Chapter 27: The Deep Courtyard

The foul weather compressed the city tighter and tighter, forcing people to huddle indoors. The entire neighborhood was steeped in thick, sticky darkness.

Lead-gray clouds kept dumping rain, twisting tree shadows into grotesque shapes, with puddles like filthy oil.

As soon as Gan Xun said it, she regretted it.

Whether Zhao Zhiyun wore underwear or not didn’t matter, especially in a powerless house.

Maybe Zhao Zhiyun had already gotten used to it. It had seemed natural at first, but Gan Xun’s question made her wonder what Gan Xun had seen.

In truth, Gan Xun hadn’t seen anything. She wouldn’t deliberately stare at such places on others.

It was just that the plain gray fabric highlighted the contours and folds more clearly. When the light hit it, it reminded her of her own blunder.

She wasn’t sure if Zhao Zhiyun would feel awkward.

The desk lamp shone directly on the coffee table without glaring in their eyes; they were both in each other’s peripheral vision.

Zhao Zhiyun sat cross-legged on the sofa, while Gan Xun perched on the small linen stool beside the coffee table.

Looking up like this gave her a clear view of Zhao Zhiyun—and the mole on her thigh.

Idly, she thought maybe no more than five people in the world even knew that mole existed.

Zhao Zhiyun disliked the thunder outside; it made her doubt if this space could truly shelter her.

But Gan Xun’s words diverted her attention. She pursed her lips slightly and blinked slowly twice.

Then she raised a hand to cover her chest.

“…”

In the end, the one who felt awkward was Gan Xun.

Zhao Zhiyun hadn’t covered up completely, and in her daze, Gan Xun noticed the pajama neckline looked faded from too many washes.

In this situation, she thought she should take Zhao Zhiyun shopping for properly fitting new clothes.

She quickly tallied her balance in her mind and earmarked some budget. Once the typhoon passed, she’d take Zhao Zhiyun to physical stores.

Zhao Zhiyun’s gaze sharpened in warning. “I’ll gouge your eyes out.”

But the day we met, you were holding up underwear to your chest, sizing it.

Recalling that accidental glimpse, Gan Xun forgave her fierce tone and gently reminded her, “That would land you in jail.”

Then she added, “I wasn’t peeking. It just popped into my head.”

She held up the little fan and blew it toward Zhao Zhiyun’s face to cool her down.

Gan Xun’s expression was utterly sincere, and Zhao Zhiyun calmed quickly.

She said, “I thought it was because of the rain and no clean clothes.”

Gan Xun’s tight finances went without saying. Despite the inconveniences, Zhao Zhiyun was understanding.

From her grad school internship to now, Gan Xun had moved five times, purging unnecessary items each time, so she didn’t have many clothes.

Luckily, summer clothes dried fast after a quick wring, so she could spare a few for Zhao Zhiyun.

“You’ve got some. If you’re comfortable like that, no problem. It’s pitch black anyway, and we’re both girls. If not, go put some on.”

Zhao Zhiyun lowered her gaze, appraising herself.

“How could it not be clear? It’s pretty eye-catching, but you don’t treat me like an outsider anyway. Besides, you’re straight, not like Cui Can. No harm done.”

At home, Gan Xun never wore any, and her outfits were revealing. She’d nap on the sofa in a camisole and tiny sleep shorts without even a blanket.

When Zhao Zhiyun walked in and caught her, the phrase “jade body sprawled out” came to mind.

She’d wanted to warn Gan Xun it was improper—even at home, since she was there too.

But she worried Gan Xun might overthink it and say something like, “We’re both women.”

Over time, though, she realized it was a healthy kind of beauty, not lascivious.

Gan Xun could only manage a forced smile.

She’d forgotten the exact conversation, but the first time she told Zhao Zhiyun she was straight, it was probably defensive—to keep her from getting ideas.

Back then, she hadn’t yet started seeing Zhao Zhiyun as someone from ancient times; it was just offhand, not meant to hide or conceal anything.

For instance, if Zhao Zhiyun had been a guy, she would’ve said, “No worries, I’m into women.”

But Zhao Zhiyun took it seriously, treating “she’s straight” as canon.

So now Gan Xun couldn’t just say, “Actually, I like women too.”

It would make their interactions awkward and make Zhao Zhiyun suspicious of her intentions—especially since Zhao Zhiyun had arrived amid the Xu Yanyan case, which might leave psychological scars.

Their hugs, hand-holding, sharing a bed, even her insistence on staying—all could take on a different light.

She could only go along. “Right, women’s underwear freedom.”

Gan Xun tried to put her at ease, saying as long as she didn’t want to, going out without was her right.

Let alone at home—if she hated the constraint, she could skip it entirely.

Gan Xun’s underwear was all comfy; Zhao Zhiyun hadn’t found it uncomfortable. Feeling it out, going without did feel refreshingly free.

She just couldn’t imagine doing it outside.

Thinking Gan Xun was joking again, stringing her along with absurdities, she fired back playfully.

“Fine then. Tomorrow, go out without yours, and I’ll take a look.”

Gan Xun paused. “Tomorrow’s still pouring; we can’t go out.”

Another pause, then she figured she should lead by example to teach Zhao Zhiyun about “freedom.”

“Day after, then. I won’t wear any, and we’ll go shopping.”

She had nipple pasties.

Zhao Zhiyun cut her off sharply. “Absolutely not!”

Gan Xun froze, then wondered if Zhao Zhiyun just didn’t want to go out in public—but they went out daily.

Zhao Zhiyun hadn’t expected her to mean it and was deeply displeased. “Don’t even think about it, Gan Xun. Ragged clothes are bad enough for going out; skipping underwear is rude and shameless.”

Shorts and tanks were one thing—plenty on the streets—but baring the chest? Zhao Zhiyun hadn’t seen many women do that. The few she had were already lacking in shame, and how could Gan Xun?

Gan Xun was shocked again. Wasn’t this your idea first? Why call me shameless?

What a feudal lord, flipping the script like that.

But she got it; Zhao Zhiyun couldn’t accept it, and that was normal.

It was summer, sure, and she’d laid the theoretical groundwork, but even Gan Xun would feel burdened going out with just pasties.

Zhao Zhiyun, even more so—she’d had people kowtowing and washing her feet days ago. Forcing her to go braless now was like yanking seedlings to make them grow faster.

Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, Gan Xun took the desk lamp to cook.

She left Zhao Zhiyun on the sofa with the tablet, warning her not to use it in the dark or she’d get nearsighted and not see clearly.

Zhao Zhiyun wasn’t dumb; she didn’t think it was scare tactics. Obediently, she set it aside—not looking, just listening to the history from Gan Xun’s world line.

The broad strokes of similarities and differences.

How this Gan Xun had been shaped.

Gan Xun kept the meal simple and soon served it.

Her back was soaked in sweat again. She asked if she smelled bad; Zhao Zhiyun leaned in and said yes.

Then, “Just kidding.”

Suddenly, Gan Xun didn’t want to feed her.

They ate dinner under the desk lamp. Zhao Zhiyun, reminded of yesterday’s movie, scooted her chair closer to Gan Xun.

Unsure why, Gan Xun tensed as she drew near and said, “We’ll just get hotter crammed together.”

Zhao Zhiyun asked, “Does that mean you don’t plan to sleep together tonight?”

Gan Xun hadn’t meant that but could only say, “Maybe we should sleep separately. I’ll take the sofa.”

“Power outage, thunder, pouring rain—and you want to leave me alone in the room?”

Zhao Zhiyun was annoyed. “No one’s more heartless than you.”

Gan Xun protested innocence and quickly said, “I’ll sleep with you. I just worried you’d be too hot.”

Zhao Zhiyun then admitted, “I’m not afraid of heat. Just a bit scared.”

This weather was straight out of a crime thriller. Gan Xun reassured her, “Don’t worry. It’ll be better by tomorrow.”

The words sounded odd once spoken, but seeing Zhao Zhiyun’s haughty expression sobered her. She reminded herself:

You’re just the night-shift maid.

Remembering something, she got up to rummage in the cabinet.

Cui Can had brought back candles from a classmate’s bridal shower as favors. Disliking such gimmicks, she’d given them to Gan Xun.

Gan Xun wasn’t wild about them either and had left them there.

Now she thought of them, figuring Zhao Zhiyun would like something fancy and impractical.

She lit one with a match. The flame crackled on the wooden wick, filling the air with wedding-rose scent mingled with sandalwood.

Through the candlelight, she saw Zhao Zhiyun looking back at her.

Her gaze was serene as an old deep courtyard—dignified and noble, like a majestic stone lion.

But past the intimidating front yard lay its true allure, seductive and enchanting as autumn waters.

Gan Xun didn’t know if she’d made it past, but she recalled carrying Zhao Zhiyun through the water earlier—her heartbeat pounding against Gan Xun’s back.

Unusually fast.

She’d thought it was fear, but once set down, Zhao Zhiyun showed no panic.

Gan Xun had checked seriously and concluded Zhao Zhiyun’s heart just beat a bit faster than average.

That’s when Cui Can called with voice chat. Gan Xun guided Zhao Zhiyun to answer.

Cui Can was concerned. “Typhoon’s hit full force. You two okay at home? Got food and water?”

“We’ve got everything,” Gan Xun said. “But our neighborhood’s out of power.”

“Ah? That’s awful. Should’ve come here; we’ve still got ours.”

Gan Xun had no experience with this and hadn’t thought to bring Zhao Zhiyun over.

Zhao Zhiyun thought it simple and ordered, “Have her drive over and pick us up now.”

Gan Xun grabbed her wrist. “Don’t scare Teacher Cui. It’s windy and rainy—driving’s dangerous, and streets are flooded. The car would stall before she got here.”

Zhao Zhiyun nodded vaguely. “I see.”

“Exactly, Your Ladyship. Deep down, she’s just a little woman who gets scared.”

Gan Xun and Zhao Zhiyun both got goosebumps.

Cui Can asked, “Phone battery okay? Hope power comes back soon. Got other ways to kill time? What’re you up to?”

“Candle.”

“Nothing.”

They answered together; Gan Xun, with her extra word, got called out.

Cui Can teased, “You’re not being straight with me. Playing that wild already?”

Her tone was suggestive. Gan Xun didn’t bother arguing, shot back a few lines, and hung up.

“What did she mean?”

Zhao Zhiyun was baffled. “You only mentioned the candle. Why laugh at you like that?”

“No idea.”

Gan Xun looked innocent. “She’s just noisy.”

After washing dishes, Gan Xun couldn’t stand it and took another quick shower.

Then they really started entertaining themselves, squeezing onto the sofa to watch a movie.

A comedy, but the signal sucked—choppy and glitchy.

Getting annoyed, they quit.

Zhao Zhiyun said she wanted to hear more ancient history. Gan Xun agreed, searching while asking, “Any insights from studying these days? Different from what you knew back then?”

“If you really immerse yourself, you’ll see the parallels despite differences. It’s not hard. Just many things I’ve never heard of, so starting from scratch takes effort.”

Her tone was casual, making it seem like nothing fazed her.

Gan Xun didn’t doubt she meant it.

“Gan Xun, your education level is high?”

“You know about education levels now?”

“It’s just exams. How hard could it be?”

“Not really high. Just a few more years of school than average.”

Gan Xun understated it. “But it doesn’t seem useful.”

Zhao Zhiyun disagreed. “How could studying be useless?”

“So many talents out there; they don’t need me. High pay’s out of reach, low pay’s a dead-end.”

Deep down, Gan Xun knew she was slacking a bit.

But Zhao Zhiyun smiled. “You’re still young, unmarried, no rush to make your mark. This is just tempering. Someday you’ll see—your skills will find their use.”

She said it with utter conviction.

Gan Xun thought it too idealistic, out of touch with the times. What did an ancient noble know of common struggles?

But she didn’t want to shoot it down, didn’t want her cynicism snuffing that spark.

She wanted to believe it. Loved hearing her talk.

No helping it.

Wanted to hug her again.

No helping that either.