Chapter 6: Isolated Island

The wrung-out clothes hung drying on the balcony. After closing the sliding door, the lingering fragrance still diluted the night, peering in.

Only a single floor lamp remained lit in the living room. Gan Xun lay down on the sofa, the irregular orange light shining quietly on her body.

Across a stretch of darkness, light leaked from under the bedroom door like a feathered butterfly taking flight, proving that someone hadn’t gone to sleep yet.

Only then did she feel the unreality of it all.

A county princess lived in her home. Though it couldn’t be called lighting up the humble abode, it was still a miracle.

Her thoughts scattered like an overturned fruit stall, all over the floor. She kept picking them up one by one.

The alarm clock had failed that morning. She’d rushed out in the rain and, unsurprisingly, arrived late.

The takeout she’d specially ordered early for lunch arrived late and got spilled, so she hadn’t eaten.

In the afternoon, her boss notified her that she could leave the company.

At dusk, she’d fallen and gotten scolded.

The wound still hurt.

Finally, the entire world sank into the sea, bubbling away into silence, with the anchor chain tied to Zhao Chiyun.

She recalled that first glance upon meeting—terror followed by amazement, falling and then rising.

She thought of the moment Zhao Chiyun had held her, the details blurred, even forgetting what she’d been thinking then.

It had simply been a long time since she’d tried hugging someone.

It turned out that feeling another person’s body heat and emotions was like being rescued from an isolated island onto solid ground.

This person didn’t even need to be of one mind with her, no oaths of mountains and seas—even a mysterious stranger would do.

As long as it was kind and pure, that was enough.

What she wouldn’t say aloud was her heartfelt gratitude for this night, for Zhao Chiyun.

Without Zhao Chiyun, on the day she’d lost her job, negativity and anxiety would have crushed her, leaving her to fret over the trivial yet essential matters of daily rice and salt.

But now, she felt it didn’t matter.

She had been pulled from the mundane and trivial, swept into a bizarre and dazzling feast—unrelated to her, yet intimately connected.

One had lost a crappy job for putting food on the table; the other had lost her original noble life.

After the rain, the night and moonlight fell equally into their eyes.

That night, Zhao Chiyun had a dream. She saw flashing blades and blood. She ran for her life, then everything went black.

In the next scene, her clothes floated on Mirror Bright Lake’s surface, fished up one by one by the mansion guards.

She saw no more scenes, heard no sounds. She kept shouting, “I’m here,” but no one responded.

As dawn broke, she jolted awake. The room was so dark it felt like the night had continued inside. It took her a good while to adjust.

She glanced at the bedside and realized this wasn’t Prince Qi’s Mansion, not even Mirror Country.

Kneeling on the bed, she pulled back the curtains and clearly surveyed the new century in daylight. She looked at the morning sun hidden among the buildings in the distance, then at the pedestrians on the streets.

The sky had cleared, roads bustled with traffic, vehicles streaming endlessly.

This was true peaceful seas and clear rivers, a prosperous era.

Perhaps it was a test from the Bodhisattva, or perhaps the dream had been too deep.

She hadn’t slept and returned home. She was still in Gan Xun’s room.

She pinched herself hard—it hurt. Tears welled in her eyes, finally dripping onto the back of her hand.

The tears were still warm.

Dazed, she wiped away the tears. Once her emotions settled, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

The air conditioner in the living room was set to a temperature that made Zhao Chiyun shiver. Gan Xun lay covered by only a thin blanket, her arm over her face, breathing evenly.

The night before, with thoughts swirling before sleep, Zhao Chiyun had figured she wouldn’t rest easy.

Yet she’d fallen asleep as soon as she hit the bed. Aside from the dream, she hadn’t woken once. It seemed Gan Xun guarding the door had put her greatly at ease.

Gan Xun was patted awake from deep sleep. Bleary-eyed with fatigue, she opened her eyes to see a face right in front of her, looking down from above.

Even the most beautiful face startled her badly.

It took a moment for her mind to reboot before she remembered who it was. “What!”

“Why sleep until the sun is high in the sky? Don’t you need to work?”

Listen to that—a feudal landlord reborn.

“It’s the weekend.”

“What does that mean?”

“Seven days make a week. Weekends are two days off from work.”

Gan Xun didn’t want to mention getting laid off yet.

She checked the time on her phone. “Are you crazy? It’s not even seven. Why wake me up?”

“What is seven o’clock? I only see the sun out, and people below the building.”

“Those are all old folks who don’t work and didn’t sleep. Why compare yourself to them? Go back and lie down a bit more.”

“First rule of my house: early to bed is fine, but no early rising.”

With that, Gan Xun put her hand back under the blanket, rolled over, and fell asleep again.

Zhao Chiyun poked her back, but she ignored it completely, utterly undisciplined.

Zhao Chiyun gave up and went to the bathroom by herself. She used the toothbrush Gan Xun had prepared for her the night before.

Mirror Dynasty had toothbrushes too, but none this exquisite and soft.

She spritzed on the skincare water Gan Xun had taught her to use—cool and refreshing.

The face in the vanity mirror had regained its color.

The collar of the cotton sleep dress was a bit loose; she adjusted it to be proper.

Back in the room, she flipped through the fashion magazine she’d borrowed from Gan Xun the night before.

She read until Gan Xun got up. Hearing the noise, she opened the door and asked, “When will breakfast arrive?”

Gan Xun then remembered there was someone else at home. Yawning on the sofa, she said, “I’ll make it.”

Gan Xun cooked two bowls of instant noodles, adding poached eggs, ham sausages, and a few slices of baby bok choy.

Zhao Chiyun was already starving and stood at the kitchen door waiting. “Prince Qi’s Mansion has the most chefs in the capital, but none as neatly featured as this.”

Gan Xun teased, “The smell of food’s already sweetening your mouth.”

Zhao Chiyun said seriously, “I’m telling the truth.”

“Thanks for the great kindness, my lord.”

Gan Xun took a bite first to demonstrate it wasn’t poisoned, then served two bowls. “Same pot. Pick whichever bowl you want.”

Zhao Chiyun examined them. They smelled good, but the noodles looked average—she’d never eaten anything like it.

With no right to be picky, she took a reluctant bite.

To her surprise again, it was utterly delicious, a taste of heaven.

“Gan girl, your culinary skills are superb.”

Too easily pleased. Gan Xun felt a bit embarrassed.

“This is our local specialty. Not expensive. If only you could take some back—carry a couple crates.”

Zhao Chiyun analyzed calmly, “I came without clothes or jewelry, so I probably can’t take anything back either.”

“True, what a shame. If you’d brought even one thing, I’d be rich. If you like it, I’ll make more for you these next couple days.”

Gan Xun finished cleaning the kitchen and got a message from Cui Can reminding her to head out.

She told Zhao Chiyun, “Stay home and read or watch shows. I need to go out for a bit.”

Zhao Chiyun grew wary. “Where to?”

“My friend Cui Can—something happened at her place. I need to help.”

Zhao Chiyun pressed, “What happened?”

Gan Xun saw her unease about her going out and patiently explained, “You might know the term ‘catching an affair.'”

She nodded. Zhao Chiyun asked, “Her husband cheated with someone?”

“Something like that.”

“Can I come along?”

Gan Xun laughed. “What for? That scene’s ugly. Don’t want to scare you.”

Zhao Chiyun looked utterly serious. “One more person means more presence. I know some fists and kicks—give the cheating pair a show of strength.”

“You?” Gan Xun didn’t believe it. She looked like a breeze would scatter her petals.

“I feel like you’re just going for the spectacle.”

Zhao Chiyun smiled with pursed lips. She didn’t want to admit Mirror People loved a good show, so she said tactfully, “I’ve been wanting to go out for a walk.”

Gan Xun thought about it—yeah, she needed some sun, to feel this era’s peace.

Otherwise, if she didn’t trust the place and refused to leave in a few days, it’d be trouble.

“Then together.”

“Gan Xun girl, you’re such a good person.”

“Thanks. I know.”

Zhao Chiyun asked ahead, “Your friend’s surnamed Cui? The Cui clan is a renowned family.”

Gan Xun corrected her, “We don’t have noble surnames or clans anymore. Even a Kong could sell buns downstairs.”

“What about Zhao?”

This question seemed important to her.

Gan Xun answered, “Just Zhao.”

Zhao Chiyun changed back into last night’s clothes and had Gan Xun help with her hair. Gan Xun said she didn’t know how and suggested a hair tie instead.

Zhao Chiyun refused. “Disheveled hair? What kind of propriety is that? Go find someone who knows.”

Gan Xun stared silently for five seconds, then pulled her to the window and made her observe for three minutes.

“See? Five adults and a little girl just passed—hair down or tied up. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Don’t stand out, or I can’t take you.”

To go out, Zhao Chiyun reluctantly agreed.

Gan Xun pulled a black Chinese-style high-neck vest from the closet—slanted placket with frog buttons—paired with retro black flared pants.

Tall with great proportions, she rarely worked out but had a naturally good figure. Her arms had such nice lines she could net-date without showing her face.

Annoyingly, someone was blind to it. “Why dress like an assassin?”

Gan Xun put on sunglasses, hair loose.

“Black gives presence.”

Zhao Chiyun vaguely got it—like “gold and jade on the outside.”

When changing shoes, Gan Xun said, “You can wear my slippers. Our feet are about the same size.”

She had Zhao Chiyun take off her shoe.

They compared feet side by side. Gan Xun said, “Your feet are so cold. Wear socks at home from now on.”

“Good that they’re smaller than mine. As long as they fit, tie the laces tight.”

She gave her brand-new shoes to Zhao Chiyun. No time to teach, so she knelt, squatting to tie the laces.

Zhao Chiyun looked down, accepting the care as a matter of course.

Gan Xun’s not-quite-black hair draped to her knees, expression focused. That cheap beaded bracelet from last night wound around her wrist; her left hand wore a few rings of unknown material.

Her shoelace-tying was better than hair-styling. Her nimble fingers wove a bow, pulling it tight—as if pressing on Zhao Chiyun’s foot from afar, yet stopping just right.

Then she looked up, smiling at her. “Not uncomfortable, right?”

Her gray-tinted eyes caught the fragmented lights, soft and bright. High brow bones cast shadows around her eyes, like the setup for a story.

Zhao Chiyun thought to herself, “Even if this person hasn’t married, she shouldn’t be all alone.”

“Your shoes and socks here look ugly, but they’re comfortable.”

Gan Xun stood and objected, “Where’s the ugliness? Keep up with aesthetics—these are hot items. Even went up in price. Cost me over two thousand.”

“How much silver is that?”

“Two-fifths of my salary—my monthly pay.”

Gan Xun held up five fingers, folding down ring and pinky.

Her nails were neatly trimmed.

Zhao Chiyun understood. “So these shoes are extremely valuable.”

“Heh heh, actually, I just earn little.”

Gan Xun was honest.

Zhao Chiyun didn’t get it. “Then why buy two-thousand-plus shoes?”

“Birthday gift to myself. Gotta have some hope to keep living.”

Zhao Chiyun pondered, then nodded solemnly. “When I leave, I won’t wear them again. Just give me a pair of slippers then.”

Gan Xun smiled faintly. “County Princess, you’re so considerate.”

“Thanks. I know.”

“Watch the step.”

Zhao Chiyun finally set foot on the new era’s ground.

Everything in sight was unheard of, unseen before.

Even the road underfoot was so flat and wide, free of filth and dust.

The sky looked freshly washed, blue and clear, brimming with vitality.

The air carried gardenia scent.

Drenched by last night’s rain, the fragrance was refreshing.

Gan Xun spread her arms. “Welcome to touring the new century.”