Chapter 13

Though the atmosphere remained eerie and chilling, the fear in Yun Chun’s heart had completely dissipated.

It was all because that icy question had come from Lu Qingxue herself.

Lu Qingxue—whose name evoked snow, yet whose presence was as warm and gentle as a spring breeze.

Lu Qingxue—the one whom Yun Chun wouldn’t fear even knowing she was a ghost, certain she would never harm her.

Steadying her mind, Yun Chun voiced her confusion. “What do you mean, promising myself to you?”

The question struck even more abruptly than Lu Qingxue’s sudden appearance, leaving Yun Chun utterly baffled.

A cold snort echoed in her ear. “Have you already forgotten your own words?”

Yun Chun fell silent.

Promising herself to Qin Xing?

She pondered for a few seconds before recalling when she had said it.

With a touch of helplessness, she replied, “Uh… that was just a joke.”

Suddenly, a hand settled at her waist, its palm rubbing gently against her side. The thin summer fabric provided no barrier against the chill of Lu Qingxue’s touch. Goosebumps prickled along Yun Chun’s arms, and her body shivered involuntarily.

Lu Qingxue was quite pleased with Yun Chun’s reaction—she had intended it. Yet concerned that Yun Chun might catch a chill, she quickly withdrew her hand. Her verbal reproach, however, continued unabated. “But you were laughing so happily during that phone call.”

“You saw?”

Yun Chun paused, then realization dawned. “That white shadow in the stairwell earlier… that was you, wasn’t it?”

“Mm,” Lu Qingxue confirmed.

Yun Chun pressed on. “How did you suddenly appear there?”

A long sigh emanated from the void, followed by Lu Qingxue’s voice, tinged with melancholy. “You thought of me, so I naturally appeared.”

Yun Chun blinked in bewilderment. When had she thought of Lu Qingxue? Could it be that mere moments ago, when Lu Qingxue’s face and eyes had crossed her mind, she had somehow summoned her?

“As long as I think of you, you’ll appear?” Yun Chun asked uncertainly.

“Of course.”

In the enveloping darkness, Lu Qingxue’s voice rang out clear and steady. “Whenever you think of me, I’ll be right by your side.”

That single confirmation, that unwavering promise—it fell upon Yun Chun’s heart like a shooting star streaking through the night sky.

No one had ever spoken such words to her in all these years.

Especially after her mother’s passing, when she had been left utterly alone in the world, scraping by on mere survival.

She had felt affection from those around her, it was true, but it always came laced with self-interest—love entangled with ulterior motives, never truly hers alone. Yet Lu Qingxue’s words brought a sudden epiphany to Yun Chun. From this moment on, she wouldn’t be alone. She could have companionship as well. And it would be companionship visible only to her.

But Yun Chun soon realized the truth: Lu Qingxue spoke this way only because they were bound together for now.

Once that bond was severed, no amount of longing would summon Lu Qingxue. Yun Chun wouldn’t be able to see her anymore.

They would part ways then.

And never cross paths again.

A sudden wave of sorrow washed over Yun Chun, her emotions unmoored like a vast, irreparable chasm in her chest—dark, fathomless, howling with wind. If she didn’t cling to something solid, she would be pulled into its depths, toward a place unknown whether safe or perilous.

“…”

Yun Chun pressed her tongue against her teeth, the lingering taste of alcohol sharp upon them. She must be drunk, she decided, to indulge in such reckless thoughts.

She asked, “But that day, I wasn’t thinking of you at all. How did you know what I said to Sister Xing?”

If memory served, that had been the morning after her erotic dream. Had Lu Qingxue stayed by her side the entire day? Or had it not been just that day?

The phrase “ghostly appearances” suited Lu Qingxue perfectly.

Another huff of laughter sounded from the darkness. “Do you mind my presence that much?”

Lu Qingxue continued, “Is it because you can soon sever our connection that you’re so thrilled?”

Yun Chun: “…”

What an outrageous accusation.

Yun Chun reached up and flicked the light switch again, but the bulb remained dark. With no other choice, she turned in the dimness, extending her hand toward the source of Lu Qingxue’s voice—only to grasp empty air. She pivoted, scanning every corner, straining her eyes against the pitch black for any trace of that white shadow.

Yet there was nothing, not the slightest glimpse.

Blinking, Yun Chun said, “Where are you? I can’t see you.”

“You want to see me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to see you—that’s reason enough.”

“But I want to hear one.” Lu Qingxue’s voice came slow and teasing. “If you can’t come up with a single one, then you don’t really want to see me.”

Yun Chun peered into the darkness.

Lu Qingxue’s words made her feel like a child being toyed with.

She was the child.

Lu Qingxue was playing with her.

“…”

Recalling how Lu Qingxue had pinned her down and teased her before—and the startled hiccup she’d let out just moments ago—Yun Chun refused to yield.

She laughed. “I want to see what your jealous face looks like.”

She wasn’t making it up; their conversation had carried an unmistakable whiff of jealousy.

Why else bring up something from nearly a month ago, out of the blue?

Why hold onto such a throwaway joke so vividly?

Was Lu Qingxue really that petty?

Even if she was, why fixate on a harmless quip about Qin Xing?

No, Lu Qingxue was jealous, plain and simple.

Why she was jealous… Yun Chun had no idea.

It couldn’t be because she liked her, could it?

Impossible.

Yun Chun dismissed the notion out of hand.

What was there about her worth liking?

She was broke and short on ambition.

Her sole life goal? Make money.

The only dream she dared admit aloud was sticking with modeling—and even that had yielded zero success.

Failure was etched across her face in bold letters.

Yun Chun wallowed in her private melancholy until something felt off. Lu Qingxue hadn’t spoken since her last words.

“Lu Qingxue?”

Yun Chun called out tentatively.

No reply.

“Are you still here?”

Had she vanished again?

The light snapped on in an instant, the harsh glare of the bulb forcing Yun Chun to squeeze her eyes shut.

When she had adjusted enough to slowly reopen them, there sat the white shadow on the edge of her bed.

Unlike the stairwell apparition, Lu Qingxue now wore a light green skirt, her hair elegantly pinned up with a hairpin. Her eyes slanted subtly, their pale hue lending her an ethereal freshness, like a fairy descended to earth.

“I think you’ve misunderstood something.”

Before Yun Chun could respond, Lu Qingxue spoke first, denying it outright.

Dazed by Lu Qingxue’s striking beauty, Yun Chun snapped back at the sound of her voice. “Hm?”

Lifting her gaze to meet Yun Chun’s, Lu Qingxue said slowly, “I’m not jealous.”

She enunciated each word with crystal clarity.

Taken alone, they made sense—but together? Yun Chun couldn’t parse them.

Not jealous?

Yun Chun didn’t buy it for a second.

She had rated the likelihood of Lu Qingxue’s jealousy at fifty percent before; that denial bumped it straight to eighty.

It was the very picture of protesting too much.

Yun Chun fixed her stare on Lu Qingxue, scrutinizing her face for any telltale sign of envy, but it was futile. Lu Qingxue’s composure was flawless, her expression even more impassive than when she strode the T-stage—brows and lips curved just so, in a smile that felt distant and aloof.

Yun Chun refused to concede. She stepped forward and bent at the waist.

“Then that whole interrogation earlier—like we were in court, you putting me on the stand—it sure didn’t feel fake.”

A subtle shadow flickered in Lu Qingxue’s eyes. She lowered her gaze slightly, the beauty mark at the corner shifting with it. She didn’t refute Yun Chun’s claim but offered a perfectly logical explanation instead. “Because even if you won’t admit it, the reality of our marriage exists between us. Which makes you my…”

Lu Qingxue locked eyes with Yun Chun, her lips curving faintly. “Wife.”

She breathed the word “wife” so softly.

Whether from her own reluctance to embrace it or as deliberate provocation, Yun Chun couldn’t tell.

But Lu Qingxue’s serene face—brows arched playfully, eyes alight with amusement—betrayed the latter intent.

And it worked. Yun Chun was thoroughly flustered.

Heat bloomed in her ears, hidden beneath her hair, the lobes flushing pink.

She had lost.

“Wife”… coming from Lu Qingxue’s lips? Utterly against the rules. Especially when aimed at her.

A shiver of numbness tingled through her fingertips; Yun Chun curled them instinctively.

She had meant to expose Lu Qingxue’s jealousy and gauge her reaction—instead, she had been masterfully outmaneuvered.

Deep down, Yun Chun conceded Lu Qingxue’s superior cunning, but she wasn’t about to show it. Pursing her lips, she adopted a solemn tone. “So, you were jealous?”

“It’s not jealousy.” Lu Qingxue let out a soft, amused huff, her fingertip idly brushing a stray lock at her temple. “You just have all the hallmarks of someone looking to stray. As your wife, it’s perfectly normal for me to ask.”

Yun Chun: “…”

How had she become the cheater now?

Talk about a massive false accusation landing on her head.

All other thoughts evaporated as Yun Chun shot back, “I didn’t.”

She was straightforward and honest, wasn’t she?

“Sister Xing and I are just friends.”

“Besides, back then, I didn’t even know about… us.”