Sorry, I really can’t help it.

“Take it off.”

The two words landed, and Xu Fengluan visibly stiffened.

The person opposite her remained calm, carrying an air of “if you’re going to be reckless, I’ll go along with it.”

Liu Tingsong casually pinned her hair up with a silver clip, unbuttoning two buttons of her white blouse. The soft curve of her shoulder and neck peeked through the collar, and that large bite mark was indeed unhidden—how she’d gone out like that to run errands, Xu Fengluan couldn’t fathom.

Trying to avoid it, Xu Fengluan’s gaze dropped.

Liu Tingsong’s rolled-up sleeves revealed forearms dampened by water, her fingertips reddened by the heat, dripping as if silently urging her.

The one who’d been desperate to shower now hesitated.

Though they’d been plenty intimate during their relationship, this was different—alone, five years later. Even the clothed wipe-downs had felt awkward; this was worse.

In a last-ditch effort, Xu Fengluan’s lips parted, her voice barely audible.

Liu Tingsong didn’t catch it, letting out a questioning hum.

Xu Fengluan took a deep breath, repeating, “Turn around.”

Liu Tingsong blinked, surprised.

She hadn’t thought much of it, too focused on ensuring nothing went wrong, mentally rehearsing the shower process, no room for other thoughts. Xu Fengluan’s words snapped her back, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Xu Fengluan caught the shift, embarrassment flaring. “Turn around already!” she snapped, voice rising.

Liu Tingsong wanted to laugh but, fearing she’d rile her up, quickly turned.

“Why are you facing the mirror?!”

So vigilant.

Liu Tingsong turned again, facing the closed door.

Xu Fengluan squinted at her. Though a slight angle could still reflect in the mirror, the cramped bathroom made this the best compromise, so she let it go, growling, “Don’t move, or I’ll kick you out.”

Liu Tingsong swallowed her amusement, mumbling, “Okay.” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

As if she needed to sneak a peek when she’d have plenty of chances openly soon.

But Xu Fengluan was like a spooked cat, hissing at the slightest touch.

The bathroom fell silent. Xu Fengluan paused, then slowly unbuttoned her gown.

It wasn’t a big deal—both women, nothing new.

She’d gone to hot springs with Chu Cheng and the others. At first, everyone was shy, wrapped in robes, but when Chu Cheng dove in, carefree, they relaxed.

Even with different orientations, attraction needed a spark. Without it, it was just another body, like looking at yourself.

Not like those exaggerated Weibo claims—fingers going stiff from desire.

Xu Fengluan always laughed at those, thinking people were just excusing their own promiscuity with silly reasons.

She reassured herself, finally undoing the third button.

But then—Liu Tingsong wasn’t exactly innocent with her, was she?

They hadn’t fought much over roles, but Liu Tingsong wasn’t always passive. Maybe a 0.2, with occasional rebellious streaks, swiftly quashed by Xu Fengluan.

Back then, at eighteen, Xu Fengluan was barely an adult, and Liu Tingsong had a strange restraint. But now…

Tension gripped her again, the fourth button stuck in her fingers.

Liu Tingsong, waiting silently, finally urged, “Stop overthinking, or you’ll catch a cold.”

Worried Xu Fengluan might rush, she softened, “Take your time. Don’t touch your wounds.”

She knew Xu Fengluan’s mind raced when nervous or bored, often blurting out amusing tangents.

Xu Fengluan, not wanting to delay, unbuttoned the gown, tossing it onto the sink. Liu Tingsong instinctively glanced at the mirror, then snapped back.

Xu Fengluan didn’t notice, fumbling with her pants. Luckily, the hospital pants were loose, her slim legs making it easy despite the splint, with a bit of care.

But her gaze drifted to Liu Tingsong. “Why aren’t you talking?”

Now she minded the silence.

Liu Tingsong, unbothered, thought before saying, “Zhaozhao came today too?”

Having seen the band’s visits, she knew the kid.

Mentioning Zhaozhao relaxed Xu Fengluan, a smile in her voice. “She cried and fussed to see me. Her mom couldn’t stop her.”

A touch of pride crept in. “She’s been sweet since she was tiny. This afternoon, she scooped apple puree for me.”

Liu Tingsong nodded, then asked, “Didn’t you always hate apples?”

Xu Fengluan, raised by grandparents who worked in a hospital, was inundated with apples from visitors. They’d bring piles home, and she grew sick of them, refusing them since.

“Zhaozhao scooped it herself,” Xu Fengluan said, then added, “She rarely fusses over me. I didn’t want to upset her.”

So indulgent—no wonder Zhaozhao adored her.

Liu Tingsong’s lashes fluttered, a strange feeling stirring. “What about when I feed you?” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Xu Fengluan, tugging off her pants, shot her a look. “Liu Tingsong, she’s three.”

A grown woman comparing herself to a toddler? Zhaozhao was just learning to care; Xu Fengluan couldn’t crush that. Adults understood preferences and wouldn’t force it.

Liu Tingsong pursed her lips, stumped, as the pants were balled up and tossed aside.

She glanced again, unable to look away this time.

Xu Fengluan tried to cover up, bundling her undergarments into the pants, but they hit the sink and unraveled, exposing them.

It wasn’t a big deal—they’d had more awkward moments when less familiar.

Laid out like this, it was… fine, right?

Before Liu Tingsong could look away, Xu Fengluan’s exasperated shout rang out, “Liu Tingsong!”

She turned, unfazed, stepping closer. “Done? Put your leg on the stool.”

Acting like nothing happened.

Xu Fengluan glared.

Liu Tingsong, composed, asked, “What?”

Her calmness eased Xu Fengluan’s embarrassment but sparked irritation. Why was Liu Tingsong so unfazed?

Then she said, “Still the same white cotton style? You really like those?”

“Liu Tingsong!”

The white-haired cat exploded, redness spreading from ears to neck, blood-hot. Her bad habit kicked in—she lashed out, kicking Liu Tingsong’s shin.

“Get out! I’ll wash myself!”

She started shooing her.

Liu Tingsong’s suppressed laughter spilled from her eyes, shimmering with warmth. She grabbed Xu Fengluan’s pushing hand, coaxing, “Okay, baby, time to shower.”

The overly gentle tone stunned Xu Fengluan.

Before she could react, Liu Tingsong bent down, lifting her leg onto another stool, picking up the showerhead, and restarting the water.

Warm water hit her head, cooling the burning heat, reason returning.

Xu Fengluan gritted her teeth. “Are you treating me like a kid?”

Liu Tingsong didn’t answer directly, cooing, “Shall we wash your hair first, baby?”

She was!

Even Zhaozhao didn’t need this much coddling. Xu Fengluan, humiliated and flustered, was speechless.

Liu Tingsong continued, water soaking Xu Fengluan’s hair, white strands clinging to her forehead and cheeks. Droplets fell from trembling lashes, her emerald eyes darting away, avoiding Liu Tingsong.

Her movements were slow, careful around the glass-cut wounds, still raw despite days passing. The pain they must’ve caused…

Liu Tingsong’s gaze dropped, her touch lighter.

Xu Fengluan, still awkward, tried acting unbothered, but her voice was stiff. “Hold the showerhead higher. I’ll wash my hair.”

She insisted she was fine—just a leg injury, not broken arms. Liu Tingsong didn’t need to hover. She just…

She tried distracting herself, but her mind froze, unable to form a sentence.

Liu Tingsong squeezed shampoo onto her head, moving the showerhead aside, coaxing, “Okay.”

Xu Fengluan felt like a three-year-old, lips grinding, unable to retort, muttering, “Close your eyes.” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Liu Tingsong complied. If they kept stalling, Xu Fengluan might catch a cold, and her recovering head couldn’t handle a fever. So she shut her eyes.

Xu Fengluan peeked, finally lowering her hands from her chest, scratching her head.

Still awkward—knowing Liu Tingsong couldn’t see didn’t help. Having someone stand there while she bathed was bizarre.

Like some ancient noble lady, waited on even in the bath.

But in truth, Xu Fengluan hadn’t needed anyone for years. A memory flickered, her lashes trembling.

Liu Tingsong spoke, “Wash first, don’t zone out.”

Xu Fengluan snapped back, furiously scrubbing her hair.

Foam fell, hitting her nose, forcing her eyes shut to avoid stinging.

Liu Tingsong opened her eyes, her expression unreadable, watching Xu Fengluan’s chaotic scrubbing.

Her pale skin made every blush glaring, especially now, red from head to toe, even her fingertips.

Tense, water traced her lean frame, from her defined abs to her slender legs, pooling at her delicate ankles.

“Okay,” Liu Tingsong’s voice was hoarse, grabbing Xu Fengluan’s wrist. “It’s clean. I’ll rinse it.”

Xu Fengluan didn’t resist, her mind blank from nerves, not even upset that Liu Tingsong opened her eyes.

Warm water hit her head, gentle fingers lifting her hair, rinsing foam bit by bit.

The showerhead moved lower, fingers following.

Xu Fengluan’s eyes stayed shut, lashes quivering, breathing uneven.

The room was quiet, only water flowing.

She felt Liu Tingsong’s gaze—focused, not entirely calm, almost burning.

This realization made her grip the stool’s edge.

She felt like a giant doll, like in those perverse movies where the protagonist obsesses over their perfect toy, controlling it entirely.

But it didn’t quite fit—those characters were possessive, mad, never letting their doll get damaged. Yet here she was, leg broken, body scarred.

Unless… they liked the battle-worn version?

Intentionally marking their doll?

Terrifying.

Her throat bobbed with a swallow.

Each touch made her tremble.

The showerhead paused, followed by the sound of body wash being squeezed.

Milky liquid foamed in Liu Tingsong’s hands, then spread across Xu Fengluan’s skin.

Cool.

Xu Fengluan shivered, lashes fluttering harder, biting her lip.

How had it come to this? She was completely passive, no trace of her usual 0.8 dominance. Even in their past, she’d never been this shy. Why now…

Her breathing grew ragged, veins bulging on her hands gripping the stool.

Foam spread, from her neck down, over each rib, to her slightly concave waist.

Before it went lower, Xu Fengluan grabbed her wrist, whispering, “I’ll do it.”

Liu Tingsong didn’t stop her. Xu Fengluan, eyes still shut, hurriedly scrubbed, moving elsewhere.

No more surprises.

Outside, footsteps passed—likely a nurse with a cart, knocking on doors.

Muffled voices faded as doors closed, repeating room by room.

The remaining lights went out, one by one.

The night deepened, the crescent moon silent.

Liu Tingsong’s eyes darkened, the line between black and white blurring, emotions murky.

Xu Fengluan, oblivious, scrubbed herself red, leaving finger marks.

Liu Tingsong turned the water hotter, following her movements.

“Gentler, baby,” her voice softer.

Xu Fengluan paused, feeling stranger.

She was washing herself now, yet it felt weirder, like she was performing for Liu Tingsong.

“Here,” Liu Tingsong said, ignoring her pause, guiding her wrist to her neck. “From here down.”

Xu Fengluan’s lips tightened, the odd feeling unrelenting, but with no solution, she continued.

Rough fingertips grazed her neck, reddening the already flushed skin.

Yet Liu Tingsong did nothing, just stood there, holding the showerhead, rinsing as Xu Fengluan moved.

“There’s a wound here,” she said suddenly, grabbing then releasing her wrist.

Xu Fengluan dodged it, but Liu Tingsong was right there—

She smeared quickly and moved on, not daring to linger.

She’d begged for this shower, but now it was torture, every second a test.

Her movements sped up, rushing through. “Done,” she said hastily.

Her first time craving a shower’s end.

Liu Tingsong spoke, “Wait, this spot’s not clean.”

Her nerves, briefly eased, snapped tight, tenser than before.

Thankfully, it was just her back, not elsewhere.

Xu Fengluan exhaled quietly, but the pause lingered, confusion rising. Gathering courage, she opened her eyes.

Liu Tingsong stood before her, gaze intensely focused.

Xu Fengluan froze.

A *thud*—the showerhead hit the floor.

Liu Tingsong cupped her cheeks, leaning in, lips grazing her mouth’s corner. Her breath, hotter than Xu Fengluan’s, rasped, “Sorry, baby.”

“You’re just too cute.”

Kisses followed, from lips to cheeks, nose, up to her flickering eyes.

“Sorry, baby, I really can’t hold back,” her hoarse voice betrayed a long-suppressed desire, finally slipping.

Xu Fengluan wanted to say something, but her lips were sealed. She bit in frustration, catching Liu Tingsong’s lip.

Liu Tingsong didn’t resist, letting her punish, hands tightening on her face, forcing her head back.

“Baby…”

Her voice, too rough, lost its clarity, only barely discernible.

The biting didn’t earn a plea, only deeper, enveloping kisses.

Until the prey relaxed, releasing its fangs.

Then the counterattack began.

Tongues met, breaths heavy, fingers sliding down her neck, pressing firmly.

Xu Fengluan grabbed Liu Tingsong’s collar, wrinkling the fabric.

“Baby, baby,” Liu Tingsong murmured, low and urgent.

Her desperate force seemed to melt Xu Fengluan into her very bones.

The dropped showerhead kept running, soaking Liu Tingsong’s pants and shirt.

Wet white hair dripped, pooling in the hollow of Xu Fengluan’s collarbone, rippling with each movement.

The soft light now glared, Xu Fengluan too overwhelmed to open her eyes, letting Liu Tingsong take control.

Time blurred until Xu Fengluan felt her fingers cool. Liu Tingsong slowly pulled back.

Foreheads pressed together, noses touching, Xu Fengluan opened her eyes, catching Liu Tingsong suppressing the desire in her gaze.

“Baby…” she whispered, a pang of tenderness in her sigh. “You’re really too thin.”

Xu Fengluan didn’t respond, pushing her away.