The Art of Persuasion

The art of giving a carrot after a stick, Lin Ziyan did not wish to force the girl to agree to her proposal directly, for that would be far too dull. As the old adage goes, a forced melon is never sweet. If she could, she would much rather see the girl willingly agree to her proposal. She was confident that, barring any unexpected events, the girl would surely agree by tonight. After all, it’s not as if she stood to lose anything, right?

With this in mind, Lin Ziyan suddenly looked up, gazing intently at the still-dreamy girl, her expression a mix of seriousness and determination.

“Have you learned it?”

Startled by her voice, the girl’s body trembled slightly before she nodded hesitantly.

“Y-yes…”

“If you’ve learned the other one, go ahead and put it on yourself. I’m exhausted, come give me a shoulder massage when you’re done.”

Lin Ziyan stood up from beside the girl’s knees and casually lay down on the bed.

“O-okay…”

The girl’s response was tinged with reluctance, her brow furtively furrowing.

Awkwardly mimicking Lin Ziyan’s earlier actions, she rolled up her socks, inch by inch, over her smooth calves.

“Ziyan… are Mom and Dad really not coming back for lunch?”

Anxious, the girl worried that if her foster parents saw her in this outfit, her secret would be exposed.

“They won’t be.”

Lin Ziyan replied nonchalantly.

“But… what if they suddenly come back? Maybe I should change out of this outfit?”

“Why so many questions? I said they won’t, so they won’t!”

The girl fell silent, her movements halting.

You wouldn’t worry; it’s not like you’re the one who might get kicked out…

Feeling aggrieved, the girl kept her head down. Lin Ziyan noticed her hesitation and sighed.

“Sigh, if they really do come back, I’ll just say I made you wear this. Alright?”

Though it sounded unreliable, it was at least a solution. The girl, however, doubted the credibility of Lin Ziyan’s words.

“Really?”

“Do you think I’m lying?”

The girl wanted to say yes, knowing it wasn’t the first time, but she held her tongue. After a moment of silence, she grumbled, “I hope you keep your word.”

Lin Ziyan merely snorted in response.

“Why are you so slow? Not done yet?”

“Almost, almost…”

Ye Xingmian felt she must be one of those slow learners. In school, her grades were poor, and even with her foster parents teaching her to cook, she struggled, once overcooking an egg and earning a harsh beating. It was a memory seared into her mind, and to this day, she could barely cook a decent meal. Even putting on socks proved challenging; she fumbled for a long time, trying to adjust them perfectly, but eventually gave up, walking over to Lin Ziyan who lay on the bed.

“Ziyan… do you still want me to massage your shoulders?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Lin Ziyan’s voice was lazy, her fingers idly scrolling through her phone.

After a moment of hesitation, the girl crawled beside her, her voice timid. “Can you sit up? It’s hard to massage you like this.”

“Sure.”

Lin Ziyan sat up on the edge of the bed, and the girl knelt behind her, placing her small hands gently on Lin Ziyan’s shoulders, massaging with the strength she remembered.

“Use more force! Are you not eating?”

The girl increased her pressure, but Lin Ziyan winced.

“Ouch—too heavy! Go easier!”

The girl gradually lightened her touch, finally finding a comfortable pressure for Lin Ziyan.

“Hey, you’ve been learning massage from my mom for so long. What did you learn? Are you an idiot? You can’t even control the pressure?”

At Lin Ziyan’s harsh words, a hint of bitterness flashed across the girl’s face. The so-called lessons were nothing more than a few massage tutorial videos Lin’s mom showed her one evening, instructing her to practice on Lin Ziyan. If she used too much pressure, she was scolded; too little, and she was scolded too. Eventually, she had to figure it out on her own.

Besides, now that Lin Ziyan was satisfied, the girl’s hands were aching. Massaging was tiring enough, let alone through clothing…

“Umm… I’m so tired… Can I stop for a bit? Just to rest my hands?”

“No.”

Rejected, the girl continued, her hands trembling until Lin Ziyan finally signaled her to stop, a satisfied look on her face.

“Not bad, but there’s still room for improvement.”

Standing up and stretching, Lin Ziyan checked her phone, realizing it was almost time for school to let out. They had rested enough for the morning, and they needed to get ready for their afternoon classes.

Looking back at the girl, who was rubbing her aching hands, Lin Ziyan had an idea.

“Come here.”

She sat at her vanity, watching the confused girl through the mirror.

“What is it…?”

Ye Xingmian’s voice was always soft and gentle, like a warm breeze, easily overlooked. Being around her was comforting, stirring a mix of protective instincts and the urge to tease her.

“Braid my hair, you remember how, right?”

“Huh? Can I rest first…?”

“Hurry up.”

At Lin Ziyan’s impatient urging, the girl hesitated briefly before obediently putting on her shoes and walking behind her. With weary hands, she picked up the comb from the table and gently brushed Lin Ziyan’s hair.

“What kind of braid should I do?”

“Anything.”

Anything? But she knew so few styles, and it had been so long since she last braided Lin Ziyan’s hair. After a long pause, she carefully created a simple braid, with two strands draped over her shoulders, reminiscent of a magical elf princess.

“Is this okay?”

Lin Ziyan frowned in the mirror.

“No, do another one.”

The girl unravelled the braid, her hands trembling, making the task even harder. “How about this one?”

“Try another.”

Lin Ziyan enjoyed toying with her, finding it amusing. Plus, she was a bit lazy and didn’t want to braid her own hair every day, so she decided to let the girl practice, hoping she’d eventually master it and braid her hair daily.

The sun moved from the east to the zenith, the snow outside slowly melting, but far from completely thawed, turning into a layer of ice that hardened the once-soft flakes. The weather grew colder each day, and as the two interacted, midday arrived.

****