Chapter 43: Even Taking Ten Thousand Steps Back

Gan Xun couldn’t control her volume. “You like women?”

“Yes.”

“The kind of like where you want to date them?”

“Yes.”

In contrast to Gan Xun’s reaction was the light at the bedside, a soft goose-yellow that gently draped over them.

Zhao Chiyun’s voice was soft as she answered, the palm stroking her waist was soft, and the kiss that had landed on her lips earlier was also soft.

It was so soft, unlike that of a full-bodied ancient person with a past and an uncertain future—like a phantom, a patch of warm light.

Gan Xun felt like she had been drawn into a dream by that light, left with only this bit of visual feedback; she couldn’t sense anything more.

Her heartbeat, her breathing, the expression she should have restrained—all became unimportant options in that moment.

After her words fell, she hurriedly propped herself up on her elbows, scrutinizing Zhao Chiyun in near panic.

But she couldn’t read Zhao Chiyun’s expression.

Zhao Chiyun had “lurked” silently for so long. At first, she didn’t even know the concept of being gay and had solemnly said she wasn’t homophobic, clearly with no intention of coming out.

Now she had suddenly said it outright, with resounding clarity.

It startled Gan Xun. With her tsundere personality, she probably found it amusing.

But for some reason, as Zhao Chiyun met her gaze with a smile playing on her lips, her eyes revealed a well-hidden worry—or tension.

Or maybe Gan Xun had seen it wrong.

Her eyes flowed with captivating beauty, shimmering with radiance. Gan Xun only thought she was stunningly beautiful and didn’t trust her own judgment.

Gan Xun thought, how could this be possible?

Then she thought again, why not? Don’t be so narrow-minded; there were plenty of non-straight people in ancient times.

Still, after a moment of daze, she carefully asked, “How come?”

She was still worried that Zhao Chiyun was joking with her.

Or that they had just happened to be talking about it, and she said it to amuse her.

Zhao Chiyun countered, “Why couldn’t I?”

“You never told me, so I always assumed you were straight, and the person you liked was a man.”

Gan Xun had been propped up for too long, and her arms were going numb.

She didn’t want to keep supporting herself like this, so she lay back down. This actually put a little distance between her and Zhao Chiyun, who hadn’t moved. Gan Xun didn’t know if she should keep looking at her.

“Right, I should be straight. Like my Big Sister, marrying the man her parents approved of with a heart full of joy.”

Zhao Chiyun said softly, “But for some reason, the one I fell for was a woman.”

“There’s no ‘should be’ about it. Liking women is nothing; it’s just innate, or maybe she was just too outstanding.”

Gan Xun comforted her, not wanting her to overthink it.

Hearing her voice drop, Gan Xun turned to look at her and noticed a hint of melancholy. She guessed that mentioning someone from her past had made her sad again.

Unrequited love was always painful.

It was one thing if she were still in the Mirror Country—they could each marry and see each other occasionally.

But now she couldn’t go back, and that person was gone forever.

Gan Xun instinctively sympathized with her, yet it felt like swallowing a very bitter fruit—hard to get down, and it left her uncomfortable.

She thought she was the strange one. Before, when she heard Zhao Chiyun had a fiancé and a crush, she hadn’t taken it too seriously.

Because for a normal woman, ancient or modern, having such relationships and emotions was perfectly natural.

Normal as it was, she still didn’t like it much.

But she had no right to be displeased, so she tried not to think about it.

That was male-female romance from another spacetime, with no connection to her world.

But now, knowing Zhao Chiyun liked women, her mindset crumbled a bit.

At first, she was shocked, then there was a moment of joy, sparking greater hopes.

Now, how to put it? She felt a twinge of jealousy.

She had thought she was special. No matter what intentions Zhao Chiyun had in approaching her, she was that special existence.

Even realistically analyzing human nature, her closeness and intimacy were Zhao Chiyun’s necessary means to stay, just like cutting her hair or working. Gan Xun believed Zhao Chiyun had her own principles.

A noble County Princess, no matter how adaptable, wouldn’t tolerate throwing herself at someone she didn’t like.

At least, Zhao Chiyun didn’t feel bad about her; she was willing to bicker and get close in that playful way.

Now she realized she wasn’t that special. Zhao Chiyun was inclined toward women to begin with.

Finally, a fear and urge to flee arose in her.

She worried about so many uncontrollable things, couldn’t fathom Zhao Chiyun’s true feelings, and felt ashamed of her own budding affection and hopes.

“Why aren’t you talking?”

Zhao Chiyun asked.

Gan Xun said, “Thinking about stuff.”

“About what?”

Gan Xun masked her emotions and casually asked, “The person you like, since she knew the County Princess, she must not be ordinary, right?”

“Looks like you’re more interested in her.”

Gan Xun gave a dry laugh. “No, just chatting.”

Zhao Chiyun was silent for a moment before saying, “Of course. She was born into the Prime Minister’s Mansion, niece of a favored consort in the palace, beautiful and talented, with a kind and humble personality.”

“So outstanding. It’s normal to fall for her.”

As expected, the person Zhao Chiyun liked wouldn’t be some ordinary commoner.

Gan Xun realized she was asking for abuse after hearing it.

She asked, “Shall we sleep?”

She sat up, ready to turn off the light.

Zhao Chiyun asked, “Don’t you have anything else to say to me?”

She might have been a bit anxious. Gan Xun thought for a moment and gave her reassurance. “You don’t need to worry about coming out. Relax, it won’t affect anything.”

“Oh.”

Zhao Chiyun sounded relieved.

Gan Xun didn’t want to deepen her anxiety. They both needed time to process; her own confession could wait.

So she smiled gently at her and turned off the light.

The night passed like that. In her dreams, Gan Xun felt like she was pecked again, but in the dream, she had no strength to kiss back.

Only afterward did she regret not responding to that kiss properly.

It might not be convenient anymore.

Before, thinking Zhao Chiyun didn’t like women, was thinking of someone else, and had a fiancé far away, her own efforts felt relatively safe.

She figured their intimate interactions were like a dependence born of helplessness in a foreign land—no one else to serve her, so she sought warmth from Gan Xun.

When she couldn’t help herself and overindulged occasionally, the County Princess would see it as natural. Nothing serious.

Even if Zhao Chiyun was just playing around, Gan Xun was willing—enjoying it, and selfishly drawing warmth from it.

Now that Zhao Chiyun wasn’t straight, she would have to come out eventually out of courtesy, and then they couldn’t keep pretending anymore.

She didn’t sleep well that whole night.

A couple of days later, Gan Hua arranged for Gan Xun to go on the blind date, at the same restaurant as before.

Having talked about it earlier, Gan Xun worried Zhao Chiyun might still be unhappy and invited her along.

Zhao Chiyun refused, saying she didn’t want to ruin her good thing.

Gan Xun laughed. “I wish.”

In the end, Zhao Chiyun went, but didn’t sit with her, afraid it would be too rude and give Gan Hua more ammunition.

Zhao Chiyun ordered a cup of coffee and sat by the window, admiring the view outside.

Gan Xun kept looking at her.

These past two days, Zhao Chiyun’s attitude toward her had cooled a bit, less clingy than before.

Maybe Gan Xun was overthinking, but the daily cuddly moments were gone. Zhao Chiyun had been busy studying, even wanting to learn English from scratch, and asked Gan Xun very seriously.

Gan Xun thought she might be under too much pressure—with work, training, preparing lessons, and dealing with people.

She didn’t disturb her much, just handled her own duties and took care of her life.

She thought dejectedly that it would have been better if she didn’t know Zhao Chiyun liked women; maybe she could have kept deluding herself and gotten closer.

Now she didn’t know what to do.

Though she had many thoughts, it was because she couldn’t resist the temptation—everyone likes to dream.

But she’d never thought of actually being with Zhao Chiyun. Their statuses didn’t match; Gan Xun didn’t care, but she didn’t think Zhao Chiyun wouldn’t. Why take advantage of her vulnerability and tie her down now? Too selfish.

Even taking ten thousand steps back, if Zhao Chiyun liked her and was willing to date, Gan Xun didn’t want a long-distance relationship—someday suddenly losing her girlfriend, never to meet again.

Gan Xun couldn’t bear it.

Besides, there was no “ten thousand steps back” possibility.

Sitting across from her was a young man in a suit.

He looked a few years older than Gan Xun. He introduced himself as Yin Shangwen, average-looking, but his demeanor wasn’t sleazy, so the process could proceed.

Gan Xun was absent-minded the whole time. She saw Zhao Chiyun pick up her phone and snap a few shots out the window.

She looked out too, but her view was blocked; she didn’t see anything worth photographing.

Yin Shangwen turned back curiously and saw an elegantly poised woman from behind in that direction. “Your friend?”

Gan Xun was caught and said apologetically, “Yeah, she’s here to keep me from getting nervous.”

Their conversation didn’t click, so they just exchanged family backgrounds.

Yin Shangwen was Zhuang Ping’s nephew, but only distantly related; they didn’t interact much.

She didn’t know what favor he owed Gan Hua to come eat this meal, and Zhuang Ping herself might not even support it.

Digging deeper, Gan Xun found they were a match in the conventional sense.

Yin Shangwen was an illegitimate child with older siblings. Though his father was wealthy, his position was insignificant, and he wouldn’t inherit much.

Gan Xun was surprised he revealed such private matters. He probably wasn’t interested in her and was saying this to make her back off.

She was thrilled inside but smiled mildly on the surface. “We’re in the same boat.”

Yin Shangwen paled instead, thinking she wanted to cling to him. He hurriedly pushed back. “Miss Gan, you’re very pretty and witty. I was stuttering the whole time; you clearly wouldn’t look at someone like me.”

Gan Xun didn’t know how to respond.

She just saw Zhao Chiyun finish her coffee. She didn’t seem to mind the bitterness this time; it must have suited her taste.

Before she could turn back, the phone on the table lit up. Yin Shangwen’s robotic expression instantly came alive, as if afraid the caller would hang up. He snatched it up and answered.

“Shu Tang—no, Sister-in-Law, is there something you need?”

He stood and walked aside to take the call, all flustered and stammering, not even sparing Gan Xun a glance.

Gan Xun, force-fed this drama, took a sip of water to steady herself. Where did Gan Hua find these people?

Zhao Chiyun turned back at that moment, glanced at her, seemingly puzzled why the man had suddenly left.

Gan Xun walked straight over. “We’ll wrap up when he gets back. Tired of waiting?”

“It’s only been a quarter of an hour.”

Zhao Chiyun glanced up at her. “You didn’t take a liking to him?”

Her tone was odd. Gan Xun smiled. “Don’t tease me. He’s not willing; he has someone in his heart.”

Zhao Chiyun nodded slowly. “So it’s he who has someone.”

Gan Xun couldn’t wait for him to return and eagerly shared the gossip, leaning down to whisper in Zhao Chiyun’s ear, “He seems to have a thing for his sister-in-law.”

A crack appeared in Zhao Chiyun’s composed expression. “He even told you about that?”

“I’ll explain later. He’s back.”

Gan Xun quickly returned to her seat. Yin Shangwen, off the call, said to her, “Sorry, something urgent came up; I have to leave.”

Gan Xun pretended ignorance. “I overheard. Your sister-in-law?”

Yin Shangwen nodded. “My brother’s new girlfriend.”

He said “sister-in-law” meant his brother calling him home for something, so he had to go immediately.

Their blind date ended just like that, without even exchanging WeChat.

On the way back, Gan Xun told Zhao Chiyun all the chat details. Zhao Chiyun seemed unhappy. “How brazen. If he wasn’t willing, why waste your time?”

“He probably couldn’t refuse. No good excuse—can’t exactly say he’s hung up on his brother’s girlfriend and doesn’t want to date right now.”

Zhao Chiyun was amused by her absurd words and gave her a playful glare.

Gan Xun leaned in and asked, “What did you take pictures of earlier?”

Zhao Chiyun asked, “How did you see me taking them?”

Gan Xun was puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I see?”

“I thought you two were hitting it off and had no attention to spare.”

Now Gan Xun knew something was up. She promised, “We didn’t even exchange contacts. No second time. Don’t be mad.”

“I wouldn’t get mad at a commoner.” Zhao Chiyun huffed coldly.

“Fine, County Princess is magnanimous. So what did you take?”

“None of your business.”

Gan Xun insisted. “Let me see.”

“No.”

“You’re so heartless.”

Gan Xun thought, what a tough woman.

Who knew Zhao Chiyun would say solemnly, “You’re the heartless one.”

Gan Xun fell silent.

Amid her confusion, Zhao Chiyun asked frankly, “Don’t you know what I mean?”