My Romance with Miss Yiyi

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

One year ago, August 31st, night, 11:30 PM.
Quanzhong Road, a Chun Entertainment City, second floor, in the stall closest to the toilet.
There was no bed, only a sofa. (Go see for yourself if you don't believe me.)
"When will you come out?"
"How would I know when you'll come out?"
"You should cooperate a little!"
"Ah, ah, ah, I love you, you're so big, so amazing." Is this how prostitutes always give perfunctory answers?
She was very tender, with fair skin, not a single acne.
While I held her buttocks with both hands, I liked to bury my face in her breasts, and I also liked to mess up her hair while we were having sex.
She always kept her eyes closed, occasionally saying, "Ugh, so annoying!" when I swirled my tongue around her cheek.
"Or, you can help me get it out with your hand!" Every time, her protruding pelvis would hit my lowest two ribs, causing them to ache for days. Even if they broke, I would be willing.
"Brother, you can't even insert it, but you can get it out with your hand?" I remember that sentence very clearly.
"I always masturbate with my hand," I whispered.
"You, especially if you can just masturbate by yourself, why do you even need a wife?" she said, a little cheeky.
See how she subtly lured me into her circle; she meant she was my wife.
This was the third time we'd done it, and she still resolutely refused to let her hand touch my genitals directly, insisting on using a condom.
I happily used my free hands to cup her breasts, kneading and flattening them.
"You've seen a lot of men; mine is considered big or small." She knew a bit of common sense.
"Middle to upper." Hehe, a little proud.

"Can you go faster?" "I can play you to death." "My hand is tired," she said helplessly.
"Switch to your left hand, darling," I grinned mischievously.
"My left hand is like someone who can't hold chopsticks, and can't masturbate either." She was clearly exhausted.
I grabbed her left hand with both of mine and started my work. Wow, it felt different; I ejaculated in less than a minute.
I really wanted to get her hands dirty, so much so, but she wouldn't let me take off the condom, what a shame. "Yes, sir," she said in Sichuan dialect, "You've really gone all out this time, been holding back for half a month, haven't you!"
I blushed.
"Brother, did you enjoy it? Time to pay." Her soft, gentle voice suggested she'd be willing to hand over any amount of money she had in her pocket.
The going rate in Yangquan is 50 yuan a time, it's really cheap, I always give her a red envelope, or one and a half. (Sweating emoji)
With housing prices and commodity prices only going up, why don't prostitutes raise their prices? (They haven't raised prices here, I don't know about other places.)
In entertainment centers, it's 100 yuan a time, you can find whatever you want, it's something that can be solved with a red envelope, right? So, I increasingly think those rapists who've been locked up for over ten years, lost hundreds of thousands, and spend their days in jail doing this are idiots.

But she said she doesn't deny that some men do it for the thrill!
As a man, have you ever had this virginity complex like me?
Even if you become a womanizer later in life, even if you philander everywhere, the first time must be with the girl you love most, preferably a respectable woman. I've always held onto this belief. But after all these years, I'm still all alone. A
man who hides at home watching porn and masturbating is the most pathetic; a man's secrets are only known to other men. Books say men need to ejaculate regularly, otherwise it's bad for their health—that's a somewhat illogical excuse I used to go to the entertainment center.
My early twenties are the time of my peak energy; after that, I'd never enjoy the pleasures of sex again. So, that night, I abandoned my beliefs, betrayed my future bride who was still in her mother-in-law's womb, and went to an entertainment center. Unexpectedly, this step changed my life, changed my views on love.
I met her, the one who kept me up at night, the one who captivated me.
She said something that made me proud: since becoming a prostitute at seventeen, she'd been numb to sex and hadn't had an orgasm in a long time. That night was her first orgasm in over two years.
I told her the truth, which startled her. I said, "Tonight is my first time.
The books say the first time is quick, that's pure nonsense. My first time took an hour! "
You can't completely believe what the books say.
"Can I tell you my name?" Guys who've had their first time, haven't you asked the same question?
"Just call me Ziyan." It sounded like a fake name.
"What's your real name?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Where are you from?" "I can tell you that, Chongqing."
"How old are you?" "20 years old."
"When did you start doing this?"
"Brother—" The tone was drawn out, and a little coquettish, "You're asking too many questions."
It turned out I was smart, because there was one more question I kept from her.
"My phone is out of credit, here's a hundred-yuan note, can I use your phone to make a call?" I had put my phone on silent.
"I'm not that greedy for money, take it, but hurry up!" She put on her shoes.
If she dared to take the money, I would have given it to her, but I wouldn't know how to use the phone. Because I needed to use her phone to call my own number and leave caller ID.
"The other party couldn't reach you, here you go." Two red bills were pressed against the phone cover.
"Using someone else's phone, there's no such thing as charging." Her smile was sweet.
"This is a tip for you, Ziyan." I was happy to accept.
"I'll take this kind of money!" Before I could reach out, she had already snatched it from my hand. You knew I'd tip you this way, that's why you let me use your phone, right? I didn't dare ask that question that would get me beaten.
Although I don't earn much a month, I'm willing to give it to her. (I didn't give much, I'm ashamed!)
This was our first conversation, in May of this year.
My name is Zhen Lang, twenty-three years old.
I was born into an ordinary family in Yangquan City. My family wasn't too poor; at least making ends meet wasn't a problem.
I didn't have a noble birth, nor any extraordinary talents; I was just an ordinary, cynical young man.
From the day I left school, I believed that heaven was the boss, and I was second only to it. At eighteen, I ventured into this world all by myself, but the cruel reality defeated me utterly. Many years later, I am still worthless and have nothing.
After my older sister, Zhen Lang, got married, our family's life improved somewhat. My parents emptied their savings of many years to find connections and bribe the mine manager with tens of thousands of yuan to get me a "permanent" job (there were no "permanent" jobs, only contract workers). A 21-year-old girl started working there on the same day as me, but her file already showed ten years of service, while I had to start from scratch. The first year, I only earned 800 yuan a month, and even then, there was a pension to cover it! I breathed a long sigh of relief, at least I hadn't been eliminated by this society.
"Pay the phone bill for this number, 182****8384."
"Is the owner's name Yang Xiaoyi?" 8384, something strange, Yang Xiaoyi.
I smiled smugly and deleted the missed call from my phone that day, because I could never forget it.
It seemed like I had succeeded, but actually, I had taken the bait. I had seen her ID card; the name on it was Yang Xiaoyi,

born May 25, 1993. Gemini. I celebrated her 21st birthday with her this May (April 5th on the lunar calendar). She's from Guangyuan, Sichuan, with mushroom-shaped blond hair, 1.55 meters tall, and weighs 80 jin (40 kg). We've maintained a long-term sexual relationship.
Strangers describe me as virtuous, pure-hearted, unparalleled, a unique and exemplary husband, a perfect man.
My brothers, however, describe me as rigid, stubborn, an idiot, a fool, impotent… who keeps a mistress behind their wife's back, who hides money in their shoes to visit prostitutes, whose QQ nickname is Zhen Lang (because the owner of this name has a great image among the masses), but is actually his high school sweetheart, and so on. Even without any agreement, even if one day two brothers fall out, even if you curse the other's ancestors, cripple the other, or the other cripples you, neither of us can tell the other about these things. This is an unwritten rule among us. Anyone who exposes this kind of thing has a problem with their character.
Even so, I haven't told anyone about Yiyi and me.
I always come to this kind of place and do this kind of thing alone.
September 3rd, night, a spring entertainment city.
"Your name is Yang Xiaoyi, I already know."
"So what if I know?"
"Do you have a boyfriend?" " What's it to
you?" She expressed her disgust. "
Can I be your boyfriend?" Did she believe this was the truth? "
Show some sincerity, okay?" She posed the challenge, "I don't ask much of you, come see me seven times a month, an average of once every four days." I
readily agreed.
I don't know what got into me at the time, I scrimped and saved, and even borrowed some money from my brothers (I had to borrow even this little bit of money, don't tell anyone, it's embarrassing!), and finally fulfilled the promise of going every four days.
At the same time as falling for her, I also fell for the bed board in room 201.
October 3rd, night.
"I saw a really stylish yellow vest on Taobao. Add me on QQ and I'll send you the link so you can order it for me. I won't rip you off, it's only a little over 400 yuan." We
'd just finished, I'd just pulled up my pants, and I was about to say something about officially establishing our relationship when she stopped me with a kiss.
"Yiyi—" I didn't know what to say.
"Stop, call me Ziyan." She blinked and walked out of the room.
After chasing her for a month, she's already asking for my QQ number? Look at me, so pathetic.
What to do? Buy it! Even if she's a bottomless pit, I'm willing to fill it, but can I afford it?
Seven days later, we agreed to meet at the entrance of the June 1st photo studio.
"Please bring me some KFC while you're at it. I want chicken wings and a Coke. You haven't had lunch yet! I'm starving."
"It's already 3 PM, and you still haven't eaten?"
"You don't know this, do you? My girlfriends don't get up until after 2 PM every day. We eat two meals a day, one at noon and one in the afternoon, and one in the middle of the night."
After hanging up, I set off.
"I tied the packaging bag with two knots so the chicken wings wouldn't get cold. Try the clothes on when you get back and see if they fit."
"By the way, what's your name?" It's been over a month, and I've found out her birth date, name, and address, and she's only asking my name now. Although I'm a little heartbroken, I've already come this far, I can't just give up.
"My name is Zhen Lang, I'm twenty—" Before I could finish,
"I'm going to wash my hair, talk to you later." I grabbed my things and turned to leave.
"Ziyan—" I didn't know why I called her back, I just kept calling her name.
"Oh, right, from now on you can call me Yiyi. I'll call you Brother Lang, bye-bye." She made a fancy hand gesture and left without even saying thank you.
Brother Lang, that's quite something.
October 8th, 2011, morning.
I met her at the entrance of the Stone Story shop on the overpass. She was wearing the vest I gave her and a black mini-skirt, her hands in her pockets, walking towards me.
We nodded and smiled at each other, but neither of us greeted her.
After taking three steps, I immediately dialed her number.
"Yiyi, we meet, why don't you say anything?" "
Young Master Pan, look at my outfit, I look like a young lady. If I greeted you, it wouldn't be good for you!" She probably hadn't even left the overpass yet.
We've had sex, but how heartbreaking it is that we can't even greet each other properly when we meet on the street!
"I only sent you the shop address, nothing else. How did you know my clothing size?"
"We've slept together, do you think I don't know what you're made of?"
"I've slept with many men, but you're the only one who truly understands me completely! "
"Hey, marry me!"
"Don't even try!"
"I'll come find you tonight, wait for me!" Meeting a very attractive woman on the street, and actually being able to do *that* with her—what kind of feeling is that?!
"One more or one less won't make a difference. " "That's just her temper, but I like it.
Giving clothes to a respectable woman is a long way from sleeping with her! But with a prostitute, you don't have to worry about that. Even if you don't give her anything, she'll let you sleep with her.
When I saw her wearing the clothes I gave her to work, I really felt bad. I'd rather give her a box of condoms so she could focus on her work!
Of course, I'm just kidding.
I waited in the second-floor corridor for about half an hour before she finally came out of a private room. Before she could react, I pulled her into an empty private room.
"Singing, eighty-one hours." The room owner shouted at me.
"Get out of here, everyone else is 50, you're 80." I ignored the owner and went straight into the room.
When it was just the two of us left in the world, the first thing I said to her was, "Yiyi, I've finally waited for you."
"You're such a jerk! There are so many pretty women out there, why did you have to choose me?" So shameless.
"I like you!" I said shyly.
"Do you like me as a person, or do you like me sleeping with you?"
"I like both." "
All crows are black, I don't believe you! Hurry up, I still need to make money! Tonight, I'm going to make lots and lots of money." I wasn't even ashamed to say that.
She asked, "Aren't you cold? Hugging each other will keep you warm," I said.
She never takes off her upper body, and I always take my clothes off completely—it's not fair. But this time, she agreed to be completely naked with me.
During our intimate moments, I often whispered in her ear, "Wife, I love you!"
Later, she told me that almost nine out of ten clients say that, so I immediately changed my tune and said, "Yiyi, I love you!"
To be honest, although it wasn't the first time we'd been intimate, I still couldn't find the right spot. Every time, she'd grab my little brother and just thrust him in. (Sweating emoji.)
Don't you often hear people say, "Young couples have something to say, let's not disturb them"? Actually, the people who say that are the ones who most want to eavesdrop.
Let me tell you what a whispered conversation is, what sweet talk is.
"Fuck your father, you're hurting me."
"It hurts so much! I don't care, just let it hurt!" During the day, I'm a handsome and dignified man, but next to her, I'm a completely different person.
"Ah! You want to strangle me, let go!" Her index finger and thumb pinched my nipple, it hurt so much.
"I'll make you feel good enough." I love the way she swears while making love.
It was during this time that I felt a lot of fluid coming from her buttocks.
"You peed?" I asked on purpose.
"It's just... well, you idiot." Her face actually turned red.
A prostitute, doing this every day, and she still blushes.
And then, my feelings for her deepened.
"When are we going to Tibet together? The train leaves at seven in the morning." I put on my pants first before asking her.
"Brother, I can't get up." Tomorrow? I can't get up now.
"Go to sleep now, you'll definitely be able to get up tomorrow." I've come up with a very despicable, shameless, and lewd way to make her go.
"I still have to earn money!" I tossed and turned on the bed, unable to find my underwear. "Where did my underwear go?"
"I think I put it on." Look at my face, even redder than the first time I was naked in front of her. I didn't cover myself with my hands, just openly showing my bright red face to her. What's there to be afraid of? It's just the two of us in the world.
That feeling? How to describe it? I don't think I've created the words to describe that feeling yet!
"You're a pervert!" she pouted.
"I'll wait for you at the station tomorrow morning, I'm leaving." Hurry up and get out of here, what are you waiting for?
"Come back here, give me back—give me back—" I shouted twice but couldn't get anything back.
She was wearing a miniskirt, and if she didn't wear underwear, she'd be going out naked. Later, she told me that selling men's underwear wouldn't get her any customers, so she obediently went home to sleep.
What couple would discuss their bedroom secrets with anyone before or after a meal?
It seems Chinese tradition doesn't accept such topics!
So, am I avant-garde or rebellious?
Hehe, some people say I'm stupid!
October 9th.

On the bus, we were face-to-face, squeezed in the crowd. She was shorter than me, so I always looked down when I looked at her.
Besides the breathing of the passengers, there wasn't a sound in the bus.

I don't know how I lost my mind, staring at her, completely dumbfounded.

"What are you looking at? Want to touch me?" she suddenly shouted like a shrew.

Even the driver almost veered into a ditch because he suddenly turned his head.

The passengers probably thought Yiyi and I were strangers; so many eyes were staring at my face!

Although our fried rice was quite ordinary, my cheeks still flushed bright red in such a serious and polite setting.
"Yang Xiaoyi, wait till we get home tonight, I'll deal with you!" She spat out each word through gritted teeth, her eyes unwavering.

"Fearless, you'd better hold your breath tight!" She waved her hands across her chest, mimicking self-touching, and blinked.

She was adept at seducing men; they couldn't escape her.

Before the fried rice, some people would watch a short film, some would caress each other, and some couples would even use props…

I want to ask, what prelude could compare to my Yiyi's teasing remark?

She was like a little enchantress; whoever married her would truly enjoy endless bliss.

When I asked her why she hadn't accepted me at first, she said, "There are so many scammers these days. What if I, a helpless young girl, got kidnapped?"
When I asked her why she was willing to date me again, she said it was because she discovered I wasn't a liar, and that I was actually quite fun.
Every time we went on a date, it was after dark, in the middle of the night. Only the time we went to Cangshan was during the day, and even then, it was early in the morning.
Her biological clock was completely messed up; she went to bed at three or four in the morning and woke up after one or two in the afternoon. She
only ate two meals a day, one after waking up and one before going to bed.
"I can't eat anymore."
"If there's anything left, who'll eat it?"
"The dog—" Yiyi drew out the last syllable.
She was always so humorous, pouting her little lips and looking at people with one eye open and one eye closed—it was really cute.
My home was in the suburbs, and the roads were closed when it snowed.
In winter, when I didn't want to go home, I would stay at her rented apartment near the May Fourth Photo Studio. (I won't tell you the exact location.)
She kept a guinea pig in her bed; it wasn't a rabbit, nor a mouse, but she named it something like "Little Pig."
Every time I went to her place, I had to pick a pound of grass from the roadside, making sure to select the tenderest parts; otherwise, she wouldn't let me in. This made me think for a time that what she truly loved was this mouse. Sigh, I guess I'm also talking about myself! (I loved her, this mouse, and she loved me, this mouse.)
But in my opinion, everyone wants to kill a mouse crossing the street. Don't misunderstand, I wasn't talking about Yiyi.
The first time I went to her room, she tricked me into going to warm the bed under the pretense of taking a shower. I had just slipped naked under the covers, lost in thought, when that guinea pig darted from my heels to my face. Its
grayish little eyes stared into my big eyes, and I screamed, throwing off the covers and running away.
This guinea pig only had one eye; its right eye was blind, the socket covered by new fur.
"They're slaughtering a pig in there! Why are they making so much noise?" That was my first impression of Sister Xue.
"It's alright, it won't die," Yiyi replied. "This is my pet. Before I met you, he was my husband too."
She was really good with words, acknowledging me as her husband while treating me like her pet.
"I can't keep any more pets, let alone a blind rat," I said dismissively.
"How can you be so uncaring towards animals? This is a guinea pig, it eats grass, not a rat, you idiot." "You're so playful."
I sat on the edge of the bed, annoyed, and casually covered my crotch with my pants as a sign of politeness.
"Hey, give me a smile." She touched my chin with her long, devilish nails.
I chuckled.
After she closed the door, she raised her fists to her chest and said loudly, "Always getting on top of men, I'll find what it feels like to be on top of a man too. Zhen Lang, I'm going to rape you!" "
What a wild and unruly woman! But I love her.
Tonight, after six months together, she finally agreed to take off the condom while I was masturbating.
As she took turns using her hands, I gently stroked her hair and quietly kissed her charming eyelids. 'Yiyi, you're so beautiful.'
When she closed her eyes to avoid the sudden, unexpected climax, when the thick milk sprayed like a hot spring onto her pretty, playful face and flowed down her soft, silky hands, 'It's a little hot! Hehe!' she said. As I jokingly wiped the stains on her blushing cheeks with a tissue, hearing her sweet, coquettish murmurs, I felt a pride like a man conquering the world. Yiyi, in my heart, you are my everything, you are my world.
This is love, this is the tender affection between husband and wife, the sweet nothings."
I care a lot about the first time; she's the first woman to lie beneath me, and I won't neglect her.
It's not that I'll give up easily, it's that I absolutely won't. However, I won't marry her.
Pshaw, someone like you wants to marry me? I won't marry you! (I mimicking Yiyi's tone, making a self-deprecating joke.)
Although we both know this, neither of us wants to leave the other.
While I'm not exactly a saint, I dislike promiscuous relationships.
Promiscuity disgusts me. Having Yiyi as a woman is enough for me.
In the beginning, we did our homework... she... She asked me for money.
She'd spread her legs and grab a bag of rice. See, the money came so easily and quickly.
Later, naturally, I stopped giving her money, and even if I did, she wouldn't take it.
Later still, her body was mine, and money was no longer an issue!
But even so, I wouldn't refuse to give her money; in fact, I'd give her more. (Giving ten extra dollars counts as giving more, right? Count it!)
Marriage is a long-term form of selling oneself. I deeply understand this saying by Eileen Chang.
I've never spent a penny of her money, nor would I spend her kind of money.
Our delicate relationship lasted for over a year!
[August, I forget the exact date]
Around 10 PM, I stood on the riverbank under the Taohe Bridge as usual.
"Yiyi, are you coming out tonight? Same place, waiting for you." I called.
"It's honey! I'm working as a hostess right now! If I'm not out by 12:30, I won't go. I'm so sleepy! I made a lot of money today. Once I save up for a down payment, we can buy a house in the city!" "The creaking of the bed could be heard intermittently from the other end of the phone. It
's been a year! We call each other by our first names, and that time, she actually called me 'husband.' Logically, with another man on top of her, she wouldn't call me by my name directly.

I've always been a well-behaved person, and my thinking is quite stubborn; the belief that I won't start a family until I've established myself has always been my dominant ideology. For twenty-three years, this was the first time

I'd heard a woman call me 'husband,' and it was under these circumstances. My heart was pounding, my soul almost torn apart by that echo. The moment she called me 'husband,' the moment I thought about the other man on top of her, the moment she said she would fight for our, our, our… future, my heart was filled with an indescribable sadness, a sadness that tears and blood couldn't describe.

We've never defined our relationship; we weren't dating, nor were we friends, but more like strangers with a sexual relationship.
That night, she didn't want to come out, so I forced her to call.
I grabbed her wrist tightly and yelled at her excitedly, 'Can you please stop doing this?'" "
She said something to me that gave me tremendous strength, confidence, and a purpose in life. It made me realize the responsibilities a man should fulfill.
She forcefully shook off my hand, tears streaming down her face, and shouted at me, 'Your monthly salary isn't even as much as the tips I make in one night! If I quit, can you support me?'
As a man, who can allow their woman to ask them such a question?
No! Absolutely not!! Absolutely, absolutely not!!! Absolutely, absolutely, absolutely not!!!!
The crimson on my cheeks spread to my neck, the veins on my forehead stood out, and I could clearly see the writhing of blood flowing down my face. My eyes, as big as millstones, stared unblinkingly at Yiyi's terrified, retreating face. Because my fist was clenched so tightly, a drop of blood rolled down from between my fingers, from a cut on my palm.
'Brother Lang, I'm sorry, I was too harsh. I hurt you.'" She cried.
Spilled water can't be taken back, and apologies are useless.
To protect a man's dignity, to protect a man's status, to protect the tradition of men leading women, I didn't hesitate, recklessly raising my hand and slapping her hard.
"Brother Lang—you're crazy!" she exclaimed.
Afterwards, I wiped the blood dripping from the corner of my mouth with my other hand, turned and left without a word.
"Brother Lang—Brother Lang—" she chased after me.
I quickened my pace, running desperately into the farthest shadow; I couldn't face her.
After completely shaking her off, I sent a text message.
"Yiyi, even if I could support you, you and I both know very well that we can't get married."
Then I cried.
Later, she told me that before she received this text message, her tears had already dried up.

Did she really love me? I'm not stupid; I've thought about that question too.
If she truly cared for me, she would never have asked me questions like where I'm from, where I live, or who my family is. Conversely, I've asked her about her family more than once: are her parents healthy? Why did she take this path?
I, Yang Xiaoyi, was born of nature, without parents, I sprang from a rock! She always changed the subject with this ridiculous excuse.
She's just an immature, careless girl, someone who's raised but not cared for, only knowing how to eat, drink, and have fun—a heartless brat. She has no feelings for me whatsoever, so why should I still cling to her?

I only heard bits and pieces about her family from my friends, like Sister Xue and the girl from Henan.
Her family is very poor, living in a remote mountain village in Guangyuan, Sichuan. She herself is quite wealthy now.
Her mother passed away long ago, and her father remarried, having a stepmother with a younger brother.
Her stepmother treats her badly, finding her an eyesore.
Her father also passed away when she was fourteen. Even her grandfather was old. So, before she turned eighteen, she began a lonely, wandering life. We'd
known each other for over a year, and this was all I knew about Yiyi.
Due to Yiyi's profession, we'd never told anyone our story.
When she told me she was leaving, I was heartbroken. But, separation is inevitable, and separating now will be much less painful.
Since we can't get married, let's not drag this on.

We were just playing around; don't take it seriously.
Twenty-three or twenty-four is a man's career is developing; once that age is over, having sex with a woman feels very different. Yiyi, I'm so grateful to have such a delicate girl by my side!

November 2nd, 2012. (After that incident, we didn't contact each other for three months.)
The night was deep, the wind biting.
On the roads along the riverbank, traffic was sparse; occasionally, you could see a few lonely ghosts hiding their heads in their hats.
The brightly lit fluorescent tubes of an entertainment venue, bathed in colorful light, seemed to emanate a chilling aura, appearing and disappearing in the far distance.
I didn't want to come out at all, nor did I want to see her again. It would have been better if we just parted ways without contacting each other. It was she who said on the phone that she was leaving and wanted to see me one last time, which is why I reluctantly braved the cold wind to fulfill her wish.
I'm not particularly noble, but even if I'm penniless and incompetent, am I really inferior to a whore like her? Anyone can talk about nobility in front of a lowly woman like her.
In real life, honesty, stability, propriety, and straightforwardness—at least a hundred positive adjectives—cannot fully capture my image as a good man.
Therefore, I don't want people to say I have anything to do with a prostitute; it would have a negative impact on me.
Modern traditional education and social morality also forbid such a relationship.
I used to have so many concerns, but now I'm not afraid.
Because I've discovered she's very stupid, very foolish, even idiotic, brain-dead. She never asked me to introduce her to my friends.
Otherwise, my friends would look at me differently. A decent man like me, Pan Feng, would never stoop to prostitution! It's too shameful!
Now that she says she's leaving, I'm even less afraid.
Do you know why I've never asked you to introduce me to your friends? Because I know it's pointless. If you introduced me, they would only look at me differently; no one would consider me a true friend. If your friends are women, they would cut ties with me without hesitation. If your friends are men, they might even have thoughts of taking advantage of me. I'm not a toy, I'm not a puppet, I'm a person, I'm a woman! Am I that despicable? You only care about your own hypocritical reputation; when have you ever considered my feelings?
I always feel like you treat me like a stray cat or dog, playing with me when you remember, and ignoring me when you don't.
It's been over three months, and you haven't called me once, not even a text message. This kind of thing should be initiated by the man, but you kept dragging it out with me, and I was the one who contacted you first. My profession itself is a mistake, so I can just make another one. Now, shamelessly and brazenly, I've dragged you out. You can openly tell your friends that I'm despicable, shameless, and that I seduced you.
When I said I was leaving, it wasn't me leaving, but you wanting to leave. If you want to leave, then leave. A man like you who doesn't understand women isn't worth my time.
After she tearfully uttered these passionate and impassioned words, I held her pitiful and weak body tightly in my arms. If it weren't for her falling into prostitution, I would never have met, known, or befriended her.
She's not stupid, not foolish at all; she's the smartest woman in the world. She has her own hardships and unspeakable difficulties. But I can't let her stay by my side just because she was emotional when she spoke, just because she shed a few tears, just because she's pitiful.
The cold wind, like sharp swords, slashed across our faces. We held each other tightly, suppressing the piercing pain in our hearts.
Our pounding hearts were the reason for our embrace, our blushing cheeks the reason for our refusal to let go.
We endured the biting wind for a full minute, and I clearly saw her tears freeze into ice crystals in the wind.
One was all smiles, the other was in tears.
In the dead of night, so silent even the most vengeful spirits wouldn't bother to come out and claim our souls, under the pale moonlight, I lightly kissed her cheek and whispered a final, desperate word in her ear:
"Yiyi, may you rest in peace!"

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My Romance with Miss Yiyi

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