Chapter 14: Child

In the empty living room, her clear, low voice fell like plum-scented snow from a branch, fluttering to the ground, its tail note rising with a hint of ascetic sensuality.

Ji Huaqing’s back was to Gu Yining, so she didn’t see the waves stirring in those quiet eyes.

“This is your house. You can sleep wherever you like.”

Gu Yining smiled and followed her up to the second floor. Lu Xi and Ningning were both asleep. A small lamp lined the hallway, dimming the light, giving the night its tranquility.

They entered the room together. Gu Yining closed the door behind her. With a soft click, Ji Huaqing’s heart pounded in response.

Gu Yining had a towel draped over her. She tossed it at the bathroom door and went to the wardrobe to find clothes.

Ji Huaqing caught the glimmer of her snow-white skin and instinctively turned away. Gu Yining laughed at her: “Teacher Ji, you’re so old-fashioned. You blush at one glance. I’m letting you look, and I’m not blushing—why are you?”

“I…” Ji Huaqing was at a loss for words, as if cotton were stuck in her throat, and her chest felt equally clogged.

Gu Yining looked cold, an ascetic beauty. But Ji Huaqing knew that inside her bones lived a madwoman.

Gu Yining turned, her gaze lingering on Ji Huaqing’s face, circling entrancingly, looking at her with the same relish she might look at a beloved toy.

“You what?” Gu Yining’s laugh was cold.

“I…” Ji Huaqing drew a breath, lifted her head with difficulty, and clutched at her crumbling composure. “I’m not as… as open-minded as you all.”

“So that’s why you found a nightgown that covers you up so completely?” Gu Yining pointed at her neck with a pale finger. “Want me to get you a scarf to wrap around your neck too? You’re a modern person, not an ancient one. Look at the Tang style.”

Ji Huaqing felt uncomfortable under her gaze, her cheeks on fire, but she persisted: “Is that so? I care about setting an example as a teacher. What’s wrong with that?”

“Right, Teacher Ji is absolutely right.” Gu Yining laughed, her nose curling with lazy, teasing syllables.

The words “Teacher Ji” amplified the shame in Ji Huaqing’s heart. She felt that before Gu Yining, she was the elder, and she’d built an invisible gap between them.

That was why, hearing Gu Yining’s drunken confession, she’d refused without a second thought.

Gu Yining stopped bothering with her. She rummaged through the wardrobe and suddenly spotted the swimsuit she’d left on the bed. She froze, then found herself smiling.

Getting Ji Huaqing into a swimsuit—that was never going to happen.

She put the swimsuit back where it had been, took her pajamas, and went into the bathroom.

The bedroom fell suddenly quiet. A cool breeze blew in, and Ji Huaqing’s heart trembled violently. She looked up at the bathroom—and all at once, the bathroom glass gradually turned transparent…

She was stunned.

Was modern technology really this advanced?

The glass could be adjusted at will?

She looked in shock at the bathroom. In it, Gu Yining waved at her, a perfect smile curving her lips. Ji Huaqing’s face flushed again.

It was unbelievable. Gu Yining took the clip from her hair, letting the wavy locks spill down.

The moment her hair fell, Gu Yining flashed her a coaxing smile.

Ji Huaqing thought back to her own shower earlier. Had Gu Yining really seen her or not?

Wasn’t this glass one-way? How had it become two-way?

Ji Huaqing’s whole body burned, her fair neck flushing pink. She got up, walked to the bed, and turned her back to the bathroom, feeling as if she’d been set on fire.

The water echoed from the bathroom, as if she were inside it herself, water sliding past her feet, stirring a tingle of warmth and itch.

Ji Huaqing adjusted her mood and suppressed improper thoughts. It was just running water. If she didn’t look, nothing was there.

The water went on for a long time. Ji Huaqing’s feet ached from standing. The breeze felt hot. She wanted to turn on the air conditioning, stand at the vent, blow the heat away.

But the water never stopped—which meant Gu Yining was still showering, maybe using body wash, washing her whole body, taking longer.

She watched the stars until a silvery, pleasant laugh came from behind.

“Teacher Ji, you’ve stood there for half an hour. Don’t your legs hurt?”

Feeling teased, Ji Huaqing turned to snap at her. Her ears, which had only just calmed down, flamed red again. She paused, looking at the bathroom. The scene inside was fully visible.

She stared for a few seconds. Gu Yining looked at her with pity: “The switch to control the glass is inside.”

Which meant that when Ji Huaqing took her shower, Gu Yining truly hadn’t seen anything. She’d been flattering herself. Ji Huaqing blushed to her ears. Gu Yining smiled triumphantly. “Teacher Ji, you’re adorable.”

Teased by her own student, Ji Huaqing couldn’t utter a word. Gu Yining stepped forward, brushing past her shoulder, leaving a light fragrance behind.

The floor-to-ceiling window was closed, stilling the natural breeze. With a beep, the central air turned on, cold air blowing down from above.

“Teacher Ji, what temperature do you like? Twenty-six, constant—how’s that?” Gu Yining acted as if nothing had happened, asking Ji Huaqing’s opinion casually.

“Whatever.” Ji Huaqing felt like she’d fallen out of the world, like a helpless baby relying on Gu Yining for everything.

Frustrated, she lay down on her own. This time, Gu Yining was much more obedient, telling her, “This bed has a lot of gadgets. It can even raise up.”

At that, the woman who’d just lain down shot back up, examining the bed curiously.

“Play with it yourself. I’ll go sleep with Ningning. There’s a remote.” Gu Yining found the remote in a cabinet and handed it to Ji Huaqing. “Call me if you need anything. I’m right on the second floor.”

Suddenly, she was all rules and propriety, blinking earnestly as she handed over the remote.

Ji Huaqing took it. Looking at the modern remote, she didn’t want it. She asked, “If I don’t touch it, it won’t move on its own?”

“Of course not. You’re in control.” Gu Yining smiled, like she was dealing with a difficult client, showing her most proper side.

Ji Huaqing casually set it on the nightstand and sighed imperceptibly with relief. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Gu Yining’s pajamas—a deep V, defined collarbones, and what seemed like nothing underneath.

Just as she was wondering, Gu Yining turned and left, closing the bedroom door.

Only Ji Huaqing remained in the empty room.

Wearily, she lay down on the soft bed, sinking into it as if someone were cradling her limbs, easing the exhaustion from her whole body.

An inexplicable heat spread over her.

Early the next morning, Ji Huaqing woke according to her old routine. Seven o’clock.

She turned off the air conditioning, opened the window, and went downstairs. Gu Yining was running on the treadmill.

Ji Ningning sat at the table drinking milk—one sip, then a blank stare into space, then another sip. Auntie Wang kept urging her to hurry up. Unhurried, Ningning even hopped off her chair to greet Ji Huaqing.

“Good morning, Auntie Ji.”

“Good morning, Ningning.”

“Auntie Ji, your dress is so pretty.” Ningning grinned. After the compliment, she waited for Ji Huaqing to compliment her back.

Returning a kindness.

Ji Huaqing smiled, looking down at the white dress she wore. It was Gu Yining’s, and the size fit well, though it ran a little long—Gu Yining was taller, so the length was a bit off.

“Ningning, you’re very pretty too.”

The child, satisfied, returned to the table, picked up her milk, and took a big, happy gulp. “Mommy just said I was pretty too. I’m the prettiest little princess!”

“Oh, my little princess, hurry up! We’re out of time!” Auntie Wang was as flustered as an ant trapped in a maze.

Ji Huaqing pressed her lips together and smiled softly. In Ji Ningning, she could see the mischievous spirit of Gu Yining at seventeen or eighteen.

She watched for a moment. Auntie Wang called out, “Miss Ji, breakfast is ready. Eat some. Little Ning will be a while.”

At the mention of Gu Yining, the smile on Ji Huaqing’s face dimmed, and she unconsciously felt shy. Fortunately, the only ones present were a child and the nanny, so she quickly composed herself.

When she sat down, Ji Ningning pushed a sandwich in front of her. “Auntie Ji, eat this. Mommy made it.”

Gu Yining made it? Ji Huaqing was surprised. She took it and took a bite. It tasted good.

Auntie Wang went to the kitchen. Ji Ningning was dawdling again when Zhou Hui arrived, calling “little princess” from the entryway.

“Little princess, you’re going to be late. Why are you still eating?”

“I’m keeping Auntie Ji company. She just got here, so I have to look after the guest.” Ji Ningning said with total righteousness, even making a cute face at Ji Huaqing. “I’m taking Mommy’s place to keep you company.”

Ji Huaqing didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Zhou Hui changed into slippers with practiced ease, completely ignoring Ji Huaqing, and scooped up Ji Ningning.

“Auntie Wang, where’s her backpack? I’m taking her.”

“By the shoe cabinet, the shoe cabinet. Don’t forget her water bottle.” Auntie Wang’s voice came from the kitchen.

Zhou Hui carried Ji Ningning out. Before leaving, she gave Ji Huaqing a long, deep look and said, “Stay away from that lunatic. When she snaps, she doesn’t even value her own life. Your youth is only just beginning.”

With that, she was gone, carrying Ji Ningning.

Leaving Ji Huaqing utterly bewildered.

The lunatic—did that mean Gu Yining?

She took a mechanical bite of the sandwich. The dining room was silent; footsteps sounded from the stairs. She swallowed, reflexively, and turned to look.

Gu Yining wore a light-colored business suit, her hair pinned up with two strands loose in front, giving her a slightly disheveled beauty.

Compared to that deep-V, waist-hugging red dress, this showed a more capable, colder side.

Gu Yining walked over, brushing past her. She looked at the chaotic table and cleared away the milk Ji Ningning had half-finished, plus the sandwich with two bites taken.

She came out of the kitchen carrying two plates of fried eggs, handing one to Ji Huaqing.

“Whose child is Ji Ningning? She looks a little familiar to me.” Ji Huaqing looked at the composed, graceful Gu Yining. The question in her heart was ready to burst out.

The dining room lights were on, shadows and light interwoven, falling across Gu Yining’s exquisite features.

Gu Yining paused mid-reach for her chopsticks, looked up, and met her gaze seriously. “Who do you think she looks like?”

“Her eyes and brows look like mine.”

“So, did you give birth to her?” Gu Yining calmly looked at the woman across from her and unconsciously curved her lips in a thin, cold smile.

Ji Huaqing’s motion halted. Dragged into the gutter by the question, she retorted without thinking: “Did I give birth to her?”