Chapter 54: ◎When Did You Learn to Play Hard to Get Too?◎

The next morning.

Zhou Hui dragged herself out of the guest room, rubbing her pounding head as she stumbled out the door. When she reached the stairwell, she noticed that the door to her own bedroom next door was ajar. Through the narrow gap, her eyes landed squarely on the underwear scattered across the bed.

As if compelled by some unseen force, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was empty. Staring at the vacant space, memories of Yu Bai’s abrupt departure the last time flooded back into Zhou Hui’s mind.

Her gaze drifted back to the underwear on the bed, and the uneasy thought dissipated. A flush crept up to her ears.

She heard a faint noise from the bathroom—no sound of running water.

Moments later, the doorknob turned from the inside.

Click—

Yu Bai emerged wearing slippers, a towel in hand as she dried her damp hair.

Zhou Hui looked up at the sound, staring at her in a daze for a full half-minute before snapping out of it. She yanked her gaze away, swallowed hard, and felt her entire face heat up.

Yu Bai was clad in nothing but one of Zhou Hui’s T-shirts. The hem skimmed the tops of her thighs, her graceful curves teasingly visible beneath the fabric.

Noticing Zhou Hui’s reaction, Yu Bai arched a brow. She paused in toweling her hair, glanced at the disarray on the bed, then turned back with a faint smile. “All my clothes reek of booze—I can’t wear them. Mind if I borrow something for the day, Officer Zhou?”

Zhou Hui’s breathing grew heavier. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Yu Bai’s smooth, flawless skin. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, then pointed rigidly at the wardrobe. “…Help yourself.”

Yu Bai brushed past her and leaned casually against the wardrobe door. The tilt of her head brought her eyes level with Zhou Hui’s, and she murmured softly, “One piece will do, Officer Zhou.”

Zhou Hui shivered, tugging at her collar. Then Yu Bai spoke again. “I just didn’t expect…”

Zhou Hui blinked. “?”

Straightening a little, Yu Bai propped her chin on one hand, looking thoughtful. “You actually own more than a dozen identical outfits.”

“…” Zhou Hui pursed her lips. “I’ll go make breakfast.”

Yu Bai watched her retreating back, pausing in place for a beat before shrugging with a smile and following along. “I’ll join you.”

In the kitchen, Zhou Hui fired up the stove and set some porridge to boil.

Yu Bai, swimming in the oversized T-shirt, leaned against the marble countertop. She glanced at Zhou Hui’s back, a soft smile playing on her lips.

As Zhou Hui bustled about, Yu Bai grew bored and began idly inspecting the kitchenware. Her eyes settled on the cutting board; she picked up a soup ladle and studied it with exaggerated seriousness for a moment before turning to ask earnestly, “Need any help?”

Zhou Hui glanced over her shoulder. Yu Bai seemed fascinated by every item in the kitchen, her eyes alight with curiosity and a touch of unfamiliarity. Zhou Hui let out a quiet breath. “Do you even know how to cook? Never mind—I’ll handle it. Just sit tight and wait for breakfast.”

Yu Bai set the ladle down, her expression flickering as she raised a brow with a grin. “I wasn’t planning on cooking. Just asking…”

Zhou Hui eyed Yu Bai’s beaming face, her own breath catching with a mix of exasperation. “Why don’t you head to the living room and keep yourself busy?”

Yu Bai tilted her gaze upward, nodding thoughtfully. “Solid advice. Actually, I came in here to ask—where’s your hairdryer? I didn’t see one in your room.”

“It’s not in there… Let me think.” Zhou Hui pondered for a moment, then quirked a brow. “Guest bathroom?”

“I’ll check.” Yu Bai pushed off the counter, flashing Zhou Hui a light smile before heading to the guest room.

Zhou Hui watched her go, her own raised brow faltering.

Five minutes passed with no sign of Yu Bai returning. Zhou Hui called out toward the door, “Yu Bai, find it yet?”

No answer. She set down the half-chopped vegetables and stepped out. Just as she nudged the kitchen door open, Yu Bai descended the stairs in her slippers, approaching with a curved smile. “Not there either.”

Zhou Hui’s eyes dropped. Yu Bai’s hair ends were still dripping, soaking the front of the T-shirt. The climb up and down had left her slightly breathless, her curves shifting subtly beneath the damp fabric.

Zhou Hui stiffened, drawing in a sharp breath. “Forget it. I’ll look.”

Yu Bai caught every nuance of that fleeting reaction. She lowered her eyes with a faint smile and trailed after her into the living room.

“Not here…” Zhou Hui pulled open the first drawer of the TV cabinet. It was stuffed with health supplements and gadgets for elderly morning exercises.

Yu Bai leaned over from behind her and pulled open the second drawer. The contents were much the same as the first—nothing but old-fashioned official-issue supplies. She couldn’t help turning to Zhou Hui with a grin. “By the way, how come your house is full of these antiques? You sure there’s actually a hairdryer in here?”

The whole room was furnished with redwood pieces, and there on the TV cabinet sat an enamel mug—a perfect setup straight out of some retired cadre’s playbook.

Zhou Hui paused in what she was doing and glanced up, meeting Yu Bai’s teasing gaze. She looked a touch helpless. “I’m sure.”

With that, she tugged open the third drawer right beside her. There lay the hairdryer. Zhou Hui arched a brow at Yu Bai.

Seeing the look on her face, Yu Bai pressed her lips together in a smile, fished out the hairdryer, and plugged it in. She glanced back at the enamel mug on the TV cabinet, then lifted her eyes to meet Zhou Hui’s. “I remember Director Zhou’s only in his early fifties, right? This family style of yours…”

Zhou Hui watched the curiosity lighting up Yu Bai’s eyes as she took in every detail of the house. With a slight sigh, she explained, “This is the house my grandfather left behind before he passed. Of course it’s got all this stuff.”

Yu Bai nodded in sudden understanding, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she gazed at Zhou Hui. “No wonder.”

Zhou Hui’s own brows curved in a smile. She stood and said, “Feel free to poke around at anything that catches your eye. I’m heading to the kitchen—the porridge is about to boil over.”

As she stepped away, she paused and turned halfway back. Her gaze dropped to Yu Bai’s damp hair, and her voice softened. “Dry your hair first, or you’ll catch a chill.”

Yu Bai froze for a split second. She watched Zhou Hui’s retreating figure, the corners of her eyes curving almost imperceptibly. Then she picked up the hairdryer and flicked it on.

A quarter of an hour later, as Zhou Hui emerged from the kitchen with the porridge, Yu Bai had just finished drying her hair and was sliding the hairdryer back into the drawer.

Zhou Hui took in the sight of Yu Bai’s long, soft waves cascading over her shoulders. Morning sunlight spilled across her flawless skin, softening her features into something almost surreal—like a world-renowned masterpiece.

Hearing her footsteps, Yu Bai turned with a smile, rose to her feet, and headed to the table. “I’ll serve the porridge.”

Zhou Hui was still lost in that living painting, her expression a little distant. She stood by the table without moving, her gaze drifting slowly over Yu Bai.

Yu Bai let out a soft sigh, tilting her head slightly. A gaze laced with the faintest hint of amusement settled on Zhou Hui’s face. She narrowed her eyes and extended her hand, her tone gentle and low. “Hand me the ladle, Officer Zhou.”

Zhou Hui’s ears tingled at the words. She snapped back to herself, her eyes darting over Yu Bai before landing on the ladle in her own hand. A faint blush crept across her cheeks as she passed it over. “I’ll go grab the cold dishes and fried dough sticks.”

Yu Bai blinked down at the ladle in her hand, then at Zhou Hui’s flustered footsteps. She bit back a smile and ladled out two bowls of steaming porridge.

When Zhou Hui returned from the kitchen, Yu Bai was already seated at the table, her eyes brimming with irrepressible mirth. Her mood seemed bright—if one ignored the unnatural pallor of her complexion, everything looked perfectly fine.

She accepted the fried dough sticks Zhou Hui handed her, but her gaze lingered on the other woman’s face. Setting the sticks down, she asked with mild puzzlement, “Not rushing off to work today?”

Zhou Hui rubbed at her brow, propped an elbow on the table, and let out a heavy breath. She eyed Yu Bai’s equally weary eyes with helpless exasperation. “Come on, missy—have you forgotten how late you were tossing and turning last night? Check your watch.” She tapped her wrist. “It’s almost eleven in the morning. What shift?”

Yu Bai seemed to recall a fragmented snippet from the night before. The amusement in her eyes faded slightly as her fingers drifted slowly to her forehead. She chose her words with care. “This… must’ve been another hassle for you, Officer Zhou. Your job…”

Zhou Hui watched the shift in her expression, a smile tugging at her lips. She waited a deliberate beat before replying, “Actually, I’ve been on annual leave lately. No work.”

Yu Bai paused mid-motion, her hand dropping from her forehead. Her breath caught, and she shot Zhou Hui a startled laugh. “Tch—you’ve gone and learned the art of playing coy.”

Zhou Hui peered into those dark eyes, where her own smiling face was reflected back at her. She didn’t bother hiding her grin. Her gaze intensified just a fraction as she murmured, “After dealing with you this long, I’d have to show some progress.”

Yu Bai leaned back slightly, drawing in a half-breath. She arched a brow with a light chuckle, conceding the point. “Fair enough.”

Her smile deepened then, brighter than before. She propped her elbows on the table and leaned in closer, her voice soft. “So, Officer Zhou—what else have you picked up from crossing paths with me?”

Zhou Hui’s smile hadn’t fully faded. Her clear, bright eyes flicked toward Yu Bai as she leaned in too, her gaze locking steadily onto the other woman’s. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself. We’ve got plenty more chances to tangle in the future—like right now.”

Yu Bai gazed into Zhou Hui’s clear black-and-white eyes, her breath catching for a moment. Her fingertip gently rubbed the fabric of her clothes as she nodded with a faint, ambiguous smile. “So, when does Officer Zhou’s vacation end? Not thinking of taking some time off to relax?”

“It ends at the beginning of next month—still half a month to go.” Zhou Hui lied with a calm expression on the surface, though her heartbeat quickened unconsciously. She stirred the porridge in her bowl with a spoon and stole a glance at her while lifting her head. “Besides, I don’t take vacations.”

Yu Bai noticed the subtle shift in her expression, along with the slight rise and fall of her chest. The corner of her eye twitched as a whirlwind of emotions flashed through her. She lowered her gaze, licked her lips, and looked up just in time to meet Zhou Hui’s expectant stare. Her own breath deepened, a soft glow rising in her eyes. “Then… could Officer Zhou take me in? I don’t have anywhere to stay right now. My place has some hardware problems and is under renovation.”

That low, velvety voice made Zhou Hui’s heart skip a beat. She tamped down the surge of excitement in her throat and tried to keep her tone steady. “Then you’ll sleep in my room? I’ll head out in a bit and pick up some daily essentials for you.”

Yu Bai’s lips curved into a gentle smile, her eyes locking onto Zhou Hui’s. “Go together?”

Zhou Hui had already planned to swing by the City Bureau first to apply for the annual leave she’d accrued over the past two years. Having just lied, she couldn’t let Yu Bai tag along. She ducked her head, rubbing her nose to mask her guilt. “You… rest up a bit longer at home. I’ll go by myself. Just make me a shopping list.”

Yu Bai smiled softly and didn’t press the issue.

After breakfast, Zhou Hui washed the dishes, then headed upstairs for a shower and to change clothes before heading out.

Yu Bai settled onto the living room carpet, continuing her examination of the house’s collection of antique curiosities.

She cradled the old radio perched atop the TV cabinet—roughly half the size of the screen itself—turning it this way and that. Even after fiddling with the dial, all she got was static.

“That radio’s been busted for years. You won’t get anything out of it.”

Yu Bai turned at the sound of the voice. Zhou Hui was coming down from the second floor in a white T-shirt and black sweatpants, a towel slung over her shoulder. She pointed at the relic on the TV cabinet. “The DVD player still works, though. Discs are in the drawer—if you’re bored, feel free to dig some out.”

With that, she gave her damp hair a couple of quick rubs, tossed the towel over the back of the sofa, and crouched down to lace up her shoes. She was clearly good to go.

Yu Bai glanced at the slightly overgrown strands framing Zhou Hui’s ears, casually swept aside, with the nearly shoulder-length ends still dripping, darkening a patch of the cotton fabric on her shoulder. She slid open the drawer, pulled out the hairdryer, and spoke in a warm tone. “Won’t you dry it before you head out?”

“Nah, I don’t need to.” Zhou Hui finished tying her laces, brushed her bangs aside, and flashed her a grin. “It’ll dry on the way.”

Yu Bai arched an eyebrow faintly, nodded, and returned the hairdryer to the drawer.

By the time Zhou Hui pulled up to the gates of the City Public Security Bureau, a bubble of excitement was rising in her chest. She idled in the car for a couple of minutes, killed the engine, and then strode toward the building.

In the corridor, she bumped into Little Liu from the Technical Department, who was heading to the lab with some evidence for analysis.

He did a double take when he spotted her. “Captain Zhou? Back already? Didn’t your vacation end tomorrow?”

Zhou Hui swung her car keys idly, a grin tugging at her lips. “Nope. Here to get Bureau Chief Zhang to approve some leave—gonna cash in the two years’ worth I’ve got saved up all at once.”

Little Liu’s face lit up with curiosity, like he’d stumbled onto buried treasure. “Whoa! Captain Zhou, the eternal workaholic’s turned over a new leaf? Proactively asking for time off?” He gave her an appraising once-over, then couldn’t resist the urge to gossip. Nudging her elbow, he dropped his voice conspiratorially. “Tsk tsk, spill it, Captain. Got a new situation going on?”

Zhou Hui shut it down instantly. “Nope.”

Little Liu scooted closer, giving her a playful poke. “Aw, come on, Captain. Don’t be shy! I swear, my lips are sealed. Tell me—I promise I won’t breathe a word to those field ops chatterboxes. Those guys gossip worse than…”

Zhou Hui shoved him aside, her mouth twitching. “What new situation? In your dreams. Go do your job.”

Little Liu chuckled and kept at it. “Captain, I’m in no rush.”

“…” Zhou Hui shot him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You’ve been around Sun Ye too long—you’re both regressing. Outta my way; Bureau Chief Zhang’s about to clock out.”

She bolted before he could respond, taking the stairs two at a time straight to Zhang Yunan’s office.

She knocked, and the old boss—peering through reading glasses at an ancient case file on his desk—frowned when he saw who it was. “Zhou Hui? What’re you doing here? I told you to take the full seven days off. No cases on the docket right now—go home and stay put.”

Zhou Hui stood before Zhang Yunan’s desk and handed him the leave request form. With the utmost seriousness, she declared, “Seven days of vacation isn’t enough. I want another half month—might as well use up all the annual leave I skipped over the past two years.”

Zhang Yunan nearly choked, locking eyes with her in a staring contest that lasted a full minute. Finally, he managed to sputter, “You… you’re heading home to get married? Isn’t that much time off plenty?”

“…” Zhou Hui’s face twisted in frustration, as if she were suffering from severe constipation. “Just tell me if you’ll approve it or not!”

Zhang Yunan burst into hearty laughter. “Then you’ll have to let Bureau Chief Zhang know—are you seeing someone?”

Zhou Hui threw up her hands in exasperation. “No! I just want a simple break for myself. Come on, Bureau Chief Zhang, sign it already!”

“Alright, alright. I won’t pry into you young folks’ business.” Zhang Yunan uncapped his pen and signed his name with a flourish.

Zhou Hui flashed a cheeky grin as she snatched back the form. “Thanks, Bureau Chief Zhang!”

For the first time, Zhou Hui found the prospect of a half-month vacation utterly delightful. She detoured to the supermarket near City Bureau headquarters first, stocking up on daily essentials that Yu Bai would need soon, along with extra snacks and fresh fruit. Her mood buoyant, she drove home in high spirits.

When Zhou Hui arrived at the front door, laden with two bulging bags, thoughts of Yu Bai waiting inside brought a smile to her lips once more.

She fished her keys from her pocket and unlocked the door. The room was shrouded in darkness, the curtains drawn tight.

Standing in the entryway, a vague heaviness settled in Zhou Hui’s chest.

Then, piercing the stale air came a series of shrill feminine screams: “Aaaah—!”

What the hell?!

Her heart plummeted. She dropped her bags and bolted inside without thinking. “Yu Bai!”