Put your feet on my legs.

Ming Shuyan wore an ambiguous smile.

In winter, the sky was overcast, neither bright nor adorned with many clouds.

“Pillow,” Ming Shuyan called softly when alone, “have you ever had a dog?”

Ming Shuzhen shook her head—she lacked the patience and energy.

“When I started working, I lived in a rented place. The neighborhood had stray dogs I often fed,” Ming Shuyan said slowly.

“One little white dog, filthy but clingy, would go wild when I came by, rolling over to show its belly, begging for a pat.”

“But it was so dirty, I’d only give it a half-hearted touch.” Ming Shuyan smiled faintly, her face softening with memory.

“I read online that animals’ weak spots are their throats and bellies. Rolling over shows submission and friendliness.”

Ming Shuzhen knew this—dogs baring their bellies say, *Look, I’m harmless, safe, come play!*

“So, people are like that too, right? You expose yourself fully first. If they accept, don’t judge, you move forward,” Ming Shuyan said softly, her voice like distant wind chimes.

Ming Shuzhen pondered her words, her heart pausing as she looked up.

Today, Ming Shuyan wore all black, silver earrings and a belt breaking the monochrome. But to Ming Shuzhen, her vision dimmed briefly.

Was her boss… showing vulnerability, like that little white dog baring its belly? *I’m a stray, dirty, no pedigree, no vaccines… but I’m loyal, good. Will you take me in, or at least pat my head? Look, I’m great at wagging my tail!*

“Boss…” Ming Shuzhen spoke slowly, her heart clenching painfully.

Despite hospital tests—ECG, heart ultrasound—showing no issues, she feared these random pangs might mean something.

Ming Shuyan turned, expression calm, but Ming Shuzhen felt a barrier between them dissolve.

Before, whether due to their boss-subordinate dynamic or misunderstandings, there was distance. Now, it wasn’t just Ming Shuyan’s openness—it was Ming Shuzhen’s urge to hug this “stray” who wagged her tail so well.

Under the gray sky, Ming Shuzhen looked at her, heart twisting, aching intermittently.

Ming Shuyan glanced at her, seeing through her. “I didn’t tell you this for pity. You said everyone has a story—I’m just sharing mine.”

“Oh…” Ming Shuzhen, guilty, avoided her gaze. “I don’t pity you.”

“Then what’s with that look, like I’m a dog?”

“Uh.” Ming Shuzhen blinked, heart steadying, pain gone.

*You think you’re as cute as a dog? Dogs wag tails—you got one?* she teased inwardly.

—

That night, back at the hotel, Ming Shuyan watched Ming Shuzhen take her medicine.

Though Ming Shuzhen felt better, she obediently complied.

After, she lay in bed, scrolling her phone, lulling herself to sleep.

Ming Shuyan went to wash up, leaving the room quiet.

The incandescent light flickered, then died, the air conditioner’s blue dot fading with a “ding.”

“Hm?” Ming Shuzhen thought Ming Shuyan turned off the light, but hearing no movement, she guessed a power outage.

Peering toward the bathroom, she saw only darkness.

Worried, she turned on her phone’s flashlight. “Boss?”

“Hm?” Ming Shuyan replied instantly.

Standing outside the frosted bathroom door, Ming Shuzhen avoided looking in, head turned. “Boss, power’s out. Want my phone to light your way?”

No response, no sound of water. Hesitant, Ming Shuzhen aimed the light inside, head still averted.

“Click.” The door opened.

Ming Shuyan emerged, hair wet, in blue checkered pajamas resembling hospital scrubs.

“Uh…” Ming Shuzhen stood foolishly, phone raised.

“Oh, okay,” she mumbled.

Ming Shuyan called the front desk, who were unsure of the issue but promised to send a lamp.

“Oh,” Ming Shuzhen said, her phone’s battery sufficient.

She clambered back to bed, hearing Ming Shuyan’s voice.

“Turn off the flashlight. No need to keep it on.”

“Oh, okay.”

With the flashlight off, the room plunged into darkness.

Neither spoke. After a while, both phone screens lit up simultaneously.

An eerie silence persisted until the front desk knocked, delivering a charged table lamp with strong battery life.

Ming Shuyan placed it between their beds on the nightstand, plugging her phone into a power bank the front desk provided.

Only then did Ming Shuzhen notice the chill.

Unlike the north, there was no heating here.

Normally, the air conditioner warmed the room, but now, powerless, it was useless.

Ming Shuzhen wrapped her blanket tighter, hands trembling as she played on her phone.

“Cold?” Ming Shuyan, feeling the chill herself, asked.

Not standing on ceremony, Ming Shuzhen nodded, then, realizing it might not be seen, said, “Mm. A bit. The blanket’s cold.”

Her grumbling sounded like whining.

Ming Shuyan set down her phone, hesitated, then got out of bed.

*Shuzhen’s cold just improved—she can’t catch another,* she thought, slipping into Ming Shuzhen’s bed.

Hearing rustling, Ming Shuzhen’s eyes widened. Feeling a shadow join her, touching something solid, her heart leapt.

“Boss?” Her voice was dry.

“Mm.” Ming Shuyan felt her action was bold but didn’t want Ming Shuzhen’s cold to worsen.

She edged closer.

“What are you doing?”

Ming Shuyan didn’t reply, but her intent was clear—huddling together for warmth.

Her naturally warmer body, now flushed with embarrassment, radiated more heat.

Ming Shuzhen felt a warm, soft presence nearing, then touching her. Realizing who it was, her own body warmed.

But her feet stayed icy.

She shifted, making space.

“Boss, want another pillow?” Noticing Ming Shuyan’s head bare, she worried about her comfort.

“No need,” Ming Shuyan whispered.

Ming Shuzhen fell silent, scooting her pillow to share, their heads close.

Adjusting to another person, sleep crept over her.

Ming Shuyan lay quietly beside her, not working or scrolling, eyes open.

Ming Shuzhen didn’t know if she was thinking or savoring the moment.

Mumbling drowsily, “So cold, my feet are freezing.”

Even with the warm presence, it wasn’t enough.

Ming Shuyan tilted her head. “Put on socks?”

“Socks are uncomfortable to sleep in,” Ming Shuzhen pouted. In the dark, they saw only shadows, feeling each other’s warmth.

“Take them off later.”

“I’ll be asleep by then.” Finding and wearing socks was too much effort—she didn’t want to leave her cocoon.

“Put your feet on my legs, then,” Ming Shuyan said, surprisingly calm.

“Hm?” Ming Shuzhen doubted her ears, then thought, *Good idea—if it was Zhong Shuo, I’d kick my feet up without a second thought.*

Seeing no response, Ming Shuyan felt embarrassed and stayed silent.

The lamp was off—Ming Shuyan thanked her earlier reflex to turn it out. Darkness offered safety, easing shame.

She’d only wanted to warm Ming Shuzhen, not take advantage, but now, overthinking, she feared being misunderstood.

Though, admittedly, her thoughts weren’t entirely pure…

Neither spoke, and Ming Shuyan thought her suggestion was forgotten. Then, Ming Shuzhen’s icy feet nudged over.

They were so cold, Ming Shuyan flinched.

She stayed still, adjusting to the chill.

Finding warmth, Ming Shuzhen relaxed, giggling. “Boss, my feet too cold?”

“It’s fine,” Ming Shuyan said, body stiff.

Ming Shuzhen closed her eyes contentedly.

Already sleepless, Ming Shuyan now had no chance of rest, staring at the ceiling until her eyes stung, blinking.

These days, she’d opened herself to Ming Shuzhen, surprising even herself with her unguardedness.

But her heart was happy—like craving cake far from her birthday, then suddenly getting a big slice.

Ming Shuyan smiled at the ceiling, this satisfaction so blissful.