Three Sentences That Made My Ex-Wife Spit Blood - Chapter 31

Xiaoxi stared at Sister Qing in disbelief. “You came to help me dry my hair?”

Sister Qing nodded calmly and walked in, reaching out to take the hairdryer from where Xiaoxi had hung it.

Xiaoxi stepped back, still holding onto a sliver of pride. “I can do it myself.”

“You can, but I want to help,” Sister Qing replied gently, already plugging in the hairdryer and testing the heat with her hand.

The warm breeze brushed past her fingers, and she motioned for Xiaoxi to sit down.

Xiaoxi hesitated. There was something strange about this whole situation. Since when was Sister Qing so considerate? And why did it feel like she was slowly becoming more and more involved in everything?

She sat down cautiously, her eyes watching Sister Qing through the mirror.

Sister Qing stood behind her, one hand gathering her slightly damp hair, the other holding the dryer at just the right distance. Her movements were gentle, even patient.

Xiaoxi, at first tense and guarded, found herself relaxing gradually. The whirring sound of the dryer, the warm air wrapping around her neck, and the fingers that occasionally brushed against her scalp, all made her feel oddly comforted.

It reminded her of something from her past life.

Back then, it had also been like this. A moment when everything between them had quieted. No arguing, no resistance. Just a strange, calm closeness.

“Don’t move. You’ll catch a cold if this part isn’t dry,” Sister Qing said softly, tilting her head to check the back of Xiaoxi’s neck.

Xiaoxi mumbled something under her breath. “I wasn’t moving.”

Sister Qing didn’t respond, but the corners of her lips lifted just a little.

The blow-drying went on for a few more minutes. Xiaoxi closed her eyes. The warm air, the steady hands, and the subtle scent of Sister Qing’s cologne made her feel drowsy.

When Sister Qing finally turned off the hairdryer and gently fluffed her hair, Xiaoxi opened her eyes and blinked slowly.

“All done,” Sister Qing said, putting the hairdryer back in its place.

Xiaoxi turned to look at her. “Why are you being so nice?”

Sister Qing didn’t answer right away. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Xiaoxi quietly.

“You’re pregnant. You should be taken care of.”

“Even if the baby isn’t yours?” Xiaoxi asked, half testing, half taunting.

Sister Qing leaned back slightly, arms resting on her lap.

“Even if the baby isn’t mine,” she said softly, “I’ll still look after you.”

Xiaoxi was stunned. For a second, she didn’t know what to say. The expression on Sister Qing’s face wasn’t cold or distant. It was just calm, maybe even a little tired.

“You’re so weird lately,” Xiaoxi muttered, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Maybe,” Sister Qing replied.

The silence between them lingered for a few moments, neither warm nor cold, just quiet.

Sister Qing stood up and walked to the door. Before stepping out, she turned back slightly.

“Come to bed soon. Try not to stay up late.”

Then she left.

Xiaoxi looked at the closed door, her mind a mess of confusion.

What was Sister Qing thinking? What was she feeling? And why was it so hard to believe she didn’t care?

She leaned back into the bed and stared at the ceiling, suddenly unable to remember what she had been upset about earlier.

The only thing she was sure of now… was that her heart had started to ache again.

She just wanted to see what Wen Huaxi was doing.

“You’re really being that kind?” Wen Huaxi found it hard to believe.

Still, there was no reason to turn down help when a servant was right there.

She opened the door and let Yan Qinglan in, then walked toward the bathroom.

Ever since Wen Huaxi had moved into the newlywed suite, Yan Qinglan had never stepped foot in that room.

Now that she had come in, she didn’t bother looking around. She simply followed Wen Huaxi, her eyes calm and obedient.

Bedrooms were always the most private places.

And tonight, they had both entered each other’s bedrooms.

Yan Qinglan didn’t stop to think about what that meant to her restless heart.

All she knew was that she was happy. So happy, in fact, that she was willing to blow-dry Wen Huaxi’s hair.

Normally, she found these things troublesome. Mostly because not everyone could wash hair as cleanly as she could.

If it had been someone else asking her to blow-dry their hair, Yan Qinglan probably would have thrown the dryer at their head.

But this was Wen Huaxi.

Yan Qinglan gently ran her fingers through Wen Huaxi’s rose-colored hair, slowly smoothing it.

“Was this how your hair always looked, Xiao Xi?” she asked, noticing there wasn’t a single black strand at the roots.

“Kind of. The ends are dyed. I added some layers.” Otherwise, why else would her birth parents have abandoned her?

It was all because of her red hair. They thought she looked like a freak.

Her hair used to be even darker, with a reddish brown tone.

When she was still in school, teachers would often stop her and ask why she dyed it.

Later, her older sister wrote her a medical certificate.

Eventually, Wen Huaxi got fed up and secretly cut her hair short, thinking it would make her less of a target.

But the trouble had never been the hair. The trouble was her.

“It’s beautiful.” Yan Qinglan’s voice was soft. The color really suited her.

She used her fingers like a comb, gently brushing through the strands again and again. Then she picked up the hairdryer and began drying her hair with practiced ease.

Yan Qinglan didn’t ask any unnecessary questions. She just gave her a compliment.

Wen Huaxi’s lashes trembled. A few droplets clung to them as the warm air from the dryer made her almond-shaped eyes half close.

In college, many people had told her how pretty her hair was.

Some of her admirers even wrote long letters, using the most poetic language to describe the same hair that had once caused her so much trouble.

They believed that kind of flattery might make her happy, and maybe, just maybe, she would accept their love.

But Yan Qinglan only said one sentence. Just like the very first time they met.

Yet Wen Huaxi was always moved by it.

Not because of the words themselves, but because she could feel how sincere Yan Qinglan was.

It wasn’t surface-level admiration. It was something genuine and quiet, hidden deep within.

“Really?” In two lifetimes, Wen Huaxi had only heard that compliment twice.

Tonight was the third. And for the first time, she truly wanted to hear it again, just to be sure.

Maybe it was because Yan Qinglan was so brilliant and outstanding. Her praise was rare, always straightforward. Even if someone didn’t like her, they would still feel happy to be complimented by her.

“Yes. Like a rose. Or a sunset. It suits you very much.” Her fingertips slid to the ends of her hair, then lightly touched her scalp again.

Wen Huaxi shivered slightly. The touch felt like a soft summer breeze. So gentle.

“You’ve been playing on your phone for ten minutes. Time to take a break.” A moment later, Yan Qinglan tapped the case of Wen Huaxi’s phone as a reminder.

“Oh come on, I barely get two hours of phone time a day, and you’re already telling me to rest? Are you even human?” Wen Huaxi grumbled, turning away slightly to avoid Yan Qinglan’s hand.

“Then I’ll give you fifteen more minutes. It’s already late. Once your hair is dry, it’s time for bed.”

Yan Qinglan did a quick calculation. Fifteen minutes would be enough to dry all of Wen Huaxi’s fluffy hair.

“You’re so strict. Are you really going to sleep with me?” Wen Huaxi gave her one last chance to back out.

“Yes. We’ll sleep together.” Yan Qinglan said it clearly, watching closely for Wen Huaxi’s reaction.

Wen Huaxi’s fox-like eyes sparkled. Who knew what kind of mischief she was planning?

Once Yan Qinglan confirmed it, Wen Huaxi began counting off on her fingers, stacking excuses for herself.

“I sleep messy. I drool. I roll around. I kick off the blankets.”

“Oh right, I might snore. And talk in my sleep. I can’t control my hands either. They’ll probably end up all over you. If I touch you inappropriately, just know I’m apologizing in advance.”

After saying that, Wen Huaxi looked up and winked at Yan Qinglan.

“Let’s go, Sister Qing. Time for bed.”

Her hair was fully dry now. Wen Huaxi took Yan Qinglan’s hand and started pulling her toward her room.

She even used some force.

But she didn’t manage to move her.

She knew it.

Wen Huaxi’s heart jumped with quiet joy.

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