"Yingyu, Yingyu, let me go—it’s dirty there on my neck."

Jianglai felt a tingling numbness along her neck. Yingyu Chi’s hands were firmly gripping her waist, and she dared not struggle too hard—afraid her sister-in-law might exploit her newly discovered ticklish spots.

Jianglai had never been ticklish before. Even feathers brushing her soles barely registered. But ever since becoming a woman, the lightest touch on her exposed hands sent shivers of sensitivity through her palms. Let alone having her waist gripped. If Yingyu’s fingers so much as wandered up or down, Jianglai would writhe uncontrollably from the tickling.

With her weakness exposed, Jianglai could only plead in a tiny, trembling voice, "Let me go… please. I’ll cook your favorite dishes when we get home."

But the dish Yingyu craved most was already in her arms. She’d had her fun. The bite marks she’d left on her brother-in-law’s pale skin were vivid enough—if she pushed further, even the densest man would notice her abnormal longing.

"Be careful when you get down," Yingyu murmured, loosening her grip on Jianglai’s waist. But Jianglai’s legs had turned to jelly. As her foot touched the floor, a wave of pins and needles shot through her body—her leg had fallen asleep.

She nearly collapsed upon standing, forced to steady herself by gripping Yingyu’s shoulders.

"I’m not *that* unsteady," Jianglai insisted weakly. Once free, she slumped onto the small office sofa—a spot Yingyu usually reserved for naps. To Jianglai now, it felt like a sanctuary.

Escaping Yingyu’s grasp left her pitiful: clothes disheveled, hair spilling unevenly over her shoulders. Yet relief didn’t touch her face. She tilted her chin up, gritting her teeth against the electric prickling in her calf. It stung sharply—every twitch threatened a cramp. Her fingers clenched; her toes curled inward. Tears pricked her eyes.

Yingyu instantly recognized the distress. She knelt beside Jianglai, eyes tracing the tense line of her calf, the furrowed brow. No words were needed—poor posture had trapped the blood flow.

"Yingyu… rub my leg. I’m about to cramp—" Jianglai’s voice cracked, tears welling. She arched her pale neck, a helpless whimper escaping her lips. The sound sent a jolt through Yingyu’s chest.

*What filthy thoughts fill my head?* Yingyu scolded herself inwardly. *She’s suffering, and all I want is to torment her more.*

Her hands moved anyway. Gently, she massaged Jianglai’s rigid calf—kneading like a professional masseuse, easing the knotted muscles with slow, firm strokes.

"*Ah—!*"

The sudden touch ripped a cry from Jianglai’s throat. Raw. Uncontrollable. The sound echoed through the quiet office. Every nerve in her body focused on Yingyu’s hands—every rub, every press, hyper-visible even in her blind spots.

Mortified, Jianglai clamped a hand over her mouth. *If this weren’t the innermost office… I’d vanish into a mouse hole.* A doctor might dismiss one cry as accidental—but repeated gasps? Unthinkable. Tears blurred her vision as she bit back every whimper.

Only when the tingling faded completely did she deflate against the sofa like a punctured balloon.

"I can’t show my face again," she mumbled, palms now shielding her flushed cheeks. The memory of her own shrieks burned with shame.

"It’s fine," Yingyu soothed, prying Jianglai’s hands away. "No one heard. You can scream all you want for me."

Beneath her fingers, Jianglai’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears—beautiful, heartbreaking. Yingyu brushed the moisture away with her thumb, then pulled Jianglai into a tight embrace, cradling her head against her chest. "See? If anyone heard, they’d be knocking by now. Besides…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Your voice is lovely. I’d love to hear it again. And again."

*Just massaging a numb calf makes her this delicious,* Yingyu thought, heart pounding. *What if I touched her elsewhere? Made those pretty eyes overflow?* She remembered the warmth, the wetness from before… Jianglai truly was made of water. So much water.

A fantasy flickered: midnight raids with the lights on—watching his expressions while he cried out. But light risked exposure. *Just a dream.*

Without thinking, Yingyu pressed a soft kiss to Jianglai’s forehead.