Gan Xun said, “Morning.”
Zhao Chiyun was still groggy from waking. She glanced over, cool and aloof once more—the untouchable county princess again.
Shared bed or not.
Gan Xun shoved last night’s closeness from her mind and peeked past the curtain corner. The rain outside had paused.
Clouds had parted just enough for a sliver of daylight.
People carried on by that faint glow.
Monday—usually hell. Today, Gan Xun didn’t feel it.
She told Zhao Chiyun to lounge a bit longer. “I’ll make breakfast. How many eggs?”
“One.”
Gan Xun reached the door, then turned back. “Sleep okay last night?”
Zhao Chiyun took a few seconds to recall, then sat up and nodded. “I don’t even know when I fell asleep. Was it while I was in your arms?”
She asked based on the facts, her expression dignified, but Gan Xun couldn’t handle it at all.
How could there be a question like “while I was in your arms”?
Didn’t this ancient straight girl find that strange? Or were modern people just too dirty-minded?
Her mind exploded with thoughts for a moment, but her expression remained unchanged. “That’s right. I wanted to separate us, but I discovered you had already fallen asleep.”
Gan Xun cooked two packets of instant noodles to Zhao Chiyun’s liking, added plenty of vegetables, and fried some eggs.
The kitchen filled with a fragrant aroma. By the time she served the food, Zhao Chiyun had finished washing up and changed into the outfit Gan Xun had prepared for her in advance.
She asked Gan Xun, “I fell asleep, so I didn’t get a chance to ask. When you were holding me, did you have those thoughts you mentioned?”
She was truly relentless!
There were, but she couldn’t tell her.
Gan Xun laughed. “Good thing there weren’t any. I wasn’t drunk. Don’t worry, I didn’t take advantage of you while you were asleep.”
Zhao Chiyun smiled. “I told you you’re worrying unnecessarily.”
As a straight girl, how could her preferences change just from being intimate with another woman?
The same went the other way around. No matter how great men were, they no longer caught her eye.
They finished eating together and headed out with an umbrella.
It wasn’t easy for Gan Xun to both live and work here. There was no metro station near her neighborhood, so she usually rode a shared bike to the metro first, then took it to the company.
Today, with Zhao Chiyun along, she called a cab to the metro entrance. Then she let Zhao Chiyun experience the life of a crammed commuter on the subway.
Both wore masks as they stood in the peak-hour subway car.
Beyond just experiencing life, Gan Xun actually wanted Zhao Chiyun to understand that she didn’t even have a car, let alone the luxury of taking cabs every day.
She kept her living costs to the absolute minimum just to survive in this city.
This was her daily routine.
It was also the daily routine of many of the common folk Zhao Chiyun often mentioned.
Modern people got used to this kind of life and could even find enjoyment in it—no need to play the pity card. But how could Zhao Chiyun endure it?
She was a delicate flower raised with the utmost care, surrounded by admirers her whole life. She shouldn’t have to suffer unnecessary hardships.
But the moment they boarded the subway and got jostled by fellow wage slaves amid a mix of good and bad smells wafting over, Gan Xun regretted it.
She should have just taken a cab to the company.
Zhao Chiyun frowned. She couldn’t stand men and women squeezed together like that—what kind of propriety was this?
Though Gan Xun shielded her so she didn’t have to press against any men, having strange women crowding close still made her uncomfortable.
The smells were foul, and the noise was deafening.
After six or seven stops, a seat opened up in front of them. Gan Xun let Zhao Chiyun take it first.
Only after sitting did Zhao Chiyun feel like talking. “Have we been underground the whole time?”
“Yes, that way there’s no traffic, and it’s fast.”
“More magical than immortal arts.”
A line flashed through Gan Xun’s mind: This was the best of times and the worst of times.
When they exited the metro station, it surprisingly started raining. Gan Xun opened the umbrella and led her into the office building.
“There’s a coffee shop on the first floor. Do you want to sit here and wait, or come up with me?”
“Since I’ve come, of course I’ll accompany you upstairs.”
Gan Xun took her into the elevator. Unexpectedly, Zhao Chiyun’s expression remained calm this time. Gan Xun shielded her in the corner and thought back to right after grad school, when her ambitions were huge and her eyes were set only on big companies.
But the pace at big companies was too fast for her, so she jumped ship to a smaller one.
Unexpectedly, the small company paid less and offered fewer benefits, yet piled on more work.
With so few people in the whole company, there was still endless office politicking—endless drama that even affected bystanders, which was exhausting.
Especially one colleague, Zhuo Cheng, who had joined around the same time as her, front and back. For some reason, he insisted on treating her as a rival.
He was always harping on how his education wasn’t as good as hers, full of inferiority and arrogance. He didn’t hold back from badmouthing her to the boss behind her back.
Gan Xun had planned to quit in the second half of the year, but now it was a few months earlier than expected. Though annoying, it didn’t matter much. She just hadn’t saved enough to lay low for several months, which made her a bit anxious.
The moment they stepped out of the elevator, Gan Xun felt triggered—this place held too many unpleasant memories. But then she saw Zhao Chiyun let out a soft “wow” at the modern office space, and she instantly relaxed. She could just treat it like showing a country bumpkin around for fun.
Zhao Chiyun sat at the empty desk next to hers, not caring whether others liked it or not. It was her last half-day anyway—who were they to mind?
She removed her mask and sat upright. Gan Xun’s colleagues glanced her way, some more, some less, all staring at her face. She met their gazes coldly.
Gan Xun’s relationships with her colleagues were average at best. This place was cold in terms of human connections—mostly just superficial civility.
Only one female superior, President Chen, had always treated her well and seen her as talent. But she couldn’t keep Gan Xun around. According to the grapevine, this leader might not stick around much longer either.
Seeing that Gan Xun had brought a friend, President Chen greeted her warmly and told Zhao Chiyun to feel free to stay and wait.
Gan Xun first went to her direct boss’s office, endured a few nasty remarks, and held her tongue. She didn’t want to argue with this petty, needle-eyed balding man on her last day. Keep it dignified, dignified. After that, she went about handing over her work to her colleagues as usual before returning to her desk.
During this time, Zhao Chiyun observed her surroundings—people of all sorts, all in a rush. The environment was novel, but she didn’t like it. So she quietly practiced writing on a sheet of white paper, copying the words she saw around her, like the company’s name.
She even wrote “Gan Xun.”
When Gan Xun returned, she picked up the practice sheet and praised her. “Your handwriting with a pen looks so proper.”
Zhao Chiyun said indifferently, “What’s so difficult about it?”
Gan Xun laughed at her “anyone with hands can do it” arrogance, tossed out a couple of insincere compliments, sat down, and quickly filled out the forms.
It was rare for Zhao Chiyun to see her writing. Gan Xun’s handwriting was elegant and slender, just like her. Zhao Chiyun used her finger to trace and imitate it on the desk.
The paper had Gan Xun’s name, department, ID card number, phone number, and so on. Zhao Chiyun silently memorized them all.
Gan Xun handed the forms to HR, confirmed up to which month her social insurance contributions had been made, and when her salary would be paid. After chatting that over, she came back to find that a kind-hearted colleague had ordered milk tea.
Even one for Zhao Chiyun.
Gan Xun knew Zhao Chiyun wouldn’t touch it. She felt it and said, “This one’s too cold. She can’t drink it.”
“Then you drink two cups.”
Gan Xun took it. “Sure, I’ll drink two cups.”
They politely chatted about grabbing a meal together next time and how a new store had opened in the neighboring mall, though everyone knew it wouldn’t happen.
Gan Xun packed her things—not much, just a water cup, power bank, keyboard, and the like.
She stuffed them into her backpack, and that was it.
Finally, the colleague who had issues with Gan Xun came over. “I heard you’re leaving?”
“Mm.” Gan Xun looked down at her phone.
“Now that you’re gone, our workloads are going to get heavier. Why didn’t you say something sooner? We could’ve thrown you a send-off party.”
Gan Xun glanced at him. “No need for a send-off. Go ask the boss why he didn’t tell you earlier. Why ask me?”
“I was joking. Don’t get mad. Anyway, you never wanted to stay. I wish you luck finding a job with more money and less work.”
He chuckled. “But you should work on that temper of yours. I’m afraid your future colleagues won’t be as nice as me.”
Gan Xun ignored him and signaled for Zhao Chiyun to leave.
He didn’t step aside and turned to Zhao Chiyun. “Your friend’s really pretty. I noticed earlier. Won’t you introduce us?”
Gan Xun started getting angry. “Mind your own business.”
“I’m asking for someone. Does she have a partner? With so many single guys in the company, didn’t you bring her here to pick one?”
Gan Xun said coldly, “Zhuo Cheng, don’t be an ass.”
Zhao Chiyun sidestepped him and replied indifferently, “Instead of worrying about us, why don’t you look in a mirror? There’s gunk in your eyes—you didn’t wash your face this morning? Your breath is heavy too, you block the way, and you talk too much.”
Her voice wasn’t loud or soft—just right for half the office to hear. Someone laughed, and Zhuo Cheng’s face turned as ugly as if he’d lost his parents.
Gan Xun sighed inwardly. Why had he gone and provoked her?
She handed a wet wipe to her visibly shaken ex-colleague to clean his eyes and left with Zhao Chiyun.
Downstairs, she bought a cup of coffee—just one, guessing Zhao Chiyun wouldn’t like it.
Sure enough, Zhao Chiyun took one sip and paled. “Why do you have to drink medicine for work?”
Gan Xun sipped it. “To recharge my life.”
“Unheard of.” Such strange modern people.
It started raining outside. They called a cab home. While waiting, Gan Xun said, “Thanks for accompanying me today and cussing out my colleague for me.”
Having someone with her really made a difference—even the rain couldn’t dampen her mood.
Zhao Chiyun didn’t understand. “He disgusted you, so why didn’t you retort?”
“Because the more you engage, the more they push. I usually bicker with him, but today I didn’t want to scare you.”
Zhao Chiyun smiled faintly.
It was only after they got in the cab that Gan Xun realized what Zhao Chiyun was smiling about. Even if she had executed Zhuo Cheng’s nine generations on the spot, Zhao Chiyun probably would’ve thought it was no big deal.
The one who got scared easily had always been her.
They got home just in time, as the downpour began.
Gan Xun had ordered plenty of supplies to stock at home and charged everything that could be charged.
While Zhao Chiyun took a midday nap, she thought of what Cui Can had said. After struggling with it, she still made a call.
“Hello, Dad. I’d like to consult you about something.”
That evening, the typhoon made landfall. Though it hadn’t fully reached Mirror City yet, the wind and rain already blanketed the sky.
With the bad weather, Gan Xun started preparing dinner early. She made clam steamed eggs for Zhao Chiyun to change up her palate.
Zhao Chiyun practiced writing while studying, effortlessly transcribing Gan Xun’s personal information from memory.
During dinner, they watched a movie together. This time, Gan Xun picked a modern suspense crime-solving film.
Compared to the life dramas that made Gan Xun tear up, Zhao Chiyun preferred this one. She even ate an extra bowl of rice.
Some of the twists and crime scenes scared her, though. She was both inept and insistent on watching, clinging to Gan Xun’s arm as she earnestly told her, “Tonight, I’m sleeping on the inside. You have to sleep right next to me.”
Gan Xun: ?
