Yun Yi noticed that the man in the passenger seat was slouching more and more lazily. She shot him a glance.
Ha. His head was tilted, resting against the window glass, sleeping like a log.
She pulled over, turned on the hazard lights, and draped over him the dragon robe that had almost been sent to the clothing donation bin.
He didn’t wake up.
Tch. With that level of alertness, and he claims he knows light-footed martial arts?
Up ahead was Yunzhu Villa. The security guard saluted the resident’s car.
Yun Yi tugged the robe, completely covering Xiao Zhi’s head.
The guard looked straight ahead, wearing the perfect professional expression of someone who wouldn’t bat an eye even if the resident’s passenger seat were carrying a corpse.
Right as Yun Yi was covering his head, the man was just waking up, his nose and mouth blocked, feeling suffocated and annoyed.
He—the dignified emperor of the Great Yan Dynasty—was some kind of disgraceful thing that couldn’t be seen in public?
What was the punishment for burying an emperor alive?
Entering the Yun residence once again, Xiao Zhi’s nerves were taut. He observed his surroundings nonstop, every glance triggering an explosion of information in his brain.
Yun Yi stopped walking. “You don’t have to be afraid. These are just things that make life easier. You’ll learn them little by little.”
Xiao Zhi: “When was I ever afraid?”
Yun Yi stopped in front of the metal wall. “Press the upward-pointing triangle.”
Xiao Zhi did as told, pressing the elevator’s up button.
Whoosh. The two dark doors suddenly slid open.
He instinctively stepped back a few paces.
“…” Sigh. And he says he’s not afraid?
Yun Yi guided him hand-over-hand to press the floor button.
The elevator doors closed. The entire cramped space seemed to keep rising. When the doors opened again, the scenery before them had completely changed.
“Third floor.”
“?”
Only when Yun Yi led him into a room and slid open the balcony door did Xiao Zhi realize he was standing on the third floor.
Below was a courtyard, with lush osmanthus trees, the shape of a swing faintly visible beneath them.
“This was my brother’s room. You’ll stay here for now,” Yun Yi said. She opened the wardrobe and found a few of Yun Xi’s clothes. When she opened the underwear drawer, she ran into a problem.
There were no new pairs of underwear.
Thinking about the fussy nature of feudal aristocrats, Yun Yi grew troubled again. Take him to a mall? What if he tore apart the lingerie section? Would she end up working off the debt at the counter?
“Your brother?”
“He’s in America. Won’t be back for a while.”
Yun Yi’s brother had gone on a short-term research exchange to the U.S. through an innovative talent international cooperation program. He’d been insufferably smug about it. Just thinking about his smug face, she couldn’t be bothered to say more.
“America?”
On the desk sat a globe. Yun Yi spun it lightly with her fingertip, stopping on a patch of green. “Right here.”
Xiao Zhi was drawn to the intricate instrument and walked over to the desk.
“The blue is the ocean. These colored patches are land,” Yun Yi spun it once more, tracing her finger along the rooster’s silhouette. “We’re right here. China.”
Time seemed to stand still.
Inside Xiao Zhi’s mind, the Yan Dynasty stood on one side, China on the other. Ancient and modern collided, squeezing him up high, where he looked down across a thousand years, his gaze landing on Yun Yi’s fingertip.
—She was tracing the heart of the rooster.
“See, right here is our nation’s capital, Beijing. The capital of the Yan Dynasty should be right about here.”
In that moment, history silently collapsed. A brand-new world quietly reassembled.
Yun Yi looked at his dusty Hanfu and found it increasingly displeasing to the eye. “Go take a shower first. You can look around slowly afterward.”
Xiao Zhi was pushed by Yun Yi into the bathroom.
He took a look around. Such a humble dwelling—do modern people really live this miserably?
Creak. The door was pushed open again. Seeing Xiao Zhi standing there motionless, Yun Yi put on a fawning voice: “Your servant humbly invites Your Majesty to bathe and change clothes!”
“…How does one wash?” he asked.
Yun Yi couldn’t believe it. “You want me to help you bathe too? You feudal relic, you big flirt, you shameless creep!”
He just wanted to ask where the water came from! From the heavens?!
Yun Yi stepped into the bathroom and demonstrated how the hot and cold water worked.
Then, remembering the time she passed out from bathing too long, she quickly warned him, “Don’t bathe too long.”
Xiao Zhi thought to himself, Modern people really have it hard. Even water usage has to be calculated so carefully.
Next time he returned to the palace, he would be sure to bring more gold and silver for her. She had rendered great service in saving his life—she was the savior of the sovereign. How could she live such a tight-fisted existence?
Then a thought struck him. That unearthed gold foil—he should have snatched it back! It had clearly come from his imperial treasury…
Warm, fine droplets of water sprayed down. Enclosed in the small glass shower, he actually felt a hint of comfort.
While he was bathing, Yun Yi headed straight to the men’s underwear counter at the nearby mall. She had just reached for a pair of black boxer briefs when the saleslady zipped over to her side and, with a voice loud enough for the entire mall to hear, cheerily said, “Oh, sweetie, buying underwear for your boyfriend?”
Yun Yi made up a lie on the spot. “For my brother.” Hmph, she’d never bought any for Yun Xi.
“A sweetheart brother? Come, come, try this style!” The lady pinched out a pair of briefs.
So little fabric. Is this brand crazy, charging two hundred for that?
Picking out the most plain, solid colors, Yun Yi rushed home as fast as she could, genuinely afraid that the dog emperor might tear the house apart.
She had just stepped inside.
The living room was dark, no lights on. Damn it. Forgot to teach him how to turn on the lights.
“Xiao Zhi?” She flipped the switch.
The living room flooded with light. A figure appeared at the top of the stairs to the third floor. Yun Yi waved the shopping bag at him. “I bought you something—”
The figure leaped down in one go, landing steadily on the first floor.
Yun Yi froze.
The person before her looked like a peerless martial artist.
Xiao Zhi had changed into a lychee-white hoodie and loose jeans, the hems pooling on the floor. He seemed unaccustomed to this simple outfit, and unexpectedly, he even looked a little boyish.
Without his dragon robe, his chiseled face appeared much softer.
“Shopping?” Xiao Zhi looked at the shopping bag that had fallen to the floor. He hooked a fingertip around it and pulled out a pair of boxer briefs. “This item… is an undergarment?”
“Uh.” Yun Yi had meant to sneak them into his room. She hadn’t expected those plain-colored boxers to appear so brazenly in Xiao Zhi’s hands. “Go put them on.”
She really didn’t want to be under the same roof as a man wearing nothing underneath!
Xiao Zhi said nothing, wearing the expression of someone long accustomed to being emperor.
But his footsteps quickened, faster and faster. Once inside his room, he slammed the door shut. His heart swelled for no reason.
The customs of this millennium hence are this bold? An unmarried young lady buying undergarments for a man?
On the kitchen stove sat a small pot, steam rising from its rim. Yun Yi dropped in some small rice dumplings, scooped in some fermented rice, and sprinkled a handful of dried osmanthus flowers.
She had no idea whether that insufferable emperor would like it, but this was the full extent of her cooking skills.
Then Yun Yi thought of the lavish imperial kitchen delicacies and cut up some banana slices, tossing those in too.
She, who never set foot in the kitchen, had already finished making dessert—and Xiao Zhi still hadn’t come down?
Was the emperor unable to put on underwear or something?
Maybe she’d bought the wrong size?
Yun Yi knocked on the door.
The door flew open. She was greeted by a head of soaking wet, flowing hair.
“AHHHHH!”
She shrieked in fright, her shoulder blade slamming into the doorframe, making her hiss from the pain.
“Why are you trying to scare me?!”
Never mind the ghost from The Ring—this one was too tall, with wet hair to boot. This was like The Ring meets 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.
“Does it hurt a lot?” Xiao Zhi brushed aside his long hair. Remembering that she had injured her shoulder, his heart was filled with regret. He had no idea whether there were still doctors in 2026.
Yun Yi propped up her shoulder in an awkward position and called him over to eat.
The reflective surface of the indoor elevator car showed Xiao Zhi’s now-smoothed hair, looking like seaweed soaked through with water. A single droplet slid down, landing on a small mole on his neck. The seaweed swayed—fresh and dripping.
Yun Yi looked away. “Why didn’t you use a drying cap?”
“I already dried it,” Xiao Zhi said flatly. After his bath, just figuring out how to put his clothes on decently had already drained a good deal of his energy. The various colorful towels Yun Yi had given him—he had no desire to investigate further.
“What color was the drying cap?” Yun Yi pressed.
“White,” he made up on the spot.
“That was a bath towel!”
Yun Yi fetched a cream-yellow drying cap and wrapped his hair up in it, visibly annoyed. “Butter yellow teddy bear. I haven’t even used it myself.”
The reflection in the kitchen sliding door now showed someone who looked like they were from India. If his courtiers ever saw him like this, his image as the cold, aloof emperor would be ruined.
Yun Yi pushed the bowl of fermented rice dumplings toward him. Noticing him eyeing the small bowl with a strange look, she quickly said, “I made it. It’s not poisoned. Are you going to eat it or not?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Was looking at it an extra moment a capital offense now?
The little yellow cubes in the bowl looked like plantains. They grew in the Lingnan and Guiyong regions, and transport over such long distances made them rare in the capital.
He had only tasted plantains after ascending the throne. They were soft, sticky, and pleasant—he would eat one from time to time.
“Is it good?” She craned her neck to see as Xiao Zhi scooped up a third spoonful.
“Good.”
Her brow furrowed slightly. She didn’t believe him.
On Chinese New Year’s Eve, she had blown up a pressure cooker while making old duck soup and ended up as a negative example in the property management’s public account. Even now, the photo of her duck hanging from the ceiling was still on that post.
“…Better than the imperial chef’s cooking?”
“Have I ever spoken a lie?”
Yun Yi’s eyes lit up, just as he expected. She didn’t bother arguing with him over his use of “imperial” language. Even if someone overheard, the worst they’d think was that Xiao Zhi had some mental issues.
After being praised, Yun Yi went on to make a simplified version of army stew.
Seeing Xiao Zhi pick up the instant noodles and ham sausage with his chopsticks, eating with relish, and even drink the leftover broth down to the last drop, Yun Yi thought to herself: My cooking has finally been recognized by the world.
She was about to clean up the kitchen. Xiao Zhi didn’t leave; instead, he insisted on standing right next to her. “Go watch TV.”
“Let me do it,” Xiao Zhi said, glancing at the empty living room. There wasn’t even a servant in this house. Her elder brother was away, her father was constantly out in the wild digging up broken gold fragments to earn a living, and her mother had divorced her father—clearly because they were poor.
Her shoulder hurt, yet she kept enduring and didn’t go see a doctor—was she afraid the medical fees were too expensive?
Realizing he had arrived in her era penniless, Xiao Zhi smiled helplessly. Even a hero can be brought down by a shortage of cash.
“You don’t need to do the dishes. I have a dishwasher.” Yun Yi put the pots and bowls into the dishwasher right in front of him, then demonstrated how to operate it. She noticed him watching silently, lost in thought.
After a meal, digestion was necessary. But how could they go for a walk with his hair still wet? Yun Yi found a hairdryer and was about to let him dry his own hair.
But this Emperor comrade treated the hairdryer like a hidden weapon and hurled it away.
Yun Yi was at her wit’s end.
Her eyes lingered on his hair—longer than even the ghost from The Ring—for half a second. Fine. Considering he has long hair but short experience with modern things, I’ll forgive him.
“Sit down. I’ll dry it for you.”
Afraid he might get bored, Yun Yi casually turned on the living room TV.
0.1 seconds later, she regretted her decision.
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