Gan Xun thought that most of the time, Zhao Chiyun didn’t know what she was doing.
Or rather, she did what she wanted without considering the consequences.
Gan Xun knew she couldn’t blame her for that.
The County Princess had integrated into modern society extremely quickly, which was already quite impressive. If it had been someone less intelligent, they would only have fallen into depression.
She had learned to think abstractly, to love money, to be tactful, to restrain her temper, and to willingly run errands for colleagues or friends, helping out with small tasks.
But the mindset formed over more than twenty years hadn’t changed.
People in high positions often acted on whims, chasing whatever amused them, since their margin for error was high anyway.
Unlike the timid little folk who trembled in fear, afraid that one misstep would lead to irreparable consequences.
Many instances of her losing composure stemmed from these unconscious flirtations, which she mistook for permission. But when she leaned in, she discovered that Zhao Chiyun might not have thought it through; she just found it fun.
She wasn’t disappointed. She hadn’t thought it through herself either.
She didn’t even intend to take it any further.
When she pushed open the door behind Zhao Chiyun and they tumbled onto the bed together, kissing, Gan Xun inappropriately thought of all this.
Because of her hesitation, Zhao Chiyun, lying on the pillow, grabbed her collar and pulled her down with a smile.
Gan Xun couldn’t hold herself up and pressed against her body.
Zhao Chiyun was very good at stoking the flames—perhaps not intentionally. She just knew what others liked or couldn’t resist, so she wanted to try it.
But deep down, she might not have intended it as foreplay or an invitation.
When Gan Xun thought of Cui Can’s occasional teasing—that at least one of them must be straight for them to live as pure roommates for over two months—her mind raced.
Zhao Chiyun was pure and untouchable, originally unattainable. If she hadn’t happened to like women, and if Gan Xun hadn’t liked women either, they probably wouldn’t have even attempted this level of intimacy.
Gan Xun tied up all the loose ends in her mind, knot by knot, ensuring she followed Zhao Chiyun’s true intentions.
So she smiled too, met Zhao Chiyun’s enchanting gaze, gently kissed the corner of her lips, smoothed back the hair that had fallen across her forehead from their earlier embrace, and kissed her forehead.
Then she lay down beside her, trying her best to calm herself, pretending nothing had happened as she picked up the phone from the table—even though she couldn’t read a single word on the screen.
She was very thirsty. The only cup by the bed was the one Zhao Chiyun had brought, half spilled, with half left; she wasn’t sure if it was suitable to drink at a time like this.
Without Gan Xun blocking the view above, the ceiling lights seemed glaring, lacking the dim romance of candlelight, and the night had lost its charm.
Zhao Chiyun raised her hand to her forehead, where the warm kiss had landed, using it to shield her eyes from the light.
She also hid some indescribable emotions that way.
Gan Xun finally got up and drank the half cup of water in one go.
“I’ll go pour you another one.”
“Okay.”
In mid-September, Gan Xun received her first month’s salary.
She transferred a special amount to Zhao Chiyun—one that couldn’t be asked back even after a breakup.
Zhao Chiyun didn’t know what it meant and wasn’t sensitive to money, so she didn’t quite understand.
“Why transfer it to me? I can use the money in your card too.”
“You gave me fees for your lessons this period, so I’m giving you mine too. Keep it in your own account from now on.”
Gan Xun said carefully, “Buy two sets of autumn clothes. It’s getting colder.”
Zhao Chiyun nodded first. “Mm.” Then she fell into silent melancholy.
She took a few steps outward, her eyes fixed on the northwest corner of the artificial lake beyond the balcony, soon losing focus as she got lost in thought.
Gan Xun quietly observed her expression. Despite being mentally prepared, her heart sank along with Zhao Chiyun’s bewilderment. She swallowed hard but didn’t disturb her.
Walking hand in hand into the next season wasn’t a promise or a blessing—it was misfortune.
She didn’t want Zhao Chiyun to live in misfortune, but she was powerless to change it, and that made her unfortunate too.
All her joy and happiness were built on the torment of the person she loved.
Cumulus clouds blocked September’s light, dulling the lake surface until even the tree shadows were swallowed into its depths.
During this time, Zhao Chiyun’s life, which had gained some buzz, didn’t encounter any real trouble, but it wasn’t as peaceful as before.
She was constantly called to give demo lessons and had to go to Book Garden almost every day.
Fortunately, she didn’t mind working and enjoyed going out.
When Cui Can returned from her trip, she brought her a handmade hair stick bought locally—silver with bamboo leaves and a short tassel.
Zhao Chiyun loved it very much and had been styling her own hair with it lately.
As soon as she put on the hair stick, Gan Xun couldn’t help thinking of the day they first met, when she had an ancient air about her, her waist-length black hair like satin.
She wondered what Zhao Chiyun looked like in Mirror Country, adorned with a full head of hairpins and ornaments.
But no matter how close her friendship with Cui Can was, Zhao Chiyun didn’t hide the truth.
“If it’s for learning calligraphy, then more demo lessons are all the better—I’m happy to help. But if it’s because certain people can’t take the stage themselves and are calling me out instead, it’s just a pointless fuss.”
Cui Can said, “I understand. Gan Xun told me. Don’t worry—these students and parents have already been screened. They genuinely want to learn, which is why we’ve assigned teachers.”
“But you’re in the spotlight right now. Even though Book Garden has more students, I know it’ll tire you out.”
“How about taking half a month off and staying home to avoid the hype?”
Zhao Chiyun agreed.
With her classes temporarily canceled and no more trips to Book Garden, Zhao Chiyun received many olive branches.
Some wanted her to jump ship, some wanted to package her, and others had different motives.
They couldn’t wait to flaunt their wealth openly or subtly, proving they could give her a good life.
Zhao Chiyun deleted the unexpected friend requests and snapped angrily, “What a pipe dream.”
Gan Xun joined in the cursing and comforted her.
But as such messages piled up, Gan Xun couldn’t pretend she wasn’t nervous.
She didn’t doubt Zhao Chiyun’s character. If the County Princess were merely after luxury, she wouldn’t have stayed by her side this long.
Zhao Chiyun was willful but didn’t care much for material things.
Still, she had to admit those people could indeed offer Zhao Chiyun a better life—fortunately, Zhao Chiyun didn’t want it.
Uncertainly, she asked Zhao Chiyun, “What do you like about me?”
Zhao Chiyun was stunned, as if she had never considered how to answer. She hemmed and hawed, her usually quick tongue stumbling for once.
Gan Xun wasn’t angry that she couldn’t answer, because her face turned red.
Bashfully, she lowered her eyes, instantly melting one’s heart.
During the half month Zhao Chiyun didn’t go to Book Garden, the parent who had bought her calligraphy and paintings pressed Cui Can several times.
Cui Can told Gan Xun about it over the phone first.
“It’s Yan Qiuyu’s mom.”
Gan Xun learned that Lady Yan ran her own business, had been single for years, and raised her daughter alone. She was not yet forty, well-maintained, and looked only in her early thirties.
Cui Can coughed and reminded her, “She’s been paying a lot of attention to the County Princess.”
Gan Xun: “…”
“Don’t curse me out. I told you before.”
Gan Xun remembered; she hadn’t thought much of it then. Many parents with high expectations for their kids showed excessive attention to teachers out of anxiety.
After hesitating, Gan Xun still relayed it to Zhao Chiyun.
“I know.”
Zhao Chiyun flipped through her book nonchalantly.
Gan Xun was puzzled.
“Lady Yan added me on WeChat. I saw her messages.”
It was as if something exploded in Gan Xun’s mind. She paced two steps but still said gently, “We agreed before—try not to add people on WeChat.”
To minimize the trouble Gan Xun would have to deal with if Zhao Chiyun suddenly left one day.
This had been Zhao Chiyun’s idea.
Gan Xun smiled reluctantly and praised her wisdom.
“I know. I only added this one parent. Yan Qiuyu is a student with great aptitude, and her mother admires me too. She added me to pre-order a painting from me. Luckily, the timeline is flexible.”
Zhao Chiyun closed her book and looked at Gan Xun.
“I only spared her face because of how warmly Cui Can treats her.”
Gan Xun tried to understand. “Right, she’s Cui Can’s big client. She’s helped bring in lots of students and often sponsors Book Garden’s various events.”
“Mm.” Zhao Chiyun lost interest and went back to her book.
Gan Xun was already anxious but tried not to show it. Carefully, she asked, “Does she like you?”
Zhao Chiyun was surprised. She thought for a moment and shook her head. “Not sure.”
“She’s many years older than me and hasn’t shown any such intentions.”
“Maybe it’s just respect for a teacher and a love for art.”
“What did she send you?”
Gan Xun actually wanted to say, “Can I see?” but held back.
She felt that Zhao Chiyun received so much goodwill and affection that she might not discern others’ intentions clearly.
If she helped identify it, things would be clearer.
“She invited me to her home for private calligraphy and painting lessons with Yan Qiuyu. The fee is very high.”
Gan Xun screamed internally and paced two more steps. “You didn’t agree, right?”
“No. I told her Cui Can is my boss, and I’m following her arrangements—right now, that’s staying home.”
That was why Lady Yan kept asking Cui Can.
Gan Xun said seriously, “No matter what, don’t go to her house.”
Zhao Chiyun had half her attention on the book’s illustrations, which were quite interesting. Hearing this, she looked up with a curious gaze.
Gan Xun rarely spoke to her like this.
So she confirmed, “Are you ordering me? Or making rules?”
Afraid of a communication failure, Gan Xun quickly shook her head and squatted in front of her. “No, I mean, you don’t know her intentions yet. Going to someone’s home is very dangerous. We should avoid that as much as possible.”
“No matter how high the fee, we don’t need the money that badly.”
After thinking it over, Zhao Chiyun said, “As you wish.”
Gan Xun breathed a sigh of relief. Then she asked, “Do you think she’s pretty?”
“Quite glamorous,” Zhao Chiyun said honestly.
“Haven’t you seen her?”
Gan Xun said, “I’m just asking your opinion.”
She silently sent Cui Can a barrage of punching and kicking emojis.
Cui Can: [?]
Not long after Zhao Chiyun went to the mall to buy autumn clothes, Mirror City had two bouts of rain in a row, and temperatures dropped sharply. The new clothes finally came in handy.
Cui Can couldn’t keep the classes paused any longer and negotiated a new schedule with Zhao Chiyun.
That day, after finishing her lesson, Zhao Chiyun saw the downpour outside and heard faint thunder, which made her uneasy.
In weather like this, one shouldn’t linger outside.
Cui Can and Lan Xiaoxi both had things to do that day and weren’t around. The office felt deserted, and Zhao Chiyun didn’t want to stay.
Sitting on the first floor, she tried to call a ride, but after waiting several minutes, the order she finally got was canceled.
“Teacher Zhao.”
Hearing the voice, Zhao Chiyun turned, stood up, and smiled faintly. “Qiuyu, Qiuyu’s mom.”
Yan Qing looked at her phone screen. “Trying to get a ride? It’s hard in this rain. Where do you live? Let me see if it’s on my way.”
Zhao Chiyun politely declined. “Thank you, but I’m not in a hurry. I can wait a bit longer.”
Yan Qiuyu leaned over and persuaded, “Teacher Zhao, just tell us. If it’s not on the way, no big deal. If it is, we can go together— it’d be great. I still want to chat with you about recent stuff.”
Zhao Chiyun glanced outside; the sky was almost dark. After thinking, she gave the name of her neighborhood.
“It’s on the way. Let’s go. No trouble at all.”
Once seated in the car, Zhao Chiyun still felt uneasy and asked the front seat, “May I make a phone call?”
“Of course.”
She dialed. “A Xun, I’m heading back.”
“Yeah, hard to get a ride. Luckily, someone gave me a lift on their way.”
“It’s someone named Yan,” Zhao Chiyun told her.
