Chapter 76: Ge Jin

A chilling aura that contrasted with the warmth of their bodies bloomed from the person in front of her. A layer of frost-like shell condensed on the surface of the ceramic dolls, leaving them standing there in a daze, frozen in place as if under a binding spell.

They could no longer approach, let alone harm anyone.

Moreover, their expressions gradually shifted from ferocious to terrified. Chu Susu had no doubt that if they could, these dolls would turn tail and run.

Han Xuan slowly turned around, and only then did she get a clear look at the other’s face. Her cheeks and nose were flushed red from the heat, and her sleepwear collar was crooked, not properly fastened at all.

Such attire was extremely out of place here, as if she had just finished bathing and suddenly appeared.

“Han Xuan…” Chu Susu was momentarily stunned, then called her name.

Just moments ago, the exit had been blocked airtight by the swarming dolls, the air growing thinner and thinner. At that moment, she had truly felt like she was suffocating.

But someone had descended from the heavens, dispersing all the gloom and returning light to her.

The rain seemed to have lightened imperceptibly. It had been pouring just now, but the sound hitting the roof was gradually softening, as if it was clearing up.

Han Xuan blinked. “Susu.”

Her eyes seemed to shimmer with faint, transparent mist, the aurora-like purple reflecting the other’s face.

In that moment of eye contact, Chu Susu’s heart pounded like a drum. She felt like a flustered little girl, unable to control her expression, certain she must look utterly foolish right now.

She was about to say something, but before she could open her mouth, an untimely voice interrupted: “How long are you two planning to stand there?”

Some atmospheres only spread between the parties involved, imperceptible to outsiders.

For example, Han Yao nearby was completely unaffected, merely showing a puzzled smile as she stared at the two.

“You’ve got some nerve saying that.”

Hearing this, Chu Susu snapped out of the shared gaze. She tugged at her lips. “If it weren’t for you, how would we have run into the Wandering Spirit…”

As she spoke, Han Xuan had already walked over to the dolls, circling around them and inspecting:

“They’re not ghosts.”

“Hm?” Chu Susu frowned in surprise. “Then what are they?”

“These porcelain dolls probably absorbed some kind of energy during the firing process—maybe from humans, maybe something else—so they gained their own consciousness,” Han Xuan said nonchalantly. “But their energy is still very weak, nothing to worry about.”

Chu Susu thought for a moment. “Nothing to worry about because these exhibits haven’t officially opened yet? So they haven’t had a chance to draw energy from tourists.”

No wonder they were desperately fleecing anyone they caught.

“Mm, probably.”

Han Yao nearby shook her head, glanced at the porcelain dolls, and curled her lip. “Not a Wandering Spirit? Then it’s got nothing to do with me.”

With every sentence she said, Chu Susu was firing off a barrage of mental comments. What was with that disdainful expression? It was like she was mocking the dolls for being too weak.

Han Xuan leaned in close, signaling her to ignore it for now, and whispered, “Let’s reset the dolls.”

They were too fragile; using abilities to move them risked shattering them and causing more damage, so manual handling was best.

Though Han Yao looked reluctant, she still came to help. The three of them spent over ten minutes working together to return the porcelain dolls to their original positions in the exhibit hall.

Chu Susu watched as Han Xuan bent down to carefully pick up the pieces of shattered porcelain from the hammer blow she’d dealt earlier, then pieced them back together perfectly in her hand, as if coated with invisible glue.

The doll whose head had been smashed was restored in an instant.

After finishing, Han Xuan looked worriedly through the transparent skylight at the sky outside. “Why did the weather turn so bad so suddenly?”

A thick layer of water had already accumulated outside, mud and weeds washed everywhere along the paths. Even if it cleared up, without anyone to clear the puddles, it would be hard to get out.

“What’s there to worry about?” Han Yao said, lazily plopping down on a bench. “Can’t you just take us out?”

The three sat side by side, with Han Xuan in the middle.

She turned her head, giving Han Yao a look that Chu Susu couldn’t see, then said softly, “Yes, but wouldn’t that raise suspicions?”

Han Yao opened her mouth to speak, but then looked down to see Han Xuan’s fingertips resting on the back of Chu Susu’s hand. Her expression turned complicated, and she clamped her mouth shut, turning away.

Tch, too awkward to watch.

Han Yao closed her eyes, as if preparing for a short nap, and the other two didn’t disturb her.

“What happened today?” Han Xuan lowered her voice. “Jiang City’s weather report didn’t mention any heavy rain, did it?”

“Mm, the alert was only issued last minute…”

Chu Susu explained how the two of them had gotten trapped here, then asked, “Why did you suddenly come over?”

She hadn’t realized what she’d said in that moment of danger—it was more instinct than conscious choice.

She hadn’t connected the word “stars” to her either.

Han Xuan smiled faintly without answering, simply reaching out to gently wipe her cheek.

“…My makeup’s ruined.”

Chu Susu realized it then. She’d been shoved around by the dolls earlier and had bashed quite a few heads, so her makeup must have been smeared all over by the porcelain, who knew how messy she looked now.

“Just a little.” Han Xuan’s fingertip brushed her lip corner, gazing intently. “Still looks good.”

And somehow, even prettier.

The smudged red at her lips and eye corners was spread by her like paint, resembling faint bloodstains left after an injury.

Fragile yet resilient.

But Chu Susu didn’t know how she looked right now. She asked again in a low voice, “How did you know we were in danger? Can you sense it?”

“I didn’t know ‘you two’ were in danger. I just knew ‘you’ had run into something bad.”

“Oh?” Chu Susu was deeply surprised.

After all, the Eldest Miss of Fucheng beside her shared blood ties with Han Xuan. She’d initially thought that’s why Han Xuan had rushed over in a panic.

Turns out the real reason was her.

Han Xuan continued, “Still no signal on your phone?”

The rain had become mere background noise, dripping from the exterior of the hall with a soft patter. In this environment, exhaustion suddenly washed over Chu Susu.

“Mm.”

She responded tiredly, her tone tinged with irritation. Normally she’d bear it alone, but now she couldn’t help complaining to her.

“Can’t see any messages from the organizers, no idea when they’ll come get us. With this storm, the summit schedule’s probably delayed, and our flights back to the Imperial Capital will need rescheduling too…”

Han Xuan said nothing, just listened quietly, then patted Chu Susu’s shoulder.

“Lean on me and rest a bit. Han Yao’s already asleep. You must be exhausted from the meetings. You should get some proper rest.”

“No need. Someone should stay awake. You probably can’t stay here too long either…”

Han Xuan said softly, “I’m not leaving.”

She gestured again for her to lean on her for a short nap. “Rest easy. I’ll stay with you until they come.”

“Forget it…”

“Susu.”

Those two words held some strange magic, making Chu Susu unable to refuse. She obediently rested her head on Han Xuan’s slender shoulder.

It was clearly a place without an ounce of excess flesh, yet the touch was completely different from what she’d imagined—like a soft, comfortable pillow, lulling her into a sweet dream.

In mere moments, Chu Susu could no longer keep her eyes open, losing 99% of her awareness.

“Why…”

Perhaps driven by her subconscious, those murmured words reached Han Xuan’s ears clearly.

“Why are you always so good to me?”

They hadn’t known each other long, and she hadn’t done anything for Han Xuan.

Why did she always appear right when she needed her?

Like a reassuring guardian deity from a fairy tale, always providing shelter. As long as Han Xuan was there, no one could harm her—not even a single hair.

It all felt too unreal, like a dream she might wake from at any moment.

Regardless, she had already fallen into a deep sleep. Even with words left unsaid, her lips merely moved, leaving fragmented syllables.

Han Xuan sat perfectly still without speaking until Chu Susu could no longer hear the outside world. Only then did she whisper softly:

“No why about it.”

She reached out again to smooth Chu Susu’s furrowed brow, sighing almost imperceptibly:

“I want to know why you’re always frowning too.”

Those exquisite, vibrant brows and eyes should arch coquettishly, brimming with charm, not knit tightly in stiff worry over trivial matters.

“It’s okay.”

Han Xuan said tenderly, a fleeting shadow crossing her fair, refined face.

“Anyone who bothers you, I’ll kill them for you, alright?”

After those words, who knew what scene Chu Susu dreamed of—she suddenly pursed her lips, showing a hint of pain.

A faint glow leaked from Han Xuan’s fingertip, the dancing light points surging into her brow and vanishing.

“I’m kidding,” she said. “You always want me to be law-abiding, not draw attention. I promised you.”

“I’ve promised you something, and I’ve never gone back on my word.”

The voice fell into Chu Susu’s ears. Whether it was Han Xuan’s words that took effect, or the dream finally stabilized, in any case, her expression finally softened a little, gradually calming down and no longer fidgeting restlessly.

But the hand gripping Han Xuan only tightened more, unwilling to let go.

Han Xuan didn’t struggle free either, simply letting Chu Susu hold her like that.

Although she was now a bit taller than Chu Susu, her height had only caught up later. During her teenage years, she had been a short little kid, forever the tiniest one among her peers.

In junior high, most of the girls in her class had grown to 1.5 or 1.6 meters tall, while she was just a little over 1.4 meters. Set against her classmates, she looked like a malnourished little bean sprout.

Back then, Chu Susu was already in high school, her height fully set, nearly a head taller than her.

Sometimes after school, neither wanting to go home, the two would sit on the rooftop and chat.

Taking advantage of her height, Chu Susu would always hug her like a little puppy.

Han Xuan had weakly protested once or twice, but was domineeringly shot down.

“Wait until you’re taller than me.”

“Then what if I really end up taller than you?”

Chu Susu had smiled slyly, utterly unconcerned. “Then I’ll be your little pet.”

But later, Han Xuan came to understand that no matter height, looks, fat or thin…

She was always perfectly willing to be Chu Susu’s dog.