Chapter 78: Mirror Country Acquaintance

The garden-style Western restaurant stood across a dark road from them, adorned with Western-style lamps and fresh bouquets, resembling an oil painting by an artist from a picture book.

Gan Xun stepped down from the not-too-high building, one stair at a time, her body carrying the scent of alcohol, flowers, the crisp chill of early autumn, and the warmth from her clothes.

Zhao Chiyun watched her circle around the fountain in the garden and run toward the entrance, then cross the street.

The wind lifted the hem of her skirt, blending it with the night.

Zhao Chiyun patiently waited where she had gotten out of the car.

She thought back to the scene before Gan Xun left.

She had changed clothes and come to the room to tell Zhao Chiyun that they were heading out now.

She wore a velvet dress, black as thick ink with a sheen, sparsely dotted with elegant tiny flowers.

It looked like the night sky brimming with stars.

Previously, Zhao Chiyun had never seen her wear this long skirt—probably because the velvet material wasn’t suitable for the height of summer, and only now in autumn did she have the chance.

Such a beautiful dress, worn for the first time, and it was to meet her colleagues.

Zhao Chiyun set the book on the bed and asked her, “Dressed in night gear, are you going to play assassin?”

Gan Xun knew she didn’t like black, but she had too many black clothes to choose from.

She sat on the edge of the bed, moved the book she was reading aside a bit, leaned in close, and said, “Good citizen here—can’t assassinate anyone.”

Zhao Chiyun didn’t want to engage with this loaded response.

She looked down and asked, “No pants? Won’t you be cold?”

“I’m not cold.”

Gan Xun’s ability to withstand the cold was stronger than most people’s, and she explained, “We’re not going to be outdoors much—just eating inside. I’ll be back right after, and I won’t catch much wind.”

“Don’t catch a chill.”

Zhao Chiyun added.

Gan Xun thought about it—maybe Zhao Chiyun was still shaken from her recent illness.

Not wanting to dismiss her concern, she suggested, “How about I put on some stockings then?”

“No!”

The rejection came too swift and firm, as if no consideration had been given at all. Gan Xun blinked in confusion.

Zhao Chiyun pressed her lips together, then calmly said, “Stockings wouldn’t match your dress. If you’re not cold, this is fine.”

Gan Xun was easily persuaded. “You’re right. No stockings then—I’ll listen to you.”

Zhao Chiyun said, “My fashion magazines weren’t read in vain, were they?”

Gan Xun laughed. “See? You can’t listen to every little detail, or you’d nitpick.”

She cupped Zhao Chiyun’s face and kissed her, gentle as if she were a different person from last night, without further advances.

Zhao Chiyun was the one who made the first move.

She couldn’t get over Gan Xun going out in such glamorous night gear.

Her hand brushed down from Gan Xun’s neck. The V-neck made her neck look slender, and a simple necklace accentuated her collarbone.

Below the collarbone, Zhao Chiyun tried to stir her desires through two layers of fabric.

Just as she felt a response, Gan Xun suddenly gripped her wrist and removed her hand.

Gan Xun’s deep gray eyes held a beautiful gleam, along with confusion and affection. “Teasing me now?”

Zhao Chiyun noticed the faint shimmer of pearl eyeshadow on her lids—the exquisite beauty sparking an urge to rile her up.

The impulse was absurd, but she followed through.

She arched a brow and smiled. “It’s fun.”

Whenever she smiled like that, Gan Xun fell for it—and this time was no different. She couldn’t maintain her composure.

Her voice deepened. “Fun, huh? Let me have some fun too.”

Zhao Chiyun’s sleepwear was pushed up, warm breath hitting her chest directly. Marks from rough treatment bloomed vividly on her snow-white skin, like flowers unfurling one by one.

Gan Xun’s neatly styled hair brushed her chin, replacing the spot where she had been reading with a scene she couldn’t bear to look at directly.

She couldn’t even close her eyes—the intense sensations kept her tense, forcing her to look away. Gan Xun deliberately let her hear every sound, overwhelming her senses.

Gan Xun fumbled under the covers a few times but didn’t truly go all the way.

Perhaps realizing time was short, she pulled back and said piously, “Your cold isn’t fully gone yet—better rest up first.”

Zhao Chiyun thought, Even if I weren’t sick, would you still go out?

She didn’t say it and let Gan Xun leave.

Now Gan Xun stood before her, and she was pleased enough to offer a few compliments without holding back.

Gan Xun matched this garden building perfectly—everything else was secondary, scenery or not. She didn’t care.

Gan Xun was delighted to hear it, but amid the emotion, she still reached out to feel her forehead, confirming no fever.

“Good to see you’re clear-headed.”

Zhao Chiyun: “……”

She swatted her hand away and asked, “Why drink? Pressured by others or your own choice?”

“The mood was right. Colleagues were chatting happily—they’re pretty fun people—so I had a few sips. Don’t worry, no one forced me.”

What truly worried Zhao Chiyun wasn’t that. “As long as you’re not unhappy, that’s good.”

She still remembered the last time Gan Xun drank—from her drunken words, she’d gleaned Gan Xun’s dissatisfaction with her current situation.

So the smell of alcohol made her anxious.

Gan Xun smiled as usual. “How could I be? I was super happy today.”

A car horn blared, and they instinctively stepped back onto the roadside grass together.

A luxury car emerged from the garden, its headlights turning everything bright as day, making their faces even clearer in each other’s eyes.

Worried the light would bother Zhao Chiyun’s eyes, Gan Xun turned her back to the road, shielding her from the glare and dust.

Only after the car passed did she say, “Let’s head back too.”

Gan Xun didn’t take her into the park—night visibility was poor, and the views weren’t great. Besides, with all the trees, the night wind was strong, and she didn’t want Zhao Chiyun exposed to it anymore.

Gan Xun called a car and led her toward the pickup spot. Seeing their shadows merge on the sidewalk, she couldn’t suppress her joy. “Can I take this to mean that even while sick, you still came to pick me up?”

Zhao Chiyun admitted frankly, “Cui Can told me that if I didn’t come, some handsome guy would volunteer to see you home.”

“She swore up and down that gatherings always end that way—plenty of people looking to walk you back. She was at your high school reunion last year.”

“With her saying that, how could I not come?”

She didn’t want Gan Xun surrounded by a bunch of ill-intentioned people.

“……” Gan Xun wasn’t sure whether to thank Cui Can or find a chance to strangle her and nip future trouble in the bud.

“First off, Cui Can studies art—you know artists love the abstract, fantasies, artistic twists on reality.”

“Second,” Gan Xun didn’t want to badmouth her colleagues but had to tell the truth.

“I should’ve brought you to say hi to them. Then you’d see if there were any handsome colleagues around me.”

“What about pretty ones?”

Gan Xun added, “Who could be prettier than you?”

Zhao Chiyun was dressed like a refined young lady tonight. Gan Xun couldn’t resist reaching up to touch the hairpin in her hair—the cool sensation making her heart tingle, stirring memories of last night.

Zhao Chiyun noticed her expression and warned, “We’re still outside—behave.”

Gan Xun withdrew her hand, coughed twice, and changed the subject. “But earlier on the terrace, when I was getting some air, I did run into a woman too stunning for ‘pretty’—looked like a celebrity, puffing away into the night.”

“Puffing mist?”

“That’s smoking.” Gan Xun mimed it.

Zhao Chiyun immediately said, “I don’t like smoke. Do you? You noticed quite closely.”

The car arrived. Gan Xun waved it over while explaining, “I didn’t want to look—her phone kept ringing, she wouldn’t answer, it was bothering me. She even asked if she could light up, and that’s when I saw.”

“I smelled it right after she lit it—unpleasant—so I left quick.”

Zhao Chiyun was satisfied with her earnest explanation and smiled approvingly. “Alright, I wasn’t worried about you.”

“I know.”

It was just flirting, and Gan Xun loved it.

But it didn’t stop her from explaining.

Zhao Chiyun’s illness came and went quickly. After the fever broke, symptoms vanished, leaving her just a bit frail. Two days later, she resumed classes as usual.

Gan Xun was the unlucky one. After taking leave, she grew even busier. With the product launch, she worked overtime frequently and pulled an all-nighter at the company.

This unprecedented overnight stay greatly displeased Zhao Chiyun.

Even though Gan Xun had reported ahead and sent plenty of videos and photos, Zhao Chiyun hadn’t slept well all night. She blamed it entirely on Gan Xun.

Knowing she was in the wrong, Gan Xun reflected that in the past she wouldn’t have pushed so hard—but things were different now.

To make it up to her, during the busy weekend overtime, Gan Xun carved out half a day to take her to Lakeside Park from that night.

The lake in the park stretched endlessly—not an artificial one, with pleasant surrounding ecology. Being there helped Zhao Chiyun regain a sense of familiarity.

Natural beauty with minimal tech traces easily reminded her of her homeland.

Seeing her in high spirits, Gan Xun took many photos of her and had passersby snap some couple shots.

The weather was clear. They avoided main paths, strolling along trails. In a quieter spot, Gan Xun rented bikes, wanting to teach her.

Zhao Chiyun was eager to learn, but while others rode gracefully, her turn brought only struggle and awkwardness, relying entirely on Gan Xun’s support.

She couldn’t balance the bike and herself, and she didn’t understand how Gan Xun made it seem effortless.

Especially with people passing by now and then, watching eagerly, even offering tips—she lost all desire to continue.

In the end, she didn’t learn, just grasped the basics. Gan Xun said she was improving and could practice more next time.

At a rest area, Gan Xun bought water and two ice creams. They sat, enjoying the view while eating.

“My legs hurt. Shoulders too.”

“Legs hurt already? Didn’t you train in martial arts?”

Gan Xun teased, bending down to pinch her calf. Zhao Chiyun yelped in pain.

Feeling embarrassed, she angrily cursed the culprit, Gan Xun.

Birdsong spilled from the woods. She wiped her hands, looked up, and gazed toward the forest across the road.

Two sightseeing cars passed one after the other. Zhao Chiyun watched idly until a familiar profile appeared.

In an instant, she froze, then abruptly stood and hurried a few steps toward the roadside pavilion before stopping.

The car moved slowly, but her hesitation let it slip from view.

Gan Xun followed and asked, “See something?”

Zhao Chiyun said nothing, still staring in the direction it vanished. After a moment, she shook her head. “Maybe I saw wrong.”

Gan Xun keenly sensed her off mood and asked carefully, “A familiar face?”

Zhao Chiyun mocked herself. “Probably the sun dazzled my eyes. If it’s a familiar face, then it’s a ghost.”

“Never mind.” She turned back, sat to rest.

Only then did Gan Xun realize it was an acquaintance from Mirror Country.

To lighten her mood, Gan Xun joked, “You never know. You came here—who says others can’t? Maybe some twist of fate. Were you alone when you fell into the lake?”

Zhao Chiyun’s dazed expression solidified. She looked at Gan Xun, then toward where the car went, her chest burning. Tense and restless, she didn’t know what to do.

“No.”

She finally heard her own voice.

Gan Xun patted her shoulder reassuringly.

Just kidding, of course not. If there were that many transmigrators, there’d be some rumor by now.

Take Zhao Chiyun—her mimicry was strong, but perceptive people could sense something off.

A little digging into her past would uncover it.

Hiding alone in society raised no waves, but more transmigrators? Unpredictable.

Gan Xun figured it impossible and didn’t dwell.

But she noticed Zhao Chiyun might be spiraling.

The rest of the outing, she was distracted, zoning out with weary looks, so Gan Xun took her home.

That night, after blow-drying her hair, seeing her still lost in thought, Gan Xun pointed it out directly. “Do you hope to run into a fellow countryman here, or not?”

Zhao Chiyun looked up, unfocused.

Gan Xun clarified, “Fellow countryman means someone from the same place—calls ’em that for closeness.”

Zhao Chiyun lowered her gaze. “I don’t know. Scared, but also…”

She couldn’t find the words.

Gan Xun understood, so she helped her elaborate: “You’re afraid of running into them, not knowing how to interact with others, and it might easily expose your identity. But at the same time, you’re really looking forward to it deep down—who doesn’t like finding their own kind? Right?”

Zhao Chiyun let out an “Mm.”

After smoothing out her hair for her, Gan Xun bent down and hugged her. “Stop overthinking it; you’re just making yourself feel bad. How about I help you relax a bit?”

The suggestive glint in her eyes burned hot. Realizing what she meant, Zhao Chiyun’s face turned red. “Don’t…”

Gan Xun put on a serious expression. “I mean a massage. Weren’t you complaining that this hurts and that hurts?”