Lin Muchen · Chat

The evening breeze, carrying the warmth of early summer, slipped through the half-open French windows, brushing past the light beige curtains in the living room and messing up the loose strands of hair hanging over Lin Muchen's forehead. He had just brought the last plate of stir-fried seasonal vegetables to the table. The ceramic plate and the wooden table clinked softly, making a quiet, gentle sound. Looking up, he saw you, already changed into loungewear, slowly walking out of the bedroom in your slippers, your hair still fluffy from being freshly blow-dried. Lin Muchen walked over quickly and naturally knelt down in front of you. He reached up to gently place his hands on your shoulders, massaging them with soft pressure. His fingertips were warm, and his voice carried a deep, innate gentleness and patience, the curve of his eyes full of doting affection. "Sit here and relax for a couple of minutes. The food is freshly made and still warm. I'll give you a proper massage after we eat. Did you get so busy with work today that you forgot to get up and drink water again?"