomorrow, her parents were heading to Switzerland. It was a romantic place Gu Yu had always longed to visit. Pity she couldn’t go this time, but she wasn’t regretful. Compared to Jiang Bomu, what did this count for?
Switzerland could be visited anytime, but cohabiting with Jiang Bomu—a rare opportunity not to be missed.
Hanging up the call, a new WeChat message immediately popped up.
Tao Tao: 【Teacher Gu, are you asleep?】
Accompanied by an adorable sticker of a cat poking its head out.
Gu Yu replied instantly: 【Not yet.】
Tao Tao excitedly: 【I knew you were a night owl too!】
Gu Yu chuckled and chatted with her a bit about anime.
Tao Tao’s favorite character was Menma (Honma Meiko). As it happened, Gu Yu had also seen that anime. The chat screen kept showing “The other party is typing…”, presumably drafting the character details. Gu Yu thought for a moment, grabbed her tablet, and drew a chibi version.
A starry-eyed Menma, hugging a fresh, juicy peach, rubbed against it with a face full of bliss.
Tao Tao had already sent over the detailed settings. Gu Yu glanced them over briefly, then hit send on the image.
The other end went silent for two seconds. Then came a voice message louder than the thunder outside: 【AAAAHHHH I LOVE YOU MA’AM!!!】
Tao Tao immediately swapped it for her WeChat profile picture and even posted on WeChat Moments—See the peach in Menma’s arms? That’s me, that’s totally me!
Gu Yu laughed, once again finding her incredibly cute.
Then came the bombardment—a five-hundred-character mini-essay of gushing praise from Tao Tao.
She had to call a halt, jesting: 【I think being an assistant is a waste of your talents. You could totally manage the studio’s Weibo.】
Tao Tao took it seriously: 【Great idea, I’ll go ask Miss Mu for a promotion and raise right now.】
Then, flustered again: 【Almost forgot, I still haven’t pushed Miss Mu’s WeChat contact to you!】
Before Gu Yu could react, Jiang Bomu’s WeChat card quietly lay in their chat window.
The profile picture was a silhouette of someone watching the sunset, very atmospheric. Gu Yu recognized at a glance it was Jiang Bomu herself. Her gaze moved right, to her nickname—sunset.
Sunset.
Gu Yu stared blankly at this little digital business card.
As Director Qiao’s granddaughter, she actually had many opportunities to add Jiang Bomu on WeChat.
But what would they talk about after adding her?
“Hello, I’m Gu Yu.”
“Hello.”
And then nothing more.
So she’d rather remain a stranger than become an inconsequential person on WeChat.
She held a conviction deep in her heart: eventually, they would meet at the summit.
By then, Jiang Bomu would be a big star with a brilliant career path, and she would be shining brilliantly in some other field.
But since fate had now arranged for them to live under the same roof, she wouldn’t stand on ceremony.
She tapped the contact card and sent a friend request.
Another message came from Tao Tao: 【My friend’s asking me to play Honor of Kings. Does Ma’am want to join?】
Gu Yu wasn’t in the mood for games. She declined and said goodnight, then browsed yesterday’s livestream replay she hadn’t had time to watch while waiting. But the friend request remained unaccepted.
Gu Yu felt a bit puzzled. Could she have forgotten to note her name?
She went back to the contact card, carefully typed her full name, double-checked it, and hit send again.
Still, it sank like a stone into the ocean.
Her eyes unintentionally glanced at the time—eleven o’clock.
Gu Yu froze. She’d almost forgotten what Tao Tao had said—Jiang Bomu slept very early.
The person in question had long since entered dreamland, leaving her here getting all worked up for nothing.
Gu Yu laughed at her own foolishness and continued watching the replay. Finally, around half past midnight, she felt sleepy. Before turning off the phone, she forced her heavy eyelids open to set an alarm for seven o’clock, then out of habit, closed her eyes and opened WeChat.
A night of dreamless sleep.
When the harsh alarm pierced her eardrums, Gu Yu frowned and turned it off. The phone recognized her face and unlocked automatically. A new WeChat message popped up.
She instinctively tapped it, then immediately jolted fully awake, instantly sitting upright.
“I have accepted your friend request. We can start chatting now.”
The acceptance time was 05:17.
She woke up so early!
No more lazing in bed. Gu Yu put down her phone, headed straight for the wardrobe, picked out a knee-length floral dress and put it on. Reaching over, she pulled the curtains open.
Sunlight flooded in, a baking warmth. Last night’s thunderstorm had left no trace, retreating silently.
Gu Yu practiced her smile a few times in the full-length mirror, making sure it was sunny and energetic enough, then finally opened the door.
The first sound hitting her eardrums was the sizzling of oil in a pan. Immediately after, the aroma of eggs frying, which had been building for seconds, invaded her nostrils, impossible to ignore.
She lifted her head. Jiang Bomu, her hair tied in a low ponytail, was busy at the frying pan. A lock of hair slipped from her temple, bathed in a faint halo of light. Even her coolly indifferent profile seemed to hold a trace of gentleness.
Yesterday’s dazzling star, adored by thousands, today was cooking a simple meal just for her.
Gu Yu stood motionless for a long time.
As if hearing the door open, Jiang Bomu flipped the fried egg before sparing her a glance and said, somewhat surprised, “Awake so early?”
Gu Yu snapped back to reality and replied with a perfectly straight face, “I’m used to going to bed and getting up early.”
Stepping forward, she said with a grin, “Good morning, Sister!”
The young girl before her had a radiant smile. Jiang Bomu looked at her a couple more times before returning the “Morning.”
She transferred the fried egg to a plate, then seemed to remember something and said, enunciating slowly, “Sleepless Tonight?”
Gu Yu paused briefly, her face heating up.
She was reading out her WeChat nickname. Right after claiming she slept early, she was instantly caught.
Gu Yu cleared her throat and explained calmly, “From today onwards, I’ll definitely go to bed early and get up early.”
Although it was a bit embarrassing, she actually remembered her nickname! Amidst the awkwardness, Gu Yu felt a flutter of delight. She moved forward to help, reaching to carry the fried egg to the dining table.
Jiang Bomu immediately extended a hand to shield the plate, saying, “Go wash up first.”
Gu Yu had already reached out her hand and, caught off guard, touched the back of her hand—smooth, soft, and warm.
Before she could react, the ceramic plate made a “screech” sound on the countertop as Jiang Bomu pushed it away slightly.
Gu Yu’s hand hung in mid-air, seemingly still retaining the unique sensation of that touch.
Her gaze involuntarily fell upon the delicate hand—slender and beautiful, like touchable, warm white jade, the very “green onion jade fingers” praised by the ancients.
She averted her eyes, mumbled a quiet acknowledgment, and without a single glance at Jiang Bomu, hurried to the bathroom.
The woman in her mirror had a face like dawn clouds, her chest heaving unsteadily.
Gu Yu turned on the faucet and resignedly splashed her face with a handful of cold water. A chill arose, finally quenching some of the heat.
She’d only touched her hand, yet she had such a huge reaction.
But Jiang Bomu’s reaction seemed significant too. After all, she was the one who pulled away first.
A bold guess surfaced in Gu Yu’s mind: Could it be… she wasn’t entirely straight either?
She somewhat regretted bolting off immediately. If only she could have seen the expression on her face then.
Overthinking was useless. Gu Yu sighed. After washing up, she spent a long time building up her mental fortitude before venturing out again.
Jiang Bomu was no longer in the kitchen. She was sitting at the long table, which held bread, fried eggs, two bowls of porridge, and a glass of milk—all untouched.
She had been waiting specifically for her.
Warmth filled Gu Yu’s heart. She sat down opposite her.
Jiang Bomu asked, “Breakfast is quite simple. What would you like for lunch?”
As Gu Yu reached for the bread, she secretly lifted her gaze to observe Jiang Bomu’s expression. But she seemed not to be bothered by that little interlude at all, calmly and elegantly taking a spoonful of purple sweet potato porridge.
Perhaps it was simply a matter of hygiene.
Her soaring hopes were doused with ice water.
“Anything’s fine,” Gu Yu answered. “Sister, don’t worry, I’m easy to feed, not a picky eater.”
Her expression softening, Jiang Bomu said, “Good. In the future, just tell me if there’s anything you want to eat, and I’ll do my best to make it.”
Gu Yu blinked lightly and spared no effort in her praise: “Sister is so amazing! I can only make instant noodles. Later on, Sister, can you teach me too?”
Jiang Bomu’s spoon paused for a split second mid-scoop before landing in the bowl. She looked up, her expression returning to normal, and agreed with a light smile.
Gu Yu ate a mouthful of fried egg with immense satisfaction. Wouldn’t learning to cook be a perfect way to close the distance between them?
Speaking of learning, it suddenly struck her—the condition for her cohabitation with Jiang Bomu. So she asked when they would start the painting lessons.
Jiang Bomu said, “No rush. Let’s get familiar with each other first. The days ahead are long.”
Gu Yu nodded silently, drinking her porridge. Actually, I already know you very well, she thought.
But indeed, the days ahead were long.
The central air conditioning delivered a pleasant, comfortable cool breeze. Grinning, Gu Yu finished her last bite of bread. Satisfied, she glanced at the time and stood up, saying, “I’m done. Sister, enjoy the rest of your meal.”
Her parents would be boarding soon; she wanted to call them.
“Wait.”
Jiang Bomu’s voice came from behind, like jade striking stone, resonating clear and crisp in her heart.
Gu Yu’s heart pounded like a drum. She turned back instinctively.
The other woman said, “Drink your milk.”
Then, after a pause, her tone was like coaxing a child, laced with a hint of indulgence.
“Little kids still need to grow, you know.”
