Chapter 17: Living Under Another’s Roof

From Zhao Chiyun’s posture while on the phone, it was clear how quickly she learned.

She held the phone to her ear and spoke, looking quite the part.

Gan Xun hadn’t taught her that.

Cui Can’s laughter rang out hearty and bright—probably an occupational habit from teaching students too long. “Yes, yes, yes! Truly amazing and smart, learning so fast, County Princess.”

Even Zhao Chiyun, who had such a strong sense of propriety, felt a bit embarrassed by the praise. She glanced at Gan Xun, her fine brows slightly raised. “It’s Master Gan who teaches well.”

It sounded just like an instant noodle infomercial.

Gan Xun grumbled inwardly.

“The master leads you through the door, but cultivation depends on the individual. My grandma—I taught her a hundred times and she still couldn’t get it. County Princess, you just have talent!”

Oh heh heh.

Gan Xun admired her response.

“Zi Han and Zi Xuan are so clever and cute. May I visit them again another day?”

Shouldn’t you ask me first?

Gan Xun felt baffled.

Cui Can agreed readily. “No need to wait for another day—how about tomorrow? After class tomorrow night, I’ll treat you both to some late-night snacks. There’s a barbecue joint at the neighborhood entrance—Gan Xun knows it. We can eat and then head upstairs to play with the cats.”

Zhao Chiyun looked at Gan Xun. Gan Xun quickly flashed an OK sign. When she saw Zhao Chiyun didn’t get it, she switched to frantic nodding like a chick pecking at rice.

Zhao Chiyun smiled. “Sounds good. See you tomorrow night.”

“Hey hey hey! Don’t hang up yet.”

Cui Can called out.

“What is it?”

“What secret whispers did Gan Xun share with you on the way back? Want me to tell you?”

Gan Xun panicked and snatched the phone. “I’m right here! Don’t you have too much curiosity?”

Cui Can shot back, “Reflect on yourself—what kind of thing is this that even I, your best sister, can’t know? Did you confess?”

“You’re crazy. Hanging up!”

After hanging up, Gan Xun said, “This call was worth it. Free meal incoming, heh heh.”

She had been flailing wildly just now, but Zhao Chiyun looked puzzled. “Why get mad? Because she said you confessed?”

Gan Xun asked, “Do you even know what a confession is?”

Seeing Zhao Chiyun didn’t nod, she explained. “It’s your fault—you said I had secret words to share with you. Cui Can’s such a gossip; she definitely thought the wrong thing, like something happened between us.”

Zhao Chiyun understood and let out a soft, charming laugh. “No wonder you got so mad.”

Gan Xun was straight, so naturally she didn’t want that kind of “dirty water” splashed on her.

Gan Xun shook her head. “I wasn’t mad. I was afraid she’d offend you and make you unhappy.”

Today at Cui Can’s house, Zhao Chiyun had been startled plenty of times already. Jokes like that weren’t appropriate anymore.

Who knew if she’d worry—then how could they keep living together?

Zhao Chiyun responded graciously. “Miss Cui loves her jokes. I know. No harm done.”

Gan Xun fake-smiled. “Look at you, all magnanimous now. Don’t you remember who called me shameless yesterday? Who said I was vulgar just earlier?”

Zhao Chiyun lightly bumped her leg with her knee. “Why hold such a grudge?”

She sure learned fast!

Gan Xun did just as Zhao Chiyun had at the Cantonese restaurant, shifting her leg to the other side.

Zhao Chiyun’s brilliant smile bloomed right in front of Gan Xun’s eyes, like an entire spring bursting forth.

After fiddling with the phone a bit more, Zhao Chiyun discovered it could answer questions via voice activation. She voiced the question that had puzzled her since morning. “Excuse me, what ancient time period corresponds to seven o’clock in the morning?”

“Seven o’clock in ancient times is the hour of the dragon.”

She immediately pounced. “So it was the hour of the dragon—not early at all. And you still wouldn’t get up?”

Gan Xun shot back, “Even on workdays, I don’t get up until after seven-thirty. You woke me before seven and called it not early? We modern folks have rich night lives these days; early rising isn’t the thing anymore.”

“Oh, you might not know—tomorrow night, I’ll take you downstairs to experience it.”

Foolish modern people.

Zhao Chiyun’s face showed disdain. “The Great Mirror had no curfew. How could I not know? Sometimes listening to storytelling and gambling in the pleasure quarters; sometimes boating on the lake under the moonlight, drinking wine and watching dances.”

It was as if her clothes still had wide sleeves. She gracefully spread both hands. “Unaware of day or night.”

Gan Xun watched her animated expression. “You all sure knew how to enjoy yourselves.”

Zhao Chiyun said proudly, “If we couldn’t even find fun, wouldn’t we be fools?”

Gan Xun nodded.

Overthrow feudal society!

Under Gan Xun’s guidance, Zhao Chiyun searched up a chart of the time periods and memorized the ancient-modern correspondences in one minute flat.

Gan Xun hadn’t even finished reading, but Zhao Chiyun already locked the screen. “Done.”

“…”

Gan Xun gave up right then.

Ancient people were too intense; she couldn’t keep up.

Just then, the guitar sounds—like a dying patient’s lament—started up again.

Zhao Chiyun had heard it yesterday too. She pointed upstairs. “I’ve wanted to ask—this music, where does it come from?”

Gan Xun grumbled, “The guy upstairs is some pretentious literary type practicing guitar every day. It’s been a month, and he still sounds awful. No talent, so quit the artsy stuff!”

As they listened with disdain, a heated argument suddenly erupted from the neighboring wall.

A young couple smashed things while crying, shouting, and cursing each other—like they’d accidentally gotten married only to discover a blood feud between them.

No soundproofing at all, zero privacy.

Gan Xun found it irritating.

Zhao Chiyun got startled. “Your family?”

Gan Xun distanced herself. “Neighbors I don’t know. Never even talked to them.”

“What about your family then?”

After a pause, Gan Xun said, “We modern people value independent living. I don’t like staying with family.”

Zhao Chiyun glanced at her and nodded in acknowledgment. “I see. Miss Cui lives that way too.”

The food arrived, so Gan Xun went to the kitchen to cook.

She had a habit of watching videos while cooking, so she took the phone. She left Zhao Chiyun in the living room, flipping through a short story collection.

Though she could play with the tablet, she knew Gan Xun wasn’t there, so she wouldn’t touch the electronics blindly.

When the aroma wafted out, Zhao Chiyun was starving. She couldn’t help but follow the scent to the kitchen, quietly watching Gan Xun cook intently while wearing a navy-blue apron.

The kitchen was hotter than the living room, with only a small fan blowing. A sheen of sweat covered Gan Xun’s forehead.

Zhao Chiyun had never waited for meals in a kitchen before. Even though her courtyard in the Prince’s Mansion had a small kitchen, the food arrived after some time had passed.

Thus, the aroma and heat had dissipated somewhat, dignified and cool like the mansion’s etiquette.

But the smoky warmth and food scents in this kitchen—like Gan Xun herself—burst vividly and uniquely into her life.

Dinner was just three dishes and a soup. Though simple, when Zhao Chiyun picked up her chopsticks, the flavors and textures were exquisite—tastes she’d never experienced before.

“If you came to the Mirror Dynasty, you could be a cook.” She praised sincerely.

Gan Xun’s cooking was already good, and modern seasonings and tools far outstripped ancient ones. Plus, it was fresh and hot off the stove—how could it taste bad?

“Thanks. If I ever transmigrate over, remember to look out for me.”

Zhao Chiyun took this as highly likely.

She set down her chopsticks and spoke solemnly. “If I’m not by your side then, head straight to Prince Qi’s Mansion and say you’re a friend of the Qinghe County Princess, invited to meet. They must not slight you.”

After thinking, she added, “Remember, don’t call me by my full name directly. Otherwise, the servants might not know who you mean—or you could get in trouble, even thrown in jail.”

Gan Xun just went with it, mentioning it offhand, but Zhao Chiyun arranged it so seriously—it warmed her heart a bit.

But right after, she got a little scared. Since Zhao Chiyun could come here, who knew if her side really had some passage that might suck Gan Xun over one day.

Please no!

From the pitying look Zhao Chiyun had given her last night, Gan Xun knew mixed-blood folks like her had it rough there—probably bottom-rung commoners.

She nodded.

“Life’s harder for commoners there than now. If that day comes, will you protect me properly?”

Zhao Chiyun nodded. “I’ll keep you safe in the mansion. Otherwise, you modern people would die who-knows-how-many times.”

“You’re too good to me.”

It was hypothetical, but it really touched her.

“Because you’ve been good to me. I’m not blind to good and bad.”

Zhao Chiyun said seriously.

Gan Xun suddenly felt ashamed.

But she wanted to send the woman away…

Both were hungry, and with Gan Xun performing exceptionally, every dish went perfectly with rice. They polished off half, eating until they were stuffed.

They didn’t move after eating, diving straight into finishing the remaining half-episode of the drama. Only then did Gan Xun get up to clear the table.

Zhao Chiyun said, “Teach me to wash dishes.”

Gan Xun was surprised. Seeing her expression, she realized Zhao Chiyun had taken last night’s words to heart.

She smiled gently. “You’re a guest—how could I really make you do it? Rest. I’m quick when I get to it.”

Zhao Chiyun followed her and stood at the kitchen door.

She watched Gan Xun put the dishes in the sink, add water, squirt in detergent, slip on gloves, and start scrubbing.

After a brief moment of thought.

She’d seen plenty of people whose words didn’t match their actions—but always the type who promised much and delivered little.

Someone like Gan Xun—tough words, soft heart—was rare.

Hm, at least she still knew her place.

Zhao Chiyun was satisfied. She settled comfortably on the sofa and continued flipping through the magazine.

Gan Xun had a habit of cleaning the kitchen while cooking, so she only needed to do the dishes. Ten minutes later, she came out.

She started handling the changed clothes and asked Zhao Chiyun, “Your underwear—want me to wash it for you?”

Zhao Chiyun sat calmly and countered, “May I?”

Gan Xun froze. She’d only been polite; she figured Zhao Chiyun would blush and say something like “Don’t you dare touch it.”

“It’s not impossible, but…”

Gan Xun said, “I’ve never washed anyone else’s underthings. You really don’t mind?”

Zhao Chiyun, whose undergarments had been laundered by others her whole life, naturally didn’t mind. But from what she knew of Gan Xun, the hemming and hawing meant reluctance.

Living under another’s roof—fine.

She stood. “Teach me how to wash.”

Washing delicates was simple enough, with clear steps.

Gan Xun guided from the side while Zhao Chiyun washed them herself.

After hanging them to dry, she turned around.

“My hands hurt.”

Her tone carried a hint of grievance.

“…”

She held her hands high in front of Gan Xun’s face. “Still red.”

“Want me to blow on them?”

Like a programmed response, Gan Xun didn’t think—just leaned in and gently blew on the noble hands.

Once she realized what she was doing, she bolted.