Chapter 12: Shower

The smoky bacon released some fat, seeping into the steaming white rice.

Sang Shen drizzled warm red vegetable soup over it. The pristine rice grains took on a faint red hue, clear and pretty like bayberry juice.

“Hm… tastes a bit bland.”

He sampled it.

“But in this heat, lighter might go down better.”

“…”

“Here, Yin Xing, I mixed yours for you!”

“…”

“Guaranteed delicious!”

“Can’t taste it anyway.”

Yin Xing took the spoon he offered, scooping a small bite of soup-soaked rice. She chewed instinctively.

“But it’s got texture, right? That crisp feel, and the rice grains are distinct, chewy—yeah?”

Yin Xing lowered her head, silent for a long time.

Sang Shen didn’t expect poetic praise, so he sat and shoveled several bites of red-tinted rice.

“When I was sick,” she swallowed her rice, speaking suddenly,

“no one cared. I couldn’t bear to order takeout, so I dragged myself up and cooked noodles.”

Sang Shen froze, puzzled.

“Your future girlfriend was so cold. Why stay with her?”

“…She always had good excuses.”

“You believed her every time?”

“…Maybe I was just fooling myself.”

Sang Shen licked his lips. A flood of comforting words flashed through his mind, but when he opened his mouth, he didn’t know which to pick.

“No matter what, I’ll cook for you. Maybe it’s not gourmet, but I’ll never leave you hanging. Never.”

Yin Xing slowly raised her head, eyes straining.

Her eyes were red, tears welling despite her efforts to hold them back. Large drops rolled down her cheeks.

Sang Shen quickly grabbed a pink tissue from the windowsill, offering it carefully.

Yin Xing turned her face away, her voice trembling but pretending calm.

“I’m not crying.”

“I know, it’s for the rice on your lip.”

“…”

“More red vegetable soup?”

“…Yeah.”

***

The rain came in waves.

The sky cleared now and then.

Yin Xing sat quietly by the window, watching Sang Shen bustle around her bed.

He was setting up the mosquito net. Without proper tools, it was a hassle to secure.

But once done, the summer would be comfortable—no more bugs flying in when the window was open, blocked by the net.

“Staring at me work must be boring, huh?”

Sang Shen, watched for ages, finally turned back, uneasy.

Silence answered him, as expected.

But she wasn’t unresponsive—after his words, her gaze shifted elsewhere.

“Setting up a mosquito net’s tough work. Sleeping on the floor’s easier.”

Sang Shen wiped sweat from his brow.

“But it’s almost done! You’ll sleep soundly tonight.”

“…”

“Though… you might not sleep great. But at least one distraction’s gone.”

Thinking of Yin Xing’s mental state, he felt he’d misspoken and hurried to fix it.

“Anyway, sleep’s important. Good sleep, good mood. Good mood, and everything gets better.”

As he spoke, the briefly clear sky poured again.

Damp air drifted in, heavy with summer’s humidity.

“It’s raining.”

Yin Xing spoke suddenly.

“Rain passes, then it’s clear.”

“Clear skies are just another kind of rain.”

“Death… is just another kind of living?”

“…Living is a kind of death.”

Yin Xing cupped her cheeks.

“Because you don’t know if this is the world after death.”

“If the afterlife has death, it’s the living world.”

“…”

Yin Xing stood in silence, leaning slightly by the window, staring at the lush tree shadows outside. She seemed to want to say something but stayed quiet.

“Haha, chatting philosophy’s kinda fun, though I don’t know what counts as philosophy.”

Sang Shen scratched his head, laughing.

“Maybe it’s stuff that sounds deep but confusing?”

“…Tired.”

“Feeling tired’s good, means you’re relaxed.”

Sang Shen always saw the bright side.

“Wanna shower and sleep well?”

“You wash me.”

“No way, me again? That’s… not great. You’re in a girl’s body now…”

“…Washing this body makes me want to puke.”

Sang Shen scratched his hair hard.

“How about closing your eyes while you shower?”

“Same thing.”

“Because of the touch?”

He nodded, struggling.

“Fine, I’ll help you wash…”

***

By the downstairs bathroom, Yin Xing tilted her head, watching Sang Shen blindfold himself with a towel.

“…?”

“Ahem, now I can’t see.”

“…”

“You might hate your body now, but it’s a pretty girl’s body. Uh… I mean, this way’s less intrusive. Even if you’re another me, I think… this is better.”

“When you respect others, do you think they’ll respect you?”

Yin Xing’s brows furrowed.

“Do you know, after I agreed to marry and do those things, I was judged…”

“I trust you’ll respect me. If I can’t trust you, who can I trust?”

Yin Xing’s words caught in her throat. She stared at Sang Shen, dazed, until he asked sheepishly—

“So you never actually… did anything with her?”

“…Yeah.”

“Then… she was still a vir—how could they judge you…”

“No one cared.”

“…Oh.”

“Shower.”

“Ahem, can you guide me to the bathroom? Put the body wash and shampoo by my hand, I’ll wash you…”

Blindfolded, barely seeing, Sang Shen didn’t reply. He felt a small hand gently grasp four of his fingers, leading him softly to the bathroom.

No words, but her actions somehow carried a deep, tender warmth…

He faintly heard her say something, but couldn’t make it out.

***

The old house had a water heater.

Not electric, but solar.

When the house was renovated, it was the most advanced thing in it.

A color TV wasn’t rare, but a solar water heater? First in the village.

Years later, it still worked, though the water flow was weaker. No electricity needed.

In sunny summers, you could use it freely.

If it was Sang Shen, he wouldn’t bother with hot showers in summer…

His hands moved inch by inch over Yin Xing’s smooth skin. Even through the towel, the sensation was vivid.

Blindfolding wasn’t smart. Without sight, other senses sharpened.

His imagination ran wild, painting a vivid picture—a bathing girl, bare.

From flat to curved, firm to soft…

Sang Shen felt his hands were sinful.

His body burned, despite the steamy air. He kept licking dry lips.

“Think I got everywhere? Now to rinse your hair…”

“…”

Yin Xing, watching the small bulge in his pants, turned her face away.

“Yeah.”

“Your hair’s so soft, with a bit of… strength and a fresh scent, like leaves.”

Since the bath started, Yin Xing was quiet.

Sang Shen was used to it, so talking to himself didn’t feel awkward. It eased his nerves.

Finally, he rinsed off the foam, wiping her dry with a wide towel.

“Phew—done. Clothes… you can dress yourself, right? I can’t see, so that’s… kinda tough…”

A soft sigh came from Yin Xing, followed by rustling sounds.

Soaked from head to toe, Sang Shen waited quietly until the rustling stopped.

“…Dressed?”

“…Yeah.”

He untied the towel, slowly opening his eyes. He only saw Yin Xing’s back in her school uniform, walking away.

“Going to bed? Sleep well! I’ll make food for when you wake!”

Her steps paused briefly, as if that was her reply.

“I’m soaked, gotta shower too…”

Sang Shen muttered, looking down. He spotted the conspicuous bulge and flushed.

“Uh…! No way, did Yin Xing see that… It’s that obvious…?”

***

The bathroom was silent, no water running.

But outside, the rain never stopped.

“Puji, puji, puji…”

“Uh… hah…”

Sang Shen’s body shuddered, his tense muscles relaxing. He hurriedly turned on the faucet, letting cold water wash his burning cheeks.

He’d just done something to feel good.

But his mind was full of Yin Xing.

At first, he imagined something happening during the bath.

Then it became Yin Xing, gravely ill, comatose in bed, while he did shameful things by her side…

Guilt overwhelmed him.

It was just imagination, but it felt as real as if he’d done it, shaming him.

Even as he criticized himself, worse images crept into his mind.

“What… am I even thinking?”

He gripped his hair, but his other hand couldn’t stop—

The bathroom’s water stopped.

The “puji, puji” sounds, like frogs hopping by a pond, echoed again…