Chapter 44: Princess

Zhao Chiyun adapted too quickly. Gan Xun occasionally forgot that she had come from a rigidly hierarchical dynasty to this fierce new century of commoners in just twenty short days.

But most of the time, Gan Xun could feel that she hadn’t completely lost the confidence and aura belonging to someone in a high position.

Even when she had to be polite or respectful for the sake of social interaction, she carried an air of effortless pride.

A person like this, who had lingered in high positions for too long, could exert oppressive pressure even with gentle words if displeased.

Gan Xun unconsciously stood at attention.

She stood before her, taller in stature, yet her gaze fell lower than Zhao Chiyun’s, like a geography expert scrutinizing the sand, dirt, and pebbles underfoot.

Gan Xun had many guesses about why Zhao Chiyun asked her this.

Was it about today’s blind date, or their previous interactions?

She looked up, with no intention of dodging.

She wasn’t feigning ignorance but didn’t dare speak carelessly again. “Be more specific. I’m afraid I’ll misunderstand and make you uncomfortable again.”

Zhao Chiyun stared at her fixedly for a moment, then hummed and added with dissatisfaction, “Here, I have no one I can trust except you.”

Gan Xun nodded immediately. “I know that.”

She knew, so she felt heartbroken for Zhao Chiyun and did her best to take care of her, fulfilling her duties to the utmost within her capabilities.

Zhao Chiyun said sternly, “But you have your guard up against me.”

Gan Xun wished she could shout her innocence right there on the street. “I don’t have my guard up at all.”

This didn’t seem to align with what she had thought.

In early July on the streets of Mirror City, the sun blazed down from directly overhead. They stood under the shade of a tree, only two hundred meters from the mall where they planned to buy work clothes.

Stopping here to talk was a very unwise choice, but Gan Xun didn’t dare interject at that moment.

Zhao Chiyun pointed out her fault. “Ever since that night when I confided my past to you, you’ve treated me much more coldly afterward. Isn’t that having your guard up? Gan Xun, you were the one who said you weren’t homophobic. That’s why I told you.”

Gan Xun shook her head at first, then surprised herself with a moment of self-reflection. “Do I have any traces of homophobia?”

Others might not know, but how could Zhao Chiyun not?

She had been utterly unpromising. In front of the super charming county princess, she hadn’t even bothered to pretend. She had basically forgotten her initial persona and boundaries.

She felt Zhao Chiyun was turning the tables on her.

That night after Zhao Chiyun told her, she had been excited yet at a loss. She had then begun to think cautiously: Why had Zhao Chiyun suddenly opened up?

Was it to establish a clear boundary on the surface, or to pave the way for something more?

Gan Xun had also pondered how they should get along going forward, when she should come out, and how to communicate properly with Zhao Chiyun.

Until then, she decided to observe quietly and follow Zhao Chiyun’s lead.

However, Zhao Chiyun’s attitude over the past few days had been aloof. Gan Xun felt like she was raising a proud, high-cold cat that only did its own thing nearby.

She had even refused to come downstairs for walks, complaining it was too hot.

As a local, Gan Xun couldn’t push too hard. What could she do?

Today, when Zhao Chiyun refused to accompany her, Gan Xun feared she would overthink things at home. It took sweet-talking and coaxing to get her out.

There wasn’t a single part of her body that screamed “cold.”

Zhao Chiyun continued righteously, “It’s good that you don’t. How could you be homophobic? You’re the third person in the whole world, besides me and her, who knows.”

Gan Xun felt both touched and heartbroken. As the third party, she was overwhelmed with emotions and hurriedly interrupted to explain. “Definitely not. I know you trust me, and I cherish that deeply. I wouldn’t deliberately be cold to you.”

As she spoke, she aimed a handheld fan at Zhao Chiyun, blowing an alluring aura onto the sweating county princess. Strands of hair danced in the breeze, and where the sunlight refracted, it gleamed like high-fashion lighting, stunningly beautiful.

Zhao Chiyun felt much cooler from the fan and calmed down.

Gan Xun was frank. “I’ve always hoped you’d live well here. Whether you like men or women, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“But I admit, these past few days, seeing you in a bad mood, I didn’t dare approach you proactively. That was only because, knowing you like women, I didn’t want to treat you so casually anymore.”

How could she still casually hug and hold her?

On the streets, those who linked arms, flirted sweetly, or even wore matching sister outfits were mostly straight girls—the straighter ones showed it even more blatantly.

Zhao Chiyun pressed, “Why?”

Gan Xun removed her sunglasses, dropping all pretense and hesitation. Seizing the moment, she told Zhao Chiyun, “Because I like women too.”

With no turning back, she added, “I’m not straight.”

Zhao Chiyun fell silent for a moment, then suddenly broke into a bright smile.

She took Gan Xun’s sunglasses and helped put them back on, poking her forehead lightly just like the first time, causing a slight sting.

Now the county princess seemed quite satisfied. “Good. I can tell you’re not avoiding me anymore if you’re willing to say even this to me.”

Gan Xun realized she thought she was just coaxing her.

“I’m not saying it to coax you. Really, I’m not joking.”

Zhao Chiyun noticed she was even hotter now, sweat trickling down her jaw and into her collar. She led Gan Xun onward.

“But back then, you personally told me you were straight and told me not to tempt you.”

Those weren’t her exact words. Gan Xun cringed with extreme embarrassment. “Maybe I just said it offhandedly back then.”

“Then the people you liked before were women too?”

“Yeah, women. I’m not lying.”

Zhao Chiyun kept smiling, seemingly convinced that such a coincidence was pure fabrication from Gan Xun.

It wasn’t clear if she believed it or not, and she didn’t probe whether it had been casual talk then or now.

She nodded with relief. “In that case, I’ll believe you. With all your experience, you wouldn’t distance yourself from me just because I told you the truth.”

She had been worried and uneasy these past two days.

Though she loved women, she always had people surrounding her, bound by all sorts of rules. She couldn’t—and had no desire to—overstep.

That first night of meeting, Gan Xun had worn thin sleepwear, boldly displaying her slender, beautiful arms and legs. It sent ripples through Zhao Chiyun’s heart again and again.

Gan Xun hadn’t blow-dried her hair, merely towel-dried it to a half-damp state. Casually, right in front of her, she applied medicine to her legs and spoke to her on equal terms.

Zhao Chiyun had feigned composure, but she had witnessed a woman’s most effortless beauty—not like a delicate flower, but like resilient grass and trees.

As they grew closer afterward, sharing a bed, Zhao Chiyun knew she had fallen for her. She had never felt this before, and it would be hard to feel it again after returning home.

She didn’t necessarily want Gan Xun to reciprocate or anything. Her time here was uncertain; everything depended on fate.

She simply worried that Gan Xun, who had once been carefree in their closeness, would now keep her at a respectful distance.

Because that was how it had always been in the past.

Things had been fine until the truth came out—then even friendship became impossible.

Gan Xun said earnestly, “Of course I wouldn’t do that.”

“You mustn’t, naturally.”

Zhao Chiyun continued, “Here, I often miss home and my parents. Now I consider you important. Not everyone has such an honor.”

Gan Xun laughed. “Oh my god, that makes me sound too honored. Must be my ancestors’ good deeds—ancestral grave smoking green.”

Zhao Chiyun had probably heard such expressions often and didn’t suspect any sarcasm.

She felt gratified by Gan Xun’s perfectly fitting words.

Facing someone who longed for home and her parents, Gan Xun couldn’t confess her feelings, afraid of binding someone who didn’t belong here.

But she couldn’t help being moved by such a vivid, endearing person. After laughing, she said sincerely, without any pressure, “Don’t worry about me distancing myself—that would be utter treason! I wouldn’t dare. Do whatever you like; I’ll always be there with you.”

“Because you’re the county princess.”

Zhao Chiyun, now fully placated and beaming, replied, “It’s not for nothing that you’ve been with me so long. Your comprehension is improving.”

And just like that, they made up and agreed to continue their walk.

The refreshing air-conditioned breeze in the mall made them feel much better.

Gan Xun’s back was soaked with sweat, clinging to her skin, but she ignored it and led Zhao Chiyun from store to store.

Though they had bought clothes recently—some still unworn—Gan Xun hadn’t known then that she planned to work. The styles and prices had been too casual.

Today, she brought her to buy two outfits for work. Clothes made the person, and it would give her more confidence in the new environment.

That was how Gan Xun relieved her own stress: new places, new clothes, fantasies of a new life.

Once decided, Zhao Chiyun didn’t stand on ceremony. Hearing that money wasn’t an issue, she entered a women’s clothing store that suited her taste.

After browsing, following Gan Xun’s suggestions, she selected two intellectual-style outfits.

The store had high heels, and Zhao Chiyun went over with interest.

These days, she had seen many women wearing them. Cui Can loved them, and Gan Xun had two pairs buried deep in her closet—clearly rarely worn.

A few days ago, she had tried a pair on her and said they weren’t comfortable. Unexpectedly, Zhao Chiyun managed steadily and adapted after walking a circle.

Gan Xun asked, “Want to try some?”

Zhao Chiyun nodded immediately.

After trying several pairs, she picked a nude-colored one—simple and gentle. Gan Xun praised her taste, so they bought it.

During payment, Gan Xun’s phone signal was poor, and the transfer took forever.

Zhao Chiyun suspected she was skimping on money. After leaving the store, she told her, “Cui Can promised to settle my wages every two weeks. In half a month, I’ll be using my own money.”

“Yes, in half a month, you’ll escape poverty.”

The term was too humiliating. Zhao Chiyun grew furious just hearing it and stormed off.

Back home, Gan Xun went to the bathroom first. When she came out, she said, “My period came.”

Zhao Chiyun looked puzzled.

Gan Xun gestured politely, and Zhao Chiyun understood immediately. “You’ve got your monthly flow.”

The term was rarely heard nowadays. Gan Xun savored it. “Sounds kinda weird.”

Zhao Chiyun huffed, refusing to yield. “Your terms sound weird too.”

“You haven’t had yours yet. What was your cycle like before?”

For some reason, Zhao Chiyun felt a bit shy discussing it.

Without looking at her, she said, “Time flows differently here from Mirror Country, so I can’t say for sure. It’s been over twenty days, so it should be soon.”

Gan Xun sat beside her. “Oh, anyway, tell me right away when it happens. I’ll teach you.”

Zhao Chiyun’s voice rose slightly. “Teach me what?”

“Pads, tampons, sanitary napkins—do you know how to use them?”

Zhao Chiyun ignored her, face flushing red as she retreated to her room and shut the door.

Gan Xun leaned back on the sofa, utterly baffled at why ancient people were shy about such strange things.

That night before bed, Gan Xun brushed off Gan Hua’s probing questions. When asked how the talk went, she vaguely said it was okay, nothing special.

He then pressed for progress.

Gan Hua sent a voice message saying the materials were all prepared. They should go tomorrow morning to handle it—straight through the process.

Zhao Chiyun overheard and set her book aside to ask, “Does your period cause you discomfort?”

Gan Xun had a lucky constitution and barely felt anything.

But since Zhao Chiyun asked, she immediately replied, “Yes.”

Zhao Chiyun fretted, “You should drink more hot water.”

“…”

Too folksy.

“Why don’t you rub it for me?”

Mimicking Zhao Chiyun’s usual spoiled tone, she pretended to complain, “Is it because I’m just a commoner?”

Zhao Chiyun reacted like water about to boil over. She hurriedly placed her hand on Gan Xun’s belly.

To appease her, “I didn’t say I wouldn’t rub.”

Gan Xun directed, “A bit lower.”

Zhao Chiyun first obediently shifted to her lower abdomen, then realized she was being bossed around.

“Even a princess isn’t as demanding as you.”