Bullying The Sister-In-Law - Chapter 26.2

In the middle of the night, the neighborhood transformer exploded with a loud bang, and the entire room instantly became an airtight oven. Su Zhiluo turned on two fans, one facing the floor beneath the bed and one facing the bed, but the air blowing out was scalding.

She woke up drenched in sweat, her damp bangs sticking to her cheeks, every inch of her skin burning.

She didn’t know how long the power outage would last.

Su Zhiluo drank some water and lay back down on the bed. A moment later, she picked up a fan and quietly sat down next to Liu Chengxu. Liu Chengxu groggily opened her eyes and, in the dim light, faintly saw Su Zhiluo fanning her. She rolled over and naturally tucked herself between Su Zhiluo’s legs, wrapping her arms around her slender waist.

Perhaps due to their physical differences, Su Zhiluo was naturally cold, her skin remaining cool even in the muggiest weather. Liu Chengxu, however, was scorching hot, like a small furnace.

Craving the cool touch, she rubbed against Su Zhiluo’s lower abdomen, her voice slurred with sleep: “Sister-in-law, it’s so hot…”

Su Zhiluo lowered the fan slightly and gently fanned her face. “The power should come back on soon. Bear with it. Do you want some water?”

Liu Chengxu shook her head, pressing her cheek against Su Zhiluo’s cool skin again, murmuring sleepily: “You’re so cool.”

Su Zhiluo shivered slightly from the heat Liu Chengxu radiated, and her fanning slowed down a bit. She reached out and tucked Liu Chengxu’s damp bangs behind her ear, her fingertip touching the wet hair root. Liu Chengxu took advantage of the moment and rubbed against her again, mumbling indistinctly, “Sister-in-law… I love you so much.”

The night wind passed through the screen window, gently caressing their touching skin.

Su Zhiluo’s fingertips paused, and she quietly responded, “Mhm.”

The summer heat made her heart feel stuffy. She looked down at this person who had accompanied her through several seasons, and a wave of excitement surged from deep within.

Su Zhiluo always wondered if Liu Chengxu mistook her dependence for love because of the care she received.

Liu Chengxu held her tightly, sleeping soundly.

Su Zhiluo’s fanning became slower and slower.

At this moment, a sudden urge to kiss Liu Chengxu welled up in her heart.

This thought didn’t come out of nowhere. Perhaps it started when Liu Chengxu secretly kissed her, and she couldn’t control the physical desire to respond. Or perhaps it was the way Liu Chengxu stared at her while she applied face cream in the evening, leaving a mark in her heart and quietly giving rise to this impulse.

In a sense, Liu Chengxu was also her little hero. She would take a twenty-hour train journey, carrying heavy luggage, traveling thousands of miles to see her; she would buy her necessities and take meticulous care of her. If there truly was a sense of reliance in this world, Liu Chengxu was her most stable safe harbor.

It was quite difficult to say. Her lips moved, but she swallowed the three words, replacing them with an apology.

The power finally returned after 4 AM. When Liu Chengxu woke up and saw Su Zhiluo still sleeping soundly, she gently kissed her forehead and quietly went out to buy groceries.

The scorching heat lasted for almost a week, as if they were experiencing extreme weather.

Last year, when Su Zhiluo came to Guangzhou, she often heard people mention typhoons, but she didn’t feel a significant impact. Locals said Guangzhou wasn’t the main landing spot for typhoons, so the effect was usually minimal.

This time, however, was completely different.

The heat was unbearable, and the phone frequently received typhoon warnings. The typhoon, named “Shanmao” (Mountain Cat), was brewing. They rushed to stock up on groceries, preparing to use the typhoon period as a holiday to safely stay at home.

The sky was gloomy, and the trees outside the window swayed restlessly. Her phone showed a push notification: the local area had activated the “Five Stops” measure (classes, work, markets, transportation, public activities stopped), reminding residents to avoid going out.

The wind howled outside the window, and the shadows of the violently swaying trees were projected onto the curtains, like a silent shadow play.

Liu Chengxu put the frozen dumplings into the full refrigerator. Turning around, she saw Su Zhiluo standing on her tiptoes, applying weatherstripping to the living room window. Today, she was wearing a simple cotton white T-shirt, and her waistline was faintly visible as she moved.

“That should be enough,” Liu Chengxu climbed down from the stool and clapped her hands. “For the next few days, we’ll have to rely on each other here.”

Her tone was light, but her gaze lingered on Su Zhiluo’s face for a moment. Su Zhiluo looked away, pretending to tidy the already neat countertop.

“Are you nervous?” Liu Chengxu suddenly asked, her voice sounding particularly soft against the background of the wind and rain.

“Nervous about what?” Su Zhiluo wondered. “The typhoon? We should be fine if we don’t go out.”

“The typhoon. And,” Liu Chengxu paused and pointed to herself, “being trapped here with me.”

The remark was strange. Su Zhiluo bent down to pick up the remote control that had fallen at some point, and her movement stalled at the question. The wind outside suddenly became sharper, but it couldn’t drown out the sudden acceleration of her heart.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been alone with you,” she tried to keep her voice calm, stating a plain fact. “Ruyin is still next door.”

Liu Chengxu chuckled softly, not responding. She walked over to Su Zhiluo, and her warm arm brushed Su Zhiluo’s. Su Zhiluo instinctively stepped back half a step but was enveloped by the faint scent of jasmine from Liu Chengxu.

Liu Chengxu helped her apply the tape and said, “I remember you saying last year that the typhoons in Guangzhou are usually harmless.”

“This time is different,” Su Zhiluo handed the air conditioner remote control to Liu Chengxu, their fingertips briefly overlapping.

A loud thud suddenly came from outside the window, and the whole building seemed to shake with it. The light flickered twice and abruptly went out. Darkness enveloped them, with only the faint emergency light outlining their silhouettes.

In the sudden darkness and silence, Liu Chengxu’s breathing became clearly audible. Su Zhiluo felt her hand lightly rest on her arm, the warm touch passing through the thin fabric.

This time was indeed different.

The light cast a soft shadow on her side profile, and those eyes, which always held a smile, were now deep and tranquil. Su Zhiluo suddenly realized they were standing too close, close enough to see the fine shadows cast by each other’s eyelashes, close enough to feel the entanglement of their breaths.

The wind and rain raged outside, and in this dim corner of the world, something that had been quietly growing was now subtly breaking through the soil.

The wind outside grew stronger. At first, Liu Chengxu looked out curiously. The trees outside were bent over by the wind, which was quite scary, so Liu Chengxu took pictures and sent them to her group chat. Su Zhiluo said, “Didn’t your friends all live in Guangzhou before? Why are you sending pictures to them?”

Liu Chengxu hummed in acknowledgment.

She typed: Experiencing the typhoon with my sister-in-law.

No one would like a typhoon day, but this was a typhoon they were hiding from together.

Su Zhiluo went to turn on her nearby laptop. Liu Chengxu set her phone up next to it. Su Zhiluo glanced at her, puzzled.

Unable to go out for a run on a typhoon day, Liu Chengxu exercised at home. She was used to her exercise routine and felt restless confined indoors. Having spent so much time with her, Su Zhiluo occasionally joined in.

Liu Chengxu’s physique was excellent, especially when doing glute bridges, where her waist-hip curve was particularly eye-catching. Su Zhiluo pretended not to look, but her gaze always drifted over involuntarily.

Liu Chengxu was panting, sitting on the yoga mat. She had the kind of physique that even other girls would envy, with clearly defined abs.

Su Zhiluo’s eyes flicked over, and she started to smile.

Liu Chengxu said, “Do you want to touch?”

Su Zhiluo shook her head.

Liu Chengxu generously said, “Go on, feel it. The texture is quite good.”

It was true; it looked very appealing. Su Zhiluo had only seen photos of fitness bloggers online, and now Liu Chengxu walked over. She bit the hem of her shirt and took Su Zhiluo’s hand, placing it on her abdomen.

The feel was indeed good, warm to the touch.

Just as Su Zhiluo opened her mouth to say, “It’s nice,” she looked up at Liu Chengxu and was startled by her wet, pleading eyes. She was about to withdraw her hand, but Liu Chengxu pressed it down.

Su Zhiluo’s fingertips were still resting on that firm warmth when Liu Chengxu’s palm covered hers, pressing it down firmly.

“Don’t avoid me,” Liu Chengxu’s voice was lower and more husky than usual, her breath softly fanning Su Zhiluo’s ear. “Feel your puppy.”

Su Zhiluo could clearly feel the slight rise and fall of the muscle beneath her palm, trembling gently with each breath. Liu Chengxu’s lashes were damp and cast a small shadow beneath her eyes; those eyes, which were usually full of laughter, now held too much desire.

“You…” Su Zhiluo had just opened her mouth when Liu Chengxu’s forehead gently rested on her shoulder.

This posture of dependence made Su Zhiluo freeze. The faint scent of her shampoo mixed with the subtle perspiration after her workout.

Liu Chengxu held her wrist, guiding her palm to move slowly over that area of skin. The temperature where their skin met gradually rose, and Su Zhiluo’s pulse hammered violently beneath Liu Chengxu’s fingers.

“Do you feel it?” Liu Chengxu asked softly, her breath ironing Su Zhiluo’s shoulder line through the thin fabric.

Su Zhiluo couldn’t speak. She should have pushed away this overly intimate closeness, but her fingers involuntarily curled slightly, as if trying to memorize the path of every muscle line.

A distant clap of thunder sounded outside the window at the perfect moment, as if pausing this too-quiet afternoon. Liu Chengxu finally eased her grip slightly but did not fully let go of her hand.

Their eyes met in the dim light. Something fragile enough to shatter was floating in the air. The corners of Liu Chengxu’s eyes were still faintly red.

Su Zhiluo “Mhm’d,” preparing to pull her hand back, but Liu Chengxu didn’t let go. She clasped Su Zhiluo’s hand and asked, “Can I kiss you?”