Does Cheng Che know how to fix a washing machine?
Really good.
Cheng Jianguo used to be a technician in the factory. He repaired his own washing machine, refrigerator, and water heater when they broke down.
Cheng Che had been watching from the sidelines since he was little, being handed a wrench and tightened a screw, and through this constant exposure, he had learned a few tricks himself.
Su Miaoyin stepped aside to let him in.
This was the first time Cheng Che had entered a girl's room.
The house wasn't big, but it was very clean.
The layout was the same as his room across the hall, a one-bedroom apartment, but Su Miaoyin had clearly put thought into the decor.
A beige knitted blanket was spread on the sofa, and several books and a ceramic mug with a kitten printed on the inside were on the coffee table.
There was a potted green ivy in the corner, its leaves hanging down the trellis, trailing quite long.
Two pots of succulents sat on the windowsill, and a string of wind chimes hung beside them. The window was slightly ajar, and when the wind blew, the chimes tinkled and jingled.
There was a very faint smell of laundry detergent in the air; it was clean and hygienic.
"The washing machine is in the bathroom," Su Miaoyin pointed in that direction.
Cheng Che went inside and squatted down to examine it.
Su Miaoyin stood behind him, leaning against the door frame.
The bathroom was small, and the lighting was warm and yellow.
Cheng Che squatted down in front of the washing machine, first looked at the control panel, then opened the filter cover and shone his phone's flashlight inside.
Then he reached out and touched the drain pipe connector, tapping the pipe wall lightly with his fingertips.
The bathroom was very quiet.
The only sound was him fiddling with the washing machine.
Su Miaoyin stood behind him, watching him.
[ The Heartthrob of Ten Thousand ] quietly began to operate in the quiet environment where the two of them were alone.
With 73 points of charm, plus the fact that he used up the entire Perfect series of shampoo, toothpaste, eye drops, hand cream, and body wash.
His eyes, skin, hair, teeth—every part of him was perfectly presented.
The Cheng Che that fans see in videos online, separated by screens and filters, is never his most perfect self.
At this moment, less than two meters away, Su Miaoyin was carefully observing.
She has a secret.
She has a hand fetish.
Cheng Che squatted on the ground, his hands resting on the washing machine's filter cover.
He tilted his head slightly, looking at the pipe joint, his fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of the cover.
Su Miaoyin's gaze fell from his hand to his fingernails.
Clean, neat, and trimmed extremely short, yet without the harshness of a forced cut.
The nail bed is a healthy light pink, the lunula is clear, and each nail is rounded and full, with a thin layer of luster under the warm yellow light.
Her gaze drifted downwards.
Below the nail is the first knuckle, the skin is evenly white with almost no color difference, and the knuckle is slightly curved, revealing a small section of veins.
The skin on that index finger was so smooth that you could see the pores, yet there were no visible blemishes.
Her gaze lingered on his fingers.
Tall and slender, but not thin.
The knuckles are distinct, the bone structure is clear, and the length and thickness of each knuckle are just right.
His thumb pressed against the pipe joint, his fingertip tightening slightly, leaving a very shallow indentation.
In her eyes, that mark looked like a precisely designed arc.
Her gaze shifted to the back of his hand.
The skin on the back of my hand was so white it shone, and a few very faint veins extended from my wrist, meandering between my knuckles.
A small, pointed protrusion of the wrist bone peeks out from the cuff, so clean it looks like it's been smoothed out with photo editing software.
He twisted his wrist, the wrist bone sliding slightly under the skin. Watching that movement, she felt as if she had seen something she shouldn't have.
She swallowed unconsciously.
My mouth feels a little dry.
Do you have any tools?
Cheng Che's voice suddenly rang out.
Su Miaoyin suddenly came to her senses.
"What?"
"Tools," Cheng Che glanced back at her, "A screwdriver will do."
Su Miaoyin's face flushed red.
She covered her mouth, turned around, and quickly walked out of the bathroom.
She leaned against the living room wall, breathing heavily.
She said to herself.
You clearly like Yan Ruanning.
She is a woman.
How could you possibly be interested in a man?
And this person is also your love rival.
She screamed frantically in her mind, trying to wake herself up.
Then she lowered her head in dejection.
She's not uneducated, not brainless, and doesn't deceive herself.
When she looked at those hands just now, her heart raced and her mouth went dry; those were reactions she couldn't lie to herself.
She likes Yan Ruanning.
But she also thought Cheng Che's hands were very beautiful.
These two issues are coexisting, and she doesn't know how to handle them.
She let out a breath, picked up her toolbox, and went back to the bathroom.
Cheng Che was squatting on the ground when he turned around and glanced at her.
"Found it?"
"Um."
Su Miaoyin squatted down, opened the toolbox, and handed him a screwdriver.
She didn't realize that her voice was unusually soft when she spoke, so softly it sounded like she was coaxing someone.
"Give."
Cheng Che took the screwdriver and began to remove the filter cover.
As he unpacked it, he said, "If you're not feeling well, go and rest. I'll take you to see a doctor later."
Su Miaoyin was taken aback.
"What?"
"Your voice sounds off." Cheng Che didn't even turn his head. "It's a little hoarse, and your face is red. Do you have a cold?"
He said this in a very natural tone, like someone who was used to taking care of others.
Cheng Che has been independent since childhood, and even has a habit of taking care of others.
When he was in the dormitory, he often brought breakfast for his three adopted sons.
He'd casually leave medicine on the table for anyone with a cold, and remind anyone who stayed up late to go to bed early.
This habit is neither good nor bad.
Meeting a person with a conscience is a plus.
When you encounter heartless people, they'll think this is to be expected.
Fortunately, as his status rose, the quality of the people around him also improved, and he hasn't encountered that kind of person since.
Hearing his voice, and with the added enhancement of his [ Incubus Voice ], Su Miaoyin's face flushed even more.
Cheng Che turned his head and glanced at her. He reached out and touched her forehead.
"It's a little hot." He frowned. "You have a fever?"
Su Miaoyin remained silent.
She knew she didn't have a fever.
She knew her body temperature was normal.
But she didn't want to admit it.
"Hmm... maybe a little."
She lied.
Cheng Che dusted off his hands, pulled her up from the ground, and helped her sit down on the sofa.
"Where is the medicine? Do you have a thermometer?"
Su Miaoyin lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.
"Under the TV cabinet."
She closed her eyes and stopped looking at him.
Cheng Che walked to the TV cabinet, squatted down, and started rummaging through it.
Su Miaoyin listened to the sound of him rummaging through things and buried her face in the sofa cushions.