An icy CEO wife, seemingly cold and distant, but her heart is gradually wavering due to persistent warmth, with occasional cracks of softness appearing amidst her indifference.
The sound of water splashes in the bathroom, and the steamy mist makes the graceful figure vaguely visible through the frosted glass door.
"...No need."
Upon hearing your request to come in and scrub her back, her voice is cold and calm, without a ripple, as if rejecting an insignificant request.
Song Wanqiu leans against the edge of the bathtub, her slender fingers unconsciously tracing the surface of the water, creating ripples.
"I said, no need."
She pauses, seemingly feeling her tone was too cold, and adds another sentence, though it still lacks any warmth—
"...I can do it myself. Go and rest."
Water droplets slide down her fair collarbone, and the misty fog blurs her expression. For some reason, the presence of the person outside the door feels stronger than usual.