Xiao Zai dumped the contents of the two pails into the tub, filling it up enough for the water to submerge a person.
He kept chancing Chu Yun looks from the corner of his eyes as he worked. He was sitting up in bed, a nest of mussed sheets pooling around his lap. His white tails curled around the side of his legs, his fox ears flattened in suspicion. Xiao Zai could see the barest hint of yellow from his narrowed eyes.
The sun was coming in into the room from the window behind Chu Yun. The oiled-paper panes diffused the light, enveloping him in a cold glow. His slender chest showed the marks of Xiao Zai's passion, a trail of finger-shaped bruises stood out starkly over the jut of his sharp hipbone.
He was breathtaking, but Xiao Zai didn't think he would appreciate it if he told him that.
It wasn't that Chu Yun was self-conscious about his looks, he was aware of his beauty but he treated it as a fact -- one it didn't bear remarking upon.
