Alluring

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Qingcheng lay beside Long Xiaoqi, eyes closed, looking exhausted.

The car door was still open, and it was raining outside, but Qingcheng showed no intention of closing it. Since leaving the villa, she had seemed lost, her lips tightly pressed together, her face pale, and her whole body trembling.

Long Xiaoqi could guess why. A famous actor lived in the villa; he had just won a Best Newcomer award at an overseas film festival last year. He used to frequently drive Qingcheng's husband, Fang Da, here. He was a driver; a driver's job was simply to drive, his eyes were only for seeing the road, nothing else. This was the rule Fang Da had set for him on his first day of work.

Qingcheng wore a short, strapless dress that barely covered her knees, revealing a diamond-encrusted crystal necklace on her fair, delicate skin—a birthday gift from her husband the previous week. Long Xiaoqi thought the necklace suited Qingcheng perfectly, making her already radiant beauty even more elegant and glamorous. But he didn't say it, nor did he need to. Everyone who had seen Qingcheng understood that Qingcheng was indeed Qingcheng, just like her name, enough to captivate any man's heart.

Perhaps only Fang Da was an exception.

This was September of the second year after Qingcheng married into the Fang family. September was the season for falconry in Long Xiaoqi's hometown. Every year at this time, the prey was at its fattest, rabbits like cattle and sheep with plenty of fat, as full as a woman's breasts. Before joining the army, Long Xiaoqi also had a falcon, which he had trained so well that all the falconers in the village were envious.

Qingcheng's breathing was rapid. Although she didn't open her eyes, one could tell how sad she was from her heaving chest. The air was filled with the chill of autumn, and fine bumps could be seen on Qingcheng's bare arms. Her legs were habitually crooked to one side, and there was a deep red bruise on her fair and smooth calf. Long Xiaoqi's gaze lingered on her rapidly heaving chest for a few seconds before guiltily looking away. He leaned over Qingcheng's body and closed the car door.

He had been driving for the Fang family for five years, starting in his first year after leaving the military. He wasn't talkative, never had been, and Fang Da was pleased with that, so he didn't hide anything from him. Sometimes, he would even be sent to pick up all sorts of women to Fang Da's villa in the suburbs. Fang Da was a native of Beijing, from a family with a long history in government. If he hadn't gone into business, he would certainly be a minor official in Beijing by now.

His ex-wife was quite ordinary-looking, with a round face, short legs, and a slightly protruding belly. However, she was of noble birth; in the past, she would probably have been called Princess Mu. That woman was very promiscuous, constantly changing partners. She always carried condoms in her bag when she went out, and she didn't hide it from Long Xiaoqi. If she ran out, she would even ask him to buy some.

Fang Da couldn't control her, nor dared to, so he turned a blind eye. However, the woman brought huge profits to his company, causing his assets to multiply several times in just three years, making him one of the real estate giants in Beijing. Later, the woman met a painter and initiated a divorce, which is how Fang Da married Qingcheng.

Long Xiaoqi first saw Qingcheng at the gate of Beijing Normal University, where he stood frozen for several seconds. Qingcheng wore a pale yellow dress, her shoulder-length hair styled in a student-like style, looking as clean as if she had stepped out of a painting.

He drove them out to eat, watch movies, and drink coffee, even taking Fang Da's men to eliminate the other men around Qingcheng, and then drove her into Fang Da's home. That night, Qingcheng didn't go home. Long Xiaoqi could hear her screams and cries; the projection on the window resembled a shadow play, depicting an eagle hunting its prey. At that moment, he leaned against the hood of the car, carrying a bucket of water, wanting to rush in and pull that clean woman out. At that time, Qingcheng was like a blank sheet of paper, upon which Fang Da was painting.

In the end, he didn't move, watching the silhouette of her being stripped naked, watching her full breasts project their rounded, beautiful lines, watching the figure fall. He felt a sense of guilt then, feeling he had let Qingcheng down.

That night, the light in that room never went out, and all sorts of sounds came from inside: crying, whispers, sobs and pleas for mercy, and intermittent but continuous thumping sounds, tormenting him all night. Qingcheng didn't go out the next day, nor the third. When Long Xiaoqi saw her, Qingcheng was exactly the same as before he came in, showing no signs of change. She stood on the steps combing her hair, still as ethereal as a fairy, and said, "Good morning!" Long Xiaoqi wasn't there for the wedding; he had gone back to his hometown. He heard the wedding was very grand, that a TV cameraman was hired to film it, that Qingcheng was stunning that day, and that her relatives all said she was blessed.

Qingcheng never called him by his name. At first, she would just say where she was going, timidly, as if pleading. Later, she would still tell him where she was going, then open the door and get in herself. Later still, she would say where she was going, then wait for him to open the car door.

Long Xiaoqi lived on the first floor. Above his room was Fang Da and Qingcheng's bedroom. Sometimes, he could hear the sound of chairs being moved, and occasionally, he'd hear Qingcheng let out a long moan or two. Long Xiaoqi would masturbate during these moments. He'd close his eyes and imagine everything happening upstairs. When he ejaculated, the arc he'd seen through the window that night would flash through his mind. That was Qingcheng's breast; even through the glass and curtains, he knew her breasts were naked then.

The bed upstairs was of very good quality; usually, he couldn't hear anything moving on it. But Long Xiaoqi could always tell what was happening by the slightest sound of the springs. His masturbation routine always synchronized with theirs. Later, if there wasn't that slight sound, he would suppress his desire until the next sound appeared.

Sometimes, when Fang Da wasn't at the company, the two would do it in the upstairs living room, even during the day.

Long Xiaoqi's door was always open during the day so he could hear the command immediately and run to the garage to get the car. So the sounds from upstairs could travel down the stairs. First, there was Qingcheng's soft, shy resistance, tinged with a reproachful coquettishness. Then came the sounds of tables and chairs being moved, shoes hitting the floor, followed by soft, intermittent breathing. Later, there were the sounds of intense skin colliding, interspersed with rapid, suppressed nasal sounds.

Initially, they made love very frequently, sometimes for days on end. After more than three months, it gradually stabilized at two or three times a week. By eight months, it was about once or twice a week, continuing until June of the following year.

Fang Da was a man with a very strong sex drive, Long Xiaoqi knew. As his driver and bodyguard, he knew Fang Da's routines like the back of his hand. Even if Fang Da didn't let him drive, he knew he would go to that villa, a place never without women.

Qingcheng knew nothing; sometimes, ignorance is bliss. Almost every day, Qingcheng would come downstairs with a smile and greet him with "Good morning." Qingcheng was changing, subtly. From her original clean and simple demeanor, she had become increasingly generous and elegant. She had also become more particular about her clothing, always coming downstairs fully dressed and made up, no longer combing her hair as she descended. She never wore pajamas downstairs, nor did she ever change her shoes there.

Her attention to detail had reached its peak.

Her body had also undergone subtle changes. If one wasn't paying close attention, one wouldn't notice that her breasts were fuller and higher than before, and that the sway of her hips was more pronounced when she walked. When she wore jeans, one could clearly see how long, straight, and voluptuous her legs were, her thighs and hips taut within the pants, combined with her perfectly proportioned features, exuding a breathtaking charm.

Long Xiaoqi never dared to let his gaze linger on that alluring body for too long. He tried his best to restrain himself and appear indifferent.

The rain that day continued until late at night, and Fang Da still hadn't returned. It was quiet upstairs and downstairs, but the lights stayed on all night.

They had several arguments afterward, all in the bedroom. Their voices were very low, and Long Xiaoqi couldn't hear the content, but each time Qingcheng would come down alone, tears welling in her eyes, her lips tightly pressed together, standing silently at the door. The last time, she took a hammer and smashed the BMW parked in the yard beyond recognition.

Fang Da came home less and less often, sometimes having dinner at home before going out again. Speculation about the actress began to circulate, and newspapers occasionally featured rumors about her. Once, Long Xiaoqi found a pile of shredded newspapers at the door, containing articles about the actress.

Qingcheng started becoming somewhat neurotic, and her temper worsened. Every time Fangda returned, she would smash a cup or two, or break a window or two.

Finally, one day, Qingcheng brought a much older man home. They went upstairs and laughed loudly in the living room. Qingcheng spoke in a very seductive voice, asking the man if her legs were long enough, if her breasts were big enough. She deliberately asked loudly so that Long Xiaoqi downstairs could hear.

He heard her downstairs and also heard Qingcheng inviting the man into the bedroom. He guessed the bedroom door must be open, because Qingcheng's moans were clearer than ever. Qingcheng said, "Feel it, aren't my breasts firm? Aren't my buttocks round? Oh, you're so naughty, why are you touching me here?" He listened, and seemed to hear the sound of hands stroking skin. For some reason, his heart felt heavy, as if a large stone was pressing on it. He even felt a little resentful, resentful that the person he was dragged upstairs wasn't him.

When the man went downstairs, Qingcheng came down to see him off. When she returned, she shouted at his room, "You saw it all, didn't you? Go tell your boss, I have a man now too. His wife cheated on him before, and I cheated on him today too. Ask him if he enjoyed it!" Long Xiaoqi didn't want to say anything; he had a bad feeling, and his heart ached so much he trembled all over.

Fang Da still found out. Secrets that you don't want to keep are always easily discovered.

It was a snowy night. Fang Da grabbed Qingcheng's hair and dragged her into the yard to beat her. There were no screams, no struggles; Qingcheng's face was buried in the snow. Fang Da's leather boots kicked and stomped on her body. The cold air was filled with anger and stubborn resistance; the sound of soul and bones shattering echoed in the night sky. That was the only time Qingcheng went downstairs in her pajamas. Her long legs were exposed in the snow, blending into the snow. Her breasts were exposed in the ice and snow through her torn collar, trembling and swaying under the trampling.

Long Xiaoqi had hoped countless times to see Qingcheng in her pajamas, and that night he did. He even clearly saw her breasts and the underwear beneath her pajamas. He ran over to pull Fang Da away, but was shoved aside. Fang Da snarled viciously, "This is none of your business, get out of my way." He clenched his fists and backed away, because it truly wasn't his concern. He knew his own insignificance, as fragile as Qingcheng's, and perhaps even weaker than her!

Fang Da, having had his fill of beating, stood in the courtyard with his hands on his hips. Qingcheng writhed in the snow, unable to stand, only able to strain her head, her bright eyes like starlight, and said in a voice icy cold, "Now, we're even, let's get a divorce." Fang Da kicked her hard in the forehead: "Bitch! Do you think I'd still want you? When have I ever lacked a woman? Want a divorce? Easy, you'll have to wait until I want one. And all your relatives, get back to Shandong..." Long Xiaoqi helped Qingcheng into the room. It was the first time he had touched Qingcheng's body. He had imagined it, many times, but he had never imagined that a beautiful woman's body could be as cold as ice and as stiff as rock.

Qingcheng lay in bed for a month. During this time, many people came to see her—parents, brothers, relatives, and friends. But not a single person agreed to a divorce. In the small house downstairs, Long Xiaoqi heard countless arguments. Among these voices, Qingcheng's voice seemed so weak, drowned out by the clamor.

Fang Da always smiled and said, "It's my fault. I was too angry and couldn't control myself, so I hit her. I regret it so much now. You can all be my witnesses. I swear to everyone today that I will never hit her again." Qingcheng was isolated from everyone.

One night, Long Xiaoqi heard Qingcheng crying. She cried out, "Why won't you divorce me? Why? I don't want anything, I just want freedom. Let me go! I beg you!" Fang Da's voice was languid: "Why should I do as you wish? Be grateful for your cheating? Why should I let you go? You'll never be able to pay back the money I've spent on you! Letting you go would be a losing proposition for me! I'm going to take good care of you, like raising a cat or a dog. I'll feed you well, don't worry, I won't lack food. Isn't that great! I'll go find my woman, and leave a widow at home." From that day on, Qingcheng began a hunger strike. She wouldn't eat or drink a drop of water, so Fang Da called a doctor to give her IV fluids to keep her alive. Qingcheng kept pulling out the IV until there were no more veins in her wrists, and she couldn't insert the needle anymore. On the fifth day, Fang Da said, "Okay, I agree." He came downstairs, his eyes red, his teeth clenched. Long Xiaoqi saw his face contorted in a rage, veins bulging, as he stood in the middle of the courtyard shouting upstairs, "Let's make an agreement! From today onwards, you'll stay in that room for three years. During these three years, you're not allowed to step downstairs, speak to anyone, or see your family. If you break any of these rules, you can forget about getting a divorce for the rest of your life!" That day marked the 891st day since Long Xiaoqi had seen Qingcheng. From that day on, Fang Da never touched Qingcheng's body again.

He moved next door to Qingcheng's room, installed surveillance cameras, then moved the computer, unplugged the TV signal, removed all the tables and chairs, and even tore down the paintings on the walls, leaving only a lonely bed in the room. Qingcheng's body was already very weak, yet she smiled as she watched the things in the room disappear one by one.

From that day on, people often saw a young woman standing by the window, gazing into the distance. She always kept her lips pursed, as quiet as a statue, yet her gaze was so affectionate, as if she were longing for her departing husband.

Long Xiaoqi brought her food; this was the only time he had a chance to go upstairs, to catch a glimpse of Qingcheng, and then quietly clean up the dishes. Qingcheng seemed very lonely, and sometimes he couldn't help but want to talk to her, or even just say "good morning." But he always held back, only managing a smile and a nod.

Fang Da didn't come back often, but every time he did, he brought a woman, and they would make love in the room next to Qingcheng's. They would leave the door open, making loud noises, their unrestrained moans echoing throughout the building. Later, he basically stopped sleeping at home, only bringing women back to make love. After they were done, they would knock on Qingcheng's door and leave. Long Xiaoqi could hear it every time, and every time he suppressed the urge to masturbate. He had developed a habit; without the sounds of the bed, even the pleasure of masturbation seemed to diminish considerably.

In the fourth month, one day Long Xiaoqi suddenly heard Fang Da shouting upstairs. He laughed loudly, "Look, come and see! My wife can't hold back anymore! She's masturbating... Look how lewd she is! This slut..." Then Qingcheng cried out, her voice weak and feeble, filled with fear and anger.

Long Xiaoqi didn't go upstairs; of course, he couldn't. A few months ago, the thought of Qingcheng's behavior would have made his penis erect, and he would have masturbated until he was exhausted. But now, he felt no desire at all, and his heart was filled with sadness.

When he went upstairs to deliver food, Qingcheng began to avoid his gaze. Her face was filled with shame, and she barely dared to lift her head. Long Xiaoqi wanted to comfort her, but Qingcheng lay beside him, her eyes closed, looking very tired.

The car door was still open, and it was raining outside, but Qingcheng didn't seem to want to close it. After coming out of that villa, she seemed to have lost her soul, her lips tightly pressed together, her face pale, and her whole body trembling.

Long Xiaoqi could guess why. A famous actor lived in the villa; he had just won the Best Newcomer Award at an overseas film festival last year. He used to frequently bring Qingcheng's husband, Fang Da, here. He was a driver; a driver's job was simply to drive, his eyes were only for seeing the road, nothing else. This was the rule Fang Da set for him on his first day of work.

Qingcheng wore a short, strapless dress that barely covered her knees. Her fair, delicate skin was exposed, adorned with a diamond-encrusted crystal necklace—a birthday gift from her husband the previous week. Long Xiaoqi thought the necklace suited Qingcheng perfectly, making her already radiant beauty even more elegant and glamorous. However, he didn't say anything, nor did he need to. Everyone who had seen Qingcheng understood that she was simply stunning, just like her name suggested—capable of captivating any man's heart.

Perhaps only Fang Da was an exception.

This was September of the second year since Qingcheng married into the Fang family. September is falconry season in Long Xiaoqi's hometown. Every year at this time, the prey is at its fattest, and rabbits are like cattle and sheep with plenty of fat, as full as a woman's breasts. Before joining the army, Long Xiaoqi also had a falcon, which he trained so well that all the falconers in the village were envious.

Qingcheng's breathing was rapid. Although her eyes were closed, her heaving chest revealed her deep sorrow. The air was thick with the chill of autumn, and fine bumps were visible on Qingcheng's bare arms. Her legs were habitually hunched to one side, revealing a deep red bruise on her smooth, white calf. Long Xiaoqi's gaze lingered on her rapidly rising and falling chest for a few seconds before guiltily averting it. He leaned over Qingcheng and closed the car door.

He had been driving for the Fang family for five years, starting in his first year after leaving the military. He was a man of few words, a trait Fang Da appreciated, so he didn't hide anything from him. Sometimes, he would even be sent to pick up all sorts of women to Fang Da's villa in the suburbs. Fang Da was a native of Beijing, from a family with a long history of officialdom. If he hadn't gone into business, he would certainly be a minor official in Beijing by now. His

ex-wife was quite ordinary-looking, with a round face, short legs, and a slightly protruding belly. Her status was quite noble; in the past, she would probably have been called Princess Mu. That woman, however, was very promiscuous, constantly juggling men. She always carried condoms in her bag, making no attempt to hide it from Long Xiaoqi. If she ran out, she would even ask him to buy more.

Fang Da couldn't control her, nor dared to, so he turned a blind eye. However, the woman brought enormous profits to his company, multiplying his assets several times over in just three years, making him one of the top real estate tycoons in Beijing. Later, the woman met a painter and initiated a divorce, which is how Fang Da married Qingcheng.

Long Xiaoqi first saw Qingcheng at the gate of Beijing Normal University, where he stood frozen for several seconds. Qingcheng wore a pale yellow dress, her shoulder-length hair styled in a student-like style, looking as clean as if she had stepped out of a painting.

He drove them to meals, movies, and coffee, even taking Fang Da's men to clear away the other men around Qingcheng, and then taking her to Fang Da's home. That night, Qingcheng didn't go home. Long Xiaoqi could hear her screams and cries. The projection on the window looked like a shadow play, depicting an eagle hunting its prey. He was leaning against the hood of the car, carrying a bucket of water, wanting to rush in and pull that clean woman out. At that time, Qingcheng was like a blank sheet of paper, on which Fang Da was painting.

In the end, he didn't move, watching the silhouette being stripped naked, watching the full breasts project their rounded, beautiful lines, watching the figure fall. He felt guilty then, feeling he had let Qingcheng down.

That night, the light in that room stayed on all night, and all sorts of sounds came from inside: crying, whispers, sobbing pleas for mercy, and intermittent but continuous thumping sounds, tormenting him all night. Qingcheng didn't go out the next day, nor the third day. When Long Xiaoqi saw her, Qingcheng was exactly the same as before he came in, showing no signs of change. She stood on the steps combing her hair, still as ethereal as a fairy, and said, "Good morning!" Long Xiaoqi wasn't there for the wedding; he'd gone back to his hometown. He'd heard the wedding was grand, that a TV cameraman had been hired, that Qingcheng had stunned everyone that day, and that her relatives all said she was blessed.

Qingcheng never called him by his name. At first, she'd just say where she was going, timidly, as if pleading. Later, she'd tell him where she was going, then open the door and get in herself. Even later, she'd still say where she was going, then wait for him to open the car door.

Long Xiaoqi lived on the first floor. Above his room was Fang Da and Qingcheng's bedroom. Sometimes, he could hear the sound of chairs being moved upstairs, and occasionally, he'd hear Qingcheng let out a long moan or two. Long Xiaoqi would masturbate at these times, closing his eyes and imagining everything happening upstairs. When he ejaculated, the arc he'd seen through the window that night would flash through his mind. That was Qingcheng's breast; even through the glass and curtains, he knew her breasts were naked then.

The bed upstairs was of very good quality; usually, you couldn't hear anything moving on it. However, Long Xiaoqi could always tell what was happening by the slightest creaking of the springs. His masturbation routine always synchronized with theirs. Later, if there wasn't that slight sound, he would suppress his desire until the next sound appeared.

Sometimes, when Fang Da wasn't at the company, the two of them would do it in the upstairs living room, even during the day.

Long Xiaoqi's door was always open during the day so he could hear the command immediately and run to the garage to get his car. So the sounds from upstairs could travel down the stairs: first, Qingcheng's soft, shy resistance, tinged with a reproachful coquettishness; then the sounds of moving tables and chairs, the sound of shoes hitting the floor; then, soft, intermittent breathing. Later, there were the sounds of intense skin-to-skin contact, interspersed with rapid, suppressed nasal sounds. At

first, they made love very frequently, sometimes for several days in a row. After more than three months, it gradually stabilized at two or three times a week; by eight months, it was about once or twice a week, continuing until June of the following year.

Fang Da was a man with a very strong sex drive, Long Xiaoqi knew that. As his driver and bodyguard, he knew Fang Da's routines like the back of his hand. Even if Fang Da didn't let him drive, he knew he would go to that villa, a place never without women.

Qingcheng knew nothing; sometimes ignorance is bliss. Almost every day, Qingcheng would come downstairs with a smile and say "Good morning" to him. Qingcheng was changing, subtly. From her original clean and simple self, she became increasingly generous and elegant, and more particular about her clothing. She always came downstairs fully dressed and made up, no longer combing her hair as she went. She never wore pajamas downstairs, or even changed her shoes there. Her

attention to detail was impeccable.

Her body also underwent subtle changes; unless one paid close attention, one wouldn't notice that her breasts were fuller and higher than before, and the swaying of her hips when she walked was more pronounced. When she wore jeans, you could clearly see how long and slender her legs were—straight and full-figured, her thighs and hips taut inside the jeans, combined with her perfectly proportioned features, exuding a breathtaking allure.

Long Xiaoqi never dared to let his gaze linger on that seductive body for too long; he tried his best to restrain himself and appear indifferent.

The rain that day continued until late at night, and Fang Da didn't return. It was quiet upstairs and downstairs, but the lights stayed on all night.

Afterwards, they had several arguments, all in the bedroom. Their voices were very low, and Long Xiaoqi couldn't hear the content of the arguments, but each time, Qingcheng would come down alone, tears welling in her eyes, her lips tightly pressed together, standing silently at the door. The last time, she took a hammer and smashed the BMW parked in the yard beyond recognition.

Fang Da came home less and less often, sometimes having dinner at home before going out again. Speculation about the actress began to circulate, and newspapers occasionally featured rumors about her. Once, Long Xiaoqi found a pile of torn-up newspapers at the door, containing news about the actress.

Qingcheng started becoming somewhat neurotic, and her temper worsened. Every time Fangda returned, she would smash a cup or two, or break a window or two.

Finally, one day, Qingcheng brought a much older man home. They went upstairs and laughed loudly in the living room. Qingcheng spoke in a very seductive voice, asking the man if her legs were long enough, if her breasts were big enough. She deliberately asked loudly so that Long Xiaoqi downstairs could hear.

He heard her downstairs and also heard Qingcheng inviting the man into the bedroom. He guessed the bedroom door must be open, because Qingcheng's moans were clearer than ever. Qingcheng said, "Feel it, aren't my breasts firm? Aren't my buttocks round? Oh, you're so naughty, why are you touching me here?" He listened, and seemed to hear the sound of hands stroking skin. For some reason, his heart felt heavy, as if a large stone was pressing on it. He even felt a little resentful, resentful that the person he was dragged upstairs wasn't him.

When the man went downstairs, Qingcheng came down to see him off. When she returned, she shouted towards his room, "You saw it all, didn't you? Go tell your boss, I have a man now too. His wife cheated on him before, and I cheated on him today too. Ask him if he enjoyed it!" Long Xiaoqi didn't want to say anything; he had a bad feeling, and his heart ached so much he trembled all over.

Fang Da found out anyway; secrets that aren't kept are always easily discovered.

It was a snowy night. Fang Da grabbed Qingcheng by the hair and dragged her into the yard, beating her mercilessly. There were no screams, no struggles; Qingcheng's face was buried in the snow. Fang Da's leather boots stomped on her, the cold air thick with anger and stubborn resistance, the sound of soul and bones shattering echoing in the night. That was the only time Qingcheng came downstairs in her pajamas. Her long legs were exposed in the snow, blending into it. Her breasts, exposed by the torn collar, trembled and swayed under the trampling.

Long Xiaoqi had hoped countless times to see Qingcheng in her pajamas, and that night he saw it, even clearly seeing her breasts and the underwear beneath. He ran to pull Fang Da away, but was shoved aside. Fang Da snarled viciously, "This is none of your business, get out of my way." He clenched his fists and backed away, because it truly wasn't his concern. He knew his own insignificance, as vulnerable as Qingcheng's fragility, perhaps even weaker than her!

Fang Da, having had his fill, stood in the courtyard with his hands on his hips. Qingcheng writhed in the snow, unable to stand, only managing to keep her head up, her bright eyes like starlight, and said in a voice icy cold, "Now, we're even, let's get a divorce." Fang Da kicked her hard in the forehead: "Bitch! Do you think I'd still want you? When have I ever lacked a woman? Want a divorce? Easy, you'll have to wait until I want one. And all your relatives, get back to Shandong..." Long Xiaoqi helped Qingcheng into the room. It was the first time he had touched Qingcheng's body. He had imagined it, many times, but he had never imagined that a beautiful woman's body could be as cold as ice and as stiff as rock.

Qingcheng lay in bed for a month. During this time, many people visited her—parents, brothers, relatives, and friends. But not a single person agreed to a divorce. In the small house downstairs, Long Xiaoqi heard countless arguments, and in these voices, Qingcheng's voice seemed so weak, drowned out by the clamor.

Fang Da always smiled and said, "It's my fault. I was too angry and couldn't control myself, so I hit her. I regret it so much now. You can all be my witnesses. I swear to everyone today that I will never hit her again." Qingcheng was isolated from everyone.

One night, Long Xiaoqi heard Qingcheng crying. She cried out, "Why won't you divorce me? Why? I don't want anything, I just want freedom. Let me go! I beg you!" Fang Da's voice was languid: "Why should I do as you wish? Be grateful for your cheating? Why should I let you go? You'll never be able to pay back the money I've spent on you! Letting you go would be a losing proposition for me! I'm going to take good care of you, like raising a cat or a dog. I'll feed you well, don't worry, I won't lack food. Isn't that great! I'll go find my woman, and leave a widow at home." From that day on, Qingcheng began a hunger strike. She wouldn't eat or drink a drop of water, so Fang Da called a doctor to give her IV fluids to keep her alive. Qingcheng kept pulling out the IV until there were no more veins in her wrists, and she couldn't insert the needle anymore. On the fifth day, Fang Da said, "Okay, I agree." He came downstairs, his eyes red, his teeth clenched. Long Xiaoqi saw his face contorted in a rage, veins bulging, as he stood in the middle of the courtyard shouting upstairs, "Let's make an agreement! From today onwards, you'll stay in that room for three years. During these three years, you're not allowed to step downstairs, speak to anyone, or see your family. If you break any of these rules, you can forget about getting a divorce for the rest of your life!" That day marked the 891st day since Long Xiaoqi had seen Qingcheng. From that day on, Fang Da never touched Qingcheng's body again.

He moved next door to Qingcheng's room, installed surveillance cameras, then moved the computer, unplugged the TV signal, removed all the tables and chairs, and even tore down the paintings on the walls, leaving only a lonely bed in the room. Qingcheng's body was already very weak, yet she smiled as she watched the things in the room disappear one by one.

From that day on, people often saw a young woman standing by the window, gazing into the distance. She always kept her lips pursed, as quiet as a statue, yet her gaze was so affectionate, as if she were longing for her departing husband.

Long Xiaoqi brought her food; this was the only time he had a chance to go upstairs, to catch a glimpse of Qingcheng, and then quietly clean up the dishes. Qingcheng seemed very lonely, and sometimes he couldn't help but want to talk to her, or even just say "good morning." But he always held back, only managing a smile and a nod.

Fang Da didn't come back often, but every time he did, he brought a woman, and they would make love in the room next to Qingcheng's. They would leave the door open, making loud noises, their unrestrained moans echoing throughout the building. Later, he basically stopped sleeping at home, only bringing women back to make love. After they were done, they would knock on Qingcheng's door and leave. Long Xiaoqi could hear it every time, and every time he suppressed the urge to masturbate. He had developed a habit; without the sounds of the bed, even the pleasure of masturbation seemed to diminish considerably.

In the fourth month, one day Long Xiaoqi suddenly heard Fang Da shouting upstairs. He laughed loudly, "Look, come and see! My wife can't hold back anymore! She's pleasuring herself... Look how lewd she is! This slut..." Then Qingcheng cried out, her voice weak and feeble, filled with fear and anger.

Long Xiaoqi didn't go upstairs; of course, he couldn't. A few months ago, the thought of Qingcheng's behavior would have given him an erection, and he would have masturbated until he was exhausted. But now, he felt no desire at all, only sadness.

When he went upstairs to deliver food, Qingcheng avoided his gaze. Her face was filled with shame, and she barely dared to lift her head. Long Xiaoqi wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know how. He couldn't speak to her; he could only smile and nod. But now, she wouldn't even look at him, always keeping her head down and turning her back on him.

Long Xiaoqi didn't know how Qingcheng endured each day; he imagined it must be incredibly difficult. He started trying not to watch TV or read at night, but simply lying quietly in bed, imagining what Qingcheng looked like. He felt this was his way of keeping her company; perhaps she didn't know, but it didn't matter.

In the seventh month, one day he was washing his car in the yard, turning on the stereo, when he suddenly saw Qingcheng standing by the window, her face turned to the side, seemingly listening. He turned up the volume and then slowly washed, suddenly feeling comforted, as if he had fulfilled a long-held wish. Looking at Qingcheng listening intently, his eyes suddenly reddened.

He bought a radio, and every day when Fangda wasn't around, he would stand at the bottom of the stairs and listen. He refused to go into the room, afraid that Qingcheng wouldn't be able to hear it.

One day, when he turned on the radio, he suddenly heard two knocks from upstairs, like chopsticks tapping on the door. He went upstairs and saw Qingcheng standing by the door, indeed holding a chopstick in her hand. She was still neatly dressed, still silent. The next day, when he turned on the radio again, he heard two more knocks from upstairs. This continued for several days until one time when he was changing the station, he suddenly heard another knock, this time only once. He adjusted the frequency again, and there were two more knocks from upstairs. He continued adjusting until he got back to the original frequency, and then it was just one knock again.

From that day on, they had their first unspoken understanding: when Qingcheng wanted to change the channel, she would knock twice, and Long Xiaoqi would help her change the channel. Once she found the program she wanted to listen to, she would knock once.

One year and two months later, when Long Xiaoqi brought her food, Qingcheng reached out to take it for the first time. He felt Qingcheng's fingers lightly touch his under the plate. From then on, every time he brought food, their fingers would lightly touch, and then they would casually separate. After returning to his room, Long Xiaoqi would be excited for a long time, putting the finger that had touched Qingcheng in his mouth, as if he were holding Qingcheng's finger in his mouth.

One year, nine months, and thirteen days later, when Long Xiaoqi touched Qingcheng's fingers, he felt something was different from usual. When he went downstairs, he noticed that his fingertips were a little wet. He looked at his hand for a long time. At the time, he didn't know what it meant, but he just felt a strange sensation. He noticed even the slightest difference in Qingcheng, wrote it down, and savored it in bed late at night.

The next day, when Qingcheng saw him, her face was flushed, but she didn't lower her head. In fact, after turning away, she looked back at him again.

Long Xiaoqi felt the dampness on his fingertips once more.

Qingcheng's hands were very white and delicate, and usually very dry. Long Xiaoqi was intimately familiar with the feeling from countless touches. He had imagined those soft fingertips as Qingcheng's palms, her face, her thighs, or her breasts countless times! He would use that hand to caress his penis, his fingertips touching the glans, and his fingers would transform into Qingcheng, writhing and moaning within his body.

He had never thought about Qingcheng's genitals; he even felt that Qingcheng didn't need to have genitals! Qingcheng could make a man ejaculate with any part of her body! Even without touch or moaning, just her gaze, her gaze upon a man's penis, could bring that man to orgasm.

This time, Long Xiaoqi thought of genitals, and his fingers trembled uncontrollably, the trembling spreading from his fingertips throughout his body. He put his fingers in his mouth. His fingertips were wet, and his tongue could clearly taste the slightly salty flavor. He suddenly understood the source of the wetness, and for the first time, he knew the taste of Qingcheng's genitals. It was the taste of a vagina, Qingcheng's!

From that day on, Long Xiaoqi felt that Qingcheng had become his woman.

He developed a new habit. He would use a clean white gauze to wipe away the moisture Qingcheng left on him each time, carefully preserving it. Late at night, he would hold the gauze in his hands and play with it, as if playing with Qingcheng's body. Then he would lean in and smell the faint scent, as if smelling Qingcheng's body. Finally, he would cover his face with Qingcheng's body and masturbate to end the day. He always slept with the white gauze against his chest, sleeping soundly as if embracing his lover.

Qingcheng's gaze would linger on his face each time, neither pausing nor hurried, but the light in her eyes grew brighter and brighter, like a burning flame. Long Xiaoqi bravely met her gaze, and in that brief instant, he felt himself become a flame, roasting Qingcheng's face red. Qingcheng's face was naturally fair, but when she blushed, it became incredibly beautiful!

Long Xiaoqi longed to wink at Qingcheng at that moment, like the flirtatious and playful gestures towards a lover. But he couldn't bear to miss a single moment when their eyes met! He meticulously memorized every movement, every expression, and every glance from Qingcheng. Then he let his gaze follow her until she disappeared behind the door.

Days passed in silence, but the flame burned ever brighter and hotter in that silence.

That winter was exceptionally cold. On the coldest night, Qingcheng gave Long Xiaoqi a special gift.

When she handed him back the empty bowl, Qingcheng suddenly supported it with her other hand, as if worried he might drop it. She had never done this before. In the empty bowl, Long Xiaoqi found a hair. The hair was curly, with a slightly yellowish tip, like a young girl's dyed hair.

That night, Long Xiaoqi didn't sleep a wink. Like a groom on his wedding night, he held the curly hair in his palm, examining it carefully, as if looking at an engagement ring.

Gifts gradually increased, always on a memorable day. Sometimes it was a strand of hair, sometimes a piece of nail clippings. Long Xiaoqi felt that Qingcheng was gradually giving herself to him, like lovers who had longed for each other for a century, completely and utterly giving themselves away.

On New Year's Eve, Fang Da didn't come home. Long Xiaoqi sat on the stairs, spending the long year with a radio. The New Year's bells rang, and the sound of firecrackers drowned out the radio. He suddenly longed to see Qingcheng, to see what she looked like after the New Year. But the door to that room was tightly closed, and there was no sound from inside.

He could no longer resist his desire and opened Fang Da's door.

The surveillance cameras were always on, the lights in the room were always on, and Qingcheng was always on the monitor.

Long Xiaoqi saw a strange scene: Qingcheng lay on the cold floor, peacefully closing her eyes, her ear pressed to the floor as if listening. Her hand, fingers outstretched, gently stroked the floor, like caressing a lover's body.

Long Xiaoqi gritted his teeth, watching the screen blur before his eyes. He struggled to suppress his impulse, preventing himself from rushing into Qingcheng's room. He spent the night in Fangda's bedroom. After Qingcheng fell asleep, he looked through the old images. Qingcheng was always in the images: sitting still, standing by the window, putting on makeup, changing clothes… In a short time, he could see Qingcheng's breasts, her naked body blooming like a flower. Long legs and a slender waist, her beautiful hips swaying gently, reflecting the light like snow.

Qingcheng would masturbate before getting dressed. At that time, she would curl up, tightly clamp her hands between her legs, and let her body slowly writhe until it trembled. She would close her eyes, letting her other hand stretch out in the air, as if trying to grasp something.

Every time Qingcheng finished changing clothes, she would stand at the door for a while. Sometimes, she would open the door, stretch her foot to the threshold, then pull it back, stretch it out again, and pull it back again, head down, repeating this endlessly.

Long Xiaoqi couldn't go into Fangda's bedroom often; he knew the consequences of being discovered. But he would forever remember Qingcheng's body, remember her outstretched hand.

From that day on, before going to bed, Long Xiaoqi would always tap the roof three times with a bamboo stick.

Spring is a season of passion, and this spring was Long Xiaoqi's most passionate and happiest.

He went to Tianjin with Fang Da for six whole days, and he didn't see Qingcheng at all. The first thing he saw when he entered the house after returning was Qingcheng standing by the window. She stood quietly, her expression unchanged, but her gaze remained fixed on his face. Long Xiaoqi couldn't look up at her; Fang Da stood in the yard, hands on his hips, cursing the weather as usual. Long Xiaoqi could only wash the car in the yard, immersing himself in Qingcheng's gaze, washing it again and again, then wiping it carefully. He could feel Qingcheng's gaze, like a flame, slowly melting him.

When he brought dinner in the evening, Fang Da had already left; his nights were always busy. After Qingcheng took the bowl, Long Xiaoqi didn't turn away as usual. He stepped back out of the surveillance range and made a gesture to Qingcheng: he extended his five fingers, letting his palm hover in the air.

Qingcheng saw it, stopped turning around, and quietly looked at him with her head half-turned. She immediately understood the meaning of the gesture, but showed no shyness or timidity, not even a change in expression!

Her gaze slowly and determinedly moved downwards. Finally, it settled on Long Xiaoqi's genitals, right at his crotch. Long Xiaoqi felt it was an implication, or perhaps Qingcheng's encouragement! Like a wife who had been separated from her newlywed husband for a long time, silently conveying her desire.

Long Xiaoqi then did something crazy he had never imagined. He unzipped his pants, took out his penis, and looked at Qingcheng, from her eyes to her chest, from her chest to her legs. Qingcheng showed no expression, but stared intently at his penis. Qingcheng was wearing jeans, the tight fabric stretching across her legs, clearly showing her mons pubis. Long Xiaoqi's penis hardened under Qingcheng's gaze. His hand was slightly cold as he slowly stroked it, his eyes filled with the pilgrim's obsession and the wolf's greed!

There was no surprise, no shame. They were separated by only a short distance, yet those few steps felt like an eternal galaxy, keeping them worlds apart. There was no embrace, no caressing, not even a glance exchanged. Except for the hand that was moving, everything else remained still, all desire flowing within that stillness.

Besides Qingcheng's room, there was no other light. Qingcheng stood in the lamplight, her shadow stretching long on the ground, like a lonely soul pressed against the cold earth.

Apart from heavy breathing, there was no other sound. Long Xiaoqi stood in the shadows, his figure disappearing into the night. Twilight descended, swallowing the entire world, leaving only a sliver of light.

That summer, in a leap month of May. On the last night of May, Long Xiaoqi bought a cake, lit twenty-six candles, and sat in the darkened room waiting for midnight. June 1st was Qingcheng's birthday, and Fangda would be home the next day. When Fangda was home, he couldn't do anything.

As he lit the candles outside Qingcheng's door, the door opened gently, as if Qingcheng already knew he was there. The door opened very slightly, just a crack, and Qingcheng's face was hidden in the gap.

Long Xiaoqi held the cake, standing far away; he couldn't go any further. All day, except to deliver meals, he couldn't enter that room; even going upstairs was forbidden. So, Qingcheng couldn't eat the cake; she could only watch from afar. Through the crack in the door, Qingcheng blew on the distant candles and licked her lips. Long Xiaoqi felt that Qingcheng had suddenly become a child, perhaps because of the imposing door, or perhaps because of the emptiness of the building; they suddenly seemed so small.

Long Xiaoqi picked up some cream with his fingers, held it out to Qingcheng from a distance, then pulled his arm back and put the cream in his own mouth. He saw Qingcheng open her mouth, smile, revealing a row of clean, white teeth.

Then she made a light biting motion. It was a smile Qingcheng hadn't shown in a long time! He continued to repeat his actions until the cake was completely clean. Qingcheng also repeated that light biting motion until tears streamed down her face, past her lips, and onto the ground.

Long Xiaoqi's heart ached unbearably at that moment. He suddenly slammed the cake box to the ground like a madman and sang at the top of his lungs, "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you..."

His voice pierced the night sky, echoing in the silent night.

The door was slowly opened, and in the light, the beautiful Qingcheng, wearing her most beautiful dress, appeared. She slowly slipped the shoulder strap off her shoulder, her smooth shoulders bathed in a halo of light, making her look as ethereal as a fairy. There was no bra inside; her full, round, soft yet firm breasts proudly faced the man before her.

Long Xiaoqi masturbated to her breasts; he rarely had the chance to masturbate to Qingcheng. Although Fang Da was often away from home, Long Xiaoqi couldn't risk it if he wasn't certain. He wasn't afraid of punishment! But he was afraid of not seeing the lonely Qingcheng, afraid that Qingcheng would be even more lonely without him!

Qingcheng looked at the man with affection, her chest thrust high, ashamed of her first erection, like a virgin offering herself to a goddess. Long Xiaoqi struggled to masturbate, his heart filled with sorrow, yet he wanted to ejaculate, to ejaculate for Qingcheng to see.

Suddenly, Qingcheng raised her hand, clenching it in the air as if grasping something, holding it in the void, then slowly stroking it, one stroke at a time.

There was no moon in the sky, not a single star to be seen. In the pitch-black night, in the lonely building, the breasts in the light and the penis in the darkness intertwined to create a lewd scene, melancholic like an old song.

The day Qingcheng walked out of the room, Fang Da wasn't there. Perhaps he didn't want to be. As the morning sunlight streamed into the room, Qingcheng emerged and descended the stairs. Long Xiaoqi was in the courtyard, dressed in a suit, standing in the center, watching Qingcheng's radiant smile.

Qingcheng said, "Good morning." Then tears streamed down her beautiful face, yet she maintained her dignified and reserved smile. Autumn is the season of falling leaves, but Qingcheng blossomed like a flower amidst the falling leaves. "

Good morning," Long Xiaoqi said. He took a tissue from the car and handed it to Qingcheng. He didn't cry; he simply tilted his head back, letting the sunlight shine into his eyes.

That day marked the 1987th day since Long Xiaoqi met Qingcheng.

Qingcheng didn't go anywhere; she sat in the courtyard watching Long Xiaoqi wash the car. Long Xiaoqi washed the car all day.

Neither of them spoke, nor did they need to.

After dinner, Qingcheng sat in his small room, waiting for Fangda to return.

She waited until late at night. Long Xiaoqi said, "Go to sleep. Maybe he won't be back today..." Qingcheng smiled and said, "Okay." She remained seated, like a bride in her bridal chamber. Long Xiaoqi took a clean white gauze handkerchief from a drawer and spread it out on the table. Inside was Qingcheng's body, with hair and nails.

Qingcheng went over to look, stood behind him, and said, "Give these back to me, I'll give you new ones." Her voice was soft and gentle, and then she hugged him from behind. She hugged him tightly, pressing her warm body against his back, her beautiful face against his neck, and said, "I will never go back to that room." Qingcheng's lips were sweet, like dewy nectar. She sat on Long Xiaoqi's lap, light as a flower petal, beneath which were strong tree roots, the petals grinding against the roots, making the hardness even more erect. Her hands, soft as spring branches, gently brushed against his chest. She pulled his hand, letting his large, strong hand slip inside her clothes to grasp her watery breasts.

Long Xiaoqi felt like an eagle pecking at a white rabbit in autumn. He laid the woman on the bed, kneading her like dough, her clothes falling apart in the process, revealing her warm, white buds. Qingcheng gritted her teeth, moaning softly, her eyes fixed on him, her face flushed red, yet she bravely met his gaze. She coiled around him like a snake, her legs wrapped around his waist, her lower abdomen, like lush weeds, teasing his desire. Her long hair, coiled behind her head, fell loose, spreading across the bed, as black as ink, while her body was as white as snow, the contrast between black and white creating a bewitching and alluring beauty, like the bright moon in the night.

"Fuck me, fuck my cunt..." Qingcheng said. Her chest heaved rapidly, her fingers piercing his hair, her head tilted back like a flower begging for rain.

This was the first time Long Xiaoqi had heard such lewd words. He had never imagined such words coming from Qingcheng's mouth. Qingcheng's passion was hotter than the magma within him. He parted her legs, holding her smooth, trembling flesh, carefully examining the rosy clitoris between her thighs. Her two pink, engorged labia were full and plump like clams, with a glistening clitoris glistening with moisture, flowing like a clear spring. He pressed his lips to hers, kissing and licking, coating his mouth and face with the lubricating fluid.

Qingcheng held his head between her legs, moaning long and melodiously. Long Xiaoqi had heard such moans before, but never with the fervor of today! He felt a surge of fluid well up, flowing onto his tongue, warm and salty. He kissed her passionately, her soft belly, her soft breasts, her soft lips… everything about Qingcheng was soft, delicate as a flower, meandering as water. He pressed his leg down on the woman's groans, her bent legs resting on his shoulders, trembling slightly.

His hot penis parted her labia, slowly pushing in, feeling the flesh sink deeper until it touched the soft pubic hair. Qingcheng's mouth was open, her head tilted back, her teeth clenched tightly, her long, snow-white neck stretched out before him. As his penis withdrew, fluid flowed down, from her buttocks to the bed, soaking the area below, which felt cool against his skin.

Long Xiaoqi undulated his body, pounding down like a pile driver, the soft flesh of her buttocks and hard muscles colliding, the 'smack, smack' sounds echoing in the room. His strong body pressed down on the woman, who was like a noodle, until she was twisted and limp. He bent her white legs, grasped her small feet, and put her toes in his mouth. Her toes wriggled in his mouth, her legs kicked, and the woman below trembled, saying no, that it was dirty. He felt that Qingcheng was spotless, clean as a sheet of paper.

Qingcheng's demands were insatiable; she kept saying, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..." Long Xiaoqi fucked her relentlessly, feeling an inexhaustible power within him.

After a frenzy, Qingcheng rolled over onto him, took his penis inside, held his chest, stretched out her fair arms, and slowly moved herself, letting his thick, hard penis thrust in and out of her. Looking down at the man beneath her, she felt he was her refuge, her homeland. Watching him reach out and grasp her breasts, gently pinching her hard nipples, Qingcheng laughed, trembling all over, her legs weak from the itching. The man beneath her, like a bull, thrust forcefully from below, jolting and shaking her, her long hair flying in the air before scattering onto her snow-white body.

That night, the entire building was filled with lust, as if this cold building had always been waiting for this fiery passion, as if autumn had only come to harvest this passion!

At dawn, Fang Da returned, bringing his men, and cornered Qingcheng in the small room downstairs. Amidst Qingcheng's piercing screams, he broke Long Xiaoqi's limbs one by one.

He seemed unperturbed, smiling nonchalantly at the naked Qingcheng on the bed, saying, "Feels good, doesn't it? Did he fuck you well? I knew you couldn't resist, I knew you'd find another man, because you're a slut! Everyone, look, my slutty wife, fucking a dog-like driver, come and see." Having laughed enough, he pulled up a stool, sat down, and looked at Qingcheng, who had forgotten to put on her clothes, saying maliciously, "Why didn't you endure it a little longer? Don't forget you're still my wife! We're not divorced yet. Tell me, you've cheated on me again, should I, or can I, forgive you?" "I won't make things difficult for you. It'll be the same as before. Go back upstairs now and stay there for three more years. Then come back and ask me for a divorce..." Qingcheng went mad.

That dawn, she lay naked in the courtyard, wailing, her voice as mournful as a cuckoo's cry of blood.

Qingcheng was sent to a mental hospital. Her relatives were all there that day. Some of them still lived in Fangda's house, some still spent Fangda's money, and some even worked at Fangda's company. They watched as Qingcheng was dragged into the ambulance, listening to her repeatedly cry out, "I don't want to go to that room, I don't want to go to that room..." Long Xiaoqi was carried away by his fellow villagers. He seemed oblivious to the pain, only murmuring repeatedly, "Why didn't I wait? If only I had endured it that day, if only I had endured it that day..." ※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※【Ending 1】After

three months of recuperation, the night Long Xiaoqi could walk again, he climbed into the courtyard etched into his memory and, using Qingcheng's clothes, hanged Fang Da. Then, he disappeared from the capital.

Qingcheng underwent seven years of treatment, still unable to speak other words, still repeating the same phrases every day. Only, she became quiet, no longer making a fuss, but when a nurse passed by, she would suddenly ask,

"Where's Long Xiaoqi? Isn't he coming to marry me?" Outside the hospital wall, there was a thatched hut. Inside lived a beggar with no face, nose, or ears, terrifying like a ghost. Only his eyes were intact. No one knew where he came from or when he arrived. He stubbornly clung to the hut, refusing to leave no matter how hard they tried to shoo him away.

There was a hole in the hospital wall. Looking through the hole, one could see the hospital lawn, where patients often strolled.

Sometimes, one could also see Qingcheng. (The End) ※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※【Ending Two】

After three months of recuperation, on the night Long Xiaoqi could walk again, he climbed into the courtyard etched in his memory and strangled Fang Da with Qingcheng's clothes.

Under the Fang family's intervention, the trial of Fang Da's murder was swift and secretive. The murderer, Long Xiaoqi, was sentenced to death for premeditated murder, with no right of appeal. From the opening of the trial to the execution by firing squad, only seven days had passed. The villagers buried him in the wasteland behind the village, where he used to fly hawks.

On the day Long Xiaoqi was executed, Beijing experienced an unusually heavy rain, causing several major traffic accidents. At the same time, a female patient named Qingcheng went missing from a mental hospital. Her family, understanding and forgiving, did not pursue the hospital's responsibility, only placing a missing person notice in the newspaper. The photo in the notice was taken six years earlier; through the blurry ink, one could vaguely see the missing person smiling sweetly.

Years later, urbanization extended to Long Xiaoqi's hometown, and the wasteland behind the village was sold to developers for housing construction. When the construction team dug up an abandoned grave, they found two skeletons inside. One was tall, with broken limbs; the other, smaller in stature, tightly embraced the taller skeleton, never to be separated again. When the construction workers tried to move the two skeletons, they instantly turned to dust.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/135174.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=135174&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : Female doctor on night shift

Next Page : innocent wife

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Alluring

comment Open a new window to view comments