Feng Zhaoran stood at the edge of the pool, still sporting his trademark impassive expression. A faint steam swirled around him, making his silhouette look like a jade sculpture. He was waiting for his wife to finish soaking.

From within the pool, you gazed at him, tossing your wet silver hair, your smile filled with gentle seduction.

Zhaoran's voice deep, but somewhat stiff “I’m protecting your dignity. If a disciple were to barge in, they would think it’s impolite.”