Chapter 14: Undoing Buttons—What Decorum!

—How did you know I was afraid of light?

—This County Princess’s eyes are beautiful, but they’re not just for show.

—This is the first time I’ve heard someone compliment themselves like that.

On the way back, Gan Xun reflected on their conversation while waiting for the bus.

She had given the sunglasses to Zhao Chiyun not only because she was kind-hearted but also out of a bored desire to show off.

A modern commoner letting an ancient noble experience shades.

So she was fine with Zhao Chiyun wearing them. If it was uncomfortable, so be it—just for the wait at the bus stop.

She had never mentioned that her eyes felt uncomfortable; Zhao Chiyun had noticed it herself.

The feeling of being seen had scratched at her heart from the moment the sunglasses returned to her face.

Like a butterfly after breaking from its cocoon, hovering and refusing to leave, eager to flaunt its beautiful patterns.

The car radio announced that a typhoon would pass through Mirror City in a few days.

Fortunately, it would make landfall in the neighboring province, so by the time it reached Mirror City, it wouldn’t be so fierce anymore.

“Citizens, no need to panic.”

Gan Xun wasn’t panicked.

Her job was gone anyway, no need to go to work. She just needed to stock up on supplies at home.

Summer was all about these things—wind, rain, cicada chirps.

She loved summer. Summer was like a registered letter from the Creator to Earth.

Its texture was like chilled fruit, its sound like popping open a soda can dripping with condensation, its color like the waterweed in the river at the foot of a snowy mountain, its temper like a cat, its flavor like mint.

The same natural disaster in another season would make her anxious, melancholic, googling pointless questions like whether Earth was suitable for human survival.

But in summer, she felt a carefree “bring it on.”

Though she had to endure whatever bad luck any season threw at her.

Before nature, humans and ants weren’t much different.

What worried her was Zhao Chiyun—whether she could make it back safely during those days.

Before nature, nobles and commoners were no different.

She wanted to ask if Mirror Country had typhoons, how they avoided disasters, but she saw that Zhao Chiyun had already fallen asleep, her head against the car window.

The County Princess had gotten up too early and hadn’t napped at noon; she was bound to be sleepy at this hour.

Her sleeping posture was beautiful, like a beauty feigning sleep in a period drama.

The difference was that she was really asleep.

Gan Xun didn’t remember applying lipstick to her, but her lip color looked luxurious, with a sticky sweetness like crushed spring flowers.

Her gaze shifted down to Zhao Chiyun’s hands, overlapped on her lap.

Ten minutes ago, those jade-like hands had helped her put on the sunglasses and smoothed her stray hairs.

She wasn’t skilled at it. The temple tips had scraped Gan Xun’s temples uncomfortably, and the hair tucked behind her ear had been pressed by the frames.

Then she had gently parted it and tucked it back.

Facing the light, she had smiled faintly and praised Gan Xun’s proper features.

The sweetness was off the charts, unmelting even in a hundred cups of iced lemon water—sour and honey splashed together, like a post-meal digestive dessert.

The unfamiliar sensation left Gan Xun at a loss.

Maybe it had been too long since she’d made new friends or gotten close with any girl besides Cui Can; she wasn’t used to it.

She tried to focus her attention elsewhere.

After the weather report, it switched to music.

Whether Gan Xun was too young or too old, she didn’t recognize a single song and didn’t pay close attention.

When she wanted to find something to focus on, a Cantonese duet was playing, the singers tenderly harmonizing.

She’d never heard it before.

Out of boredom, she tapped to identify the song and silently read the lyrics. It was at the line “honey words softly poured, drinking a thousand cups of fine wine.”

The melody in her ear stopped; she couldn’t hear any other sounds.

Only this song remained.

Gan Xun looked out the window. The sun near four o’clock was still blazing hot, the parked cars on the roadside reflecting blinding light.

It made one forget how heavy yesterday’s rain had been.

She hiked up her pants and checked the souvenir from yesterday. The wound no longer hurt or itched; it had healed neatly.

When Zhao Chiyun had kicked Xu Yanyan, she was heroic and valiant, just as she said—some skill in fists and feet.

Even Cui Can hadn’t noticed her leg, but Zhao Chiyun spotted it at a glance and stood up for her.

Gan Xun now thought that making another friend was pretty good.

“We’re here. Sleep when we get home.”

She woke Zhao Chiyun a street early.

Her nap interrupted, the sleeper’s brows furrowed as she slowly opened her eyes.

But the moment she saw Gan Xun, her serene expression suddenly tensed. She glared coldly.

That gaze was full of wariness—no trace of her awake composure or tender affection, just sharpness and undisguisable killing intent.

Only after coming to her senses did she gradually relax.

She looked away, nodded to Gan Xun, and composed herself alone.

This was the side of Zhao Chiyun that didn’t need to read the room.

She hasn’t adapted yet, just like me.

Gan Xun thought.

Entering the neighborhood, Gan Xun asked her seriously, “Have you killed anyone?”

Zhao Chiyun’s whole body felt limp, lazily drawling, “Why would This County Princess stain her hands with blood?”

Gan Xun understood the implication. “Then have you ever ordered someone to do it?”

Zhao Chiyun glanced at her, puzzled.

“What are you laughing at?” Gan Xun asked.

“To be honest, when we first met yesterday, I did plan to send you on your way once rescuers arrived.”

Zhao Chiyun chuckled lightly. “Are you afraid?”

Gan Xun swallowed. “Then when did you give up on that plan?”

If Zhao Chiyun said she hadn’t, Gan Xun would turn around and call the police right away!

Too dangerous, wuwu. Never casually take in strangers.

Zhao Chiyun thought for a moment, her tone lifting slightly. “When you bent down to hand me my shoes.”

Climbing the stairs step by step, Gan Xun saw her elegantly cover her mouth for a yawn, afraid she’d miss a step and tumble, so she held her wrist through the shirt sleeve.

Better to serve her carefully, lest she really get silenced one day.

Zhao Chiyun was very pleased.

The west apartment on the second floor had a shoe rack and packages by the door. Passing by, Gan Xun and Zhao Chiyun tacitly held their breath and quickened their steps.

Once home, Zhao Chiyun spoke first. “I’ll bathe first. I’ve sweated.”

Gan Xun needed a shower too. She got her a nightgown and towel, then helped her pin up her hair.

Her hands were still clumsy, but at least she didn’t yank the scalp this time.

They sat side by side on the sofa. Up close, Gan Xun could smell the faint scent from Zhao Chiyun’s neck after being sun-baked.

A girl’s body held no foulness; instead, after baking, it carried a heart-stirring subtle fragrance.

Gan Xun said, “No need to button the shirt all the way up when wearing it. Undo one or two at the top. Roll up the sleeves too, or it’ll be hot.”

The updo was still ugly, propped up only by Zhao Chiyun’s face.

The County Princess turned around. “Undoing them—what decorum is that.”

Her progress from the outing was that this was no longer shocked reproach but hesitant reluctance to try.

Cui Can had worn a square-neck short sleeve today, exposing a lot yet not vulgarly—it was bright and alluring. Xu Yanyan and the red-haired girl weren’t any more covered.

Since they were home anyway, she thought it through and, in front of Gan Xun, lowered her head to undo two buttons at the chest.

“Like this?”

She also opened the collar a bit more, smoothing it while glancing at Gan Xun.

Her rarely sun-exposed skin glowed with soft porcelain luster. Her collarbone sharpened with each breath, the edge of a light blue bra peeking out.

Any ex-lesbian knew that a woman wearing her top open wasn’t the same as opening it in front of you.

Gan Xun nearly lost it.