"Ah——"
Song Xinya screamed, her face burning so hot it felt like it might smoke. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm giving you a bath, what are you doing?"
Qin Yuhe's tone was lazy. "You know you're bathing me, so why are your little hands wandering around?"
This was practically walking right into the trap.
Song Xinya's face was flushed crimson. "I won't grab you anymore, so don't grab me either."
Qin Yuhe slowly pulled his hand out, standing tall and straight with the air of a wealthy young master. "Hurry up and dry me off. I've been standing here waiting for a while."
Song Xinya reached into the drawer and pulled out a band-aid, sticking it over his navel. "It's a good Chinese tradition—the belly button mustn't catch cold."
Qin Yuhe: "..."
He let her do as she pleased.
When the wet towel in Song Xinya's hand reached Qin Yuhe's abdomen, a glint of surprise lit up her eyes.
"Qin Yuhe, your wound looks even better!"
The gash on his stomach was visibly healing at an astonishing rate.
Qin Yuhe said, "It should be fully healed in seven days."
Song Xinya looked up at him, her delicate chin brushing lightly against his abdominal muscles. "Seven days from now—isn't that when the stitches come out?"
Qin Yuhe replied in the tone of someone explaining basic knowledge to an illiterate person. "After the stitches are removed, it means the wound has healed enough for you to use your abdominal muscles and move around. Didn't you know that?"
Song Xinya blinked. Her thick, soft lashes stirred tiny currents of air against his abs, like feathers teasing his skin.
"The doctor said removing stitches only means the surface layer of skin has fused. The subcutaneous tissue still isn't strong enough, and the skin's tensile strength hasn't returned to normal. Exercising too soon or too intensely risks reopening the wound."
Qin Yuhe said, "The doctor was wrong. What I say is right."
Song Xinya wasn't stupid; she could tell he was just trying to fool her into going along with him.
"Let's talk about it after the stitches come out."
Qin Yuhe noted that she hadn't outright refused, so he just hummed in response.
After she finished drying his upper body and limbs, Song Xinya handed him the wet towel. "You can handle the rest yourself."
She walked out of the bathroom, her expression calm as usual, but Qin Yuhe caught sight of her reddened ears.
He peeled his underwear down with his fingers, the fabric sliding over his muscular thighs and slipping off his narrow ankles before being set aside on a rack.
She couldn't even bring herself to take off his underwear, and her face went red just from looking at his goods—and yet she still wanted him to wear a sling for her sake.
Honestly, bold in words but timid in action.
If he ever actually wore it, he'd worry it might just give her a heart attack from the shock.
Qin Yuhe finished washing and came out of the bathroom.
He saw that Song Xinya had already washed up in the other room and changed into a white silk V-neck nightgown.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her slender neck and pale arms bare in the air, her hands propping her up on either side as her delicate legs swung playfully back and forth.
When she saw him come out, her eyes lit up, and she ran toward him.
"I've been waiting for you. I wanted to change your medicine."
Her steps were light as she hurried to his side. Her soft arms wrapped affectionately around his waist, her shapely figure pressing against him.
From the bathroom to the double bed, it was only a few steps, but she clung to him like she was hanging off him, practically making him carry her along.
Qin Yuhe could feel that ever since he was injured in Bilaoshan, Song Xinya had become much closer to him.
The ideal marriage he'd imagined was one where they treated each other with respect but kept their distance.
But he had to admit, having Song Xinya cling to him like this felt pretty good.
His arms, which had been hanging at his sides, lifted to wrap around her waist.
His burning palm pressed against Song Xinya's waist, warmth spreading across her skin. His long hand enveloped most of the flesh on her back, holding it in his grasp.
They walked arm in arm, each holding the other's waist, until they reached the bed.
Song Xinya pressed down on Qin Yuhe's shoulders, making him lie down on the bed.
She sat down beside him, her hips on the bed, her legs bent outwards in a W-shaped kneeling position—a duck-sit posture.
This sitting position radiated a kind of cute innocence, yet it was also incredibly seductive.
Song Xinya twisted open the ointment, dipped a cotton swab in it, and began applying it to the wound on Qin Yuhe's abdomen.
Qin Yuhe let out a deep, prolonged groan.
Song Xinya's hand paused. "Does it hurt a lot?"
Qin Yuhe said, "It's not pain. It's sensitivity."
Song Xinya was confused. "What are you sensitive about?"
Qin Yuhe replied, "My wife is just too beautiful."
Song Xinya froze for a moment, then her lips curled into a smile.
"Be serious. I'm applying medicine for you."
Qin Yuhe's hand rested on her thigh. "It's not like we're at a political meeting—why so serious?"
Song Xinya didn't say anything more, letting his hand roam over her thigh.
After finishing the medicine, she swung her long leg across his face.
Still lying on his back, Qin Yuhe asked, "Do you really enjoy stepping over my face like that?"
Song Xinya pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. "Not really. It's just that stepping over your face is much more convenient than walking all the way around to your feet."
Qin Yuhe recalled that before, she used to walk around his feet, never this casual. Now she just threw her leg over and face-sat him without hesitation.
He reached out to turn off the lamp, but her hand grabbed his.
Song Xinya examined his palm carefully. "Did you go to the burn specialist today for scar treatment?"
Qin Yuhe said, "I did."
Song Xinya gently caressed his palm, her fingertips tracing the texture of the scar. "It seems a bit smoother."
Qin Yuhe said, "It'll get better. Everything will get better. Don't worry."
Song Xinya said, "It has to go back to how it was before."
Qin Yuhe comforted her, "It will."
She snuggled into his arms, like a sticky piece of malt candy.
He asked her, "Do you want me to turn off the light?"
She hugged him with both arms and said, "No. I want to look at you a little longer."
So he didn't turn it off, letting her cling to him.
Song Xinya gazed at Qin Yuhe with those irresistibly charming eyes, brushing her soft body against his chest and cooing, "You grabbed me so hard earlier—it's all swollen."
Qin Yuhe looked at the little vixen in his arms and licked his teeth. "Trying to seduce me?"
Song Xinya's fair fingers traced circles on his chest, her touch carrying just the right amount of pressure, both teasing and tempting. "Me? Seduce you? I'm just stating a fact—you really did grab me too hard."
Qin Yuhe said, "That rough, huh?"
Song Xinya hummed in confirmation.
Qin Yuhe said, "Lift your clothes. Let me see."
Song Xinya fell silent. She stopped purring, stopped tracing circles on his chest.
Qin Yuhe's thin lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Song Xinya, running your mouth is one thing, but if you've really got the guts, sit on me."
His wife—all talk, no action.
"You think I don't dare?!"
Song Xinya flipped over, swung her jade-like leg across, and straddled him.
