The Guide to Faking Innocence to Win His Wife - Chapter 16

The wind brushed over the shimmering surface of the river, breaking the tree shadows cast upon the ground. A humid warmth lingered in the night air.

Jiang Zhongmu had changed into a white tank top featuring a small rabbit print. Her black hair, still damp, clung flatly to her forehead. In her hand, she held the bottle of shampoo.

Xie Zhiyi stood at the threshold of her room, not inviting her in. The soft, alluring curves of her eyes showed no trace of her earlier fluster.

“Thanks,” Jiang Zhongmu said, handing her the bottle.

“It’s nothing. You can return it tomorrow; I won’t need it for a while,” Xie Zhiyi replied reflexively, her polite mask firmly back in place as she took the bottle.

“Consider it the price for drying my hair,” Jiang Zhongmu said, her voice low and husky, perhaps still thick from the steam of her shower.

Xie Zhiyi paused. Her habits as an elder kicked in, and she began to nag: “You really should blow-dry your hair after a bath. Otherwise, you’ll get headaches later in life.”

She glanced at the little rabbit on the girl’s shirt. It was rare to see a pattern on Jiang Zhongmu’s clothes, let alone a white rabbit clutching a carrot. Paired with her lean, powerful arms and tanned skin, the look was strikingly unique.

“Too lazy,” Jiang Zhongmu replied, making no effort to brush her off. Intent on keeping the conversation going, she added, “Do you still have water in your room?”

“Yes. If you aren’t careful now, you’ll suffer later,” Xie Zhiyi continued, sounding very much like someone who was older and more experienced.

“It’ll dry on its own in a bit.”

“The dampness will seep into your head,” Xie Zhiyi insisted firmly.

Jiang Zhongmu arched an eyebrow, showing a hint of concession. “Do you have a hairdryer here, then?”

“Hm?” Xie Zhiyi didn’t catch the implication immediately.

“Grandma and I don’t use them…” The dim light hid the cunning glint in Jiang Zhongmu’s eyes. Her voice turned hesitant, almost troubled, as she lifted an arm slightly and muttered, “I can’t exactly go out like this.”

Since it was late at night, Jiang Zhongmu wasn’t wearing anything under the tank top. The armholes were wide, and the moment she raised her arm…

It revealed the same “scenery” Xie Zhiyi had glimpsed earlier.

The memory surged back, and the woman, who had just managed to rebuild her wall of composure, abruptly looked away. This time, the view was even more revealing. The fabric was thin, and while Xie Zhiyi had tried to focus on the rabbit print before, her gaze now caught the firm, youthful curve of the girl’s silhouette.

Perhaps because she was so lean, Jiang Zhongmu wasn’t particularly large; she was like those peaches in May—unripe, yet pert and firm. Even without ulterior motives, the sight stirred a certain lingering tension in Xie Zhiyi. After all, her feelings toward her own gender…

Her hand tightened on the doorframe. She managed a brief “Yes” before hurrying into the room to fetch the dryer.

Her intention was to give it to Jiang Zhongmu and send her back to her own room. But today, Jiang Zhongmu was like a piece of sticky candy; as soon as Xie Zhiyi let go of the door, the girl followed her inside.

“You aren’t going to sleep yet, right? I’ll just dry it here so I don’t have to carry the dryer back up later,” Jiang Zhongmu said earnestly. Her logic was sound, but the smile hidden deep in her eyes grew warmer. The quiet little leopard was beginning to make her move, and it was becoming impossible to parry.

“Just take it down. I don’t need it for now,” Xie Zhiyi tried to struggle, stopping by the desk.

“It’ll only take a few minutes. I’m too lazy to run up and down again,” Jiang Zhongmu said. Seeing Xie Zhiyi’s silence, she pivoted: “Actually, never mind. It’ll dry eventually.”

That left Xie Zhiyi with no retreat. She had been the one to insist on the danger of damp hair; to refuse now would be hypocritical. Xie Zhiyi bit her lip, a trace of annoyance crossing her gentle features, but it vanished the moment she turned around with the dryer.

“Just dry it,” she said.

Jiang Zhongmu took it with one hand and said politely, “Thank you.”

She seemed to have developed a new talent—filling her heart with mischief while keeping her face steady and stoic. Her half-lidded lashes cast fine shadows under her eyes, giving her an air of obedient sweetness.

Outside, the town was silent. Unlike the city, Jiang Town went to bed early; only the sound of the rushing river remained. The whirring of the hairdryer seemed exceptionally loud in the quiet room. Xie Zhiyi, sitting on the edge of the bed, frowned slightly.

Jiang Zhongmu clearly didn’t use these things often. Her technique was rough and reckless. She ignored all proper methods, turning the dryer to its highest, hottest setting and blasting her hairline directly before haphazardly ruffling the sides. With her thick, abundant hair, she looked like a wild rock singer within seconds.

Xie Zhiyi opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, and finally stood up. “Drying it like that will make your hairline recede.”

“Huh?” Jiang Zhongmu turned her head in confusion, her wide sleeve falling open even further.

Xie Zhiyi pursed her lips, her eyes darting away for a split second before she stepped forward and took the dryer. “This is bad for your hair,” she said helplessly.

The usually mature little leopard blinked, looking genuinely lost. “I didn’t know,” she admitted honestly.

Xie Zhiyi’s thoughts drifted deeper. Jiang Zhongmu had lost her parents young, and Grandma didn’t care for such vanities. She looked at the little rabbit on the girl’s shirt, the print faded from years of washing. The image of the stubborn child from her memory overlapped with the young woman before her.

Consider it a repayment for her care these past few days, she thought.

“Sit down,” Xie Zhiyi said softly. “I’ll teach you.”

Jiang Zhongmu froze for a second, then immediately complied. She sat on the stool with perfect posture back straight, hands placed neatly on her knees, like a model student in front of a favorite teacher.

Xie Zhiyi turned the dryer to a low, warm setting and began to work from the roots to the tips, smoothing out the frizz Jiang Zhongmu had created. Since there was no mirror, Jiang Zhongmu couldn’t see the woman’s expression. This development was entirely unexpected; her hands tightened on her knees, and she bit her lip.

“Don’t rely on being young to skip drying your hair. Over time, the dampness gets in, and you’ll have headaches every time the wind blows,” Xie Zhiyi’s voice was soft, clear even over the hum of the dryer.

“Okay,” Jiang Zhongmu replied.

“Don’t start with the highest heat; it causes hair loss. Use warm air first, then finish with cool air.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t blast the hairline directly,” Xie Zhiyi smiled, a mix of amusement and helplessness. “What will you do if your hairline moves back and you end up looking like a Qing Dynasty prince?”

The “child” frowned, sounding hesitant: “That… probably won’t happen?” She didn’t usually care about her looks, but the thought of that specific hairstyle made her fall into a silent, worried daze.

Xie Zhiyi’s pale fingers ran through the black hair. The warm air accidentally brushed against Jiang Zhongmu’s ear, turning it a deep red that spread down her neck.

Xie Zhiyi laughed, her eyes curving. “You never know. I had a classmate who was stubborn because he had thick hair; now he’s researching hair growth serums.”

Jiang Zhongmu remained silent.

The caring elder continued: “So you have to pay attention while you’re young. Don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you’re healthy. Who goes soaking in a river in the middle of the night?”

Jiang Zhongmu’s eyes flickered. She thought that incident had been forgotten, but Xie Zhiyi was still thinking about it. “Okay,” she muttered.

She’s being so obedient, Xie Zhiyi thought. Having been a teacher, she always had a soft spot for students who listened well. Her voice softened even further. “Soaking in cold water is bad for you.”

“I know,” Jiang Zhongmu added two words this time.

“Pass me that yellow bottle,” Xie Zhiyi said, switching off the dryer.

Jiang Zhongmu tentatively pointed to one on the desk, and after a nod of confirmation, she handed it over.

“A little hair oil will make it smoother,” Xie Zhiyi explained. She rubbed the liquid in her palms and then ran them through the girl’s hair. The scent was light and dissipated quickly.

As Xie Zhiyi’s cool fingers brushed against her earlobe, Jiang Zhongmu’s spine went rigid. Her breath hitched, and her already red earlobe turned a vivid, blood-like crimson.

Xie Zhiyi didn’t notice, though she felt the girl’s body temperature was a bit high. “Do you like to shower with very hot water?” she asked.

Jiang Zhongmu gave a muffled nod, letting the tingling sensation sweep through her body, her fingers digging into her own thighs.

Outside, the crescent moon was a thin sliver in the sky, like a small cut made by a blade, yet it shone with a peculiar brightness against the dark void. Their shadows on the floor were merged, indistinguishable. Jiang Zhongmu’s gaze caught the shadow and stayed there.

Finally, the hair that had been puffed out like a poodle’s was smooth and neat. Xie Zhiyi set the dryer down. “There. Remember to sleep early; don’t stay up late.”

The woman who was a habitual night owl was telling someone else not to stay up. Jiang Zhongmu, in a rare moment of slowness, didn’t argue. Instead, she stood up hurriedly and repeated her thanks. She was like a puppy who hadn’t been treated with such care before, unable to express herself and only knowing how to wag her tail and repeat her gratitude.

“It’s fine,” Xie Zhiyi shook her head, her long curls swaying. Her gentle eyes were shimmering, like the white champaca flowers on the ground outside.

Jiang Zhongmu’s throat moved. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a stiff “Goodnight” came out.

“Goodnight,” Xie Zhiyi smiled as the breeze ruffled her skirt.

“I’ll remember what you said,” Jiang Zhongmu emphasized, her gaze solemn.

“Good,” Xie Zhiyi replied, treating it as a trivial matter.

Jiang Zhongmu looked at her, unable to find more words, and finally turned to leave. Her footsteps grew faint. She stopped in the darkness for a long moment before she remembered the question she had actually wanted to ask.

She wanted to know what brand of shampoo Xie Zhiyi used, why it smelled so good?

As the night deepened, the lights in the small house went out earlier than usual, leaving only the silent champaca tree in the courtyard.

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