Chapter 57

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Lu Zhe's breath hitched.
Clearly, Shen Qiao hadn't started anything. And the distance between the two of them was still quite substantial. But men were like that. Sometimes, the slightest provocation was enough to fill their minds with lewd and suggestive images.

The sound of rushing water, intertwining bodies, loud and uneven gasps...

Lu Zhe's throat bobbed when he swallowed. He looked at Shen Qiao and found a faint twinkle in Shen Qiao's eyes, as though fragmented scenes from an R18 movie were racing through his mind as well.

In the end, Lu Zhe breathed a laugh and leaned one shoulder against the wall. He called out softly, "Qiaoqiao. You do realize... if you give me a 'hand', it won't just be a bath anymore, will it?"

Lu Zhe's words set Shen Qiao on fire. A red flush climbed from Shen Qiao's neck to his cheeks and ears. He slowly exhaled before lifting his eyes to meet Lu Zhe's gaze.

"I'm just saying your hands are out of shape right now. If you want to continue playing professionally, you should be good and recover well."

Lu Zhe said nothing for a moment.

Tsk.

He looked down at his own gauze-wrapped hand and suddenly felt a bit reluctant to comply.

Shen Qiao noticed that faint reluctance on Lu Zhe's face. He made his way into the bathroom on his own and turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature before glancing at the towel rack mounted on the wall.

He came back out of the bathroom to ask, "Where are the towels and pajamas?"

Lu Zhe tried to move his injured hand. Although the wound wasn't deep, he had gotten a few stitches after having the wound cleaned, just to facilitate a quick recovery. If he moved too quickly and put too much pressure on his hand, there really was a risk of the wound opening up again.

He mumbled, still a little discontentedly, "The closet, probably. I'll grab them myself later."

Shen Qiao could hear the frustration and sullenness in Lu Zhe's tone, and he couldn't help but find it a bit amusing. He was inexplicably reminded of videos he'd seen of people's pet Samoyeds. When those beautiful dogs were happy, they would always prance circled around you. And when they were dejected, they would flop down and sulk, occasionally casting dispirited looks at their owners.

Lu Zhe was just like that when he was unhappy.

The resemblance was so uncanny to Shen Qiao that he couldn't help but soften his gaze and reassure, in a slightly awkward way that clearly showed he wasn't used to comforting people, "It'll be fine soon."

Hearing that softened voice, Lu Zhe held out his left arm, indicating he wanted Shen Qiao to come closer for a hug.

Shen Qiao walked up to him and took the initiative to wrap his arms around Lu Zhe's waist. As always, Lu Zhe settled his hand at the nape of Shen Qiao's neck, where his glands were located. Lu Zhe tipped his head to the side and pressed his nose to Shen Qiao's hair, softly whispering, "Not soon enough."

His voice was tinged with an indescribable sort of longing, similar to that of a traveler in the desert, thirsting for a sparkling source of water.

He continued, "I want to wrap you up in a stronger embrace."

Shen Qiao knew exactly what he meant by 'embrace'.

His breath hitched suddenly, and he lowered his gaze to Lu Zhe's shoulder and throat, bare above the collar of his short-sleeved shirt. After a few seconds, Shen Qiao softly answered, "As long as you get better, you can do anything you want."

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