The Guide to Faking Innocence to Win His Wife - Chapter 20

The morning breeze swept away the lingering heat. Behind the closed frosted glass door of the bathroom, damp mist squeezed through the crevices, casting a graceful silhouette against the panes.

Light music played from the phone nearby. Beneath the continuous, rain-like spray of hot water, Xie Zhiyi closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting the heat wash over her face.

The herbal powder, ground from Sichuan peppercorns and mugwort, inevitably leaked a pungent, spicy scent despite being sealed by the navel patch. It had permeated her entire bedding. Xie Zhiyi, who usually showered before bed, had been forced to change her routine, heading straight for the bathroom the moment she woke up.

Water glided over her jade-like skin. Beneath her slender neck, the faint blue pulse throbbed like delicate ink strokes in a traditional painting. The triangular hollows formed by her collarbones and shoulders couldn’t hold the water; it streamed down into deeper curves.

She paused the shower and reached for the body wash. After pumping a bit into her palm, she worked it into a lather before applying it slowly from her neck downward.

Her figure wasn’t lean and muscular like Jiang Zhongmu’s; instead, she possessed a lush, radiant fullness—perfectly balanced. If Jiang Zhongmu was an unripe green peach in May, Xie Zhiyi was a honey peach in July, fully ripened and heavy on the branch, exuding the mature charm of an older woman.

As the milky-white bubbles slid down, her fingers paused at her bottom rib, hesitating for a heartbeat before continuing. She knew she wouldn’t feel the same tingling sensation from the night before; her own fingertips, unaccustomed to labor, were soft and delicate. They lacked the rough calluses of the girl whose touch was so coarse it was impossible to ignore.

She let out a long sigh—partly out of relief, partly out of something more wistful. She lathered her flat, soft abdomen, and the stubborn scent of peppercorns finally vanished, replaced by the fresh steam and the scent of soap.

In the courtyard, Grandma lay in her bamboo rocking chair. The chair creaked gently, and the air was thick with the fragrance of flowers. She kept her eyes closed, looking perfectly at peace until she heard footsteps from inside the house.

She sat up slowly and looked toward the door, her voice carrying a hint of maternal reproach. “Why are you showering so early in the morning?”

Xie Zhiyi’s hair was only half-dry, draped loosely over her forest-green silk shirt. Her cheeks were still flushed from the steam. She wasn’t offended by the question; instead, she walked over and explained gently, “I woke up feeling a bit… scented. I couldn’t stand it, so I washed up.”

“Even so, you shouldn’t shower on an empty stomach,” Grandma’s tone softened, her eyes filled with genuine concern. “Showering hungry is bad for the body, don’t you know? Don’t be reckless just because you’re young. What if you get dizzy?”

Grandma paused, her mind momentarily stalling. She tilted her head as if trying to grasp a fleeting memory before giving up. “An old woman’s memory isn’t what it used to be. I’ll have Zhong-Zhong explain it to you later; she’s the one who told me.”

At the mention of Jiang Zhongmu, Xie Zhiyi’s mind drifted. For once, she didn’t pick up the conversation, pointedly avoiding the mention of the girl’s name.

“I understand, Grandma. I won’t do it again,” she said with a smile. Having elders in her own family, she was naturally patient and affectionate with the elderly.

“Good. Your health is your own,” Grandma nodded, then continued, “Zhong-Zhong made century egg and pork porridge this morning. It’s in the rice cooker on the ‘warm’ setting. It should still be hot, go eat.”

Xie Zhiyi was about to agree when Grandma added, “Zhong-Zhong just went out to the river to catch fish. When she comes back at noon, she’ll make you some fish soup. She learned how to make it from her godfather; it’s delicious.”

Xie Zhiyi’s expression froze. She didn’t know what was happening lately—the more she tried to avoid the girl, the more she seemed to permeate every second of her day. She thought of her when she woke up, when she showered, and even in her dreams…

She felt a sudden deflation of her resolve. She followed Grandma’s lead and asked, “She went to catch fish alone?”

“Don’t worry about her. That girl swims like a fish. She’s been soaking in that river with Xiao Xun since she was a toddler. You couldn’t drag her home; her father used to have to chase her with a switch,” Grandma reminisced with a chuckle.

“Xiao Xun?” Xie Zhiyi knit her brows at the name, recalling the scene of Jiang Zhongmu playing in the river with the boy.

“Her godfather’s son. He’s a bit older than her,” Grandma explained. Suddenly, she slapped her forehead. “Oh! He just ran over to drop off some medicine for her. I need to give it to her later.”

“Medicine?”

“Burn ointment. He said the stuff he gave her last time wasn’t working well, so he had someone buy a new one from the county seat.”

“When was she burned?” The woman who had spent all morning vowing to keep her distance suddenly blurted out the question, her curiosity overriding her resolve.

“He said it was during the few days I was away. I don’t know how she did it. That child has always been clumsy; bumps and bruises are normal for her. Don’t mind her,” Grandma waved it off. “Go on now, eat. Savory porridge is no good when it’s cold.”

Xie Zhiyi’s mind was stuck on one detail: The days Grandma was away.

She remembered that night,  the girl sitting by her bed, her face tight with guilt, tirelessly pouring hot water back and forth between cups to cool it for her.

Clumsy? Xie Zhiyi didn’t think so. In her eyes, Jiang Zhongmu was meticulously attentive and far more grounded than anyone her age.

The wind rustled through the champaca tree, sending white petals fluttering down. Damp patches on Xie Zhiyi’s green shirt began to spread, darkening the fabric. The clues she had been suppressing, the things she didn’t want to think too deeply about surfaced once more, tangling around her.

Xie Zhiyi grew pensive.

“Zhiyi?” Grandma’s voice pulled her back. “Why are you spacing out? Go eat.”

“Ah… right,” Xie Zhiyi answered hurriedly, turning back toward the house.

Before she got far, Grandma called out from behind her again. “Once you’re full, why don’t you go find Zhong-Zhong? Let her teach you how to catch fish!”

This time, Xie Zhiyi didn’t answer. She hurried into the kitchen. With a click, she opened the rice cooker, and the savory, sweet aroma of the porridge rushed out.

Xie Zhiyi stood there, her emotions a chaotic mess.

In front of her was the porridge Jiang Zhongmu made. In her head was the image of Jiang Zhongmu. And outside, Grandma was telling her to go play with Jiang Zhongmu.

The girl was everywhere. There was no escape.

She let out a heavy sigh. How can a kid be this annoying? She’s absolutely haunting me!

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