His presence exuded a powerful aura, like a born king.
As Wen Xian walked in, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the hazy silhouette in the bathtub.
Enshrouded in mist, he seemed even more mysterious and elusive.
The curve of his profile was cold and resolute, perfect.
Below, his collarbones, and the strong, broad arms, were faintly visible.
Wen Xian was so captivated that she almost spaced out, tears nearly spilling from her mouth.
"What’s with the dawdling? You’re that reluctant?"
Suddenly, the man in the bathtub looked over. Through the blurring steam, his sharp eyes pierced through her, as if to see right through her.
Wen Xian’s legs nearly gave out as she hurried over, "I’m here, I’m here, how could I be reluctant? I’m more than willing."
However, just as she reached the edge of the bathtub, suddenly her feet slipped—
With a sharp scream, Wen Xian felt herself about to crash hard onto the ground, when suddenly her arm was grabbed and she was yanked forward, and the next second—
A large splash rose from the bathtub as she tumbled in.
Wen Xian involuntarily gulped down a few mouthfuls of bathwater; by the time she struggled to raise her head out of the water, she was soaked all over, coughing violently.
Wet hair clung to her cheeks, like a goddess emerging from water, though somewhat disheveled.
Because of her choking, her cheeks were red, with tears about to spill while she sat in the bathtub.
Opposite her, there he was—Captain Lu, stern and silent.
Lu Xiao looked at her, his lips parting slightly as he said flatly,
"I only asked you to help me scrub my back, yet here you are, drinking my bathwater, Wen Xian. I’ve underestimated you."
"Cough cough... You... cough cough!"
Wen Xian pointed at him, coughing even more fiercely now, her little face exceptionally red, whether from choking, embarrassment, or anger.
After saying this, Lu Xiao’s slender eyes scanned the nearby shelf, and his arm reached out to grab a white towel.
He leaned over, scooped up Wen Xian’s body a bit, cradled her small face with one hand, and wiped her drenched eyebrows and hair with the towel in his other hand.
As Wen Xian gradually recovered, her little chest still heaved slightly, her breath uneven. Staring at him with flushed cheeks, she retorted, "Wishful thinking, who wants to drink your bathwater?"
No matter how embarrassed she felt, or how wronged she was, she could not drink his bathwater.
With that remark, the movement of Lu Xiao’s hand wiping her down slowed, and eventually, he gently pinched her delicate jaw.
Under the hazy mist, the man opposite Wen Xian had his collarbones sharply defined, with smooth and perfect lines of muscle along his neck and shoulders, broad and strong, and in stark contrast to her slender and delicate skin, exuding an intense hormonal scent.
His features were stern and immaculate, as though he were God’s most perfect creation.
And now, as he pinched her jaw, his features drew closer, until at last, his heated breath landed on her cheek, mingling with hers.
Wen Xian felt her body go soft.
At that moment, she heard Captain’s low, husky voice, drawling,
"What’s wrong, doesn’t it taste good...?"
The heat seemed to redden Wen Xian’s cheeks, leaving her body all soft and limp—