Chapter 12
After fleeing the elevator, Chi Lin chided herself for acting childish. Why was she so affected by a mere tease?
She disliked gossip, yet here she was, letting it get to her.
She went to a restaurant two blocks from the school for lunch. Mealtimes in this era were a challenge, not due to a lack of food, but an overwhelming abundance of choices.
Dining alone today, free from Liu Huixin’s preferences, she felt a sense of relief.
She found a bustling restaurant, packed with people chatting and eating at closely arranged tables, a variety of dishes spread before them.
Servers, actual humans, not AI, deftly navigated the crowded space, carrying plates piled high with food.
This place felt more… human.
Chi Lin opened the door, stepping into a wave of heat and noise.
It was an old-fashioned establishment, unlike the modern restaurants with their ordering systems at each table. Here, customers lined up to order, interacting with human staff.
The clientele was mostly older, seeking a nostalgic experience.
Chi Lin ordered noodles with extra char siu, an egg, and six pan-fried dumplings.
“Is that all?” the server, a young woman with a friendly smile and minimal makeup, asked. Chi Lin, already wavering, felt even more indecisive.
She glanced at the large, brightly lit menu hanging overhead. “And a bottle of beer, please.”
“I’m sorry,” the server said, gesturing at Chi Lin’s school uniform. “We don’t serve alcohol to minors. How about a cola?”
But I’m thirty-two… Chi Lin thought ruefully.
The original owner was still three months shy of eighteen. She had no choice but to forgo the beer and settle for cola.
When paying, she specifically asked about payment methods, wanting to avoid the earlier embarrassment at the pancake stall.
“Both facial recognition and QR code payments are accepted,” the server replied.
Chi Lin opted for facial recognition, the more convenient option. A notification popped up on her phone, the parental control system updating her remaining allowance.
Lunch cost 78 yuan. As she waited for her food, she received a voice message from her mother.
Her mother had been sending messages these past few days, asking about school, urging her to behave and listen to her sister.
Chi Lin hadn’t replied initially, but her mother persisted, seemingly accustomed to being ignored.
Chi Lin felt a pang of guilt.
She had learned how to use WeChat from the system and decided to reply.
Upon receiving Chi Lin’s first message, her mother sent back a crying emoji.
“You finally replied… I’m so touched! I never thought I’d receive a message from you.”
A parent’s love knows no bounds. The parents of this era seemed remarkably… humble.
Her mother sent another message, asking why she had spent so little on lunch.
So the parental control system allowed parents to track their children’s spending, even from afar.
“Lunch is important! You need to eat well. Only 78 yuan… Where did you eat? I haven’t seen you spend much these past few days. Don’t eat at unsanitary places. What if you get sick?”
Baby…
Chi Lin cringed internally.
The mothers of this era were not only humble but also excessively affectionate.
She couldn’t type efficiently yet, but she could send a voice message.
“Don’t worry, Mother. I found a wonderful, affordable restaurant. It’s very popular, so it must be good.”
She sent the message.
WeChat was a remarkable tool. Chi Lin wanted to understand its workings. This technology would be invaluable for transmitting messages discreetly and efficiently back in Dayuan.
Peng Ziyuan, on her way to a meeting, heard her daughter’s voice message and froze.
Mother? What was this strange formality?
And affordable? Her daughter, who only frequented expensive restaurants, who once declared, “You just like Lou Lixing’s money! It’ll take him forever to spend it all. I’m just helping him out,” and regularly spent two thousand yuan on a single meal, was now concerned about affordability?
When had her daughter’s lunch ever cost less than a hundred yuan?
Coupled with Lou Mi’s earlier message, Peng Ziyuan burst into tears.
Her daughter had finally matured, finally understood the value of money.
Touched, she transferred another ten thousand yuan to Chi Lin’s account.
“Xiao Lin, I’m sorry I can’t be there for you this month. Don’t blame me. When I get back, we’ll go shopping and do something fun. I promise.”
As a high-ranking official and the Empress’s consort, Chi Lin had always been frugal, often eating a simple bowl of porridge with a single side dish.
If not for her exile, she would have continued this practice.
The noodles and dumplings she had just ordered were already an indulgence. And now her mother was complaining she hadn’t spent enough…
As Chi Lin pondered the concept of “a loving mother often spoils her child,” her food arrived.
Thick slices of char siu, glistening with fat, lay atop a steaming bowl of noodles in rich broth.
The dumplings were golden brown and crispy, the savory filling bursting with flavor. Despite burning her tongue, she savored each bite.
She scooped up some noodles and broth, the warmth spreading through her, a comforting sensation.
The egg, cooked to perfection with a runny yolk, added a touch of sweetness.
The culinary techniques and flavors of this era were a revelation. She enjoyed her meal, setting aside her worries and focusing on the delicious food.
Satisfied, she returned to school. Though the geography lesson was incomprehensible, she diligently took notes, planning to study them later.
After school, she remembered to pick up the package from security.
The security guard, initially not recognizing her, did a double take. Wasn’t this the daughter from the Lou household?
She usually had that bright red, spiky hair. The change in hairstyle was transformative.
“You’re finally here,” he said, calling for assistance.
They carried out the package. It was a large mattress and the hair products Chi Lin had ordered.
The Changjun Gardens community had strict security. All visitors had to register and be cleared by the resident before being escorted to their doorstep. The same applied to deliveries.
Packages were held at the security office until the resident was home.
Lou Mi’s mattress was so large it took two guards to carry it and occupied a third of the storage space.
Chi Lin, seeing the massive package, assumed it was a bed.
The label, however, identified it as a mattress.
It looked incredibly comfortable. Lou Mi clearly valued comfort.
Lou Mi’s bedroom door had been repaired and was now locked. The mattress had to stay in the living room.
Chi Lin could communicate with the system from her own room. She ordered “Spaghetti” for dinner and continued her conversation with the system, hoping to glean some clues about the Empress.
It was late.
At 1 am, Lou Mi returned, feeling lightheaded from low blood sugar. Her vision blurred as she exited the elevator.
She stumbled forward, colliding with something hard, and fell.
Expecting a painful landing, she instead landed on something soft and yielding.
As her vision cleared, she realized she had fallen onto her new mattress.
Great… I ask the brat to pick it up, and she leaves it right in front of the elevator. How am I supposed to avoid that?
After a long day of practice, hungry and exhausted, she wouldn’t have seen it coming. Even fully rested and alert, she might have tripped.
That little brat…
But the mattress was heavy. Chi Lin probably couldn’t move it on her own.
It was incredibly comfortable, even through the packaging. The support and cushioning were perfect.
Exhausted and with a pounding headache, Lou Mi decided to stay put…
Chi Lin, returning from the kitchen, noticed a figure lying in the darkened living room. It was Lou Mi.
Did she trip over the mattress?
Chi Lin felt a pang of guilt. She should have been more mindful of the elevator’s location.
She rushed over to check on Lou Mi, only to find her asleep.
She’s got nerves of steel.
Chi Lin chuckled, crouching beside her. Lou Mi’s hair was long and soft, and even from a distance, Chi Lin could smell its fragrance. Her long eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks.
In their previous encounters, Chi Lin hadn’t paid much attention to Lou Mi’s appearance, focused on avoiding conflict with the easily irritated young woman.
Now, seeing her asleep, she noticed her delicate features, even without makeup.
Beauty, in any form, commanded appreciation.
But as she gazed at Lou Mi, her eyes fell upon something… alarming.
Lou Mi’s sleeping position was precarious. Her neckline had slipped.
Chi Lin quickly stood up.
Look away, look away.
In Dayuan, as in this era, same-sex marriage was legal. Chi Lin, aware of her own preferences, respected boundaries, even with other women.
Lou Mi must be exhausted to fall asleep on the floor. Best not to disturb her…
Lou Mi slept soundly through the night. When she woke up, her chest ached.
She sat up, rubbing her chest, and looked around the living room in confusion.
I fell asleep here?
And the brat didn’t wake me?
Well, at least she hadn’t caused any trouble while she was asleep.
As she stood up, she noticed a blanket draped over her.
It was Chi Lin’s blanket, with the Nori the Demon Child logo.
It was before 6 am. Lou Mi, clutching the blanket, stood outside Chi Lin’s room and knocked softly. No response. She pushed the door open. It was unlocked.
Just as she suspected, Chi Lin only had one blanket, which she used year-round. Having given it away, she had no other blanket and had shivered through the night.
Though the house had climate control, the temperature fluctuated in autumn, and the nights were still cool.
Chi Lin was curled up in a ball at the edge of the bed, fast asleep.
Lou Mi never imagined she would ever cover Chi Lin with a blanket.
Chi Lin, seemingly a light sleeper, woke up as soon as the blanket touched her.
Lou Mi cursed internally. Being caught in someone’s bedroom at dawn was awkward.
She had prepared a series of denials, but they weren’t needed.
Chi Lin simply smiled faintly, seemingly not recognizing her, turned over, and went back to sleep.
…
She dreamt of the Empress.
The year she defended Youde with two hundred soldiers against the rebel army.
Many had chosen suicide over surrender.
Chi Lin had expected to die there, but the Empress arrived with reinforcements, pulling her from the pile of corpses.
“We will face life and death together, never to be parted.”
Those were the Empress’s first words to her.
The Empress’s eyes, her face, the bodies of her comrades, the pale sky… Chi Lin remembered every detail.
The vow echoed in her ears, but she woke up alone in a strange world, in a strange bed.
She sat up, looking at the light filtering through the curtains, the blinking lights of the smart home system, the phone on her nightstand.
She had everything here, except the Empress.
She chuckled softly and was about to get out of bed when she noticed the blanket tucked around her.
Had Lou Mi brought it?
She folded the blanket neatly and went outside to practice her exercises, starting her day.
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