“I knew it! Just… don’t pull that weird phrasing again next time, okay?” Chen Yaoyi grumbled. Gently lifting the girl’s flaxen hair, he started scratching from the roots where strands met scalp, working upward with slow, soothing motions. Fingers kneading her scalp, he muttered about her confusing remark. *Even if you weren’t the heroine and he wasn’t some random blonde side character—you’re still teacher and student! This getting out would be pure trouble.*

“No next time,” May murmured. Towel draped over her face, she leaned back against the tub wall, tilting her head to rest on the rim. Chen Yaoyi dragged a low stool behind her and sat down. She slumped back against his chest. He wasn’t a salon pro—just a simple scalp rub and rinse. Not that he lacked practice; pleasing older wealthy women had made this second nature. Washing May’s hair? Easy. She was too weak from hunger to lift her arms—hence the dropped items, the need for help.

“I don’t want a pervert like you seeing my body. Poke your eyes out later,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah. Next time, promise.”

“Tch.”

Chen Yaoyi’s gaze drifted: tangled hair → towel hiding half her face → rosy shoulders → the towel-draped curve of her chest → finally, her flushed knees. Those knees reminded him of Su Ziqing. Injured, yet she’d reopened her wound just to keep Zhao Xiaoluo close. That boldness? Probably what May lacked. This girl was too timid. If either Zhao Xiaoluo or May had shown an ounce of confidence or initiative, none of this messy back-and-forth would’ve happened.

“Hungry?” Chen Yaoyi asked. Right hand cradling her hair, left squeezing shampoo, he lathered foam one-handed and smoothed it over her head. *Scritch-scratch.* A soft, contented sigh slipped from beneath the towel. He felt a flicker of pride—though she hadn’t answered yet.

“Exhausted. Thirsty. Starving. Sleepy.”

“Wow. Dying? Seriously dying? *Can* you die?”

“On purpose… or *intentionally*?”

“Both.”

“Get lost!”

She slapped the water hard. Droplets splashed onto Chen Yaoyi. Clothes already damp, he still flinched. Logically harmless—but *bathwater from a cute girl*? He’d feel remiss not dodging.

“Strange… I’m not thinking about Xiaoluo with you here. Did you poison me? Cast a spell?” May sighed, voice softening. Right now, her mind was clear. Not his girlfriend yet—but witnessing *that* scene felt like betrayal. And Su Ziqing? She’d definitely cling to Zhao Xiaoluo now.

“Then shut up.”

“Is *that* what a teacher does? I was trying to vent! Listen to me!” May groaned inwardly. She’d finally gathered courage to face it—snuffed out instantly.

“You know I’m no saint. Your pain is yours. You own it. Sink over Zhao Xiaoluo? I don’t care.”

“Then why help me?”

“You matter to me.”

No need to hide it. Whether this teaching gig or his role assisting the blonde guy—May mattered. Silence stretched.

“S-so… I… matter…?” she whispered faintly. Chen Yaoyi dismissed it as parroting, but May’s fluster was obvious.

“Almost done. Close your eyes. Rinsing.”

“Mm… be gentle!”

He said nothing. Twisted the showerhead to the softest stream. A light sprinkle hit her skin.

“GYAAH! What?! Annoying! Stupid teacher! Pervert! I hate you!” She yanked the towel down—flushed cheeks, puffed-up face, utterly adorable.

“I’m rinsing,” he repeated calmly. Settling behind her, left hand stroking her hair, fingertips gently scratching her scalp. Showerhead in hand, he washed foam away strand by strand. Not salon-perfect—but right here, right now, *only he* brought her this comfort. May’s lips curved slightly. Brow relaxed. Total ease.

Her thoughts? Full of this annoying Chen Yaoyi. Even the infirmary shock from noon had faded. But her feelings for Zhao Xiaoluo? Unchanged. Undeniable.

“All set. Soak a bit longer. Clothes are here.”

“Hehe~ Never knew you were this skilled, Pervert Teacher. Do you often bring girls like me to hotels?” May flipped underwater, peeking up with a sly smile. Chen Yaoyi saw no need to explain.

“Then you’d better watch out~”