Chapter 22

Yun Chun’s eyelashes fluttered.

What was she supposed to try?

It wasn’t something you could just try on a whim, was it?

Though she cleared her throat inwardly, they had indeed shared intimate moments before. But those had been explicitly necessary, under duress. Now that they’d found a solution, bringing it up again felt… ambiguous, crossing the line beyond friendship.

Yun Chun asked softly, “Wouldn’t that be… a bit too casual?”

The mole at the corner of Lu Qingxue’s eye twitched slightly. “Casual?”

“Yeah!”

Yun Chun sat in the chair, tilting her head up to gaze at Lu Qingxue. Her raised neck was slender like a swan’s, graceful and pale. But the elegant pose clashed with her words, which Lu Qingxue couldn’t endorse.

“To prove whether there’ll be dark circles, we do that kind of thing? Don’t you think… ouch.”

Before Yun Chun could finish, Lu Qingxue’s fingertip poked her forehead.

The touch carried a wealth of helpless exasperation.

Even her tone carried a sigh. “What are you thinking in that head of yours?”

Yun Chun’s clear, limpid eyes fixed on Lu Qingxue, her direct stare asking what else it could be. She said nothing, letting her gaze pose the question.

Lu Qingxue chuckled, her moist eyes like pristine moonlight, clear and shimmering with a watery sheen. “I mean sleeping together.”

Yun Chun’s gaze mirrored back: That’s what I meant too.

Lu Qingxue added, “Nothing else—just sleeping.”

…Oh.

Yun Chun tugged at the corner of her mouth and giggled. “That’s what I meant too! What were you thinking, Sister Qingxue?”

Lu Qingxue laughed lightly. “Is it?”

Yun Chun kept a straight face. “It is.”

Lu Qingxue, calm and composed, didn’t press further. Instead, she smiled faintly and asked, “So, can we sleep together then?”

Yun Chun didn’t agree right away. Curiosity sparked in her as she asked, “Do you even need sleep?”

She meant: Do ghosts need sleep?

There was no other intent—just pure curiosity about the unknown.

Lu Qingxue understood. A faint blue glow shimmered over her form, like a night sprite if the lights were off. Even with them on, she was captivating, drawing Yun Chun’s gaze for a moment.

“Sleep itself isn’t important,” Lu Qingxue said patiently and steadily. “What’s important is that I need you to believe me—that being close to me won’t hurt you anymore.”

Her tone was even, but Yun Chun heard the desolation in it.

A chill that struck straight to the heart, unerring.

Like a full moon hanging high, suddenly shrouded by dark clouds, its light muffled through the veil, turning dull and gray.

Like dust kicked up by wild horses.

And why did that ethereal blue moonlight struggle through the heavy clouds? To carry a message to the moon.

The moon said, “This way, you won’t hide from me anymore.”

Yun Chun murmured instinctively, “I wasn’t hiding from you to begin with.”

It was the clouds’ fault.

They blocked you, kept me from seeing you.

But even with clouds in the way, your pure white, sacred, gentle, radiant light—I could still see it, still feel it.

Even with clouds interfering, you still lit the path for me.

No matter where that path led, as long as I chose to move forward, you illuminated it.

And when I looked back, even the way behind was bright.

Forward or retreat—you lit it all for me.

Every direction, my little world, filled with your light.

Under that light, I could take any path I wanted, or even ones I hadn’t imagined, to any place.

How could I hide? Why would I want to?

I might even wonder how to repay your gentle moonlight.

But you asked in return, “Not now, but what about later?”

Yun Chun’s lips parted blankly. In a daze, she reached out and grabbed Lu Qingxue’s clothes. Her grip was too tight, bunching the fabric like surging waves, spilling out her rawest thoughts. She said firmly, “Not later, either.”

Lu Qingxue fell silent, pondering. “Believable?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Yun Chun grew annoyed. She let go, stood up, and pulled Lu Qingxue into a tight hug.

A very forceful hug.

Sometimes words just couldn’t convey it clearly enough, and others wouldn’t believe them. In those moments, action spoke louder than endless questions, endless doubts, endless hesitation.

If it kept going like that, it could only mean the other person wasn’t truly important.

Even if they came from different worlds, even with vast differences in status, even if she didn’t believe you—you had to voice your heart. Risk decay for the chance.

The outcome didn’t matter; what mattered was no regrets.

And if you didn’t speak, all you’d get was loss.

Of course, if you could accept a life without her, you could stay silent, play the mute, delete her WeChat contact—because the moment you hit delete, you’d already chosen to cut her out of your life…

Though Yun Chun didn’t have Lu Qingxue’s WeChat.

They didn’t need it anyway. Lu Qingxue had said that as long as she thought of her in her heart, she’d appear—no matter the time, no matter the place.

As long as she thought of Lu Qingxue, Lu Qingxue would come.

Lu Qingxue stiffened at first in the embrace. Yun Chun was like the sun—her warmth overwhelming, impossible to resist.

Even the heat of her body was a luxury Lu Qingxue couldn’t feel at night.

So fierce.

So vibrant.

So dazzling.

So… uncontrollably compelling, making her want to ask about Yun Chun, pay attention to everything about her without restraint.

The sun was like that.

Warmly shining down.

Yun Chun was too.

So to Lu Qingxue, Yun Chun was the sun.

Now the sun was hugging her, bones pressing into her, flesh burning against her.

Telling her, “You have to believe me.”

Lu Qingxue’s fingers twitched at her side, her wrist slowly lifting. She moved deliberately slowly, as if giving Yun Chun a chance to pull away.

But Yun Chun didn’t. She held on tight.

If Lu Qingxue were alive, she might’ve been squeezed breathless.

But she wasn’t. Still, she felt the force of Yun Chun’s hug, heard her heartbeat, saw the misty sheen in her eyes.

And she could touch the warmth of Yun Chun’s back.

Despite her slow movements, Yun Chun didn’t let go. Lu Qingxue’s hand finally rested on Yun Chun’s back, returning the embrace.

And just like that, the hug was complete.

Feeling Lu Qingxue’s response, Yun Chun knew she believed her now.

She loosened her arms, stepped back half a pace, and sat back in the chair. Gazing at Lu Qingxue, she said, “You’re a ghost now—what would I gain by lying to you?”

What was there to lie about?

Lu Qingxue smiled faintly. “Because you’re good at sweet-talking people.”

People good at sweet-talking often didn’t even realize it themselves.

Honeyed words became routine.

Even their smiles.

All deceptions, camouflage, ways to carve out a place in this hellish world.

But I never sweet-talked you.

Yun Chun thought to herself.

Even if your unhappiness spelled trouble for me, I never lied just to cheer you up.

Yun Chun quickly finished applying her skincare and rose from the chair.

While this happened, Lu Qingxue settled onto the sofa where the clothes were kept. Yun Chun approached, staring down at her, then leaned in. “I never said sweet things to coax you before, but now I want to try.”

Mischief danced in her eyes as she curved her lips and cooed softly, “Sister Lu, it’s time for bed.”

Hearing “Sister Lu” again, Lu Qingxue’s composure held firm this time—no flicker in the lightbulb.

Lu Qingxue raised a brow. “Which part was the sweet talk?”

“You guess.”

“I guess the second half.” She liked the first part and didn’t want it to be the coaxing one.

“Wrong guess.”

Yun Chun turned and lay down on the bed, patting the other side. “Lu Qingxue, time for bed.”

She bent her long legs, pulling the covers over her graceful form. Before closing her eyes, she added, “But you’re getting in last—you turn off the light.”

~~~

Yun Chun woke to licking.

On her foot, specifically.

At first, still half in her dream, she was groggy and didn’t register it, thinking it was part of the dream. But as wet saliva soaked her foot, a subconscious nerve tensed, the slick, clammy sensation intensifying—then Yun Chun yanked her foot back and bolted upright in shock.

Her bleary, sleep-heavy eyes met the big golden retriever at the bedside.

Its two eyes were pure and bright, as if utterly innocent of what it’d just done.

Seeing it inch closer to the bed, Yun Chun hastily pulled her foot away, her thick morning grumpiness softening into a whine. “Woo…”

How had she forgotten this big guy?

Was the licking its way of waking her to feed it?

“Sorry about the poor hospitality,” Yun Chun said through a yawn. She threw off the tangled thin blanket. “Wait a sec—I’ll get your food right now.”

Yun Chun skirted around the golden retriever and got out of bed on the other side. Her slippers were near its paws; she didn’t dare retrieve them and ran barefoot into the living room instead. There, she found the dog food and water already portioned out, with signs it’d been eaten.

Her just-wakened brain short-circuited, unable to process it.

Did she have a seashell girl at home?

Then a familiar soft voice sounded in her ear.

“Are you up?”

Oh, it wasn’t the Little Mermaid—it was Qingxue.

Still groggy from sleep, Yun Chun had forgotten not just the dog, but even the person she’d shared a bed with the night before.

Yun Chun turned toward the source of the voice and saw Lu Qingxue at the dining table, her back to Yun Chun as she arranged the plates.

Lu Qingxue wore a champagne-colored satin slip dress with lace cutouts at the hem and back. The fabric clung perfectly to her body. Unlike Yun Chun, who hid her figure in oversized sleepwear—leaving only her arms and legs visible—every stitch of Lu Qingxue’s dress accentuated her alluring form. The lightweight material draped elegantly over her slender shoulders, narrow waist, and graceful curves.

Her delicate waist was a sight to behold.

Beneath the lace cutouts, her smooth, pale back peeked through tantalizingly. The lace spread out in an inverted triangle, barely tapering off just above her hips, exposing a generous expanse of her slim waist.

Her entire back was on display, veiled only by the lace and stray strands of hair, like a misty landscape painting—meant to be felt, not fully seen.

As Lu Qingxue bent over, her hair cascaded down, revealing the gentle valley of her spine, with each vertebra subtly outlined.

The light cast shadows along those bones, like butterflies perched in delicate repose.

Yun Chun caught sight of it all, and suddenly she wondered what it would feel like to trace her fingers up along those vertebrae.

She didn’t know the exact sensation, but the texture had to be exquisite.

Before falling asleep last night, she’d lain stiffly straight, but in her dreams, her position had twisted into chaos. In a haze of drowsiness, her hand had brushed against the person beside her, meeting a soft, yielding warmth that half-woke her. Realizing someone was there, she started to pull back—but her wrist was caught and guided right back. Then came a soft laugh: “Little Darling, your sleeping position is anything but darling.”

Hearing that melodic voice laced with amusement, Yun Chun relaxed and drifted off again.

She didn’t know exactly where her hand had landed, but it told her one thing: Lu Qingxue was incredibly soft.

So even if those bones were firm, the skin above them surely was too.

What if it were a kiss?

Would it feel even better?

After all, lips were softer than fingers.

Starting from the tailbone, trailing upward with gentle kisses.

Yun Chun shook her head, banishing the thought.

What was she thinking?

Too… too lewd.

Could Qin Xing be right about her being a pervert?

“…”

Refusing to admit it, Yun Chun shifted her attention elsewhere.

She glanced at the dog’s bowl again. “Sister Qingxue, did you fill this?”

Lu Qingxue turned her head and smiled with crinkled eyes. “Mm-hmm.”

Forcing herself not to stare at Lu Qingxue’s back, Yun Chun walked over, muttering along the way, “If it has food, why was it licking me?”

Lu Qingxue finished setting the table and turned, leaning against it. “I had Merry wake you for breakfast.”

She continued, “You need to take it out in the morning, or it’ll go inside the house. I doubt you’d want that. Eat first, then walk it, and you can sleep more when you get back, okay?”

Lu Qingxue stepped up to Yun Chun, reaching out to tame her sleep-tousled hair and smooth down the stubborn cowlick at the crown of her head. “Go wash up first.”

Still not fully awake, Yun Chun didn’t register how natural their interaction felt. She just replied lazily, “Okay.”

After washing up, Yun Chun checked herself in the mirror. There were no dark circles under her eyes like usual—her face looked just as rested as before bed the night before.

Had her body really adapted to Lu Qingxue, just as she’d said?

~~~

Yun Chun sat at the table, where toasted bread, fried eggs, and a steaming cup of milk awaited.

From her seat beside Yun Chun, Lu Qingxue said, “I’ve spent a lot of time abroad, so I’m good at this stuff. If you want Chinese food, I can make that too.”

“Anything’s fine.”

Waking up to a ready meal? She was grateful enough without being picky.

“I spent some time abroad too, for fashion shows. Things were so hectic then—no time for breakfast, but I got used to other options anyway.”

After Yun Chun finished, her eyes narrowed playfully. “But Sister Qingxue, you don’t have to bother. I can cook for myself.”

Lu Qingxue shook her head. “I’m not busy anyway. I like taking care of you a bit.”

“I’ve got hands and feet—why keep troubling you?”

It was nice to be looked after, but Yun Chun wasn’t shameless enough to take it for granted.

As she munched on her toast, she added, “What if my limbs atrophy?”

Lu Qingxue rested her hand on her forehead, gazing at Yun Chun with a lazy smile. “What then? Let me think…”

Two seconds later, her eyes curved. “If you don’t mind, how about your big sister takes care of you?”

Yun Chun nearly choked.

Not on the bread, but on Lu Qingxue’s words.

They sounded… a bit charged.

She quickly gulped down some milk.

The creamy white moistened her lips, glistening transparently.

Lu Qingxue’s gaze deepened at the sight. In a softer tone, she said, “I knew you’d refuse. So how about agreeing to my earlier request? It’s just cooking—no need to feel bad. I’ve watched you these past days, and your meals…”

Lu Qingxue paused, choosing her words carefully. “I think you could use a change of pace.”

Yun Chun badly wanted to ask what she’d left unsaid.

But the second half made it clear—Lu Qingxue thought her cooking was awful.

Yun Chun opened her mouth to argue. Sure, it didn’t look great, but… okay, no buts. It really was bad.

She just wasn’t picky and could stomach anything—especially her own cooking, which she forced down no matter what.

The lump in her throat eased with the milk, and Yun Chun replied, “Fine… do whatever you want.”

After a few more bites, she remembered something Lu Qingxue had said. “Have you been abroad the whole time?”

“Mm, I came back a few years ago.” Lu Qingxue watched Yun Chun, hesitating before adding, “I was overseas when Aunt Qin passed—even after the funeral, I only heard from my parents. I didn’t make it back in time.”

Her voice dropped. “Sorry.”

Yun Chun smiled. “Nothing to apologize for. It’s the thought that counts. And it’s in the past now.”

Lu Qingxue murmured her agreement.

Silence settled over the table.

The only sound in the house was Merry playing with its ball—faint, but clear in the quiet.

Lu Qingxue’s hand rested on the table edge. She broke the hush first. “Is it good?”

Yun Chun gave her a thumbs-up. “You could open a restaurant.”

Lu Qingxue smiled faintly—high praise for any cook.

Seeing Yun Chun sip her milk again, Lu Qingxue suddenly remembered something. “Little Darling.”

Yun Chun looked up. “Hm?”

“Could we get a coffee machine later?”

Yun Chun blinked. “A coffee machine? Why?”

Lu Qingxue’s voice was gentle. “I’d like to brew coffee for you.”

But I don’t even like coffee.

Plus…

Her instincts told Yun Chun that whatever machine Lu Qingxue wanted wouldn’t be cheap.

It felt totally unnecessary.

But…

Lu Qingxue’s eyes met hers—those rainy-day eyes now bright and clear, shimmering with anticipation. It seemed like brewing coffee for Yun Chun would make Lu Qingxue blissfully happy. That realization overrode Yun Chun’s objections; suddenly, a coffee machine seemed essential.

She pulled out her phone, opened JD.com, and handed it over. “You pick.”

Lu Qingxue took the phone but didn’t search right away. She confirmed, “Really? It’s okay?”

Yun Chun nodded. “Yeah.”

Her money could fund Qin Xing’s company, so why not a coffee machine for Lu Qingxue?

Yun Chun was stingy only with herself—generous enough with friends.

Money was meant to be spent, and wisely.

Qin Xing’s venture mattered. So did Lu Qingxue’s whims.

She wasn’t miserly with herself, just frugal by habit, with low material desires. That’s why she spent so little.

Hearing this thrifty woman truly agree, Lu Qingxue smiled warmly. “Thank you, Little Darling. Don’t worry—I’ll pay you back.”

Lu Qingxue’s smile was stunning, like a spring scene after rain, drenched in soft, lingering moisture—deeper, richer hues than usual.

Stunning enough to leave Yun Chun dazed for two seconds.

“N-No need.”

Lu Qingxue didn’t respond, already scrolling through options.

Yun Chun clutched her milk cup, staring.

Perhaps her gaze was too intense; Lu Qingxue looked up. “What’s wrong?”

Yun Chun shook her head and looked away, all serious.

But seconds later, as Lu Qingxue focused back on the phone, Yun Chun’s eyes drifted over again, unbidden.

Seeing Lu Qingxue intently browsing, Yun Chun inexplicably wanted to ask if there was anything else she needed…

Not for any reason—just to spend on Lu Qingxue and see that smile.

Recalling the enchanting one from moments ago.

In her heart, Yun Chun thought: Worth every penny.