Chapter 12 – Giving Jin Yang a Bath

Jin Yang had been bedridden for a day. The doctor said he needed to move around more to improve blood circulation and help his leg heal faster.

The lights were already off in the ward. Lin Xiaqing was supporting him in the hallway, helping him practice walking with weight on one leg.

“I’m sorry I got back so late today and left you starving,” Lin Xiaqing said apologetically. “But I’ve got things to do tomorrow, and the day after too. From now on, before I go out, I’ll prepare snacks for you and my mom. If you get hungry, just eat something simple first, and I’ll cook something hot for you when I’m back.”

She had a great attitude about admitting her faults, like a model student with expert-level skills in saying one thing and doing another. Her face read: I admit I was wrong, but I’m definitely not changing.

Jin Yang was amused. What could a guy with busted limbs do? Just be a quiet, obedient patient and let her call the shots.

“Do you want to take a bath later?” she asked.

Jin Yang was visibly caught off guard. Though her tone was professional—as one would expect from a caretaker—being asked such a personal and physical question by a very attractive woman still made him feel awkward.

Truth be told, he’d wanted a bath since yesterday.

He had this obsessive habit—he had to shower daily, even in the dead of winter. In summer, with all the sweat, it was even worse. He couldn’t sleep well without one.

As for helping Jin Yang bathe, Lin Xiaqing didn’t care much about gender barriers.

Fast forward twenty years to the new millennium—when beachgoers flaunted their bodies in bikinis and shorts—Lin Xiaqing had vacationed by the sea, shamelessly ogling shirtless young men with model-like physiques. She wasn’t afraid of getting styes, only of missing the view.

But this was an era when even holding hands in public could get you reported for moral misconduct. She didn’t want Jin Yang to think she was a pervert, so she said calmly, “I’ll fetch a bucket of warm water and ask the nurses for gauze to cover your eyes. We’ll go when the men’s restroom is empty. You’ll go inside and wash up; I’ll lather the soap and pass you towels.”

The stalls in the hospital restroom had half-walls, offering partial privacy. Jin Yang could wash behind the tile partition while Lin Xiaqing, blindfolded with gauze, would fumble her way through passing towels and soap using sound alone—her sixth sense would be doing all the work.

She also had to stay alert in case someone entered the restroom. If caught, she’d be labeled a pervert. And in this era, female “perverts” didn’t just get shamed—they risked being executed as cautionary examples.

When Jin Yang stripped down, he was a bit self-conscious, but comforted that her eyes were wrapped mummy-style and that the stall wall offered another layer of privacy.

It was a bizarre and slightly ridiculous scene: a grown man standing naked in front of a woman he’d known for less than 48 hours. Good thing she couldn’t see him, and he had no choice but to trust her completely.

Lin Xiaqing squatted down, wrung out the first towel, slightly damp to avoid wetting the plaster on his limbs. Later towels had soap lather on them, and she could smell the clean, warm scent of soap rising from his skin.

Jin Yang efficiently scrubbed the parts he could reach. For his back, he needed Lin Xiaqing’s help.

It was her first time scrubbing a man’s back. She tried to recall the techniques used by bathhouse attendants in her previous life, spacing out for a moment as she crouched by the bucket.

Jin Yang, now getting tired of standing on one leg, glanced down at her and coughed. “That’s enough. The towel’s clean. I can’t stay on this leg much longer.”

She snapped out of her daze and quickly wrung the towel.

When everything was ready, she asked awkwardly, “Where’s your back?”

His hand guided hers gently to the spot. “Here.”

Her ears turned red. “I’m starting now.”

“Mm.”

To ease the awkwardness, she chatted, “Is your car fixed yet?”

“Not yet,” he replied, seemingly in a good mood, likely thanks to the late-night snacks. “They couldn’t match the paint. They said it’ll be done next week.”

Lin Xiaqing didn’t dare mention that she had seen his outrageous traffic ticket while doing his laundry last night. Jin Yang was smart and suspicious by nature. No need to invite trouble.

Apparently enjoying the back rub, Jin Yang said lazily, “From now on, a milk delivery will come every morning. I ordered two extra bottles for you and Aunt Qiao.”

Before she could thank him, he added, “It’s free. The guy who hit me is footing the bill—for the milk and the medical costs. You’ll have free milk until I’m discharged. While you were out this afternoon, a bunch of strangers came and tried to give me fruit and pastries. I refused. It’s hot, and the flies would’ve made the ward unbearable. Plus, I had no idea who sent it. No strings attached, no gifts accepted.”

But after seeing how happily she accepted Fang Heping’s gifts that evening, Jin Yang slightly regretted turning them down. Watching her smile so beautifully made him think maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

As the saying goes: A beauty’s smile is priceless. Lin Xiaqing’s smile made her even more attractive.

Of course, Lin Xiaqing knew exactly who had sent those things—who else but Lu the county chief, father of that troublemaking brat Ma Zi? Ruining others’ lives and then sending milk like a peace offering.

The milk suddenly tasted bitter. Jin Yang had his limbs broken by Ma Zi, and his father tried to make up for it with dairy? Drinking it now felt like sipping Jin Yang’s blood and sweat.

Frustrated by the injustice, she scrubbed harder. “Are you stupid? They beat you up and think a bottle of milk makes it okay?”

She was angry at how meek Jin Yang was and furious that the local bullies could act with impunity.

Ma Zi only attacked him because Jin Yang looked like a weak outsider. If Jin Yang weren’t who he was, just a regular guy, Ma Zi would probably still be out there wreaking havoc.

She was overwhelmed with the sense that, in any era, ordinary lives were always too cheap.

Jin Yang was speechless. Why was she suddenly scolding him like he was her worst enemy? They were just laughing moments ago.

When she started scrubbing like she had a vendetta, he finally called out, “Go easy! I’m not your mortal enemy!”

She gave the towel a sharp twist. “Back’s done.”

Now for the lower body. Jin Yang tilted his head and looked suspiciously at her gauze-covered eyes. “Can you turn around?”

“I need to hear your voice to know where you are,” she replied. “That way, I can pass you the towel without bumping into anything.”

“Alright.”

Jin Yang changed the subject, “Those sausages tonight were great. If you get a chance, visit Harbin. They’ve got the real deal there.”

Lin Xiaqing thought: I’ve been to Harbin, fed pigeons in front of St. Sophia Cathedral, and walked through Ice and Snow World. Too bad you were just a kid in the ‘80s. By the time it’s built and famous, you’ll be too old to enjoy it.

Jin Yang got a little too carried away with his story. “My grandma’s house used to have a Russian madam whose father was a pastry chef for the royal court in Russia. She made the best honey cakes in St. Petersburg…”

Then he stopped. Those memories were painful—he had lost both his grandma and the madam during those dark times.

He suddenly prayed Lin Xiaqing hadn’t understood the political implications. If anyone else had heard, he could be in deep trouble.

Lin Xiaqing noticed his panic. Even with her eyes covered, she could feel him stiffen.

Jin Yang joked, “You don’t actually believe all that about Russian royal pastries, do you?”

“Why not?” she teased, echoing his playful tone.

He fell silent.

She laughed. “I used to eat French pastries every day, paired with Mediterranean olives. Want to hear more?”

Just crusty bread with olives, she thought. Fast food for lazy people like me.

Jin Yang didn’t believe her, but her radiant smile made him doubt himself.

“You like French pastries, I like Russian sweets,” he said. “Looks like we’re both gifted eaters.”

She smiled again but didn’t respond.

Soon, Jin Yang finished bathing. He struggled into his hospital gown top, but putting on the bottoms was impossible.

His left leg hurt too much to move, and his right leg was his only support. So, Lin Xiaqing had to help him put on his boxer briefs.

She carefully followed his instructions, pulling them up from below without touching anything inappropriate.

“Are they on straight? Do I need to adjust the waistband?” she asked professionally.

“They’re… fine. Perfect,” Jin Yang replied stiffly, face red.

What wasn’t “fine” was a certain part of him, used to being on the right side, now awkwardly twisted left. It felt horribly uncomfortable.

He clenched his teeth and started sweating. No way I’m asking her to fix that…