Yan Zhao looked over the new house from inside out.
Although the layout was typical of a tube-shaped apartment building, it was much more spacious than the dormitory. The floor was clean, without a trace of mud or water.
What surprised her most was the small backyard. Several ropes were strung across the cement ground, clearly used for hanging clothes and drying quilts.
She stood in the yard, looking up for a while, and felt an inexplicable sense of peace.
While she was looking around, she ran into a few neighbors.
They were all older women, either carrying basins or holding groceries. As soon as they saw her unfamiliar face, their eyes fell on her.
One of them took the initiative to ask her questions.
Yan Zhao felt a little nervous but answered honestly.
When they heard she had just bought the house, their expressions immediately changed.
Another casually asked about her family situation. Yan Zhao didn’t want to share her personal affairs.
Yan Zhao didn’t want to talk about her family, but someone noticed Gu Yu—he was wearing a Peking University jacket, which someone recognized as what students there wore.
“Oh, Peking University! That’s impressive.”
“No wonder, he doesn’t look like an ordinary person.”
“Anyone studying at Peking University these days must be capable.”
These words fell one after another, warming Yan Zhao’s heart.
She lowered her head and smiled, unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes, feeling happy inside.
But then the conversation took a turn. One of the women glanced at her and suddenly asked, “So you’re his older sister, right?”
Yan Zhao was taken aback.
In the past, she might have casually agreed, but now the words stuck in her throat, unable to come out.
She instinctively wanted to say no.
Gu Yu’s recent attitude toward her flashed through her mind—the closeness, the protectiveness, the subtle favoritism—making her cheeks slowly grow warm.
She didn’t dare to dwell on it, let alone think too deeply.
Just as she was flustered and unsure how to respond, another woman chimed in with a smile, “She must be his older sister. Look how young her brother is.”
Yan Zhao fell silent.
The woman seemed to grow more enthusiastic, smiling as she continued, “Does your brother have a girlfriend? I have a daughter who’s also studying in Beijing, not far from Peking University. She’s very pretty—”
Before she could finish, a voice came from the yard entrance.
“Zhaozhao.”
The voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear.
Yan Zhao looked up abruptly.
Gu Yu had returned.
He was carrying several bags, with a bedding sack slung over his shoulder. He had clearly just come from the university, with a bit of sweat on his temples. His expression relaxed the moment he saw her.
His gaze naturally settled on her.
Yan Zhao’s heart skipped a beat, and she almost instinctively ran toward him.
“You’re back,” she said, standing in front of him. She instinctively reached out to take the things in his hands but hesitated, pausing mid-air.
Gu Yu handed her one of the lighter bags, his tone casual. “Help me carry this.”
Yan Zhao immediately took it, holding it in her arms as if she had finally found her place.
The women in the yard all turned to look.
Gu Yu’s eyes swept over their faces—briefly, but with a detachment that made them hesitant to say more.
He stood beside Yan Zhao, casually switching the remaining items to his other hand, subtly positioning himself in front of her as he moved.
“Moving in?” someone asked with a smile.
Gu Yu nodded, his tone calm. “Yes, hello. We just moved in today.”
The woman smiled and said, “We were just talking to your sister.”
Gu Yu glanced sideways at Yan Zhao.
The glance was brief, yet it made Yan Zhao’s heart tighten abruptly.
The next moment, he spoke.
“She’s not my sister.”
His voice was not loud, but it was clear.
The courtyard fell silent at once.
Yan Zhao’s breath caught, and she instinctively looked up at him.
Gu Yu had already withdrawn his gaze, adding only lightly, “She’s my wife.” After saying this, he lowered his head and said to her, “Zhaozhao, let’s go. We need to put the things away.”
Yan Zhao felt as if she had been rooted to the spot by his words, her face flushing hotly, her ears burning.
She replied with a soft “Mm,” her voice almost inaudible, still clutching the bag in her arms tightly as she followed him into the house.
The gazes behind them—surprised, understanding, meaningful—were all shut outside the door.
Yan Zhao placed the bag against the wall inside the room. As she straightened up, she sensed something was off.
Gu Yu’s face still wore that gentle expression, the corners of his mouth even carrying a faint, elusive smile, yet his entire demeanor had noticeably cooled.
It wasn’t the kind of coldness that came from being angry with her, but more like his emotions were suppressed, not released outwardly.
Yan Zhao’s heart gave a slight jolt.
She instinctively recalled the conversation in the courtyard earlier.
Could it be that the people outside thought she was his sister?
Did he think she had said something?
She opened her mouth, wanting to explain something, but quickly stopped herself.
What if she was overthinking it?
If he hadn’t cared at all, and she brought it up first, it would only make her seem self-absorbed.
Yan Zhao hesitated for a few seconds but ultimately said nothing, silently turning around to start tidying up.
But just as she opened one cloth bag, Gu Yu had already unpacked the other two bags.
His movements were quick and efficient.
Clothes were folded one by one, sorted by shade, and placed directly into the wardrobe.
Books and documents were neatly stacked in the corner of the table.
Toiletries were casually placed on the basin rack, positioned just right.
Throughout the entire process, there was almost no opportunity for her to intervene.
Yan Zhao stood to the side, still clutching the cloth bag she hadn’t had time to put down, suddenly feeling a bit at a loss.
She wanted to help, but now she realized there was nothing left for her to do.
Gu Yu hung up the last jacket before seeming to suddenly remember she was still standing there. He glanced over at her.
“What’s wrong?” His tone remained gentle.
Yan Zhao was momentarily taken aback by his question and quickly shook her head.
She pursed her lips and finally couldn’t hold back, cautiously saying, “Earlier, outside… what they said, don’t take it to heart.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt nervous, her eyes unconsciously drifting elsewhere.
The room fell silent for two seconds.
Gu Yu paused in his movements.
Then he walked over to her, reached out to move the bag beside her aside, making a little space, before speaking softly, “What did they say?”
Yan Zhao’s lips moved, but she found herself unable to form a complete sentence.
She had never been good at explaining such things, especially when it came to emotions she hadn’t even fully sorted out herself.
She lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible: “It’s… what those people outside said.”
Gu Yu looked down at her, his expression softening slightly compared to before, though the faint anger in his eyes hadn’t completely faded.
He seemed to have understood, but didn’t respond immediately.
The room fell silent for a moment.
Then, without warning, he took a step forward.
The distance between them suddenly closed.
Before Yan Zhao could react, she heard him call out softly: “Sister.”
The moment those two words fell, Yan Zhao abruptly looked up.
Her eyes were filled with shock.
She almost instinctively looked at him, as if unable to believe what she had just heard.
But Gu Yu had already leaned down, close to her ear, his breath low and deliberate, and slowly called out again: “Sister.”
His voice was deliberately softened, carrying a hint of elusive amusement, yet it didn’t seem like a joke.
“What are you asking?” he whispered.
The moment this “Sister” fell, a long-forgotten scene flashed through Yan Zhao’s mind.
It was from their childhood.
Whenever someone asked about their relationship, Gu Yu would softly call her “sister.”
Later, his aunt found out.
His aunt frowned at the time, “She’s not your sister, she’s your wife.”
After being scolded, Gu Yu never called her “sister” again.
Until now.
This time, he whispered it right by her ear.
Low, slow, as if deliberate, yet also as if confirming something.
Yan Zhao’s ears instantly burned with heat, the warmth crawling up her neck, half her face flushed.
Her breath hitched, her heart pounding wildly and heavily, loud enough for her to hear.
She wanted to refute, to say it wasn’t true, but her throat felt blocked, only letting out a faint breath.
At this moment, Gu Yu was still very close, so close she could almost feel the vibration of his chest as he spoke.
She opened her mouth, but couldn’t utter a word, instinctively shrinking back a little, only for her back to quickly hit the corner of the table, leaving her with nowhere to retreat.
Gu Yu watched her reaction, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment, as if confirming something. The suppressed emotion in his eyes finally surfaced slowly, yet it didn’t show outwardly, instead appearing even calmer.
“Sister?”
He called softly, his tone low and flat, “Are you unhappy when I call you sister?”
Yan Zhao’s heart raced uncontrollably, her throat tight. It took her a while to find her voice, whispering in a flustered tone, “You… don’t call me that.”
Gu Yu looked at her for two seconds.
In those two seconds, he neither pressed closer nor stepped back, just quietly watching, as if weighing the significance of her words.
Then, he let out a soft laugh.
It wasn’t a gentle laugh, but more like a reaction tinged with confirmation.
“Then tell me,” he said slowly, his tone straightforward, “what should I call you?”
This question completely threw Yan Zhao off balance.
Her cheeks flushed intensely, the heat burning from her ears all the way down her neck.
She simply turned her head away, not daring to look at him anymore.
But the next moment, she suddenly froze.
Because Gu Yu lowered his head and gently bit her ear.
The sensation wasn’t heavy, but carried a warm, damp touch that was impossible to ignore, clearly an intentional brush of something soft.
Yan Zhao felt a sudden tingle in her ear, a fine, tingling sensation that seemed to slide down her neck.
She instinctively tensed her shoulders and back, frozen in place.
Gu Yu quickly pulled away.
He retreated cleanly, as if nothing had just happened.
He didn’t do anything further, only leaned close to her ear again, his voice dropping low.
“Sister,” Gu Yu said slowly, his tone steady. “If you’re willing to listen, I can keep calling you that.”
Then he turned and went back to tidying up.
In that moment, Yan Zhao couldn’t tell whether she was startled or stunned by his words.
She stood there in a daze, her fingertips still tingling, her heart racing erratically, completely out of control.
Even in her past life, with Gu Cheng, the most they had ever done was hold hands or occasionally stand a little closer.
It wasn’t that Gu Cheng didn’t want to do more, but Li Ling was always watching closely, and any thoughts of crossing the line were suppressed before they could take root.
So it wasn’t until this moment that she belatedly realized—
This was the first time she had ever been this close, this real, this inescapably intimate with a man.
The room was almost completely tidied up by Gu Yu.
Gu Yu clapped his hands, as if finally relieved, his tone softening. “Let’s have something good to eat tonight.” After saying this, his gaze fell on her, lingering for a moment before he added, as if casually, “Change into a dress.”
Yan Zhao had already suppressed the chaotic emotions from earlier.
He now looked natural, his tone calm, as if none of what had just happened existed.
Yet as soon as he said those words, her heart skipped a beat.
Her cheeks grew warm uncontrollably.
Yan Zhao turned her head away, her voice muffled. “I’m not going.”
Gu Yu seemed to have anticipated her refusal. He didn’t rush closer but leaned in slightly, looking down at her, his tone slow and firm. “Sister, aren’t you hungry?”
At this, Yan Zhao truly couldn’t hold back.
She glared up at him, her voice low and urgent. “Stop calling me that.”
Gu Yu seemed to think it over seriously, then tilted his head, his expression calm. “Why?” he said leisurely. “Didn’t you say yourself that I should act like your brother in public?”
His tone was reasonable, his logic flawless.
“I’m just doing as you said.”
Yan Zhao was left speechless by his words.
She opened her mouth to retort but found every possible rebuttal already blocked.
Her cheeks grew even warmer, and she could only avert her gaze, refusing to look at him.
Gu Yu said, “Zhaozhao, go change into a dress.” He looked at her flushed profile, the corners of his lips curling slightly in a faint smile. “If you refuse again, I’ll keep calling you that from now on.”
…
As soon as Yan Zhao pushed open the door of the Western restaurant, she froze.
She truly hadn’t expected to ever step into a place like this in this lifetime.
The interior was bright, lit not by dim yellow lights but by clean, white ones that made the tablecloths gleam.
The tables were neatly arranged, and the chairs, unlike the heavy ones at home, had slender lines that looked delicate.
There was also an indescribable fragrance in the air—not the smell of oil smoke or food, but something that made her hesitant to breathe too deeply.
She instinctively tightened her grip on the hem of her clothes, her steps slowing slightly.
Just as she was still secretly surveying her surroundings, a foreigner approached from ahead.
Golden hair, emerald green eyes, a nose so high it was startling, and facial features so sharp they seemed carved.
The man glanced in their direction, smiling and nodding.
Yan Zhao was truly startled, her steps faltering, nearly stumbling.
Gu Yu noticed her discomfort and turned sideways, blocking her line of sight, his voice lowered: “These foreigners are just like us, only they look different.”
Yan Zhao couldn’t help but whisper: “Then… why are his eyes green? Do they really steal souls?”
The corner of Gu Yu’s mouth twitched: “There are no ghosts in this world. They don’t steal souls—they just have fair skin.”