This question plunged Yun Chun into silence.
Lu Qingxue had asked something similar before, but back then, her willingness to let go had been based on not knowing who the other party was. She had said she was willing.
But now that she knew it was Lu Qingxue, was she still willing?
Yun Chun instinctively asked herself: Why wouldn’t she be?
She and Lu Qingxue… they had only known each other as children.
There had been no contact between them as adults, so there was no attachment to sever or hold onto.
Moreover, this absurd ghost marriage was something Yun Chun despised.
Not aimed at Lu Qingxue, but the ghost marriage itself.
So even if she hesitated, she would ultimately dissolve this bond.
With anyone else, Yun Chun might have said some kind words, skirting around the issue with vague platitudes. Or she might have ignored it outright and changed the subject.
But facing Lu Qingxue, Yun Chun didn’t want to dodge or deceive her.
The reason was probably… that lollipop she had never tasted.
It must have been so sweet.
Thinking of what she was about to say, Yun Chun lowered her gaze, avoiding Lu Qingxue’s eyes.
Her downcast eyes fixed on the thin moonlight shattered by the lamp on the floor. In a soft voice, she said, “We’re not from the same world.”
Seeing Yun Chun bow her head, Lu Qingxue guessed that nothing good was coming. When she heard the answer, the smile at the corner of Lu Qingxue’s mouth stiffened, and the hand propping her temple slowly lowered.
Her expression returned to normal as her hand dropped. Her body, light as drifting clouds and smoke, floated right in front of Yun Chun, and one hand came to rest on Yun Chun’s shoulder.
A chill swept over Yun Chun, accompanied by Lu Qingxue’s curious question. “How did you become the sales champion with such a harsh mouth?”
She even knew about her job.
Feeling the cool, silky temperature on her shoulder, Yun Chun’s mouth parted slightly, wanting to explain, but no words came out.
That previous sentence had already been her gentlest response.
Lu Qingxue asked again, “Or is it just toward me that you’re so sharp?”
Yun Chun pressed her lips together. She would never speak to customers like that—if she did, how could she make any money?
After a long pause, Yun Chun said, “I’m sorry.”
Her apology wasn’t because she thought she’d said anything wrong, but because Lu Qingxue’s word “harsh” made her feel that Lu Qingxue minded what she’d said.
She was apologizing for her attitude.
Lu Qingxue let out a light hum. “I don’t accept.”
A flicker of startled uncertainty passed through Yun Chun’s eyes. In her subconscious, Lu Qingxue was gentle enough to embrace everything. In her memories, Lu Qingxue’s charming, narrow willow-leaf eyes were always curved, like they held a clear spring, the flowing light in them a symbol of tolerance and softness.
In the years since they’d lost touch, Yun Chun had encountered others with similar gentleness now and then, but whenever she met someone with the same type of demeanor or eyes, she would inevitably think of that warmth unique to Lu Qingxue.
Like water, impossible to sever. It quietly nourished the images deep in her memories, and those willow-leaf eyes lingered unerasably.
Even as a ghost now, the light in Lu Qingxue’s eyes matched Yun Chun’s memories perfectly—rippling with flecks of autumn water, shimmering with wavelets.
During the few seconds that Yun Chun stared at her in a daze, the hand Lu Qingxue had on her shoulder lifted its index finger. The cool fingertip toyed with Yun Chun’s earlobe, back and forth. The soft lobe quickly turned red under Lu Qingxue’s fingertip, the warm sensation like a summer night’s breeze.
Yun Chun felt the burning heat in her ear and shyly requested, “Could you… stop playing with it?”
Lu Qingxue hummed in acknowledgment, but her motion didn’t cease.
Two seconds later, Yun Chun took a deep breath. As she turned her body to evade the finger beneath her earlobe, she faced Lu Qingxue squarely.
Under Lu Qingxue’s gaze, Yun Chun exhaled softly and said, “I’m just stating the facts. I’m human, you’re a ghost. Even if I didn’t want to let go, we couldn’t have a future. Whether I want to or not, it’s already decided.”
With that, Yun Chun watched Lu Qingxue closely.
She saw the corners of Lu Qingxue’s eyes lift slightly, and then those willow-leaf eyes narrowed again in an ambiguous half-smile.
Lu Qingxue leaned forward, her ink-black hair sliding off her shoulder.
Yun Chun watched her draw closer bit by bit and instinctively retreated.
Lu Qingxue pursued relentlessly.
Until Yun Chun’s back pressed against the sofa, the corner of her goose-yellow skirt pinched and slightly wrinkled, with nowhere left to retreat. Lu Qingxue braced against the sofa, trapping Yun Chun in her embrace. As Yun Chun’s body arched back slightly, Lu Qingxue loomed over her.
Yun Chun’s breath caught.
Lu Qingxue’s dangling strands of hair brushed exactly against her collarbone, tickling it.
But she didn’t dare brush them away. She didn’t dare move.
No matter how wonderful Lu Qingxue was, that was the her from her memories. Yun Chun hadn’t forgotten—the Lu Qingxue right now was a ghost.
She tensed, shrinking back a little, holding her breath as she waited to see what Lu Qingxue would do.
But Lu Qingxue merely held her in place and stopped moving.
She was watching Yun Chun too.
Yun Chun’s eyes were beautiful—round, with even her lower lashes long and fine. When she blinked, they were moist and dewy, like tender sprouts thriving after spring rain.
This sparked Lu Qingxue’s curiosity. A girl who had dropped out of school early and hustled in society for years, enduring plenty of hardship—how could her eyes still hold such pure clarity at their depths?
She looked so easy to fool.
As if saying you loved her would make her believe it wholeheartedly, then devote herself to you utterly.
Yet this was the first time in months that Lu Qingxue had seen this look in Yun Chun’s eyes.
Could it be… she only showed this childlike gaze toward her?
Yun Chun stared unwaveringly at Lu Qingxue. She saw Lu Qingxue’s lips curve up in good humor, as if she’d thought of something.
Before the smile faded, Lu Qingxue’s thin lips parted lightly. “Coax me.”
Yun Chun, who had braced for something real, blinked. “…?”
She didn’t quite process it.
Her drawn-up legs relaxed then, her feet touching the floor. With that support, Yun Chun felt a bit more steady inside. She said awkwardly, “H-how do I coax you?”
“How do you usually coax customers into buying drinks?”
“That’s to make money.”
“So it’s not sincere?”
“Of course it’s sincere! I align with the money.”
“I have money too.”
“Keep it for yourself. I don’t need ghost money just yet.”
Lu Qingxue had meant renminbi, but hearing this, she played along. “You can prepay.”
Yun Chun: “…”
A few seconds passed with no sign of Yun Chun coaxing her. Lu Qingxue hooked a lock of fine hair from Yun Chun’s neck and said, “I’m easy to coax.”
She added, “Just try.”
“Why should I coax you?”
“Your words made me unhappy.”
“But you oppose this ghost marriage too, don’t you?”
“I oppose the ghost marriage, not you.”
A thread of amusement flowed from Lu Qingxue’s eyes. Her tone held no anger, but her words carried heat.
Yun Chun froze.
At first listen, it almost sounded like a confession?
Lu Qingxue continued, “I bet you feel the same, right?”
Yes.
She had said so in her heart from the start—aimed at the ghost marriage… not Lu Qingxue.
So it wasn’t a confession. Lu Qingxue just cherished their childhood bond, like she did.
Lu Qingxue spoke again, her voice ethereal. “You know, we’re bound together now. If I get unhappy, you might end up with a streak of bad luck.”
Yun Chun was taken aback, thoroughly spooked.
Before she could question the truth of it, Lu Qingxue went on. “When misfortune hits a person, it starts with no money coming in. Then losses pile up, and finally—”
“I was wrong!”
Yun Chun hurriedly cut her off, worried three words alone wouldn’t show enough sincerity. She added, “I said the wrong thing earlier. Please don’t be unhappy, okay?”
Lu Qingxue’s index finger crooked, her knuckle rubbing Yun Chun’s chin. Her lowered lashes hid the sly amusement in her eyes as she asked in feigned calm, “That’s it?”
What more?
Yun Chun wanted to cry but had no tears.
She hadn’t doubted Lu Qingxue’s words at all!
What was Lu Qingxue? A ghost! The unclean stuff from ghost stories! She’d already drawn bad luck by tangling with one. If Lu Qingxue got upset and pulled excess negative energy her way, filling her aura with misfortune… how could she earn a living then?!
Yun Chun was truly scared.
Without thinking, she grabbed a corner of Lu Qingxue’s skirt and shook it coquettishly. “Even though you’re a ghost and I’m human, no one else can see you—only I can. What does that mean? It means fate in the shadows linked us together. We’re not from the same world, but we have a bond.”
Yun Chun strung her excuse together. “Even if our ending now is set, once I die, our story restarts, right~”
Yun Chun thought this would suffice, but all she got was a sigh from Lu Qingxue.
Huh? Not even that worked?
As Yun Chun racked her brain for more ways to make amends, Lu Qingxue spoke.
She said, “Then I’d have to wait eighty years for our story to restart with you.”
Yun Chun: “?”
What did that mean?
Lu Qingxue’s thumb and index finger gently pinched Yun Chun’s chin, her voice soft. “My little fibber needs to live a full hundred years.”
Yun Chun instinctively retorted, “I didn’t lie to you…”
She paused, suddenly realizing Lu Qingxue was blessing her.
Looking closer, Lu Qingxue’s eyes curved in a smile.
Had she succeeded in coaxing her?
Yun Chun wasn’t sure.
After some inner struggle, she called out softly, “Sister Lu…”
She remembered that when they were little, Lu Qingxue would always make her call her that way, but Yun Chun had stubbornly refused every time and rarely used the name.
Now, to avoid any bad luck, Yun Chun was going all out!
It was an extremely obedient call.
To Lu Qingxue, that single word proved more effective than all the previous reassurances.
Just as Lu Qingxue opened her mouth to say something, the lights flickered twice.
In the blink of an eye, Yun Chun realized the shadow hovering over her had vanished without a trace.
Yun Chun sat up in a daze. After glancing around the room, she discovered that Lu Qingxue was nowhere to be seen.
?
Where had she gone?
“Lu Qingxue?”
Yun Chun called out, but received no response.
Had she left?
Did that mean she was appeased?
She should be, right?
Wasn’t she supposed to be easy to coax? As long as nothing unlucky happened to her.
But how had Yun Chun managed to coax her into disappearing entirely?
As these thoughts raced through her mind, Yun Chun couldn’t suppress a yawn.
She glanced at the time. No longer dwelling on where Lu Qingxue had gone, she decided to wash up and head to bed.
After all, Lu Qingxue had already reached her ultimate form. Nothing bad would happen to her.
Yun Chun, on the other hand, had a busy day ahead tomorrow.
