"Is this the gift you got for us?"
Bernice held up a lacy, purple vest—semi-transparent and trimmed with frills—her tone light with curiosity. Jiang Hai looked at what she was holding and couldn't help but fall silent.
"Uh… yeah, I bought it for you," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "There was a lingerie exhibition while I was out, so I picked up a few things… Thought you might like them."
He didn't dare meet her eyes. Honestly, he was starting to regret the whole idea. Originally, he just wanted the girls to have something cute and comfortable to wear at home—maybe over pajamas—but now that he was seeing the items up close, they looked more... well, suggestive than he had expected.
"They're pretty," Darlene said, examining one of the pieces and playfully squeezing her ample chest, "but we're not really into underwear. It gets in the way of… development. It's winter, we don't go out much, and it's just more comfortable without it at home."
She shot Jiang Hai a cheeky look. He sighed, already feeling defeated.
"Then… you could wear them when you go out," he suggested weakly.
"I actually really like this one," Azarina chimed in, picking a set she liked. Without hesitation, she pulled off Jiang Hai's oversized T-shirt—right in front of him.
Instantly, two soft mounds entered Jiang Hai's line of sight, capped with rosy tips. And since Azarina wasn't in the habit of wearing bottoms either, everything was... visible.
Sure, he'd seen it all before—but never quite like this. Maybe once, maybe twice, but never so bold.
"Wow, Lina, you've definitely grown," Darlene exclaimed with admiration. Jiang Hai nearly choked. Darlene and Marianne walked over without hesitation and reached out, cupping Azarina's chest with blatant curiosity.
"Okay, enough messing around," Azarina rolled her eyes and slapped their hands away. "I'm going to try this on properly."
She turned and grabbed the outfit, slipping it on right there in the living room.
Jiang Hai, flustered, muttered, "If you're going to change, maybe do it in your room?"
Bernice and Xiaoya's faces were flushed, but their eyes didn't move from Azarina. They had never worn anything like this before, so their curiosity was stronger than their embarrassment.
No one listened to Jiang Hai.
Azarina slipped into a black lingerie set. The top was nearly see-through and offered a slight push-up effect, squeezing her curves upward. The sheer material hinted at everything beneath, teasing more than it covered.
Jiang Hai stared in disbelief. Whoever designed this had no intention of being subtle.
As for the bottom piece… well, Jiang Hai hadn't paid close attention when buying. He had asked the store clerk to pick based on rough size estimates—Darlene and Marianne were probably Bs, Bernice too, Xiaoya was an A+ at best due to past health issues, and Azarina had somehow grown into a D.
That last bit still baffled him. When she first arrived, she was a B, and now…
He had no idea what the clerk had packed, but Azarina's bottom wasn't so much covered as framed. She wore a high-waisted corset-like piece, with garter clips and thigh-high stockings—no real panties. Nothing was hidden. And then she casually sat on the couch and crossed her legs.
"Oh? This bottom piece is pretty convenient," she remarked casually.
Jiang Hai couldn't take it anymore. He backed out of the room in defeat, practically crawling up the stairs to his bedroom. He needed to cool down—urgently.
The great lingerie plan was an utter failure. Still, the girls kept the outfits. They didn't wear them at home, but figured they'd try them outside sometime.
By the next morning, they were back to their usual way of dressing—or not dressing. Jiang Hai wanted to set boundaries, but his authority only went so far in that house.
After two back-to-back trips to New York, Jiang Hai found himself with nothing pressing to do. Mid-November had brought the full onset of winter. Though there hadn't been heavy snow yet, the air was dry and cold.
The girls had mostly stopped going out. Only Jiang Hai still took morning walks to check on the cowshed, dock, and stables before returning to the second-floor balcony to scroll through his phone, read novels, watch TV, or play games.
Afra and the other winery staff were also idle now. The vineyard had entered its dormant period, with just Gerard and O'Connor doing routine checks to keep out rodents.
The rest of the women spent their time at Jiang Hai's house, lounging and trying on new outfits.
Those who'd already crossed a certain line with Jiang Hai were the most uninhibited. Afra sometimes walked around topless, and Jiang Hai could only sigh. Bernice always seemed to be nearby, watching closely, as if guarding him from further "incidents."
He wasn't sure why she did it, but with her hovering and his own thin-skinned nature, nothing else happened.
And so the days dragged on, a mix of pleasure and frustration, until December arrived.
Time slipped by quickly, as it does when life stays the same. But with December came the Arctic winds.
The skies, once clear in November, grew perpetually gray.
Winthrop, situated on the bay, didn't just get cold—it got windy. Summer brought rain, and winter brought snow—and a lot of it. Though the forest around Jiang Hai's manor provided some shelter, it couldn't stop everything.
Watching the snow swirl down while the wind howled outside, Jiang Hai was reminded of an old song: "The winter wind carries snowflakes, blowing tears from my eyes…"
Sure, he was living abroad—but he didn't feel like a wanderer. Not exactly.
The storm lasted for two days and one night. By the time it passed, Jiang Hai had work to do—namely, shoveling snow.
Snow removal was always a headache. The manor was massive. While the dock was fine—sea water doesn't freeze, thanks to the constant movement of the tides—other parts of the estate were a different story.
The cowshed and stables had to be cleared, especially the rooftops. Too much snow and they could collapse.
All the roads in the manor had to be shoveled too. Fortunately, the snow could be pushed onto the fields. Snowmelt contains nutrients that would fertilize the land in spring.
It was like northeastern China—the soil there is fertile partly because it rests under snow for half the year.
The morning after the storm, Jiang Hai bundled up and stepped outside. It was his first time out in three days, and he shivered immediately.
He tugged on his gloves and spotted Edward Anderson and Robbins Garcia already hard at work.
The cowshed still needed daily care, so while cowboys Robbins and Harriman Fells were on duty, most of the manpower came from the dockworkers. Jiang Hai's bodyguard, Connorson Peters, was also helping out.
Seeing Jiang Hai, the men straightened up and gave him a friendly nod.
"Damn, it's freezing!" Jiang Hai exclaimed, grabbing a shovel.
The forecast said the high would be minus twelve degrees Celsius—brutal.
"Haha, boss, guess you haven't been out much lately!" Robbins laughed. "We're kinda used to it by now."
Fair enough. These guys worked rain or shine. Cows didn't care about the weather.
"Well then, let's get to it!" Jiang Hai grinned and plunged his shovel into the snow.
It was thick—even thicker than what he'd seen back home in Harbin. Still, it was clean and packed tight. One scoop lifted a whole chunk, though even that didn't matter much—the snow reached above his knees.
As soon as the door opened, Xiao Huang and Xiao Bai shot out into the snow—but Jiang Hai quickly lost sight of them in the white mess.
Today would be a tough battle. But at least he only had to worry about his own land. Compared to what the townspeople and Mayor Wallis were dealing with, Jiang Hai had it easy.
This snowstorm qualified as a blizzard—but in Boston, people were used to it. They had the tools, the crews, the traditions.
Still, it was no joke.
Last year's snowfall had been similar, but Jiang Hai only had to clear three routes: the driveway, the path to the dock, and the one to the cowshed.
This year, there was one more—the river road.
While the river near the sea hadn't frozen solid, a thin layer of ice had formed. Jiang Hai didn't need to clear the river itself—just the road alongside it, which wrapped around half the manor.
Then there was the road to the private airstrip…
The workload was massive.
It took him an hour to clear the parking lot, then two more for the main driveway. Technically, he could've rested at that point and tackled the rest in the afternoon—but looking out at the endless white landscape, Jiang Hai felt a sudden impatience.
(To be continued.)