Her hair was blow-dried, and the noise disappeared.
The music playing in the shop resembled one of the interludes from last night’s movie—clear and refreshing, enough to dilute the summer heat.
The boss set down the blow dryer and glanced indifferently at the employees as she went to fetch the hair oil.
They pretended to act naturally but were utterly unnatural as they snapped photos.
From the moment this customer had sat down in the shop, she had been the center of attention for the entire place.
Her looks were far too striking—gorgeous, dazzling, and carrying an air of nobility that made it impossible for anyone to stare directly at her.
Her hair had already grown past her waist, and blow-drying it had taken quite a bit of time, but she hadn’t shifted her sitting posture once from start to finish.
Dignified and elegant, neck held high, her gaze disdained to linger on anyone else—at most, she glanced at her friends in the waiting area through the mirror.
Even the store manager hadn’t dared strike up a conversation, only speaking up while handling the oil. “Beauty, your hair quality is really good. Have you permed or dyed it before?”
Zhao Chiyun didn’t understand her words and turned to look at Gan Xun, who caught on and hurried over.
“Done? What are you chatting about?”
The boss repeated herself.
Gan Xun helped answer. “No, her hair is purely natural.”
She wasn’t sure what made her feel so proud about it.
“With her face shape and temperament, a perm would definitely look great. You should come try it next time.”
Gan Xun got the idea and smiled. “Sure, we’ll think about it back home. If we decide to perm it, we’ll come over.”
The boss added, “When you do, I’ll give you a sixty percent discount. Just let us shoot a short video afterward—no need to show your face.”
Gan Xun chuckled and brushed it off. Once they left the hair salon, Zhao Chiyun asked, “What does perming and dyeing mean?”
Gan Xun held an umbrella over her. “Simply put, perming means curling your hair, like Cui Can’s style. Dyeing means changing black hair to a different color, like mine.”
Zhao Chiyun finally understood. “No wonder your hair color looks so light. I thought it was due to your bloodline, something you were born with.”
“Haha, no. I have black hair—I just dyed it chestnut.”
“Interesting.”
Zhao Chiyun looked quite envious.
She had just seen plenty of beauty photos in the shop, each with different hairstyles, all having their own charm.
“You don’t mind it? I figured you ancient folks would think it’s immoral.”
Zhao Chiyun shot her a dissatisfied glance. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
It hit Gan Xun’s funny bone.
“Do you eat ice cream?”
Gan Xun picked up a package along the way. There was a cold drink cooler right at the express station entrance. She introduced it. “These aren’t poisonous—sweet and cold. Want to try one?”
A few kids had just paid and ridden off on their bikes, cones shoved in their mouths.
Zhao Chiyun nodded after seeing that. “Let’s try it.”
Gan Xun grabbed two soft-serve cones. She ate slowly, and regular ice cream tended to melt onto her hands, but cones provided a handy barrier.
Zhao Chiyun took the strawberry one; Gan Xun had vanilla.
Zhao Chiyun was utterly amazed, her brows relaxing in delight. Gan Xun felt happy just watching her.
“Not fooling you, right?”
“Not fooling me.”
Once home, Gan Xun unpacked the package. During the June shopping event, she’d only bought essential skincare and seasonal clothes—gritting her teeth for the full-reduction deal, figuring that would cover her for the whole summer.
She also gave Zhao Chiyun a crash course in online shopping.
Express delivery no longer served only nobles and officials—it had entered ordinary households.
Sunscreen clothes, a skirt, a set of casual wear.
Zhao Chiyun had no comments, so Gan Xun nodded, snipped off the tags, and tossed everything into the laundry bag for washing.
What kind of fashion sense could an ancient person have, anyway?
The afternoon stretched long amid the sound of cicada chirps. Zhao Chiyun swiped through educational videos on the tablet, gobbling up modern culture in bite-sized lessons. She was incredibly studious.
Gan Xun wanted to tell her there was no need to study so hard—better to just watch some dramas—but she hesitated as soon as she opened her mouth.
Maybe not.
Zhao Chiyun’s freshly washed hair carried the scent of the hair salon’s oil—pleasant enough, though a bit heavy.
Even from halfway across the room, Gan Xun could smell it.
Gan Xun chugged a big mouthful of ice water, trying to wash away the overwhelming richness.
She stood in what she thought was an out-of-the-way corner, watching Zhao Chiyun fumble clumsily with the electronic device.
A sudden illusion of happiness washed over her.
But then she remembered the company notice: go in next week, pack up her workstation stuff—no need to return after that, just handle the handover from home.
She planned to go tomorrow, since typhoon weather was coming later.
“Tomorrow morning, I’m heading to the company. Wait for me at home—I’ll come back at noon and cook for you.”
Zhao Chiyun was very wary of Gan Xun going out alone. “You’re going to work? Can I come with you?”
“Isn’t staying home with the air conditioner nice?”
Gan Xun said, “Watch some videos, flip through books, take a nap. It’ll be really hot outside.”
Zhao Chiyun didn’t budge. “But I want to be with you.”
Everyone wanted to feel important and irreplaceable somewhere else—that’s why people loved raising kids or pets, savoring that sense of being needed.
Gan Xun didn’t plan on having kids and had never owned a pet, but those words still made her thrilled.
She teased with a smile. “Scared I’ll run off?”
Zhao Chiyun shook her head, tearing her attention from the video. “I like being with you.”
“Take me along, okay?”
She knew just how to bend the rules—no one talked to a friend like that. (Drunk Cui Can didn’t count; post-booze, Cui Can spilled her heart to anyone, “confiding” slurred nonsense she forgot come morning.)
Who could bring themselves to say “no”?
If it were actual work tomorrow, Gan Xun definitely wouldn’t bring her—but packing up stuff while dragging along a friend? What was the harm?
It was the last day anyway.
Gan Xun drained the last of her ice water. “Alright, let’s go together.”
She knew why Zhao Chiyun liked being around her.
And she knew why she liked being around Zhao Chiyun.
The former lacked a sense of security; the latter was beautiful, kind-hearted, and loved doing charity work—okay, fine, she admitted it: she was lonely.
After Cui Can messaged that she’d clocked out, Gan Xun headed downstairs with Zhao Chiyun, who was dressed in long sleeves and long pants.
Gan Xun threw on a loose white T-shirt paired with an ankle-length skirt—she’d originally planned to wear athletic shorts, but Zhao Chiyun had spotted it and flatly refused to let her go out like that.
The County Princess said sternly, “Gan Xun, your legs are completely exposed.”
The scar that only she had seen was out there too.
The wound had formed a thin scab. After changing, Gan Xun reapplied ointment, and Zhao Chiyun caught the herbal scent.
She found it terribly indecent.
Gan Xun didn’t mind a bit. “It’s cool out, and at night there’s no worry about getting sunburned. Plus, my legs are straight—shorts look good on them.”
“Right?” She teased Zhao Chiyun.
They were straight, they did look good. Truth be told, Zhao Chiyun had been secretly surprised and a little shy at first, seeing her in short sleep shorts.
In the Mirror Dynasty, there weren’t many chances to even glimpse a woman’s body.
No girl like Gan Xun would bare her arms and legs so freely in front of her.
“No, it’s improper.”
Gan Xun was easygoing, but she still got serious and explained her principles. “I respect your style of dress, but I have mine too. You can’t drag me back to the Mirror Dynasty, right?”
Zhao Chiyun felt displeased and stared coldly at Gan Xun.
But no matter how unhappy, her ears weren’t deaf—she heard the words, and they made sense. Gan Xun could dress however she wanted.
So after the standoff, Zhao Chiyun reluctantly agreed. “Fine.”
Gan Xun added, “Forget it, I’ll go change.”
Gan Xun wasn’t a people-pleaser. Her thinking was simple: they only had a few days together—what was the point of insisting on her independent style in front of Zhao Chiyun? She wasn’t some rebellious teen.
If Zhao Chiyun didn’t like it, she’d just swap outfits.
After changing, Gan Xun said, “This works great. Covering up more at night feels safer, even if security here’s top-notch. You still need that self-protection mindset.”
Zhao Chiyun replied, “I thought you didn’t know that principle.”
Gan Xun shot her a sideways glance. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
Her imitation of the tone and expression was spot-on, voice pitched high—it cracked Gan Xun up. The embarrassed Zhao Chiyun gave her a light kick.
Zhao Chiyun had made changes too. She undid her sleeves and rolled them up once, unbuttoned her collar to bare a section of her slender neck to the night air.
She even tied her hair back herself with a hair tie—no strands in the way, her bare face as captivating as if rouged.
She asked Gan Xun, who was staring at her. “You’ve hesitated to speak several times. Do you want to praise how beautiful this County Princess is?”
Gan Xun’s innermost thoughts laid bare, she reflexively wanted to dodge with “Don’t get too cocky,” but what slipped out was, “Yeah, yeah—you’re gorgeous.”
“Lots of people must’ve chased after you, huh?”
