Group chat - The life I want! (13) (Reposting a classic article of this kind)

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This man was BJ Happy, my close friend and confidant whom I had known for a long time, though we had never met in person. I still couldn't understand how BJ Happy recognized me from among the hundreds of departing passengers at the airport that day. We had never exchanged photos before, and our conversations had never even touched on each other's appearances. BJ Happy explained that he had never seen what I looked like. But sometimes he would imagine what I looked like, and I was exactly as he imagined, without a doubt. So how did BJ Happy imagine what I looked like? His explanation was even stranger: I should be very similar to him, not in terms of qualities or personality, but also in appearance. He said seeing me was like looking in a mirror. Why do people look in mirrors? Because only with the help of a mirror can people see themselves clearly. Seeing clearly, seeing the world, is not difficult; the hardest thing for people is to see themselves clearly. I am BJ Happy's mirror, and he is also my mirror. When we try to understand each other, we actually understand more about our own hearts. Many people have said that BJ and I look very alike, even his sister said so when we visited him together. But I've always felt that we don't resemble each other. We're about the same height, I'm 179cm, and he's probably between 180 and 181cm. We're both on the thin side, appearing tall and slender. His skin is very fair, fairer than many women's. His eyes and brows are beautiful; he's a very handsome man. My skin, on the other hand, is typical of men from Guangdong—not too fair, not too dark. My nose is a bit high, and my lips are quite thick. My appearance is only average. What truly makes us look alike is the aura between our brows. Honestly, it's hard to describe this aura; it's a melancholic, or perhaps helpless, repressed, and rational aura. This aura isn't something that can be faked or learned; it's innate, an outward manifestation of the deepest emotions within. Our auras are similar, but not identical. I always lack one thing: our eyes. BJ's happy eyes always possess an elusive, romantic quality, like that of a scholar, artist, or even a poet—or perhaps a sincere and genuine beauty, a unique charm that is both unrestrained and loyal. This romance, this unique charm, is the most lethal weapon for many women. When I got in the car, I called Da Bangchui. He was very surprised and excited by my sudden visit, and he invited us to have dinner together that afternoon. BJ didn't take me to the hotel; instead, he took me directly to his house to drop off my luggage. This completely violated our group's confidentiality policy. Normally, we group members don't meet at our own homes, but rather at hotels or teahouses. BJ didn't treat me as just another group member who shared a hobby; he treated me as a friend, a rare find in his life. Only two group members, including myself, had ever been to his house. BJ's house is near Zizhuyuan; it's not large, about 100 square meters. His house was spotless and very tidy. His living room wasn't filled with antiques, porcelain, or paintings by famous artists, unlike most Beijing homes that like to show off. Apart from a recently hand-painted portrait of a beauty hanging on the right-hand screen wall, the rest of his walls were spotless. I don't know much about traditional Chinese painting, but I felt that BJ Happy's portrait of the beauty had a special, hazy beauty. The brushstrokes were very meticulous, creating a hazy effect; the viewer could never clearly see the girl's face, like seeing a beauty through a drizzle, or brushing past a beautiful woman through a fog. The haziness itself was a kind of beauty. His choice of colors was also very skillful. The girl wore a pink dress; this pink was bright yet understated, not overly flashy, but rather elegant and even warm. BJ Happy's living room was relatively spacious. There was no television, only a Sony sound system. As an audiophile myself, I knew without even looking that this sound system was definitely expensive. Next to the stereo was a record shelf with a huge stack of records. Upon closer inspection, they were all piano pieces, whereas I mostly listen to heavy metal at home. This difference in musical taste is a complete reversal of our personalities. BJ's house was filled with countless orchids of all kinds. I could name some Phalaenopsis, Clivia, and even some varieties I couldn't identify. Sitting in his living room felt like taking a nap in an orchid garden—comfortable, relaxing, like being in nature. There was also a piano in BJ's living room. My wife had studied piano for a while, so I wasn't unfamiliar with it; it was a Mendelssohn, a famous German brand, with excellent sound quality. Later, I learned that BJ was an incredibly talented person—he could paint traditional Chinese paintings, play the piano, and had beautiful handwriting. BJ also had a slight obsession with cleanliness; the entire house was spotless. Not only the furniture and appliances, but even the floors were repeatedly wiped until they could be used as mirrors. Like me, when I'm at home and have nothing to do, I like to clean, wiping the furniture and floors over and over again. BJ Happy said that few men would understand this almost demanding cleaning work; only he and I understand. We're not just cleaning our home, but also our hearts. He's right. Every time I clean, my mood becomes very calm and peaceful. "Ah Xi, I'm happy you're coming to Beijing, but my heart is also a little sore." Of course, I know what's making Big Bang Chui so sad; my heart is also filled with a bittersweet feeling. The three of us ate Hubei cuisine. Big Bang Chui only ordered the hearty dishes, and a whole table of food was served. In the end, we couldn't eat much, but we drank quite a lot of alcohol. Strangely enough, all three of us had our own worries, but we didn't say anything at the table. Big Bang Chui, on the other hand, started drinking in silence. That night, Big Bang Chui was so drunk that he passed out, repeatedly saying the same thing to me. "Ah happy, you're here. I should be happy, but my heart... why does it hurt so much?" I knew he wasn't hurting me. BJ Happy found a hotel nearby and booked a room for Big Stick. Then, the two of us finally managed to carry the big guy, who was completely drunk, upstairs to sleep before leaving. That night, BJ Happy and I slept side by side. To be honest, although my sexual preference is group sex, one woman with multiple men, I've never tried sleeping with only one man. But sleeping with BJ Happy didn't feel strange at all. He was like my own brother. Homosexuality and pornography were completely irrelevant to us. BJ Happy and I talked about many, many things until dawn before finally falling asleep. I talked about my childhood in the countryside, my first love, my first time having sex, my first time meeting my current wife, my children, and even my married life. Of course, I didn't hold back at all when telling him about my trip to Chengdu with Da Bangchui, my current family situation, my worries and troubles… I had nothing to hide, and I didn't need to hold anything back. BJ Kuaile was the same. He told me about his family's life in a courtyard house when he was a child, about how he would lull his younger sister to sleep on summer nights by teaching her to count stars, about how his sister would wipe his sweat while he played soccer in elementary school, about how his father beat him for writing love letters to girls in middle school and how his sister pleaded for him, about the hard times he and his sister endured after their parents passed away one after another, about his feelings when his sister got married, about the nervousness, excitement, and a little guilt he felt when he first participated in group sex, about PK spicy hot pot, about CQ pickled fish…We treated each other as if we were ourselves, confiding in each other as if we were having a conversation with our own hearts. One can hide things from anyone else, but not from one's own heart. The next day, when I woke up, BJ Happy had already left; he had gone to work. As I went out into the lobby, I saw a woman with her back to me, carefully watering pots of orchids. I assumed she was a cleaning lady and didn't pay much attention at first, going to the washroom to wash up. After I finished washing up, I saw the woman kneeling on the floor, diligently wiping it. Her buttocks were raised high, round and pert, looking particularly alluring. I couldn't see the cleaning lady's face, but I was certain her figure was incredibly seductive. "Ah Xi, you came yesterday, right?" The cleaning lady I thought was her turned around. She was a woman with black-rimmed glasses, appearing mature and elegant, like a rare orchid in a secluded valley. I had seen her picture before; honestly, she was even more beautiful in person than in the photos. Her skin was very fair and delicate, she looked to be in her early thirties, serene and elegant, with a scholarly air—a typical beautiful middle-aged woman from the North. Later I learned that there were so many people in the group, and that I was the only one who knew where BJ Happy lived. Only Konggu Youlan had a key to his house and could come and go as she pleased. Aside from mentioning Konggu Youlan to me at the beginning, BJ Happy rarely talked about her afterward. I didn't even know what their relationship was—lovers? Or just friends with benefits? At least she was so focused while cleaning, like the lady of the house. I couldn't let her do all the work alone, so I grabbed a rag and helped. "Sister Lan, I just arrived yesterday," we chatted casually as we cleaned. After finishing, we washed our hands and rested on the sofa in the living room for a while. A clivia plant had already bloomed, six tender yellow flowers in full bloom, their fragrance filling the air of the living room, making it particularly pleasant. "Ah happy, do you like orchids?" "Yes." "I like them too, that's why my online name is 'Orchid in a Secluded Valley.' All the orchids here are ones I planted. Some I just bought, some I've had at home for years before moving here. I come over to take care of them every two or three days." "BJ, does he like orchids?" "He doesn't like flowers and plants, he thinks they attract bugs." "Then why do you plant so many orchids here for him?" "Because I want to bring a touch of orchid fragrance into his life." "Orchids grow in secluded valleys, their fragrance undiminished by solitude; a virtuous person cultivates morality, their integrity unchanged by poverty." I always felt that "Orchid in a Secluded Valley" didn't just want to plant orchids in the living room, but rather to plant them directly in a man's heart. "Ah Xi, are you still tired?" "No, let's make love." For some reason, our position that day was particularly strange. I placed "Orchid in a Secluded Valley" on the floor, had her lie face down, and lifted her buttocks high, like she was wiping the floor. I pulled down her pants from behind, and I lay on my stomach, licking her vulva from behind. I forcefully parted her labia majora; her vulva was very clean, without any leukorrhea or other vaginal discharge. It was warm and moist. I gently played with her clitoris. I smelled the scent of her genitals. The scent of her genitals was completely different from my wife's and Lan Qi'er's. It didn't have that particularly strong fishy or pungent smell unique to women. This erotic scent was subtle, mixed with a stronger, sweet floral fragrance, like the scent of orchids. It smelled very pleasant, and the aphrodisiac scent was very strong. In the hall filled with the fragrance of orchids, I played with her vulva for a long time before I brought her to her first orgasm. Rather than saying that the fluid flowing from her vulva during our orgasm was an uncontrollable flood, it was more like a gentle stream, gushing out little by little, like a sullen vulva slowly releasing its suppressed lust. I swallowed every drop of semen flowing from Kong Gu You Lan's vagina. This oral sex experience with Kong Gu You Lan is always a blur for me; I can't even remember if we did it like cleaning or like cleaning. We made love on the chair next to the piano. I'd never done it like this before. I sat on the chair next to the piano, while Kong Gu You Lan half-squatted on it, her vaginal opening aligned with my penis, and then she guided it into her vagina slowly. Our position was somewhat similar to Guanyin sitting on a lotus. The biggest characteristic of this position is that the woman controls the entire process; the force, rhythm, and depth are all controlled by the frequency and strength of her vaginal thrusts. From oral sex to penetration, I didn't unbutton Kong Gu You Lan's top. Kong Gu You Lan opened the piano case, and as she played the first note, my thrusting began. The first piece Kong Gu You Lan played was "Ballade pour Adeline," a piece I knew very well, but the feeling of thrusting while listening was completely different. The rhythm of this piece is very soothing, leaving a vast space for imagination. I simply closed my eyes, letting the music drift through my mind. This imaginary pleasure, combined with the real, sensual stimulation of the thrusting in my lower body, created a wonderful sensation. I felt like a small boat adrift on a river, floating gently with the flowing water. The night was dim, and I vaguely saw my beloved sitting by the riverbank, indistinctly, like Lan Qi'er. One piece after another, "Orchid in the Valley," constantly shifted between different styles. One moment I felt like I was sitting with Lan Qi'er in a late autumn wheat field, playing a volleyball, facing the golden waves of wheat; the next I was sitting by the azure sea, facing the raging waves; and then I was sitting on a summer night's grass, gazing at the boundless starry sky…Our thrusting was perfectly synchronized with the rhythm of the music, sometimes wild, sometimes gentle, sometimes calm. I simultaneously stimulated her clitoris with my fingers; her expression was one of pure ecstasy, the music and the stimulation from within her vagina sending her into multiple orgasms. I had never experienced such unbridled pleasure, such whimsical fantasies, such elegant yet undeniably erotic lovemaking. If someone were to enter BJ's living room at that moment, they wouldn't find it strange, because all they could hear was the piano music, and see were the two of them playing and listening to the piano. The waves of carnal pleasure, like raging ocean waves, from the intense friction of the sex toys beneath the piano table could only be experienced by the two of us. The last piece, Für Elise, faded into the background, and we both reached the pinnacle of pleasure. Afterwards, I lifted Kong Gu You Lan onto the piano table. I spread her legs, parted her labia majora, and used four fingers to shape her vaginal opening into a large, lewd "O." I saw my semen slowly flowing out of her vagina, dripping from the junction of her anus and vagina onto the piano, slowly seeping into the gaps between the keys. I had never experienced such elegant and artistic sex. Pleasure, an indescribable feeling of pleasure, surged into my heart. Counting the time, I realized I had been thrusting for almost an hour before ejaculating, while Kong Gu You Lan had already played over a dozen pieces. The state I could never find at home had miraculously revived with Kong Gu You Lan. Kong Gu You Lan and I kept making love, even when BJ returned from his happy time, we were still in the kitchen, making love while cooking soup. I don't know why, but that day I never took off Kong Gu You Lan's top. I really liked how she looked in her black-rimmed glasses and formal attire, which aroused my desire even more. Gu Long once said that men are the most contradictory creatures; they always want virtuous women to act like harlots, while simultaneously wanting harlots to act like virtuous women. In my eyes, there's no distinction between virtuous and harlot women, only between women with strong and weak libidos. A woman like Kong Gu You Lan, who appears elegant and refined yet consistently has a high sex drive, particularly satisfies me. I even wish my wife could play the piano well, so we could reach climax together with piano accompaniment. When I'm home, Kong Gu You Lan comes to BJ's house every day. When BJ isn't home, she helps me with cleaning, making love, and cooking. When BJ is home, we eat together and play sandwiches. Sometimes the three of us lie in BJ's large bathtub for a hot bath. Kong Gu You Lan leans between us, and we each play with one of her breasts, spreading her legs wide, each of us parting her labia and inserting our fingers into her vagina. I admit I really love her fragrant, orchid-like scent. I've always struggled to understand the relationship between Kong Gu You Lan and BJ Kuaile. Their relationship always seemed somewhere between friends with benefits and lovers. I don't know when BJ Kuaile developed this inexplicable connection with her, nor do I understand what he liked about her. What I don't understand most is why she always leaves in the evenings. Later I learned that Kong Gu You Lan had an eight-year-old daughter, and at that time she was going through a divorce. In the evenings, she would rush to pick her daughter up from school. She spent her evenings with her daughter because the divorce proceedings seemed inevitable; custody of their daughter was highly likely to be awarded to her husband. Kong Gu You Lan could only try to delay the proceedings and spend as much time with her daughter as possible before her husband took her away. Kong Gu You Lan and her husband met in Canada. She was a piano performance major, and her husband was a high-energy physics major. They were both international students in Canada at the time and eventually obtained permanent residency. They started participating in group sex activities while in Canada. Initially, as a new mother, she was unwilling to participate, finding it dirty. Later, she gave in to her husband's persistent pleas and participated once. That one time, she experienced a sexual pleasure she had never felt before, and group sex became her lifelong sexual passion, something she never tired of. Later, both she and her husband returned to China after completing their studies. Her husband quickly rose to become a professor and head of the physics department at a university, while she remained unemployed, occasionally teaching piano to children at home. She gradually became aware of her husband's changes. When they first returned, they would still participate in some secret, private group sex activities, but her husband went less and less often, and his attitude towards his wife's interests grew increasingly contemptuous. Until one day, after their daughter went to school, she caught her husband and a female university student in bed together. Only then did she realize that her husband wasn't a fan of group sex or multiple partners; he just wanted to seek thrills, and now, what thrilled him even more was taking advantage of seventeen or eighteen-year-old female university students. Divorce was inevitable, but the custody of their daughter became the biggest problem. Legally, daughters usually go to the mother. However, the despicable man presented a video he had secretly filmed of Kong Gu Youlan engaging in group sex in court, completely siding with the husband. Kong Gu Youlan, losing both her marriage and her daughter, was on the verge of collapse. She began frantically seeking sex and engaging in group sex until she met BJ Kuai Le. Kong Gu Youlan gradually fell for this man, a few years younger than her. She didn't want anything from his family; she only wanted the orchids she had cultivated for years. She moved all the orchids to BJ Kuai Le's house. She enjoyed cooking for him, cleaning his house, having sex with him, and participating in group sex with him. Kong Gu Youlan understood that with this man, she could find warmth and a sense of home. But BJ Kuai Le never had a place for her in his heart. She could plant orchids in BJ Kuai Le's house, but she could never plant herself in his heart. At that time, Kong Gu Youlan had already decided to leave China, to leave this place of heartbreak. I can understand BJ Kuaile's feelings for Kong Gu Youlan. It's not love, but BJ Kuaile gradually got used to having a woman cook for him, clean his house, and have one-on-one sex. Of course, they shared the same interests and could engage in group sex and multi-person sex games. Isn't this the ideal life—a socially acceptable, couple-style marriage that also satisfies our desire for group sex and multi-person sex? I finally understood the biggest difference between BJ Kuaile and me. The pressure of marriage on me was increasing daily, and the guilt of emotional and physical infidelity was constantly weighing on my heart. At this time, BJ Kuaile had begun to yearn for married life, but he was completely unsure whether he needed an ordinary, mundane marriage like Kong Gu Youlan's that satisfied his desires, or a three-person marriage like PK Malatang's, living a life that society wouldn't tolerate. BJ Kuaile couldn't figure out who he truly loved—Kong Gu Youlan or PK Malatang. Perhaps it wasn't the ethereal beauty, but rather the feeling of a normal married life he shared with her. Or perhaps it wasn't PK Malatang, not out of fear of hurting CQ Sauerkraut Fish, but rather that his ambiguous feelings for her—a feeling that was both romantic and sibling-like—were simply an illusion, a delusion. When I met BJ Happy Sister in person, I realized that neither the ethereal beauty nor PK Malatang was the person BJ Happy loved. He only loved one person in the world: his own sister. I often think of the painting of a beautiful woman hanging on his wall. The woman resembles both the ethereal beauty and PK Malatang, but neither is truly the other. The most striking, prominent, and unambiguous element in the painting is the color of her clothing—pink. BJ Happy Sister has always favored pink, wearing only pink from childhood to adulthood. Unfortunately, the painter, BJ Happy, only saw the beauty, not the color. During that time, BJ Happy was particularly interested in my family, even showing special concern for my daughter, Mao Mao, claiming he wanted to be her godfather. My arrival did indeed improve BJ's mood considerably. When I left, he seemed to have already made some decisions. After a few days of staying in Beijing, I was about to say goodbye and return to Guangzhou when I received a private message on my QQ from Duoduolong, who had been silent for a long time. It was just one sentence: "Brother, please, Lan Qi'er is sick, really sick. Please, come see her." This message was also sent to Dabangchui's number. When we were discussing whether to go to Chengdu in the teahouse, Dabangchui and I had a huge disagreement, and we almost had a fight. "Axi, I only just realized this now! You bastard, you're not even a man, you know? Don't think that just because you're a bit tall you're a man. Let me tell you, you're really not a man. Girl, she's so sick, and you don't even go see her. Do you even have any humanity left?" Dabangchui got angry at me, his thick Beijing accent and profanities hurling insults at me, but I didn't say a word back. He wouldn't understand what I was thinking."Big Stick, don't go too far! You're really pushing your luck! This isn't a discussion, is it? Who are you spitting that filth on? Can't you shut up?" Strangely enough, BJ Happy is a few years younger than Big Stick, and Big Stick usually listens to him, but this time it didn't work either. The three of us parted on bad terms. "Ah Xi, if you're not going, I have to go. I'm going to see my sister by myself. From now on, when I go to Chengdu, I'll tell my sister we'll go our separate ways, and we won't know Ah Xi anymore." Big Stick stormed off, slamming his cup down. Since I originally planned to return to Guangzhou the next day, Kong Gu You Lan simply stayed overnight at BJ Happy's house and cooked me a nice meal. In her words, BJ Happy can play the piano, paint Chinese paintings, grow orchids… he seems to know everything, except cooking. That's true. I've witnessed it firsthand. On my second day there, he bought me a fish and excitedly made me a braised fish dish. It looked presentable, but when I ate it, I realized he was an amateur; he hadn't even scaled it, making me feel nauseous. Apparently, BJ Kuaile usually stays home alone and doesn't cook, just eating takeout. At his house, Kong Gu Youlan cooks everything. There's a soup every day, called pepper and pork tripe soup, which she makes especially for him. He's developed a stomach problem from always making do with what he has. Kong Gu Youlan makes this soup to warm his stomach, and it takes her at least three hours to make it every day, not including the time spent buying ingredients at the market. I still think that BJ Kuaile's final choice of Kong Gu Youlan as his partner was the wisest one. Later, I also met PK Malatang. She's younger, prettier, more energetic, and has more sexual appeal, making her more attractive to men. However, there was one thing she never quite matched compared to Kong Gu You Lan: she didn't know how to cherish, care for, or love a man. Actually, it wasn't her fault; she was someone who couldn't even take care of herself. Kong Gu You Lan had experienced a deeply painful failed marriage. When she fell in love with a man again, she would cherish him unconditionally, caring for him in every little detail, always unconditionally obeying him. After a few days, the three of us became familiar with each other. This familiarity was both spiritual and physical. I was as open and honest with Kong Gu You Lan as I was with BJ Kuaile, completely unreserved. I already considered her BJ Kuaile's woman, and of course, Kong Gu You Lan's body was also given to me without reservation. Honestly, I was utterly captivated by BJ Kuaile's living room. It was like a small garden, filled with the faint scent of grass and flowers. We often had a standing sandwich there. Rather than calling it a standing sandwich-style sex, it's more accurate to describe it as a walking or flower-viewing style of sex, because we would slowly move among the orchids, thrusting our penises into the vagina and anus of the orchid. Sometimes, the three of us would suddenly stop, all three of us leaning over to smell a pot of Cymbidium orchids in bloom, while my penis remained inside the orchid's vagina, and of course, BJ's penis remained inside her anus. This way of appreciating orchids, where the vagina and anus were filled with the fullness of a huge penis, was more novel, unique, and more erotic and beautiful. This slow-paced, flower-viewing style of 3P was more likely to stimulate a man's libido and prolong his ejaculation time. The pleasure experienced was not only carnal but also included unparalleled spiritual joy. These romantic 3P experiences were unprecedented and unparalleled for me, because in the years that followed, I could never find a male playmate with BJ's poetic temperament, nor a woman with the artistic temperament of the orchid. Konggu Youlan doesn't like one-on-one group sex; when all three of us are present, we always have a threesome. Of the three of us, Konggu Youlan has the most experience in group sex; she was already playing one-woman-to-many-men sex games back in Canada. She has a particularly deep understanding of this style. She once said that group sex is like what? Like her lifelong hobby and work—playing the piano. On the piano keyboard, you play one note, which represents one person; you play another note, which represents yet another. One man having sex with one woman is like playing two notes; even if you do it a thousand or ten thousand times, it's just simple repetition, just noise, not rhythm, not melody, and certainly not a complete piece. Group sex, on the other hand, is like all the notes participating together. Different techniques are different rhythms, various variations are the melody, and a perfect sexual experience is a perfect movement in life's music. Perhaps some might ask why we so prefer one woman with multiple men, rather than multiple women with multiple men, or multiple women with one man. Actually, every type of sexual activity has its scientific basis. Women's bodies are different from men's; they are more difficult to satisfy sexually, especially women over their thirties. There's a saying: "Thirty like a wolf, forty like a tiger, fifty like a sitting duck sucking up the earth." For men, after thirty, sexual ability declines linearly, and many men even become impotent by forty, leading to a "not being satisfied" issue for their wives. This necessitates a type of sex involving multiple men with one woman to address both male sexual stimulation and the woman's perceived "not being satisfied." Other group sex methods, such as one man with seven women, are less reliable. How many men can ejaculate seven times in a row? For many women, however, having sex seven times in one night isn't a big deal. We made love all night with three people, continuously ejaculating into each other's vaginas. As dawn approached, we finally satisfied. We spread Kong Gu You Lan's legs apart. For some reason, BJ's post-coital pleasure habits were so similar to mine. We always found it fascinating to look at Kong Gu You Lan's vaginal opening, where the essence of our love remained. We used our fingers to gently push out the mixture of our semen and her vaginal fluid, the satisfaction even surpassing the pleasure of sex itself. Finally, the beauty-loving Kong Gu You Lan inserted a small orchid into her vaginal opening. A beautiful, deep blue orchid adorned her slightly swollen, red vaginal opening, while vaginal fluid continued to flow freely. I began to understand why she was called Kong Gu You Lan; this woman was an elegant orchid blooming in a valley of lust, in a world of decadent group sex. The three of us embraced and rested, chatting happily for a while. Kong Gu You Lan and I were both married, and she, currently going through a divorce, had a deeper understanding of the marital life of people like us. Actually, that man had given her a choice back then: give up that special kind of sex, and he could give her a chance to save her marriage. Of course, this promise wasn't necessarily sincere. What happened later was that the man became addicted to the more exciting sex with seventeen or eighteen-year-old female college students, treating her as just a decorative vase for his highly educated wife. But even that insincere promise was still a promise; it could at least maintain the marriage on the surface. However, Kong Gu Youlan resolutely persisted in her sexual hobby, preferring to destroy her family. I, Ah Xizai, for my sexual hobby, have never been able to abandon my family. I can't abandon my wife and daughter, Mao Mao, in Guangzhou, to run away to Chengdu and form a family of four with Duo Duolong, Lan Qier, and Da Bangchui, living a happy life of group sex—that's the life I want, but I really can't do it. For my second trip to Chengdu, I've already decided to go. I know it's inappropriate. If I go this time, it will undoubtedly deepen our relationship with Lan Qier, like a drug. Our interactions will become more frequent, and Da Bangchui and I will become deeply entangled and unable to extricate ourselves. We are both people with our own families to support. The biggest victim of this relationship is undoubtedly the poor Duoduolong, who suffers from erectile dysfunction. Our presence is eroding his marriage with Lan Qier. If we hadn't shown up in Chengdu, perhaps resentment and disappointment could have helped Lan Qier completely forget us. Humans are emotional beings; for love, we often do things we know are wrong, yet stubbornly insist on doing them. BJ Happy said that although I seem rational and good at controlling myself, I'm actually a typical cold-on-the-outside-but-warm-on-the-inside person. He could see that my passion for Lan Qier was no less than Big Stick's, just expressed differently. "You've been here for several days, haven't you called home?" A chill ran down my spine. Kong Gu Youlan's question reminded me that I'd been gone for days and had completely forgotten to call and let them know I was safe. The problem was, I hadn't received a single call from my wife either. In fact, Kong Gu Youlan and BJ Beijing had already realized that my family was broken. My wife and I were both struggling to maintain a facade of harmony. No woman would accept the explanation that her husband is asking if the trash has been taken out while he's having sex with her and has reached orgasm. No woman would accept her husband frequently going on business trips without explanation, sometimes for days at a time without a word...My wife was just pretending not to care, but how long could this feigned harmony last? We were both exhausted. I hadn't considered the underlying issues of these family matters at the time, my mind preoccupied with Lan Qi'er. Because of Lan Qi'er, BJ Kuaile and Konggu Youlan didn't point it out to me. BJ Kuaile later regretted this; perhaps if he had pointed it out, I would have given up the trip to Chengdu, and at least then there would have been a glimmer of hope to save my family. The next day, I bought a morning flight ticket to Chengdu, and BJ Kuaile and Konggu Youlan both saw me off at the airport. On the way, I called home. My wife answered, and we didn't say much, just a few words about trivial things. Finally, she said, "Xizi, take care of yourself while you're away." When we were deeply in love, my wife liked to call me Xizi. That day, she suddenly called me Xizi again. I hadn't heard it for years, and it felt strange, but it truly stirred up the feelings I had for my wife back when we were deeply in love. Of course, this one "Xizi" wouldn't make me give up my second trip to Chengdu. After saying goodbye to Beijing and Konggu Youlan, I passed through security and arrived at the departure hall. I saw Da Bangchui sitting there, head down, lost in thought. I walked over and sat down next to him, deliberately making a lot of noise. The noise startled Da Bangchui, and when he looked up and saw it was me, he had a completely calm expression, showing no surprise whatsoever. He pouted and said, "Damn, you've got a heart of gold." When we arrived at Chengdu Shuangliu International Airport, the same driver and the same Buick were already waiting for us. All the way, Da Bangchui kept urging the driver to go faster, almost speeding several times. I knew Da Bangchui was eager to see Lan Qier, and to be honest, I was too. We didn't arrive at the entrance of the apartment complex where Duoduolong and Lan Qier lived until noon. As soon as we got out of the car, Da Bangchui sent the driver and the Buick away. We climbed up to their building and rang the doorbell for ages, but no one answered. We were both in such a rush to Chengdu that we'd both forgotten to let Duoduolong know beforehand. I called Duoduolong's cell phone, and it took him a while to answer. "Brother, you're here? What? Bangchui is here too? I'm at the hospital with Lan Qier. Are you waiting at the door? Okay, I'll go back and open the door for you now." We waited until 1:30 before Duoduolong finally returned home, drenched in sweat. Duoduolong looked much older than when we last visited, and his spirits were low; he was exhausted. Before we even got inside, Bangchui wanted him to take him to the hospital to see Lan Qier, but I stopped him. “Brother Bangchui, it’s already noon. Shouldn’t our sister rest? Besides, our brother just got back; he needs to rest and catch his breath too. We’re not in a rush.” “Little brother, have you eaten yet?” “Not yet.” “How about this, I’ll cook something for us to eat together first, then your brother and I will go buy some things for our sister. You can take them to the hospital this afternoon and tell her we’re here and to wait for her at home, okay?” At noon, I didn’t let Duoduolong do anything. I cooked a meal myself. It was actually quite simple: two stir-fried dishes, a pork rib and winter melon soup, and some scrambled eggs. Our mood was different from the last time we came. This time, neither Bangchui nor I, nor Duoduolong, were really in the mood to eat; it was purely to fill our stomachs. "Brother, what's wrong with our sister? Why is it so serious?" "The doctor said it's anorexia. Actually, ever since you left last time, Lan Qi'er hasn't been able to eat much. At her worst, she would vomit everything she ate. Last week, I saw her losing clumps of hair, and I panicked and took her to the hospital." "How are you taking care of your wife?" Big Hammer couldn't help but complain to Duo Duolong. "Brother, I'm sorry, but Lan Qi'er, she misses you all. She didn't want me to tell you, saying she was afraid it would affect your lives. If I hadn't been forced into this situation, I wouldn't have told you..." Duo Duolong rambled on like a child who had done something wrong. Big Hammer was speechless. "Brother, you should rest for a while. Your brother Bangchui and I will go out and buy some things for Lan Qi'er. After we come back and have dinner, you can go to the hospital to bring Lan Qi'er food, okay?" After dinner, regardless of whether Big Hammer wanted to or not, I dragged him out to buy things. The things I bought for Lan Qi'er were different from what Big Bangchui bought. He bought royal jelly, Ganoderma lucidum oral liquid, packets of nutritional supplements, and some high-end fruits. But I went to the pharmacy first and bought small packets of angelica, goji berries, ginseng, astragalus... Then I went to the market. I didn't mind the mess; I picked out ducks one by one. I wanted to buy a several-year-old female duck, and it had to be a grain-fed duck. I wanted to make a clear stewed old duck soup. This soup is the most nourishing and invigorating soup. At that time, I really didn't know what else I could do for Lan Qi'er besides making her a pot of nourishing soup. I also bought a fish, some pork ribs, and some vegetables for a bowl of rice. The three men in the family had already made do with lunch, but dinner couldn't be rushed. Big Bangchui and I didn't care, but Duoduolong had to eat something good, otherwise, in this state, he would have to stay in the hospital before Lan Qi'er was discharged. I spent the entire afternoon making that soup. I rinsed the Chinese herbs carefully several times, and I meticulously plucked the feathers from the duck again and again, leaving no detail overlooked, even the finest feathers on the wingtips. The tonic soup simmered for over four hours before it was finally ready, and I kept a close eye on the heat in the kitchen the whole time. When was the last time I made tonic soup like this? When? The feeling was so similar. I remembered, when my wife was in postpartum confinement, I spent several hours every day making her a pot of tonic soup like this. That feeling was tiring yet blissful; I hadn't felt that way in a long time. This time was different. On my first day in Chengdu, I actually felt a little homesick. After the three of us men finished dinner, I carefully packed the tonic soup into the soup container from Duoduolong's place. The three of us, carrying a whole bunch of nutritional supplements that Dabangchui had bought, and of course, a large container of tonic soup, went to the hospital with Duoduolong. Dabangchui wanted to call his Buick to pick us up, but we thought it was too much trouble, so we simply took a taxi. Lan Qi'er is hospitalized in the inpatient department of the First People's Hospital of Chengdu. Her ward is on the 8th floor, and we all went up to the 8th floor. I said to Duo Duolong, "Brother, take all your things in and tell Lan Qi'er that we've come to Chengdu and are waiting at home for her to get better so she can come home. Her brother Bangchui and I are waiting for her at home. But we can't come to the hospital to see her right now." "Brother Xi, Brother Bangchui, aren't you two going in?" "Yes, we'll just look at her from outside. Give us the room key now, and we'll go back first." "Ah Xi, we're already at the door, why don't we go in? Our sister wants to see us, why don't you stay outside and I'll go in with her?" "Brother Bangchui, how can you be so inconsiderate? If we go in, there are so many people in the ward. What would we look like if they were a couple? This isn't home. We know our relationship well, but outside, people will gossip. We'll have to take a plane and leave, but our younger brother and sister still have to live here." I grabbed him. We stood outside the ward, watching through the glass as Duoduolong carried the things inside and placed them on the coffee table beside Lan Qier's bed. Even though Dabangchui and I were watching through the window, and Lan Qier's bed was at the farthest point from the window, we could still see how haggard she looked. Her face was much thinner, her complexion sallow; the rosy glow she had when we first met was completely gone. Her hair was thinning, and she looked listless in her hospital gown. Duoduolong opened the soup container and ladled some soup for his wife, but Lan Qier shook her head, meaning she didn't want to eat and had no appetite. Duoduolong poured the soup back into the container. He whispered something to her, but she still shook her head. Finally, Duoduolong pointed to the window where we were standing, and Lan Qier looked in the direction he was pointing. This time, she saw us outside. Lan Qi'er didn't ask Duo Duolong to feed her the soup. She picked up the spoon herself, scooped up a spoonful of soup, and drank it slowly. First, she smelled the aroma of the soup, and after each sip, she savored it. Whether it was because the soup was too hot or because Lan Qi'er's eyes were itchy, tears streamed down her face as she drank, dripping into the steaming soup. We watched Lan Qi'er finish the soup before leaving the hospital. Duo Duolong, however, stayed at the hospital that night to take care of his wife while she received an IV drip. When I left the hospital, I was fine, but when I turned to look at Da Bangchui, this strong, burly man, his face was covered in tears, just like Lan Qi'er's. For the next few days, I tried different ways to nourish Lan Qi'er. I brewed various tonics from morning till night, including red date and chicken soup, yam and tortoise soup…Big Bang wasn't much help. He was good at cooking elaborate dishes, but when it came to making nourishing soups, we Cantonese men were the experts. He could only lend a hand, and sometimes he couldn't even help at all. "Ah Xi, I didn't realize you were so good at taking care of women," Big Bang said, quite impressed with me for a while. We never went to the hospital again. We were busy trying to find ways to nourish Lan Qi'er, while Duo Duolong stayed with his wife at the hospital every day. He would come back for lunch and dinner, bringing Lan Qi'er's food and nourishing soup. He would bring good news every day: Lan Qi'er had drunk another large box of soup, she could eat some rice, she had started eating some duck meat… Lan Qi'er's condition was getting better and better. Actually, anorexia sounds serious, but once a patient regains their appetite, recovery is just a matter of time. In the evenings, Big Bang and I had nothing to do and nothing to talk about. After all, the relationship between Big Bang and me couldn't compare to the happiness I had with BJ. Although we'd only met once, we hit it off immediately. The bond between BJ and me was like that of brothers, even closer than brothers, because we saw each other as another version of ourselves. After dinner, we'd usually just sit idly in the living room of Duoduolong and Lanqier's house, watching TV and chatting casually. Sometimes we'd even fall asleep watching TV, one on the sofa and the other on the recliner. Duoduolong and Lanqier's house was still the same house, the living room was still the same living room, but without the lady of the house, everything felt lonely. On our fourth day in Chengdu, Lanqier was discharged from the hospital. Dabangchui called the Buick and Duoduolong to pick her up. I prepared a delicious meal and drinks at home, a small celebration for Lanqier's discharge. The three of them returned home at noon. I had carefully prepared a delicious meal, but the four of us ate in a very somber mood. No one spoke much; even the usually eloquent Big Bang couldn't crack a joke to cheer Lan Qi'er up. Meng silently kept piling food into Lan Qi'er's bowl, until it was piled high. Meanwhile, I was busy piling more substantial dishes into Duo Duo Long's bowl. I don't know why, but I felt as if the four of us had just experienced a brush with death, or perhaps survived a catastrophe. None of the three of us men could bear to lose Lan Qi'er. During the afternoon nap, Big Bang and I carried Lan Qi'er to the main room, and the three of us slept side by side, just like last time. But that noon, we did nothing. Because Lan Qi'er was still very weak after recovering from her illness, we didn't even take off our clothes. We remained silent for a long time. "Brothers, you really shouldn't have come this time. I told Duoduolong that I couldn't tell the two brothers what happened here, otherwise you would have rushed over." "Brothers, it's not that I'm criticizing you, I'm grateful you care about me, but you have your own children, your wives, and your own families to take care of. You can't just think about me." Dabangchui and I remained silent. We really didn't know what to say; the atmosphere was very awkward. (To be continued, nearing an unexpected ending...)
What we look so alike is the air about us, a quality that's hard to describe, a melancholic, or perhaps helpless, repressed, rational air. It's not something you can fake or learn; it's innate, an outward manifestation of your deepest emotions. Our auras are similar, but not identical. I always lack one thing: our eyes. BJ's eyes always possess an elusive, almost poetic, romantic quality, a kind of sincere and genuine beauty, a unique charm that's both unrestrained and loyal. And this romance, this unique charm, is the most lethal weapon for many women. When I got in the car, I called Da Bangchui. He was very surprised and excited by my sudden visit and invited us to have dinner together that afternoon. BJ didn't take me to the hotel; instead, he took me directly to his house to drop off my luggage. This completely violated our group's confidentiality policy. Normally, we group members don't meet at our own homes, but rather at hotels or teahouses. BJ Happy didn't treat me as just another group member with similar interests; he treated me as a friend, a rare find in his life. Of all the group members, including myself, only two have visited his home. BJ lives near Zizhuyuan Park; it's not large, about 100 square meters. His home is impeccably clean and tidy. His living room isn't cluttered with antiques, porcelain, or paintings by famous artists, like most Beijing homes that like to show off. Except for his recently hand-painted portrait of a beauty on the right-hand screen wall, the rest of his walls are spotless. I don't understand traditional Chinese painting, but I think BJ Happy's portrait of a beauty has a special, hazy beauty. The brushstrokes are very meticulous, creating a hazy effect; the viewer can never clearly see the girl's face, like seeing a beauty through a drizzle, or brushing past a beautiful woman through a fog. The haziness itself is a kind of beauty. His choice of colors was also very skillful. The girl wore a pink dress; this pink was bright yet understated, not overly flashy, but rather elegant and even warm. The living room of BJ's Happy House was relatively spacious. There was no television, only a Sony stereo system. As an audiophile, I knew without looking that this system was definitely expensive. Next to the stereo was a record shelf with a large stack of records—all piano pieces. At home, I mostly listen to heavy metal; this difference in musical taste perfectly mirrors our personality differences. BJ's Happy House had many, many potted orchids of all kinds. I could name Phalaenopsis orchids, Clivia, and even some varieties I couldn't name. Sitting in his living room felt like taking a nap in an orchid garden—comfortable, relaxing, like being in nature. There's a piano in BJ's living room. My wife studied piano for a while, so I'm quite familiar with it—a Mendelssohn, a famous German brand, known for its excellent sound quality. Later, I learned that BJ Kuai is an incredibly talented person; he can paint traditional Chinese paintings, play the piano, and has beautiful calligraphy. BJ Kuai also has a slight obsession with cleanliness. The whole house is spotless; not only the furniture and appliances, but even the floors are repeatedly wiped until they're practically mirrors. Like me, when I'm home, I like to clean, wiping the furniture and floors again and again. BJ Kuai says it's hard for any man to understand this almost obsessive cleaning work; only he and I understand. We're not just cleaning our home, but also our hearts. He's right. Every time I clean, my mood becomes very calm and peaceful. "Axi, I'm happy you're coming to Beijing, but my heart is also a little sore." Of course, I know what's making Big Bangchui so sore; my heart is also filled with a bittersweet feeling. The three of us ate Hubei cuisine. Big Bangchui only ordered the hearty dishes, and a huge table of food was served. In the end, we couldn't eat much, but we drank quite a bit. Strangely enough, all three of us had our own worries, but we didn't say anything at the table. Big Bangchui, on the other hand, started drinking alone. That night, Big Bangchui was completely drunk and kept saying the same thing to me. "Axi, you're here. I should be happy, but my heart... why does it hurt so much?" I knew he wasn't hurting me. BJ Kuaile found a hotel nearby and booked a room for Big Bangchui. Then, the two of us finally managed to carry the big guy, who was completely drunk, upstairs to sleep before leaving. That night, BJ Kuaile and I slept side by side. Honestly, although my sexual preferences involve group sex, one woman with multiple men, I've never tried sleeping with only one man. But sleeping with BJ Happy didn't feel strange at all. He's like a brother to me. Homosexuality and pornography are completely foreign to us. BJ Happy and I talked about many things until dawn before going to sleep. I talked about my childhood in the countryside, my first love, my first time having sex, meeting my current wife, my children, and even my married life. Of course, I didn't hide anything from him about my trip to Chengdu with Big Stick, my current family situation, my worries and troubles… I didn't hide anything, and I didn't need to hold anything back. BJ Happy also told me about his family's life in the courtyard house when he was a child, how he would lull his younger sister to sleep on summer nights by teaching her to count stars, how his sister would wipe his sweat while he played soccer in elementary school, how his father beat him for writing love letters to girls in junior high and how his sister pleaded for him, how he and his sister endured hardship after their parents passed away one after another, how he felt about his sister's wedding, how he was nervous, excited, and a little guilty about his first time engaging in group sex, and how he talked about PK spicy hot pot and CQ pickled fish...We treated each other as if we were ourselves, confiding in each other as if we were having a conversation with our own hearts. One can hide things from anyone else, but not from one's own heart. The next day, when I woke up, BJ Happy had already left; he had gone to work. As I went out into the lobby, I saw a woman with her back to me, carefully watering pots of orchids. I assumed she was a cleaning lady and didn't pay much attention at first, going to the washroom to wash up. After I finished washing up, I saw the woman kneeling on the floor, diligently wiping it. Her buttocks were raised high, round and pert, looking particularly alluring. I couldn't see the cleaning lady's face, but I was certain her figure was incredibly seductive. "Ah Xi, you came yesterday, right?" The cleaning lady I thought was her turned around. She was a woman with black-rimmed glasses, appearing mature and elegant, like a rare orchid in a secluded valley. I had seen her picture before; honestly, she was even more beautiful in person than in the photos. Her skin was very fair and delicate, she looked to be in her early thirties, serene and elegant, with a scholarly air—a typical beautiful middle-aged woman from the North. Later I learned that there were so many people in the group, and that I was the only one who knew where BJ Happy lived. Only Konggu Youlan had a key to his house and could come and go as she pleased. Aside from mentioning Konggu Youlan to me at the beginning, BJ Happy rarely talked about her afterward. I didn't even know what their relationship was—lovers? Or just friends with benefits? At least she was so focused while cleaning, like the lady of the house. I couldn't let her do all the work alone, so I grabbed a rag and helped. "Sister Lan, I just arrived yesterday," we chatted casually as we cleaned. After finishing, we washed our hands and rested on the sofa in the living room for a while. A clivia plant had already bloomed, six tender yellow flowers in full bloom, their fragrance filling the air of the living room, making it particularly pleasant. "Ah happy, do you like orchids?" "Yes." "I like them too, that's why my online name is 'Orchid in a Secluded Valley.' All the orchids here are ones I planted. Some I just bought, some I've had at home for years before moving here. I come over to take care of them every two or three days." "BJ, does he like orchids?" "He doesn't like flowers and plants, he thinks they attract bugs." "Then why do you plant so many orchids here?" "Because I want to bring a touch of orchid fragrance into his life." "Orchids grow in secluded valleys, their fragrance undiminished by solitude; a virtuous person cultivates morality, their integrity unchanged by poverty." I always felt that "Orchid in a Secluded Valley" didn't just want to plant orchids in the living room, but rather to plant them directly in a man's heart. "Ah Xi, are you still tired?" "No, let's make love." For some reason, our position that day was particularly strange. I placed "Orchid in a Secluded Valley" on the floor, had her lie face down, and lifted her buttocks high, like she was wiping the floor. I pulled down her pants from behind, and I lay on my stomach, licking her vulva from behind. I forcefully parted her labia majora; her vulva was very clean, without any leukorrhea or other vaginal discharge. It was warm and moist. I gently played with her clitoris. I smelled the scent of her genitals. The scent of her genitals was completely different from my wife's and Lan Qi'er's. It didn't have that particularly strong fishy or pungent smell unique to women. This erotic scent was subtle, mixed with a stronger, sweet floral fragrance, like the scent of orchids. It smelled very pleasant, and the aphrodisiac scent was very strong. In the hall filled with the fragrance of orchids, I played with her vulva for a long time before I brought her to her first orgasm. Rather than saying that the fluid flowing from her vulva during our orgasm was an uncontrollable flood, it was more like a gentle stream, gushing out little by little, like a sullen vulva slowly releasing its suppressed lust. I swallowed every drop of semen flowing from Kong Gu You Lan's vagina. This oral sex experience with Kong Gu You Lan is always a blur for me; I can't even remember if we did it like cleaning or like cleaning. We made love on the chair next to the piano. I'd never done it like this before. I sat on the chair next to the piano, while Kong Gu You Lan half-squatted on it, her vaginal opening aligned with my penis, and then she guided it slowly into her vagina. Our position was somewhat similar to Guanyin sitting on a lotus. The biggest characteristic of this position is that the woman controls the entire process; the force, rhythm, and depth are all controlled by the frequency and strength of her vaginal thrusts. From oral sex to penetration, I didn't unbutton Kong Gu You Lan's top. Kong Gu You Lan opened the piano case, and as she played the first note, my thrusting began. The first piece Kong Gu You Lan played was "Ballade pour Adeline," a piece I knew very well, but the feeling of thrusting while listening was completely different. The rhythm of this piece is very soothing, leaving a vast space for imagination. I simply closed my eyes, letting the music drift through my mind. This imaginary pleasure, combined with the real, sensual stimulation of the thrusting in my lower body, created a wonderful sensation. I felt like a small boat adrift on a river, floating gently with the flowing water. The night was dim, and I vaguely saw my beloved sitting by the riverbank, indistinctly, like Lan Qi'er. One piece after another, "Orchid in the Valley," constantly shifted between different styles. One moment I felt like I was sitting with Lan Qi'er in a late autumn wheat field, playing a volleyball, facing the golden waves of wheat; the next I was sitting by the azure sea, facing the raging waves; and then I was sitting on a summer night's grass, gazing at the boundless starry sky…Our thrusting was perfectly synchronized with the rhythm of the music, sometimes wild, sometimes gentle, sometimes calm. I simultaneously stimulated her clitoris with my fingers; her expression was one of pure ecstasy, the music and the stimulation from within her vagina sending her into multiple orgasms. I had never experienced such unbridled pleasure, such whimsical fantasies, such elegant yet undeniably erotic lovemaking. If someone were to enter BJ's living room at that moment, they wouldn't find it strange, because all they could hear was the piano music, and see were the two of them playing and listening to the piano. The waves of carnal pleasure, like raging ocean waves, from the intense friction of the sex toys beneath the piano table could only be experienced by the two of us. The last piece, Für Elise, faded into the background, and we both reached the pinnacle of pleasure. Afterwards, I lifted Kong Gu You Lan onto the piano table. I spread her legs, parted her labia majora, and used four fingers to shape her vaginal opening into a large, lewd "O." I saw my semen slowly flowing out of her vagina, dripping from the junction of her anus and vagina onto the piano, slowly seeping into the gaps between the keys. I had never experienced such elegant and artistic sex. Pleasure, an indescribable feeling of pleasure, surged into my heart. Counting the time, I realized I had been thrusting for almost an hour before ejaculating, while Kong Gu You Lan had already played over a dozen pieces. The state I could never find at home had miraculously revived with Kong Gu You Lan. Kong Gu You Lan and I kept making love, even when BJ returned from his happy time, we were still in the kitchen, making love while cooking soup. I don't know why, but that day I never took off Kong Gu You Lan's top. I really liked how she looked in her black-rimmed glasses and formal attire, which aroused my desire even more. Gu Long once said that men are the most contradictory creatures; they always want virtuous women to act like harlots, while simultaneously wanting harlots to act like virtuous women. In my eyes, there's no distinction between virtuous and harlot women, only between women with strong and weak libidos. A woman like Kong Gu You Lan, who appears elegant and refined yet consistently has a high sex drive, particularly satisfies me. I even wish my wife could play the piano well, so we could reach climax together with piano accompaniment. When I'm home, Kong Gu You Lan comes to BJ's house every day. When BJ isn't home, she helps me with cleaning, making love, and cooking. When BJ is home, we eat together and play sandwiches. Sometimes the three of us lie in BJ's large bathtub for a hot bath. Kong Gu You Lan leans between us, and we each play with one of her breasts, spreading her legs wide, each of us parting her labia and inserting our fingers into her vagina. I admit I really love her fragrant, orchid-like scent. I've always struggled to understand the relationship between Kong Gu You Lan and BJ Kuaile. Their relationship always seemed somewhere between friends with benefits and lovers. I don't know when BJ Kuaile developed this inexplicable connection with her, nor do I understand what he liked about her. What I don't understand most is why she always leaves in the evenings. Later I learned that Kong Gu You Lan had an eight-year-old daughter, and at that time she was going through a divorce. In the evenings, she would rush to pick her daughter up from school. She spent her evenings with her daughter because the divorce proceedings seemed inevitable; custody of their daughter was highly likely to be awarded to her husband. Kong Gu You Lan could only try to delay the proceedings and spend as much time with her daughter as possible before her husband took her away. Kong Gu You Lan and her husband met in Canada. She was a piano performance major, and her husband was a high-energy physics major. They were both international students in Canada at the time and eventually obtained permanent residency. They started participating in group sex activities while in Canada. Initially, as a new mother, she was unwilling to participate, finding it dirty. Later, she gave in to her husband's persistent pleas and participated once. That one time, she experienced a sexual pleasure she had never felt before, and group sex became her lifelong sexual passion, something she never tired of. Later, both she and her husband returned to China after completing their studies. Her husband quickly rose to become a professor and head of the physics department at a university, while she remained unemployed, occasionally teaching piano to children at home. She gradually became aware of her husband's changes. When they first returned, they would still participate in some secret, private group sex activities, but her husband went less and less often, and his attitude towards his wife's interests grew increasingly contemptuous. Until one day, after their daughter went to school, she caught her husband and a female university student in bed together. Only then did she realize that her husband wasn't a fan of group sex or multiple partners; he just wanted to seek thrills, and now, what thrilled him even more was taking advantage of seventeen or eighteen-year-old female university students. Divorce was inevitable, but the custody of their daughter became the biggest problem. Legally, daughters usually go to their mothers. However, the despicable man presented a video he had secretly filmed of Kong Gu Youlan engaging in group sex in court, completely siding with the husband. Kong Gu Youlan, losing both her marriage and her daughter, was on the verge of collapse. She began frantically seeking sex and engaging in group sex until she met BJ Kuai Le. Kong Gu Youlan gradually fell for this man, a few years younger than her. She didn't want anything from his family; she only wanted the orchids she had cultivated for years. She moved all the orchids to BJ Kuai Le's house. She enjoyed cooking for him, cleaning his house, having sex with him, and participating in group sex with him. Kong Gu Youlan understood that with this man, she could find warmth and a sense of home. But BJ Kuai Le never had a place for her in his heart. She could plant orchids in BJ Kuai Le's house, but she could never plant herself in his heart. At that time, Kong Gu Youlan had already decided to leave China, to leave this place of heartbreak. I can understand BJ Kuaile's feelings for Kong Gu Youlan. It's not love, but BJ Kuaile gradually got used to having a woman cook for him, clean his house, and have one-on-one sex. Of course, they shared the same interests and could engage in group sex and multi-person sex games. Isn't this the ideal life—a socially acceptable, couple-style marriage that also satisfies our desire for group sex and multi-person sex? I finally understood the biggest difference between BJ Kuaile and me. The pressure of marriage on me was increasing daily, and the guilt of emotional and physical infidelity was constantly weighing on my heart. At this time, BJ Kuaile had begun to yearn for married life, but he was completely unsure whether he needed a normal, ordinary marriage like Kong Gu Youlan's that satisfied his desires, or a marriage like PK Malatang's, a three-person marriage that wasn't tolerated by society. BJ Kuaile couldn't figure out who he truly loved—Kong Gu Youlan or PK Malatang. Perhaps it wasn't the ethereal beauty, but rather the feeling of a normal married life he shared with her. Or perhaps it wasn't PK Malatang, not out of fear of hurting CQ Sauerkraut Fish, but rather that his ambiguous feelings for her—a feeling that was both romantic and sibling-like—were simply an illusion, a delusion. When I met BJ Happy Sister in person, I realized that neither the ethereal beauty nor PK Malatang was the person BJ Happy loved. He only loved one person in the world: his own sister. I often think of the painting of a beautiful woman hanging on his wall. The woman resembles both the ethereal beauty and PK Malatang, but neither is truly the other. The most striking, prominent, and unambiguous element in the painting is the color of her clothing—pink. BJ Happy Sister has always favored pink, wearing only pink from childhood to adulthood. Unfortunately, the painter, BJ Happy, only saw the beauty, not the color. During that time, BJ Happy was particularly interested in my family, even showing special concern for my daughter, Mao Mao, claiming he wanted to be her godfather. My arrival did indeed improve BJ's mood considerably. When I left, he seemed to have already made some decisions. After a few days of staying in Beijing, I was about to say goodbye and return to Guangzhou. I received a private message on my QQ from Duoduolong, who hadn't been seen in a long time. It was just one sentence: "Brother, please, Lan Qi'er is sick, really sick. Please, come see her." This message was also sent to Dabangchui's number. When we were discussing whether to go to Chengdu in the teahouse, Dabangchui and I had a huge disagreement, and we almost had a fight. "Axi, I only just realized this now! You bastard, you're not even a man, you know? Don't think that just because you're a bit tall you're a man. Let me tell you, you're not a real man. Girl, she's so sick, and you don't even go see her. Do you even have any humanity left?" Dabangchui snapped at me, his thick Beijing accent and profanities hurling insults at me. But I didn't utter a word in response. He wouldn't understand what I was thinking."Big Stick, don't go too far! You're really pushing your luck! This isn't a discussion, is it? Who are you spitting that filth on? Can't you shut up?" Strangely enough, BJ Happy is a few years younger than Big Stick, and Big Stick usually listens to him, but this time it didn't work either. The three of us parted on bad terms. "Ah Xi, if you're not going, I have to go. I'm going to see my sister by myself. From now on, when I go to Chengdu, I'll tell my sister we'll go our separate ways, and we won't know Ah Xi anymore." Big Stick stormed off, slamming his cup down. Since I originally planned to return to Guangzhou the next day, Kong Gu You Lan simply stayed overnight at BJ Happy's house and cooked me a nice meal. In her words, BJ Happy can play the piano, paint Chinese paintings, grow orchids… he seems to know everything, except cooking. That's true. I've witnessed it firsthand. On my second day there, he bought me a fish and excitedly made me a braised fish dish. It looked presentable, but when I ate it, I realized he was an amateur; he hadn't even scaled it, making me feel nauseous. Apparently, BJ Kuaile usually stays home alone and doesn't cook, just eating takeout. At his house, Kong Gu Youlan cooks everything. There's a soup every day, called pepper and pork tripe soup, which she makes especially for him. He's developed a stomach problem from always making do with what he has. Kong Gu Youlan makes this soup to warm his stomach, and it takes her at least three hours to make it every day, not including the time spent buying ingredients at the market. I still think that BJ Kuaile's final choice of Kong Gu Youlan as his partner was the wisest one. Later, I also met PK Malatang. She's younger, prettier, more energetic, and has more sexual appeal, making her more attractive to men. However, there was one thing she never quite matched compared to Kong Gu You Lan: she didn't know how to cherish, care for, or love a man. Actually, it wasn't her fault; she was someone who couldn't even take care of herself. Kong Gu You Lan had experienced a deeply painful failed marriage. When she fell in love with a man again, she would cherish him unconditionally, caring for him in every little detail, always unconditionally obeying him. After a few days, the three of us became familiar with each other. This familiarity was both spiritual and physical. I was as open and honest with Kong Gu You Lan as I was with BJ Kuaile, completely unreserved. I already considered her BJ Kuaile's woman, and of course, Kong Gu You Lan's body was also given to me without reservation. Honestly, I was utterly captivated by BJ Kuaile's living room. It was like a small garden, filled with the faint scent of grass and flowers. We often had a standing sandwich there. Rather than calling it a standing sandwich-style sex, it's more accurate to describe it as a walking or flower-viewing style of sex, because we would slowly move among the orchids, thrusting our penises into the vagina and anus of the orchid. Sometimes, the three of us would suddenly stop, all three of us leaning over to smell a pot of Cymbidium orchids in bloom, while my penis remained inside the orchid's vagina, and of course, BJ's penis remained inside her anus. This way of appreciating orchids, where the vagina and anus were filled with the fullness of a huge penis, was more novel, unique, and more erotic and beautiful. This slow-paced, flower-viewing style of 3P was more likely to stimulate a man's libido and prolong his ejaculation time. The pleasure experienced was not only carnal but also included unparalleled spiritual joy. These romantic 3P experiences were unprecedented and unparalleled for me, because in the years that followed, I could never find a male playmate with BJ's poetic temperament, nor a woman with the artistic temperament of the orchid. Konggu Youlan doesn't like one-on-one group sex; when all three of us are present, we always have a threesome. Of the three of us, Konggu Youlan has the most experience in group sex; she was already playing one-woman-to-many-men sex games back in Canada. She has a particularly deep understanding of this style. She once said that group sex is like what? Like her lifelong hobby and work—playing the piano. On the piano keyboard, you play one note, which represents one person; you play another note, which represents yet another. One man having sex with one woman is like playing two notes; even if you do it a thousand or ten thousand times, it's just simple repetition, just noise, not rhythm, not melody, and certainly not a complete piece. Group sex, on the other hand, is like all the notes participating together. Different techniques are different rhythms, various variations are the melody, and a perfect sexual experience is a perfect movement in life's music. Perhaps some might ask why we so prefer one woman with multiple men, rather than multiple women with multiple men, or multiple women with one man. Actually, every type of sexual activity has its scientific basis. Women's bodies are different from men's; they are more difficult to satisfy sexually, especially women over their thirties. There's a saying: "Thirty like a wolf, forty like a tiger, fifty like a sitting duck sucking up the earth." For men, after thirty, sexual ability declines linearly, and many men even become impotent by forty, leading to a "not being satisfied" issue for their wives. This necessitates a type of sex involving multiple men with one woman to address both male sexual stimulation and the woman's perceived "not being satisfied." Other group sex methods, such as one man with seven women, are less reliable. How many men can ejaculate seven times in a row? For many women, however, having sex seven times in one night isn't a big deal. We made love all night with three people, continuously ejaculating into each other's vaginas. As dawn approached, we finally satisfied. We spread Kong Gu You Lan's legs apart. For some reason, BJ's post-coital pleasure habits were so similar to mine. We always found it fascinating to look at Kong Gu You Lan's vaginal opening, where the essence of our love remained. We used our fingers to gently push out the mixture of our semen and her vaginal fluid, the satisfaction even surpassing the pleasure of sex itself. Finally, the beauty-loving Kong Gu You Lan inserted a small orchid into her vaginal opening. A beautiful, deep blue orchid adorned her slightly swollen, red vaginal opening, while vaginal fluid continued to flow freely. I began to understand why she was called Kong Gu You Lan; this woman was an elegant orchid blooming in a valley of lust, in a world of decadent group sex. The three of us embraced and rested, chatting happily for a while. Kong Gu You Lan and I were both married, and she, currently going through a divorce, had a deeper understanding of the marital life of people like us. Actually, that man had given her a choice back then: give up that special kind of sex, and he could give her a chance to save her marriage. Of course, this promise wasn't necessarily sincere. What happened later was that the man became addicted to the more exciting sex with seventeen or eighteen-year-old female college students, treating her as just a decorative vase for his highly educated wife. But even that insincere promise was still a promise; it could at least maintain the marriage on the surface. However, Kong Gu Youlan resolutely persisted in her sexual hobby, preferring to destroy her family. I, Ah Xizai, for my sexual hobby, have never been able to abandon my family. I can't abandon my wife and daughter, Mao Mao, in Guangzhou, to run away to Chengdu and form a family of four with Duo Duolong, Lan Qier, and Da Bangchui, living a happy life of group sex—that's the life I want, but I really can't do it. For my second trip to Chengdu, I've already decided to go. I know it's inappropriate. If I go this time, it will undoubtedly deepen our relationship with Lan Qier, like a drug. Our interactions will become more frequent, and Da Bangchui and I will become deeply entangled and unable to extricate ourselves. We are both people with our own families to support. The biggest victim of this relationship is undoubtedly the poor Duoduolong, who suffers from erectile dysfunction. Our presence is eroding his marriage with Lan Qier. If we hadn't shown up in Chengdu, perhaps resentment and disappointment could have helped Lan Qier completely forget us. Humans are emotional beings; for love, we often do things we know are wrong, yet stubbornly insist on doing them. BJ Happy said that although I seem rational and good at controlling myself, I'm actually a typical cold-on-the-outside-but-warm-on-the-inside person. He could see that my passion for Lan Qier was no less than Big Stick's, just expressed differently. "You've been here for several days, haven't you called home?" A chill ran down my spine. Kong Gu Youlan's question reminded me that I'd been gone for days and had completely forgotten to call and let them know I was safe. The problem was, I hadn't received a single call from my wife either. In fact, Kong Gu Youlan and BJ Beijing had already realized that my family was broken. My wife and I were both struggling to maintain a facade of harmony. No woman would accept the explanation that her husband is asking if the trash has been taken out while he's having sex with her and has reached orgasm. No woman would accept her husband frequently going on business trips without explanation, sometimes for days at a time without a word...My wife was just pretending not to care, but how long could this feigned harmony last? We were both exhausted. I hadn't considered the underlying issues of these family matters at the time, my mind preoccupied with Lan Qi'er. Because of Lan Qi'er, BJ Kuaile and Konggu Youlan didn't point it out to me. BJ Kuaile later regretted this; perhaps if he had pointed it out, I would have given up the trip to Chengdu, and at least then there would have been a glimmer of hope to save my family. The next day, I bought a morning flight ticket to Chengdu, and BJ Kuaile and Konggu Youlan both saw me off at the airport. On the way, I called home. My wife answered, and we didn't say much, just a few words about trivial things. Finally, she said, "Xizi, take care of yourself while you're away." When we were deeply in love, my wife liked to call me Xizi. That day, she suddenly called me Xizi again. I hadn't heard it for years, and it felt strange, but it truly stirred up the feelings I had for my wife back when we were deeply in love. Of course, this one "Xizi" wouldn't make me give up my second trip to Chengdu. After saying goodbye to Beijing and Konggu Youlan, I passed through security and arrived at the departure hall. I saw Da Bangchui sitting there, head down, seemingly lost in thought. I walked over and sat down next to him, deliberately making a loud noise. The noise startled Da Bangchui, who looked up and saw it was me, surprisingly calm and unsurprised. He pouted and said, "Damn, you've got a heart of gold." When we arrived at Chengdu Shuangliu International Airport, the same driver and the same Buick were already waiting for us. All the way, Da Bangchui kept urging the driver to go faster, almost speeding several times. I knew Da Bangchui was eager to see Lan Qier, and honestly, I was too. We didn't arrive at the entrance of the apartment complex where Duoduolong and Lan Qier lived until noon. As soon as we got out of the car, Da Bangchui dismissed the driver and the Buick. We climbed up to their building and rang the doorbell for ages, but no one answered. We were both in such a rush to Chengdu that we'd both forgotten to let Duoduolong know beforehand. I called Duoduolong's cell phone, and it took him a while to answer. "Brother, you're here? What? Bangchui is here too? I'm at the hospital with Lan Qier. Are you waiting at the door? Okay, I'll go back and open the door for you now." We waited until 1:30 before Duoduolong finally returned home, drenched in sweat. Duoduolong looked much older than when we last visited, and his spirits were low; he was exhausted. Before we even got inside, Bangchui wanted him to take him to the hospital to see Lan Qier, but I stopped him. “Brother Bangchui, it’s already noon. Shouldn’t our sister rest? Besides, our brother just got back; he needs to rest and catch his breath too. We’re not in a rush.” “Little brother, have you eaten yet?” “Not yet.” “How about this, I’ll cook something for us to eat together first, then your brother and I will go buy some things for our sister. You can take them to the hospital this afternoon and tell her we’re here and to wait for her at home, okay?” At noon, I didn’t let Duoduolong do anything. I cooked a meal myself. It was actually quite simple: two stir-fried dishes, a pork rib and winter melon soup, and some scrambled eggs. Our mood was different from the last time we came. This time, neither Bangchui nor I, nor Duoduolong, were really in the mood to eat; it was purely to fill our stomachs. "Brother, what's wrong with our sister? Why is it so serious?" "The doctor said it's anorexia. Actually, ever since you left last time, Lan Qi'er hasn't been able to eat much. At her worst, she would vomit everything she ate. Last week, I saw her losing clumps of hair, and I panicked and took her to the hospital." "How are you taking care of your wife?" Big Hammer couldn't help but complain to Duo Duolong. "Brother, I'm sorry, but Lan Qi'er, she misses you all. She didn't want me to tell you, saying she was afraid it would affect your lives. If I hadn't been forced into this situation, I wouldn't have told you..." Duo Duolong rambled on like a child who had done something wrong. Big Hammer was speechless. "Brother, you should rest for a while. Your brother Bangchui and I will go out and buy some things for Lan Qi'er. After we come back and have dinner, you can go to the hospital to bring Lan Qi'er food, okay?" After dinner, regardless of whether Big Hammer wanted to or not, I dragged him out to buy things. The things I bought for Lan Qi'er were different from what Big Bangchui bought. He bought royal jelly, Ganoderma lucidum oral liquid, packets of nutritional supplements, and some high-end fruits. But I went to the pharmacy first and bought small packets of angelica, goji berries, ginseng, astragalus... Then I went to the market. I didn't mind the mess; I picked out ducks one by one. I wanted to buy a several-year-old female duck, and it had to be a grain-fed duck. I wanted to make a clear stewed old duck soup. This soup is the most nourishing and invigorating soup. At that time, I really didn't know what else I could do for Lan Qi'er besides making her a pot of nourishing soup. I also bought a fish, some pork ribs, and some vegetables for a bowl of rice. The three men in the family had already made do with lunch, but dinner couldn't be rushed. Big Bangchui and I didn't care, but Duoduolong had to eat something good, otherwise, in this state, he would have to stay in the hospital before Lan Qi'er was discharged. I spent the entire afternoon making that soup. I rinsed the Chinese herbs carefully several times, and I meticulously plucked the feathers from the duck again and again, leaving no detail overlooked, even the finest feathers on the wingtips. The tonic soup simmered for over four hours before it was finally ready, and I kept a close eye on the heat in the kitchen the whole time. When was the last time I made tonic soup like this? When? The feeling was so similar. I remembered, when my wife was in postpartum confinement, I spent several hours every day making her a pot of tonic soup like this. That feeling was tiring yet blissful; I hadn't felt that way in a long time. This time was different. On my first day in Chengdu, I actually felt a little homesick. After the three of us men finished dinner, I carefully packed the tonic soup into the soup container from Duoduolong's place. The three of us, carrying a whole bunch of nutritional supplements that Dabangchui had bought, and of course, a large container of tonic soup, went to the hospital with Duoduolong. Dabangchui wanted to call his Buick to pick us up, but we thought it was too much trouble, so we simply took a taxi. Lan Qi'er is hospitalized in the inpatient department of the First People's Hospital of Chengdu. Her ward is on the 8th floor, and we all went up to the 8th floor. I said to Duo Duolong, "Brother, take all your things in and tell Lan Qi'er that we've come to Chengdu and are waiting at home for her to get better so she can come home. Her brother Bangchui and I are waiting for her at home. But we can't come to the hospital to see her right now." "Brother Xi, Brother Bangchui, aren't you two going in?" "Yes, we'll just look at her from outside. Give us the room key now, and we'll go back first." "Ah Xi, we're already at the door, why don't we go in? Our sister wants to see us, why don't you stay outside and I'll go in with her?" "Brother Bangchui, how can you be so inconsiderate? If we go in, there are so many people in the ward. What would we look like if they were a couple? This isn't home. We know our relationship well, but outside, people will gossip. We'll have to take a plane and leave, but our younger brother and sister still have to live here." I grabbed him. We stood outside the ward, watching through the glass as Duoduolong carried the things inside and placed them on the coffee table beside Lan Qier's bed. Even though Dabangchui and I were watching through the window, and Lan Qier's bed was at the farthest point from the window, we could still see how haggard she looked. Her face was much thinner, her complexion sallow; the rosy glow she had when we first met was completely gone. Her hair was thinning, and she looked listless in her hospital gown. Duoduolong opened the soup container and ladled some soup for his wife, but Lan Qier shook her head, meaning she didn't want to eat and had no appetite. Duoduolong poured the soup back into the container. He whispered something to her, but she still shook her head. Finally, Duoduolong pointed to the window where we were standing, and Lan Qier looked in the direction he was pointing. This time, she saw us outside. Lan Qi'er didn't ask Duo Duolong to feed her the soup. She picked up the spoon herself, scooped up a spoonful of soup, and drank it slowly. First, she smelled the aroma of the soup, and after each sip, she savored it. Whether it was because the soup was too hot or because Lan Qi'er's eyes were itchy, tears streamed down her face as she drank, dripping into the steaming soup. We watched Lan Qi'er finish the soup before leaving the hospital. Duo Duolong, however, stayed at the hospital that night to take care of his wife while she received an IV drip. When I left the hospital, I was fine, but when I turned to look at Da Bangchui, this strong, burly man, his face was covered in tears, just like Lan Qi'er's. For the next few days, I tried different ways to nourish Lan Qi'er. I brewed various tonics from morning till night, including red date and chicken soup, yam and tortoise soup…Big Bang wasn't much help. He was a bit skilled at cooking elaborate dishes, but when it came to making nourishing soups, we Cantonese men were the experts. He could only lend a hand, and sometimes he couldn't even help at all. "Ah Xi, I didn't realize you were so good at taking care of women," Big Bang said, quite impressed with me for a while. We never went to the hospital again. We were busy every day trying to find ways to nourish Lan Qi'er, while Duo Duolong stayed with his wife at the hospital every day. He would come back for lunch and dinner, bringing Lan Qi'er's food and nourishing soup. He would bring good news every day: Lan Qi'er had drunk another large box of soup; she could eat some rice; she had started eating some duck meat… Lan Qi'er's condition was getting better and better. Actually, anorexia sounds serious, but once a patient regains their appetite, recovery is just a matter of time. In the evenings, Big Bang and I had nothing to do and nothing to talk about. After all, the relationship between Big Bang and me couldn't compare to the happiness I had with BJ. Although we'd only met once, we hit it off immediately. The bond between BJ and me was like that of brothers, even closer than brothers, because we saw each other as another version of ourselves. After dinner, we'd usually just sit idly in the living room of Duoduolong and Lanqier's house, watching TV and chatting casually. Sometimes we'd even fall asleep watching TV, one on the sofa and the other on the recliner. Duoduolong and Lanqier's house was still the same house, the living room was still the same living room, but without the lady of the house, everything felt lonely. On our fourth day in Chengdu, Lanqier was discharged from the hospital. Dabangchui called the Buick and Duoduolong to pick her up. I prepared a delicious meal and drinks at home, a small celebration for Lanqier's discharge. The three of them returned home at noon. I had carefully prepared a delicious meal, but the four of us ate in a very somber mood. No one spoke much; even the usually eloquent Big Bang couldn't crack a joke to cheer Lan Qi'er up. Meng silently kept piling food into Lan Qi'er's bowl, until it was piled high. Meanwhile, I was busy piling more substantial dishes into Duo Duo Long's bowl. I don't know why, but I felt as if the four of us had just experienced a brush with death, or perhaps survived a catastrophe. None of the three of us men could bear to lose Lan Qi'er. During the afternoon nap, Big Bang and I carried Lan Qi'er to the main room, and the three of us slept side by side, just like last time. But that noon, we did nothing. Because Lan Qi'er was still very weak after recovering from her illness, we didn't even take off our clothes. We remained silent for a long time. "Brothers, you really shouldn't have come this time. I told Duoduolong that I couldn't tell the two brothers what happened here, otherwise you would have rushed over." "Brothers, it's not that I'm criticizing you, I'm grateful you care about me, but you have your own children, your wives, and your own families to take care of. You can't just think about me." Dabangchui and I remained silent. We really didn't know what to say; the atmosphere was very awkward. (To be continued, nearing an unexpected ending...)

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