Yiren's breathing steadied, her tears gone, as the two of them stood beneath the gently dripping bamboo shower. With a determined glint returning to her eyes, she flashed Xuefeng a cheeky grin.
"I wasn't finished cleaning you," she insisted with soft resolve. "Sit."
She wiggled out of his arms and retrieved a small wooden stool from a corner. Xuefeng gave her a patient, knowing nod, then lowered himself onto it. A part of him still reeled at how naturally they'd fallen into such closeness, but he no longer fought it. After all, he'd promised her these few days.
The water pattered against his shoulders, warm and comforting, as Yiren reached for a bottle of fragrant shampoo again. She poured a generous amount into her palm, then into his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp with gentle thoroughness. Each deliberate motion felt purposeful, as though she wanted to ensure every spot was free of the day's grime.
