The idiom “July’s flowing fire,” once a poetic nod to autumn’s chill, now belongs squarely in the environmental lexicon. With global warming worsening, Chuanhai City’s temperatures didn’t begin dropping until October 3rd. Lu Li had already switched to autumn wear. Unlike trendy youths leaving zippers open to look cool, he securely zipped his nylon jacket—he feared cold far more than heat. October 1st was Constitution Day, bringing a seven-day holiday. Instead of school, he waited at the bus station holding a sign.
At 3 p.m., Zou Yameng stepped off the tour bus with teammates supporting her. Lu Li instantly dropped the sign and rushed forward anxiously. “Sis!” Her left leg was wrapped in a bandage. Hearing his voice, she flinched and hid the injured foot behind her, not wanting her little brother to see. Had her teammates not been watching closely, she’d have secretly removed it long ago.
Zhou Wen handed Zou Yameng to Lu Li with a playful wink. “Take good care of your sister, little brother~”
“Sis, what happened to your left foot?”
Only half a month apart—how did she get hurt? Didn’t she just pull off that amazing comeback against He Ping?
“Her foot flared up during the finals. Nothing serious, just needs rest,” Coach Dan answered for her. Zou Yameng shot him a reproachful glance—she didn’t want Lu Li worrying.
“Foot injury? How bad? What did the doctor say?” Lu Li clenched his fists, sweat beading on his brow.
“Relax, it’s minor,” Zou Yameng said, wrapping her arms around his neck to stop his fretting.
Lu Li wasn’t overreacting. In his previous life, this very injury forced Zou Yameng to retire from the national team. Of everyone there, only he knew how severe it would become. In college, he often visited Sister Yameng’s place for meals. On rainy days, her knees and ankles ached so fiercely it felt like living hell—and she was barely past twenty.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Lizi. I lost the finals.”
Coach Dan chimed in, “Don’t blame yourself, Yameng. Without the injury, you’d have won. Any clear-eyed observer saw you were the true uncrowned king.”
Win or lose, Lu Li felt no disappointment—only pride when she won. As long as she was by his side, that was enough. Contentment brought lasting joy. His smile remained warm as he supported her, hailing a rare taxi to bid farewell to the Chuanhai Women’s Sports School team.
“Does your foot hurt?”
Lu Li always thought questions like “Does it hurt?” or “Are you tired?” were pointless fuss. Yet facing someone he cared about, the words slipped out unbidden. Zou Yameng beamed, playfully squeezing his cheeks. “Ah, boys shouldn’t be so fussy. It’s fine, really!”
Since the Lingyue trip, Sister Yameng had grown physically closer—not emotionally, but in proximity. Before, mindful of gender boundaries, she rarely touched him. Now, even in the taxi’s backseat, she sat pressed against him, leaving ample space on her right.
Home at last, Zou Yameng dropped her backpack and stretched with relief. “Finally home! I’m exhausted! Nothing beats the comfort of home!”
“No matter how fancy other nests are, there’s no place like home.”
“I’ll shower. You watch TV.”
“Okay.”
Lu Li sat before the boxy TV. “Sis, can you manage the shower alone?”
“You offering to wash me? What kind of question is that?”
“Call if you need anything. I’ll be right outside.”
The TV played the trending drama *You From the Sun*—a dull time-travel series where the male lead transmigrates to the Three Kingdoms era, becoming a sunny youth guarding Eastern Wu’s borders for Sun Quan. Just as the protagonist faced his lifelong rival Cao Ang, a startled cry came from the bathroom. Lu Li hurried over.
“Sis, what’s wrong?”
“Ouch… N-nothing! Don’t come in!”
He withdrew his hand from the knob, voice uneasy. “Did you fall? Cover up—I’ll help you.”
“No!” Her reply was sharp.
Soft whimpering followed, like someone struggling to rise.
“…Can’t… Floor’s too slippery… Y-you… Come help me.”
Lu Li took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Steam swirled. Zou Yameng lay half-propped on the floor, towel wrapped tight, flushed crimson. “Could you stare any harder?!” she flusteredly snapped.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, took her delicate hand, and helped her sit on the ledge. She turned her back. Sister Yameng’s back was beautifully sculpted—a subtle, elegant allure. Every curve graceful, skin flawless and fair. Beneath the towel’s edge, a hint of smooth, plump curve peeked through.
“Aren’t you leaving?!”
Ignoring her, Lu Li crouched behind her and picked up the bath puff.
She stiffened. “W-what are you doing?”
“Helping you bathe.” He glanced at her foot. “Liar. Your left foot’s stiff as a zombie’s. Still saying ‘it’s fine’?”
“We’re not kids… Y-you can’t bathe me.”
“Caring for the sick is only right.”
His palms gently scrubbed her back. At first touch, she tensed. Sensing only pure care—no ulterior move—her muscles slowly softened. This wasn’t drunken recklessness. Zou Yameng wasn’t that bold. And though Lu Li might have had the nerve, he wouldn’t cross that line.
Her figure held soft plumpness; his palm sank slightly into silky-smooth skin, like polishing fine silk. One word: *smooth*. One image: *milky*. Steam and emotion tinged her skin a tender pink—especially her shoulders, rosy as ripe peaches, tempting a bite.
“Washed your hair?” He loosened her ponytail, fingers gently combing damp strands.
Gone was the sisterly authority—she obeyed meekly like a lamb. “…No…”
“Tilt your head. I’ll wash it.”
“Lizi…”
“Hmm?”
“When was the last time we bathed together?”
Lu Li paused, lathering shampoo. “Elementary school, I guess. Long ago.” Back then, they were inseparable—even sharing restrooms. While other boys hid in shame after accidental slips, Lu Li stubbornly followed her, mimicking her squatting pose. It drove Zou Yameng crazy. No wonder his thick skin was forged then.
Zou Yameng giggled at the memory.
His hand moved forward—mere inches from her chest. Her laughter froze, body rigid as iron—until he said softly, “Sis, you wash the front yourself.”
“Oh.” That single syllable held three parts relief, three parts confusion, and a whisper of loss only she understood.
After drying her hair, Lu Li cast one worried glance at her left foot, then quietly left the bathroom.
