The next day, Shang Can emerged from her room into the bright daylight.
Wan Shao, who had woken up early after a restful sleep, was sitting idly in the courtyard. When she saw Shang Can push open the door, her eyes lit up mischievously. “Oh, you’re finally awake! How was your sleep last night?” she teased.
To her surprise, Shang Can looked more put together than she had expected. She had changed out of the clothes she had worn last night, and her usually untidy hair, which she often left draped over her shoulders, had been neatly combed. It was hard to believe this was someone who had been drunk the night before. Probably thanks to Yun Zhongjun taking good care of her, Wan Shao thought.
A sudden flash of insight crossed Wan Shao’s mind, and everything became clear. She looked at Shang Can with a playful glint in her eyes as she slowly walked over. Today, Shang Can was dressed in white, her waist and torso wrapped tightly in the fabric, accentuating her tall and slender figure, making her appear even more elegant, like a bamboo stalk. From behind, she even looked a little like Yun Duan.
This seems like a good sign, Wan Shao mused. After all, Shang Can had always avoided wearing white—most likely because Yun Zhongjun favored the color. Now that she had chosen it on her own, it seemed she had come to some realization.
Wan Shao’s spirits lifted, and she eagerly pulled Shang Can by the sleeve to sit beside her. Shang Can quietly drank a few cups of tea before slowly replying, “Thanks to you, I didn’t sleep very well.”
…There was something in those words that seemed to carry a hidden meaning.
Wan Shao felt a jolt of unease. Could it be that Shang Can wasn’t completely drunk last night? But before she could dwell on it, Shang Can sighed and said, “That cheap wine you gave me—my head was aching in my dreams all night. I had nightmares.”
Wan Shao breathed a sigh of relief. So it was just about the wine. She shot back angrily, “Don’t be so picky! I’m your healer, and you’re lucky I even let you drink! Complain more, and I’ll report you to Yun Zhongjun!”
She felt a little guilty as she said that last part, knowing that threatening someone over something already exposed wasn’t very convincing. To test the waters, she coughed and added, “Speaking of Yun Zhongjun—she’s busy cooking right now. Do you think she noticed anything… unusual last night?”
Shang Can’s expression remained neutral as she replied leisurely, “How would I know? I couldn’t see. I was busy drinking, after all.”
Wan Shao gritted her teeth at Shang Can’s unapologetic tone and leaned in, lowering her voice. “Can’t see, can’t see… Are your eyes ever going to recover? Why is it taking so long this time? When will they be better?”
There was a note of concern in Wan Shao’s voice. Even though she had been treating Shang Can’s illnesses for years, she had no clue how to cure this strange ailment and could only wait for Shang Can to recover on her own. She had already braced herself for Shang Can’s usual snappy “How would I know?” but instead, Shang Can was silent for a moment. She set down her teacup and stood up.
“Probably soon,” Shang Can said softly. “Maybe today.”
Wan Shao was taken aback but overjoyed, rubbing her hands together. “That’s great! Once your eyes are better, we’ll have to celebrate properly. Or if you’d prefer some alone time with Yun Zhongjun, I wouldn’t mind stepping aside.”
Her tone was teasing, and normally Shang Can would have fired back with a sarcastic retort, but today, Shang Can only smiled gently. “Sure, but let’s celebrate together. I want to go to the most expensive restaurant in town. You can treat us, can’t you, Lady Yao Master?”
What a shameless request! But Wan Shao, in her good mood, decided to let it slide. She waved her hand grandly. “Fine, fine, I’ll treat you. You seem more enlightened today—though, if you ask me, Yun Zhongjun’s cooking is better than any restaurant. You don’t know how good you’ve got it, always wanting more…”
Her words rambled off-topic, but Shang Can didn’t mind. She stood there patiently, listening until Wan Shao finished, then nodded with a quiet “…Thank you.”
The words seemed out of place, and Wan Shao was confused for a moment before realizing that Shang Can was probably thanking her in advance for the meal. Feeling magnanimous, she huffed, “Well, aren’t you polite after a drink! I don’t usually see you so courteous.”
Shang Can didn’t respond, just smiled again and pointed towards the kitchen. “I’ll go check on things over there.”
Wan Shao grinned widely and nodded, as if she understood exactly what Shang Can was really saying. “Yes, yes, go on! Yun Zhongjun has been working hard; go keep her company.”
All morning, her playful teasing had met with no resistance from Shang Can, who seemed inexplicably calm. Wan Shao watched her friend’s retreating figure and couldn’t quite understand what had changed in her heart.
Yun Duan, meanwhile, was in the kitchen, lost in thought.
Though she had told Wan Shao she was preparing a meal, it was more of an excuse to be alone. Yun Duan found it hard to focus on cooking, her mind weighed down by a swirl of negative emotions.
When she had bumped into Wan Shao earlier, her pale face had startled her friend, who had even asked, concerned, if she was feeling unwell. Yun Duan had firmly denied it, but inside, she thought bitterly that she was indeed sick—only no healer, no matter how skilled, could cure her.
The cure for her heartache was resting peacefully in the next room, and yet she couldn’t be saved.
Suddenly, there was a noise at the door, snapping Yun Duan out of her thoughts. She quickly composed herself before turning around, expecting to see Wan Shao coming to help. But standing there, like a dream brought to life, was the very person who had been occupying her mind.
Today, she was dressed in white, just like she had back in Qingyu. Yun Duan knew she was beautiful—now, with her eyes covered, she looked even more serene, as refined as jade, like a perfect sculpture. Just the sight of her standing there was enough to stir the heart, like sunlight and moonlight flooding into one’s chest.
For a moment, Yun Duan was dazed, only snapping back to reality when she hastily asked, “Ah Can? Why… why are you here?”
“I just wanted to see you,” Shang Can replied gently. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Yun Duan quickly answered, afraid of being misunderstood. She unconsciously took two steps closer to Shang Can before frowning slightly. “Did you come by yourself? Did you bump into anything on the way?”
“How could I?”
Shang Can smiled, amused by Yun Duan’s overprotectiveness. “I’ve been here for over twenty days. I know the layout by heart now. Even without my sight, I’m not about to trip on my way from the courtyard to the kitchen.”
Yun Duan chuckled awkwardly, even though she knew Shang Can was a highly skilled cultivator. She couldn’t shake her habit of worrying about her.
This habit had been with her for so long, it was unlikely she’d ever be able to change it.
“Are you cooking?”
Shang Can’s voice interrupted Yun Duan’s thoughts, making her feel a bit guilty for having only managed to make one dish after so much time. Embarrassed, she murmured a quiet acknowledgment. Shang Can nodded knowingly but stayed silent for a while before changing the subject directly, “Did you… come to my room last night?”
Yun Duan’s mind went blank with a sudden buzzing sound, her breath becoming shallow. The fear of her secret being discovered rushed through her, paralyzing her.
Fortunately, Shang Can seemed to notice her distress and quickly explained, “When I woke up this morning, I saw I had a blanket over me. I figured it wasn’t Wan Shao’s doing, so I thought I’d ask you…”
Her anxious thoughts finally calmed down. Yun Duan steadied her heartbeat, trying to act normal as she answered, “…Yes, I went to cover you with it.”
“……”
Shang Can seemed to hold her breath for a moment before speaking in a soft voice, “It was my fault.”
Even though Yun Duan knew she was apologizing for secretly drinking last night, her heart still ached. She watched as Shang Can, looking guilty, lowered her head and pressed her lips together nervously when Yun Duan didn’t immediately respond. Yet, she found herself at a loss for words.
Brushing it off lightly would be easy enough. It was just about drinking after all, and even Wan Shao, who was responsible for Shang Can’s health, hadn’t said anything against it. Yun Duan had no reason to oppose it. But there was something about Shang Can’s apology that felt deeper, as if it was tied to something more. Yun Duan couldn’t discern the full meaning behind her vague words, and her throat felt tight, as though she couldn’t speak.
In the heavy silence, Shang Can made the first move. Blindfolded, she slowly stepped closer to Yun Duan, tentatively reaching out. Her fingers brushed against Yun Duan’s waist, causing Yun Duan’s breath to hitch.
“It’s my fault,” Shang Can repeated, her voice soft and patient, and then, gently, she added, “Can I hold you? I’m sorry.”
The request was so sudden, disjointed even, that Yun Duan instinctively tensed. But she couldn’t bring herself to say no. In the next moment, she was carefully, bit by bit, drawn into Shang Can’s arms.
Her mind still a blur, Yun Duan couldn’t make sense of why she was receiving a hug, but her body and heart surrendered quickly. Shang Can’s warmth and scent enveloped her, and even though Yun Duan felt stiff as a board, her hands found their way to Shang Can’s clothes, clutching them tightly as she melted into the unexpected embrace.
“…I’m sorry.”
The person buried their head intimately in her neck, their soft breaths brushing faintly against Yun Duan’s skin, sending a shiver through her. She guessed her ears must be completely red by now and was suddenly glad that Shang Can couldn’t see it—though she felt a slight regret about that as well.
Shang Can seemed to take Yun Duan’s silence as a sign that she hadn’t forgiven her yet. Apologizing repeatedly in a small, guilty voice next to her ear, Shang Can’s head kept nuzzling gently. Soon, Yun Duan began to feel an indescribable ticklish sensation wherever Shang Can touched her. She raised her hand to rest on Shang Can’s shoulder, thinking she should push her away, but somehow her hand lacked the strength to do so.
This is nothing more than a vain indulgence, Yun Duan thought to herself. She was perfectly aware that this was simply Shang Can’s way of expressing her apology—clean, without a trace of desire. Only Yun Duan harbored these unspoken thoughts, secretly wishing that maybe, just maybe, if she stayed silent a bit longer, the embrace might last a little longer.
She knew it was pointless. But still, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy.
A wave of bitterness surged in her heart, and Yun Duan finally forced herself to speak before she started crying again. Steadying her voice as much as she could, she said softly, “…It’s okay, I’m not mad at you.”
“Mm.” Shang Can replied but still mumbled, once again, “…I’m sorry.”
This time, why was she apologizing? Was it because she felt guilty for knowing Yun Duan would let her indulge to the fullest? Shang Can was the kind of person who overthinks. If only she could see her eyes right now.
Suppressing her stray thoughts and the bitterness in her heart, Yun Duan lightly patted Shang Can’s back, her voice trembling slightly. “I need to cook. Do you still want to keep hugging?”
“…”
Shang Can stayed silent for a while after hearing the words Yun Duan had said with all her rationality. Then, out of nowhere, she spoke, “I had a dream last night.”
Yun Duan’s heart skipped a beat, hearing Shang Can’s voice low, and it was hard to discern what emotion it carried.
“I dreamed… that it rained inside the room. When I woke up, I just really wanted to hug you.”
Yun Duan was speechless. She instinctively tightened her arms around Shang Can’s back, like grasping the last lifeline in her life. If there was a spell to stop time, Yun Duan thought, she wouldn’t mind if it froze this moment forever.
Then, when the drizzling rain stopped, she and Shang Can would never be apart again.
Wan Shao didn’t see Yun Duan and Shang Can again until the sun had grown harsh and high in the sky. Yun Duan remained silent, setting the dishes on the table with a downcast expression. Wan Shao, diligently helping out, noticed Shang Can sitting quietly on the side, lost in thought.
What’s going on? Wan Shao wondered. She’s been alone with Yun Zhongjun for so long, but why does she look like she’s in an even worse mood?
Though “bad mood” wasn’t exactly the right term—it was more like Shang Can had become serious. Despite most of her face being covered by a white cloth, Wan Shao, who had known her for years, could tell from her tightly pressed lips and the small, unconscious tapping of her fingers on the table that something was off with Shang Can.
This tense atmosphere lasted throughout the entire meal. The only sounds at the table were the clinks of bowls and chopsticks. Wan Shao didn’t dare to breathe too loudly. She glanced over at Yun Duan, who seemed equally distracted, mechanically chewing her food without swallowing, clearly lost in thought.
As the only one who had no idea what had happened in the kitchen earlier, Wan Shao was utterly confused. She barely managed to finish the meal, and when it was over, she leaned in to Shang Can’s ear and whispered, “…Did you upset Yun Zhongjun?”
“…”
After a long silence, Shang Can responded, completely off-topic, “Are you feeling sleepy?”
Wan Shao blinked in confusion, but then she noticed something odd—Shang Can’s shoulders were tense, as if reflecting some deep unease.
And strangely, as if bewitched by her words, Wan Shao, who had slept perfectly well the night before, suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of drowsiness. She blinked hard, trying to clear her head, but the sleepiness only intensified, uncontrollable and powerful.
The exhaustion hit her fast, and before she could make sense of it, she let out a confused hum and slumped onto the table, falling into a deep sleep.
“…Wan Shao?”
A confused voice came from across the table. Yun Duan frowned, looking at the suddenly slumbering Wan Shao. She was about to stand and check on her when her legs unexpectedly gave way, forcing her to sit back down.
It slowly dawned on Yun Duan that something was wrong. Her first instinct was that an enemy had somehow poisoned them. Horrified, she looked toward Shang Can.
But Shang Can remained perfectly still. Her expression was calm, sitting upright.
Yun Duan’s mind went blank as she suddenly remembered Shang Can’s strange behavior that morning—coming into the kitchen unexpectedly, that out-of-nowhere embrace, and how Shang Can had whispered countless apologies, guilt dripping from her words like they were soaked in it. Even the arms that had circled her waist earlier had trembled slightly.
At the time, Yun Duan thought it was her own trembling. She had been too caught up in the embrace to notice what Shang Can had been doing behind her back—what she might have put into the food.
“…A-Can…”
Overwhelmed by an intensifying wave of sleep, Yun Duan felt panic rise in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Gritting her teeth, she tried to stand again, but her body quickly gave out, and she stumbled forward, bracing herself for the pain she expected when she hit the ground.
But instead, she fell into a familiar embrace—one that had been so warm and comforting not long ago, but now filled her with bitter despair.
Instinctively, Yun Duan reached toward the table, searching for something sharp to cut herself with and force herself awake. But before she could find anything, the person holding her gently caught her outstretched hand, pulling it back to rest against their chest.
No words were spoken. Yun Duan’s shoulders heaved, struggling to stay conscious as her mind fogged over. For the first time, she called her lover’s name with anguish, a mixture of confusion and desperate pleading: “A-Can…”
“…”
The person still said nothing.
As Yun Duan’s eyes finally closed, a hot tear slid down her cheek, which was carefully wiped away by the one holding her.
In her fading consciousness, Yun Duan thought she felt something cold and soft press lightly against her forehead—like a breeze—there for just a moment before it disappeared.
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