Me and My Women [1-8]

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

(Preface)
My surname is Lu, and my given name is Suo. I never imagined that my father, who only attended a private school for a year before being sent to a free-range household, would give me such a resounding name. At first, I didn't know either. It wasn't until I went to university and saw Rousseau's *Confessions* in the library that I felt a surge of gratitude towards my father.
That old Frenchman Rousseau, whom I absolutely admire, wrote an immortal masterpiece that left the masses bewildered in a time of intense indignation and rampant hypocrisy, debauchery, and petty-bourgeois sentimentality. Today, China is also an era where hypocrisy, debauchery, and petty-bourgeois sentimentality are becoming increasingly prevalent. Perhaps I could also imitate Rousseau's shameless and sincere manner and write about my more than twenty years of licentious life, using this recollection to lay bare my soul and body—having slept with countless women—before the world could see me naked.
Finally, I want to see who, after reading this, dares to stand up and loudly proclaim to me: I am far more honest, loyal, and noble than you, you despicable and lewd wretch! The day before my seventeenth birthday, I was like the coarse cloth jacket my mother had personally sewn for me—a brand new virgin, untouched by the world.
I had never seen a woman's naked body, never kissed a woman, never even held a woman's hand. But on my seventeenth birthday, my virginity was stolen by the lust of a Japanese woman. That day was New Year's Day, and also my first birthday at university. Shin-chan, eight years older than me, from a farm owner's family in Hokkaido, Japan, was a transfer student in our year. Shin-chan, usually humble and unassuming, left a good impression on me—a typical virtuous Japanese woman. But I was wrong. She was actually a harlot, an absolute Japanese witch, utterly impure and unfaithful.
On New Year's Day, our class had a party. Zhen Chunxiu, who had a few drinks, asked me to dance. In the dim light and to the soft music, she told me in broken Chinese that she liked me. My heart pounded like a deer being chased by a hunter.
She started playing with me. She deliberately touched my groin with her thigh, and pressed her large breasts against my still-innocent chest. My crotch was ripped open like a Mongolian yurt.
After midnight, she asked me to take her back to the international student dormitory. Already bewitched, I gladly went.
As soon as we entered the room, she locked the door, pushed me onto the bed, loosened my belt, unzipped my jeans, and pounced on me like a hungry tiger, burying her head in my groin.
Panicked and bewildered, I felt an electric shock-like pain in my groin. I groaned, I screamed, I struggled and twisted, but she paid no heed. Completely out of her mind, she suddenly raised her head, and with lightning speed, shook off her clothes. Naked, she mounted me and began to gallop wildly, uttering strange, lewd sounds that I couldn't understand at all.
Soon, I felt an uncontrollable surge of pleasure, accompanying her frenzy, rushing towards me. My body convulsed, my thighs began to shake uncontrollably, my heart clenched, and I felt my genitals trembling violently inside her. In that instant, I felt as if I had been struck by lightning; my body stiffened, and my mind went blank. Later, I realized that I had ejaculated.
But Zhen Chun Xiu Mei didn't let me go immediately. She dismounted, opened her mouth wide, and began to suck on my genitals again.
Soon, my genitals were once again being teased by Zhen Chun Xiu Mei's mouth. She mounted me again. With her frenzied movements, her large, white breasts swayed incessantly, and I could hear the slapping sounds of them hitting Zhen Chun Xiu Mei's own chest. Suddenly, I felt the frequency of Zhen Chun Xiu Mei's movements increase dramatically. Her head tilted back, her hands gripping my chest tightly, and she screamed before collapsing onto me.
Completely stunned, it took me a long time to realize that my chest was aching. I pushed away the limp Zhen Chun Xiu Mei who was still lying on top of me and saw two scratch marks on my chest, blood slowly seeping out.
That night, the unusually excited Zhen Chun Xiu Mei tormented me with various techniques, almost all night long. I was covered in blood from her scratches. The next day, I lay naked on Zhen Chun Xiu Mei's bed, unconscious for an entire day.
My first woman had barged into my life so unexpectedly, and with such ferocity. My sexual relationship with Zhen Chun Xiu Mei lasted for a year, until she returned to her country at the end of my sophomore year.
During that year, this Japanese witch trained me into a master in bed. I mastered almost every sexual position and technique. The most difficult part was that in the four months leading up to Zhen Chunxiu's departure, I had learned to control the timing of my ejaculation with ease, and each time I could reach orgasm with her, singing ecstatically.
During this time, I noticed some obvious changes in my body. My thighs, my chest, and my arms grew a thick layer of fine hair. My genitals, which used to be sparse with only a few strands like withered grass on a sand dune, suddenly became a dense forest. The most obvious change was in my cheeks. The fair and tender boy I once was began to slowly disappear from my face. A thick beard, piercing through my once smooth and delicate skin, grew unstoppably. I grew six centimeters taller, and my slender figure gradually became more robust. Walking on campus, I often felt the strange gazes of girls drifting over me, these gazes like spotlights on a stage, lingering on me.
A caterpillar, unknowingly, had transformed into a colorful butterfly. On my eighteenth birthday, the moment I shaved my thick, fine, shiny black mustache in front of the mirror for the first time, I felt I had truly become a man.
(Part Two)
For six months after Zhen Chunxiu left, I had no women. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. I often had wet dreams.
I could only vent my excess energy on the school sports field every day. I quickly won the championship in the 100-meter dash, long jump, and triple jump at the school sports meet.
Girls started secretly writing me love letters, borrowing books and pop song tapes from me for no reason, basically finding ways to come to my dormitory. But, for some reason, I wasn't interested in any of them. At that time, I had already skipped the process of holding hands and shyly strolling in the hazy night with women. Young girls, like green apples just beginning to bloom, were too tender and too sour in my eyes. I preferred mature women older than me; I preferred to go straight to bed and challenge them.
My second woman appeared in this state of mind.
She was twenty-five years older than me, and three years older than my mother. She was my elective philosophy teacher, specializing in aesthetics.
Her name was Su Yi, and she was very beautiful, looking more than ten years younger than her actual age; you couldn't tell she was already over forty.
Initially, I didn't have any designs on her. Although her voluptuous, alluring figure had kept me awake at night in my dorm room, I knew that if I slept with her, it would be incest. After all, she was my teacher, even if she only taught me for half a semester.
One day, after class, she asked us to write a short essay, with no restrictions on topic or subject matter, about what we considered the most beautiful things or emotions in life. We were to hand it in to her a week later—it was like a midterm exam for the course.
I don't know why, but I immediately thought of sex.
I went to the library and scoured every Chinese and foreign classic I knew of that described sex, making thick notes. A week later, I handed her a five-thousand-word essay titled "On the Beauty of Sex."
I remember the instant she saw the title of my paper; her astonished gaze lingered on me for a good ten seconds. She never imagined that an eighteen-year-old boy would dare to venture into what has been the most forbidden territory in China for thousands of years.
The next afternoon, she came to the campus sports field and found me, shirtless and drenched in sweat, wearing only a pair of sports pants. I felt her burning gaze scanning me. She said she had read my paper, thought it was very good, and wanted to discuss it with me in detail sometime. She asked if I was free that evening, and if I could come to her house for dinner. I happily agreed. She gave me her address and left.
It was March, and this metropolis on the banks of the Yangtze River was already bursting with flowers.
In the afterglow of the setting sun, I rode my old bicycle and easily found Su Yi's house.
After knocking on the door, Su Yi let me into the living room. It was a three-bedroom apartment. Very clean and refreshing. Su Yi gave me a brief tour first. Then, she told me to wash my hands and face and get ready for dinner. It turned out she had already prepared several delicious side dishes and was waiting for me.
I went to the kitchen and saw that there were only two sets of tableware on the table, so I asked Su Yi: "Professor Su, why are there only two of us?"
Su Yi smiled and said to me, "No need to call me 'Teacher Su' all the time, just call me Su Yi."
She then told me that her husband works at a university in the United States and has been gone for almost two years. Her daughter is studying at a university in Beijing.
After hearing this, a thought flashed through my mind: it seems she doesn't just want to discuss my thesis with me; she might want to discuss something else. I had a premonition of what was about to happen. My penis began to swell.
At the dinner table, our conversation naturally started with my thesis.
As Su Yi put food into my bowl, she smiled and asked me how I could have come up with such a topic that only adults write about, and written about it so vividly. Did I have any experience in this area?
My face began to burn, and I didn't know how to answer her. "
Your article is very well written. Sex becomes so beautiful and so alluring in your writing, but I feel you are still a bit too bold. I'm thinking of you, but you'd better submit another paper on a different topic. I can give you another ten days."
Su Yi said this while smiling and staring at me the whole time.
Whether intentionally or unintentionally, I felt Su Yi's leg gently brush against me under the table. I didn't pull away, and I felt Su Yi's leg didn't move away either, but instead pressed even closer to mine. Through my thin trousers, I could feel the warmth of Su Yi's bare legs, clad in a skirt.
Neither of us spoke, each eating in silence.
It seemed like a long time had passed before Su Yi's legs finally moved slightly, but quickly moved again. This time, both legs clamped down on my calves, gently applying pressure. I felt as if two vines, or two snakes, were slowly crawling up my calves.
My face burned, and my lower body began to swell terribly. I started breathing heavily, put down my chopsticks, and softly called out, "Teacher Su."
Su Yi also put down her chopsticks. She reached out and grabbed my hand tightly, whispering, "Don't call me teacher. Call me Su Yi."
Then, she took my hand and kissed it.
As she kissed me, she said, "Rousseau, you described sex so beautifully. I want to experience the kind of feeling you described.
Don't refuse me, don't refuse me."
Su Yi had already stood up, wrapped her arms around me from behind, leaned over, and started kissing me.
That night, I didn't go back to school. On Su Yi's bed, I used all the skills I had learned from Zhen Chunxiu. With a towel in her mouth, Su Yi, who dared not scream, was driven to the brink of ecstasy by me all night, until we finally fell asleep exhausted around 3 a.m.
This was the oldest woman I had ever slept with, and the only time I felt guilty about sex. Because I had committed incest with a woman who could easily be my mother—my teacher. From that day on, Su Yi began to play the roles of lover, wife, sister, and even mother in my life. I also went to her house every few days. Every time I went, we would make love in bed until late at night.
One weekend, Su Yi asked me to go shopping with her. On the way, Su Yi encountered a familiar woman. The woman exclaimed dramatically, "Oh my! Isn't this Su Yi? You've become even more beautiful in just a few days! Your complexion is so good, how do you maintain it? Tell me!"
At that time, I didn't know about the concept of "yin-yang replenishment." However, I did notice that, like parched land finally sprouting vibrant green after a few spring rains, Su Yi was much more radiant and youthful than she had been a few months ago, like a newlywed woman exuding alluring charm.
However, I gradually felt my body starting to falter. At only eighteen years old, although my body was basically fully developed, besides dealing with a heavy workload of schoolwork and student council duties, I also had to engage in strenuous training for over two hours every afternoon on the school's sports field or gymnasium. Then, in the evenings, I would spend time making love with Su Yi until late at night. Even the strongest man would eventually give out.
For over two weeks, Su Yi invited me to her house several times, but I always declined, citing my busy schedule.
One evening, I was pushing my bicycle, chatting and laughing with a few girls who usually liked to be affectionate with me, on my way to the library to study. On the way, I ran into Su Yi. She called me over. I told the other girls to go first and save me a seat, and Su Yi and I stood under the sycamore tree by the roadside and chatted for a while.
Su Yi asked me if I didn't like being with her anymore.
I said no. She then
asked if I was in a relationship.
I smiled faintly, watching the girls' backs as they walked away, and replied: "These girls aren't worthy of my affection."
In the twilight, I felt Su Yi let out a long sigh of relief.
She then asked me why I didn't want to go to her house. I lowered my head and thought for a while before looking up and saying to her: "I feel a little tired, and I often feel sleepy in class. I want to rest for a few days."
Su Yi immediately said to me with great concern: "It's all my fault. After you finish studying tonight, come to my house. I've made you some cordyceps and turtle soup to help you recover."
(Part 3)
It was just before 10 p.m. when I left the library and rode my bicycle directly to Su Yi's house.
It was already June, and the nights in this metropolis in Jiangnan were quite hot. Su Yi, dressed up carefully, wore a light pink silk slip dress, revealing her fair skin, and opened the door for me.
She took my bag and told me to take a shower first. When I came out of the bathroom, she had already placed a bowl of cordyceps and soft-shelled turtle soup on the coffee table in the living room.
I didn't really want to drink it, but she forced me. After I finished drinking it, she told me to go into the bedroom, lie down, and take off my pants.
I said I didn't want to have sex tonight, I was too tired. Su Yi smiled at me and said she was going to massage me.
After several days of intense training, my thighs were indeed very sore. Su Yi's ten fingers pressed on them, and I felt unbearable pain, so I couldn't help but cry out.
Su Yi complained that I didn't know how to take care of myself while continuing to gently massage me until I drifted off to sleep.
That night, I spent the first time with Su Yi, but we didn't have sex.
This relationship with Su Yi didn't last long; in fact, it ended after her daughter, Ya Nan, my third woman, returned from Beijing for summer vacation.
Ya Nan was half a year older than me and started university the same year, studying journalism. However, she went to a university in Beijing. I met her the night after she returned from Beijing for summer vacation.
Originally, I wanted to go back to my hometown in northern Shaanxi during the summer vacation, back to the Loess Plateau where I was born and raised, to see my father still herding sheep and my mother spinning yarn under the dim oil lamp.
However, Su Yi found me a job, helping her and another nationally renowned aesthetics professor organize academic materials. So, I stayed.
Ya Nan was almost a carbon copy of Su Yi, a real beauty. Only, compared to Su Yi, she was more youthful, brighter, more lively, and more energetic.
Although Ya Nan looked very much like her mother, her personality was completely different.
Su Yi, in general, seemed like a typical middle-aged female intellectual. Quiet, dignified, virtuous, and somewhat introverted. The passion she displayed in bed at night was carefully concealed during the day. When I walked with her, those who knew me knew I was her student, while those who didn't might have thought I was her brother or some other relative, but they would never have imagined that we were lovers.
Ya Nan, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Although she possessed a body of exceptional beauty, she had the fiery personality of a boy. No wonder her name was Ya Nan (meaning "elegant man").
The night we met, during dinner, Ya Nan asked Su Yi, "Mom, who's older, me or your eldest disciple?"
Su Yi told Ya Nan she was six months older than me. Upon hearing this, Ya Nan immediately nudged me excitedly with her chopsticks and said, "Call me 'sister,' you hear me?"
I glanced up at her and continued eating. Seeing that I ignored her, Ya Nan simply put down her chopsticks, grabbed my ear, and laughed loudly, "Are you going to call me or not?" "
Okay, okay, crazy girl, I'll call you 'sister,' alright?"
My ear was really hurting from her grip.
Su Yi, seeing my grimacing expression, felt a pang of sympathy. She said to Ya Nan, "Going crazy right after meeting you, so frivolous."
When the innocent Ya Nan let go of me, she kicked me under the table and said, "Hey, how did you manage to get my mom to protect you like this? She's never been this good to me. Why don't you just become her godson?"
She meant no harm, but I took it to heart. My face flushed red, and I sensed Su Yi beside me was also a little uncomfortable.
Because Ya Nan was back, Su Yi and I would have very few opportunities to make love. But for me, it was a good thing. I could take the opportunity to rest and recuperate, and use the time I spent organizing materials to read more books in the school library. However, this was somewhat unpleasant for Su Yi. When I was little, I often heard adults say that women are like wolves at thirty and tigers at forty, but I didn't understand what that meant until I slept with Su Yi. Sometimes when I went to Su Yi's house for dinner, seeing her hungry gaze made me feel terrible. I really wanted to take her to bed and give her a good time.
Finally, one night, Ya Nan went to see a movie with her high school classmate. As soon as Ya Nan left, Su Yi snatched the chopsticks from my hand, pulled me, who was still trying to finish eating, and led me into her bedroom.
I didn't dare take my pants off completely, afraid Ya Nan would come back. In a hurry, as soon as Su Yi finished her orgasm, I quickly pulled up my pants and went to the bathroom without ejaculating.
That was the last time I had sex with Su Yi.
Ya Nan had met her high school classmates a few times, but once the novelty wore off, she started pestering me to go swimming and play tennis with her every few days. Swimming and tennis were taught to me by Zhen Chun Xiu Mei when she was still around. Looking back now, although this Japanese witch took my virginity so suddenly, she really did teach me a lot, not just about sex.
The school gymnasium wasn't crowded during summer vacation. Usually, it started at three o'clock in the afternoon. Ya Nan and I would play tennis for two hours first, and occasionally Su Yi would come to cheer us on. After playing tennis, we would go swimming. At this time, in the pool, I was often flanked by Su Yi and Ya Nan, a beautiful mother and daughter.
One day, Ya Nan leaned against the edge of the swimming pool and jokingly asked me, "Hey little brother, I've been back for so many days, why haven't I seen your girlfriend?" "Hidden away?"
I shook the water off my head and laughed, "No. What girl would like me?" "
Really?
" Ya Nan seemed a little incredulous.
"I'd be a dog if I lied to you."
I replied.
"Those pretty girls from my high school saw you at my house the other day and they all fell for you. Want me to introduce you?"
Ya Nan said with a smile. "
Just those few? Pfft! Save your introductions for others."
I looked disdainful. "
Hey, who do you think you are? You don't even like those pretty girls, what kind do you like?"
Ya Nan got a little impatient with me. "
Like you…like you."
I was going to say I like someone like your mom, but I changed the words. "
Are you kidding me? Like me? I'm your sister, if you dare mess around, my mom will teach you a lesson!"
Ya Nan said, but her face flushed. "
I'm not talking to you anymore."
To conceal her inner emotions, Ya Nan turned and swam away.
From that conversation onward, Ya Nan stopped calling me "brother" and started calling me Rousseau directly.
4 Perhaps I was destined to be involved in this romantic affair.
Su Yi's mother, who was nearly seventy years old and lived in Hangzhou, fell and fractured her leg while walking and was hospitalized.
After receiving the call, Su Yi took the train to Hangzhou that same day.
As soon as Su Yi left, Ya Nan became the mistress of her house.
Early the next morning, she came to my school dormitory and banged on the door. She asked me to go with her to the free market to buy groceries, saying that she was going to have a small party at her house that evening.
Like a male servant, I followed Ya Nan around all day, struggling to cook a few dishes. In the afternoon, I went to the grocery store downstairs, carried up a case of beer, and put it in the refrigerator to chill beforehand.
That evening, Ya Nan's high school classmates, six boys and seven girls, came. At that time, I didn't drink alcohol, and after one beer, my face turned red. Ya Nan did the same. But we were all in high spirits. Everyone sang and recited poems. I, emboldened by the alcohol, recited my poem, "Rhapsody of Eighteen," which I had just written the night before and which now seemed rather sentimental, to them with great emotion.
Lighting eighteen birthday candles
also ignites the joy of our eighteen-year-old youth.
We are now true men!
We are the surging sea, we are the majestic mountains.
We do not hesitate, we do not waver, we will always move forward firmly. At
eighteen, we are bold and daring men.
We have begun to learn to drink beer and smoke cigars,
to savor the bittersweetness of life.
Facing the fading colors of life, sometimes we are also melancholy
, like white clouds gently brushing across our bright and clear hearts.
We love to sing "The Dove" and "O Sole Mio,"
and we love the vibrant, budding love of the girls, which blossoms
in our bright and splendid voices.
We love to talk loudly, to argue and bicker
, to discuss Qin Shi Huang, Emperor Wu of Han, Emperor Gaozu of Tang, Emperor Taizu of Song, Caesar, Alexander the Great, and Bonaparte,
as if telling our girlfriends about our mischievous childhood.
Sometimes we also love to fantasize, dreaming of one day going far away
and leaving behind this noisy, crowded, and rapidly spinning life.
And so, I bid farewell to the champagne-drunk joy of tonight,
and walk into the desert, into a foreign land,
into a place where camel bells have never rung, to sow spring, to sow ideals, to sow our sincere promises at eighteen,
leaving behind a moving and tragic melody, so that the wind castle may tell future generations for a long time. At eighteen, we are
no longer young. Although time has not yet etched lines of pain, hardship, and setbacks
on our smooth foreheads , we have already understood the responsibilities on a man's shoulders, and we have already learned how to silently pour out the burning passion in our hearts to our loved ones with firm and profound eyes. At eighteen, we are true men. We are burning flames. We are not content with the loneliness of this busy and joyful life. We yearn for a life that is both exciting and unrestrained . Let eighteen birthday candles ignite the dreams of our eighteen-year-old youth. We are true men. We can withstand thunder and lightning, we can withstand storms. We are not alone, we are not cowardly, we will always smile and move forward. At eighteen, we are upright men. As soon as I finished reciting, Ya Nan's high school classmates gave me a warm round of applause and cheers. Ya Nan, already with tears in her eyes, suddenly rushed up to me in front of her classmates, wrapped her arms around my neck, and planted a deep, passionate kiss on my lips. Although I had been kissed countless times by Zhen Chun Xiu Mei and countless times by Ya Nan's mother, it had always been clandestine. I had been excited then, but only for physical pleasure; I felt no emotional impact. Now, being kissed so boldly and passionately in public by an eighteen-year-old girl my age, yet far more innocent than me, felt like a ray of brilliant sunshine had pierced my heart. In that instant, I suddenly understood what love and beauty were. I stared blankly at Ya Nan for a long time, finally unable to hold back my tears. My heart cried out: Why are you Su Yi's daughter? Why do you like me? Why have I suddenly fallen in love with you? For the first time, I truly experienced the feeling of loving someone and being loved, and for the first time, I truly felt the excruciating pain of a heart being torn apart. I downed the beer in my glass, opened the door, and ran out. No matter how much Ya Nan cried and screamed behind me, I rushed into the night without looking back. The next morning, Ya Nan came to my dorm to find me while I was still half asleep. I saw that Ya Nan's eyes were swollen. As soon as Ya Nan came in, she asked me: "Is it because I kissed you in public last night and embarrassed you?" I said no. " That means you don't like me. What you said at the swimming pool that day was just to comfort me." Ya Nan stared into my eyes relentlessly and asked me. My heart ached. With tears in my eyes, I shook my head and said: "Ya Nan, I like you, but I can't love you. I can't accept your love either. Why? Why? Tell me!" Ya Nan finally burst into tears. She threw herself into my arms, pounding my chest with her fists while desperately screaming. I stood there stiffly, motionless, letting Ya Nan's pounding and screaming continue. Seeing that I didn't react for a while, Ya Nan suddenly stopped crying. She wiped away her tears and choked out, "Rousseau, remember this, I hate you! I'll hate you for the rest of my life!" Then she pushed open the door and ran away. Four days later, Su Yi returned. She came straight to my dormitory and found me. She asked me what I had done to Ya Nan. I understood what she meant. I told Su Yi that I hadn't touched a single hair on Ya Nan's head. " Then why did she say she hates you, hates you for the rest of her life?" Su Yi continued to ask me. I remained silent for a long time, finally mustering my courage, I looked up at Su Yi and said, "Your daughter fell in love with me, but I rejected her." Su Yi lowered her head after hearing this. I saw tears falling from her face. " Have you also fallen in love with Ya Nan?" I answered her, "Yes. But I can't. Because you are her mother." As I said this, I heard my voice was a little hoarse. Hearing my answer, she suddenly stood up, turned her back to me, and stared blankly out the window, as if speaking to me, or perhaps to herself: "My God! This is truly my retribution!" I saw her shoulders begin to tremble. I went over and reached out to embrace her. But she pushed my hand away, turned around, and walked towards the door. Before leaving, she said to me: "Rousseau, let's end this here. Let's not see each other again." Then she opened the door and left. A few days later, one evening, feeling troubled, I was reading alone in the library when several of Ya Nan's high school classmates rushed in, telling me that Ya Nan's mother had suffered carbon monoxide poisoning while home alone that afternoon and was currently in the hospital undergoing emergency treatment. My head buzzed, and I stood there dumbfounded. It took me a while to come to my senses. We rushed out of the library, ran out of the campus, hailed a taxi, and quickly arrived at the hospital. Su Yi had already been saved. Ya Nan was by her side. Seeing me come in, she gave me an apologetic smile. In a weak voice, she told me she had accidentally forgotten to turn off the gas and advised me not to overthink it. I took Su Yi's cold hand in mine, saying nothing more, just softly calling out through my tears: "Teacher Su." I saw two streams of tears instantly flow down Su Yi's cheeks. Three months later, Su Yi went to America and reunited with her husband. Me and My Women (Part 5) People are just like that; sometimes we don't cherish what we have until we lose it. In the initial days after Su Yi left, I missed her terribly; her image often appeared in my dreams. I don't know what I felt at the time; perhaps it was because I couldn't love and accept Ya Nan's love that I suddenly transferred and entrusted all my emotions to Su Yi, who looked just like her daughter. I vowed that after graduating from university, I would definitely go to America to find her. So, I started intensively studying English. Soon, winter vacation was approaching. I enrolled in an English tutoring class, wrote a short message home to tell my parents I wouldn't be coming back for the New Year, and then plunged into the library. One morning, I was reading in a corner of the library when Ya Nan arrived. It had only been a little over six months since we last met, and I was surprised to find that she had suddenly become much fuller and more mature. Both her demeanor and figure were increasingly resembling her mother, Su Yi. A heart-wrenching pain instantly filled me. She floated over and sat down beside me, softly telling me that she had just gotten off the train that morning. She asked if I could come to her house to help clean. I agreed. Since that time Ya Nan kissed me in public, I had never been to her house again. More than half a year had passed in a flash. Everything in the room was still so familiar.

While I was cleaning, Ya Nan took a shower first. When she came out, I saw her wearing the silk nightgown and cotton slippers that Su Yi often wore, her hair pulled up high. I was stunned; it was as if I saw Su Yi again.
That night, Ya Nan and I both drank a lot. In my drunken stupor, I carried the now alluring Ya Nan to bed. Finally, amidst Ya Nan's painful groans, I beastly forced my penis, which had entered Su Yi's body countless times, through Ya Nan's hymen and deeply penetrated her youthful body.
The next morning, when I woke up from my deep sleep and found myself naked, holding the still-sleeping, equally naked Ya Nan in my arms, in the bed where I had once shared a pillow with her mother, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my stomach. A nausea I had never experienced before surged up.
I pulled my arm out from under Ya Nan's head, jumped out of bed, and ran naked into the bathroom, where I began to vomit violently.
Startled awake, Ya Nan, wearing only one of my long robes, her long hair loose, bare feet, and long, slender legs, came to the bathroom. She gently massaged my back while softly asking what was wrong.
I straightened up, flushed the toilet, went to the sink, rinsed my mouth and washed my face, then smiled at Ya Nan and said, "It's nothing, I drank too much last night, my stomach's a little upset."
Unaware of my inner turmoil, Ya Nan wrapped her arms around my neck, gently kissed me, and said shyly, "I think so too. You were like a madman last night, you scared me to death, and now my lower body still hurts."
Last night, slightly drunk, I subconsciously mistook Ya Nan for her mother, Su Yi, and poured out all the desire I had harbored for Su Yi's body over the past few months onto her daughter.
Many things, once done the first time, often become uncontrollable, especially sexual intercourse.
From that day on, I spent the entire winter break with Ya Nan, inseparable. Sometimes, we wouldn't even leave the house for days, just the two of us, enjoying our intimate moments.
After the initial pain and discomfort of the first few days, Ya Nan quickly experienced pleasure under my gentle touch. Although her performance was still quite immature compared to Zhen Chunxiu and Su Yi, like a budding flower, the unique fragrance of a pure young girl began to intoxicate and captivate me.
It was then that I truly discovered Ya Nan's charm as a pure young girl.
She was slender but not bony, with delicate fingers, beautiful feet, firm yet soft breasts, and smooth, satin-like skin. She had a captivating figure and beautiful face like Su Yi, only lacking Su Yi's passion in bed and possessing a shyness and purity that Su Yi lacked. Especially the way she trembled when she lay in my arms, her fingers touching my body, the clear look in her eyes as she gazed at me tenderly, and the sweet whispers she uttered—these are memories I still cherish.
Through Ya Nan, I experienced the profound sweetness between a man and a woman, beyond the fleeting pleasure of physical intimacy; it was the enduring sweetness born from a deep connection. Later, although I've been with countless women, many of them virgins, I've never felt the same kind of unforgettable tenderness that Ya Nan gave me.
Ya Nan began to change. She shed her usual denim outfits, donned long dresses, and styled her hair in high curls. She, who never wore makeup, began sitting at her mother Su Yi's dressing table, spending an hour or two meticulously grooming herself, no matter how much I urged her. Almost overnight, the fiery, tomboyish Ya Nan underwent a complete 180-degree transformation, suddenly becoming a gentle, submissive lady.
Ya Nan and I fell deeply in love.
But back then, at only eighteen or nineteen, I could never have imagined that beneath the surface of this river of love lay a deep, boundless sea of bitter cold.
In fact, from the very first day I was with Ya Nan, I had already begun to vaguely experience that insomnia that still throbs within my body and soul.
In those days, no matter what Ya Nan and I did, whenever we were together, the image of Su Yi would always haunt me, along with the painful tears I saw on her face at the hospital that day. Especially at night, under the dim streetlights outside the window, as I gazed at Ya Nan, who was asleep with his head on my arm, I often wondered if Su Yi was lying beside me. At those moments, my heart would clench, the pain unbearable. I would curse myself inwardly for my shamelessness, despicableness, and lewdness, while simultaneously shedding tears and kissing Ya Nan's gently moving face as he slept.
I began to hate Zhen Chunxiu, that Japanese witch. It was her lewdness that made me lose my innocence prematurely, causing my incestuous relationship with Su Yi, and ultimately leading me to find myself so unclean and filthy, like a rag, unworthy of Ya Nan's true feelings for me when I finally found the woman I truly loved.
This indescribable pain, intertwined with my love for Ya Nan, grew stronger with time, often shattering and consuming my heart in the dead of night.
Although I usually hid this pain deeply, the observant Ya Nan noticed. Once, I woke up crying from a dream to find Ya Nan wiping my tears with a handkerchief. She didn't ask why, but just cried with me, kissing me and saying, "I miss you, Rousseau, I really miss you. It hurts me so much to see you like this." As she spoke, she pressed my head tightly against her chest, just like her mother Su Yi often did.
In the long winter nights, our two young lives, besides joy and happiness, mostly wept in each other's arms. It seemed we sensed from the very beginning the pain and misfortune that was quietly approaching.
The sweet yet painful time was so fleeting. In the blink of an eye, winter vacation was over.
Having spent over a month together, Ya Nan and I had developed an inseparable bond. The night before I sent Ya Nan back to Beijing, we went to bed early, making love repeatedly while tears streamed down our faces, wishing we could melt into each other's bodies and never leave. Even in our sleep, our bodies remained tightly intertwined.
In this life, no woman will ever make me experience that almost life-or-death tenderness again.
After sending Ya Nan away, I moved back to my school dormitory. Back then, there was no internet. Although we occasionally talked on the phone, the longing between Ya Nan and me was mostly expressed through letters. It was precisely because of the distance and time that Ya Nan and I felt an even deeper love for each other, and cherished every little bit of care we shared. We received two thick letters from each other almost every week.
If we missed one, we would be restless and unable to eat or sleep. In the letters, besides pouring out our longing, talking about our studies, and sharing sweet little things that happened in our lives, we encouraged each other and envisioned our shared desire for a happy and fulfilling future.
Thousands of miles apart, almost every night we lay in our own beds, reading each other's letters over and over, silently weeping, and falling asleep with a heavy heart.
We didn't realize that our tears and heartache
stemmed from a deep sense that our love, our sweetness, our joy, our happiness, our
future , and our shared dreams were all about to vanish, never to return.
Sure enough, the sudden change that followed ruthlessly shattered all of Ya Nan's dreams and hopes. Just as we were beginning to taste the sweetness of love, we plunged into the vast sea of suffering, and more than twenty years have passed without our return.
In the days leading up to the accident, I don't know why, but I was always particularly irritable. A nameless unease tormented me. Whether in the classroom, the library, or the dormitory, I would often sit there blankly, holding a book, but unable to read a single word.
It was a gloomy, rainy evening. I had just sat down in the library when an overwhelming sense of unease washed over me. I closed the book I had just opened, put it in my bag, left the library, and headed towards my dormitory.
As soon as I entered the dormitory building, I heard the dormitory supervisor shouting: "Is anyone home in room 116?" It was Rousseau on the phone.
I rushed over and picked up the receiver. On the other end was Ya Nan, sobbing uncontrollably. In a panic, I loudly asked her what had happened. After a long pause, I heard Ya Nan say, haltingly, "My mother had an accident at her home in Los Angeles this morning. She couldn't be saved and passed away."
I asked what kind of accident it was.
Ya Nan cried and said, "It was carbon monoxide poisoning again."
Hearing this, the words in my hand clattered onto the table. I don't remember what people around me were calling me. Dazed and disoriented, I stumbled out of the dormitory building, without even taking an umbrella, and ran into the pouring rain.
All night, I didn't return to my dorm. Alone, I wandered aimlessly in the still chilly spring rain. Soaked to the bone by the dim streetlights, I stared blankly at my shadow, its lengthening and shortening in the slanting rain and lamplight. It wasn't until dawn that I finally arrived at Su Yi's house, utterly exhausted.
Entering the empty room, I felt as if Su Yi was softly calling my name. Rousseau, Rousseau—the sound was so real. My heart was torn apart by that call. Dazed, I went to the bedroom, picked up the photograph of Su Yi smiling at me, pressed it tightly to my chest, and collapsed weakly onto the bed.
More than ten hours after receiving this devastating news, I finally shed tears and cried out loud.
Eight days later, the day after I was discharged from the hospital from a high fever, I dragged my still weak body to class.
At lunchtime, the class monitor handed me a registered letter from America. Seeing the familiar handwriting on the envelope, my heart pounded, and a glimmer of hope flashed through my mind. But that light was quickly extinguished. Because I saw the date the letter was sent was the very day Su Yi left.
My vision blurred with tears; I had never felt so helpless all of a sudden. I sat alone in the now-empty lecture hall, and after a long while, with trembling hands, I opened Su Yi's letter. Before me lay Su Yi's neat and elegant handwriting, wet with tears. I could
almost hear Su Yi's voice again: "
Rousseau:
By the time you read this letter, I may already be gone. Please forgive my selfishness, cowardice, and cruel farewell.
Ya Nan wrote to me a few days ago, telling me everything." Although I was once your lover and Ya Nan's mother, I know I had no right to stop you from loving each other. You are both young and should have your own happiness and future.
Ya Nan said in her letter that she always sensed an indescribable pain deep within you, and she asked if I knew why.
Although we broke up months ago and are now separated by oceans, I can still feel and even touch that deep pain in your heart. That pain is mine too. The moment we broke up in your dormitory that day, that pain was planted in my heart. I thought that by leaving you, I could escape all of this, but I was wrong. Today I realize that I no longer have the strength and courage to continue enduring this pain that erodes my body and soul day and night. You are a man; you must live on strongly and not let our pain hurt Ya Nan any further. Of the three of us, she is the most innocent.
Forgive me, Rousseau. Although I chose this path, which may have been the worst choice, I do not regret the beautiful times we shared. You let me truly live, to be a woman to my heart's content. I have no regrets, I am satisfied.
After reading this letter, burn it. Treat Ya Nan well. You and she are my only concerns. Bless you both.
I'm leaving...
That noon, I don't remember how I arrived at Su Yi's former home. I can only recall the scene of kneeling before Su Yi's smiling photograph. That day, in the flames, along with Su Yi's final words, my love, my heart, all my ideals and pursuits burned to ashes.
Me and My Women (VI)
There's a saying: life is worse than death. That was my state of mind in the days after Su Yi left.
I killed Su Yi, I took Ya Nan's mother's life. If I hadn't loved Ya Nan, hadn't accepted Ya Nan's love, hadn't touched her pure heart, none of this would have happened, none of the tragedy would have existed.
I often wake up from nightmares, covered in cold sweat. How I wish everything that happened in my real life was just a dream. But Su Yi was truly gone, the tragedy had truly occurred, and it was only the beginning.
During the days I was hospitalized with a serious illness, Ya Nan, thousands of miles away, also collapsed from grief and was admitted to the Sino-Japanese Friendship Hospital in Beijing. More than twenty days later, when I saw Ya Nan again at the train station, she held Su Yi's urn, looking so haggard, like a withered leaf trembling in the wind. Ya Nan saw me, handed the urn to a middle-aged man beside her—her father—and ran over to me, embracing me and weeping bitterly. At that moment, I had no tears left.
After returning from burying Su Yi's ashes in her hometown of Hangzhou, Ya Nan's father rushed back to the United States. Ya Nan didn't immediately return to Beijing. She took a few days off from school to stay and sort through her mother's belongings.
During the days Ya Nan was there, apart from making love once the first night, we didn't share a bed again.
We even rarely spoke, afraid of touching on painful topics. That atmosphere was incredibly oppressive. After having dinner with Ya Nan, I simply held her hand silently, watched TV with her for a while, and then left early.
Feeling empty inside, I pushed my bicycle along the dimly lit streets, aimlessly wandering. I often went into a small Korean restaurant not far from the school, with only five or six tables, ordered two bottles of beer and a plate of kimchi, lit a cigarette I'd only recently started smoking, and sat in a corner until late at night.
At that time, although I was only a junior in college, I was already forced to sell my calligraphy to support myself. Although the income wasn't huge, it was enough to live without my parents' hard-earned money. Sometimes I would even give some money home and buy gifts for Ya Nan. For myself, besides buying books and meal tickets for the student cafeteria, I had almost no other expenses. Drinking and smoking were things I started after Su Yi left.
The night before Ya Nan returned to Beijing, I was still sitting alone in the corner of the restaurant. I had just finished a bottle of beer when I saw Ya Nan rush in. It was almost ten o'clock. I had been with her just two hours earlier, and I didn't know why she suddenly wanted to see me. "
I went to your dorm. Your roommates said you might be here."
I noticed that Ya Nan's expression was unusually serious; I had never seen her speak to me so formally before.
My heart started to pound.
"It's so late, is there something wrong?"
I stared at Ya Nan's face, trying to glean something. "
Yes, let's go outside and talk.
" Ya Nan's tone was harsh.
I got up, paid the bill, and went outside with her. Reaching the bicycle, I stopped and looked at Ya Nan, saying, "Go ahead."
I saw Ya Nan's chest heaving violently. "
Did my mother commit suicide?"
I never expected Ya Nan to suddenly ask this question.
In the dim light, I forced a smile and said to Ya Nan, "Don't overthink it. Your mother's passing was purely accidental."
After saying that, I reached out to take Ya Nan's hand. Ya Nan immediately dodged and said, "Don't touch me!"
She opened her bag, took out a stack of manuscript papers, and asked me, "Did you write this?"
I took it and looked at it, my head buzzing as if I'd been hit by something. It was the essay I'd written over a year ago, "On the Beauty of Sexual Love." "
Where did you find it?"
Instantly understanding everything, I calmed down. I asked Ya Nan calmly. "
In the drawer of my mother's desk in her study,"
Ya Nan replied.
We fell silent. After a long while, Ya Nan looked up and finally asked the question I'd already expected. "
Have you slept with my mother?"
The truth was crystal clear; I couldn't lie any longer. My heart had already given up, and I nodded.
I saw Ya Nan raise her hand and swing it at my face. I didn't move or dodge; I only felt a burning sensation on my left cheek where Ya Nan had slapped me hard, and my ears were ringing.
This slap was for my mother. "This slap is for myself. You beast!"
With that, Ya Nan slapped me hard across the right cheek. The sound was so crisp, carrying far through the night. I saw several elderly people sitting under the streetlights across the street looking up at us.
For some reason, the instant after being slapped twice by Ya Nan, I felt an inexplicable sense of relief and liberation. I stood there stiffly, offering no rebuttal. "
I never want to see you again! Rousseau, die!"
Ya Nan finished speaking and turned to run away.
Worried that Ya Nan might do something rash, I followed her on my bicycle at a distance until she reached her house. After Ya Nan went inside, I stood outside the door and heard the sound of things being thrown inside. After a brief commotion, finally, Ya Nan's heart-wrenching cries came through the crack in the door.
That night, I crouched outside Ya Nan's door like a dog until dawn. Only after hearing Ya Nan get up and move around in the living room did I quietly leave.
That afternoon, Ya Nan boarded a train heading north and left without a word.
Later, I wrote her dozens of letters, all of which were returned unopened. I called countless times, but she always said she wasn't there. During the summer vacation, I thought she would come back. I didn't go back to my hometown; instead, I waited outside her door day and night. But the entire vacation passed without me seeing her; it was as if she had vanished into thin air. I
couldn't bear it any longer. On the first weekend after the semester started, I asked my advisor for leave and took the train to the Beijing campus to find Ya Nan. Ya Nan's department head told me that two months before the summer vacation, Ya Nan had withdrawn from the university and gone to the United States. After
returning from Beijing, I was like a different person. I could go for days without saying a word to anyone. My beard grew thicker and thicker, and although my advisor hinted several times that I should shave it off, I didn't. After class during the day, I would go to that Korean restaurant alone at night, drinking and writing down my living expenses for several magazines on that slightly greasy table. Although I didn't know what I was writing at the time, I told myself I had to live, I had to live until the day I could see Ya-nan again.
Countless nights, drunk, I would find myself standing downstairs at Ya-nan's house, staring at the window—as dark as my heart—silently calling her name.
Finally, one day, I was completely desperate.
It was the second month after I returned from Beijing, and I received another letter from America. My name was printed on the envelope. I opened it, and inside was only a photograph. In the photo, Ya-nan, wearing a wedding dress and holding flowers, looked slightly overweight, while a Western man in his forties or fifties, wearing a tuxedo and slightly balding, was embracing the waist I had once embraced.
That night, I returned to my dorm, shaved off the beard I had grown for months, changed into new clothes, and went to that Korean restaurant. After drinking over a dozen bottles of beer on an empty stomach, I put the written suicide note and Ya Nan's photo into my jacket pocket, staggered to my feet, and went to the restaurant counter to pay the bill. I said to the owner, "Thank you. Today might be my last time here."
I walked out of the restaurant under the owner's surprised gaze.
Back on campus, I went to the back of the library, where the lights had long since gone out, to the lawn where Ya Nan and I had once sat together. I knelt down, facing northwest towards my hometown, and kowtowed three times to my parents. Then, I looked up at the sky, silently calling out Su Yi's name a few times, before quietly lying down. I took out a razor blade from my pocket and forcefully cut my left wrist.
There was only a slight pain, accompanied by a cool sensation. But soon after, I felt the bleeding cut begin to itch, and small insects crawling around. I knew it was the ants in the grass smelling my blood.
I lay there motionless, waiting for the moment when my soul would finally leave this filthy body.
The surroundings were so quiet, with only the chirping of cicadas and the faint sound of ship horns on the distant river. A crescent moon hung high in the cold night sky. A shooting star, trailing a long streak of light, streaked across my head.
I felt I was finally about to be free, and I smiled for the first time since Ya Nan left.
But I didn't die.
A week later, after leaving the hospital, I bought some gifts and went back to that Korean restaurant. I wanted to thank the owner, the one who hadn't let me have my way.
The owner said, "You're really lucky. That day, I felt something was wrong with you. After you left, I followed you, but you disappeared after you entered your school gate. Your classmates and I searched for you for most of the night.
When we found you, you were on the verge of death. Actually, it wasn't me who saved you; it was fate that prevented you from dying.
When I shone a flashlight on you, I saw your arm covered in a dense layer of ants. If it weren't for those little creatures, I reckon you would have bled to death long ago."
The proprietress concluded: "Young man, I think you're a pretty good person. Don't do anything foolish again. If you're having trouble thinking, just like before, come here, have a few drinks, go back and get a good night's sleep, and you'll forget everything."
Yes, a good night's sleep, and you'll forget everything. How I wish that were true.
I've loved, I've hurt, I've suffered, I've even faced death.
At just over twenty, I've already seen through the illusions of the world. After graduating and being assigned to a news agency in Beijing, I quickly rode off into the world of women.
Not for love, and there was no love, just for the sounds of birdsong and tiger roars in bed.
Me and my women (7)
In the mid-1980s, being a reporter was still quite desirable, unlike now, when you're like a fly, buzzing around and causing trouble wherever you go.
A graduate of a prestigious university, formally trained, and barely twenty years old, I carried that little notebook with my press pass printed on it, which made me seem a bit more arrogant than those junior reporters from evening or daily newspapers. Wherever I went, I was like an FBI agent in an American blockbuster, arms crossed, completely fearless.
When I went out to do interviews, especially to other provinces and cities, local officials, big and small, treated me like an imperial envoy, their enthusiasm and attentiveness bordering on serving a prince, practically kneeling and kowtowing in obeisance. Do you know why? They were all afraid that if they didn't treat me well, I'd have to go back to Beijing to write internal reports, expose their schemes, nitpick at them, ruin their careers, and destroy their futures. Those bastards—just thinking about their insincere smiles makes me laugh.
And so, after four years of tumultuous spiritual and physical experiences at university, my mood brightened considerably after only a few days of working in Beijing, as clear as the blue sky of Beijing in October. The hurt and pain left in my heart by Su Yi's death and Ya Nan's heartlessness were nothing more than a few clouds in that blue sky, quickly blown away by the wind. That's just human nature. Back then, I was fighting tooth and nail with myself, getting stuck in a dead end, unable to escape. But once I broke free, I discovered how vast the world was. I felt like I hadn't died; I'd really gotten a great deal.
In short, my feelings after arriving in Beijing were like the sun at eight or nine in the morning, as Chairman Mao described it, breaking through the darkness and beginning to rise vigorously.
Perhaps because I had started writing early to support myself during university, among the young people assigned to the news agency at the same time, although I was the youngest, I learned the job the fastest. Every time they returned from an interview trip, while the rest of them were still huddled in the office, racking their brains, my article had already been published and was taking root in newspapers large and small across the country. Therefore, I was the first to finish my internship and the first to be let go. The
first few months of work were exciting, enthusiastic, and I worked myself to the bone. I barely felt any urge to think about women. Before, I would get out of bed every morning at dawn, full of energy and spirit, but now I felt like I was still asleep, limp and listless. Sometimes I felt strange myself; I even started to wonder if I had become impotent from the drastic measures I had taken a few months earlier.
But no. Not only that, but later, through the repeated testimonies of women, I became more and more powerful and confident.
The first to prove me right, and the fourth woman in my life, was Pei Pei, a third-year student in the performing arts department of a certain college in Beijing.
I first met her on that lovely golden-yellow tree-lined path outside the walls of the Diaoyutai State Guesthouse in Sanlihe, Beijing. Under the camera's pursuit, she ran desperately, her breasts—which I later heard were the most voluptuous in a certain Beijing college—jumping wildly beneath her tight black fleece top.
For some reason, I suddenly thought of the enormous breasts of that Japanese enchantress, Makoto Somi, and in an instant, just an instant, my lust, dormant for months, was ignited.
It was Sunday afternoon, dusk. My fellow townsman, Xiao Yang, who had been with the news agency's domestic department for three years longer than me, said to me: "How about it, are you aroused?"
I didn't know if he meant my eyes or my lower body. Anyway, I was completely aroused.
Xiao Yang was very close to Director Chen of this TV series; they were buddies. Xiao Yang himself said he had secured over a million yuan in sponsorship for the series. No wonder he acted like a big shot, standing there more like a director than the director himself.
Xiao Yang told me: "I brought you here today for two reasons. First, to let you see the pretty girls at the 'Beijing Brothel Academy' (he renamed a certain Beijing academy). Second, to enlighten your little brother and teach him some ways to make money, instead of just burying his head in writing articles and focusing solely on becoming a famous reporter.
What do you mean? Just say it directly."
I sensed something was off about Xiao Yang's old-fashioned manner, so I asked him directly.
Hearing me say that, Xiao Yang perked up. He had the staff bring us two folding chairs, unfold them, and then whispered to me: "Director Chen told me that this film still needs some funding. You're currently running around the country, trying to find a few construction or real estate companies to contribute. You can get a cut from that. You're already handsome, and with a bit of money, picking up a hot girl like Pei Pei is a piece of cake."
Damn! Are you trying to ruin me?
I'd only been a reporter for two days, and I was already starting to act like Xiao Yang, all sleazy and unrefined.
"If you think I'm trying to harm you, then don't do it at all."
Xiao Yang started to provoke me.
"Then name your price, how much?"
I started to get interested. "
We'll talk about this with Director Chen at dinner after they finish filming,
" Xiao Yang said mysteriously. Dinner was arranged at the Xiyuan Hotel's Western restaurant near the zoo. Me, Xiao Yang, Director Chen, the cinematographer, the producer, and of course Pei Pei, the six of us sat at a separate table. The director deliberately had Pei Pei sit next to me. Obviously, he was starting to use his charm on me. I played along and took the opportunity to get to know Pei Pei. Before we were even halfway through dinner, Pei Pei started calling me "brother."
Xiao Yang, who was nearby, immediately shouted: "Director Chen, did you see that? Brother, brother! I'm so damn annoyed! I've known Pei Pei for almost three months, have you ever heard her call me 'brother' even once?" "No. Not even once." Well, she just met our handsome Xiao Lu and now she's been calling him "brother" nonstop.
"You'd better go to the restroom before you talk,"
Pei Pei said to Xiao Yang with a smile.
Xiao Yang didn't understand. He asked stupidly, "Why?"
Director Chen laughed and said, "Pei Pei means you should take a piss and look at yourself in the mirror.
" "Pei Pei, your mouth is too sharp!" Xiao Yang laughed self
-deprecatingly. " As the saying goes, adults don't hit each other in the face, and you don't expose each other's shortcomings when you're cursing. Why
are you deliberately trying to ruin me?" "Although I'm not as handsome as your Brother Lu, I'm still a manly man wherever I stand." That night, I promised Director Chen that I could try to contact the CEOs of some big companies I had interviewed, but I couldn't guarantee the amount of 800,000.
Two weeks later, Director Chen, the producer, Pei Pei, and I flew to Guangzhou. Director Chen and his team signed a sponsorship contract with the largest real estate company in the area. The 800,000 was deposited into the crew's account three days later. Of course, as agreed beforehand, I also received a considerable kickback.
Perhaps influenced by reading *Water Margin* as a child, I had the impression that Shandong was a place that produced many upright heroes like Wu Song and Li Kui. I never imagined it would also produce such a fiery woman, and a particularly fiery one at that—I mean, someone who sleeps with you. Because Pei Pei's hometown is Weifang, Shandong.
The first time I slept with Pei Pei was one evening shortly after we returned from Guangzhou.
It was a Saturday. Since Pei Pei didn't have any filming for the next few days, she didn't have to spend so many evenings with Director Chen and his crew. She told Director Chen she was going back to the academy, and that afternoon she came to my single dormitory in the news agency's staff quarters early in the morning.
At the time, I was sharing a room with another newly assigned college graduate, Xiao Meng, who specialized in agriculture. He happened to be bedridden with a fever for the past few days, and I couldn't get rid of him.
In a moment of desperation, I suddenly thought of the Summer Palace.
I said to Pei Pei, "I went to the Summer Palace for an interview recently and got to know the director quite well. Why don't we go to the park tonight, go boating, and even stay overnight?"
Upon hearing this, Pei Pei immediately jumped up with joy. She said, "Great! I've been filming for the past few days and I'm exhausted. I just need to relax. But before I go, I need to go back to the academy to get my pajamas and cosmetics, and I'll also bring my guzheng."
The first time I had dinner with Pei Pei at the Xiyuan Hotel, Director Chen mentioned to me that Pei Pei played the guzheng very professionally and had a very nice voice. It was a pity I had never heard her play. Hearing her say this, I was naturally overjoyed. I immediately ran downstairs and used a public phone to call the director of the Summer Palace, saying that I wanted to come over with my girlfriend that evening and asked him to arrange a meal and accommodation for us at the normal guest rate. The director agreed without hesitation.
When Pei Pei and I arrived at the Summer Palace, it was a little after six in the evening. The park was already closed. The director had to leave early because of other matters. He arranged for a young man surnamed Song to receive us.
The place we stayed that night was called Shennongxuan. I heard that Chairman Mao and Zhou Enlai stayed here for a while before they officially took over Zhongnanhai in Beijing in 1949. Now it has been converted into guest rooms, specifically for receiving foreign guests.
Xiao Song led Pei Pei and me through a long corridor to a quaint, antique-style double room with carved beams, painted pillars, and paper-covered windows.
Pei Pei chuckled when she saw the thin paper. I knew why. I casually asked Xiao Song, "Hey buddy, is this paper window soundproof? Won't someone poke through it at night?"
Xiao Song gave a sly laugh. He pulled me closer, pointed it out, and whispered, "Look closely, it's not one layer, it's two layers, buddy. There's a layer of glass in between. Besides, our director ordered this room reserved for you two. It's empty all around, so you can do whatever you want tonight. Don't worry, no one will hear you, and no one will dare to peek."
I glanced back at Pei Pei and said, "Did you hear that? Do whatever you want, don't worry, no one will hear you, and no one will peek."
What a disgusting joke!
After Pei Pei finished speaking, her face flushed, and she smiled, pursing her lips. She's a girl who loves music. I really like that about her.
After putting our things away and washing our faces, I took Pei Pei's guzheng, held her hand, and followed Xiao Song to Tingliguan for dinner.
In the magnificent restaurant, there were only a dozen or so blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigners. Pei Pei and I sat down at the table that had already been set out. Four dishes and a soup, a pot of warm old wine, and two bowls of rice. Pei Pei and I quickly finished eating and went to Kunming Lake in the garden to row a boat.
Late September in Beijing was already starting to feel less humid. The Summer Palace, located at the foot of Fragrant Hills, far from the city center, even started to feel a bit cool at night.
The sun had long since set, and even the fiery red sunset in the west had disappeared without a trace. Without the noisy tourists of the daytime, the vast garden seemed unusually empty and quiet. The only sounds reaching my ears were the chorus of frogs, the chirping of cicadas in the woods along the shore, and the splashing of the oars as I rowed the boat.
I forgot if there was a moon that night. I only remember the row of warm, orange lights on the shore, their glow shimmering on the lake's surface, rippling in the breeze. This dancing light reflected on Pei Pei's face, making her look beautiful.
At that moment, I suddenly thought of Ya Nan again, and I seemed to see her delicate face, tinged with melancholy,
once more. A long-forgotten pain, like a gentle evening breeze across the lake, flashed through my heart. But my heart quickly returned to calm.
Gazing into the distance, the lake and mountains were beautiful; looking closer, I saw a beautiful woman. What more could I ask for? How long can such happiness last?
Why should I disturb this precious night with Pei Pei for a love that has passed?
With that thought, I lightly began to row.
Once we reached the wide expanse of the lake, I stopped, letting the small boat drift freely with the current.
At that moment, Pei Pei opened her zither case, took out the guzheng, and placed it flat on her knees. She lowered her head and gently plucked a couple of strings, and soon, the ancient melody "High Mountains and Flowing Water" flowed from her fingertips, instantly echoing across the entire lake.
Sometimes melodious, sometimes soaring, sometimes passionate, sometimes gentle. The chirping of cicadas and croaking of frogs all vanished; for a moment, it seemed as if all of heaven and earth were deeply attracted by Pei Pei's resonant zither music, just like me, holding their breath in awe.
Accompanied by this heavenly ancient sound, Pei Pei began to sing softly. Her voice was so bright, clear, and without a trace of impurity.
I was completely captivated, utterly immersed in it. It wasn't until Pei Pei stopped for a while that I finally came to my senses from the lingering melody.
I said to Pei Pei: "This is the happiest day I've had in over a year." You played so beautifully, you sang so mesmerizingly. You look absolutely stunning tonight.
With that, I leaned over, ignoring the rocking of the small boat, and planted a passionate kiss on Pei Pei's cheek.
Just then, cheers erupted from the shore. Looking in the direction of the sound, I vaguely saw the dozen or so foreigners I'd seen at dinner earlier, waving in our direction under the streetlights. It seemed they too were captivated by Pei Pei's masterful guzheng performance.
In the hazy night, gazing at the increasingly beautiful Pei Pei, a long-dormant urge began to rise slowly within me. I felt a throbbing below; I wanted Pei Pei.
I said to Pei Pei, "Let's go ashore."
In the dim light, Pei Pei gently nodded.
So, I picked up the oars and rowed vigorously towards the shore.
Ashore, carrying the guzheng in one hand and Pei Pei in the other, we walked along the quiet path towards Shennong Pavilion. On the way, my hand, through Pei Pei's clothes, felt her rounded breasts and waist—so sexy. I hadn't realized that she, with her tall, slender figure, was actually secretly gaining weight.
I liked this voluptuousness. I involuntarily stopped, put down my guzheng, leaned against a towering ancient tree beside the secluded path, and pulled the already affectionate Pei Pei into my arms. We began a passionate embrace and kiss.
Pei Pei's moist lips and her tongue constantly moving in and out of my mouth felt like eating fresh, smooth mushrooms. So I held her even tighter, kissing her relentlessly.
After a while, already burning with desire, I finally stopped. I grabbed my guzheng, pulled the now panting Pei Pei, and quickly walked towards the guest room.
Once inside, Pei Pei said she wanted to take a shower first, and I shamelessly offered to shower with her. But she pushed me away. Seeing her shy and delicate appearance, I thought to myself, even if Pei Pei isn't a virgin, she's at least a newbie who's only been in the bathroom once or twice.
After Pei Pei finished washing and came out of the bathroom, I went in, quickly rinsed myself off, and ran out, soaking wet.
I suppressed my burning desire and slowly unbuttoned Pei Pei's pajamas, which were already on the bed. My movements were as delicate as unrolling a precious landscape painting. With the help of soft light, Pei Pei's alluring body slowly and perfectly unfolded before my eyes.
Considering that Pei Pei might be a virgin, I was patient. After a long period of intimate caresses, I began to carefully and gently probe peacefully to enter her, without a trace of violence. However, at the very moment I thrust in, I realized that my judgment was seriously flawed.
Pei Pei, who had only trembled slightly and was a little breathless when I kissed and caressed her, suddenly began to writhe violently beneath me, like a snake awakened by my presence—no, more like a python. Her arms and legs instantly coiled tightly around me, and she hissed with pleasure, sounding like a snake about to strike. I truly felt like I was battling a female python.
That familiar, long-lost physical pleasure, with Pei Pei's frenzied movements, instantly spread throughout my body, and I entered a frenzied, high-energy state.
A woman's sexual desire is like a well. Digging out a well of continuously flowing climax is not an easy task. I deeply understand this from Ya Nan's experience. So, as I fully enjoyed the unparalleled physical pleasure Pei Pei brought me, I suddenly remembered a text I learned in elementary school, "Don't Forget the Well-Digger When You Drink Water." I don't know which hero has unearthed such abundant sweetness in Pei Pei, who is only nineteen years old.
That night, after Pei Pei and I had finally calmed down after several storms, we almost simultaneously said the same thing: "I didn't expect you to be so amazing." As soon as the words left our mouths, we looked at each other and chuckled.
It was a tacit, completely open, and unconcerned smile, a smile that didn't hold grudges against each other's past.
We slept very late, and Pei Pei nestled in my arms as we talked a lot.
I told Pei Pei about my tragic experience of being raped by a Japanese woman when I was seventeen. Pei Pei listened, laughing through her tears. But for some reason, I didn't mention my relationships with Su Yi and Ya Nan, perhaps afraid of reopening old wounds.
Pei Pei also told me about her
experience two years ago, when she was sexually assaulted by a then-famous former national football player just a few months after being admitted to a college in Beijing. She also told me about her relationship with a minister's son a year ago, how the playboy abandoned her after he was done with her and found someone else, and how she attempted suicide by overdosing on medication and was rushed to the hospital. Having had a similar experience to Pei Pei, I suddenly felt a sense of kinship and regret for not having met her sooner.
In the days that followed, Pei Pei and I often spent time together. But strangely, we never said sweet words like "I love you" or "you love me," and there was no jealousy between us. Sometimes, when we were laughing and joking around, we were just like buddies. It's only during sex that you truly perceive the other person's gender.
This feeling is quite nice to me, and Pei Pei especially likes it too. She says that this way, neither of us feels tired; we can just let each other know when we want to get together, and if we get bored, we can separate for a few days to cool things off. I thought about it, and she's really right.
One weekend, after returning from an interview out of town, I called Pei Pei and told her I'd pick her up at the gate of her college.
As I sat in the taxi waiting for her to come out, I saw at least six Mercedes-Benz cars, four BMWs, and a white extended truck parked there.
I saw girls dressed in their finest attire, like a string of beautiful butterflies, fluttering out of the college gate, getting into their respective luxury cars, and being driven away.
After Pei Pei came out and got into the taxi I'd called, I smiled and asked her: "I'm neither from a wealthy family nor a tycoon, so why do you like being with me?"
Pei Pei thought for a moment and said: "I don't know. Anyway, from the first day I met you, I felt comfortable being with you; there weren't so many problems."
At this point, she smiled and whispered in my ear, "Also, I like sleeping with you."
Perhaps it's because of Pei Pei's open-mindedness, her carefree attitude, her ability to let go, and her capacity to move on that I still cherish her memory.
Pei Pei and I kept in touch on and off for a year until she graduated and went to work at a film studio in Shanghai. Pei Pei later acted in a few films, but none of them were leading roles. My contact with her ended after she married a Hong Kong businessman and moved to Hong Kong.

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Me and My Women [1-8]

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