Chapter 66: Ye Gong Loves Dragons

The entire month of August passed like an arrow, speeding through scorching sun and torrential rain, shattering the cicadas’ cries amid the trees.

One event pushed after another, one scene layered upon the next.

Sometimes it flew by in a blur, sometimes it broke time down to its smallest particles, crawling past in slow motion.

Fortunately, all the summer events related to Zhao Chiyun, and all the scenery was shared with Zhao Chiyun.

Gan Xun wore her earphones, standing among the crowd of commuters, and heard the subway announcement that the next stop was her destination.

Amid the clamor, she silently thought of Zhao Chiyun.

On the same day, they had reached a consensus not to betray each other’s affections.

On the night Gan Xun clumsily expressed herself, the letter Zhao Chiyun wrote with an ink-stained brush lay on the desk, its elegant characters flowing freely.

Like a prophetic missive.

As if she had already divined it, foreseeing that Gan Xun would lose control that night, open her heart, and invite her in.

Two weeks had passed, but Gan Xun still felt happy every time she thought about it.

Being chosen without effort was always a rare joy.

After joining the new company, her boss deliberately promoted her own people, so Gan Xun and another colleague received special favor.

With several projects on hand, the time spent on work inevitably increased, but she still made time whenever possible to rush home, cook, and keep Zhao Chiyun company.

Her colleagues soon realized they couldn’t schedule anything with Gan Xun outside work.

She worked hard without slacking off, a true workaholic, but she avoided overtime when possible and hurried home right on time.

Thus, an unrewarded guessing game began: who was at Gan Xun’s home?

Faced with the questions, Gan Xun smiled. “I’ve got a master at home. If I get back late, she’ll tear the place apart.”

Colleagues with pets nodded in understanding—this made sense.

Others who disagreed saw right through her; Gan Xun was clearly in the honeymoon phase of a relationship.

Not only did she keep her distance from all men, barely speaking to them, but every time she checked her phone, she unconsciously pursed her lips in a smile.

Most telling was her boundless energy every day. While others dragged themselves to work, she always arrived beaming.

She reached her desk, clocked in, brewed coffee, reported her work schedule to Zhao Chiyun, and received a message from Zhao Chiyun holding her accountable.

[YUN: Gan Xun, you got me in trouble with the mark on my neck! I have class today!]

The culprit felt guilty yet secretly thrilled, and offered advice: [Cover it with foundation, or wear a turtleneck?]

During this time, aside from a few late nights when she worked in her own room until the early hours without disturbing Zhao Chiyun’s sleep, every other night she slept in Zhao Chiyun’s room.

Sharing the same bed during this stage of their relationship, she naturally couldn’t restrain her instinctive urges to explore.

Zhao Chiyun indulged her. Though she pushed her away each time, even scolding her a bit, she ultimately let her run wild.

Letting Gan Xun touch, kiss, and admire.

But Gan Xun set a bottom line for herself, keeping her greed to the upper body. No matter how out of control, she never fully stripped Zhao Chiyun’s clothes, lest she lose all restraint.

Last night, with the lights on, Zhao Chiyun was especially cooperative. Their kisses grew passionate, and she accidentally left a mark on her neck.

As soon as she finished kissing, Gan Xun saw it and apologized. Zhao Chiyun, drained of strength at the time and not taking it seriously, said it might fade by morning.

It hadn’t.

Zhao Chiyun sent her a voice message. The stern voice in her earphones declared that neck kisses and marks were forbidden from now on.

“Otherwise, I’ll return it tenfold, leaving ten or eight on you. See if you can handle the embarrassment.”

The image was too vivid; Gan Xun didn’t dare imagine it.

She quickly typed: [Yes, my mistake. I guarantee no next time. I know it’s troublesome—try covering it. I’ll make amends tonight.]

[↑I mean, cook a big meal.]

[YUN: No silver here—don’t think I don’t know what you commoners are up to. Begone!]

The commoner grinned to herself all morning. It wasn’t just the surprise hickey—satisfying as leaving marks was, she hadn’t meant to trouble Zhao Chiyun.

What thrilled her were Zhao Chiyun’s words: so many boundaries, yet so much freedom granted.

Default permission to kiss, to look, even to leave marks—as long as they weren’t visible to others.

In other words, as long as it didn’t cause issues, Zhao Chiyun allowed Gan Xun to do as she pleased.

Gan Xun covered her mouth, propping her elbow on the desk. One hand shielded her face, leaving only her eyes and forehead exposed, pretending to focus on work so she wouldn’t burst out laughing.

That evening, she went straight to the kitchen upon arriving home and made three dishes and a soup as an apology.

Zhao Chiyun put on airs. “This counts as a big meal?”

“Eat it first. If you finish, I’ll make eight dishes every meal from now on.”

“Forcing it on me.”

Zhao Chiyun picked up the soup bowl, shot her a glance, and sipped delicately.

After dinner, while Gan Xun cleared the table, Zhao Chiyun prepared to shower.

Gan Xun teased her idly. “Let’s shower together.”

Zhao Chiyun paused, looked at her for a moment, hooked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Fine. Go get the clothes.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

Gan Xun: “…”

She actually wasn’t mentally prepared and probably couldn’t handle such intimacy yet.

Before starting, Zhao Chiyun asked again: “Not coming?”

“Washing dishes!”

Having grasped Gan Xun’s weakness, Zhao Chiyun wouldn’t let it go easily. Lying on the pillow reading, she suddenly said to Gan Xun, who was reviewing work files nearby, “You’re holding back from me.”

Gan Xun’s phone clattered against her collarbone, the pain stripping her composure. After recovering, she asked Zhao Chiyun, “Where am I holding back?”

Zhao Chiyun said solemnly, “You won’t shower with me. Clearly, you don’t want me to see your body. Isn’t that holding back?”

She argued convincingly: “But you’ve already seen all of me.”

Last night, she had said to turn off the lights, but Gan Xun refused. Under the lamp, Gan Xun slipped off her dress and toyed with her chest.

Far more than just the neck—her chest bore several marks like plum blossoms on snow. She hadn’t bothered making a fuss about them.

Gan Xun nodded, agreeing she had a point, but it wasn’t like that—it was just shyness, not holding back.

To prove it, she lowered her head to unbutton her shirt. At the third button, Zhao Chiyun grabbed her hand at the collar, wary. “What are you doing?”

“Letting you see. It’s fine with me.”

“Who wants to see you!”

“You said I’m holding back.”

Zhao Chiyun flushed. “That doesn’t mean I want to see you.”

Gan Xun was used to her fussiness. She gripped Zhao Chiyun’s hand and placed it on her chest. “If you won’t look, you can touch.”

“I don’t want to!” Zhao Chiyun tried to pull away, but Gan Xun held her tighter.

“Everything I do to you, you can do to me—more, even. I’ve never held back from you.”

Gan Xun stated her position.

Zhao Chiyun’s shy reaction once made Gan Xun think she was straight; even touching her chest embarrassed her like that.

Later, she realized County Princess Zhao simply hadn’t seen much of the world.

She had probably only studied women in erotic paintings. Actually touching one felt a bit like Ye Gong loving dragons.

Blushing, she called Gan Xun annoying for forcing her, but she never pulled her hand away.

Until Gan Xun carefully traced the kiss marks on her chest like plum blossoms on snow, reinforcing them. Amid endless distraction, she asked Gan Xun, “Would you let me kiss you?”

Gan Xun paused, then smiled. “Of course.”

“Whenever you want.”

On the last weekend of August, Gan Xun accompanied Zhao Chiyun to Cui Lan Book Garden.

The cab ride took over ten minutes. Along the way, Gan Xun borrowed Zhao Chiyun’s wired earphones, listened to her modern knowledge lesson, and slept soundly.

As soon as they opened the car door and Zhao Chiyun’s high heel touched the ground, parents and students approached.

“I bet you’re Teacher Zhao. Teacher Zhao, you’re a hot commodity lately—don’t jump ship on us.”

Zhao Chiyun instantly donned the smile of an educator, warmly chatting with the parents as they walked inside.

Gan Xun deliberately lagged two steps behind, not wanting to interrupt work time, but curious what “hot commodity” meant.

Zhao Chiyun’s graceful figure shone brilliantly in her eyes. The new long dress seemed like a custom gown dominating the scene.

Zhao Chiyun had made great progress.

From long sleeves covering her hands to rolled-up sleeves, then short sleeves; from long pants covering her ankles to skirts revealing a bit of leg.

Her clothes shifted from loose and concealing to fitted styles.

She even bought a curling iron and taught herself from online videos, periodically styling curls.

With straight hair, Zhao Chiyun looked dignified and poised, her dark eyes and black hair serene as a painting when she lifted her gaze.

With curls, she exuded natural charm, every strand flowing, every smile and frown tugging at the heartstrings, impossible to look away from.

When they went out together, Gan Xun noticed Zhao Chiyun drew far more gazes.

People often asked for her contact info, overtly or covertly.

Annoying!

Cui Can watched Zhao Chiyun enter the classroom laughing elegantly and said to Gan Xun in the hallway, “If I were you, I wouldn’t let her work. I’d keep her home to admire myself.”

Gan Xun said seriously, “That’s not allowed.”

Seeing she couldn’t tease her, Cui Can laughed. “I know. She told me you’d agree to anything she wants. You’re no control freak.”

Gan Xun shook her head. “I haven’t gotten paid yet. Our home relies entirely on her now. Didn’t you know?”

Cui Can: “…”

Indignant: “So she even fed you soft rice.”

Gan Xun nodded, then added precisely, “It’s not that she gets to do whatever she wants.”

Cui Can paused, spotting a flaw in Gan Xun’s serious expression.

“You’re driving. Does she top or bottom? Don’t put on airs with me. I know—the County Princess said you’re all respectful distance, still just pure roommates.”

Put on blast, Gan Xun: “…” It was like that, but also not.

The utterly Platonic Cui Can declared: “Still pure roommates at this stage? One of you is definitely straight, putting on an act.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me.” Gan Xun surrendered.