Steam wafted through the bathroom as Zhao Tian sat on a low stool, his hair damp and unruly after the soak.
Yao Jing, who was wearing robes, walked to the side and retrieved a towel as she walked to him.
"Honestly, you're like a child sometimes," she murmured, stepping closer.
Yao Jing draped the towel over his head and with delicate motions, she began to dry his hair.
Her fingers worked through the strands, brushing them back as she moved the towel gently, soaking up the excess water.
"I don't know why I'm doing this," she muttered, lifting a section of his hair to start brushing.
"You're perfectly capable of drying your own hair."
Smiling, he glanced at her "But your hands are much gentler... spoil me."
"Yeah, yeah, stay still."
He obeyed, leaning forward slightly to give her better access and her hands moved lower, carefully brushing away the droplets of water clinging to the nape of his neck.