A female college student's passionate night in a soft sleeper train—a true story

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Shortly after graduating from Peking University, I became a trainee photojournalist at a pictorial magazine. My job was to photograph landscapes and portraits, and traveling by train became a regular occurrence. Train journeys are usually tedious, but I experienced one particularly memorable night: a one-night stand in a sleeper berth, in which I lost my virginity. I often think back to that most exciting moment.

It was a day in August. My supervisor assigned me to photograph the scenery of Songhua Lake in Jilin City, so I boarded the train from Ningbo Station. The sleeper berth was cool and comfortable. I put away my camera, took out a magazine, and lay down on the lower bunk to browse. Just as the train was about to depart, a tall, handsome young man entered. My eyes lit up; he was incredibly handsome. Based on my professional eye, I knew he was a photogenic guy, a rare find.

He casually stuffed his large travel backpack under my berth. I wondered why he did that; perhaps he was going to be in the upper bunk. He didn't go up; instead, he sat on the opposite bunk, looking at me thoughtfully. I thought, "This guy is really strange. Why is he staring at me? Is there something wrong with me?" I checked my clothes; there was nothing that could have attracted his attention. Every time I looked at him, he lowered his head, avoiding my gaze. I could tell he was younger than me, a shy young man.

The train started moving, and two pretty girls came in. After whispering a few words to the young man, they hurriedly left. Ten minutes later, the conductor came in, exchanged my tickets, and said, "Have a pleasant journey. Please close the door when you rest."

The compartment was cool and comfortable, but the young man kept staring at me, making me uncomfortable. So I asked, "Could you please stop staring like that?" He smiled and said, "Hello, sister. You're lying in my berth now." I quickly took out my ticket to check—oh dear, I had chosen the wrong berth. I smiled, said sorry, and quickly got off. In the instant the young man passed me, I felt an inexplicable aura about him that captivated me, drawing me in and making me want to explore this young man's secrets.

This time it was my turn to look at the young man. He took out drinks, books, and a large baby bottle full of water from his backpack. I thought to myself, what a cute young man. My journalistic instincts kicked in again, and I asked, "Little brother, where are you going?" He smiled and said, "We're going to Changchun." I said, "You look so pretty, you seem to work in the theater." He smiled and said, "Sister, you have sharp eyes! I'm a film academy student. I just finished filming on location in Ningbo, and now we're going to Changchun for a film festival performance. The woman from earlier was an actress." I remembered that when my boss dropped me off, he told me to take some photos at the film festival. This was

a golden opportunity! Why not take a few pictures of him? Maybe he'd be happy to agree. So I took out my press pass and explained my identity, saying, "Can I take a few photos of you? Maybe you'll get a chance to be on a magazine cover." Hearing this, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed my hand, saying, "Great, sister!" Then, without waiting for a reply, he hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. Then he let go, blushing and looking down, saying, "Sister, I got carried away and got into character. I'm sorry." I laughed and joked, "If you're happy, just think of it as a performance with a beautiful leading lady." Actually, the moment I was hugged and kissed, I suddenly felt incredibly comfortable. After all, I'd been kissed by a handsome man, and that nervousness vanished instantly, leaving no trace on my face or in my heart.

He posed for over a dozen photos with me, and in the playback, I saw the most captivating face I'd ever seen. I was even a little moved, really wanting to hug the young man in front of me and kiss him on the cheek. We started chatting. It turned out I was only a year older than him and had graduated a year earlier. He and his group of five had gone to Changchun, and the girl who had come in earlier was an actress, accompanying the director in another private room, discussing the performance. We had similar professions, so naturally we had a lot to talk about. He took out the script and told me it was an urban romance drama with many passionate storylines. I joked, "Judging from your hug just now, you must have been with many girls. Acting in this kind of scene must be a piece of cake for you." He smiled shyly and said, "Sister, you're teasing me. I've never actually hugged a girl before. I only did a symbolic hug once or twice when I was learning acting." I blurted out, "Okay then, I'll play the female lead in this scene and hug you a few times."

I don't know why I suddenly said that. Maybe this is what they call a moment of infatuation. Perhaps it was a gesture, a glance, a certain aura, a certain mood, or something else during our conversation that touched me and made me want to get closer to him. I felt inexplicably excited. He really stood up and pulled me into his arms. I felt like one heart had met another by chance. On the train, in this place, under these circumstances, there was a feeling shared only between us. I smelled his fragrance. I can't accurately describe the feeling I had at that moment. I suddenly longed for his kiss.

Oh my god, he really kissed me! I don't know if he was acting. I only know that a mysterious force made me welcome his embrace and kiss. He kissed me earnestly, and I reciprocated with passion. I knew I was no stranger to kissing; I'd seen countless kissing scenes. I'd forgotten the movie titles, the plots, even the faces of the leads, but the passionate kisses in those films often came to mind. The lingering intensity of those kisses never faded. I felt like I was truly the heroine in the movie.

The train lurched, and we collapsed onto our berths. Everything happened… We experienced countless moments of physical passion. At one in the morning, the two girls knocked on the door, forcing us to separate. I returned to my berth and drifted off to sleep, exhausted. They got off in Shenyang, but I forgot to get his name. Two days later, I arrived in Changchun, but I didn't see him at the film festival. I never tried to find him again. The tearing pain of him entering me, the physical pleasure he gave me, the moans of orgasm drowned out by the rumble of the train, the virgin "roses" blooming on the sheets—all those scenes were deeply imprinted in my mind, and I relive them from time to time.

I don't regret that one-night stand in the soft sleeper compartment of the train. I want to tell everyone that the moment of being moved is the essence of life. In the mundane routine of life, we always encounter those exciting moments unexpectedly. Perhaps this is the meaning of life and the charm of emotions. Passion and madness may not make love last, but the image of that moment of being moved will never fade in our hearts.

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A female college student's passionate night in a soft sleeper train—a true story

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