They only kissed and did not go beyond that.
Aside from the narrow, pale moonlight, there were no eavesdroppers at the door or window, but a sense of propriety and the environment still carried out their constraining duties.
Zhao Chiyun lay on a pillow that felt slightly unfamiliar. Memories extended out like a net. While enduring Gan Xun’s thick, viscous passion, she felt ashamed of the restless, absurd, frivolous thoughts stirring in her mind.
Fortunately, these thoughts shone only on her alone; she did not need to explain or apologize to anyone.
But as Gan Xun’s panting breaths during the kiss melted into the hot night air, like a parched person desperately seeking water,
she realized that the dark side Gan Xun hid in her heart was even more vast and shadowy than her own.
In her speculations and imaginings about Gan Xun, she completed the cloyingly sweet interaction.
Gan Xun’s hands never strayed improperly over her body from start to finish.
She could not tell if it was relief or disappointment.
Whether in the inner residence of Prince Qi’s Mansion or at Gan Xun’s home, the bed always had one side against the wall.
But the bed in this guest room was centered, with nightstands on both sides—more convenient, yet Zhao Chiyun found it unaccustomed.
At night, she snuggled very close to Gan Xun’s side.
Afraid of falling off.
It was as if the floor beneath the bed was the lake that had brought her away from Mirror Country, harboring endless dangers.
As if another nightmare would, like in a disaster film, swallow her whole again while she slept.
She did not voice it, but Gan Xun tacitly understood and held her very tightly, like a safe harbor for her to rest against.
Thus, she felt no unease of rootlessness and slept quite well that night.
But Gan Xun had not held her phone securely. In the morning, when she turned off the alarm, she dropped it on the floor.
They both woke up completely.
Gan Xun picked it up and checked. The screen had two fine cracks, but it still worked normally.
She let out a light breath of relief. “Good thing. No need to shell out more money.”
Zhao Chiyun leaned against the headboard, her sleepy eyes surveying the unfamiliar bedroom in the morning light. The curtains were not fully drawn.
Sunlight slanted into the room by an inch or so, clear and bright.
Gan Xun revealed a smile of survivor’s relief in that sliver of sunlight.
Her profile had the quality of the rarely used blue tones in traditional paintings—sometimes clean like a sunny sky, sometimes harboring an indescribable melancholy.
She wore a faded, loose plain T-shirt, simple in style, slender and refreshing.
Sitting cross-legged, leaning to one side, elbow propped on her knee, she held the cracked-screen phone in one hand and browsed content Zhao Chiyun could not see.
She was smiling.
Footsteps passed lightly outside the room, and she set the phone down.
She said to Zhao Chiyun, “I’m heading out. What do you want for breakfast?”
“Kong’s Steamed Buns.”
Gan Xun gave her a smile that said, “Then you’ll just have to keep dreaming,” before leaving.
She had no intention of going back to Garden Neighborhood to buy them for her.
In the days that followed, they carried on with their lives methodically, only dining together in the evenings.
Gan Xun signed the rental contract, transferred the payment to the landlord, made a moving plan, purchased packing supplies as needed, and cleaned the new place together with the scheduled cleaning auntie.
She also handled onboarding matters for her new job.
She was as busy as a spinning top.
Fortunately, since it was all things she truly wanted to do, she did not feel tired. Everything went smoothly, and she reported to Zhao Chiyun each evening with great enthusiasm.
Zhao Chiyun, able to carpool with Cui Can, went to Book Garden every day, whether she had classes or not.
There, books, ink, and paints were readily available. She practiced calligraphy daily, prepared lessons, and studied.
Twice, when Gan Xun came to pick her up, she saw Zhao Chiyun painting in a small classroom.
Wearing a fitted high-neck short-sleeved top, her hair pinned up behind her head, her expression focused and still, like one of the long, lingering qin melodies she loved.
Cui Can was busy as usual with managing and operating Book Garden, immersed in various social activities.
Tang Sifeng took on a case. A business titan in the city had recently been diagnosed with cancer and was now revising his will to transfer part of his family assets and shares to his adopted daughter.
Such matters had nothing to do with ordinary folk, but Gan Xun often heard his name and sighed for a moment.
A man of boundless glory targeted by the Grim Reaper—donating ever so much charity could not buy him more lifespan.
On the eve of the move, Zhao Chiyun returned home from work with Cui Can and found that Gan Xun was the one cooking today.
The kitchen no longer reeked of spicy pungency; instead, a gentle, enticing savoriness filled the air.
As the saying goes, one’s calligraphy reflects their character—little did they know cooking techniques might reflect the person too.
After returning to her room and towel-drying her wet hair, Gan Xun told her that they had tidied part of the house and would finish up together tomorrow.
She had also booked movers, so they could move in tomorrow evening.
Zhao Chiyun nodded without speaking.
Gan Xun saw her mind wandering. “After living here a few days, are you reluctant to leave?”
Zhao Chiyun nodded, then shook her head. “I like this peaceful, free life.”
“No rules, no stares or upheavals. Every day with you, Cui Can driving me to and from work, eating meals made by Lawyer Tang, playing with Zixuan and Zihan.”
“These past few days, I’ve deeply felt the happiness of ordinary life.”
Gan Xun tossed the damp towel aside and touched her head with fingers still wet. “As long as you’re happy, we’ll always be happy.”
Zhao Chiyun looked up at her.
She suddenly realized she shouldn’t have brought it up and tried to change the subject. Inspiration struck. “So, a complete family should involve more people.”
Zhao Chiyun did not quite understand but sensed it was not good, because Gan Xun laughed after saying it, a bit guiltily.
Gan Xun then nitpicked. “Feels like the main thing is playing with Zixuan and Zihan.”
The night before, Zhao Chiyun had insisted on letting the cats into the room before bed. Gan Xun fumed silently but said nothing. Halfway through the night, she felt a heavy weight numbing her leg.
At first, she did not remember it was the cats and got a fright. In the dark, she did not dare move.
In the morning, the little cats bounced lively onto her pillow and woke her up.
Finally at her limit, she picked up Cui Zixuan and put it out of the room. Zhao Chiyun accused her of lacking tolerance.
Gan Xun declared forthrightly, “I have tolerance for people, but not for cats.”
Zhao Chiyun smartly did not reply and smiled with pursed lips. “Isn’t it mainly because I have you by my side?”
Gan Xun froze.
Zhao Chiyun added softly, “You hold my heart more than these cats do.”
Flustered and delighted, Gan Xun grinned foolishly on the spot and promised, “Once I save up, I’ll buy a place here too. We can come play often.”
At that, Zhao Chiyun smiled faintly and said, “Oh, right.”
“Wait a moment.”
She operated her phone with movements not yet proficient but an expression of strict focus.
Gan Xun waited patiently and soon received a notification. She saw that Zhao Chiyun had transferred her some money.
She was surprised at first, then remembered. “You got paid.”
“Yes.”
“So much for two weeks?”
Gan Xun mentally calculated the lesson fees and found it off.
“I think Cui Can gave me a bit extra, rounded it up. I’m giving it all to you. Consider it rent I’m paying you. The new place was decided together, and since you’re strapped for cash now, how could this County Princess stand idly by?”
Gan Xun stood up. Seeing Zhao Chiyun’s gaze did not follow, she squatted back down and explained anxiously.
“I’ve already said I don’t want your rent or living expenses. I support you working, but not to share my burdens. I’d rather you save your salary for yourself, buy things you like.”
As Gan Xun said this, she saw Zhao Chiyun’s smiling, lowered gaze and realized her words had turned too affectionate.
She lightened her tone. “Who asked you to be a County Princess? I’m just a lowly commoner. It’s my honor to provide for you—how could I take your money?”
Zhao Chiyun laughed and patted her shoulder in praise. “Good. You’ve finally remembered ‘proper hierarchy of status.'”
Gan Xun chuckled inwardly—firmer than someone’s “everyone is equal” anyway.
Zhao Chiyun said, “If you won’t take rent, consider it my tuition. I’m living here thanks to your guidance. Prince Qi’s Mansion has always respected teachers.”
Seeing Gan Xun about to refuse again, she furrowed her brows, as if unwilling to repeat herself.
Before she could express displeasure, Gan Xun yielded. “Then I’ll take half. Keep some on you.”
Zhao Chiyun still shook her head, thinking she did not get it, and laughed. “I’ve already linked your card. I’ll spend your money—no need to keep any for now.”
Gan Xun laughed too. “My card doesn’t have much in it anymore.”
Zhao Chiyun tapped the phone screen. “Now it does.”
The screen made a crisp little sound as her nail tapped the electronic display.
This reminded Zhao Chiyun of something. She took the canvas bag hanging nearby, pulled out a box from inside, and handed it lightly to Gan Xun.
“You always give me gifts. Now it’s my turn to give you one.”
“What’s this?”
“A phone?!”
Zhao Chiyun handed it over calmly, so Gan Xun did not think much of it at first. Only after taking it and seeing the label did she exclaim.
Zhao Chiyun told her, “Your screen cracked. You said you’ve used it for years; I wanted to get you a better one. Cui Can said you use this brand. See, did I pick a good one?”
Gan Xun did not nod or look at the phone. She just kept looking at her—at the way she smiled without making a big deal of it.
No expectation of “Aren’t you touched by my gift?”
Just pure “I hope you’re happy.”
She had received more expensive things before, accepted some, politely declined or disposed of many gifts.
But this was different. It was from Zhao Chiyun.
Like nurturing a plant just to see its green leaves, and one day it suddenly blooms a vibrant flower for you.
Gan Xun grew tongue-tied and said softly, “Thank you.”
Amid the emotion, she also grew worried.
“Where did you get the money for the phone?”
She asked cautiously, afraid of upsetting Zhao Chiyun or hearing an answer she needed to process.
Did she borrow from someone? Or did someone give it to her?
Zhao Chiyun, oblivious to her mood, lowered her head and carefully helped unpack it. “Today at Book Garden, I sold a painting. A student’s mother bought it, along with a few of my ink treasures. She said she really liked them and asked me to name a price.”
“I said I wasn’t good at pricing and, seeing her sincerity and kind face, told her it was a gift. But she still paid me through Cui Can.”
“Cui Can said this parent is generous, often buying works from Book Garden to support us. She wanted to transfer the money to me. I asked if it could buy a phone, and Cui Can took me to get it.”
So that was it. No wonder Cui Can had looked at her strangely when she got back today and said some odd things.
Cui Can often rambled mysteriously, so Gan Xun was used to it.
She thought it was just teasing about her daily life with Zhao Chiyun.
She did not know Cui Can had been holding back with effort until Gan Xun saw the gift herself.
It was the latest model. It had been out for a while, so the price had dropped some, but it was still not cheap.
The new phone gleamed with a special shine.
Gan Xun turned it on but did not set it up. Instead, she looked at Zhao Chiyun.
Her gaze grew heavier, the damp strands of hair emitting the sweet scent of Cui Can’s shampoo.
Zhao Chiyun explained, “I had the money first, which gave me the idea to get it for you. It wasn’t like I painted specifically to sell, so no need to be overly grateful.”
In her Mirror Country, she could casually bestow fields of gold and silver on Gan Xun.
Gan Xun leaned in and negotiated, “How can I not be grateful? Let me offer myself to you.”
