Xiong Yibai was trapped between Feng Miwan’s body and the mattress. The calm, composed look in her eyes was now glazed over with a layer of mist, her rationality crumbling bit by bit.
The wutong branches were pushed by the wind, their leaves rustling against each other, the sound growing denser.
A deep kiss ended, and Xiong Yibai turned her head to catch her breath, seizing the moment to say,
“No… Little Honey, you have training this afternoon.”
Feng Miwan’s kiss landed smoothly on her flushed earlobe, her breath hot:
“It’s fine… I have great stamina, remember?”
As she spoke,
…
Moonlight spilled over the windowsill, inching up the folds of the bedsheets, gentle yet inescapable.
“Besides,” Feng Miwan’s voice dropped lower, “training isn’t as important as you.”
Xiong Yibai wanted to say something more, but Feng Miwan silenced her with another kiss.
This kiss was no longer rushed. The hands Xiong Yibai had pushed against her shoulders gradually relaxed.
The wind suddenly picked up, turning the friction of the wutong leaves into something ambiguous. The jasmine swayed lightly in the breeze, its sweet scent wafting in, thick and intoxicating.
Xiong Yibai knew she couldn’t stop her—or rather, deep down, she didn’t truly want to halt things now.
She closed her eyes and murmured reminders in the brief gaps between:
…
Feng Miwan let out a low chuckle: “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”
Her movements grew even more meticulous, but she held firm in her dominant position.
Feng Miwan seemed to relish the process of slowly breaking down her partner’s defenses.
She let the wind slip through the window cracks, brushing over every crease in the curtains, carrying the jasmine scent across the walls. The flower stems swayed in the breeze, dew rolling off onto the stone slabs.
“Yibai,”
Every so often, she paused to nuzzle Xiong Yibai’s cheek or collarbone with her nose,
…
Clouds gathered thickly, enveloping all the faint light and throbs at their center.
She leaned down and kissed Xiong Yibai once more.
The wind surged and ebbed, the wutong leaves rising and falling in waves, like wheat fields pushed by gusts or tides ebbing and flowing with an irresistible rhythm.
The gloom of clouds blotting out the sun clashed with the leaking spots of light. Every touch was like the wind swirling with floral fragrance, sweeping over all defenses.
As the final gust swept through the treetops, the clouds gradually parted.
The storm subsided.
She gently kissed Xiong Yibai’s forehead before rolling over to lie beside her in satisfaction. Yet she still extended her arm, letting Xiong Yibai pillow on it and pulling her close into an embrace.
Both caught their breath.
After a while, Xiong Yibai found her voice:
“…How did you get so good?”
Feng Miwan turned toward her, twirling a strand of Xiong Yibai’s long hair that had fallen across the pillow:
“I learned from you.”
Xiong Yibai raised an eyebrow: “Looks like last night’s intensity wasn’t enough if you still had time to pick up tricks?”
Feng Miwan fired back without missing a beat, leaning in closer:
“Then it seems the intensity just now wasn’t enough either, since you still have the energy to tease me?”
Xiong Yibai laughed at her parroting:
“You picked that up too?”
Feng Miwan declared righteously,
“Of course. Don’t forget, I’ve always thought your every decision and choice was brilliant, so I’ve always seen you as my role model.”
The amusement deepened in Xiong Yibai’s eyes, and she softly hummed:
“…I see.”
“Mm,” Feng Miwan nodded vigorously. “Not only will I learn from you—I’ll surpass you.”
“Oh?” Xiong Yibai asked with interest. “How so?”
Feng Miwan leaned in even closer, their breaths mingling:
“For example… I could go again.”
Xiong Yibai’s lips curved, her voice low and languid:
“If we’re going again… it should be me this time.”
Feng Miwan reached out to caress Xiong Yibai’s cheek, whispering breathily:
“Then… shall we try?”
Their eyes locked, and the heat that had just subsided seemed to reignite in the tangle of their gazes.
But then Xiong Yibai suddenly took a deep breath and sat up abruptly. She reached up to smooth her disheveled long hair:
“Wait until you win the race. Training comes first.”
Feng Miwan sat up too, hugging Xiong Yibai from behind and resting her chin on her shoulder:
“Everything’s important—training is important, but you’re even more so. Since you’ve said it, Yibai, I’ll listen to you.”
Xiong Yibai turned her head to look at the fluffy head nestled in the crook of her shoulder, then lifted a hand to ruffle it:
“Good.”
Feng Miwan lingered on her shoulder for a few seconds before letting go. She rolled out of bed and stood at the edge, extending a hand to Xiong Yibai:
“Come on, let’s go to the bathroom. Then I’ll change the bedsheets later.”
Xiong Yibai took her hand and stood with its help:
“Okay.”
At noon, Feng Miwan changed into her racing suit and pecked Xiong Yibai’s cheek:
“I’m off!”
Xiong Yibai nodded: “Be safe.”
Once the door closed, Xiong Yibai went to the bathroom. After a moment’s thought, she pulled out her phone and contacted the renovation crew.
She planned to replace her single-person bathtub with a larger one for two.
Once the new tub was installed, she turned on the faucet. Water flowed steadily; she tested it, and the temperature was perfect.
She leaned down to sniff—no off-putting new-material smell.
She shut off the faucet, dried her hands, and as she left the bathroom, neatly folded the bath towel draped over the chair back—the one Feng Miwan had tossed there in her rush to leave.
Sunlight slanted through the blinds, casting crisscrossing light and shadow along the edge of the new bathtub.
That flicker of light marked the passage of over a month.
In that month-plus, Feng Miwan entered the final sprint of her season training, busy every day.
She and Xiong Yibai developed a new routine: whoever got home first made dinner, the other handled cleanup afterward.
Little Honeybee weaved around their feet, overseeing it all.
Zhao Shutong and Ren Queyue dragged them out for two small gatherings—once at their place, once at Zhao Shutong’s new Wutong Teahouse.
When the four got together, their chatter ranged far and wide, lively and fun.
Now, as Xiong Yibai pushed open the bathroom door again, she held a bottle of citrus-scented bath salts. The tub was filled; she sprinkled them in.
Familiar footsteps approached from outside. Then the bathroom door eased open.
Feng Miwan poked her head in, holding up a small paper bag:
“Yibai, look what I brought? I passed a flower shop and saw these new deep-red roses—thick petals, perfect for a bath!”
Xiong Yibai’s lips curved: “Come on in. The water’s just right.”
