Lap Pillow

Because he wanted to hurry home and submit his manuscript, Jiang Yu walked quickly toward his house, perhaps partly because Kato Kyoko’s teasing gaze had made his scalp tingle.

When he arrived home, Jiang Yu habitually called out, “I’m back,” but received no reply as he had expected.

He changed his shoes and walked into the living room. There he saw Umeko Doma still lying down, though she had moved from the sofa to the floor. The ice pack was tossed aside.

Beside Umeko were a half-finished bottle of cola, an empty bag of chips, and a pudding cup.

The reason he hadn’t received a reply was now clear.

Umeko remained completely absorbed in the screen before her, enjoying the latest April anime, even as Jiang Yu entered the living room.

Jiang Yu’s eyelid twitched slightly. He walked over, crouched beside her, and patted Umeko’s back. “It’s so late—aren’t you going to take a bath?”

“Ugh… Let me finish this episode first, then I’ll go,” Umeko replied, a bit impatient at being interrupted in her own world.

Then she let out a surprised “Whoa!” and turned to Jiang Yu, complaining, “Brother, you should at least announce when you’re back…”

Jiang Yu’s expression became helpless. He pursed his lips and said, “I did call out ‘I’m back!’ right at the door, you know?”

“Hmm… Is that so? Then it’s my fault—sorry, Brother.” Umeko’s pout faded, and she spoke with some embarrassment.

Jiang Yu touched the bridge of his nose, inwardly marveling at how quickly his sister admitted her mistakes. He gave a wry smile and said, “So hurry up and take your bath, okay? Before you sleep, I still need to apply some herbal balm for you…”

Honestly, Umeko, do you think that as long as you admit your mistakes, I’ll never punish you?

Wearing a look of reluctance, Umeko switched off the TV, went to her room to fetch her change of clothes, and entered the bathroom to bathe.

Taking advantage of the waiting time, Jiang Yu returned to his own room, took out his computer, and opened the final two chapters of “Spring Story” he’d written the previous day. He skimmed through for typos and grammatical errors.

He had already done rough checks for typos after finishing each previous chapter, so the remaining workload wasn’t much.

Though such a rough review wouldn’t meet the standard for direct publication, it was sufficient for submission.

After all, if a book could be published, the author would have an editor assigned to them, whose responsibilities include proofreading for errors in the manuscript.

To be honest, it’s because so many people think this way that editors often suffer bitterly while reviewing manuscripts.

You know too much…

Of course, the main role of an editor is as a channel of communication, acting as a messenger between publishing house and author, providing market research so that writers immersed in their work can understand trends and create pieces that suit current tastes.

As a result, many authors have excellent relationships with their editors—some even identify more with their editor than their publisher.

If another publishing house lured their editor away, the author would often follow them.

Squinting tiredly, Jiang Yu scanned the last two chapters, correcting a few awkward passages and obvious typos from fast typing, then let out a long breath.

He rubbed his sore arms and fingers, unable to suppress a big yawn.

Finally, one task was completed. Now he wouldn’t be so busy…

Jiang Yu leaned back comfortably in his chair, mind empty. His limbs dangled naturally, following gravity, his gaze wandering aimlessly until it settled on the incandescent lamp overhead.

Hmm… It felt just like entering a sage mode.

Not long after, Umeko emerged from the bathroom wearing her favorite hamster cloak. Lately, this seemed to be her beloved outfit—she wore the same style every day at home, switching only the cloaks.

Nearly asleep, Jiang Yu struggled to stand, shook his head, and forced himself to wake up a bit more.

He walked straight to the sofa, sat down, and gestured for Umeko to join him.

Once Umeko settled on the sofa, Jiang Yu hesitated, then indicated for her to rest her head on his lap.

Umeko was surprised, looking at her brother’s serious face, seeking confirmation if she really had to do this.

After receiving assurance, a faint blush swept across Umeko’s cheeks. She took a deep breath and lay down.

She silently reminded herself that this was nothing—they’d done more intimate things before, such as… sleeping together in each other’s arms?

Though that was only before elementary school…

Come to think of it, since the first year of junior high, she’d hardly seen her brother. Even on rare visits to Uncle Jiang’s house, she hadn’t met him.

Back then, during holidays at home, Jiang Yu rarely left his room—let alone the house—spending all his time watching anime and playing games inside.

Curiously, even with all that gaming, Jiang Yu’s grades never suffered much. He managed to get into the prestigious private Fengzhi Academy on merit.

Deviation value is a calculation unique to the island nation, reflecting a student’s intelligence and academic ability—ranking each among all test-takers.

There, deviation value is seen as an accurate measure of educational achievement and has become the standard for evaluating learning potential.

The scale is usually set with 50 as the average, 75 as the highest, and 25 as the lowest. Scores above 50 are considered good, while those above 60 can generally choose to attend better universities.

Jiang Yu’s deviation value always hovered above 65, nearly reaching 70—this despite not dedicating much effort to study, spending most of his time watching anime and gaming.

Thinking about it, his predecessor truly was a top student, even a genius. In his previous life in China, someone like him would have been mercilessly pummeled by his classmates~

Meanwhile, Jiang Yu felt a subtle emotion as he watched Umeko lying down.

He hadn’t expected that, never having enjoyed a lap pillow himself, his first time would be given away so quickly.

Jiang Yu wasn’t sure whether to feel honored or simply amused. He sighed deeply.

Shaking off these thoughts, Jiang Yu gently adjusted Umeko’s head, lifting her flaxen hair as it cascaded like a waterfall. The scent of shampoo wafted into his nose, and his fingers felt the slightly damp, silky strands.

Calming himself, Jiang Yu picked up the herbal balm from the side, poured a little, and gently applied it to the bump on Umeko’s forehead.

The cool sensation soon made Umeko narrow her eyes in comfort. The chill gradually transformed into warmth—a gentle heat radiating from her forehead, flowing through her limbs.

By the time Jiang Yu finished, Umeko’s eyes were closed, her breathing soft.

Smiling and shaking his head, Jiang Yu picked Umeko up and carried her to her bedroom, placing her on her bed.

With a quiet “Good night,” Jiang Yu turned and quietly left, closing the door to Umeko’s room behind him.