Yan Yu could clearly feel the fabric at her back as the zipper separated, spreading open little by little.
Cool air seeped in through the widening gap.
Her heart pounded like a drum against her eardrums, her cheeks burning.
She didn’t dare watch Bai Yan’er’s movements.
She could only turn her head and stare fixedly at the decorative painting on the opposite wall.
She was very uncomfortable.
She had long been used to facing her illness and her mess alone.
Even during the three years Su Qinghan had accompanied her, the so‑called “care” had mostly been conducted with a distant, business‑like detachment.
But the words of refusal had already reached her tongue, yet she couldn’t spit them out no matter what.
It was she herself who had accepted the jacket Bai Yan’er had draped over her shoulders at the hospital entrance, and allowed her to push her here.
It was she herself who couldn’t handle her current predicament and needed someone else’s help.
Since she had chosen to accept such overly warm goodwill, acting coy and refusing now would seem both pretentious and ungrateful.
She could only sit stiffly and let Bai Yan’er do as she pleased.
The zipper was fully open.
Bai Yan’er’s hands rested on her shoulders.
“Sister, lift your arm a little.”
Her voice was very soft.
Like a puppet, Yan Yu slightly lifted one arm.
Bai Yan’er carefully slipped the dress strap off her shoulder, then the other side.
The soft cotton fabric slipped from her shoulders.
Then came her waist.
Bai Yan’er bent down, gripped both sides of the skirt’s waistband, and slowly pulled the skirt down from Yan Yu’s shoulders.
This process inevitably brought more physical contact.
Occasionally, Bai Yan’er’s fingers brushed against the skin on Yan Yu’s waist.
“……”
Yan Yu gritted her teeth to keep from making any sound.
When the skirt reached her hips, it encountered a little resistance.
Bai Yan’er didn’t hesitate at all.
She leaned forward slightly, one arm circling Yan Yu’s shoulders, the other supporting the bend of her legs, and with a little effort—
“Mm—wait!”
Yan Yu let out a light cry.
She felt her body become weightless, and she was lifted half‑carried off the wheelchair cushion.
A wave of shame surged into her heart.
Yan Yu’s body was even lighter than it looked.
Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed the fabric of Bai Yan’er’s shoulder, her five fingers closing to create wrinkles in the shirt.
Bai Yan’er held her steadily, taking advantage of the position to quickly remove the completely loosened dress from her legs and ankles, tossing it aside onto a plastic chair.
Then she carefully placed Yan Yu back on the wheelchair.
The whole process took only about a dozen seconds, yet it felt as long as a century.
When Yan Yu felt the cold touch of the wheelchair cushion again, she was left with only her underwear and panties.
The cool white light of the energy‑saving lamp shone on her without reservation.
Yan Yu lowered her head, her long hair cascading to cover most of her face.
She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, her body trembling uncontrollably.
Bai Yan’er stood before her, one step away.
Her gaze slowly moved down from the top of Yan Yu’s bowed head, finally stopping at the edge of her pure white panties and the faint dark red traces still visible on her inner thighs.
Her breath caught slightly.
Yan Yu’s voice was as faint as a mosquito’s, carrying shame: “I—I can do the rest myself… please turn around…”
Bai Yan’er didn’t move.
She tilted her head slightly, looking at Yan Yu’s flushed cheeks and arms so pale from the force of her grip.
Her gaze lingered on Yan Yu for a moment, then slowly rose to meet Yan Yu’s evasive eyes.
“Sister, do you really not need my help?”
Her voice was still soft, but it brushed against Yan Yu’s taut nerves like a feather.
Yan Yu felt her throat dry.
She swallowed with difficulty, using almost all her strength to force out a few words through gritted teeth: “N—no need… and besides… the clothes are very dirty, I’ll wash them myself…”
“Dirty?”
Bai Yan’er repeated the word, her tone rising slightly at the end with a peculiar nuance.
She suddenly laughed.
Under the cold light, the smile seemed especially pure, even naive.
“I’ve never thought that Sister had any part that was ‘dirty.’”
As she spoke, she not only didn’t turn around, but took another step forward, so close that Yan Yu could clearly see her own reflection in Bai Yan’er’s eyes, and a certain searing emotion deep in those pupils.
“This is part of Sister’s body, a very natural thing. Why should you think it’s dirty?”
She lowered her voice even more, her gaze falling back to that mark, ambiguous.
“Let me clean you up, okay? Sister doesn’t have to feel embarrassed.”
Yan Yu’s heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand, and even breathing became difficult.
Bai Yan’er’s words and eyes seemed to dissolve all her shame and resistance.
But it was precisely this gentleness that made her even more at a loss, as if she were wrapped in honey that was too hot—sweet yet suffocating.
Then Bai Yan’er reached out and began to undo the clasp of Yan Yu’s bra.
The icy touch of her fingertips made Yan Yu shudder.
Instinctively she wanted to curl up, but the closeness of the other person and her breath pinned her in place.
The clasp came undone with a soft “click.”
The feeling of restraint disappeared instantly, and with it, that fragile sense of security.
The bra slipped off silently.
Yan Yu felt her skin exposed to the cool air, and along with it, the last crumbling line of defense.
No, this absolutely cannot happen…
I can’t let my little sister touch me there…
Just as those cold fingers were about to touch the edge of her panties, Yan Yu suddenly snapped back to her senses.
Using all her strength, she grabbed Bai Yan’er’s wrist, her voice hoarse with urgency and pleading: “That’s enough, that’s enough! There’s a washing machine over there. Just—just put the clothes in to wash!”
Bai Yan’er stopped.
She looked at Yan Yu’s hand tightly guarding herself, and at those eyes full of panic and pleading.
She was silent for a few seconds, then smiled softly.
‘Finally resisting, Sister.’
‘But no rush.’
‘The net has to be cast slowly, tightened little by little.’
‘Let it end here today, and let Sister slowly get used to my closeness.’
“Alright, I’ll listen to Sister.”
She didn’t insist.
She bent down, picked up the clothes from the floor, and turned toward the washing machine.
The drum started spinning.
The regular noise filled the bathroom, but it couldn’t drown out Yan Yu’s pounding heart.
Yan Yu wrapped herself tightly in a towel and looked at Bai Yan’er, her expression still carrying lingering embarrassment.
“Sister, the courier will deliver your new change of clothes soon.”
Bai Yan’er leaned against the doorframe, her tone regaining some of its usual softness.
“Let me help you take a bath, and then you can put them on.”
“I can bathe myself.”
Yan Yu insisted, her voice a little weak.
She needed some space, some room to sort out this mess and chaos on her own.
“Is it so bad to let me help?”
Bai Yan’er tilted her head, her eyes clear but stubborn.
“No…”
Yan Yu took a deep breath, trying to clear her thoughts, her voice uncertain and probing: “Yan’er, don’t you think our relationship has gotten a little too close? Calm down a bit—we’re still sisters.”
“But that’s only in name, isn’t it?”
The smile at the corner of Bai Yan’er’s mouth deepened as she stepped closer.
“We have no legal relationship, no blood ties. And besides…”
Her gaze locked onto Yan Yu, the skin of Yan Yu’s wrist she was touching burning with heat.
“Since I’ve said this much, and Sister hasn’t hated me, then why not let this ‘relationship’ go a little deeper?”