The bathroom tiles shimmered with warm mist, while the hot water in the bath bubbled, sending up clouds of white steam, filling the whole space with a soft, hazy warmth.
Yiyi clung to the door frame, peeking inside.
Her gaze had just fallen on the steamy surface of the water when she suddenly dropped her head.
Her own little feet were caked in dirt, with grime even hiding between her toes, completely out of place in this spotless bathroom.
She quietly clenched her tiny fists, a single thought in her mind: slip away.
Just as she tiptoed to turn around, her arm was gently caught by a warm hand, and in the next moment, she was securely brought to the side.
“What—what are you doing?!”
Yiyi was startled like a frightened bunny, her whole body tensing in an instant, hands instinctively shielding her front.
Her cheeks flushed crimson in a flash, even the tips of her ears burning hot, and her voice trembled with an unhidden panic.
She tried hard to pull her arm back, but Xiamir’s grip was steady; no matter how she struggled, it didn’t budge in the slightest.
“I’m helping you undress, what else could I be doing?”
Xiamir’s voice was gentle and soft, as if coaxing a child.
“Little babies take baths with their mothers’ help, right? And Yibao is a little baby too.”
As soon as these words came out, Yiyi grew even more anxious.
She leaned her small body back as far as she could, nearly lifting her toes off the floor, her little arms flailing like tiny whips, but she still couldn’t break free from that hand.
“I’m not a little baby!” she shouted, craning her neck, her small brows furrowed into knots, her lips pouting enough to hang a little spoon on: “I can take off my clothes by myself! I don’t need you, and I’m not your baby either!”
She tried her best to look “fierce,” but her voice still carried that childish tone.
Her flushed cheeks and wide, round eyes made her look more like an angry little kitten than anything threatening.
Xiamir lowered her head to watch Yiyi’s “baring fangs and claws” display, a smile blooming in her eyes.
Her fingertips gently caressed the delicate skin of Yiyi’s wrist, her tone growing even softer.
“Really don’t need help? Then, Yibao, tell me, why were you sneaking away just now?”
Yiyi was stumped by the question and instinctively struggled again, but her wrist was gently pulled back, bringing her a bit closer to Xiamir.
“Aiya,” Xiamir held back her laughter, deliberately teasing Yiyi: “Yibao, you know, the more you act tough like this, the more it proves you can’t do without me.”
“I—I don’t! You’re talking nonsense!”
Yiyi stomped her foot in frustration, her little face turning even redder.
She tried with all her might to pull her hand away but was still held firmly.
All she could do was glare angrily at Xiamir, looking like a puffed-up kitten with no real bite.
Xiamir looked at her, the smile in her eyes deepening, but her voice remained gentle, tinged with seriousness: “I’m not making things up. All Young Dragons long for their mother’s love—it’s instinct.”
“I don’t believe it! There’s no way I would want you to love me! Absolutely not!”
Yiyi craned her neck, turning her face away, but her voice had grown weaker, as if afraid her words might be exposed.
She quietly clenched the corner of her clothes, toes digging unconsciously at the floor, the heat in her ears showing no sign of fading, even the back of her neck tinged pink.
“Alright, alright, you’ll know soon enough. For now, let’s get you bathed—it’s already so late.”
Xiamir, seeing her stubborn-yet-soft demeanor, stopped teasing.
She gently patted the back of Yiyi’s hand, her tone as soft as melted honey: “Alright, alright, you’ll know soon enough. For now, let’s get you bathed—it’s already so late.”
While Yiyi was still stunned by their earlier exchange, Xiamir swiftly and gently helped her out of her clothes.
By the time Yiyi snapped back, she looked down to see her own bare body, her eyes going wide as saucers, her face instantly turning red as a ripe fruit.
“Wait—what are you doing?!” she cried, flustered and embarrassed, her little hands scrambling to cover herself, a bit of aggrieved childishness in her voice.
“Let’s go, bath time,” Xiamir said, scooping Yiyi up gently in her arms. As they reached the edge of the tub, she even shielded Yiyi’s eyes with her palm, lest the steam sting them.
She carefully placed Yiyi into the warm water, her fingertips softly brushing over Yiyi’s hair.
As she used a fluffy towel to wash Yiyi’s little arms and belly, she spoke softly: “Mother will head back tomorrow, and you, you’ll stay here and play for a few days. When the time comes, I’ll come pick you up.”
“What?”
Yiyi jerked her head up, her eyes growing even wider, pupils full of surprise and panic, her small body shrinking further into the water.
“I’m going to be here with the vampires alone? Aren’t you afraid I’ll run away, or get caught and sucked into a little bun?”
At that, Xiamir couldn’t help but laugh, her hands not pausing as she teased:”With your Aunt Lilith around, what’s there to be scared of? In the whole clan, besides her, I doubt anyone dares take a bite of you.”
Seeing Yiyi pursing her lips and saying nothing, eyes still holding a trace of panic, she teased on purpose: “What’s this, Yibao is already starting to want her mother’s love and protection? Give me your cutest pout—if you do it well, I might consider taking you home tonight.”
“I don’t want to.”
Yiyi turned her face away, mumbling softly, then couldn’t help but glance back at Xiamir, a bit unsure as she asked, “But are you really not worried I’ll run away?”
Xiamir paused in her washing, reaching out to gently pinch Yiyi’s flushed cheek, her voice full of gentle certainty: “Not at all. Because you’re a Young Dragon, and Young Dragons have a natural dependence on their mothers. If your mother—me—leaves for more than a week, I guarantee you’ll start looking for me everywhere.”
“You’ll search from the bedroom to the garden, from the garden to the castle gates, and if you can’t find me, you’ll sit on the steps, lips quivering and eyes full of tears, calling ‘Mother, where are you?’—don’t be embarrassed when that happens!”
As she spoke, she even imitated a child’s teary voice, making Yiyi flush with a mix of anger and shame.
Yiyi swatted her hand away, but didn’t argue this time, just buried her little face in the water.
Only her two big, wet eyes peeked out, glaring secretly at Xiamir.
“Alright, all done—time for bed.”
Xiamir picked up a clean towel and wrapped Yiyi gently, still as gentle as ever.
Yiyi lay against her, nuzzling the towel with her little head, not saying a word, just giving a muffled “Mm”—her ears still tinged with pink.
The warm light in the room remained on, its gentle glow falling on the plush-matted bed.
After her bath, Yiyi was placed on the bed by Xiamir.
Not long after, she sat with her little head drooping.
Silvery hair fell over her cheeks, her tiny body rising and falling with her even breaths—she had already drifted off into sweet sleep.
Xiamir came in with a cup of water.
Just as she was about to climb into bed, she saw the scene and slowed her steps, even her breathing becoming quieter.
She crept to the bedside and looked down at the little one sleeping upright.
Yiyi’s small hand still clutched the edge of the blanket, her brows slightly furrowed, as if still clinging to some of the day’s little sulks in her dreams, her mouth gently pouting—looking soft and sweet.
“This child, how does she fall asleep sitting up like that?”
Xiamir murmured, unable to help a helpless yet gentle smile.
She reached out, gently brushing Yiyi’s curled bangs aside.
Her fingertips touched Yiyi’s warm cheek—smooth and delicate.
Carefully, she eased Yiyi’s little body down, moving with great care.
Just as she settled her, Yiyi seemed disturbed.
Her little brow creased tighter, mouth moved, and she uttered a barely audible murmur, her hands grabbing aimlessly at the air.
“Mm…”
Xiamir immediately stopped, gently patting Yiyi’s back, her voice soft as a feather: “Be good, Yibao, go to sleep.”
As if soothed by that familiar comfort, Yiyi gradually calmed down, her little head nuzzling into the pillow.
Her small hand settled quietly at her side, brows slowly relaxing, her breathing becoming steady and long once again.
Only then did Xiamir breathe a sigh of relief.
She turned and softly blew out the bedside lamp, leaving only a dim wall sconce to light the edge of the bed.
She lay down next to Yiyi, turning on her side to watch the sleeping little one.
Moonlight slipped through the gap in the curtains, casting a pale halo across her face.
Looking at Yiyi’s peaceful sleeping face, Xiamir couldn’t help but reach out and gently hold her tiny hand, fingers tracing the lines of her palm.
The image of that fierce, stubborn Young Dragon from earlier still lingered in her mind.
But now, she was as quiet as a kitten with its claws tucked away, making Xiamir’s heart melt.
“Silly child—so dependent, yet trying so hard to act unafraid.”
Xiamir lowered her head and pressed a feather-light kiss to Yiyi’s forehead, her voice so low only she could hear.
“Mother’s right here. No need to be afraid.”
With that, she gently adjusted their position so Yiyi could rest more comfortably against her side, still holding her little hand in her palm.
The room fell completely silent, only the sound of their even breaths interlacing.