My cousin-in-law helped me achieve my ambitions.

"Okay!"

Su Ming felt as if he had been granted a pardon and practically fled the house.

He returned half an hour later.

Qiu Tong had already showered and changed her clothes. She was wearing loose floral shorts that revealed her fair and slender calves. On top, she wore a loose orange T-shirt with a large neckline that hung loosely on her shoulders.

Su Ming glanced at it and immediately knew—she wasn't wearing a bra inside.

He quickly looked away, took the purslane in his hand to the kitchen, and began to wash it.

Qiu Tong leaned against the kitchen door, watching him. Su Ming could feel her gaze on his back, as if it had a tangible weight to it.

"Make sure to wash the purslane thoroughly, but you can discard the roots," she reminded slowly.

"Um."

"Pound it firmly to get more juice."

"Um."

Su Ming kept his head down, focusing intently on washing the vegetables, removing the roots, and crushing them. A bluish-green juice seeped from the stone mortar, carrying the distinctive bitter aroma of herbs.

"What are you looking at?" Qiu Tong suddenly asked.

Su Ming paused, looked up, and met her gaze—it turned out that he had looked up at her at some point and she had caught him.

"No, I didn't see it," he denied, blushing.

Qiu Tong laughed and swayed her slender waist: "Come to the bathroom, and you can help me apply it."

"Why are you going to the restroom?" Su Ming asked, puzzled.

"Aren't you afraid of getting the floor dirty here?" Qiu Tong said matter-of-factly. "If you get the juice on your hands, I'll take off my shorts, and you can just wipe it on my back."

She waved and laughed, "Hurry up!"

Su Ming said "Oh," and followed after him, carrying the bowl of purslane juice.

The restroom wasn't big, and it felt a bit cramped for two people to stand inside. Qiu Tong stood sideways, one hand holding onto the wall, the other hooking the edge of her floral shorts and pulling them down a bit.

Her pale waistline was exposed. Further down, there was a small patch of skin above her buttocks—there were indeed a few small red bumps there, some of which had been scratched open, creating a red and white patch.

Su Ming didn't dare to look any longer. He picked up the bowl, dipped his fingers in purslane juice, and was about to smear it on her body.

"Hey!" Qiu Tong called out to him, "Could you check for me first to make sure it's eczema? Don't get it wrong, applying more cream will only make it worse. Look carefully."

"Huh?" Su Ming was stunned.

"Just look, I told you to." Qiu Tong's tone was a little impatient, but mostly helpless. "How can I apply the medicine if you don't look? Hurry up."

"Hmm!" Su Ming took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He moved closer and examined the red bumps carefully—the edges were slightly flaky, and the skin was slightly red, typical symptoms of eczema.

"Hmm, it's probably eczema." He tried to keep his voice steady.

"Then hurry up and apply the medicine for me!" Qiu Tong urged.

Su Ming stopped talking, dipped his finger in the green purslane juice, and let the juice drip down his fingers and onto his palm. He caught some in his palm, hesitated for a second, and then gently pressed it onto the red rash on Qiu Tong's buttocks.

The moment their palms touched each other's skin, they both trembled slightly.

Su Ming dared not use force, only gently applying the medicine with his fingertips, spreading it evenly. Her skin was very delicate, warm and moist from her recent bath. He could feel the contours of her skin beneath his fingertips, and her occasional slight trembling.

"hiss!"

Qiu Tong gasped, her body tensed for a moment, then relaxed.

"It's a bit exciting..." Her voice was a little tight. "It's okay, you can continue."

Su Ming sped up. After finally finishing, he immediately withdrew his hand and took a step back: "Done."

Qiu Tong pulled up her shorts, straightened up, and glanced back at him. Her face was also a little red, but her tone had returned to calm: "Oh my god, it's a little too exciting."

She paused, then walked out with her hips sticking out. She stopped abruptly at the door and turned back: "Oh, right, Su Ming, could you wash the underwear in the tub for me?"

She pointed to a small plastic basin in the corner of the bathroom: "And the stockings hanging on the wall, wash them separately. Remember, wash them separately."

"Huh?" Su Ming was stunned again.

"What's wrong? You don't want to help me?" Qiu Tong raised an eyebrow at him.

Su Ming opened his mouth, the word "inappropriate" hovering on his tongue, but he ultimately didn't say it. He nodded: "I'll help."

Qiu Tong left satisfied.

Su Ming stood in the bathroom, looking at the basin of unwashed underwear in the corner. A corner of the light-colored lace trim peeked out from the water, gently floating on the surface.

He bent down and put his hand into the water.

The fabric of the underwear was thin, and the lace trim slipped between his fingers. He scrubbed clumsily, soap bubbles overflowing from between his fingers and dissolving in the water.

As he washed, a scene suddenly flashed into his mind—last night in the VIP room at Golden Age, Xiaoqing and Alan sat beside him, one wearing black stockings, the other flesh-colored stockings. They were very close, their fragrance strong, their laughter soft and sweet. Alan's halter dress had a low neckline, and the color of her underwear could be vaguely seen.

It seems this beautiful woman is wearing lace trim.

My cousin's wife is also a lesbian.

Su Ming looked down at the wet wad of fabric in his hand and a thought suddenly popped into his head: Could this be their work uniform?

My cousin's wife... does she really work in a place like that?

This thought was like a thorn stuck in his heart, causing a dull ache.

He washed even harder.

"Su Ming, what are you doing?"

A voice suddenly came from behind.

Su Ming was startled and turned around abruptly—Qiu Tong was standing at the bathroom door at some point, tilting her head to look at him with a mischievous smile on her lips.

"You've been scrubbing my panties so hard, I'm really worried you'll tear them." Her voice was clearly teasing. "Are you washing clothes, or practicing your hand strength?"

Su Ming's face flushed red again, and his hand felt like it had been burned. He hurriedly put the wad of cloth back into the water: "Sister-in-law, I didn't... I didn't mean anything by it..."

"I didn't say you meant anything by it." Qiu Tong walked in, glanced at him, and said in a relaxed tone, "I just hope you can wash up quickly. You must be hungry, right? After you're done washing up, I'll take you to dinner."

She paused for a moment, then said, "I have to go to work tonight!"

work?

These two words struck Su Ming's heart like a heavy hammer. Why work at night? He wanted to ask, but dared not.

He lowered his head and vigorously rubbed the stocking in his hands. Water splashed up, wetting the edge of the sink.

Qiu Tong turned to leave.

"Cousin-in-law!"

After thinking for a long time, Su Ming finally spoke.

Qiu Tong stopped and looked back at him.

Su Ming looked up into her eyes. The question he wanted to ask had been stuck in his throat for a long time, like a heavy stone. At this moment, he could no longer hold back.

"Sister-in-law, are you...?" He paused, his voice tightening, "...working in a place like that?"

The restroom fell silent, save for the dripping sound of the faucet that wasn't turned off completely.

Qiu Tong looked at him without saying a word.

Su Ming held the damp stockings in his hands, his palms sweaty. He dared not look away, nor could he meet her eyes; he simply stared at her shoulder, waiting for her answer.

Time passed second by second.

Qiu Tong's eyelashes trembled slightly.

"Which place?" she asked, her voice soft and devoid of emotion.

Su Ming's throat tightened, and the name rolled on his tongue again and again before finally being squeezed out: "Golden Years".

The moment the name was uttered, the air seemed to freeze.

Qiu Tong looked at him with a complex expression. There was no anger, no panic, not even surprise. She simply looked at him quietly, like she was looking at a child who had done something wrong and was waiting for judgment.

a long time.

"You already know!" she said.