The water welcomed him the moment he lowered himself in, warmth spreading over aching muscles that had known nothing but cold for as long as he could remember.
Li Yan let himself sink lower, until the water reached his shoulders, and allowed his gaze to drift down over his own body for the first time in what felt like years.
Thin, far thinner than a young man his age should have been, ribs faintly visible beneath skin, old scars tracing pale lines across his forearms and one longer mark along his side, souvenirs from years of servants who found small cruelties amusing and a family who never once intervened.
It would have been strange to look otherwise, given how little food ever reached him, how often the water brought to his room had been cold enough to sting, how the room itself had never once held proper warmth even in the depths of winter.
He scrubbed at his skin slowly, methodically, watching the last traces of dried blood and road dust lift away into the clear water.
A jar of salve sat within easy reach at the pool’s edge, left there by Dong Mei before she withdrew, and Li Yan eyed it for a long moment.
No clothes had been left alongside it. He wondered briefly whether Hu Bai had simply forgotten, or had grown distracted by whatever matters he claimed to be attending to.
It hardly mattered, in the end. He could sleep without clothes for one night and save what he already owned for tomorrow. Small inconveniences, compared to everything else the day had thrown at him.
He rose at last, ready to step free of the water, when the sound of footsteps reached him from beyond the pool’s edge.
Li Yan turned toward the sound, and his mouth fell open before he could stop it.
Hu Bai stood there, a folded set of clothes draped over one arm, wearing absolutely nothing else.
Li Yan’s gaze dropped before he could will it otherwise, trailing lower and lower still, and stopped somewhere it very much should not have.
Was this simply what growing into manhood did to a person? His member was huge. How did he even walk around with that cudgel between his legs?
"Like what you see?" Hu Bai’s voice carried easily across the water, entirely unbothered by his own nakedness. "I required a bath myself, and thought I might as well join you. I brought your clothes, and some lotion as well."
Li Yan’s face heated, though he refused to let the reaction show beyond a faint tightening at his jaw. He forced his gaze upward, fixing it firmly on Hu Bai’s face and nowhere else.
"You could have announced yourself before entering."
"Where would the fun be in that?" Hu Bai stepped down into the water without a shred of hesitation, setting the folded clothes on a dry stone ledge well clear of the pool’s edge. "Besides, we are engaged. There is little left to hide between us, at this point."
"There is a great deal left to hide." Li Yan retreated a step through the water, putting a stretch of distance between them that the pool’s size, at least, allowed for. "Beginning with whatever you believe you are entitled to simply because a contract bears my name on it."
Hu Bai only smiled at that, wading closer despite the retreat, though he stopped well before crossing whatever line remained between them, some flicker of restraint holding him back even now.
"I entitle myself to nothing you do not offer freely." He tilted his head, studying Li Yan with an expression that had, for once, shed most of its usual teasing. "I only wished to share a bath. Nothing more than that, little rabbit, unless you decide otherwise."
Li Yan said nothing to that, uncertain whether the flicker of warmth low in his chest belonged to the hot water or something considerably less comfortable to acknowledge.
He turned instead toward the ledge where the clothes and lotion sat waiting, intent on finishing quickly and putting an end to whatever this evening had turned into.
"Xiaoxiao." He kept the thought carefully silent, unwilling to let even a flicker of it show on his face. "Tell me this man is not actually as dangerous as he seems, because I begin to suspect the greater danger tonight has very little to do with swords."
A soft, distinctly amused hum answered him from somewhere at the back of his mind, offering no actual reassurance at all.
Li Yan made to step past him toward the ledge where the clothes waited, then hesitated. Some unexpected shyness rose in him, despite the plain fact that they were both men. He had no real reason for it. It settled into him anyway.
"Stay a while longer." Hu Bai’s voice had lost its usual teasing. "Do not leave yet. I will warm the water again. We could talk. Tell me about your family."
"Why would I do that?" Li Yan folded his arms. "Tell me about yours instead. You seem well-off."
Hu Bai smiled and spread both arms along the pool’s edge, settling in as if he had been waiting for the question.
"I am the third child—four brothers besides me, and seven sisters. Two brothers came before me. Our household was so large that our mother could not keep every name straight, so we were numbered by birth order instead. My real name is San. I prefer Bai."
"Twelve children." Li Yan shook his head. "And your mother never learned even one true name?"
"She had little time for that, with so many of us." Hu Bai’s tone stayed light, but something beneath it did not match. "There were nursemaids enough to raise us. Names mattered less than you might think, in a family measured by numbers instead of affection."
Li Yan said nothing at first. He recognized the shape of it, a household with too many children and too little warmth to go around, though his own family had managed the same result with far fewer.
"Twelve children," he said again, quieter. "And I would wager none of you ever went hungry, or cold, or without a proper roof."
"No." Hu Bai’s gaze sharpened slightly. "None of us wanted for that. Though I suspect, from your face just now, the same was not true for you."
Li Yan’s jaw tightened. He had not meant to let that show.
"We were talking about your family." He kept his voice even. "Not mine."
Hu Bai studied him, clearly aware it was a deflection, but let it go.
"As you like." He murmured something too low to catch, and the water warmed slightly around them. "There. That should do."