Chapter 48: Orpiment

The next day, when Chu Susu woke up, the spot beside her was already empty, and the warm bedding had cooled significantly.

She sniffed, catching a waft of fragrance, and propped herself up in bed.

Her stomach predictably rumbled twice.

Han Xuan sat properly at the hotel table, looking like she had already washed up: “Morning.”

The source of the aroma was the food on the table—a steaming bowl of yangchun noodles that made one’s mouth water.

“Morning.” Chu Susu yawned, getting out of bed to freshen up without noticing anything amiss.

It wasn’t until she was brushing her teeth, mouth full of foam, that she realized how casually she had accepted waking up to see Han Xuan first thing in the morning.

As if… it wasn’t the first time.

Though it really wasn’t their first time like this, the inexplicable sense of familiarity still felt a bit strange to her. They clearly hadn’t reached that stage yet, but there was this weird old-married-couple vibe.

Chu Susu pushed down the odd feeling, casually clipping her hair back with a shark clip.

“Is this the hotel breakfast?” she asked.

Han Xuan nodded: “Yeah, give it a try.”

Chu Susu would never say no to food. She picked up some noodles with chopsticks and found the saltiness perfect, leaving a lingering fragrance on her lips and teeth.

She usually preferred heavy flavors and always added extra soy sauce to her noodles, but this bowl seemed to already have some added.

While Chu Susu ate her breakfast, Han Xuan naturally got up to make the bed, soon smoothing out the slightly messy sheets neatly and folding the changed clothes on the side with practiced efficiency.

After finishing, she took an air-cushion comb from the bathroom: “Let me brush your hair.”

Chu Susu didn’t know what to say for a moment. She set down her chopsticks and sighed: “You don’t have to.”

It made her feel like some pampered eldest miss being waited on.

“It’s fine.”

Han Xuan held the comb and quietly stood behind her, unclipping the shark clip to let her long hair down, then slowly combed it out.

Chu Susu’s hair hadn’t been permed or dyed much, so it was very smooth and easy to comb through.

In the mirror, their figures—one standing, one sitting—were reflected: fair hands on jet-black hair, two starkly different colors side by side, yet blending perfectly as if made for each other.

“When are you heading back to the Imperial Capital?” Han Xuan asked.

“Tomorrow.”

This trip to Magic City wasn’t planned to be long anyway— she still had a pet to care for at home. Chu Susu had left Pipi with Li Le’er this time and didn’t want to impose for too long.

Han Xuan set down the comb and gathered her hair with both hands, seemingly trying to style it: “Then I’ll see you off.”

“No need, don’t you still have to exchange ideas with the art team?”

“They won’t notice if I’m gone.”

“Really, no need.”

Han Xuan’s hands were deft. In no time, she had skillfully braided a low fishbone braid hanging on the right side, adding a touch of gentleness.

Chu Susu stared into the mirror, suddenly lost in thought.

Back in middle school, she had liked styling her hair this way. But after growing up, not wanting to look like a green student anymore, she hadn’t done it since.

“Okay.” Han Xuan didn’t insist, leaning in close to her neck: “Then, safe travels. See you back in the Imperial Capital.”

For a moment, Chu Susu almost thought she was going to kiss her cheek.

But she didn’t.

The scent of sage filled her nose. Breathing it in deeply made her feel refreshed and at ease.

Or maybe it wasn’t just the sage.

It was Han Xuan.

The following day, Chu Susu returned to the Imperial Capital alone, without letting anyone see her off. That night, she still slept with Han Xuan, the two embracing as they slept, without doing anything improper.

Just as she was about to drift off, she heard Han Xuan say: “Wait for me to come find you.”

Exhaustion prevented Chu Susu from responding; she just pondered it inwardly.

Normally, she would have told the other that coincidences like matching account numbers didn’t work.

But Han Xuan was so special to her—not like ordinary people, and she had saved her—which made it hard for Chu Susu to say anything harsh after her initial anger subsided.

Plus, Li Le’er’s earnest advice still echoed in her ears: “Lesbian dynamics are inherently switch—why are you so hung up on it!”

Chu Susu: “You seem to know a lot.”

Li Le’er: “Heh heh, just rich in theoretical knowledge.”

Truth be told, Chu Susu couldn’t quite explain it either; the feeling itself was complex and hard to unravel.

If she could overcome that barrier of shame in her heart, she wouldn’t be so stubborn.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t yet. After being gay for so many years, just imagining a scenario where someone else took complete control still made her stiffen and tremble all over.

Before Chu Susu left, Han Xuan even proactively helped her pack, organizing the less tidy small items neatly.

“See you back there,” she said again.

Chu Susu took a deep breath: “Okay.”

A few hours later, she arrived at the Imperial Capital International Airport. The first thing she did upon returning was head to Li Le’er’s place to pick up Pipi.

The little dog had gotten used to being occasionally boarded with its owner—knowing she’d come back soon—so it wasn’t fussy or distant, just munching on its freeze-dried kibble contentedly.

Chu Susu didn’t dislike taking it everywhere, but pet shipping had too many horror stories, like suffocation en route, so she didn’t dare risk it.

When she arrived, Li Le’er had just gotten up, bleary-eyed and about to do her makeup to head out. Seeing the breakfast Chu Susu had bought on the way, she squealed excitedly: “Whoa! Love you! My absolute favorite! Wife, I’m calling you wife!”

Chu Susu: “Straight girls, don’t @ me.”

The two chatted for a bit. While Li Le’er outlined her brows in the mirror, she casually remarked: “Oh, Qiao Qian seems to be going through something lately.”

“She looks pretty well-off, always out playing. What’s the trouble?”

Li Le’er pursed her lips: “I can’t quite say. Just a feeling.”

“A feeling? What kind?”

“After all, we got to know her later, so I’m not clear on her family situation or whatever. A couple days ago, we were having afternoon tea…”

That afternoon tea wasn’t expensive. Li Le’er got plenty of pocket money from home and usually didn’t split bills with friends—they took turns treating. Since her friends had covered the previous few outings, she naturally assumed it was Qiao Qian’s turn this time.

But Qiao Qian pulled out several cards, swiped them at the POS machine one by one, and none went through.

Qiao Qian looked embarrassed: “Le’er, I grabbed the wrong wallet today— these are all expired cards. Could you cover it first?”

Li Le’er didn’t care about the money, but she clearly caught Qiao Qian lying.

With WeChat Pay and Alipay so widespread nowadays, the “wrong wallet” excuse didn’t hold water.

Plus, her sharp eyes spotted that all those cards were valid through next year. Had she maxed out credit cards from every major bank…?

“Hard to believe,” Chu Susu said. “If that’s the case, how does she still go out playing every day? Besides, her line of work pays decently—not like she can’t cover the bills.”

Li Le’er thought about it: “Yeah, maybe I’m overthinking. Oh, right—she also beat around the bush asking about Han Xuan with me.”

“Hm?”

It was a bit bizarre; Chu Susu couldn’t fathom it.

Li Le’er: “She asked me out that day, started with all sorts of chit-chat, then steered the topic to you, asking how things were with you and Han Xuan.”

“And then?”

“I couldn’t read her intentions. Why not just ask openly in the group chat? Why come to me? So I didn’t say much, just brushed it off vaguely.”

Chu Susu shook her head: “Weird.”

“Yeah, and it’s not just that—her attitude too. That tone… like she was super scared of your little lamb or something.”

Chu Susu frowned at that, a strange thought suddenly occurring to her.

Could Qiao Qian know that Han Xuan wasn’t like ordinary people?

But she quickly dismissed it.

Han Xuan had few friends, and her daily life didn’t overlap with Qiao Qian’s at all. Plus, Qiao Qian wasn’t in the art field, so no chance of running into her old classmates.

Maybe it was just casual mention.

After leaving Li Le’er’s, she proactively messaged Qiao Qian.

Chu Susu: “[Transfer]”

Qiao Qian: “Hm? What’s this?”

Chu Susu: “For your birthday last time—I didn’t get you a gift, so consider this it.”

Qiao Qian hesitated: “No need, really.”

“Alright, then should I pick out a gift instead?”

Qiao Qian: “No need.”

She accepted the transfer shortly after.

At this point, Chu Susu was pretty sure the other was really short on cash—among their friend group, they basically never took money from each other.

She’d intended to help Qiao Qian out from the start but hadn’t framed it as a loan upfront, not wanting to make it awkward by putting it out there.

Chu Susu: “If you think of any gift you want later, just tell me—I’ll get it for you.”

She was hinting that if there were difficulties, she could help. After all, credit card debt affected one’s credit score; between friends, it could be paid back gradually.

Qiao Qian: “No need, thanks. I’m already more than satisfied that you have the heart.”

Qiao Qian: “By the way, how’s it going with finding the little lamb in Magic City? Any progress? I wasn’t in the video that day and it seems like I missed a lot.”

Chu Susu: “It’s alright, but maybe we don’t quite click.”

Qiao Qian: “Oh? Why’s that?”

Chu Susu’s relationship with her wasn’t as close as it was with Li Le’er, so she didn’t mention what had happened in bed with Han Xuan. She only said she needed to take a closer look.

After chatting a few more words, Qiao Qian suddenly said, “Susu, I’d like to ask you for a favor.”

Chu Susu: “Sure, what is it?”

Qiao Qian: “Next week is the birthday banquet for the young lady of Fucheng Enterprise. I heard your cousin gave you an invitation. Le’er, Xiaoying, and the others got theirs through their families and companies. I don’t have any connections… If it’s possible, could you help me get one?”

Fucheng Enterprise had started with real estate, but it wasn’t limited to that—it spanned many industries and was massive. Plus, this event was a private bidding disguised as a celebration. Anyone from any field who could attend would have a chance to make valuable connections.

So it was perfectly normal for Qiao Qian to want to go.

Chu Susu: “You know it came from my cousin, so I can’t make any promises, but I can ask for you.”

Qiao Qian: “Mm, thanks.”

For some reason, Chu Susu sensed a hint of bitterness in her words.