Chapter 13 Bathing

Chapter 13: The Bath

The bathtub was more than half-filled with steaming hot water. The medicinal herbs had already been added, and the pungent scent of ginger, rising with the steam, made Jian Ru cough twice.

The room was stifling. Even in a thin jacket and trousers, Jian Ru was sweating profusely. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and called out to the small kitchen, "Xiao Ning, no more firewood—it’s hot enough."

Xiao Ning’s voice drifted back from outside, "Got it, Brother Jian! This is the last load for the stove."

Jian Ru hung the large cloths for drying hair and body on the nearby screen, then neatly folded his clean clothes onto a chair. With these preparations complete, he rolled up his sleeves and headed towards the bed where the Second Young Master was reading.

Earlier, while he and Xiao Ning were heating the water, the Second Young Master had tried to get up and help carry it. Alarmed, Jian Ru had quickly pressed him back onto the bed, tucking the blankets tightly around him.

This delicate, ethereal young master was as fragile as paper. After finally nursing him back to health, Jian Ru feared he might fall ill again from exhaustion or a chill. It wasn’t that Jian Ru minded caring for him—he was more concerned about the Old Madam’s disapproving gaze.

More importantly, illness was a wretched thing. The Second Young Master had just endured it; he shouldn't have to suffer through it again so soon.

Seeing Jian Ru approach, Li Jintong set down his book, pushed back the covers, and prepared to rise.

Jian Ru quickly stepped forward, placing Li Jintong’s shoes for him. Once they were on, he reached to unfasten the discreet buttons on the collar of Li Jintong’s garment.

Li Jintong stiffened. By the time the buttons were undone, revealing his prominent collarbones, his throat bobbed. He raised a hand to gently block Jian Ru’s hands, which were moving further down.

Jian Ru’s attention had been entirely on Li Jintong’s clothing, but now he looked up at the young man’s face. Their eyes met, and Jian Ru paused, surprised.

The Second Young Master… his face was so red, though not from fever.

"I’ll do it myself," Li Jintong said, his voice slightly hoarse.

Even blunt Jian Ru felt a flicker of awkwardness now. When Li Jintong had been ill and unconscious, Jian Ru had grown accustomed to bathing and changing him. Back then, his mind was solely focused on urgency; he hadn’t had the leisure to observe or overthink. But now, in the quiet of the night, with just the two of them, Jian Ru’s usual insensitivity finally gave way to a keen awareness.

He took a step back, lowered his head, biting his lip. His hands felt superfluous, with nowhere to go, so he clasped them behind his back, standing there obediently like a child. He murmured softly, "Then… you don’t need me to help you bathe?"

Li Jintong’s gaze flicked over him briefly before he looked down at the ground, equally uncomfortable. Yet the image from moments ago lingered in his mind: Jian Ru, dressed lightly, the loose front of his garment pulled taut behind him by his clasped hands, outlining his slender waist and even the slight, soft curve of his lower belly.

Both acted as if they had done something wrong, neither daring to look at the other.

Jian Ru scuffed his foot on the floor. "Then… I’ll go out first. You… take your time bathing!"

With that, he turned to leave, but the Second Young Master called out, "Wait."

Jian Ru looked back. Li Jintong stood up, took a cotton robe from the clothes rack, and draped it over Jian Ru’s shoulders. "Put this on before you go out. Don’t catch a chill."

Jian Ru quickly donned the robe, then glanced swiftly at the Second Young Master before limping out of the room with a thudding sound, making sure to close the door firmly behind him.

In the small kitchen, a large pot still held a full batch of hot water—reserved for Jian Ru’s own use later.

Xiao Ning had nearly finished burning the last load of firewood and was now banking the fire with coal dust, allowing the water in the pot to simmer slowly.

The two sat facing each other on small stools, sharing the leftover cornbread from dinner. Jian Ru had steamed it that afternoon, adding red dates from the tree in their courtyard. The cornmeal, ground from freshly harvested corn this autumn, was naturally sweet and fragrant. With the dates, it gained their aroma and became even sweeter and softer after steaming. At dinner, even the Second Young Master had eaten a few more bites than usual.

Xiao Ning, still young and with a hearty appetite, ate so happily he squinted.

Jian Ru broke off more than half of his own portion and handed it to Xiao Ning, who grinned goofily and quickly devoured it.

After eating, they chatted idly, ears tuned to the sounds from the inner room, occasionally hearing the splashing of water.

After about the time it takes an incense stick to burn halfway, when Jian Ru estimated the water would be cooling, the person inside finally called for him.

"Xiao Ru."

"Coming!"

Jian Ru stood up, walked to the door, gave a light tap, and entered the room.

The steam in the room had mostly dissipated. The Second Young Master was already fully dressed, his long hair tied up.

Jian Ru glanced briefly, not daring to look longer. He only noted that after the bath, the Second Young Master’s face, neck, and hands—every exposed part—were pale and moist, his hair jet black, stunningly handsome.

Back when his parents were still alive, one year before the New Year, Jian Ru had gone with them to see an opera. On stage, he’d heard someone sing flowery phrases like "a lotus emerging from water, beautiful as a celestial being." Now, after that glance, he felt no phrase could be more fitting.

Li Jintong sat on the edge of the bed, drying his hair with a cloth. Jian Ru approached, catching the clean scent of soapberries and the other’s usual incense. He avoided looking directly at him, keeping his eyes on the bed curtains or the bedding as he drew them closed. Feigning nonchalance, he said, "I’ll need to open the door later to haul hot water. You stay inside so you don’t catch a chill."

Li Jintong gave a soft "Mm" in response.

Jian Ru quickly lifted a corner of the curtain and darted out as if fleeing.

Inside the curtained bed, there was no candlelight, only dim light seeping through from outside.

Jian Ru and Xiao Ning carried out the used water basin by basin, replacing it with freshly heated water.

Li Jintong slowly dried his hair, listening to their hushed voices, footsteps, and the sound of splashing water.

After a while, the room quieted down. Xiao Ning left, and the door closed.

A rustling sound drifted in. Li Jintong paused in drying his hair, feeling the air grow suddenly warmer. Then, with the soft sound of someone entering water, a hint of intimacy seeped into the atmosphere.

His new husband was bathing just beyond a thin curtain, in the very room where he had grown up.

Since childhood, he had been frequently ill, several times nearly crossing into the underworld. His parents, elder brother, and sister, pitying his weak constitution, had doted on him. As a child, he had been mischievous and sometimes threw fits to get his way. But as he grew older, his once lively temperament was tempered by his frail health and the constant tug-of-war between life and death.

Outsiders said the Li family’s Second Young Master was humble, gentle, and polished—like an otherworldly being who subsisted on dew, entirely free of worldly desires.

Li Jintong knew well that he was not so detached. Yet he had believed himself long free of desire.

That morning in the cave, when he woke to find himself held so closely, he had been surprised. Soon, frantic footsteps and voices calling his name came from outside. He quickly responded, telling them to wait outside.

After several attempts to wake Jian Ru failed, realizing he was feverish and unconscious, Li Jintong hurriedly dressed him and carried him out.

Throughout the process, he unavoidably saw and touched, but his mind was filled only with anxiety and concern—no other ripples.

Later, when he met Jian Ru again at the estate, he simply found him direct and easygoing, decisive, and honest.

And later still, he married Jian Ru.

It was then that Li Jintong discovered he was not so free of desire after all.

He and Jian Ru were husbands. His poor health meant he could not help with household matters and even required care himself. Feeling destined to owe Jian Ru in this life, he resolved not to come up short in other aspects.

Everything an ordinary couple should do, they would do. Whatever other husbands had, Jian Ru would have too—even more.

Two days before the wedding, his elder brother gave him a book and vaguely explained certain matters. In truth, he already understood—after all, he was a doctor himself.

Li Jintong had planned carefully, but on their wedding night, he embarrassingly fell ill again.

During these past ten-odd days confined to bed, he felt deeply annoyed, even ashamed to face his husband.

But Jian Ru did not seem angered. He never brought it up, not even once.

But at night when Jian Ru was sound asleep, and he himself, feverish and uncomfortable, lay awake, he would spend the long hours watching his husband beside him. The frustration in his heart gradually transformed, night after night, into a stubborn, hard-to-define obsession.

He began to wish fervently, day after day, for his own swift recovery.

Amid these thoughts, there was also something else that had quietly taken root in him during these days.

He claimed not to care about appearances, and it was true that whether Jian Ru was beautiful or unattractive made no difference to him.

But... when the soft sound of water moving came from outside the bed curtain once more, Li Jintong set down the cloth, lay back, and closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep. Yet he tossed and turned again and again, unable to find rest.

After all, he was still young, and still an ordinary man.