The bathtub at Xia He’s house was huge.
It might be that all bathtubs were this big; Jiang Yueming had no way to compare since his family didn’t have one.
He had only ever seen them on TV—square, white ceramic, with a metal drain.
He used to wonder whether lying down in something that looked like a box would actually feel comfortable.
It turned out to be extremely comfortable.
The one in front of him was more like a small swimming pool.
Installing something this large in a bathroom was nothing short of extravagant in a city where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold.
He had been lying in it for a while.
Only when he saw that enough time had passed did he reluctantly get up.
He changed into the fresh pajamas Xia He had prepared for him, slipped on the slippers, and opened the door.
Downstairs in the living room, a single floor lamp was on.
Its warm yellow light carved out a small, cozy world.
Xia He was sitting on the sofa, and the housekeeper called Aunt Chen had finally returned.
She stood beside Xia He, talking about something.
Jiang Yueming walked down the stairs, his footsteps soft.
When Aunt Chen noticed him, she gave him a small smile.
“Jiang, all finished washing up?”
Jiang Yueming nodded, a little embarrassed.
Xia He patted the sofa cushion beside her, motioning for him to come over.
Aunt Chen’s gaze followed Jiang Yueming as he walked to the sofa and sat down next to the young miss.
The distance between them wasn’t too close, but it wasn’t far either.
The young miss made no move to pull away. She even shifted slightly toward him.
Aunt Chen swept her eyes over Jiang Yueming once more without showing any reaction, then let her gaze settle back on Xia He’s face.
“Young miss, I’ll go rest now.”
“Mhm. Good night, Aunt Chen.”
“Good night.”
Aunt Chen took a couple of steps, then glanced back at Jiang Yueming.
“Good night, Jiang.”
“Good night, Aunt Chen,” Jiang Yueming answered obediently.
Once Aunt Chen left, the living room fell quiet.
The floor lamp cast their shadows onto the wall—two silhouettes separated by a small gap, each resting in silence.
“Your hair isn’t dry yet,” Xia He said.
Jiang Yueming instinctively touched his hair. It was still a little damp.
“It’s fine. It’ll dry on its own in a bit.”
“You’ll get a headache,” Xia He stood up, rummaged through a cabinet on the other side for a moment, and pulled out a white hair dryer. “Turn around.”
“It’s okay, I can do it myse—”
“Turn around.”
Xia He’s tone left no room for refusal. Jiang Yueming obediently turned so his back faced her and listened to the hair dryer hum over his head.
Xia He’s fingers threaded through his hair, moving unhurriedly, like someone patiently smoothing the creases in an old book.
As she worked, her gaze somehow drifted to the back of his exposed neck, then lower, sliding over the collarbone visible where his pajama top was slightly open.
Only after confirming he couldn’t see her did she allow herself a couple more glances.
Jiang Yueming felt Xia He’s gentle movements and squinted in comfort.
So this was what it felt like to be taken care of. He really liked it.
The hair dryer buzzed for two minutes and soon his hair was completely dry.
“All done,” Xia He said with satisfaction, giving his hair a final ruffle. “No chance of catching a cold now.”
“Thanks.”
“Why so formal?”
Xia He set the hair dryer aside and sat back down on the sofa.
This time she sat even closer than before, her thigh almost touching his.
Jiang Yueming felt the warmth and his body stiffened slightly, but he didn’t move away.
He realized he was starting to get used to her closeness.
The thought made him a little flustered—and brought a strange, hard-to-describe sense of anticipation.
“I just think… you’re really good to me,” Jiang Yueming said, a little dazed.
Xia He giggled. “Are there a lot of people who are this good to you?”
“Not many,” Jiang Yueming shook his head. “You’re one of them.”
“Hee hee.” Xia He gave a sly smile, suddenly wanting to tease him.
“Aren’t you afraid I’m tricking you?”
Jiang Yueming blinked. “Tricking me how?”
“By being good to you, of course. Aren’t you scared I’m actually a human trafficker who’s trying to kidnap and sell you off?”
Xia He made a fierce face, curling her fingers like a kitten pretending to be scary.
Jiang Yueming laughed, the corners of his mouth lifting.
“Who’s selling who is still up in the air, and you couldn’t trick me anyway.”
“I couldn’t?”
“You couldn’t.”
“Really?”
Xia He’s breathing slowed.
She stared at Jiang Yueming without blinking, the floor lamp’s light reflecting in her pupils.
“Then what if one day you find out you really have been tricked?” Her voice grew softer.
“What would you do? Would you be really angry?”
Jiang Yueming hadn’t expected her tone to turn serious so suddenly. He was a little lost.
“That depends on the situation.”
“How would you split it?”
“If the person only tricked me about something unimportant, I probably wouldn’t bother making a fuss.”
Xia He paused, then asked, “What if it was something really important?”
“Like what?”
“Like…” Xia He’s eyelids lowered slightly. For some reason she couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Tricking you about your feelings.”
The air suddenly grew quiet. Jiang Yueming didn’t know how to answer her.
He had no experience in this area.
He had been single since birth and had never tasted what it felt like to have his feelings deceived.
Looking at the way Xia He had shifted her gaze, an inexplicable panic rose in his chest.
“I’d probably… be pretty angry.”
Xia He gave a soft “Mhm” after hearing his answer, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
The two of them fell silent.
Jiang Yueming tried to guess what she meant by those words, and an idea he didn’t want to face rose from the bottom of his heart.
“It’s getting late. I’m going to take a shower,” Xia He stood up.
“…Mhm.”
The topic ended and the atmosphere instantly turned awkward. Jiang Yueming scratched his head, confused.
Xia He walked a few steps, then stopped. She didn’t turn around; only her voice drifted back.
“Jiang Yueming.”
“Mhm?”
“If…” she emphasized again, “I mean, if… if the person who tricked you was me?”
Jiang Yueming blinked, watching her back as she stepped out of the warm circle of lamplight and looked a little frail in the darkness.
After thinking for a moment, he smiled.
“I don’t think you’d trick me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have anything worth tricking me for,” Jiang Yueming said.
“No money, no power, average looks, terrible grades. If you really tricked me, you’d be the one losing out. The return on investment wouldn’t be worth it.”
He made a joke, expecting her to giggle like she usually did, but Xia He didn’t laugh.
She stayed standing there with her back to him.
“I wouldn’t be losing out either, would I? A girl like you—how many people wish they could be tricked by someone like you and never get the chance?”
“Mhm.”
Xia He answered softly, her mood clearly low.
“And if it really was you who tricked me—”
Xia He’s heart rose into her throat. The whole world seemed to fade away, leaving only empty space and Jiang Yueming’s next words.
“I’d gladly let myself be tricked.”
Xia He’s back froze.
Her entire body seemed to hit pause.
She stood motionless at the foot of the stairs.
In the living room the sound of raindrops falling on leaves outside the window could be heard—fine, continuous, like an endless song.
Xia He slowly turned around.
Her expression was strange, as if she wanted to smile and cry at the same time.
The corners of her mouth curved in a contradictory arc.
She only felt a sour sting rush straight to the tip of her nose, then surge upward into her eyes, turning them damp and ready to overflow at any moment.