Time flowed silently. Before it sank into the prosperous dusk, waves crashed rhythmically, carrying a damp aura. The condensing autumn dew drew ever nearer in the feeble daylight.
Zhao Chiyun was stunned by the question. She looked into her eyes and slowly rose to her feet.
She didn’t answer right away—not out of guilt or displeasure, but because she hadn’t yet figured out why the question had come up. She simply gave herself a moment to think.
Hearing the hoarse, feeble tone in Gan Xun’s voice after waking, she walked around the bed to the water bar, grabbed a bottle of water, and came back. “I…”
In the next second, Gan Xun cut in first. “I was just asking casually. It’s fine if there’s nothing to it.”
She had already preemptively forgiven her.
Zhao Chiyun, who hadn’t planned to dwell on it much, let out a chuckle and handed the water to Gan Xun. “Just casually asking?”
Gan Xun twisted off the cap and took a sip. Her throat felt much better, and the irritability that had built up since smelling the unfamiliar scent on Zhao Chiyun gradually faded.
“Mm.”
She said to Zhao Chiyun, “I wanted to explain. A couple days ago at the airport, when I called to ask if you wanted coffee, she happened to pass by and overheard your name. She’s very perceptive and started probing me about you. When I didn’t cooperate, she was in a rush, so she tried to add my contact first.”
Zhao Chiyun curved her eyes in a smile. “What a coincidence. Mirror City’s sprawl looks endless from the sky, yet you two keep running into each other.”
What coincidence with her? Gan Xun grumbled inwardly. She’d rather never have met her. But whatever—thinking that way wasn’t fair to Zhao Chiyun.
“At the time, I thought she was weird and didn’t like her tone when she talked to me, so I said… I didn’t need to tell her my girlfriend’s name. I didn’t add her contact.”
She glanced at her expression and saw no change, so Gan Xun relaxed and continued. “It wasn’t intentional back then. I never imagined you two might know each other, or I would’ve told her.”
“I only called you my girlfriend to brush her off quickly. I didn’t think we’d ever be in touch again. I didn’t expect her to be an acquaintance of yours. I don’t know if what I said caused you any trouble.”
“What do you mean by trouble?” Zhao Chiyun asked immediately.
The waves persisted in flooding into the building, bringing the salty, sun-warmed dampness.
Seeing Gan Xun a bit distracted, Zhao Chiyun spoke first. “I did ask her how she found me. She said she overheard my name at the airport while passing by. It might not have been certain, but she had a strong hunch, so she had someone look into it.”
“She just happened to come here?”
“No, she came all the way from Mirror City specifically today. She’s leaving first thing tomorrow morning.”
Specifically rushing over.
Eager to confirm if it was really her, not even willing to wait an extra day.
Zhao Chiyun pressed, “You still haven’t told me why you’re worried about troubling me.”
Gan Xun got out of bed and stretched her waist. The nap had left her body feeling heavy all over.
Then she said understandingly to Zhao Chiyun, “Because, well, relationships are private. I’m not sure if you wanted her to know we’re dating.”
Zhao Chiyun nodded as if half-understanding. “You can be sure now. Of course I told her.”
Gan Xun paused, unable to resist asking, “What was her reaction?”
After thinking, Zhao Chiyun shook her head. “We talked about a lot, and when it came up, she didn’t have much of a reaction. She just asked about our situation as usual.”
That was pretty abnormal.
Zhao Chiyun had her own theory. “To be honest, she has traditional views and used to really dislike same-sex relationships. Maybe she felt uncomfortable hearing it and was unhappy with me but didn’t want to argue during our reunion, so she glossed over it.”
“I see.”
Gan Xun wanted to ask just how much she disliked it.
But she couldn’t bring herself to say it, afraid of reopening old wounds from the unrequited love she’d suffered at that person’s hands.
“If she treats you coldly, don’t take it to heart. You can think of her as my Big Sister. Seeing me confess something so unconventional, she naturally wouldn’t be pleased.”
With that, Zhao Chiyun smiled carelessly. “Those with different principles cannot plot together, but I won’t yield either.”
“We’re on the same path,” Gan Xun summed up.
The gloom that had shrouded her all afternoon lifted considerably.
Zhao Chiyun wrapped an arm around her waist, gazing at her expression. Her eyes shimmered as she smiled brightly. “We’ve even shared a bed—how could our paths not align?”
Gan Xun asked, “Are you flirting with me? Which star sign loves doing that?”
“It has nothing to do with star signs.”
Zhao Chiyun leaned in and pecked her lips. “It has to do with love.”
Gan Xun was utterly enchanted. She pulled her into an embrace on the sofa, kissing the one who claimed she wouldn’t yield, her heart full of infatuation.
Flashes of their first meeting, their flirtations, and the process of confirming their feelings crossed her mind—met with responses, stirred, as if drawing out even more love.
An unfamiliar scent lingered around Zhao Chiyun’s collar—elegant and long-lasting, making Gan Xun feel dull and bland by comparison.
Gan Xun didn’t like it much, so she helped her take off her top.
She paused when she saw several deep marks below her collarbone, not yet faded. Suddenly feeling guilty, she didn’t go further.
Zhao Chiyun was still dazed, seemingly unprepared to find her clothes gone. She looked down and said to Gan Xun, “Your handiwork.”
Gan Xun undid her own clothes to show her. “Aren’t you the one who returns courtesies?”
A smile bloomed on her face, and Zhao Chiyun leaned over to hug her, murmuring, “Don’t even try. It can’t compare.”
“Are you cold?” Gan Xun asked.
“A little.”
“Go take a shower. I’ll have dinner delivered to the room.”
Zhao Chiyun gave her a deep look.
Gan Xun flushed. She hadn’t meant it that way—she just didn’t want Zhao Chiyun to put that shirt back on. But she didn’t deny it.
Zhao Chiyun didn’t refuse. She grabbed some clothes and went to wash up.
Gan Xun slipped on a robe and sat on the sofa, lost in thought.
Zhao Chiyun was completely open with her—the intimacy in her words, the passion in her kisses—all told Gan Xun that nothing unexpected had happened today.
She’d just met an old friend and had afternoon tea with her. That was it.
By the time Zhao Chiyun finished her shower, Gan Xun had ordered the meal. While waiting, they picked an artsy film and watched while eating.
With thirty minutes left in the movie, Zhao Chiyun’s phone rang. Gan Xun jumped like a startled bird, instantly guessing who it was.
She hit pause, as if halting the entire sea and her own heartbeat.
She didn’t deliberately eavesdrop on what Zhao Chiyun said, nor could she hear the waves outside anymore. She stared at the frozen screen, zoning out.
The scene was an old-century street alley—crowded, chaotic, disorderly. Yet it wasn’t rundown or desolate. With one press of play, wild, untamed background music would fill the streets.
Bringing upward vitality, unbound by rules.
After the call, Zhao Chiyun told Gan Xun, “Shu Tang’s here. She wants me to come down. Together?”
Gan Xun didn’t react much. She said flatly, “You go. I’m afraid she has more private words for you.”
Zhao Chiyun nodded without much thought. “I’ll be right back.”
“Why did she come over?”
Gan Xun suddenly asked, her eyes still on the screen.
Zhao Chiyun said, “She has something to give me, so she came.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Gan Xun had forgotten to ask when she got back. It only occurred to her while Zhao Chiyun was showering. She’d thought they could talk slowly later—tonight was their last night here, better spent on meaningful things.
She hadn’t expected even this short time to be interrupted.
Gan Xun glanced at the clock. Eight at night. What had to be delivered right then?
“What I mean is, why did she come from Mirror Country with you?”
Zhao Chiyun looked puzzled that she was asking this now but soon calmed down and sat back beside Gan Xun.
She replied patiently, “After I finished paying respects at the temple and was heading back to the city, she came to meet me. We dodged into a lake together. There was no choice—we’d have been hacked if we didn’t jump into the river. She was a better swimmer than me. She said she tried to find me, swam for a long time without catching me, and then lost consciousness.”
“She ended up in the mountains, in a bind, but luckily met kind folks in retreat at a temple. She pretended to have amnesia, stayed briefly, and then met her current adoptive parents.”
“Good thing she had a strong fate.”
“But Chiyun, why have you never told me she fell into the lake with you?”
Zhao Chiyun fell silent. She hadn’t.
The last time Gan Xun saw Li Shutang, she’d asked her specifically, and she hadn’t said either. She said softly, “I was afraid you’d overthink it. I thought it was impossible, so better not to bring up extra trouble and worry you.”
Gan Xun thought, it was pretty worrisome.
Zhao Chiyun put herself in her shoes. “Sorry, I kept something from you. That was wrong of me.”
The last thing Gan Xun wanted to hear was apologies. She waved her hand weakly. “We’ll talk when you get back. Go see her first.”
Zhao Chiyun didn’t move. She unlocked her phone. “I’ll call her and say I’m not coming down. We’ll meet another day.”
She’d only dialed for a second when Gan Xun snatched the phone away.
She felt pretty petty like this. The other woman had come happily to see an old friend, and she’d ruined the mood.
Being this stingy over every moment—what about the long future ahead? Could they even make it?
“One thing at a time. Just like you supported me going to see Cen Xiangrui. She’s already here—we can’t make her wait in vain. Go. I’ll wait in the room.”
“But you’re unhappy, and she’s cutting into our trip.”
Gan Xun smiled.
The reason seemed too superficial.
Her heart softened. She didn’t want to make things hard for Zhao Chiyun. “It’s not like it’ll take long. If you don’t go, what excuse? She’ll know I wouldn’t let you and hold it against me later.”
“I’ll be up soon,” Zhao Chiyun promised again.
She washed her face, let down her casually tied hair, and changed clothes.
Gan Xun fetched the coat from the closet for her. The pocket felt heavy; she reached in and pulled out lipstick and hand cream.
She also felt a soft silk handkerchief and drew out a corner—it was the one Li Shutang had handed her at the restaurant today.
She said nothing, stuffed it back, and handed the coat to Zhao Chiyun.
Before leaving, Zhao Chiyun kissed Gan Xun and said, “I know your concerns, but she’s already engaged. The news we heard yesterday—you don’t remember?”
Gan Xun nodded. “I do. The crown prince.”
Zhao Chiyun smiled. “She’s the crown princess now. Are you less reassured than the crown prince?”
Gan Xun laughed too. “Alright, no more wild thoughts. Go on.”
The door closed. Gan Xun’s calm facade shattered, splintering everywhere, her ears ringing.
She went to the sink and sniffed the faint scent lingering on her fingertips.
She turned on the faucet and let the water run for a long time.
