Chapter 65: Better to Stay Together Early

Gan Xun was slender and tall. Due to her mixed heritage, the edges of her features carried a touch of sharpness, making her far more captivating than the soft beauty that had once stirred Zhao Chiyun’s heart.

It was only after starting work that Zhao Chiyun gradually realized how differently this place treated mixed-race people compared to the Great Mirror.

As long as someone was good-looking, it didn’t matter how mixed they were—there was no such thing as pure or superior bloodlines.

Everyone was equal.

But Gan Xun’s face was top-tier.

Zhao Chiyun had grown accustomed to Gan Xun standing by her side with a smile, used to the calm and gentleness in those cool gray eyes. To others, that must have seemed like Gan Xun’s entire demeanor. She was pleased that no one else knew how endearing Gan Xun could be when she coquettishly whined in earnest.

The way Gan Xun coaxed her to sleep together softened Zhao Chiyun’s heart a little.

She bustled about, cooked and washed dishes, then volunteered to blow-dry and style her hair.

In the end, she made just that one request—who could bear to refuse?

But Zhao Chiyun had other ideas, so she steeled herself and said flatly, “No.”

Gan Xun hugged her even tighter, rubbing her face against Zhao Chiyun’s as she whined, “Why!”

Zhao Chiyun had never been restrained like this before, whether by ropes or a summer embrace. Even her breathing was compressed to the minimum, leaving no room for struggle.

Perhaps Gan Xun just smelled so good, and though her actions were forceful, they weren’t rough. She didn’t feel uncomfortable or disheveled—like finding a dry shelter on a rainy day. It turned out that being bound could sometimes bring peace of mind.

Once she adjusted, she found a tone suitable for speaking and pinned a fairly justified charge on her. “I’m afraid you won’t behave.”

“I was very well-behaved the night before last.”

Gan Xun loosened her hold a bit and looked at her innocently. “I didn’t even mention it last night, right? See, I’m a good person.”

Gan Xun hugged her while making this self-assessment.

Zhao Chiyun slowly lifted her gaze. Her earlobes, toyed with earlier, still radiated heat, and her body, held so tightly, tingled faintly from the lack of freedom.

The skepticism on her face was too obvious. Gan Xun grew embarrassed and started making excuses while turning the attack on her.

“I wasn’t even worried about you not behaving.”

Zhao Chiyun laughed in exasperation. “How was I supposed to know I wouldn’t behave?”

“Over these two days, we watched two movies, and every time you ate fries, you bit my fingers.” It ruined her immersion in the film.

Zhao Chiyun wore a look of “So what?”

She criticized her discontentedly. “If you hadn’t shoved them so deep into my mouth, how could I have accidentally bitten your fingers? Who knows if your hands were clean? I haven’t even blamed you for doing a poor job.”

Zhao Chiyun never second-guessed herself.

Gan Xun had no choice but to concede and held back the wandering thoughts sparked by certain words.

“Okay?”

Gan Xun softened her voice and asked again.

“No.”

Zhao Chiyun refused once more.

“Fine, if no means no.”

Gan Xun let go. She could tell County Princess Zhao’s standards were high today—bargaining wouldn’t work.

Zhao Chiyun changed her tune. “Unless you beg me.”

Gan Xun straightened up, feeling the sweat from her exertions so far. Luckily, Zhao Chiyun hadn’t scolded her.

“How should I beg? On my knees?”

“That would be plenty sincere.”

Zhao Chiyun smiled.

Gan Xun glanced at their reflections in the bathroom mirror—one with her hair tied up high, the other with long hair cascading over her shoulders; one pouting, the other smiling. She circled around to face Zhao Chiyun, half-squatted down, and looked up at the poised woman.

She saw the mischief hidden behind that air of superiority. After a moment’s thought, she reached out and pushed Zhao Chiyun’s nightgown up from below her knees.

Her pristine white knees were exposed before her eyes.

Because she’d never experienced anything so strange—and trusted Gan Xun too much—Zhao Chiyun only bashfully tried to cover them after watching the whole thing unfold.

“What are you doing?”

Gan Xun had just wanted to tease her a little. When asked, she looked at that noble face and said clearly, word for word, “The difficulty of making me kneel for you is the same as you spreading your legs right now.”

Zhao Chiyun froze for a moment, as if calculating the difficulty across two timelines, then quickly realized Gan Xun was toying with her.

Just as she was about to get angry, Gan Xun stood up with a smile and fled the scene.

Holding her clothes, Gan Xun asked again before closing the bathroom door. “Can we shower together? If yes, I’ll wash extra clean.”

Zhao Chiyun, offended by such outrageous words she’d never heard before, glared at her. “I’ll think about it.”

While showering, Gan Xun reflected that Zhao Chiyun was pretty sly.

Back when she desperately wanted to keep her distance and not harbor any improper thoughts toward Zhao Chiyun, Zhao Chiyun loved sticking close to her, often without any sense of boundaries.

She’d say all sorts of intimate things, forcing Gan Xun to expend great effort resisting—only for it to be futile.

Now, when Gan Xun occasionally let herself go and wanted to cling a bit more, Zhao Chiyun wouldn’t easily agree.

But no matter what, she didn’t like those days when they lived separately under the same roof, and she had no intention of avoiding her true feelings anymore.

After her shower and hanging up the laundry, Gan Xun received a message from Zhao Chiyun: [Come.]

Short and to the point.

Gan Xun obediently knocked on her door. After hearing “Come in,” she opened it and immediately saw that Zhao Chiyun had changed the bedding—it looked incredibly inviting for sleep.

Zhao Chiyun herself sat at the desk. “Come here.”

Gan Xun leaned in and asked, “What are you writing?”

Zhao Chiyun placed a plain letter under a paperweight. “Something for you. Collect it in the morning.”

“Why write me a letter?”

Gan Xun smiled.

Zhao Chiyun’s tone was indifferent. “You always have so many questions.”

“Fine, fine, no more questions.”

After getting into bed, Gan Xun watched a twenty-minute video with her about modern consumerism.

Zhao Chiyun was very interested in such videos and had watched plenty of documentaries, learning about this society from every angle.

She might even understand the modern world better than locals soon.

Though she kept insisting she wouldn’t stay long, she was making preparations that suggested otherwise in the short term.

She’d started working, learning English, and even mentioned wanting a perm.

She just never said it outright, as if afraid that voicing it would make it a prophecy—dooming her to stay if she couldn’t leave after all.

She still wanted to go home—Gan Xun understood that. But since she was preparing for both possibilities in life, was Zhao Chiyun doing the same in their relationship?

Hence the hot-and-cold behavior.

Generous one moment, conservative the next.

This guess wasn’t nitpicking—it was about figuring out how to make Zhao Chiyun feel secure enough to choose her here.

As a girlfriend, to try dating—even if just for days, a quarter, or until one day she had to accept loss. It would still be a beautiful memory.

She glanced at the letter on the desk, wondering at its contents.

“Gan Xun?”

Hearing the voice by her ear, Gan Xun snapped out of her daze.

To Zhao Chiyun, who was now inches away trying to read her mind, she said, “How are you so beautiful?”

She wasn’t just changing the subject—she’d been thinking about it while blow-drying her hair.

Zhao Chiyun laughed speechlessly, then added primly, “You should ask my mother and Father King why they raised me to be so radiant.”

Gan Xun immediately replied, “That’s why so many people like you at work.”

Zhao Chiyun nodded. “You seem hung up on it.”

“Not at all. I’m afraid they’ll be disrespectful, buzzing around you like flies.”

Zhao Chiyun met her gaze for a few seconds, then laughed. “I thought you were jealous.”

Gan Xun gripped the bedsheet, making a little rustling sound before saying, “I won’t get jealous.”

Zhao Chiyun looked at her calmly, quite serene.

She confessed, “As long as those people aren’t in your eyes, I won’t get jealous. But I do get nervous, afraid you’ll meet someone better, more interesting.”

Zhao Chiyun finally smiled. “Why fear that?”

The question was too simple to answer easily.

Gan Xun said, “Because you’re too perfect, and I’m too precious. So I resent all your admirers—afraid they’ll disturb you, and afraid you won’t mind the disturbance.”

Gan Xun had never said so many sappy words before meeting Zhao Chiyun.

But she tried her best to express them.

Even if saying “I want” or “I don’t want” still made her flustered.

Zhao Chiyun, with her dominant mindset, was pleased by flattery, true or not. She cupped her face. “Rest assured—I haven’t met anyone better or more interesting than you.”

“Then I can only be temporarily reassured.”

Gan Xun joked.

Zhao Chiyun rejected it. “No, forever. If I were fickle, I wouldn’t have only ever liked two people in my life.”

Heh heh—the second one! Gan Xun was thrilled.

“You never liked those singing girls or dancers?”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

After lying down, Gan Xun grew restless and mentioned she’d washed thoroughly. Zhao Chiyun said the new body wash was great, then recapped the video they’d watched, pointing out how Gan Xun, in her penniless state, had bought thousand-yuan shoes and a nearly ten-thousand-yuan phone—calling them consumer traps.

Like a reporter, she asked, “What’s the expenditure you regret most recently?”

“The apartment,” Gan Xun said.

“Why?”

Gan Xun grumbled, “Having separate rooms sucks. I have to apply just to sleep with you.”

Zhao Chiyun laughed lightly in the darkness. “Why do you want to sleep with me?”

“Because it’s fun sleeping together.”

“Because I like you.”

“But a few days ago…”

Gan Xun kissed her lips. “Who keeps dredging up the past like that? Zhao Chiyun, except for those few days, I’ve always wanted to be close to you.”

“Why not those few days?”

Zhao Chiyun asked the most questions herself. Gan Xun didn’t want to brush her off. “We can talk about it another time. I’ll tell you.”

“Right now, I want to say—with so many people liking you, I’m worried. Selfishly, I hope you’ll only see me, and not leave me.”

“I can’t control the past or future. But at least in this time and place, don’t leave me, okay?”

Gan Xun had anticipated Zhao Chiyun giving some evasive response to punish her past aloofness and avoidance—promises weren’t her style. She’d prepared more persuasion.

“Okay.”

She hadn’t expected Zhao Chiyun to agree outright.

Now Gan Xun was speechless.

Zhao Chiyun leaned toward her pillow. “I promise you, Gan Xun.”

“Thanks.” Gan Xun, at a loss for words, said.

“Do you have to have me, or is it just that since we’re under the same roof, it’s fine either way?”

“Of course I have to have you.”

Gan Xun answered hurriedly, then added, “While you’re here.”

“If I didn’t like you, we wouldn’t even be under the same roof. You know I struggled with it for a long time.” She wouldn’t just casually date because a beauty was around—she didn’t have the means for that. These two months had left her dead broke.

Zhao Chiyun kissed her lips.

Gan Xun took control after being passive. Much later, she paused, barely holding back as she asked, “Can I… touch you?”

Zhao Chiyun fell silent.

Gan Xun whispered, “Like last time, but gentler.”

Zhao Chiyun considered it, then kissed her again to signal yes.

But Gan Xun broke her word—it wasn’t like last time.

After caressing the fullness for a moment, as Zhao Chiyun softened like cotton candy and clung to her, Gan Xun slipped her hand under the gown.

The direct touch had a drug-like aftereffect, nearly stripping the noblewoman of her pride—as if it were her heart in the other’s grasp.

Her gown disheveled, she was almost bare to the night. Cool air crept from the corner of the room; only Gan Xun’s embrace provided warmth.

Her voice and posture gave Gan Xun a massive illusion of encouragement. Reason shattered into fragments, no more lengthy arguments. Primal desire took over, guiding her to lower her head and kiss that soft expanse without waiting for permission. Zhao Chiyun hugged the head at her chest, torn between pushing it away or holding it closer.

She called Gan Xun’s name in a tone and pitch she’d never heard from herself—like honey swallowed undiluted by her throat: sticky, sweet, overwhelming.

Finally, when Gan Xun withdrew her hand, she brushed the edge of Zhao Chiyun’s underwear at her waist, nearly losing control.

She wanted to reach more private places but feared truly frightening her.

That night, they both changed their underwear—no one said a word about it.

The next morning, Gan Xun got up quietly and took the letter from the desk.

Zhao Chiyun lay flat in sleep, her head slightly turned toward Gan Xun’s pillow, her sleeping face weary—likely from the energy drained the night before.

While waiting for breakfast to finish, Gan Xun opened the envelope.

Inside was a single sheet of paper.

After “To Gan Xun” on the envelope was a heart drawn in red ink. Gan Xun understood the inspiration’s source in an instant.

[Read at leisure. By the time you see this letter, you had already entered this County Princess’s tent twice. Our mutual feelings were already clear before then, so no need to dwell on the reason for those two nights sharing a bed.

The master you found said to make yourself at home once you arrive. I think, since we haven’t parted yet, why not stay together early and avoid regrets in the days to come? What do you say? If you don’t agree, so be it—no forcing the issue. Just don’t bring up sharing a bed again.

P.S., This County Princess’s handwriting isn’t for others to receive. You must keep it safe and not neglect it.]

Gan Xun finished making breakfast. Zhao Chiyun opened the room door and stepped out, catching each other’s gaze from afar.

Gan Xun raised her hand. “Approved.”