Chapter 45: The Moon and the Night Light

Without the sound of guitar from upstairs or the arguments from next door, the nighttime felt as quiet as a crescent moon, even though it belonged to two people.

Lazing back with her princess airs while enjoying the County Princess’s clumsy yet earnest belly rub, Gan Xun thought of a phrase: taking advantage of her favor.

The clumsy, gentle pressure came through her thin sleepwear, immersing her in sweetness.

In the past, she never would have dared to order Zhao Zhiyun around.

This noble flower was so delicate that even washing her own undergarments would leave her holding up her reddened hands for others to see, frowning as she complained that it hurt.

Gan Xun had the softest heart and would occasionally help her out—it was no trouble, and afterward, she found it wasn’t as unacceptable or embarrassingly shameful as she’d imagined.

But she absolutely never would have let Zhao Zhiyun return the favor by doing things for her. That would have been utterly absurd.

Who could pluck the moon from the sky to serve as a night light?

But today was different. Today, they had finally opened up to each other.

Zhao Zhiyun had said it was because she trusted her and relied on her that she shared the secret known to only three people.

And Gan Xun was willing to make Zhao Zhiyun—who missed home as much as she did—feel as comfortable as possible here. Whatever Zhao Zhiyun wanted, she would do her utmost to provide.

No need to overthink anything else for now.

Her thoughts drifted lightly like flying catkins, back to the bustling streets of the daytime.

Green shade, bright sun, cars shuttling east and west, weaving a noisy summer scene.

The ripple in Zhao Zhiyun’s eyes made her say, “You’re so heartless,” pricking Gan Xun’s heart like a needle tip once again, stirring up a dense ache.

She felt so stupid—downright foolish.

Only now did she realize how perfect the atmosphere had been that night, coaxing Zhao Zhiyun to speak the truth.

Zhao Zhiyun had stroked her back, held her, kissed her, and only then solemnly confessed her sexual orientation.

All that gradual buildup was clearly to reassure her, to keep her from being shocked or flustered.

But Gan Xun’s mental fortitude wasn’t up to par—perhaps out of guilt, her fear and panic had taken over first.

From the moment she learned the truth, she’d been consumed by panic over her own feelings. Though she’d caught the fleeting tension in Zhao Zhiyun’s eyes, she’d still overlooked it—that even a lofty County Princess could spiral into wild thoughts over losing her secret.

She gently pressed the hand on her lower abdomen. The back of it was slightly cool. Meeting Zhao Zhiyun’s gaze, she smiled and said, “There, much better.”

Zhao Zhiyun accepted it without question, believing her efforts were worth it. She flashed a brilliant smile, revealing pearly teeth. “Miraculous hands bring the dying back to life.”

Her tone rose and fell dramatically. Gan Xun was infected by her radiant mood and couldn’t hold back. She took Zhao Zhiyun’s hand, planting a loud kiss on it.

“Thanks, divine healer.”

The affection came out of nowhere, leaving the divine healer puzzled. “Gan Xun, what’s wrong with you?”

Caught off guard and questioned in the midst of her impulsive moment, Gan Xun’s ears heated up in a fluster. “Nothing, I just wanted to kiss it.”

Zhao Zhiyun suddenly pulled her hand back, her tone a mix of shy annoyance and haughty pride. “Insolent! I didn’t give you permission to kiss it.”

Gan Xun immediately shrank back, mumbling an apology. “Sorry.”

Even though they’d done far more brazen things.

“So thin-skinned.”

Zhao Zhiyun seemed to have discovered something amusing.

She leaned in like she was teasing a little bird. “Well, now I permit it. Where do you want to kiss?”

Gan Xun leaned against the headboard, meeting those sparkling eyes. She saw the trap ahead, carpeted in vibrant flowers, and decided to dive in.

But she wasn’t content to go quietly. “Your tongue.”

Zhao Zhiyun flared up. “Shameless!”

Gan Xun raised her hands in surrender. “I was just kidding.”

Zhao Zhiyun’s face flushed crimson, as if she’d never heard such crude words in her life—as if she’d already been defiled. She turned over and lay down to sleep.

Gan Xun thought, You asked, but can’t handle the answer.

She turned off the light. “Alright, time to sleep. You have work tomorrow.”

When she lay down, she found Zhao Zhiyun still facing away, silent.

She scrambled for conversation. “Zhiyun, are you nervous about starting work tomorrow?”

Zhao Zhiyun replied, “No classes tomorrow. Cui Can said it’s just simple training.”

“Still, it’s a new environment—your first job. Can’t help but be a little nervous.”

Gan Xun projected her own feelings.

“Accompanying a ruler is like accompanying a tiger. This County Princess grew up in the palace, often walking before the emperor. What haven’t I seen? Teaching writing and ink is no big deal.”

“You’re right. The County Princess has seen it all— no wonder you’re so composed.”

Gan Xun agreed, her fingertip lightly poking Zhao Zhiyun’s spine.

Zhao Zhiyun instantly arched her back, letting out a flustered, alluring breath, but said nothing more.

Gan Xun smiled, figuring she just didn’t feel like turning around tonight. It wasn’t just because of that comment—the County Princess wasn’t petty. She was probably just tired.

So she didn’t disturb her further and began drifting off.

Just as her consciousness started to blur, Zhao Zhiyun turned back, placing her warm palm on Gan Xun’s lower abdomen and rubbing it gently.

Then she nestled her head into Gan Xun’s shoulder hollow. Soon, Gan Xun heard steady, even breathing.

On her first day of work, Zhao Zhiyun flawlessly chose a slightly loose white blouse. The fit and fabric looked perfect on her, and she even rolled up the sleeves with practiced ease, revealing slender, porcelain wrists.

Then, right in front of Gan Xun, she undid two buttons. “Is this right?”

Gan Xun smiled. “You remembered what I taught you.” A hint of pride in her voice.

Gan Xun thought, I taught her wrong!

She paired it with dark trousers she’d complained felt coarser than burlap, cinched at the waist with a black belt that made it seem only a handful wide.

Gan Xun gathered her long hair into a neat updo, making her look even more professional.

She meticulously applied sunscreen and a subtle enhancing makeup—just a layer of foundation to accentuate her glamorous brows and eyes.

Zhao Zhiyun admired herself in the mirror from both sides. Gan Xun supplied the line for her: “Radiant from every angle.”

Zhao Zhiyun smiled in satisfaction. From Gan Xun’s lipsticks, she picked the softest shade, applying it evenly to complement her natural lip color.

“How’s this?” Finally, she slipped on high heels, standing tall like an orchid bamboo, turning back to ask Gan Xun.

Gan Xun said, “Not good.”

Zhao Zhiyun looked herself over. “What’s wrong?”

Gan Xun grumbled, “I don’t want you to go out.”

Zhao Zhiyun still didn’t get it. “I think it looks fine. Does it break some custom here?”

She checked her sleeves and collar, even tucking part of the blouse into her pants, strictly following Gan Xun’s instructions.

Gan Xun shook her head, covering her mouth and forcing out an exaggerated sob. “You’re just too beautiful. Selfishly, I don’t want anyone else to see you.”

Zhao Zhiyun smiled faintly. “Really? Putting on such a show—you’ve got the makings of a sycophantic minister.”

Gan Xun didn’t quite catch it all.

Maybe Zhao Zhiyun had seen through how much she wanted her. Well, she had no grounds to argue.

All she knew was her mood was perpetually sunny now. Before, even brushing past Gan Hua would trigger her, but now she felt calm.

Someone must have said it: gazing at beautiful sights heals a fragile heart.

When they arrived at Cui Lan Book Garden, plenty of summer class students were already trickling in—elementary kids, middle schoolers, even adults squeezing in calligraphy practice.

In the office, Cui Can hadn’t arrived yet, so the two started gossiping.

Gan Xun said she must be tangled up with that woman.

Zhao Zhiyun said that’s how emperors skip morning court—who can escape the gentle village?

Gan Xun thought, Me, me—we’ve never overslept.

Zhao Zhiyun leaned in, whispering, “Are all the girls she likes like that, with super short hair?”

“Not really.”

Gan Xun defended her friend. “She likes long or short hair, no fixed type. Xu Yanyan didn’t have hair that short before—who knows why she chopped it all off this year.”

Soon, Cui Can burst in with coffee. “Don’t even ask—there was a car crash on the road, total gridlock. And the guy in front was an idiot, chain-smoking with his window down.”

The two whispering behind her switched to sympathetic faces in unison.

“Whoa.” Cui Can gawked at Zhao Zhiyun. “You learned makeup? You’re gorgeous—against the rules. If I’d had a teacher this pretty in class, I never would’ve focused.”

“It was Gan Xun who did it.”

“And your junior high English was pretty good too.”

Gan Xun tore her down then explained to Zhao Zhiyun, “In ninth grade, their class got a new female English teacher. She fell hard—studied English like crazy every day and scored over 140 on the high school entrance exam.”

Cui Can corrected, “Full score’s 150.”

Zhao Zhiyun was surprised. “So you’ve been hiding your talent. I can consult you on English then.”

Cui Can waved it off. “Ask her instead. Mine tanked in high school.”

Zhao Zhiyun chuckled. “So you only studied for the teacher.”

“Why not? A good teacher shapes a kid for life.”

During Cui Can’s pre-job training, Gan Xun tactfully left so she wouldn’t be in the way.

She no longer worried Zhao Zhiyun would stick out. Who could tell she was from ancient times?

Peeking through the glass door, Gan Xun noted only her posture and demeanor carried a classical air.

Which was perfect for a calligraphy class—traditional culture vibes. Parents would love it.

The calligraphy teacher in the classroom was a balding guy in his forties or fifties. Gan Xun saw he spoke in flowery language too, with somewhat effeminate gestures—no offense intended.

Gan Xun wandered around, then went downstairs and ran into Lan Xiaoxi just starting her shift. She greeted her warmly. “Here to keep Zhao Teacher company on her first day?”

“Yeah, didn’t want her coming alone and feeling out of place.”

With no one else around, Lan Xiaoxi went straight for it. “Can I ask one more thing? Is she your girlfriend?”

“No,” Gan Xun said.

“So just friends, right?”

Gan Xun knew where this was going and dashed her hopes. “More than ordinary friends.”

She gave Lan Xiaoxi a look that said she couldn’t elaborate. Lan Xiaoxi got the hint and dropped it.

Lan Xiaoxi pivoted to Gan Xun’s job hunt. She said she’d interview in a couple days. At the end, Lan Xiaoxi asked, “Can you unblock me?”

Gan Xun gave an awkward laugh.

Lan Xiaoxi laughed too. “I swear, no more weird messages. I bombarded you before—that was annoying, so you blocked me. Cui Can called me an idiot, and I own it.”

“Now that Zhao Teacher’s working here, we’ll see each other often. No point keeping the block. If something comes up with Zhao Teacher and Cui Can’s not around, I can reach you directly.”

It made sense, so Gan Xun unblocked her on the spot.

Upstairs during break, Cui Can handed Zhao Zhiyun a bottle of water, summing up. “Just follow the template for the lesson plan. Uniformity saves hassle.”

“Of course. County Princess, you know plenty—you can expand as needed, tons of insights. Outside the core, improvise freely. Our motto: student-centered, help them fall in love with calligraphy and feel art’s charm.”

Zhao Zhiyun listened to her expound, nodding and sipping water.

Cui Can at work was different from her usual laid-back self, but Zhao Zhiyun zoned out, thinking about those two pairs of slippers.

Cui Can saw her glance outside. “Missing Gan Xun? Want me to call her in?”

Zhao Zhiyun said, “I have something to ask.”

“Oh, just spit it out. What are we, strangers? I’ll tell you anything.”

“Gan Xun told me yesterday she likes women—is that true?”