Xie Lin hadn’t expected Jiang Yunshu to be so stubborn—she’d rather fall than ask for his help.
He wanted to tease her, but he didn’t actually want her hurt.
Xie Lin slowly helped Jiang Yunshu up, his fingers gently pressing along her arms and legs. "Where does it hurt?"
Jiang Yunshu clenched her teeth, refusing to speak. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she’d start crying again.
When she remained silent, Xie Lin took matters into his own hands, his slender fingers gliding over her body to check for injuries. Satisfied that no bones were broken, he reached to straighten her robes.
The crimson hem of her dress frad her delicate ankles, her skin as pale and flawless as fine jade.
Jiang Yunshu couldn’t see, unaware of how she looked at this mont.
Xie Lin’s gaze flickered over the exposed sliver of her ankle, his eyes darkening briefly.
He adjusted her robes properly before scooping her into his arms and carrying her through the corridors to the bathing chamber.
The humid air greeted them, and Jiang Yunshu exhaled quietly in relief. She had wanted to bathe but hadn’t known how to bring it up to Xie Lin.
Yet she never imagined that Xie Lin wouldn’t just bring her here—he intended to bathe her himself.
When he pulled her close and began undoing the ties of her inner robe, Jiang Yunshu froze in shock.
She imdiately pushed at his chest. "N-no… I can wash myself—"
Xie Lin easily brushed aside her weak resistance.
"My lady is far too frail to bathe alone," he said, his voice firm.
"If you slipped into the pool, too weak to stand, you could drown."
Jiang Yunshu thought he was exaggerating. The bath wasn’t deep enough for that.
But then Xie Lin added, "Even if you didn’t drown, if water got into your eyes, I might not be able to save you."
Her hands stilled for a heartbeat.
Xie Lin set her down on a red jade divan beside the pool and stepped away to retrieve sothing.
The delicate clink of porcelain reached Jiang Yunshu’s ears, followed by the sound of water trickling into a basin.
Why was he filling a bowl when she was about to bathe?
The splash of a damp cloth being wrung out made her tense.
Then, Xie Lin’s fingers returned to the ties of her undergarnts.
"W-wait! What are you doing?" she stamred, clutching at her thin robe.
Xie Lin’s tone was matter-of-fact. "Cleaning you, my lady."
Her face burned. "C-clean what? The bath will wash everything away!"
"Impossible," he countered. "You’re too soiled to enter the pool directly."
The bluntness of his words made her wish she could vanish.
She couldn’t bring herself to refuse outright, but she absolutely couldn’t let him do this.
"I—I’ll do it myself—"
Xie Lin tsked. "Do you want to fall again?"
"Taoye! Zhezhi! Call Xiazhi and Xiaoman!" Jiang Yunshu blurted out, desperate for any maid—anyone but Xie Lin.
"They’re all occupied," he said, his voice leaving no room for argunt. With effortless ease, he moved her hands aside.
The damp cloth pressed against her skin.
Blind as she was, her senses had sharpened. She heard every drop of water falling from the cloth, the quiet rustle of fabric—
A sharp snap echoed in her mind—the last thread of her composure breaking.
Her voice trembled. "No… please, Lord Xie… Taoye, Zhezhi, Xiazhi, Xiaoman—"
Xie Lin’s tone turned stern. "Unacceptable. No maid may do this."
"Only I am permitted to serve you this way, my lady."
His touch lost its gentleness—a punishnt for her defiance.
By the ti Xie Lin carried her into the bath, Jiang Yunshu had no strength left to resist.
Water splashed rhythmically as Xie Lin swept the cloth through it.
She wondered if it was the sa one he’d used earlier—he was so fastidious, surely he’d changed it?
His fingers combed through her dark hair, massaging her scalp with ticulous care.
"Does my lady find my touch satisfactory?"
"Have I missed any part of you?"
"Do you enjoy my service, my lady?"
Every word was laced with reverence, yet his actions were anything but.
"D-don’t call that…" she whispered.
Xie Lin refused. "Impossible. You are a lady by imperial decree. I cannot disrespect your title."
A lady by decree… now at his rcy. Jiang Yunshu seethed, certain he was reveling in this.
In a burst of frustration, she tilted her head up and silenced him with her lips.
She didn’t care how—she just needed him to stop talking.
Dazed, she barely registered being dried and carried back to the bedchamber.
Without sight, every sensation amplified. The rustle of fabric, the mingling of their breaths, the growing heat of Xie Lin’s skin against hers—
Suddenly, she felt watched.
Was Xie Lin looking at her?
…What expression did he wear?
Half an hour later, he carried her back to the bath for a second washing.
When they returned to the bed, Jiang Yunshu collapsed into the pillows, unsure whether she’d fainted or simply succumbed to exhaustion.
Later, Xie Lin towel-dried her hair, then carefully dried it further with a censer’s warmth.
In her haze, a thought flickered—this Nine Thousand-Year-Old Lord, whose power rivaled the emperor’s, shouldn’t be performing such nial tasks.
He had "served" her before, but never like this. A man of his station wouldn’t truly act as a servant, tending to her hair like a maid.
She must be dreaming.
Reviews
All reviews (0)