Chapter 43: Simmering in Warm Water Part 2

In the frame, blue veins bulged on the back of Yan Muyu’s pale left hand—whether from anger or strain, it was hard to say. Her other hand dug viciously into Qiu Chao’s waist, as if determined to yank her off.

【This position… it’s a bit…】

【Even the script didn’t need to go this far.】

【Face right in the chest… too much…】

【Young Boss Yan, you’re so lucky.】

【I feel like I’ve soul-swapped into Yan Muyu… Sister Qiu’s figure is smoking hot.】

【Gotta be super soft, right?】

【Who was it saying Qiu Chao’s chest is fake?】

【If it were padded, it’d have exploded on impact. Yan Muyu, clear it up for your big sis quick.】

【The production team’s so mean, switching to wide shot right when the sun’s setting—the scenery’s unreal.】

【Close-up vibes are steamy too, so ambiguous, I’m freaking out aaaah】

Outside the courtyard, the sky glowed soft orange, layered with pale purple and blue above.

City dwellers rarely got to savor sunrises and sunsets so intimately, but the show let viewers breathe in nature’s freshness.

Unfortunately, Yan Muyu couldn’t see it right now.

She was even struggling to breathe. With effort, she rasped, “Get off me.”

Qiu Chao shot back, “I’d love to.”

She could hear the gritted teeth in Yan Muyu’s voice, maybe even an incoming curse about it being on purpose.

But it really wasn’t.

Qiu Chao felt a bit wronged herself. How was she supposed to know the chair was such junk?

And if they were assigning blame, it was clearly Yan Muyu’s fault—she’d jolted it first.

But right now, they were pressed too close, Yan Muyu’s breath hot against Qiu Chao’s chest.

Qiu Chao had swapped into a low-neck T-shirt after returning from the Embroidery Workshop, and her light blue cardigan now draped over them both.

As the chair swayed, with Yan Muyu’s grunts, Qiu Chao’s yelps—even Liu Song off to the side blushed.

Xi Xi: …

She instinctively reached to cover Liu Song’s eyes.

Qiu Chao struggled a few times but couldn’t get up. Finally, Yan Muyu turned her face away and yelled at Xi Xi, “What are you covering? Come help already!”

Xi Xi took Yan Muyu’s camera, and Liu Song helped haul Qiu Chao up.

Turned out, she couldn’t rise because the cardigan had snagged on a nail protruding from the chair’s side.

Now the light blue hem hung in tatters. With Qiu Chao’s disheveled hair and flushed face, the whole sight looked even stranger.

Yan Muyu inspected the nail, then pretended nonchalance as she fetched a hammer.

With her back to the camera, she pressed her lips together. The tartness of green jujubes mingled with Qiu Chao’s softness, a complicated ache.

She thought: On purpose, huh?

But Qiu Chao’s aggrieved look as she was helped up gave Yan Muyu second thoughts.

~~~

A little after seven, Yan Muyu called Hong Long, who readily agreed to her request.

She even turned down Yan Muyu’s offer of payment.

Yan Muyu had offered to pick her up, but Hong Long insisted on coming herself.

Before long, the roar of a motorcycle echoed from outside the courtyard. Yan Muyu went out to greet her.

The short-haired woman with sun-darkened skin was helping Boss Wu—decked out in a red skirt—off the bike.

The guests had tidied the little yard. After dinner, Xi Xi had Liu Song teach her to chop firewood and was out there now too.

Stars were always striking.

But Hong Long was far from flashy, though her earthiness had a spark—maybe from that vintage Dayang motorcycle’s cool factor, from some bygone era.

Or her retro jacket. Or Wu Xiaoqing’s childish little backpack. Or the way Hong Long had carried her down.

Liu Song let out a “Whoa”: “It’s like something out of a Hong Kong flick.”

Xi Xi noticed the red-skirted woman’s legs and looked surprised.

Yan Muyu stepped up, throwing an arm around Hong Long’s shoulders companionably—only for Wu Xiaoqing to shove her away without ceremony. “Don’t you dare hug my Longlong.”

Yan Muyu: …

Pretty possessive.

But she found it amusing. “Fine, fine, no hugging.”

Hong Long chuckled and handed Wu Xiaoqing her crutches, letting her toddle toward Qiu Chao.

Qiu Chao had changed into a fresh cardigan. She’d just crossed the threshold when Wu Xiaoqing called out, “Xiao Qiu!”

Liu Song asked Qiu Chao, “Didn’t you just meet her at noon? Already this chummy?”

Wu Xiaoqing was cute, baby-faced. But she had that rustic innocence too, staring at Liu Song’s highlighted hair forever.

Finally, she asked Qiu Chao, “Is she a foreigner?”

Liu Song: “I’m not.”

Wu Xiaoqing: “You’re a pretty foreigner.”

Liu Song: …

She wasn’t sure whether to say thanks or keep denying it.

Yan Muyu and Hong Long walked over. She introduced the two village folk who weren’t quite guests.

She asked Hong Long, “You folks usually turn in early, right?”

Whenever anyone questioned Hong Long, Wu Xiaoqing jumped in first: “Yeah, yeah! I was just about to soak my feet with Longlong.”

Village life got dull.

Sure, internet was everywhere now, signal was decent, but folks mostly just scrolled phones or played cards.

Hong Long was tighter than tight with money; she wouldn’t hit the neighbor’s for mahjong. At most, she’d watch Wu Xiaoqing play Landlord on her phone.

Wu Xiaoqing wasn’t great with smartphones—maybe she had her own little world since childhood, so boredom never hit.

Hong Long: “It’s fine. Truth is, she wanted to come out and play.”

The village only had so many souls. Wu Xiaoqing had seen outsiders before, but not stunners like Qiu Chao.

That evening, after Hong Long got back from tea picking, she’d chattered nonstop.

Days blurred together without much change, so today’s excitement had her buzzing. Perfect timing for Yan Muyu’s call—Wu Xiaoqing had nagged Hong Long to head out ASAP.

Wu Xiaoqing grabbed Qiu Chao’s hand. “You didn’t nail it, huh?”

Her eyes sparkled, stirring instant affection. She glanced at the others inside, then hobbled to the kitchen on her crutches.

Qiu Chao followed.

Ding Yingxue stared blankly at Wu Xiaoqing and whispered to Qiu Chao, “Her legs…”

Qiu Chao had mentioned meeting Boss Wu and Boss Hong at lunch, but not this.

She patted Ding Yingxue’s shoulder, saying nothing.

The person in question didn’t seem to find her gaze pitiful. Brimming with pep instead, she cooed at Pei Wan in the kitchen about the botched plum pork ribs.

She brought up green tea dumplings next, then nearly bolted out yelling—

“Longlong, I forgot the tea leaves!!”

No guest matched that energy; smiles tugged at everyone’s lips.

Hong Long: “I brought ’em.”

She grinned at Wu Xiaoqing, drawing a furrowed brow from Xi Xi, who seemed lost in thought.

Liu Song: “That’s a unique name.”

Hong Long smiled; she had a warm vibe. “I was born during a thunderstorm.”

Yan Muyu chatted with her a bit. Hong Long apparently hated biking over the hills and asked where to buy a used vehicle.

Motorcycle or scooter would do, but given the village roads, probably only a motorcycle.

Three-wheelers had range, but Yan Muyu thought they looked too clunky.

Hong Long: “They got ’em downhill.”

Yan Muyu just went, “Oh.”

The evening buzzed. Hong Long was a workhorse, even showing Liu Song the easy way to split logs.

Then she grabbed a flashlight to check the veggie patch, teaming with Yan Muyu to fix the fence.

【So pastoral, really.】

【Didn’t you see the cut on Sister Qiu’s collarbone?】

【???】

【Xiao Qing Boss is killer in the kitchen… but why’d she say she rarely cooks?】

【Those legs make it tough, hopping around like that. Boss Hong must ache for her.】

【Feels like they could do midnight snacks.】

【Boss Hong brought booze.】

【Pei Wan’s grilling her on brewing… but it’s not even season, right?】

In the kitchen, Qiu Chao and Pei Wan watched Xiao Qing mix her recipe.

Her voice was thick and nasal, but her movements were swift and sure. Unless the camera panned downward, there was no way to tell she was disabled.

Even less could anyone guess that she’d been married twice, that she’d weathered those lonely years with unkempt hair and grime-streaked skin.

That was just how people who were loved carried themselves—their every gesture unconsciously radiated happiness.

Qiu Chao and Pei Wan stayed silent, listening intently as the young Boss Wu Xiaoqing offered her guidance.

Wu Xiaoqing: “Do you still have a bunch of other dishes to learn?”

Pei Wan: “Guests are coming to eat.”

Wu Xiaoqing: “So you’re opening a restaurant?”

Qiu Chao: “Nothing that professional.”

【Hahahaha, she’s so cute.】

【You can’t even tell she’s older than Liu Song… She looks like a little sister.】

Wu Xiaoqing: “Then just keep it simple. I’m no master chef anyway.”

Pei Wan watched her skilled hands and asked, “When did you learn to cook?”

Only after the words left her mouth did Pei Wan remember that Qiu Chao had mentioned something about Boss Wu’s past that evening. She felt a pang of awkwardness.

Wu Xiaoqing, though, didn’t mind at all. She’d endured plenty of malice in her life and now cherished these rare moments of kindness.

She was one of those in her community with a keen intuition for people’s intentions—it helped her sort good from bad, even if she couldn’t fight back.

Besides, everyone loved beauty, and she found these people around her so attractive that her mood had naturally lifted.

Wu Xiaoqing: “When I was little.”

She even held out the back of her hand for Pei Wan to see. “See? Got this burn when I was little.”

Qiu Chao: “I figured your mom doted on you and wouldn’t let you…”

Wu Xiaoqing: “She was afraid I’d starve to death on my own.”

Her voice rang out clear and bright. “Mom had no idea—the people she hired to look after me weren’t half as good as the ones I’ve found for myself.”

There was a hint of sorrow in her words, sharp amid the clatter of bowls and chopsticks, like a fresh wound.

Yet the one saying it wore a beaming smile, as if she’d never known hardship.

From the kitchen window, they could see Yan Muyu outside, repairing the fence alongside Hong Long.

Yan Muyu was still a bit clumsy at it, and the sharp-eyed Wu Xiaoqing teased, “Your Little Yan is so hopeless. Not as clever as my Longlong.”

Pei Wan froze for a second. She glanced at Qiu Chao.

Your Little Yan?

【Boss Lady, what do you mean by that? You’re shipping them too, huh?】

【The ultimate lesbian-approved CP. How could you not stan?】

【Pei Wan: Straight girl’s confusion】

【Pull the other one—Pei Wan a straight girl? Feels more like bi. Anonymous forums were saying she’s an ex-girlfriend or something.】

【Boss Xiaoqing’s such a sweet soft girl.】

【Suddenly, this kind of daily life feels perfect… wuwuwu】

Surprisingly, Qiu Chao didn’t contradict her. Instead, she followed Wu Xiaoqing’s recipe to mix the dough for the green tea dumplings.

She let out a soft hum of agreement.

Qiu Chao could feel a faint ache in her collarbone—the spot where Yan Muyu had bumped into her on the rocking chair earlier.

The pain carried a lingering intimacy. Even now, with her chest tight and her heart heavy, Qiu Chao still found it sweet.

As she poured the water to scald the flour open, she thought: I will be this warm water, scalding away all of Yan Muyu’s stiffness.

Kneading her pliant and strong, all for me to devour.

Qiu Chao: “She’s my Little Yan, no mistake.”