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When Song Qinghuan finally relented, Lin Shishi felt as if an eternity had passed.
“So sweet.”
Song Qinghuan smirked, steadying her and tidying her rumpled skirt.
“How do you feel, my little pet?”
Lin Shishi didn’t even have the strength to glare at her.
She could only bury her burning face in the crook of Song Qinghuan’s neck, whimpering with a sob.
“How am I supposed to go back like this…”
“There’s no shower here, so it’s a bit troublesome.”
Song Qinghuan’s tone was light, as if she wasn’t the one who had just teased her until her legs gave way.
“But don’t worry. Later, after everyone in the ward is asleep, there’s a public bathroom on this floor. We’ll go shower together then, and you’ll be clean.”
“T-together?”
Lin Shishi jerked her head up, the flush on her face barely faded before rushing back. “No… I can’t! I don’t want to!”
“Be good.”
Song Qinghuan pinched her cheek, her voice gentle, but her eyes held an undeniable threat. “This is your mistress’s request. Don’t forget our contract. You wouldn’t want… certain little secrets to be known by others, would you?”
Lin Shishi stiffened and bit her lower lip.
Those words… she was destined to be under her thumb forever.
Once, it had been a genuine threat.
But now, the threat no longer mattered.
What remained was a sweet, indulgent favoritism.
Not that Lin Shishi was unused to it by now.
Seeing the girl “submit” once again, Song Qinghuan smiled contentedly.
Her fingers began to stray again, giving Lin Shishi a teasing pinch.
Only when Lin Shishi let out an uncontrollable gasp did she finally let her go.
“Alright, I’m going back to get my things. You go back to the ward and keep your aunt company. Wait for me.”
Song Qinghuan gave her a light peck on the lips.
Then she released her, straightened her slightly mussed hair and dress, unlatched the bathroom door, and walked out as if nothing had happened.
Alone, Lin Shishi stared at her reflection in the mirror—her face flushed, her hair disheveled.
A wave of shame washed over her again and again.
She took a few deep breaths before returning to the ward with a composed expression. She sat beside Lin Mo, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone.
An hour later, the ward door creaked open.
Song Qinghuan was back.
She had changed into a striking vermilion velvet slip dress, instantly capturing all of Lin Shishi’s attention.
The dress’s color was extraordinarily vivid, making her already fair skin look even more luminous, as if it glowed.
But what truly drew the eye were the matching red strappy stiletto sandals on her feet. They accentuated her already statuesque figure, her toes perfectly rounded and painted with the same bright red polish, glistening sexily under the light.
Song Qinghuan leaned against the doorframe, one hand casually sweeping back her slightly wavy hair, the other effortlessly holding a large suitcase that looked quite heavy.
Her posture was languid, alluring, yet carried an undeniable dominance—like a blazing rose with thorns, suddenly blooming in the ward.
Lin Shishi was stunned. She swallowed instinctively.
Her throat felt dry, her heart pounding uncontrollably.
This Song Qinghuan was aggressively beautiful, so beautiful it was impossible to look away.
Especially those feet in the red sandals—dazzlingly white.
The red at her toes was so provocative.
It reminded her of certain images…
Of course… images of herself being teased…
Beyond that, Lin Shishi was more curious why she had dressed so seductively so late at night… even… slutty…
Could it be… just to add to the mood?
And so, the delicate girl’s cheeks reddened again.
Song Qinghuan was clearly pleased with Lin Shishi’s reaction.
A faint smile curved her lips.
She dragged the suitcase in.
She made it look effortless, as if she were carrying an empty handbag rather than a packed case.
“Mist… Qinghuan, let… let me help!”
Lin Shishi hurriedly stood up from the small chair by the bed.
She scurried over and reached for the suitcase.
“No need. It’s too heavy; you can’t lift it.” Song Qinghuan shook her head, her tone firm.
Lin Shishi was taken aback.
She looked at Song Qinghuan’s easy grip, then at the suitcase.
Slightly disgruntled, she muttered, “But… you’re lifting it so easily.”
“Oh? Want to try?”
Song Qinghuan raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye.
She actually let go, turning the handle toward Lin Shishi.
Lin Shishi grabbed it with both hands.
But the moment Song Qinghuan released it, an unimaginable weight crashed down.
“Ah!”
Lin Shishi yelped, unable to hold it.
She stumbled forward, her knees buckling, nearly falling to the floor.
The suitcase hit the ground with a dull thud.
Her arms ached, as if they might snap.
“Ha ha ha ha…”
Song Qinghuan laughed.
She bent down, her red-nailed hands effortlessly helping Lin Shishi up.
“I told you it was heavy, silly.”
Lin Shishi steadied herself, staring at the suitcase in shock.
Then she looked at Song Qinghuan’s hand—still fair, not even a vein visible—utterly incredulous.
Her voice carried a whimper of grievance. “But why is it so easy for you?”
“Oh, you. Did you forget who I am?”
Song Qinghuan reached out and affectionately tapped Lin Shishi’s nose.
“I studied internal arts with the White-Browed Taoist nun for years—breathing techniques, energy circulation, body forging. I learned them all properly. Lifting this case is nothing.”
Lin Shishi slapped her forehead.
Song Qinghuan had indeed told her about this.
Thinking about it, Lin Shishi’s longing for such internal arts only grew.
Song Qinghuan stopped teasing her. She bent down, picked up the suitcase again, placed it on the empty space by the hospital bed, and unlatched it.
“Here, this bundle is yours.”
She pulled out a small cloth-wrapped bundle and untied it.
Inside were neatly folded undergarments of various styles and colors.
Song Qinghuan picked up a pale pink lace thong and dangled it in front of Lin Shishi.
Her voice dropped lower, laced with teasing amusement.
“I prepared over a dozen just for you. All kinds of styles.”
Then she leaned close to Lin Shishi’s ear and whispered, “Mainly because my little b*tch is a water sprite. What if you soak a whole pile like you did at my place last time? That would be awkward, wouldn’t it?”
“Who’s a… water sprite?! And what is a water sprite, anyway!”
Lin Shishi’s face turned bright red, like a boiled shrimp.
She glanced around nervously; luckily, her mother had closed her eyes again, and the woman in the next bed was asleep.
She reached to cover Song Qinghuan’s mouth, but the other girl deftly dodged, leaving Lin Shishi grasping only a strand of fragrant hair.
Having savored her embarrassment, Song Qinghuan laughed and said, “I also brought you a few casual outfits and pajamas. And—hmm—these snacks are to keep you entertained. But most importantly, these—”
She pulled out several beautifully wrapped gift boxes and bags.
“These are supplements for your aunt. Donkey-hide gelatin, egg white protein, beef jerky, instant bird’s nest, things like that. They’ll help with recovery and bone healing.”
Just then, Lin Mo conveniently woke up again.
Seeing Song Qinghuan piling those obviously expensive supplements on the bedside table, a look of surprise and emotion crossed her face.
****
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