Lu Qingxue didn’t seem interested in why she’d been late. She didn’t press for details, and when Yun Chun trailed off, she simply said, “What do you have to apologize for? You’re busy—I get it.”
Waiting for you? I’m used to it.
“Sister Qingxue…” Yun Chun murmured.
Lu Qingxue asked, “Have you eaten?”
Yun Chun glanced instinctively at the dining table. A steaming cup of coffee stood there, next to a plate with sandwiches.
“I have,” Yun Chun answered honestly, her feet already carrying her toward the table. “But I’m still hungry.”
Lu Qingxue followed a step behind, watching Yun Chun’s back. The smile tugging at her lips softened a little, but didn’t fade entirely.
Standing by the table, Yun Chun looked down at the coffee in the cup. She picked it up and took a sip.
It was bitter.
The soy milk she’d had that morning had been sweet. The coffee had sugar in it too, but it was still bitter.
Even so, despite her taste buds being altered by the morning’s soy milk, Yun Chun still remembered the flavor of coffee.
She took a big gulp, the familiar taste grounding her. She looked up at Lu Qingxue, blinking her round eyes.
Lu Qingxue’s gaze softened. “How does it taste?”
Yun Chun nodded vigorously. “Delicious!”
Lu Qingxue smiled. “Then eat up.”
Yun Chun hummed in agreement, went to the kitchen to wash her hands, then sat down and started on the sandwiches. The guilt still lingered in her chest, so she scrambled for a change of subject and dredged up that silly question again. “Sister Qingxue, what do you think counts as breakfast—the first meal of the morning, or the first one after you wake up?”
As soon as the words were out, Yun Chun paused. “Does that sound super boring?”
She’d forgotten: in this world, probably only Yueqin wouldn’t mind her questions.
Whatever. She was just trying to shift the topic—might as well try another one.
She opened her mouth to say something else, but Lu Qingxue beat her to it. “Not at all.”
Lu Qingxue sat down across from her, resting her hands on the edge of the table. From Yun Chun’s angle, the steam from the coffee rose to frame Lu Qingxue’s misty eyes, her voice seeming to carry a hint of dampness. “To me, the first meal after you wake up is breakfast.”
It was a different answer from Yueqin’s.
An answer that had chosen firmly between the two options.
Delivered with such conviction.
Yun Chun couldn’t help asking, “Why?”
Lu Qingxue’s lashes fluttered lightly, her gaze lifting like shattered moonlight rippling with soft white light, a galaxy shimmering within. When those eyes met Yun Chun’s, they focused intently, as if in that vast starry sea, she’d found the one star that belonged to her alone.
Tenderness filled the entire universe in her eyes as Lu Qingxue spoke to that faint red star hanging on the horizon. “Forget all the other definitions. You’re my center.”
From my stargazing spot, you’re on the edge of the sky.
But in the starlit sea I see, you’re the star at the very heart of the endless expanse.
No other light compares to the faint red glow around you.
So subtle that I don’t dare blink, my eyes locked on you. And every time your red glimmer flickers, I selfishly imagine you’re waving hello to me.
Lu Qingxue didn’t wait for Yun Chun’s response. Stars shine for themselves, after all—not just for one watcher.
But this star with its red flecks of light seemed like hers alone right now, discovered only by her. Even from the horizon, it felt close at hand, intimately hers.
Smiling at Yun Chun, Lu Qingxue said, “The day only truly starts when you wake up—and that’s the same for me.”
Yun Chun’s heart beat faster.
The rich, thick aroma of coffee filled her mouth.
Under Lu Qingxue’s misty gaze, something inside her felt ready to break through the soil.
But Yun Chun didn’t seize on it just yet. She was thinking about something else: in this world, besides Yueqin, there was Lu Qingxue who wouldn’t find her annoying.
Neither of them spoke.
Yun Chun finished her second breakfast in this deceptively quiet atmosphere.
Deceptively quiet? Because beneath the calm surface, her heartbeat pounded like a full drum corps, playing a chaotic rhythm just for her.
A tuneless melody, like a bird’s chirping—only others who understood its meaning could make sense of it.
Yun Chun clearly wasn’t one of them. She had no idea why her heart was racing like this.
She chalked it up to the soy milk and coffee not mixing well, or maybe running home too fast and then chugging coffee—too stimulating.
She blamed it on physical effects.
After tidying the dishes in the kitchen, Yun Chun came out to find her heartbeat back to normal.
Lu Qingxue sat on the sofa, reading a book.
She wore a white dress that accentuated her graceful figure.
Yun Chun’s gaze swept over her quickly before she walked straight to the portrait without looking away. She lit three sticks of incense.
She told Lu Qingxue she was going to take a shower, and after washing up and changing clothes, she returned to the living room.
As she sat on the sofa, Lu Qingxue broke off a segment of peeled orange and held it to Yun Chun’s lips.
Yun Chun opened her mouth on instinct.
Early autumn oranges weren’t the best, but they beat summer’s sour ones by miles—tart with a subtle sweetness.
Juice burst in her mouth.
Yun Chun swallowed it, and the next segment followed right away.
This time, she didn’t open her mouth. Instead, she reached out to take it. “Sister Qingxue, I can feed myself.”
Her fingers were about to brush the orange when Lu Qingxue lifted her hand slightly, dodging them.
Yun Chun looked at her, and Lu Qingxue said, “Keep drying your hair.”
She smiled faintly. “I’ll feed you.”
Yun Chun still had a shower cap on her head.
She’d been about to say she didn’t need to towel it—the cap absorbed the water, and she’d just blow-dry it later—but before she could, the orange segment was back at her lips.
Lu Qingxue said, “Open up.”
Yun Chun hesitated inwardly, but under that gaze, her lips parted.
Seeing this, Lu Qingxue’s lips curved upward in a graceful arc, like butterfly wings shimmering in the light.
Two words echoed in Yun Chun’s mind: So beautiful.
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but she and Lu Qingxue weren’t lovers. Yun Chun had never seen Xi Shi either, so why did Lu Qingxue look so stunning in her eyes?
Because Lu Qingxue was beautiful in her own right.
No lover’s filter required.
And right now, this beautiful woman was feeding her oranges.
Unsurprisingly, Yun Chun was so entranced that she forgot to guard her open mouth. She not only bit the orange but caught the tip of Lu Qingxue’s finger too.
For the first second, Yun Chun didn’t register it. Only when she saw Lu Qingxue’s cool brows arch slightly, her eyes brimming with gentle amusement as she looked at her, did Yun Chun realize the soft, cool sensation between her teeth wasn’t right.
Lu Qingxue’s fingertip was softer than the orange flesh, and cooler.
Yun Chun released it in a panic, leaning back.
Lu Qingxue’s finger hovered there before her eyes. Slender as spring onions, the tip glistened with moisture—impossible to tell if it was orange juice from the bite or saliva from Yun Chun’s mouth. In the light, it sparkled.
Yun Chun leaned forward, pulling a tissue from the box on the coffee table to wipe Lu Qingxue’s hand. But the wetness vanished in an instant.
She fell silent.
She’d forgotten Lu Qingxue was different, but she hadn’t expected an auto-dry feature.
What Yun Chun didn’t know was that if Lu Qingxue wanted, neither orange juice nor saliva would stick to her fingers.
Noticing the faint blush on Yun Chun’s cheeks, Lu Qingxue chuckled softly. So easy to embarrass?
Yun Chun heard the laugh and assumed Lu Qingxue was mocking her for biting her finger—fair enough, it was mortifying.
She blinked. “You still dare to feed me oranges?”
Lu Qingxue was peeling another segment, not turning to look at Yun Chun—her eyes fixed on the fruit, lashes fluttering. “Hm?”
Yun Chun pressed, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll bite your hand again?”
Another soft laugh. Lu Qingxue held the segment to Yun Chun’s lips, her curved eyes twinkling with warmth. “Afraid of what? It’s not the first time you’ve bitten me.”
“…”
A flush of embarrassment warmed her already red cheeks.
It really wasn’t the first time. Back in her dreams, she’d nibbled on Lu Qingxue’s fingers countless times.
But that was different.
Although both involved biting a finger at their core, in the dream it had been flirtation, whereas now it was just an accident with the orange.
The two simply could not be equated.
Unless…
Unless one of them chose to equate them.
~~~
After finishing the orange, Yun Chun went to blow-dry her hair. The phone on the table lit up, and Lu Qingxue glanced over without thinking. When Yun Chun returned with her hair dried, Lu Qingxue said to her, “Sister Xing is looking for you.”
Sister Xing?
Yun Chun picked up her phone while glancing at Lu Qingxue. “Why are you calling her Sister Xing too?” She had Qin Xing saved under her full name, and even when she saw messages from her, Yun Chun usually just used her name. Besides, Qin Xing was supposed to be younger than Lu Qingxue.
She wasn’t about to say something like “your Sister Xing” again, was she?
Evidently, Lu Qingxue wasn’t quite as childish as Yun Chun had feared. Lu Qingxue merely smiled. “That’s what you call her.”
Yun Chun’s eyelid twitched.
Before she could pinpoint that fleeting oddity, she looked down at the message from Qin Xing.
After sending a reply, Yun Chun glanced at the figure on the sofa. “Sister Xing says there’s a company partnership to discuss. She wants me to head over.”
Lu Qingxue hummed in acknowledgment.
Yun Chun continued, “I don’t know how long it’ll take. I might not make it back for lunch. Then I’ll stick around the company a bit before heading straight to the shop in the afternoon.”
“…”
Yun Chun had been replying to someone else’s messages with her head down. After sending a couple, she heard no response from Lu Qingxue and instinctively looked toward the sofa.
Lu Qingxue was staring straight at her, a radiant smile lighting up her face.
The beauty of that smile made Yun Chun’s breath catch. She shifted her gaze slightly, coughed lightly in discomfort, steadied her breathing, and only then turned back to meet Lu Qingxue’s eyes.
Lu Qingxue was still smiling, but her eyes had narrowed. Yun Chun frowned faintly, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
Why was she looking at her like that?
Had she said something amusing? No—she had only gone over her plans for the day…
At the same time, Lu Qingxue smiled and asked, “Little Darling, are you reporting your schedule to me?”
The question left Yun Chun momentarily dazed.
Was she reporting her schedule?
This had never happened before. Over the months they’d spent together, Yun Chun had grown accustomed to her solitary ways, handling everything on her own without sharing much with Lu Qingxue.
But now, here she was, laying out her itinerary for Lu Qingxue.
Letting her know every step of her day, tracking her movements. That way, Lu Qingxue wouldn’t have to wait in the unknown, wouldn’t sit alone in the dark for her return.
And yet, this was uncharted territory—the first time she had ever done this. So why had the words come so easily?
Was it because she had arrived home five hours late, only to find the door opened from within? Or because a hot cup of coffee and a sandwich had been waiting on the table?
No.
It was because of Lu Qingxue.
Because Yun Chun felt guilty toward her.
Lu Qingxue had stayed up into the late hours waiting for her, while Yun Chun had drifted off to sleep early, leaving her to face the dawn alone.
A bittersweet ache bloomed in Yun Chun’s chest. She let out a soft “mm.”
Ignoring the unanswered messages for the moment, she set down her phone and looked at Lu Qingxue. “I’m telling you my plans for today, so you…”
“You don’t have to wait for me.”
