Chapter 70

Xixi’s chubby little fingers picked up a Lego brick and handed it to Rong Jin. Her big eyes blinked as she looked at her. “Auntie, why do you and Mommy always sneak peeks at each other?”

Rong Jin was placing the positive and negative electrodes connected to the battery into the belly of the Cat Night Light. When she heard this, her steady hand trembled, nearly reversing the electrodes and ruining the entire power setup.

Xixi was too young to understand the twists and turns between adults.

She just found it strange.

Since Auntie Rong Jin liked Mommy, and Mommy liked Auntie, why didn’t they just look at each other openly?

Why did they have to sneak glances?

However…

Rong Jin wondered, had Su Qingqiu been sneaking looks at her?

She hadn’t noticed.

Xixi tilted her head up to look at her, blinking her eyes. “During dinner just now, Mommy kept sneaking looks at Auntie. And while playing with toys, Auntie kept staring at Mommy. Xixi saw it all.”

“Why?”

Rong Jin pinched her cheek.

Why indeed?

Because she didn’t want Su Qingqiu to notice her looking.

It was like a staring contest—whoever gave in first lost.

Rong Jin silently connected the positive and negative electrodes to the bulb and battery. The light flickered on.

Xixi’s eyes widened. “The light’s on! Auntie, you’re amazing!”

Rong Jin had also dug out a big fluff of white plush from the playroom and stuck it bit by bit onto the night light.

Xixi was captivated by the glowing light and stopped caring about the sneaking glances. She watched eagerly as Rong Jin finished the entire Cat Night Light.

“All done. Do you like your Cat Night Light, Xixi?”

“Xixi loves it! Thank you, Auntie!”

Rong Jin was handy and had a talent for drawing. The Cat Night Light looked just like Milk—pure white all over, with blue painted eyes. It was gorgeous.

Xixi hugged the Cat Night Light tightly and ran out of the playroom in her slippers, pattering away. She bumped right into Su Qingqiu, who had returned.

“Mommy, look! Auntie made this light for Xixi.”

Su Qingqiu stroked her head, her gaze falling on the night light. She smiled. “It’s late, Xixi. Time for a bath and bed. Mommy’s drawn the bathwater. Let Aunt Zhao wash you, okay?”

Xixi asked puzzledly, “Mommy’s not giving Xixi a bath anymore?”

Su Qingqiu usually bathed her herself.

She glanced at Rong Jin, still sitting on the floor, and finally got it. She nodded obediently. “Okay.”

She thought, Mommy wants to bathe Auntie Rong Jin, so she can’t do Xixi. But Xixi can be understanding.

Xixi scampered off to find Aunt Zhao. “Aunt Zhao, Xixi wants to bathe with Milk!”

Rong Jin brushed the fluff off her hands, gripped the wheelchair, and slowly stood on her one good leg. She then tried to shift herself onto the wheelchair.

Su Qingqiu wanted to help, but Rong Jin refused.

“Let me try by myself.”

Su Qingqiu could only watch from the side.

She watched as it took Rong Jin a long time to inch herself onto the wheelchair, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

Suddenly, Su Qingqiu said, “Do you want to take a bath too?”

Rong Jin looked up at her.

Su Qingqiu continued, “You’ve been busy all day. A bath would feel nice.”

Su Qingqiu eyed the dress Rong Jin was wearing. After her efforts, the neckline was disheveled, revealing a patch of snowy white skin and vague, alluring curves.

Su Qingqiu glanced once and felt scalded. She looked away.

Rong Jin said, “But my leg can’t get wet.”

If her leg couldn’t get wet, bathing was tricky—she could only wipe down.

Su Qingqiu offered, “Then let me wipe you down.”

The guest room fell silent.

Su Qingqiu had spoken quickly.

That had been her intention all along.

She figured that if Rong Jin was staying here long-term, even with a cast on one leg, she’d need to bathe eventually.

She didn’t want anyone else touching Rong Jin.

But right after saying it, she regretted it a bit.

Her tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth unconsciously, her brows furrowing in agitation.

Had she rushed again?

Rong Jin had only moved in last night, and now she was offering to wipe her body today.

What would people think?

Besides, Rong Jin’s injury was her leg, not her hands. For a simple wipe-down, she could do it herself.

The bathroom even had custom racks. If Rong Jin wanted a soak, with some help, she could manage.

Su Qingqiu hadn’t thought it through.

She always struggled to gauge the right distance when approaching someone. She lacked experience, overstepped, and botched it.

Especially with Rong Jin—it felt like advancing was wrong, retreating was wrong. She could only stand there awkwardly.

Like awaiting Rong Jin’s verdict.

Rong Jin looked at her for a long moment.

Su Qingqiu nearly turned to flee.

She dug her nails into her palm, lashes lifted, eyes on Rong Jin.

That gaze evoked fragile glass.

Rong Jin met her eyes, then suddenly smiled after a moment.

“Okay, wipe me down then.”

…

She wasn’t sure how things had progressed to this point.

Rong Jin lay prone across the bed, a large towel draped over her waist, covering everything above her thighs.

Dim light bathed her body, her skin seeming to shimmer with radiance. Her smooth, supple skin stretched out as she relaxed on the bed.

Su Qingqiu brought over a basin of hot water, soaked a towel in it—the water rippled gently. She wrung it out and stood by the bed.

The water was a bit too hot; the steam made her head fuzzy and feverish.

When Rong Jin had undressed earlier, she’d used fetching the water as an excuse to step out. By the time she returned, Rong Jin had positioned herself, sprawled out before her.

She bit her tongue.

This was a scene she wouldn’t dare dream of.

Calm down.

Stay calm.

You offered to wipe her yourself.

No backing out now.

Rong Jin turned her face sideways. Her long hair spilled over her bare, delicate back, trailing down her spine, partially hiding the rounded curves pressed into the sheets. Su Qingqiu caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye and felt her face heat up.

She gently laid the towel on Rong Jin’s back and wiped inch by inch, her fingertips sinking slightly—like stepping into a river of inevitable surrender.

Rong Jin sighed contentedly.

Su Qingqiu wasn’t great at this kind of caretaking; her touch was too light, as if handling a treasure that might shatter.

Rong Jin thought idly that she’d never imagined being treated like a treasure someday.

Rong Jin said, “You can press harder. It’s fine.”

“And I’ve seen you too, so we’re even. Don’t overthink it.”

Back when she was still Xixi, she’d shared a bed with Su Qingqiu for two nights.

She’d seen her in a camisole nightgown, which always shifted during sleep. She’d touched curves she shouldn’t have, and when held close at night, her nose filled with that sweet fragrance.

Su Qingqiu pursed her lips at her words, seemingly recalling those nights too. Her face flushed deeper, though what exactly crossed her mind was unclear.

After thoroughly wiping her back, the delicate skin there reddened slightly, steam rising.

Su Qingqiu wanted her to turn over but didn’t know how to ask.

Rong Jin spoke first. “Done with the back?”

Su Qingqiu nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see. “Mm.”

Rong Jin said, “Then I’ll flip over.”

The more visibly nervous Su Qingqiu got, the more relaxed Rong Jin became.

She flipped like a pancake, grabbing a towel from the bed’s edge to cover her chest, arms spread flat, letting Su Qingqiu take over.

Now she could see Su Qingqiu’s face.

She was the one naked, yet Su Qingqiu looked as if she’d been stripped.

Rong Jin found it amusing and met her eyes.

“Keep wiping.”

Su Qingqiu: “…”

Why did it feel like she was the one being teased, even though Rong Jin was the one lying there?

Su Qingqiu placed the damp towel on her arm. She bent at the waist, eyes downcast, earlobes and cheeks red. In the dim, ambiguous light, she seemed innocently pure.

She wiped up her arm, sliding past her waist and upward.

Rong Jin felt a tickle.

Her heart scratched like by a cat’s paw.

Su Qingqiu didn’t dare go higher or lower. Her wrist hovered midair, unsure.

She finally realized what a terrible idea wiping her down had been.

And Rong Jin was just gazing at her, silent.

Su Qingqiu looked away. “You do the rest yourself. I…”

Suddenly, the door burst open.

Xixi’s voice came from the doorway. “Mommy, Xixi’s done with her bath! Oh—”

“Shame on you!”

The door slammed shut again.

Rong Jin watched Su Qingqiu shift from flustered to mortified, her expressions changing rapidly. She decisively tossed the towel, strode out, and slammed the door behind her.

Rong Jin gazed at her retreating back, a smile tugging at her lips.

How had she never noticed how entertaining Su Qingqiu was before?

…

Su Qingqiu returned to her room, utterly defeated, took a shower, and before bed, quietly checked on Rong Jin.

The bedside lamp cast a dim glow.

Rong Jin was asleep.

Su Qingqiu glanced at the bedside. She’d left the basin there, but now it was spotless. No idea how Rong Jin had managed.

She thought she’d messed up again.

Su Qingqiu went to Xixi’s room.

Xixi clutched her little pillow, waiting solemnly.

“Mommy, that wasn’t right just now.”

Su Qingqiu: “…”

She wanted to cover her face again.

Xixi continued, “Auntie’s leg is still hurt. You can’t bully Auntie.”

Su Qingqiu: “…”

What was this nonsense?

Su Qingqiu said, “Mommy didn’t bully Auntie.”

Xixi’s bedside held the Cat Night Light Rong Jin had made, glowing dimly and illuminating one corner.

Su Qingqiu’s gaze swept over it, recalling Xixi’s fondness for Rong Jin.

“Does Xixi really like Auntie Rong Jin that much?”

Xixi nodded vigorously. “Auntie’s super cool and smart. And pretty.”

“Plus Mommy likes Auntie, so Xixi does too.”

Su Qingqiu fell silent.

After a moment, she hugged her and murmured, “You’re sharper than I thought.”