Chapter 40 Part 2

Qin Xing spoke to the driver in fluent English. “Yun Chun and I will ride in the same car.”

But the driver shook his head. “Miss Yun’s accommodations have been arranged elsewhere, not at the hotel.”

Qin Xing asked, “Where?”

The driver replied, “At Director Lu’s home.”

Yun Chun’s grip tightened on her luggage the moment “Director Lu” left his lips.

Lu Qingxue’s home?

Just then, Mo Yue walked past them from behind. As she passed Qin Xing, she said coolly, “Let her go. You’re riding with me.”

Qin Xing didn’t budge. Her eyes stayed fixed on Yun Chun, unable to relax.

Yun Chun smiled at her. “Sister Xing, I can manage on my own. You…”

She glanced at Mo Yue, who had already boarded her car, and whispered, “Take care.”

On the flight over, Qin Xing had given Yun Chun a brief rundown of her story.

In simple terms: Qin Xing was an orphan who had grown up in an orphanage. At six or seven years old, she had been adopted by the Mo family and renamed Mo Xing, becoming Mo Yue’s little sister. As for why she had left the Mo family and changed her surname to Qin, Qin Xing hadn’t explained that part.

Even just the early bits had Yun Chun imagining a full-blown saga of family intrigue among the elite.

She had never before considered that Qin Xing could be so easily manipulated—but in front of Mo Yue, that notion seemed almost laughably insignificant.

Mo Yue had Qin Xing firmly in her grasp, without even trying.

Now, with Mo Yue calling Qin Xing to her car… Yun Chun mentally lit three sticks of incense for her.

Qin Xing lowered her gaze. “Call me if anything comes up.”

With that, she took a couple of steps forward, pausing between the first and second cars before boarding the first one.

Once inside, Qin Xing asked Mo Yue, “Did you arrange for her to stay at Lu Qingxue’s place?”

Mo Yue smiled. “Director Lu made the arrangements herself.”

Qin Xing frowned. “What are you talking about?”

How could she, when she was dead?

Mo Yue’s lips curved, but she said nothing. She glanced out the window at Yun Chun instead, her thoughts drifting back to Fashion Week, right before Lu Qingxue’s death. Lu Qingxue had said something back then.

They had been drinking on the balcony. Lu Qingxue leaned over the railing with her wineglass in hand. “Autumn’s here.”

With a sigh, she had turned back to Mo Yue. “Next year, I’m inviting Little One to Milan. Don’t you dare accuse me of putting romance over friendship—I’ve given you a full year’s heads-up.”

Mo Yue, lounging in her chair, chuckled softly. “What can I say? It’s not the first time. She’s with the Yi family company, and you still partnered with them for her sake, didn’t you?”

Lu Qingxue turned fully, the sunset painting the sky orange-red behind her. She stood there like a living oil painting.

The wind tousled her silky hair.

She smiled tenderly. “It was for her.”

She took a sip of red wine, tilting her head back. “But didn’t I compensate you with shares? You’re making Yi family money, so don’t pin that label on me.”

She swirled her glass and looked up at Mo Yue. “When I invite Little One to stay at my place, do you think she’ll agree?”

Mo Yue teased, “Wanting the first-mover advantage?”

Lu Qingxue’s seductive lips curved into a smile, her willow-leaf eyes crinkling. “I just want to brew her a cup of coffee on a morning when she wakes up sleepy-eyed.”

Steam rising from the coffee, sleep still lingering in Yun Chun’s eyes.

It was the kind of scene that promised a nearly perfect morning.

Mo Yue didn’t get it at all. Was this what a crush felt like? So pure?

She truly didn’t understand pure love—after all, the kid in her own family had climbed into her bed the moment she turned eighteen.

Mo Yue raised her glass in a distant toast to Lu Qingxue. “Here’s to her liking the coffee.”

~~~

Once in the car, Yun Chun asked the driver just one question.

“Has Director Lu… always lived in Milan?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Yun Chun murmured an acknowledgment and fell silent. She turned her head to watch the scenery sliding past outside the window.

This place… was where Lu Qingxue had lived for so many years.

And she was on her way to the home where Lu Qingxue had spent those years.

Someone pinched her ear. Yun Chun turned to find Lu Qingxue seated beside her, dressed in a skirt patterned with roses. Her straight black hair had become voluminous waves, each curl soft like a gentle cloud, the ends flipping up in a sexy, playful curl that brimmed with allure.

Delight lit Yun Chun’s eyes—she clearly hadn’t expected Lu Qingxue to appear so suddenly.

Lu Qingxue saw right through her thoughts and smiled. “Weren’t you just thinking about me?”

“I—”

Yun Chun got out one word before remembering the driver was up front. She hastily pulled out her phone and held it to her ear. Before she could speak, Lu Qingxue pressed a hand to her wrist. “Don’t pretend you’re on a call.”

Her intentions had been seen through again.

Yun Chun blinked: Why?

“Cris is my driver. He understands some Chinese.”

Fine, then.

Yun Chun opened her phone’s notes app and typed: [I’m heading to your house right now!]

“Yes, I know.”

Yun Chun: [It’s this indescribable feeling!]

Lu Qingxue’s hand rested on Yun Chun’s leg—no particular intent, just casually draped there.

When she was with Yun Chun, Lu Qingxue always wanted to touch her.

Pinching the soft flesh on the inside of Yun Chun’s arm, fiddling with her fingers, ruffling the fuzzy hair at the back of her head…

It was like skin hunger—she craved contact with Yun Chun every time they were close.

Touching Yun Chun always made Lu Qingxue feel truly alive… a comforting sensation.

Yun Chun seemed accustomed to Lu Qingxue’s occasional touches by now, and she didn’t feel awkward with the hand on her leg.

Lu Qingxue curled her fingers and murmured softly to Yun Chun, “Feel free to describe it a bit.”

Describe it properly?

Yun Chun paused, glancing at the view outside before typing again.

Yun Chun: [A little excited!]

Yun Chun: [I wonder what your house is like?]

Lu Qingxue pinched a spot just above Yun Chun’s knee—nothing but bone, no give to it at all. She slid her hand up a bit until she found some soft flesh and chuckled lightly. “Lost it all?”

Yun Chun showed no reaction to the touch. She cradled her phone, pondering her response earnestly.

Yun Chun: [Yeah…]

Yun Chun: [I’ve been wondering… if I’ll find traces of your life there.]

Lu Qingxue replied, “The house has been empty for two years, though it’s cleaned regularly. But no one would dare touch my things. Everything’s arranged just as I left it—you might catch glimpses of me in any object there.”

Yun Chun’s eyes flickered.

Her slender fingertips danced across the keyboard in the light.

Yun Chun: [If I live in the place you lived, walk the stairs you walked, sleep in the bed you slept in… does that mean we’re…]

“What?”

Yun Chun: [Living together across time?]

A soft laugh came from beside her ear. “Silly.”

There was real warmth in the laughter.

It seemed Yun Chun’s question had touched and charmed her.

Yun Chun looked at Lu Qingxue, puzzled why she’d called her silly.

Was her question that foolish?

Lu Qingxue lifted her hand from Yun Chun’s leg and slowly hooked it around her arm instead. “Aren’t we living together right now? Why across time?”

Because…

Because you were alive back then.

Yun Chun: [I’m not silly.]

Yun Chun: [I just want to imagine what your everyday life was like when you were alive.]

Yun Chun: [If…]

The car turned onto a road lined with trees on both sides.

Dappled light played across Yun Chun’s face, brightening and dimming.

Her fingertips hesitated, and she deleted the word [If].

She could daydream about hopeful “ifs,” but this dark one was better left unsaid.

It wouldn’t change anything—just make her sad.

She deleted the word.

Lu Qingxue’s voice was faint. “Life was so boring.”

Hm?

“Day after day, all the same. Only designing clothes made me feel like things weren’t stagnant.

A new idea sparks, and I sketch a line on paper—thick or thin, jagged folds or straight, maybe curved…

Once it’s drawn, I pick colors, fabrics, how to cut it…

When the garment’s finished, I choose the price, the right model to wear it.”

Lu Qingxue’s eyes mirrored the blue sky outside. “Every step in making a piece of clothing offers endless choices, and each one feels like breathing life into it.”

Her voice was so soft that Yun Chun held her breath, afraid a single exhale might scatter those cloudlike words.

This felt like the first time Lu Qingxue had truly opened up to her.

Yes—talking heart-to-heart.

This had never happened before.

Lu Qingxue seemed to be leading her into her old life, inviting her to understand it and explore it.

No longer was it like Lu Qingxue had said earlier—that she would only share her past once Yun Chun figured out why she wanted to know her so well.

Why the change?

It might have been Yun Chun’s offhand remark about their strange cross-time cohabitation that had stirred ripples across the serene surface of Lu Qingxue’s heart.

“So designing clothes makes me so happy. It breathes life into my dull, monotonous days. I love it. Every time I create a new piece, I give it a name that’s uniquely its own…”

Lu Qingxue asked Yun Chun, “Does it seem strange to you?”

Yun Chun: [No.]

Yun Chun: [They’re the products of your heart and soul.]

The corners of Lu Qingxue’s mouth curved up.

“Later…”

Lu Qingxue paused.

Yun Chun: [What happened later?]

“Then I met you. When I learned you’d become a model, another spark of life entered my world.”

Yun Chun: [Me?]

“Yes.” Lu Qingxue leaned her head on Yun Chun’s shoulder. “Because you gave me something to look forward to.”

Look forward to what?

Before Yun Chun could finish typing her words, Lu Qingxue spoke up from her perch on her shoulder. “Looking forward to the day you’ll wear the clothes I designed and step onto the grandest stage in your heart, showing them off.”

Lu Qingxue smiled. “I hope I get to see it that day.”

Yun Chun’s hand trembled for no reason she could name. [I’ve already done it.]

Lu Qingxue: “Hm? Which show?”

Yun Chun: [The best stage in my heart was the runway from my very first fashion show.]

The venue hadn’t been large, and the stage had been small. But the moment she first stepped onto it, that show had been etched deeply into Yun Chun’s heart.

An unforgettable origin.

An emotion she could never let go.

Yun Chun: [And that day, I was wearing clothes you’d designed.]

Yun Chun: [I can still remember how that outfit felt.]

Yun Chun: [Soft and downy, just like right now—you resting on my shoulder, your hair brushing my cheek.]