【Little Lover (Father and Daughter)】【Author: Xia Xiaozheng】

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

Author: Xia Xiaozheng
Word Count: 28485
Chapter
1
Zhong Pei first met Zhong Ling when she was nine years old. By then, he had almost forgotten he had
a daughter.
He was in the army when the child was born, and by the time he returned, the child had already been given away. He didn't care about the sex of
the child; carrying on the family line meant nothing to him, and he had little understanding of children. He seemed almost
numb to everything.
However, his wife, Yang Qinru, cared deeply about this. The child was taken away by her family shortly after birth, as she desperately
wanted his family's approval. However, having a second child as a government employee didn't meet the regulations, so the child was quickly given away. Zhong Pei was a
very ambitious man, and his wife thought she could conceive a boy again soon.
But she didn't conceive again until the third year after their marriage, and soon miscarried due to physical weakness. She was
devastated, her hair falling out in clumps. He stayed with her for two days, but was summoned back to the army.
He was in the prime of his career; every mission was an opportunity, or at least a stepping stone for his family to pave the way for him.
He couldn't let it slip away.
Her family was constantly pressuring her, both openly and subtly. Her sisters-in-law even called her a barren hen. She
was suffering , trying all sorts of Chinese and Western medicine to improve her health, but her work kept her constantly on the go. She
had climbed her way up from a remote, underdeveloped mountain village to this city, and then to his bed, becoming
his wife. She was shrewd, ruthless, a very capable woman, and exceptionally beautiful.
In the sixth year, she finally became pregnant again. At three months, she secretly took a test and found it was a boy.
By this time, her career had reached its peak. Excited to the point of waking up crying in the middle of the night, she ignored everything else and
stayed home to focus on her pregnancy.
She ate countless tonics, gaining weight, but the baby was still born prematurely at eight months
, pitifully small. Thankfully, it was a boy. She had achieved her goal, feeling as if she could finally
hold her head high in his family, looking at everyone with a smug, self-satisfied smile.
No one in the family thought of Zhongling anymore. His wife acted as if she had never given birth to the child,
showering meticulous care on the small, thin Zhongqi.
When Zhongling was nine, his wife's family called. Her parents were getting old and
struggling , and the conditions in the mountains were poor
. They felt it was unfair that a child from a family like theirs deserved a better upbringing.
The child was brought over by his uncle. The honest, simple rural man didn't even dare stay at the house for long; he felt
extremely uncomfortable. He gave a few words of advice and hurriedly left.
Zhongling grew up in the mountains; his skin was dark, and he was thin, but he was exceptionally handsome—a strikingly
beautiful child. She was terrified of the unfamiliar house, her dark eyes filled with unease. She clung tightly to
her uncle 's sleeve, refusing to let him go. "Niao Niao, be good. These are your parents. You'll study and go to school here from now on
. Uncle has to go now, I'm catching the train. Be good." They spoke in a dialect that wasn't easy to understand, their voices both affectionate and pitiful.
He secretly slipped some money into Zhong Ling's hand and hurriedly ran out to catch the train.
Zhong Ling cried uncontrollably, pounding and struggling against his arm in heart-wrenching sobs. She spoke in dialect, calling "Uncle" intermittently
, her voice especially shrill and shrill.
At first, Zhong Ling threw a tantrum twice, refusing to come out for meals and hiding in her room, ignoring everyone who called her. She even ran away from home
, sneaking out when no one was looking. Her wife, who already disliked her, was exasperated
and said she would no longer deal with her.
He notified the police and led the troops to search for her. Zhong Ling had been on the run for a day,
and it was very dark; they were almost on the highway when she was finally found. She had stolen two slices of bread that morning, but
was too hungry to eat them.
Zhong Ling had the wildness of a mountain child; she was unruly. She disliked her younger brother, Zhong Qi, and often
pinched him until he cried, even maliciously covering his mouth to stop him from making a sound. She was often scolded by Yang Qinru for this, but she stubbornly ignored her.
She was very good at climbing trees, and in a flash, she was up there, laughing exaggeratedly at the stunned children below. She was dark-skinned and
thin . He saw her from afar in the car and thought jokingly, "She really looks like a pretty little monkey."
She often bullied other children, whether from the neighborhood or the school. She always had the ability to make
them cry, and even more people were willing to take the blame for her. Despite her young age, she had a
long line of boys following her around, like a mountain queen.
She was very proud, only softening up when talking to her maternal relatives on the phone, speaking in a coquettish voice like a little girl. Due to
her dialect , she would call herself Niao Niao. When she was taken to her maternal relatives, they didn't give her a formal name. The schoolteacher
's daughter had passed away, and he was mentally unstable. He thought she looked just like his daughter, and that she was transformed from her, so he also called her Niao Niao.
Everyone called her that until she was four years old when they finally gave her a formal name.
"Silent as if a breeze is blowing, gracefully swaying without wind. "
Admittedly, this name didn't suit her at all, and no one in this family called her that. Sometimes, when he passed through the living room,
he would see her covering the phone, secretly looking around, saying into the phone, "Everyone goes back home for the holidays.
Niao Niao wants dried bamboo shoots, um, I want Uncle to make them. Ah Chong isn't allowed to eat them, he has to save some for me..." She
would go back home every winter and summer vacation, spending the entire holiday there, without fail.
He walked past her from behind, startling her. Startled, she quickly covered the microphone, her neck shrinking back, embarrassed and flustered,
her face flushed red. He came out of the kitchen with a glass of water. "What are you afraid of? Keep going."
He knew she was afraid of him; probably no one in the family wasn't. He was cold, rigid, and serious, like
a stagnant pool , calm yet unfathomable. Everyone was afraid of him, and even looking him in the eye made them tremble.
He was surprised when Zhong Ling spoke to him for the first time.
She stood at the door, awkwardly unsure how to begin. Just as he was impatiently starting to review
the official documents , he heard Zhong Ling speak, "Dad."
It was the first time Zhong Ling had called him Dad. "Hmm? What's wrong?"
"I... I want to... I want to learn to dance." She had mustered all her courage, standing stiffly at the door of his study,
her voice still trembling.
"Okay." He agreed, not caring what kind of dance it was or why she wanted to learn. He felt
he had no reason to refuse and was eager to finish the document in his hand.
Zhong Ling breathed a sigh of relief, almost jumping for joy, but still politely said, "Thank you."
He replied, "It's nothing." Looking up, he saw that the doorway was empty, and only the sound of footsteps echoed from the living room.
The sound of her running footsteps, as joyful as she was, made him smile suddenly.
He didn't know when Zhong Ling had grown up; growth is a gradual process. Suddenly, upon closer inspection, she
was already a graceful young woman, slender, with impeccable posture, walking with a ramrod-straight gait, her chin slightly raised, a pride visible to
all .
One morning, he returned from the army and entered his study to find someone inside. Zhong Ling
, somehow inside, stood on his desk, her back to him, reaching for a book on the back shelf. Her feet moved
lightly and gracefully across the table, her legs arching like a ballet dancer. Bathed in the warm light from the window,
her legs appeared long and straight, her waist so slender it could be encircled with one hand. Her movements, rising and falling, were like a swan bathed in the morning light,
each frame beautiful yet fragile.
She jumped down, barefoot, onto the floor, the sound of her footsteps like drumbeats, densely striking his heart.
She stopped in front of him, looking up at him.
She was very thin, even thinner after learning ballet, but no longer the gaunt kind. Her youthful skin gave her a plump, fleshy
look , like a silhouette, slender and beautiful. She had also become much fairer, a striking white that would stand out in a crowd,
making her look like a true city princess. Except for her temperament, she had lost all
the rustic .
From his perspective, he could see the whites of her eyes when she glared at him, her pert nose, and up close,
the fine downy hairs on her face illuminated by the sidelight, a bold and reckless girlishness.
She frowned slightly, her full lips moved, her lips a vibrant color, and she said, "You old pervert."
He shuddered, instinctively reaching for her hand, which she quickly dodged. She
ran towards the bedroom with her sketchbook, twisting her ankle halfway. When she reached the door, she glanced back at him, making a defiant face.
"Hmph."
He didn't chase after her. In that instant, all the muscles in his body felt like they were being reorganized; even the slightest movement caused a dull ache, leaving him
frozen place. His heart pounded like a battering ram against a city gate, thumping and pounding, threatening to shatter his chest.
Blood raced through his veins, his whole body felt restless, and his feet tingled.
He'd never felt this way before—a throbbing, pounding, uncontrollable heat, like standing in fire.
It was as if someone had splashed paint into his eyes, suddenly brightening his gray vision.
Chapter Two, Part
One:
In his memory, Zhong Ling was still that little girl, afraid to meet his gaze, audacious yet unusually
submissive to him. When, when did she notice the burning, unusually
clingy gaze he cast upon her?
He didn't feel his gaze lingered on her unnecessarily, yet he couldn't ignore the strange
change in his heart, a direct, piercing teasing, like needles pricking him, making him restless.
He had just entered the house when he heard Zhong Ling shouting, "Then why is it that my monthly income is less than
half ?"
"What are you doing with so much money, you're a girl! You're just going astray!"
"Going astray? Where am I going astray? Have you ever told me what
to do? It's only when a primary school student has so much money that he goes astray, right? Can't you be reasonable?"
"What kind of bad things do kids learn? What are you comparing yourself to your brother for? You're a girl, and you're going out and
messing !"
"Are you sick, Yang Qinru? Do you even know what you're saying?"
"Is this your upbringing? Calling your mother by her first name?"
"Nobody taught me that!" Zhong Ling's voice became hoarse, suppressing a sob, her whole body trembling, and she dropped what
she was holding and ran outside.
He blocked the doorway. Zhong Ling was already crying, but she was trying to hold it back and leave. She pushed him hard, "Get out of the way!"
He was unmoved, and instead grabbed Zhong Ling's wrist. It was slender and warm. In that instant, he felt as if he could feel
her pulse. He said to his wife, "Giving her more pocket money is fine. Girls should be raised with plenty. If you don't want to give her any,
then let her come to me for it later."
His wife rarely saw him mediate in a conflict. She was hesitant to argue, but she really wanted to stop him. She frowned,
as if were earnestly advising him, looking very troubled. "Zhong Pei, giving her so much money is useless. Spoiling her will only harm her."
"It doesn't matter. The child herself isn't bad. The amount of money is a matter of fairness."
His wife's face worsened. After hesitating for a moment, she said, "Zhong Pei, why are you suddenly meddling in such a small matter?"
"Can't I interfere? I'm a parent too."
She seemed unable to understand him, and was about to say, "Zhong Pei..."
She habitually called him by his name before speaking, her voice soft, almost submissive, making it seem more intimate and measured.
"Never mind, go get some undershirts, I'm going to the army for a few days."
He had absolute authority, and his wife dared not argue with him, leaving awkwardly.
Zhong Ling, head held high, with his back to him, kept twisting his wrist, which he was holding, trying to break free, but couldn't for a long time
, a frustrated sob escaping his throat.
She angrily pounded his arm, gritting her teeth, "What are
you doing? Don't pull me! Let go! Let go!" She started yelling in a fit of rage, her voice gradually lowering until she choked back sobs, "What are you doing?"
she cried, as if throwing a tantrum, "Why are you all so annoying? Why are you pointing at me like that? It's really..."
He heard her teeth chattering slightly, trying to hide her emotions but unable to control them. She started
struggling , her sandals kicking against the ground repeatedly, each kick a sign of her resistance.
Her wrists were red from her grip, and in a fit of rage, she bit down hard on the back of his hand. Her sharp teeth weren't just for
words; biting was also a form of lethality. She bit hard, one of her canine teeth digging into his flesh, and then, still not satisfied, she
pinched his arm.
He saw Zhong Ling's dark, gleaming eyes, as if something was burning fiercely within them.
The moment Zhong Ling met his gaze, she slowly released her teeth, still shaken, but standing defiantly before him.
He released her hand. "Go, go back inside. Come find me how much money you need."
Zhong Ling tilted her head to look at him, her tears still wet on her face, her eyes and cheeks red. She bit her lip as if
uttering a harsh threat, "You're so annoying."
She turned and walked towards her room, stomping her foot hard in a childish venting of anger. Her dance training made her stand ramrod straight,
yet she always gave off an air of confident self-assurance.
He looked at the deep teeth marks and wet saliva on the back of his hand. The cut Zhong Ling had made felt
like a needle prick, injecting Zhong Ling's "virus" into his bloodstream.
His heart pounded, and all sorts of unethical thoughts flooded his mind, a jumbled mess.
He raised his hand, his nose touching the back of it, and in an instant, his whole body was enveloped in the sweet scent of the girl's lips and teeth.
He hadn't even properly been her father yet, but he had already begun to fantasize about being her lover.
Chapter 3,
Part 1:
Zhong Ling began to pester him, inexplicably and relentlessly.
When he was home, he was used to sitting on the sofa watching the news. She would bring an apple over, sit down
next to him without a second thought, and automatically put her feet on his thighs, lying on her side. She wore white socks with ruffles around the heels, covering
her ankles, leaving her calves and half of her thighs bare before his eyes, straight and slender, like light-absorbing white, so tender it seemed you could
squeeze water from them.
She seemed oblivious, biting into her apple while watching TV, rhythmically tapping his thighs with her heels. The
"crunch crunch" of her biting was particularly jarring in his monotonous broadcasting voice, and her presence was far more
captivating to him than the news itself.
He didn't move or speak, seemingly oblivious, sitting upright as usual, just watching TV.
The sound of biting into the apple suddenly stopped. She leaned closer, sniffing his neck a few times. She continued biting into
the apple , raising her socked foot and stretching her entire left leg in front of him. "Aren't my legs pretty?" she
smiled at him, innocent yet wicked, shaking her head as she spoke. "Do you like them?"
she giggled, like a little rascal, shamelessly teasing him. He didn't know how to respond to this question that
didn't an answer. Suddenly, he heard someone open the door; there was movement in the entryway. Zhong Ling quickly put his leg down,
awkwardly crossing it, and resumed nonchalantly biting into his apple and watching TV.
His wife led Zhong Qi in. Zhong Qi was young and slow-growing, short and thin, looking smaller
than his schoolbag. He called out "Dad" and then "Sister," which Zhong Ling responded listlessly, tossing his finished apple into the trash can.
His wife went inside to put down her bag, then went into the kitchen with the maid to check on the dinner menu.
Zhong Qi jogged over to Zhong Ling's side, not yet taking out his schoolbag. He squatted down, his eyes wide and blinking as he looked at her.
He was a little afraid of Zhong Pei, and said in a small voice, "Sister, A-Qing gave me a big jigsaw puzzle. He said there are many pieces.
Can we put it together?" He shook her leg. "Okay, okay?"
Zhong Ling pointed at his forehead, making him turn away. "Aren't you two annoying? Giving gifts today and tomorrow.
Is this how you spend money? Don't come to me. Go find your mother. I'm too lazy to put it together. I don't want her to say I'm a bad influence on you."
She impatiently brushed a stray hair behind her ear.
"Sis," Zhong Qi's face scrunched up, he looked like a puppy, "Let's fight, I can't finish this."
Zhong Ling kept backing away from him, leaning against him, lifting his left hand and pointing it at Zhong Qi, "Make him
stay away, hurry up."
He felt his elbow pressed against Zhong Ling's soft chest, sandwiched between her breasts. Zhong Ling looked at him like
a block of wood, angrily repeating, "Hurry up!"
"Zhong Qi, go do your homework." What was this feeling? It was like being gnawed by countless ants, itchy and numb
.
He wanted to agree to whatever she said.
Zhong Qi responded with a sound, then walked away with his head down.
Zhong Ling threw his hand away, as if she had used it and then discarded it, patted her bottom and left.
She often appeared behind him, sometimes bumping into him, sometimes wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him, then running away with a
mischievous laugh.
She often went to his study, sprawling on the sofa without any proper posture, eating and looking at art books. They didn't
talk much, mostly doing their own things. But sometimes, when Zhong Ling was bored, she would snuggle into his lap, sit on his legs,
and watch him type on the computer. His genitals would lie between Zhong Ling's buttocks, being rubbed intentionally or unintentionally. He could clearly feel the allure of his daughter from
his erect penis.
After meals, he would talk to his wife. They sat at opposite ends of the table, discussing trivial matters,
sometimes about job changes.
He saw Zhong Ling come out of the room, drop something, and bend down to cut it. Her buttocks, covered by a short skirt,
were exposed, revealing the swollen vulva between her mounds. She wasn't wearing underwear.
Zhong Ling picked up the thing, and as if sensing his gaze, turned around. His wife, with her back to him,
was completely unaware of what was happening behind her.
She smiled at him with an air of confidence, disdain, and arrogance, mouthing silently, "You old lecher."
He clenched his fists, barely suppressing the violent tremor from the depths of his soul, veins throbbing on his forehead.
This vile yet alluring bitch, behind her mother's back, seduced her own father like this.
He didn't hear a word his wife was saying; his breathing became heavy, his taut legs began to go numb, and his Adam's apple bobbed
heavily . What was he enduring?
He often worked late and would sleep directly on the large sofa in his study. His biological clock would wake him up on time. In
the soft, hazy morning light, he saw Zhong Ling standing beside the sofa, wearing a nightgown and dancing ballet.
Her chin was held high, she wore white socks, her toes tapping alternately on the floor, spinning on one leg,
softened by the surrounding light like a falling feather.
Intentionally or unintentionally, she lost her balance and fell onto his sofa, pressing against his chest. She smiled at him again,
her eyes darting left and right, not looking at him, her gaze sparkling, playing with the blanket covering him. "Oh? You're awake."
Like a beast leaping out of his heart, he couldn't resist and pressed her down beneath him,
kissing her face and neck frantically while pulling her skirt up along her body's curves.
"Slut."
Chapter
4.1
So fragrant, so fragrant, his entire nasal cavity was filled with the overflowing sweet scent of a young girl's skin, like the tip of his nose touching a fresh
citrus.
He kissed her inch by inch, his hot lips pressing against her thin, warm skin, as if burning her, making
her laugh triumphantly while shrinking her shoulders and trembling.
Zhong Ling's slender arms were draped over his shoulders, her toes thrusting upwards. She seemed completely unafraid of being
heard , each kiss accompanied by a high-pitched cry, like a kitten going into heat for the first time.
He kissed Zhong Ling's navel, like a thin line, concave inwards. He seemed bewitched, finding this place small and
cute, his tongue circling and licking around it, making Zhong Ling's belly sticky and cool, his tongue grinding back and forth.
Zhong Ling seemed to enjoy being kissed like this, her skin warming up, tingling and numb, her small waist
twisting flexibly, her legs clamping his head, preventing him from kissing her any further, her mouth moaning incessantly.
He easily pried open her tightly closed legs. The little slut, as usual, wasn't wearing underwear. He held Zhongling's plump
little buttocks and sucked on her vulva back and forth.
Zhong Ling trembled all over, rolling around in his arms, panting and moaning, her whole body flushed with desire. In
the sweltering summer heat, it seemed you could almost see her hot breath. Just
as things were getting more intense, he was suddenly kicked away by Zhong Ling. Before she could catch her breath, she leaned back on
the sofa , her eyes filled with tears of passion. "I have to go to class,"
she said, telling him to bring her a tissue. She casually spread her legs and, in front of him, wiped
the sticky , tossing it aside.
She straightened her skirt, which had been pushed up to her chest, and was about to leave when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Zhong Ling turned back,
thought , and kissed him on the lips. "Shh, wait a little longer."
Zhong Ling left.
In this relationship, he never seemed to be in control. He was seduced, teased, and lost in passion, falling
onto the sofa with her and making love. He was completely manipulated by Zhong Ling. He wanted to hold Zhong Ling, yet feared he might
crush his hard-won lover by squeezing too hard.
Frustrated, he ruffled his hair a few times, then stood up and went to the bathroom for a cold shower.
Zhong Ling loved to tease him, regardless of the occasion or place. She liked to do it during meals, in front of his wife,
by placing her hand under the table on his thigh, unzipping his zipper, and gently stroking his genitals. He pressed her hand down, helplessly
looking up to see her eyes brimming with laughter.
She would sit on his lap, rubbing her hips against his neck, pouting and pecking at his chin repeatedly. When he couldn't bear
it any longer, she would get up and say she needed to use the bathroom.
The morning after he slept in the study, she would sneak up to him and snuggle into his arms.
If he was woken up, they could enjoy an hour of caresses and kisses, never tiring of it. He
rarely slept with his wife anymore. Like a young girl experiencing first love, he waited for his little lover to open the study door at dawn,
slip into his bed, and have a secret tryst with him behind everyone's back.
Sometimes he would pick her up from school and take her to the military base. Zhong Ling was curious about everything in his office, looking left and right
, and even smashed a teacup. She liked to jump on him and lick his lips while he was on the phone, her tongue
sweeping back and forth, but never penetrating. He was aroused, hung up the phone, and held her
buttocks, sucking until she cried out.
They hadn't actually done it yet, like drinking poison to quench thirst, desperately wanting to break through this last barrier.
He came home earlier and earlier, only to find Zhong Ling in his and his wife's bedroom, wearing high heels,
walking lightly on the floor like a child splashing in water.
Those were his wife's shoes, he recognized them, because they didn't fit, and the dress she was wearing wasn't hers either; for
a girl her age, the color was old-fashioned. She stood in front of the mirror, checking her upper body
, when she suddenly saw him standing in the doorway.
Startled, she turned around in alarm, her lips painted bright red, a mismatched
makeup look.
She quickly regained her composure, gracefully and slowly walking towards him, as if nothing had happened. "You're back. Do I
look good?" she smiled, even twirling in front of him, as if waiting for his opinion.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Nothing, nothing. Don't I look good?"
"If you like these shoes, I'll buy them for you. These are too big, they don't fit."
"Don't fit? I think they're great, I love them." She lifted her feet, answering him expressionlessly,
as if in defiance.
"I'll buy you new ones, shoes, dresses, lipstick, I'll buy you anything you want." He put his arm around Zhong Ling's waist, pulling her
close . "You'll have better ones, the best ones."
Without any logic, she suddenly asked, "You know what? My feet are ugly." Her tone was empty, as if
talking to herself .
He knew that Zhong Ling's feet had many wounds from dance training; the skin was old, dry, and somewhat deformed, so she
would wear socks even at home.
"I've kissed you," he said.
Zhong Ling's whole body stiffened and trembled. She jumped onto him, her hands kneading his military jacket, and kissed him frantically.
His entire face was covered in bright red lipstick marks. Zhong Ling clung to him tightly, like grasping at a lifeline.
Crying, she screamed hysterically, "Fuck me, fuck me to death, hurry up, I told you to hurry up!"
She struggled with all her might, one of her shoes even being thrown to the ground with a dull thud. Zhong Ling's mouth
kissed him haphazardly
, with almost no foreplay. Before she could even take off her shoes, she was forced onto the bed behind her. He roughly tore off her
panties, hooked them around her ankles, spat twice on her vulva, and was about to thrust inside.
Zhong Ling was in so much pain she was almost fainting. Her face was deathly pale, her lips were bitten until they bled, and her fingernails were turned outwards. "Just like that, come in,
come in."
His penis was thick, with a large glans, and it was difficult to penetrate at first. However, his semen smeared her labia,
which made it easier for him to insert the head of his penis.
Her voice was clearly trembling with sobs, and she was shaking like a leaf. Her legs were spread wide and she was hanging on his waist, her teeth chattering. She
was still oblivious to her impending doom. "Oh, all the way in."
He thrust his hips upwards, plunging his entire penis into her virgin passage, penetrating her virginity.
Zhong Ling froze in pain, afraid to move. The tearing pain and the feeling of being filled overwhelmed her, as if
her nerves had been ripped apart. Her lips trembled incessantly, and she let out a miserable sob. The pain of
being penetrated spread throughout her body.
He started moving, first slowly thrusting, then gradually faster and harder, until he reached her uterus.
He remained silent, thrusting relentlessly. Zhong Ling was very tight, and her insides were dry, making it difficult to move
. Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
Zhong Ling seemed to have finally regained the ability to speak. Being fucked so hard, she cried and screamed, flailing her arms and legs wildly
. "It's pierced through! I'm going to die!"
she complained. "What a donkey! Oh, oh, it's killing me!"
He kissed her, silencing her incessant chatter, and thrust hard inside her, his scrotum slapping against her labia.
Her insides were wet and hot, so tight they felt like they were going to break him. He really wanted to fuck her to death.
Just as the maid returned from grocery shopping to cook dinner, he carried Zhong Ling, fucking her as he walked towards the study. Zhong Ling responded
to him, tilting her head back and moaning incessantly. He locked the study door, pressed her onto the sofa, and fucked her.
Tireless and relentless, he spread her legs and thrust his hips in. Zhong Ling's soul was shattered by the impact,
yet he felt an unbearable pleasure. He tightly hugged her neck, and his lower body was filled with sweet, sticky fluids from the impact. The sounds of the impact and
the splashing water mingled together, sounding like an obscene melody to his ears.
He didn't know how long they'd been at it. Zhong Qi knocked on the door once, "Dad, are you home? Is
anyone ? Dad?"
His study was off-limits to everyone, and the door was often locked. Seeing no one answer, Zhong Qi ran away.
His phone kept ringing in his pocket, but he couldn't hear anything except Zhong Ling's lewd moans. Like an excited bull,
his eyes were bloodshot, focused only on attacking, thrusting relentlessly.
They were sweating profusely, clinging tightly to each other, kissing as they made love.
He'd never felt anything like this before, not wanting to stop, only wanting to stay inside her. The pleasure was like an addictive
poppy, spreading like wildfire, driving him mad in an instant.
He saw Zhong Ling beneath him, writhing in ecstasy, tears streaming down her face. She was so thin, barely
a third , her mouth wide open, moaning, "Oh, so big, faster."
She seemed to have a natural talent for sex, sucking and squeezing, her moans wanton. Men would die for her; this born
seductress.
The next day, he took her to the military base after asking Zhongling for leave from school. They made love in his office.
It seemed addictive; they constantly engaged in intercourse, using sex as their only outlet for their emotions.
Chapter 5, Part
1:
Zhongling loved it when he kissed her belly button; it was very sensitive, a touch would make her tremble with pleasure. She pulled her clothes
down to cover his head, stroking his belly, which swelled because of his head, like a pregnant woman. "Good boy
," she would call him, even when he sucked on her nipple, even if it left her
dehydrated . She wanted to maintain her verbal dominance.
She was a dancer, not very fleshy, and had great flexibility, able to do all sorts of positions, allowing him to enjoy
himself. She was born a slut; since he became a woman, no woman could withstand his advances, including
his wife.
But Zhong Ling was different. She loved to flirt with him, constantly touching his genitals, wiggling her hips with her back to him,
sitting on his desk, her feet on his crotch, saying, "You're sticking your butt out so high, shameless old pervert."
She would stand in front of him with her hair in pigtails, and when she told him to do it from behind, she would grab her pigtails and
thrust into him.
During sex, Zhong Ling was also quite vigorous, constantly cursing him with the most vulgar language, while simultaneously
telling him to go in harder, to fuck her to death.
When he had missions and couldn't go home, Zhong Ling would text him at night, "When are you coming back?"
"The day after tomorrow."
"So long, do you miss me?"
"Yes."
"Where do you miss me?"
He paused, unsure how to answer this wicked question.
"Everywhere."
"Oh? You're so pathetic, I don't miss you at all."
After a while, another message came, "Just my little sister down there is crying from missing you."
He was both amused and embarrassed by Zhong Ling's lewd jokes, and awkwardly noticed a subtle change in his lower body.
The phone rang. He nodded to the people in the meeting, got up, and left. Zhong Ling's voice came from the other end
, probably from under the covers, her voice deliberately lowered, "Just kidding, I miss you so much."
The call ended abruptly. He gripped his phone, feeling an overwhelming sense of
happiness times. He wished he could fly back immediately. He left the base the very next night after completing his mission, rushing
back home and arriving late that night. He climbed into Zhong Ling's bed, still chilled to the bone. Strangely, he felt no fatigue.
They began making love. He took Zhong Ling from one end of the bed to the other, then to the windowsill. She was as limp as a noodle, her
nipples almost plucked off by him.
Zhong Ling had a strong materialistic streak, always asking him to buy her things. She sat on his lap, her soft flesh enveloping his
large penis, sucking and squeezing. Every time he hesitated even slightly, she glared at him as if threateningly, "If you don't
buy it for me, I'll scream and let everyone see how Zhong Pei is doing to his daughter." Unfortunately, her voice was full of lust,
and her eyes were filled with spring, making it seem more like a seduction than a threat.
He gripped her waist and thrust harder and harder, Zhong Ling's mouth couldn't close, she was just busy screaming, "Oh,
oh, I'm going to die."
She and his wife were constantly arguing, shouting, and throwing things, they didn't seem like mother and daughter, but rather like a pair of
enemies .
He automatically put himself on Zhong Ling's side, and
when Zhong Ling's face was red and her eyes were wide open as she stubbornly held back her tears, he couldn't bear to see his little lover suffer.
"Yang Qinru, don't fight with the child!"
Zhong Ling glanced at him sideways, pursed her lips, and tears still fell uncontrollably, like a thin thread tightly
binding his heart.
"Zhong Pei, she's a wild child, impossible to manage. Have you ever seen her call us 'Dad' or 'Mom'? She
's never called us since the first day she came to this house." Her petty, sarcastic remarks only made her seem more
repulsive .
"She did call me. It's your own fault if she doesn't, don't blame the child." He took Zhong Ling's hand and
led her straight out the door, where they saw Zhong Qi returning home with his classmates.
Zhong Qi was startled, too afraid to ask him, and weakly tugged at Zhong Ling, "What's wrong, sis?"
Zhong Ling snapped at him, "Ask your mother!"
Zhong Qi watched them get into the car and leave, tears welling in his eyes, "Sis."
In the rearview mirror, he saw Zhong Qi's classmate trying to comfort him, looking helpless.
Zhong Ling had obviously seen it too, and scoffed, "Like conjoined twins." Her tears hadn't dried, but
that obvious sarcasm was already on her face, showing her utter disdain for everything.
They had a perfect excuse to stay out all night,
making love like wild beasts tearing at each other in the hotel bed. Zhong Ling's hair was soaked with sweat, sticking to his face, his expression a mixture of pain and pleasure, the ultimate ecstasy.
His wife called several times, begging him to come home, but Zhong Ling used his old tricks, putting the phone on speakerphone
, nibbling on his lips while enjoying his wife's submissive behavior on the phone, simultaneously manipulating his parents and making her
so happy.
As he buried himself in Zhong Ling's body again, he heard her satisfied panting, and she said
teasingly , "Next time she calls, we'll make love. She'll never imagine that
while she's crying and begging you, you're practically fucking me to death. Isn't that exciting? Haha." A
smug laugh came from her wicked little mouth, when suddenly he thrust hard into her. "Oh, it's so big! What are you
doing ? It hurts! Oh, more!"
He eventually went back home, and the lack of sex in their marriage made their relationship even colder. His wife tried many times, even attempting to
keep him company in the study. Zhong Ling saw her once, turned away, and slammed his bedroom door shut, his jealousy tinged with
awkwardness .
The next day, when he returned home, Zhong Ling was nowhere to be found, and he wouldn't answer his phone.
Feeling abandoned and betrayed, he flew into a rage, even extending to his wife.
Her tone was as if advising a lost traveler, "How am I supposed to know where she is? She hasn't been home at night
for a while now, and that girl's got a bad temper! Who can control her?"
"Fine," he glared at his wife, "I'll handle it, but don't interfere." He turned and walked away.
"Zhong Pei, Zhong Pei…" she called anxiously from behind, unable to catch up, watching helplessly as he drove
away.
He sent people to investigate, and they finally found her at a karaoke bar. Zhong Ling sat alone in a corner, the dazzling
lights flashing across her face, cold and dignified, observing the chaotic scene.
He pushed through the crowd and pulled her out. Zhong Ling stumbled as he dragged her into the now silent private room.
He thought Zhong Ling hadn't been drinking, just smelled of alcohol, but she was crying and laughing, acting like she was drunk.
Zhong Ling was agitated, kicking him repeatedly, "What do you want from me?
Nobody's ever contacted me except that idiot Zhong Qi, and now you're here, you old lecher, shameless!"
When he entered, several people were disoriented, their eyes glazed, acting like madmen; they were probably on drugs.
He made a phone call, ordering someone to investigate the establishment.
He pulled Zhong Ling into the car and casually wiped her tears with his sleeve. Zhong Ling pushed his hand away. "
What ? You want to sleep with me?" she
said sarcastically, blaming him as if talking to herself. "
What's ? Is it good? Does she often cry after you fuck her? She's a mature woman, right? She must have a hot body. It's been so long since
we've done this. What time did you two do it until last night? Late at night, right?"
She insincerely brought up the previous night, indirectly asking him if he had slept with his wife.
"I slept alone."
"Oh? Really?" She laughed dismissively. "Why didn't you let her sleep here?"
"I thought you were coming."
Zhong Ling was clearly much happier, looking out the window. "Hmph, what would I do there? I'd rather not ruin
your good time."
"If you don't come, who will I do good with?"
Zhong Ling laughed smugly, taking off his clothes right there on the seat. He was only wearing a bra, pulling it down
to reveal his left soft breast. It wasn't perky, but it was incredibly white, soft, and pink, like a little rabbit with pointed nipples ,
beckoning him to suckle. "Come on, let's do good."
He leaned down, taking her breast into his mouth, sucking and licking the nipple with his tongue. Zhong Ling melted
into a puddle in his mouth, her fingers running through his hair, stroking it lightly and heavily as he sucked.
He pulled down her pants, spread her legs apart, roughly licked her vulva a few times, and then
impatiently thrust inside.
Zhong Ling enjoyed teasing him and was already used to his impatient, almost pretentious, sex. She tightly enveloped
him, gripping his shoulders and moaning.
The intense car sex, the confined space making them inseparable, sweat, saliva, semen, tears—
they exchanged bodily fluids with unbridled pleasure. Zhong Ling felt like she was dying a hundred times from his fierce penis, her mouth swollen from sucking,
crying uncontrollably, unable to suppress the moans escaping her throat.
"You can only do good things with me."
In this chaotic car, the burgeoning lust made him lose all sensation except pleasure, even
unable to distinguish who was saying those words.
Chapter Seven ,
Part One:
Zhong Ling was quiet for a long time because of his indifference and hostility towards his wife.
However, perhaps she was truly rebellious by nature, her genes inherently restless. That afternoon, she made an excuse about a school activity, saying
she would be late, and called him, half-jokingly reporting her situation.
She turned and followed him into the bar. A ballet dancer, she had a passion for rock music and was
completely captivated by the bar's resident singer.
People are always opportunistic; once a lie succeeds, they want to try again, and again, until
he caught her in a fit of rage.
He had probably never been angry with Zhong Ling before. His teenage daughter, his rebellious and unruly little lover, was
the rose in his heart, causing him both pain and pity. Just like when he dragged her out of the karaoke room last time, this time
he forcefully dragged her out of the bar in broad daylight.
Zhong Ling resisted even more fiercely than before. After all, this was no longer her game of cat and mouse; the fear of being caught
made her punch and kick him, screaming, "What are you doing? Don't drag me! Let go, you lunatic! Are you
trying to rape me? Get away!"
"What did you say?" He threw her into the car, slammed the door, and drove off.
Zhong Ling kept making a scene the whole way, refusing to calm down. "Why did you arrest me? Do you think I'm afraid of you? Huh?"
"Oh, aren't you afraid of me?" He stopped the car at a red light, turned his head and looked directly into her eyes. "Think about it again."
Zhong Ling had been drinking, and the alcohol was making her angry and embarrassed. Her face was red, like a red light overhead.
"I'm not afraid of you!" she shouted, gripping the car door handle tightly, defiant. "What do you have to be afraid of?
Are you going to hit me? Go ahead and hit me! You old pervert, you violent maniac, do you think you're my father or my
man ? Mind your own business, you shameless bastard."
Her eyes darted left and right, her vicious little mouth spitting out hurtful words. After saying the last sentence, she
looked at him timidly. "I'm just disgusted, I'm not afraid at all."
He turned back like a bystander watching a play, coldly and stiffly looking straight ahead. "Fine."
The red light had long since turned green. He gripped the steering wheel and drove back without a word.
He slept in the study that night, but the next day, when Zhong Ling and his wife argued again,
he remained silent and went into the bedroom.
The arguing outside grew louder, and he began to take off his clothes, calling out, "Qinru, run me
some hot water, I want to take a bath."
His wife, as if she hadn't heard him, immediately quieted down, her expression shifting several times before she slowly smiled. She left Zhong Ling
and ran excitedly into the bathroom, calling out, "Hey, coming! Zhong Pei, wait a minute!"
When he came out of the bathroom, dinner was almost on the table. Zhong Qi had just returned, carrying a basketball, covered in
sweat, and was talking to Zhong Ling.
"You can play basketball? Wen Qing taught you?"
"Hmm, Ah Qing said guys who play basketball are handsome, hehe."
"He probably just wants you to grow taller, right? You shorty, he's a head taller than you."
Zhong Qi was a little embarrassed. "A little bit, but he said more exercise means less illness."
Zhong Ling glanced at him, as if she saw through everything, and sneered, "Oh, he knows so much,
you idiot ."
"Zhong Qi, dinner's ready, go wash your face." His wife was especially happy today, and she cooked a table full of dishes herself
.
She kept putting food into his and Zhong Qi's bowls. "Try this, I haven't made it in a long time, I don't know if you still
like it?"
"By the way, how was your time with Wen Qing today? Did you have fun?"
Zhong Qi stuffed rice into his mouth, swallowed it, and then answered his wife's question. "Yeah, it was great, we played
basketball ."
"Really? That's good. Dad and Uncle Wen are good friends, you and Wen Qing should be good friends too,
help , okay?"
She was talking to Zhong Qi, but she was looking straight at him.
He placed a piece of food into his wife's bowl, smiling at her, "You've worked hard, eat more."
Zhong Ling felt like he was watching a joke about a seemingly perfect marriage, a loving father and son. An
invisible , with no connection between them. She gave a vicious sneer, almost vomiting, put down her bowl, and tossed her chopsticks onto
the table. "So salty! How much salt did they put in? It's awful."
His wife didn't even turn around. "Nobody told you to eat."
"I can't swallow it either,"
Zhong Ling said, leaving the house. He didn't return that night.
He went to sleep in the bedroom with his wife as if nothing had happened.
The next day, Zhong Ling didn't come home again, and he ignored her.
The third morning, he came out of the bedroom and saw Zhong Ling returning.
Zhong Ling looked up and met his eyes. She was overwhelmed by a mix of anger and resentment
; her eyes quickly reddened, her cheeks puffed out involuntarily, and her lips were tightly pursed. It took her a long time to finally utter,
"You stingy little thing!"
she scolded herself. "You're such a stingy little thing, why are you angry for so long? So annoying."
Not enough, not enough.
He was patient and tolerant enough to allow her to be spoiled and indulge her
tantrums , even finding humor in them. But he needed to teach his naive little lover a lesson; her wings
were far from enough to escape his grasp.
He allowed her to be disrespectful, but not lawless. Everything had its limits, especially one-sided
affection. She had to give the adults she played with fire a little sweetness in return.
He walked past Zhong Ling. "Go wash up now that you're back. Your mother made breakfast." Zhong
Ling quickly turned around, watching his retreating figure as he walked towards the dining table in disbelief.
He knew she was starting to panic.
Chapter 8 , Part
1.
That night, he was almost asleep, but his years of military reconnaissance experience made him acutely aware of
deliberately light footsteps outside the door. He pulled his wife, who was intentionally or unintentionally snuggling into his arms, down beneath him and
caressing her.
Like touching a burning ember, she cried out eagerly and joyfully.
This long-lost passion seemed to frighten the "little thief" eavesdropping outside; she was startled, even
accidentally kicking something away, and hurriedly ran to her bedroom.
He got up from his wife, turned on the bedside lamp, and pretended not to see her disappointed expression. "There's
a noise , I'll go check it out."
He opened the door and entered the dimly lit living room. Nothing was broken, but she seemed to have trampled on
Zhong Qi's craft project in her haste—a small wooden cart.
She had stepped on it, revealing some sharp splinters. He wondered if she was wearing shoes; if she
stubbornly , the spoiled little girl might not be able to go dancing for days.
He picked up the broken little wooden cart and laughed without warning.
The next day, Zhong Ling didn't go to school. She had cut her foot, the cut piercing the sole. She clumsily bandaged it herself,
the bandage becoming large and swollen, making her look utterly ridiculous.
Zhong Qi noticed it as soon as he woke up and wanted to take her to the doctor, but Wen Qing happened to be waiting for him at home.
His wife immediately scolded him and told him to hurry to school, so he had to run to the bedroom to get his little medicine box for her.
Zhong Ling, supporting herself on one leg, hopped to Wen Qing, who was waiting at the door. She crossed her arms confidently, glared at
him, and whispered, "Hey, I'm warning you, don't get any bad ideas about Zhong Qi!"
Wen Qing, still a young boy, had grown quickly and was already almost as tall as Zhong Ling. He was handsome, his head slightly
lowered as if he were listening intently to her. Only after she finished speaking did he raise his eyelids to look at her, seemingly not understanding
what she meant. He gave a humble smile, "Sister, what are you saying?" Just as
Zhong Ling was about to reply, Wen Qing called out to Zhong Qi, who was running out of the room carrying a medicine box, "Xiao Qi,
remember to take the basketball." Zhong Qi, as if waking from a dream, put down the medicine box, hurriedly grabbed the basketball,
picked up , and ran to the entryway to put on her shoes.
Wen Qing took his schoolbag and breakfast and waited for him. Zhong Qi kept talking, "Yesterday when I got home, I found
the basketball was too dirty, so I brushed it. Look, is it clean, A-Qing?" He picked up
the basketball from the ground and showed it to Wen Qing like a treasure.
Wen Qing smiled, "Well, actually, it's okay not to wash it."
Zhong Ling, annoyed by his embarrassment, slapped him on the head, "What idiot would wash a basketball every day?"
"But if I don't wash it, my hands will be very dirty next time I hit it, and my clothes will get dirty when I carry it." Zhong Qi
was very upset, feeling that he was right, and argued with her.
"Okay, okay, we're going to be late, let's go." Wen Qing reminded him.
Zhong Qi put on his shoes and was about to put on his schoolbag when Wen Qing said it was okay and told him to finish his breakfast first.
After saying goodbye to her, Zhong Qi told each of his family members that he was leaving, and then walked out with Wen Qing. "I brought
you two slices of bread with a fried egg in the middle, like a hamburger, haha... You're eating this? Oh, wrong, wrong
, this is mine, mine has blueberry jam."
Zhong Ling leaned against the door, furious, and secretly spat, "Idiot!"
He had returned home early that day because his wife was working overtime, and Zhong Qi had also returned late because he had played basketball with Wen Qing. He
wanted to give Zhong Ling a chance to atone.
But when he entered the foyer, he didn't see Zhong Ling. The maid had gone to buy groceries, and the house was quiet, as if no one was home. He
He casually tossed his coat onto the sofa, deliberately passing by Zhong Ling's bedroom, but found no one there.
Suspicious, he walked towards the study, and sure enough, the door was open. Zhong Ling was casually sprawled on his desk, cross-legged
, assembling something with wooden planks.
Zhong Ling noticed him enter, glanced up at him seemingly unintentionally, then looked down again.
Neither of them spoke. He turned to leave, but Zhong Ling suddenly called out to him, "You're back!"
Her sweet, clear voice, filled with joy, was like that of a newlywed wife.
The words, so ordinary, resonated subtly in his ears, warming his heart and
making it difficult for him to even take a step.
He slowly turned back. Zhong Ling rested her elbows on the table, cupping her cheeks, her eyes fixed
on him. Her cheekbones were full, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright and sparkling, making her appear even more charming and radiant—utterly
captivating.
Her lips pouted slightly, full and red, as she smiled at Zhong Pei. "Do you know what I'm doing?"
He guessed it; last night she had broken Zhong Qi's handmade wooden cart and was making a new one for him.
She continued, "I've been waiting for you. You've only just returned; I've been waiting for so long."
He didn't know how to resist this cowardly yet skillful flirting. He still remembered his original intention, but he
didn't leave or say anything.
Zhong Ling leaned back off the chair, hopping and skipping to him on one leg. Only then did he see that Zhong Ling was wearing her
ballet leotard, revealing half of her back and two long, fair legs. The leotard was tight, cinching her slender
body, outlining her thin waist, pert buttocks, and soft breasts.
She pulled his hand to wrap around her waist, looked up at him, and asked, "Does it look good?"
Her legs were injured, so she struggled to cling to his neck, gently swaying. "Don't you like it?"
He didn't react for a long time. She seemed angry, her face scrunching up. "You were watching me intently that day
, weren't you looking at me?!"
He slowly closed his eyes, remembering his conversation with Wen Yingsheng, who had laughed and replied,
"You're a soldier, don't you understand this? A balance of giving and taking makes for a tighter grip."
Zhong Ling hugged his waist tightly, her fluffy head nuzzling against his chest, her breath hot on his heart,
apologizing repeatedly, "I was wrong, I was wrong, I won't do it again, please forgive me, just this once?"
He was just an ordinary man, and his sweetheart, whom he cherished, nestled in his arms, apologizing softly
, saying she would never do it again. How could he resist?
He grabbed Zhong Ling's buttocks, lifted her up, and kissed her fiercely, sucking on her lips. Zhong Ling
laughed and joked, bursts of laughter flowing from their intertwined lips, their tongues mingling hotly
in their kiss.
His hands pinched her fleshy buttocks, sliding down to her legs, but reaching straight for her exposed vulva. He hadn't
expected her to be so bold as to cut open the crotch of her workout clothes.
Zhong Ling's eyes were filled with arrogant pride, her waist twisting wildly, pushing her vulva towards his palm.
He turned and locked the study door, then unzipped his pants. His monstrous, hot, thick penis sprang out, forcing its way into
Zhong Ling's wet vulva. The glans, spurting semen, and the raging shaft burned her, making her cry out, moaning and begging him to come in quickly.
He slowly pressed against Zhong Ling's vaginal opening, then, with a mixture of slow, deliberate maneuvering and eager anticipation, thrust his hot, hard penis into her tight passage
. Zhong Ling clung to him, feeling as if she were being pierced, her mouth agape as she let out a few satisfied sighs.
He tossed her up, gathering his strength to thrust into her delicate womb again and again, until she convulsed, her mind reeling
, crying as if she wanted to die in his arms.
Zhong Ling was pressed down on the sofa, her legs spread wide to receive his fierce thrusts. Her small vulva was red and
swollen from the penetration, a mess, her vaginal fluids squeezed out, flowing down her buttocks and onto the sofa, staining her
bottom .
This time, she was very obedient, neither hitting nor biting him, her small mouth only uttering soft moans,
unable to utter any annoying nonsense.
He bent down and gently bit her nose, which was red from crying. Zhong Ling clung to his neck and kissed his
chin, her eyes misty with tears as she spoke with difficulty, "You can't... you
can't blame me anymore, for being stingy, ah, slower, um, you're killing me..."
Chapter 9, Part
1.
They made up, but he still slept in the master bedroom, sharing a bed with his wife.
The study was their main place for sex and flirting. Zhong Ling had truly learned her lesson; at least she
was much more obedient in front of him.
He lifted the docile Zhong Ling onto his lap, his hand slipping inside her clothes, kneading her tender breasts, pinching and
gently . Zhong Ling leaned into his arms, smirking and spitting at him, "You old lecher."
These three words weren't really a derogatory term to him; on the contrary, he loved hearing Zhong Ling call him that.
The overwhelming passion and fervor all stemmed from these three taboo and immoral words.
He buried his face in her slender neck, biting and sucking, his hands pinching her nipples harder. Zhong Ling struggled,
moaning with a mixture of pain and pleasure.
As usual, he picked Zhong Ling up from school. Sometimes, when it was early, they could indulge in some tender moments. He loved
hearing Zhong Ling cry out, "You're killing me..."
Zhong Ling had many tricks up her sleeve. Sometimes, when he picked her up from the dance studio, she would drag him along until everyone had left, then lock
the door and they would have sex in front of the large dance mirror.
That day, he was practically insane. Zhong Ling was fucked beyond recognition. Her labia,
rubbed , were stretched wide, trembling and constantly dripping wet.
She lay on the barre, her buttocks heaving from the thrusts, her nipples red and swollen. Her vision was obscured by the moisture, and she was so
dazed she almost thought she was going blind.
He saw Zhong Ling's legs spread wide in the mirror, a long, ugly, black instrument thrusting in and out between her thighs. She looked like she was being forcibly raped by
a wild beast , slowly closing her eyes. The moans that escaped her lips and the sounds of flesh colliding
were particularly clear in the empty dance studio.
There had been two large-scale military exercises, and a serious accident had occurred. He rushed there that afternoon and didn't return until the third
evening , even missing dinner. Zhong Qi said Zhong Ling was in the bedroom.
Afraid of disturbing her, and also exhausted, he quickly washed up and went to bed, his wife sleeping peacefully
beside him. He quickly fell asleep, but was awakened by a soft rustling sound half an hour later. Something snuggled into his arms.
He opened his eyes to see Zhong Ling lying between his arms, looking up at him with a smile, her hands tightly wrapped around his waist,
playfully whispering, "Shh."
Zhong Ling saw him looking dazed, as if he hadn't woken up yet, and smiled at him, planting a kiss on his dry lips.
He finally snapped out of it, leaning close to her ear and whispering, "How did you get here?"
The warm breath tickled her ear, making Zhong Ling shrink back. She replied playfully, "Guess!"
"How did you get in?"
Zhong Ling's eyes darted around, pointing to the bed frame, "Under the bed."
They stared at each other for a moment, then he suddenly pulled her closer, trapping her between his legs, half-pressing her down to kiss her. Zhong
Ling stretched out her tongue and licked his chin, her soft, smooth tongue sweeping across his face, as if kissing his heart,
hot and burning.
Zhong Ling's hand reached down, slipping into his pajama bottoms, grasping his half-erect penis and starting to stroke it. He lifted Zhong
Ling up a little, his hand kneading her soft breasts through her clothes, kissing the top of her head.
His wife's steady breathing, reaching his ears, acted like an aphrodisiac, arousing him to a fever
pitch .
Afraid of losing control and making a creaking noise against the bed, yet unable to resist any longer, he lifted Zhong Ling off the bed,
pulled a pillow down, placed it beneath her, and spread her legs. He sucked and licked her wet vulva a few times, making
her legs twitch, before burying his monstrous, hard member deep within her tender, tight flesh.
Zhong Ling bit her lip, shaking her head from side to side. He thrust so hard that her head nearly hit the bedside table. She
covered , afraid to scream, crying silently, her face streaked with tears, saliva dripping down her chin,
her body drenched in sweat.
The enormous head of his penis plunged into her cervix, as if tearing her apart. Her eyes widened, her jaw trembled, his eyes
reddened hips and abdomen into her fragile, sensitive core.
Zhong Ling's legs were crossed and draped over his waist, pressing against him as she hysterically cried out in his ear,
"Daddy!" He suddenly felt it was a dream; beneath him, Zhong Ling, disheveled and at his mercy, was a demon,
come to seduce his soul, drain his essence, and take his life.
He fell onto Zhong Ling, his still-heated body touching the floor, and he gradually came to his senses.
Shamelessly, he felt his first stirrings of love for his daughter, greedily wanting to possess her entirely.
This surging wave had been dormant within him for a long time, finally stirring, using the guise of sex
to wrap a complex, ethical, and unacknowledged love.
Shamelessly, his love for his own daughter.
He wanted to possess her, including her love.
Chapter
10.1
Zhong Ling was sick, perhaps because the floor was too cold at night, she sweated a lot, the temperature difference during the changing seasons was large, and
viruses were rampant.
He stayed with Zhong Ling for two days. The first day at the hospital, he held her up on the bed, wrapped his arms around her, and looked at
picture books with her. He tilted his head and kissed her temples from time to time, until she got annoyed and frowned , trying to avoid him
. The second day, after returning home, there was a military meeting in the evening, which was urgent. He really didn't want to go, even though Zhong Ling was almost recovered
. He still wanted to stay close to his rarely sick and weak little lover.
It wasn't until Zhong Ling pushed him away, telling him to hurry up and go to work, that he grabbed Zhong Ling's lips and kissed her fiercely until she curled up in his
arms and sobbed, calling him a "pervert" in a daze. Only then did he tuck her in and leave, satisfied
.
When his wife had her first miscarriage, he also stayed with her for two days. Logically, that was much more serious than Zhong Ling's cold,
but he had just received his mission notice and got up to leave. There was none of that so-called reluctance to part.
Only then did he realize that there really is a difference between loving and not loving someone. Everyone said he was inherently emotionally detached, indifferent
, and rigid, but it turned out that he just hadn't met Zhong Ling yet.
Why couldn't his first woman be Zhong Ling?
It was a paradox; Zhong Ling could never be his first woman because she herself came from his
union with another woman—she was his daughter.
When the meeting ended, it was already past eight in the evening. He was in a hurry to go home when his orderly reported that
Zhong Ling had arrived.
He rushed to find her and saw her wearing one of his coats, hunched over his desk, seemingly playing with something.
He went over and discovered a small, negative-sized group photo of all the division-level officers under his glass desk.
There was another framed photo on the counter behind him. That was four years ago, before he had risen to his current
position .
Zhong Ling also noticed him, smiling as she looked up at him, pointing to his face in the photo. "You were so handsome back then! I
didn't know soldiers could get fat! Look at these uncles' bellies, haha!" She
laughed heartily, as if she had found a great joke.
He was so awkward, unsure how to respond to her smiling face, only asking, "What are you doing here?
Are you all better?"
Zhong Ling turned to play with the pen on his desk, looking regretful. "I heard it's really fun when you have a fever, so I came
to try it out with you, but who knew I'd already recovered."
He touched her forehead; his rough palms were slightly damp. He gently scolded her for being silly, "You're not allowed to do anything reckless when you're sick
."
Zhong Ling peeled his hand off, lightly pulling his fingertips, hugging his waist, murmuring, "Pretentious."
That night, he and Zhong Ling didn't go home, sleeping in the military compound. Zhong Ling rested her head on his arm, clinging to him tightly
like , but Zhong Ling woke up in the middle of the night and started teasing him. They kissed
and ended up making love, with Zhong Ling holding him tightly to prevent him from leaving, his half-erect penis soaking in her tight, wet vagina
all night.
Zhong Ling was about to enter her senior year of high school, but she wasn't worried at all, living a carefree and unrestrained life. He certainly didn't care about her grades;
he'd much rather his unruly and bright little lover be more obedient. He had plenty of ways to get her into university.
During the first monthly exam of their senior year, he even attended Zhong Ling's parent-teacher conference. Zhong Ling was startled, as if she
hadn't expected him to go at all, and stood there dumbfounded for a long time, unsure how to speak.
While the teacher was speaking, Zhong Ling moved a small chair to sit next to him, secretly reaching for his hand,
beckoning him to come closer, and whispering, "I always feel like you're here to mess with me."
He glanced at Zhong Ling, his pupils flickering, then shook his head without saying a word.
When the parent-teacher conference ended, he and Zhong Ling walked out side by side, only to be stopped by the homeroom teacher, "Zhong Ling's father."
He saw Zhong Ling tremble almost imperceptibly, then awkwardly turn and follow behind him, head down and silent.
He greeted the homeroom teacher, a slightly overweight middle-aged woman. He had previously
sent her gifts a few times to get Zhong Ling to change seats and speak to her on the phone.
She enthusiastically told him about Zhong Ling's situation, praising her for her gradually improving grades, saying she was smart and obedient. After exchanging
a few more pleasantries, they left.
Zhong Ling felt awkward and scoffed at her homeroom teacher, "What nonsense is she spouting? Nonsense,
ridiculous."
"She's right, this time it's higher than the final exam."
Zhong Ling stopped walking and asked him, "How do you know?"
He turned around to wait for her, "I have to see your report card."
"What's there to see?"
"I have to see it, to know how you're doing."
Zhong Ling stiffened her neck and walked to his side, putting her hand in his large palm, muttering, "You're really bored."
Her palm was soft, gently rubbing his fingertips, like a spark igniting a quiet explosion in his heart.
He let Zhong Ling pull him along, and they walked to the car.
When they got home, there wasn't much anyone there yet. She called loudly for the maid's name at the door, and when no one answered,
she jumped onto his back, asking him to carry her.
He lifted her by the bottom, raising her slightly on his back, and carried her into the house. Zhong Ling buried her face in his shoulder,
silent, then suddenly began to sob softly, her tears wetting his clothes and touching his skin.
He carried her to her bedroom and told her, "I'll come every time."
Zhong Ling's throat was tight from suppressing her sobs, her voice hoarse. "Who told you to come?"
He kissed away her tears, their foreheads touching. "I wanted to go myself, okay?"
Zhong Ling pulled his cheeks to either side, her tears turning into laughter, and leaned in to kiss him. Their breaths mingled, hot and passionate
. "No, it was me who told you to go!"
Zhong Ling finally began to take her studies seriously. Her ever-present picture books had mysteriously transformed into reference books. She slumped
on the sofa in his study, impatiently starting to read, sometimes reading aloud softly, unconsciously memorizing.
As soon as he approached, she nonchalantly tossed the book aside, as if she'd never read it, and kicked wildly,
pretending to kick him and tell him to leave.
The fact that he was sleeping in the master bedroom with his wife was like a fishbone stuck in Zhong Ling's heart, but she didn't say anything. Only
the next day did she sneakily stop him, her hand unexpectedly slipping inside his pants, grasping his morning erection, half-
pinching the glans and warning him, "Let me tell you, don't feed my thing to Yang Qinru."
He just wanted to give her a threat; if she was obedient, he would give her whatever she wanted; if she wasn't, he
would truly abandon her and become that cold, authoritative patriarch again.
Of course, it was just to scare her. He and his wife hadn't had sex for a year. After being rejected several times when she tried to seduce him,
she seemed to have noticed something, but she didn't say anything. Their relationship had truly cooled, with almost no communication, like two bombs without
a lit fuse, sleeping in the same bed but dreaming different dreams. Besides, she had been frequently away on business trips lately, and he had basically been sleeping
with .
This was a gamble he orchestrated, with himself as the stake, betting that Zhong Ling wouldn't dare abandon him as his biggest
shield .
Zhong Ling was easily swayed by this; his insecurity and fear of losing him made her uneasy, as if she were afraid his wife would take him away, so she always
did many things to keep him.
She was the most adept at playing tricks. When she was in a good mood, she would chew strawberries and feed them to him, then gently lick his
tongue and kiss him. She would even hide under his desk and play breast play with him, her two tender pink breasts sandwiching his thick,
dark penis, making him almost dizzy with pleasure.
She had made plans to go swimming with her classmates, bringing many swimsuits to his room. His wife wasn't home, so she just naturally
went into the master bedroom. She loved shopping, buying many swimsuits of various styles, piling them on the bed, and changing them in front of him,
trying them on one by one for him to see.
"Is this okay?" She was wearing a two-piece swimsuit with a short skirt that covered her round, perky
buttocks. Her bra looked like it wasn't on properly; she adjusted the straps, twirled twice, and the skirt drew two circles in the air
before falling back down.
He pulled her close, one hand around her slender waist, his fingers sliding along her bare back, following the grooves, and
slipping inside her swimsuit. His middle finger traced the cleft of her buttocks, probing her small anus.
Zhong Ling shuddered, reaching out to hug him. He said in a hoarse voice, "Don't go."
At first, Zhong Ling didn't agree, but later, after being fucked to the point of being unable to speak, she cried and begged him repeatedly, saying
she wouldn't go.
When it was finally over, Zhong Ling collapsed onto the bed, completely unconscious, her eyes swollen from crying, her face
streaked with tears, her legs wide open, her groins covered in bruises, twitching slightly, saliva constantly dripping from the corners of her mouth,
her dazed state fully exposed.
He wet a towel and gently wiped her body.
Chapter
11.
The upheaval occurred in winter, during the final semester of Zhong Ling's senior year of high school. The weather was extremely unpredictable, and Zhong Ling
fell ill several times, suffering from fever, colds, and stomach problems, including vomiting and diarrhea, making him very irritable.
Around the same time, he discovered his wife's infidelity; the evidence was irrefutable, and he slammed the photos on the table.
His wife was terrified and initially apologized.
She was panicked and sorrowful, her mouth opening and closing, unable to say anything. "Zhong Pei, Zhong Pei, it's not like that
." Her face was dazed, and she swallowed several times, unlike her usual capable and composed self. "I drank too much that day
, I really drank too much. He, he forced me. I didn't know it would happen like this. Zhong Pei, please forgive me, I
love you..."
"Oh? If that's the case, why cheat for four months?" He picked up the remote control, randomly pressing buttons and
changing channels, looking very agitated.
"He, I... I just..." She was suddenly exposed and couldn't say anything to defend herself
.
"He was your college classmate, wasn't he?"
"Zhong Pei, listen to me..." She shook her head, tears slowly streaming down her face, feeling as if she had been unjustly
slandered by the whole world.
Seeing his lack of reaction, she grew impatient, her suppressed emotions finally breaking. She retorted, "And what about you?
What about yourself? Haven't you cheated on me?"
"Me? Where's your evidence?" He gripped the remote, his eyes fixed on the television, and retorted.
"For a year and a half, besides sleeping in the same bed, we haven't had any physical contact.
Don't I know what you were like before? Have you been celibate for the past year and a half? It's either me or another woman, and now you're questioning
me?"
"Say it again, where's the evidence?"
"Evidence? You say evidence? What evidence do you need? What woman doesn't know when her man cheats?"
"Besides, you're too obvious, Zhong Pei. You didn't even bother to lie to me!" Seeing that Zhong Pei remained silent, she felt
she was in the right again. "Tell me? Why? Why can you cheat on me, go find other women, while I have to
endure loneliness? Let me tell you, Zhong Pei, there's no such thing as a free lunch."
He finally put down the remote control, looked up at his wife, whose face was almost contorted with rage and madness. "Why?
Because my surname is Zhong, my name is Zhong Pei." He paused. "Are you going to argue with me?"
Yang Qinru finally realized, what was she talking about fairness with Zhong Pei? How could she talk about fairness with Zhong Pei? Everyone
's background and status were different, even after marriage, they were still different.
"Let's get a divorce."
Yang Qinru's eyes widened. She couldn't get a divorce. She had come this far because she couldn't do without the Zhong family,
and she absolutely couldn't do without Zhong Pei. "Zhong Pei, I beg you, don't say those two words, don't say them. I was really wrong."
At first, she had just been holding back her anger for too long, and all she wanted was to vent her anger and make Zhong Pei regret it. She had completely forgotten about
all that else was going on.
He was annoyed by her rambling excuses and got up to leave. She grabbed his hand and held on tightly, even accidentally
bumping into the fruit plate on the coffee table, causing the apples to roll to the floor.
She cried and gasped, "Zhong Pei, Zhong Pei, look at me, I beg you, I can't live without you. Think about
all these years we've been together, our child..." She finally remembered something, as if she had found a savior, "We
still have Zhong Qi. He's so young. What will happen to him if we get a divorce? He's so well-behaved. If he... if he
..."
Now, she only remembered this one child. She didn't know that his insistence on divorcing her was
for the sake of another child.
Someone pushed the door open and came in. Zhong Qi's voice hadn't started to change yet, and it was still a very tender child's voice. "I'm back," he called out to the door,
"See you tomorrow, A-Qing."
She hurriedly ran over and dragged Zhong Qi, who was changing his shoes, towards her. Zhong Qi still had one shoe on
, and she pulled him around, making him bounce. Her ferocious appearance startled Zhong Qi. As she dragged him along, he weakly called out, "Mom?"
Yang Qinru's eye makeup was smeared with tears, haphazardly covering her face, and her expression was terrifying. She pushed Zhong Qi in front of him.
"Look, Zhong Pei, look, Zhong Qi is still so young. How can you bear to leave him?"
He remained unmoved and insisted on leaving.
She frantically shoved Zhong Qi's shoulder, "Say something! Tell Daddy that Mommy was wrong, that you
don't want Mommy and Daddy to divorce, okay? Be good, tell Daddy now!"
Zhong Qi was terrified, his shoulder aching from the shove. "What's wrong?"
"What are you asking! Stop asking, just tell Daddy!" She almost coaxed him, but seeing the stunned Zhong Qi
unresponsive , she slapped him hard across the face in anger. "Say it now!"
she cried out hysterically, her expression frantic.
Everyone knew she had married into the Zhong family, and that she had given Zhong Pei his only son. How much effort had she put in to marry into a high-ranking family that
others n't even dare to dream of, marrying Zhong Pei, the man with the best career prospects, and naturally becoming the young mistress of the Zhong family,
with all doors open to her?
How many people had she offended in the business world by relying on the Zhong family? Now that she had lost power, how many people would want to trample on her?
Having been on top of the world, she never wanted to be trampled on again.
"Yang Qinru! Don't touch the child!" He reached out to pull Zhong Qi towards him, but Yang Qinru grabbed him
and pulled him away.
Yang Qinru was driven mad by the torment; the immense psychological agony had driven her mad. She picked up
a fruit knife lying on the ground, the one Zhong Ling loved to use to peel apples, leaving long, unbroken strips.
She held the knife to Zhong Qi's face and backed away step by step.
Zhong Qi's face turned pale as he was dragged along. He didn't know what was happening; his beloved mother was holding a knife to him.
He was young and innocent, unable to process what was happening. Tears welled up silently. "Mommy, Mommy
..."
"Zhong Pei, look at him! Zhong Qi is your son, your only son! How could you bear to do this?" She
backed away step by step, shaking her head as she tried to reason with him. The
maid hiding in the kitchen came out and was startled. She covered her mouth and screamed, but no one paid her any attention.
He knew how to kick the knife out of Yang Qinru's hand or rush forward to snatch it away, but the blade
was too close to Zhong Qi's face, and he was afraid of hurting the child.
Yang Qinru was wary of his movements. "Don't come any closer, I know you're very strong, Zhong Qi..."
He hesitated for a moment, deciding to calm her down first, and risked taking the knife away. Just then, he saw Wen Qing
return , holding a peach wood stick that the gardener had chopped down in the yard, walking slowly behind Yang Qinru along the wall.
He nodded to Wen Qing, then turned to attract her attention, and spoke again to his wife, who was completely unconscious
, "Qinru, listen to me..."
She grinned, her gums showing, her eyes bloodshot, and shouted at him, "I don't want to listen! I'm telling
you, I'd rather die than get a divorce! I won't let you have your way! You did it on purpose! It's all your fault..." Wen Qing struck her on the back of the neck with the stick
, knocking her unconscious.
Zhong Qi was so frightened that he fell down, and Wen Qing caught him, his face deathly pale. Her lips moved slightly, as if she
were saying something.
His wife and Zhong Qi had been taken to the hospital together. Zhong Qi was in shock, Yang Qinru was still unconscious, he was instructing
his lawyer to expedite the divorce, and he also had to discuss the leadership transition with Wen Yingsheng. There were too many things to do at this time, so when Zhong
Ling told him she wanted to go back alone, he agreed, but he was still worried, so he arranged for
someone to take her.
However, for the first two days after she arrived, he called her but no one answered. He assumed it was due to poor signal in the mountains
and didn't think much of it.
Almost a week later, after he had just finalized the divorce papers, there was still no word from her. He was furious and had someone
investigate, only to discover that she hadn't returned at all; her uncle also said she hadn't come back.
Zhong Ling had disappeared. Chapter Twelve (The End)
1.
When he received the call, he almost crushed the teacup in his hand. Boiling water spilled, covering his hands, and shards of porcelain
embedded themselves in his flesh, but he seemed oblivious, even his tone remaining calm. He simply ordered people to search, to turn the place upside down,
to find her.
She hadn't used her ID or withdrawn money with her card; she probably took a car
. She'd been on the run for a week; how could they possibly find her? For the past few months, he'd been clueless. That anxiety hadn't lessened with time; instead, it
burned ever brighter. Every moment of relaxation felt like sitting on pins and needles.
The anger of betrayal engulfed him, followed by the desolation of being abandoned. He had clearly told himself to...
He held Zhong Ling tightly in his hand, and he clearly succeeded in doing so. Although he couldn't tell if Zhong Ling harbored romantic
feelings for him, perhaps it was just a projection of paternal love, her dependence on him was indelible.
She had been completely raised as a pampered young lady, untouched by worldly cares, knowing nothing but dancing, wanting the best
of , with a terrible temper and a fierce nature—who could tolerate her?
Why did she run away? Did she see him as a disgusting old man who had violated her daughter? Or as
a high barrier imprisoning her freedom and defiling her innocence? Did she even for a second attribute his feelings for her to love? It was
almost four months before they found her, or rather, them, along with another man—
the rock singer who had performed at the bar.
They had disappeared together, and it was because of the man's credit card transaction records that they were traced here. This was
the first time they had used the card; they probably ran out of cash.
He was completely oblivious at the time, staring at the photo in the envelope for a long time without moving. Zhong Ling was pregnant; her belly was protruding
, very obviously.
He let out a long sigh, and when he stood up again, his legs were numb. He came out of the study; the maid
had called him to dinner. The house was empty; only he was there.
Zhong Ling had run away. He felt guilty after all. When he divorced Yang Qinru, he had paid her a large sum of money.
She had moved to a city in the south, and sometimes she was still delirious and very fragile. Zhong Qi was still awarded to the Zhong family
, but he decided to go and be with his mother. He came to him, and he agreed.
He didn't want to go and bring Zhong Ling back; he would let her stay there. Since he loved her, whether as a father or the
one who had destroyed her innocence, he shouldn't ruin her life again.
When he arrived in Zhong Ling's city, it was afternoon. The convection was strong, and there was a heavy downpour. He didn't ask anyone to follow him;
he followed behind Zhong Ling himself, watching her, head tilted to the side, carrying an umbrella, stumbling out of the supermarket, carrying groceries,
crossing the sidewalk, and entering a dilapidated little apartment. The walls of the hallway were almost yellowish-brown with dirt,
very damp, and the air was hot and stuffy. He stared intently at Zhong Ling's feet, afraid she might slip and fall.
Zhong Ling stopped on the third floor, put down the groceries at the door, her hair and shoulders almost completely soaked, then took her
keys , inserted them into the keyhole, and opened the door. Her belly was so large that bending over was difficult, so she picked up the plastic bag
and went back inside.
He stood there watching for a long time. It turned out she wasn't incapable of hardship; she just couldn't endure hardship with him. He
had been presumptuous in thinking Zhong Ling wasn't the kind of girl who could be content with just love, but it turned out she simply hadn't met her true love.
She had endured hardship with him, lived with him in their cramped quarters, gone out to buy groceries for him in the rain while pregnant, and now she was going to cook for him.
The moment he saw through her, he was panicked, overwhelmed with mixed emotions, his fingertips trembling. His face was dry, but the rain
seemed to penetrate the wall, falling into his eyes, making them well up with tears.
Someone had uprooted the rose he had planted in his heart, leaving a void. He stared at the door for a long time until
someone came down from upstairs, then slowly moved his feet and walked away in a daze.
He returned home but went straight to the military region, not returning for two months. Following the army's schedule, he planned to forget
this ridiculous, twisted relationship that only he himself acknowledged, even if it was incredibly difficult.
He had nothing to do and hadn't had much contact with the outside world for over two months. He arranged to meet Wen Yingsheng,
but it was already past ten o'clock when they left. He decided to go home anyway to get some seasonal clothes, as he might stay until the end of the year
.
The car headlights shone on his front door, and he vaguely saw a small shadow. He blinked hard a few times to make sure someone was crouching
there .
Zhong Ling, who had already fallen asleep, was awakened by the car headlights. She stood up and looked in his direction, but because the headlights were too
bright, she shielded her eyes and turned her head haphazardly.
She was wearing a loose long dress and sandals, appearing pale and yellowish in the car light. She was very
thin, except for a prominently protruding belly.
Zhong Ling went home without a reason. She didn't say anything, and of course, he didn't dare ask, afraid of scaring her away again.
They just lived like this, inexplicably.
She was heavily pregnant and didn't go anywhere, staying in her room looking at picture books, rarely leaving the house.
He had dismissed the housekeeper; Zhong Ling wasn't old, and having a child wouldn't be a good thing if word got out. The Zhong family's
recent troubles had been the talk of the town, and he himself had been caught in the eye of the storm, so he didn't care about such things anymore,
only that Zhong Ling might overthink and feel uncomfortable.
He tried his best to act like a father, cooking when he had time, and ordering food to be delivered to her when he was too busy.
One time he came home late, and the lights were off when he entered. When he turned them back on, he saw food left on the table,
still warm, clearly recently reheated. It was the first time he had tasted his daughter's cooking; it was neither too salty nor too bland, but tasted
alright—something she had learned to cook outside.
So this was what it felt like to be a parent; a sense of loss washed over him.
He hadn't paid much attention to Yang Qinru's childbirth and didn't remember much, but he did remember that she went for regular prenatal
checkups. Zhong Ling was over eight months pregnant. He knocked on her bedroom door and found it unlocked. Zhong Ling was lying on the bed with her back
to him. He hesitated for a long time before speaking, "Do you want to go for a prenatal checkup tomorrow?"
Zhong Ling didn't answer for a long time, and he even thought she was asleep. "No."
"Go, I'll go with you."
Zhong Ling huddled under the covers, seemingly extremely resistant to the idea, her words slurred, "No, I won't go, leave
me alone!"
Seeing that Zhong Ling was emotional, he stopped talking and just stood at the door, watching her slowly calm down before half-closing
the door and leaving. He couldn't sleep at all and sat in the living room all night.
When Zhong Ling gave birth, she insisted on a natural birth. She was in so much pain that her face was covered in tears. She couldn't bite down
on the towel, so she bit his arm hard, just like when he stopped her from arguing with Yang Qinru. She bit so hard that her teeth dug into
his flesh.
Zhong Ling was willing to endure such pain for someone. She gave birth for over three hours, suffering two leg cramps that left a deep mark on his
arm .
It was a boy, very chubby, almost seven pounds. Zhong Ling was so thin; it turned out the baby had taken all her nutrients. Zhong Ling
fainted from the pain immediately after giving birth, not even having a chance to see her child. When she woke up the next day,
she struggled to sit up and asked him, "Baby, baby, how are you?"
"I'm fine, very good."
Zhong Ling's eyes quickly reddened, and the next question was difficult to ask, "Is...is there anything wrong with him?"
He comforted his weak daughter, "Nothing wrong at all, very healthy, and quite chubby."
Zhong Ling's fingernails scratched incessantly on the sheets, leaving white streaks; she seemed to be using a great deal of force.
She was so nervous that the veins on the back of her hands and neck bulged. She asked him again, "Really, you're not sick at all?"
"I've had the tests done, and everything's fine."
Zhong Ling finally seemed to exhale the breath that had been stuck in her chest. Tears rolled down her cheeks, hot and wet, staining
the sheets. "Very good, very good..."
She cried and laughed at the same time, unsure whether it was joy or sorrow. "Come here," she suddenly said to him.
He slowly leaned down, and Zhong Ling grabbed his collar tightly. "Zhong Pei, I, I..." Her throat bobbed
a few times before she could finish her sentence. "I gave birth to your child." It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck the back of his head.
His pupils contracted rapidly, and he stared in disbelief at Zhong Ling's pale, sickly face. "Mine?"
Zhong Ling's lips curled into a smirk. She was laughing, a twisted kind of pleasure. "Did Yang Qinru think only she could give you a child
? I can too, ha."
"Mine? You mean mine?" He still couldn't believe what Zhong Ling was saying and
shook .
"I'm telling you, Zhong Pei, I've only ever opened my legs for you in my entire life, and you don't believe me..."
Before she could finish speaking, he pulled her into a tight embrace, so tight that her shoulders were forced upwards. His
voice was hoarse and strained, carrying a heavy weight. "How dare you?"
Zhong Ling, held in his arms, slowly, slowly began to cry. How could she dare?
She couldn't. From the moment she discovered she didn't have gastroenteritis, but was carrying a life within her, she had been filled with unease
. She was only eighteen, pregnant with her own father's child. How could she dare?
She didn't want to abort the child, and without even saying a word to him, she ran away, "wandering the world" with Wei Jinyi, who suspected her of being too
promiscuous having contracted HIV.
How terrified she was! She insisted on giving birth to this unethical child, afraid to go for prenatal checkups, spending her days curled up in bed, afraid to think about
anything . She was fearful and hesitant; even a second of thought made her tremble with anxiety.
"You didn't come to see me! I wore such ugly clothes, ate such terrible food, lived in such a dilapidated house, and you
still didn't come to see me..." Zhong Ling cried, blaming him. Her hands kept hitting his back, breaking down
the high wall of ethics he had painstakingly erected.
She filled the hole in his heart with her own hands, using the fertile soil to nurture a delicate rose, and then planted herself in it.
I went to see you. I saw you carrying groceries into the dilapidated building, going up the long stairs, and towards a
rusty iron door. I thought you were going to go into that old house, to have children for another man, and to cook and
clean.
"I love you," he heard himself say.
Extra Chapter: Breastfeeding
1
When Zhong Ling returned from the hospital, he had already moved to another place and hired two new maids, quiet and sharp-tongued
, hardworking, and experienced in childcare.
When he entered the bedroom, he saw Zhong Ling with her back to him, lifting her clothes to breastfeed the child.
He walked over, and Zhong Ling turned around to look at him, then angrily craned her neck to quickly look at the child. Zhong Ling's
entire belly and one breast were exposed. The baby's mouth was sucking hard on her nipple. Zhong Ling felt a little pain,
frowned, and glared angrily at the baby's mouth as it sucked vigorously. "You little rascal, don't you know how to be gentle?
How long were you starving before you were reincarnated?"
He chuckled softly, reaching out to touch the baby's head. The baby's baby hair had been shaved off, and even the longest hair was thin and soft,
as if it couldn't suckle anymore. The baby kicked wildly, hitting Zhong Ling's stomach. Zhong Ling was annoyed and hit his
round feet.
The baby was about to cry, and he coaxed him softly, "Oh, don't cry, don't cry."
His hand moved up to Zhong Ling's exposed breast, which was fuller and more prominent due to engorgement
. He ran a few fingers around the nipple and gently pressed down. Zhong Ling gasped and then gasped.
He pinched the areola and squeezed it slightly, forcing the milky white milk into the baby's mouth. He
watched as the child ate, the baby's rosy lips biting the nipple, tiny hands protecting it, sucking so hard that it choked.
He spat out the nipple, the milky white fluid splashing around its mouth and staining the baby's chin.
He knelt before Zhong Ling, his rough fingers blocking the leaking nipple, the delicate pink areola darkened by the baby's sucking
, milk clinging to the teeth marks, alluringly alluring.
He slowly kneaded the nipple, then leaned in to kiss Zhong Ling's panting, ecstatic mouth, their tongues intertwining intimately,
their tongues swirling wildly in each other's mouths. Zhong Ling squinted, saliva constantly being sucked into his mouth. Holding
the baby in the recliner, kissed by him.
The two of them, their lips and tongues locked, breaths mingling, burning with desire. He eagerly tore at
her clothes, ripping open her collar, biting from her chin down to her collarbone, leaving a long, sticky, ambiguous trail of moisture.
He bit too hard, and Zhong Ling was in pain. She glanced at him, half-resentful and half-scolding. "Slow down, he's asleep."
He took the child out and handed him to the maid, letting her watch over him.
Zhong Ling's clothes weren't even down yet; instead, they were completely lifted up, leaving her exposed.
Two swollen nipples stood out starkly on her two plump, white breasts. "What are you looking at? Your son bit me so hard, aren't you
going to come comfort me?"
He swallowed hard a few times, staring intently at Zhong Ling's breasts. He strode over, knelt
between , embraced her slender waist, buried his face between her breasts, and inhaled deeply, the warm fragrance of breast milk filling his
nostrils.
He then slowly kissed down from her cleavage to her navel, licking her entire lower abdomen until it was wet.
Zhong Ling grabbed his hair, her breathing becoming heavy and labored.
He took a large bite of her nipple, sucking the flesh inside, his tongue pressing against the milk duct, gently and
carefully savoring the lukewarm milk, making a slightly ambiguous, wet sound, like a child. One hand reached under her lower body, rubbing against her
half-wet panties, twisting and pulling at her erect clitoris.
Zhong Ling squeezed her legs together, letting out some wanton moans. He rubbed his face against her breasts, soft and fragrant,
calling her indistinctly, "Little Mommy."
Everything was in chaos, completely in chaos. Morals and social norms had been abandoned.
Zhong Ling trembled violently, leaning back in resistance. He reached down and pulled down her pants,
spreading , exposing her entire mons pubis. Because her legs were spread so wide, her vulva even parted,
revealing her swollen clitoris and the slightly protruding flesh of her vulva.
He looked up at Zhong Ling's reddened eyes, his nimble, wet tongue slipping inside, sucking and licking her fleshy lips, then
penetrating her tight passage, tirelessly sucking and stirring.
Zhong Ling's lower body was overflowing with lustful fluids, writhing and screaming as his terrifying lips and tongue sucked at her, biting her fingers, crying and screaming...
Her body was flushed pink, beautiful yet wanton. He pinched her clitoris, constantly drinking the juices gushing from her vagina, like an endless
tide , all of it going into his mouth. He called her again, "Little Mommy."
Then he buried his head between her legs, sucking hard and passionately. Zhong Ling's eyes widened, his waist arched upwards, his legs throbbing
. Something gushed out from her abdomen, and she cried out in a high-pitched voice, "Ah, I'm going to come, um..." His
thick, long penis, bursting with semen, parted her two thick labia and thrust into her still-squirting and contracting vagina,
pounding and whipping it forcefully. Zhong Ling's head was pressed against the back of the chair, his lower body filled to the brim, almost overflowing.
He picked her up and pressed her against the cold wall, using his insatiable penis to fuck her until she cried out in
orgasm. Her poor, narrow vaginal walls contracted repeatedly, gripping his burning desire as he drove her deeper, making him feel so good that his scalp
tingled.
After his tubal ligation, he developed a fanatical obsession with ejaculating inside Zhong Ling. His thick, hard glans pressed against her cervix,
his scalding semen washing over her tender, sensitive uterine walls in waves, seemingly endless. He
filled Zhong Ling with his semen, making her concave abdomen swell up, round and plump.
Zhong Ling clung to his shoulders, convulsing violently, crying until her voice was hoarse, her eyes rolling back, her nails
digging his flesh, as if in a frenzy.
She was dehydrated, her hair sticking to her face with sweat, her face streaked with tears, utterly powerless, letting him thrust into her back and forth
, her buttocks red from the impact, her legs trembling.
At times like this, Zhong Ling couldn't eat anything. He chewed some chocolate chips and fed them to her, Zhong Ling
closing her eyes savoring the slightly bitter sweetness on his tongue.
She woke up, but then got angry again. "Why did you feed me chocolate? I'll get so fat tonight."
"Fat? Who's thinner than you?" He reached under the covers and touched her belly, which was swollen from his ejaculation.
"Everyone's thinner than me! I'm just fat! How can I go dancing with this much fatter body?" Zhong Ling
persisted , grabbing his hand that was moving over her stomach and trying to bite him again.
She bared her teeth and claws for a while, but only ground them together. Then she touched the deep teeth mark on his arm.
"It's still there?"
"It won't go away. I bit you so hard that day, and you even drank some of it. I wanted to switch hands, but you wouldn't let me, so I just kept biting
here."
Zhong Ling laughed triumphantly. "You deserve it!"
He bent down and kissed the corner of Zhong Ling's mouth, as if resigned to his fate. "I deserve it."
"It's all your fault. If it weren't for having a baby, this wouldn't have gotten so big." Zhong Ling pressed
her annoyed.
In his mind, women all wanted larger breasts, but Zhong Ling vehemently disliked them, which puzzled him.
He asked her, "Isn't it good?"
"What's good about it? It's hideous! It makes me look fat and clumsy when I dance. I don't even dare wear my practice clothes anymore!"
She was extremely annoyed and couldn't help but punch his chest.
"No, it's very pretty. How about you try it on tomorrow?"
Zhong Ling seemed to see right through him, turning her head away disdainfully. "No way! Do you think I don't know
what ? You old pervert!" Zhong Ling
was exceptionally beautiful when she was angry. Her cheeks flushed red, tinged with pink, her eyes were dark and round, and her lips
were pursed , making her look vibrant and bright, incredibly
charming. She wanted to dance; she loved dancing.
Zhong Ling missed last year's college entrance exam. He asked her again, "Do you still want to study?"
Zhong Ling hesitated for a moment, then became assertive, "Of course I do! I don't want to spend my whole life taking care of your
kids !"
"What school do you want to go to? Dance?"
Zhong Ling didn't speak for a long time, then asked him, "What school did you go to?"
"I went to a military academy, of course." He laughed.
Zhong Ling nestled against his chest, startled by his laughter, and covered her mouth to stop him from speaking. "Then you must have
terrible grades, you're illiterate!"
He laughed again, and Zhong Ling felt guilty under his smiling eyes, so she withdrew her hand. "I'm not
illiterate , really. I still have a lot of my certificates and awards at the ancestral home. You can go and take a look next time."
"I don't want to go there!"
"Then I'll bring them back for you?"
Zhong Ling glared at him, then buried her head in the blanket again. "I don't want to see them, you arrogant brat, you just love to show off."
He didn't know how to react. "Okay, I'm arrogant. Do you want me to find a teacher to help you review?"
Zhong Ling's lips were pressed against his chest, her soft lips occasionally brushing against his skin. Her voice was
muffled under the blanket. "I don't want to review. I don't want to read."
"Okay, then let's go straight to school. Think carefully about which school you want to go to. But, you have to stay in our
city, okay?"
Zhong Ling raised her chin and smiled with satisfaction. "That's more like it."
He picked Zhong Ling up and pulled her into his arms. "Let's sleep."
Zhong Ling used her hands and feet to hold him tightly, then raised her head and kissed his chin. "Sleep."
Sleep, sleep. Only when he woke up again would he dare to believe that this was real, not a dream.

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