A White Cloud (GL ABO) - Chapter 17

When Shen Zhiqing returned home in the evening, the door of the house across from hers was tightly closed, not letting even a sliver of light escape.

She guessed that person wouldn’t be so irrational, so she didn’t knock, turned, and entered her own home, deliberately making more noise as she closed the door.

After her shower, as she stepped out of the bathroom, the doorbell rang, as expected.

She opened the door, wrapped in a bathrobe.

Tomb Cheng had shed her jacket, wearing a black tank top and pants.

The bright hallway light shone on her face, her expression unreadable as she looked at Shen Zhiqing.

“Come in,” Shen Zhiqing said, tying her bathrobe belt and stepping back.

Water droplets clung to her wet, long hair, dripping and leaving wet marks on the floor where she stepped.

Tomb Cheng frowned at the watermarks but followed her inside.

This was Tomb Cheng’s first time entering Shen Zhiqing’s private space.

Though they clung to each other during every heat in high school, comforting each other, Shen Zhiqing had never revealed anything personal about herself.

Shen Zhiqing led her inside.

A large bed stood in the center of the living room, facing a floor-to-ceiling window.

A huge wooden folding screen divided the space, and there were no traces of anyone else having been there.

With no spare shoes for her, Tomb Cheng stepped barefoot onto the hardwood floor.

Shen Zhiqing wore slippers, the cotton soles making soft scraping sounds against the floor.

Tomb Cheng’s gaze caught on the screen’s scenery—a delicate, wing-like embroidery of mountains and rivers.

Moonlight from the window cast shimmering reflections on it.

She had only glimpsed it briefly before, but now she studied it closely.

“Like it?” Shen Zhiqing asked, emerging from the bathroom, wiping water from her hair ends with a towel.

The apartment wasn’t large but had two bedrooms.

Tomb Cheng wondered why she moved the bed to the living room.

She examined the screen again, looked away, and said, “No.”

She was just surprised by Shen Zhiqing’s decor, though it somehow suited her enigmatic personality.

Unnoticed, Shen Zhiqing quietly observed her expression.

Confirming the Alpha showed no anger, she walked to the bed, pulled Tomb Cheng along, and sat down heavily.

Tomb Cheng looked at her, puzzled, her brows slightly disapproving.

Her hair was still wet.

Shen Zhiqing stuffed the towel into her hands, wrapped her arms around her waist, rested her chin on Tomb Cheng’s abdomen, her jaw against firm muscles, and looked up, saying, “If you want to pry, dry my hair first.”

Water droplets fell onto the white bathrobe, leaving small wet rings.

Her slightly curled hair draped over her back.

Fresh from the shower, her body radiates warmth, the scent of her bath blending with the faint cherry blossom fragrance in the air, sweet and refreshing, like early spring.

The March air was still cool.

Worried she’d catch a cold, Tomb Cheng took the towel and agreed, “Mm,” without pulling away the arms around her.

Shen Zhiqing enjoyed her care, just like every time before.

Tomb Cheng’s fingertips moved through her hair, her palm brushing her neck, lifting wet strands to dry them, her expression focused and careful, as if handling a treasure.

The soft towel and gentle pressure tugged at Shen Zhiqing’s light brown hair, stirring her racing heart.

Such tenderness was rare between them.

Even after past intimacies, Tomb Cheng would hold her in the shower and carefully dry her hair, but a distance always remained.

Shen Zhiqing knew that invisible wall was her doing, her stubborn choice to thicken it, fully separating them.

Feeling the arms tighten around her waist, Tomb Cheng asked, “Does it hurt?”

The person clinging to her shook her head, rubbed her face against her, and said, muffled, “No.”

Tomb Cheng asked no more, continued drying, the towel only half-drying her hair.

Following Shen Zhiqing’s instructions, she found the hairdryer in the bathroom.

The gentle airflow blew through her hair, the sound of the breeze audible in her ears.

To avoid burning her, Tomb Cheng dried from root to tip, her palm passing over every strand.

Shen Zhiqing relaxed, nearly falling asleep, until the hairdryer stopped, and the room’s warmth returned to quiet.

Tomb Cheng set the hairdryer down, arranged her hair, letting the slightly curled strands fall neatly to her shoulders and back.

Through the slightly open bathrobe, faint kiss marks showed on her alluring collarbone.

“Done,” Tomb Cheng said from above.

Shen Zhiqing clung to her, reluctant to let go, but adjusted her breathing, took a deep inhale of the Alpha’s scent, straightened, and left her embrace.

Her once-wet hair was now dry, the room’s tenderness blown away.

One stood, one sat, their height difference stark.

Seeing Shen Zhiqing stare at the floor, barefoot Tomb Cheng felt awkward, coughed quietly, squatted, and sat cross-legged, her height advantage allowing her to meet Shen Zhiqing’s eyes with a slight tilt.

The Alpha wore glasses, her eyes behind the lenses showing no emotion.

“Didn’t you study clinical medicine, Senior? Why are you in psychiatry?” Shen Zhiqing stayed silent, so Tomb Cheng softened her tone and asked gently.

“It’s always ‘why’…” Tomb Cheng began.

Before she could say “become Yiyi’s doctor,” Shen Zhiqing interrupted, “It’s a coincidence.”

Tomb Cheng sat quietly on the floor, waiting for her to continue.

Her shoulder-length black hair was tied low, her hands rested on her knees, her expression soft, her gaze clear and harmless.

Light from inside and outside clung to her.

Shen Zhiqing’s hidden hand unconsciously gripped her bathrobe’s hem, moistened her throat, and said, “After you left, I switched majors in my senior year.”

Once she started, the rest came easier.

“When that child arrived, I had just become an attending doctor. I was on duty and took her case.”

It was indeed a coincidence, but when Shen Zhiqing later discovered Xu Yiyi’s legal connection to Tomb Cheng, she grew selfish.

Tomb Cheng had left completely, and the military was strict.

Shen Zhiqing knew she didn’t want to see her, so she relied on Xiaomi’s occasional talks to hear about Tomb Cheng.

Unlike her, Xiaomi used connections to reach Tomb Cheng, openly thanked her, and became her friend.

After Xu Yiyi came to the hospital, Shen Zhiqing could openly hide in the consultation room, listening sideways as Xu Yiyi called Tomb Cheng, hearing her gentle voice through the door, coaxing her daughter.

She eavesdropped clumsily, nothing like herself.