Me and My Women (I Slept with My First Girlfriend's Mother) (Full)

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

I took Su Yi's cold hand and held it in my own. I didn't say anything else. I just called out softly with tears in my eyes: Teacher Su.
I saw two lines of tears instantly flow down Su Yi's cheeks.
Three months later, Su Yi went to the United States and reunited with her husband.

My women and I (5)
are just cheap. Sometimes we don't cherish things. We only realize how precious they are when we lose them.
In the first few days after Su Yi left, I started to miss her terribly. Her figure often appeared in my dreams. I don't know what I felt at that time. Maybe it was because I couldn't love and accept Ya Nan's love that I suddenly transferred and entrusted all my emotions to Su Yi, who had the same appearance as her daughter.
I vowed that after graduating from university, I would definitely go to the United States to find her. So, I started to study English intensively.
Soon, the winter vacation was coming. I signed up for an English tutoring class, wrote a letter to my hometown to tell my parents that I would not be coming back for the New Year, and then plunged into the library.
One morning, I was reading in a corner of the library when Ya Nan came. It had only been a little over six months since we last met, and I was surprised to find that she had suddenly become much fuller and more mature. Both her demeanor and figure were increasingly resembling her mother, Su Yi. A heart-wrenching pain instantly filled my entire being.
She floated over and sat down beside me, softly telling me that she had just gotten off the train that morning. She asked if I could help her clean her house.
I agreed.
Since that time Ya Nan kissed me in public, I had never been to her house again. More than six months had passed in a flash. Everything in the room was still so familiar.
While I was cleaning, Ya Nan went to take a shower. When she came out, I saw her wearing the silk nightgown and cotton slippers that Su Yi often wore, her hair piled high. I was stunned; it was as if I saw Su Yi again.
That night, Ya Nan and I both drank a lot. In my drunken haze, I carried the now stunningly beautiful Ya Nan to bed. Finally, amidst Ya Nan's painful groans, I, like a beast, tore through Ya Nan's hymen with my penis, which had entered Su Yi's body countless times, and deeply penetrated her youthful body.
The next morning, when I awoke from my deep sleep to find myself naked, holding Ya Nan, still asleep and equally naked, in my arms, on the bed where I had once shared a pillow with her mother, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my stomach, a nausea I had never experienced before, surging up all at once.
I pulled my arm from under Ya Nan's head, jumped out of bed, and ran naked into the bathroom, beginning to vomit violently.
Ya Nan, awakened by my sudden outburst, came into the bathroom wearing only my long robe, her long hair loose, her bare feet and slender legs exposed. She gently patted my back while softly asking me what was wrong.
I straightened up, flushed the toilet, went to the sink, rinsed my mouth and washed my face, then smiled at Ya Nan and said, "It's nothing, I drank too much last night, my stomach isn't feeling too good."
Unaware of my inner turmoil, Ya Nan wrapped her arms around my neck, gently kissed me, and said shyly, "I think so too. You were like a madman last night, you scared me to death, and now my lower body still hurts."
Last night, slightly drunk, I subconsciously mistook Ya Nan for her mother, Su Yi, and poured out all the desire I had harbored for Su Yi's body over the past few months onto her daughter.
Many things, once done the first time, often become uncontrollable, especially matters of the heart.
From that day on, throughout the entire winter break, Ya Nan and I were inseparable. Sometimes, we could even stay home for days, a solitary man and woman, enjoying the pleasures of love.
After the initial pain and discomfort of the first few days, Ya Nan, having tasted the forbidden fruit for the first time, quickly experienced pleasure under my gentle touch. Although her performance was still quite immature compared to Zhen Chunxiu and Su Yi, like a budding flower, the unique fragrance of a pure young girl began to intoxicate and captivate me.
It was then that I truly discovered Ya Nan's charm as a pure young girl.
She was slender but not bony, with delicate, slender fingers, beautiful feet, firm yet soft breasts that weren't overly exaggerated, and smooth, satin-like skin. She possessed a captivating figure and beautiful face, just like Su Yi, only lacking Su Yi's passion in bed and possessing a shyness and purity that Su Yi lacked. Especially the trembling she felt when her fingers touched my body as she lay in my arms, the clear look in her eyes as she gazed at me tenderly, and the sweet whispers she uttered—these are memories I still cherish.
From Ya Nan, I experienced the profound sweetness between men and women beyond the fleeting pleasure of physical intimacy; it was the lingering sweetness born from a deep connection of hearts. Later, although I had countless women, including many virgins, I never again felt the unforgettable tenderness Ya Nan had given me.
Ya Nan began to change. She shed her usual denim outfits, donned long dresses, and styled her hair in high curls. She, who never wore makeup, began sitting at her mother Su Yi's dressing table, spending an hour or two meticulously grooming herself, no matter how much I urged her. Almost overnight, the fiery, tomboyish Ya Nan underwent a complete 180-degree transformation, suddenly becoming a gentle, submissive lady.
Ya Nan and I fell deeply in love.
However, at only eighteen or nineteen years old, I could never have imagined that beneath this river of love lay a deep, boundless sea of bitter, icy despair.
In fact, from the very first day I was with Ya Nan, I had already vaguely experienced that restless pain that still throbs within my body and soul.
During those days, no matter what Ya Nan and I did, whenever we were together, the image of Su Yi would always haunt me, along with the painful tears I saw on her face at the hospital that day. Especially at night, under the dim streetlights outside the window, as I gazed at Ya Nan, who was asleep with his head on my arm, I often wondered if Su Yi was lying beside me. At that moment, my heart would clench, the pain unbearable. I would curse myself inwardly for being shameless, despicable, and vile, while simultaneously shedding tears and kissing Ya Nan's gently moving face as he slept.
I began to hate Zhen Chunxiu, that Japanese witch. It was her lewdness that made me lose my innocence prematurely, causing my incestuous relationship with Su Yi, and ultimately leading me to find myself so unclean and filthy, like a rag, unworthy of Ya Nan's true feelings for me when I finally found the woman I truly loved.
This indescribable pain, intertwined with my love for Ya Nan, grew stronger with time, often shattering and consuming my heart in the dead of night.
Although I usually hid this pain deeply, the observant Ya Nan noticed. Once, I woke up crying from a dream to find Ya Nan wiping my tears with a handkerchief. She didn't ask why, but just cried with me, kissing me and saying, "I miss you, Rousseau, I really miss you. It hurts me so much to see you like this." As she spoke, she pressed my head tightly against her chest, just like her mother Su Yi often did.
In the long winter night, our two young lives, besides joy and happiness, mostly wept in each other's arms. It seemed we sensed from the very beginning the pain and misfortune that was quietly approaching.
The sweet yet painful time was so fleeting. In the blink of an eye, winter vacation was over.
After spending over a month together, Ya Nan and I had developed an inseparable bond. The night before I sent Ya Nan back to Beijing, we went to bed early, making love repeatedly while tears streamed down our faces, wishing we could merge into each other's bodies and never leave. Even in our sleep, our bodies remained tightly intertwined.
Never again will any woman make me experience that almost life-or-death tenderness.
After sending Ya Nan away, I moved back to my school dormitory. Back then, there was no internet. Although we occasionally talked on the phone, Ya Nan and I expressed our longing for each other mostly through letters. It was precisely because of this distance that Ya Nan and I felt our love even more deeply and cherished every little bit of care we shared. We received two thick letters from each other almost every week. If we didn't receive one even a day late, we would be restless and unable to eat or sleep. In our letters, besides pouring out our longing for each other, we talked about our studies, and the sweet little things that happened in our lives that were so precious to us. Most of the time, we encouraged each other and shared our aspirations for a bright and happy future.
Separated by thousands of miles, almost every night we lay in our own beds, reading each other's letters over and over again, silently weeping, falling asleep with a broken heart.
We didn't realize that our tears and heartache stemmed from a deep sense that our hearts had already sensed our love, our sweetness, our joy, our happiness, our future, and our shared dreams were all about to vanish, never to return.
Sure enough, the sudden turn of events shortly afterward ruthlessly shattered all of Ya Nan's dreams and hopes. Just as we were beginning to taste the sweetness of love, we plunged into a vast sea of suffering, and more than twenty years have passed without our return.
In the days leading up to the accident, I don't know why, but I was always incredibly irritable. A nameless unease tormented me, whether in the classroom, the library, or the dormitory. I would often sit there blankly, a book in my hand, but unable to read a single word.
It was a gloomy, rainy evening. I had just sat down in the library when suddenly an unbearable wave of unease washed over me. I closed the book I had just opened, put it in my bag, left the library, and headed towards the dormitory. As soon as I entered the dormitory building, I heard the dormitory manager shouting: "Is anyone in room 116? It's Rousseau on the phone."
I rushed over and picked up the receiver. On the other end of the line was Ya Nan, sobbing uncontrollably. In a panic, I loudly asked her what had happened. After a long pause, I heard Ya Nan say, haltingly: "My mother had an accident at her home in Los Angeles this morning. She couldn't be saved and passed away." I
asked what kind of accident it was.
Ya Nan cried and said: "It was carbon monoxide poisoning again."
After hearing this, the book in my hand slammed onto the table. I don't remember what the people around me were calling me. Dazed and disoriented, I stumbled out of the dormitory building, running into the pouring rain without even an umbrella.
All night, I didn't return to the dormitory. Alone, I wandered aimlessly in the still chilly spring night, soaked to the bone by the dim streetlights. Lost and disoriented, I stared blankly at my shadow, shortened and lengthened by the slanting light in the rain. It wasn't until dawn that I finally arrived at Su Yi's house, utterly exhausted.
Entering the empty room, I felt as if Su Yi was softly calling my name. Rousseau, Rousseau—the sound was so real. My heart was torn apart by that call. I staggered into the bedroom, picked up the photograph of Su Yi smiling at me, pressed it tightly to my chest, and collapsed weakly onto the bed.
More than ten hours after receiving this devastating news, I finally shed tears and cried out loud.
Eight days later, the day after I was discharged from the hospital from a high fever, I dragged my still weak body to class. At lunchtime, the class monitor handed me a registered letter from America. Seeing the familiar handwriting on the envelope, my heart pounded, and a glimmer of hope flashed through my mind. But that light was quickly extinguished. Because I saw the date the letter was sent was the very day Su Yi left.
My eyes blurred with tears; I had never felt so helpless all of a sudden. I sat alone in the now empty lecture hall, and after a long while, with trembling hands, I opened Su Yi's letter. Before me lay Su Yi's neat and elegant handwriting, wet with tears. I could almost hear Su Yi's voice again: "
Rousseau:
By the time you read this letter, I may already be gone. Please forgive my selfishness, cowardice, and cruel farewell.
Ya Nan wrote to me a few days ago, telling me everything." Although I was once your lover and Ya Nan's mother, I know I had no right to stop you from loving each other. You are both young and should have your own happiness and future.
Ya Nan said in her letter that she always sensed an indescribable pain deep within you, and she asked if I knew why. Although we broke up months ago and are separated by oceans, I can still feel and even touch that deep pain in your heart. That pain is mine too. The moment we broke up in your dormitory that day, that pain was planted in my heart. I thought that by leaving you, I could escape all of this, but I was wrong. Today I realize that I no longer have the strength and courage to continue enduring this pain that erodes my body and soul day and night. You are a man; you must live on strongly and not let our pain hurt Ya Nan any further. Of the three of us, she is the most innocent.
Forgive me, Rousseau. Although I chose this path, which may be the least I should have chosen, I do not regret the beautiful times we shared. You let me truly live, to be a woman to my heart's content, I have no regrets, I am satisfied.
After reading this letter, burn it. Treat Ya Nan well. You and she are my only concern. Bless you both.
I am leaving...
That noon, I don't remember how I arrived at Su Yi's former home, I can only recall the scene of kneeling before Su Yi's smiling photo looking at me. That day, in the firelight, along with Su Yi's final words, my love, my heart, all my ideals and pursuits burned to ashes.
My women and I (6)
have a saying, life is worse than death. In the days after Su Yi left, that was my state of mind.
I killed Su Yi, I took away Ya Nan's mother's life. If I hadn't loved Ya Nan, hadn't accepted Ya Nan's love, hadn't touched her pure heart and body, none of this would have happened, none of the tragedy would have existed.
I often wake up from nightmares, covered in cold sweat. How I wish that everything that happened in my real life was also a dream. But Su Yi was truly gone, the tragedy had truly occurred, and it was only the beginning.
During the days I was seriously ill and hospitalized, Ya Nan, thousands of miles away, also collapsed from grief and was admitted to the China-Japan Friendship Hospital in Beijing. More than twenty days later, when I saw Ya Nan again at the train station, she held Su Yi's urn, looking so haggard, like a withered leaf trembling in the wind. Ya Nan saw me, handed the urn to a middle-aged man beside her—her father—and ran over to me, embracing me and weeping bitterly. At that moment, I had no tears left.
After burying Su Yi's ashes in her hometown of Hangzhou, Ya Nan's father rushed back to the United States. Ya Nan didn't immediately return to Beijing. She took a few days off from school to stay and sort through her mother's belongings.
During the few days Ya Nan was there, apart from making love once on the first night, we never slept together again. We barely spoke, afraid of touching on painful topics. That atmosphere was incredibly oppressive. After having dinner with Ya Nan, I just silently held her hand, watched TV with her for a while, and then left early.
Feeling empty inside, I pushed my bicycle along the dimly lit streets, aimlessly wandering. I often went into a Korean restaurant with only five or six tables not far from the school, ordered two bottles of beer and a plate of kimchi, lit a cigarette I'd only started smoking a couple of days ago, and sat in a corner until late at night. At that time
, although I was only a junior in college, I had already been forced to sell my calligraphy to support myself. Although the income wasn't much, it was enough to completely stop relying on my parents' hard-earned money. Sometimes I would even occasionally help my family and buy gifts for Ya Nan. As for myself, besides buying books and meal tickets for the student cafeteria, I had almost no other expenses. Drinking and smoking were things that happened after Su Yi left.
The night before Ya Nan returned to Beijing, I was still sitting alone in a corner of the restaurant. I had just finished a bottle of beer when Ya Nan rushed in. It was almost ten o'clock, and I had been with her just two hours earlier. I didn't know why she suddenly wanted to see me. "
I went to your dorm. Your roommates said you might be here."
I saw that Ya Nan's expression was unusually serious. I had never seen her speak to me so formally before. My heart started to pound. "
It's so late. Is something wrong?"
I stared at Ya Nan's face, trying to find something. "
Yes, let's go outside and talk.
" Ya Nan's tone was harsh.
I got up, paid the bill, and went outside with her. When we reached the bicycle, I stopped and looked at Ya Nan, saying, "Go ahead."
I saw Ya Nan's chest heaving violently. "
Did my mother commit suicide?"
I never expected Ya Nan to suddenly ask this question.
In the dim light, I forced a smile and said to Ya Nan, "Don't think like that. Your mother's passing was purely accidental."
After saying that, I reached out to take Ya Nan's hand. Ya Nan immediately dodged and said, "Don't touch me!"
She opened her bag, took out a stack of manuscript paper, and asked me, "Did you write this?"
I took it and looked at it, my head buzzing as if I'd been hit by something. It was the essay I'd written over a year ago, "On the Beauty of Sexual Love." "
Where did you find it?"
Instantly understanding everything, I calmed down. I asked Ya Nan calmly. "
In the drawer of my mother's desk in her study,"
Ya Nan replied.
We fell silent. After a long while, Ya Nan looked up and finally asked the question I'd already expected. "
Have you slept with my mother?"
The truth was crystal clear; I couldn't lie any longer. My heart had already given up, and I nodded.
I saw Ya Nan raise her hand and swing it at my face. I didn't move or dodge; I only felt a burning sensation on my left cheek where Ya Nan had slapped me hard, and my ears were ringing.
This slap was for my mother. "This slap is for myself. You beast!"
With that, Ya Nan slapped me hard across the right cheek again. The sound was so crisp, carrying far through the night. I saw several elderly people sitting under the streetlights across the street looking up at us.
For some reason, the instant after being slapped twice by Ya Nan, I felt an inexplicable sense of relief and liberation. I stood there stiffly, offering no rebuttal. "
I never want to see you again! Rousseau, die!
" Ya Nan finished speaking, word by word, and turned to run away.
Worried that Ya Nan might do something rash, I followed her on my bicycle at a distance until she reached her house. After Ya Nan went inside, I stood outside the door and heard the sound of things being thrown inside. After a brief commotion, finally, Ya Nan's heart-wrenching cries came through the crack in the door.
That night, I crouched outside Ya Nan's door like a dog until dawn. Only after hearing Ya Nan get up and move around in the living room did I quietly leave.
That afternoon, Ya Nan boarded a train heading north and left without a word.
Later, I wrote her dozens of letters, all of which were returned unopened. I made countless phone calls, but she always said she wasn't there. During the summer vacation, I thought she would come back. I didn't go back to my hometown; instead, I waited outside her door day and night. But the entire vacation passed without me seeing her; it was as if she had vanished into thin air.
I couldn't bear it any longer. On the first weekend after the semester started, I asked my advisor for leave and took the train to the Beijing campus to find Ya Nan. Ya Nan's department head told me that two months before the summer vacation, Ya Nan had withdrawn from the university and gone to the United States.
After returning from Beijing, I was like a different person. I could go for days without saying a word to anyone. My beard grew thicker and thicker, and although my advisor hinted several times that I should shave it off, I didn't. After class during the day, I would go to that Korean restaurant alone at night, drinking and writing down my living expenses for several magazines on that slightly greasy table. Although I didn't know what I was writing at the time, I told myself I had to live, I had to live until the day I could see Ya-nan again.
Countless nights, drunk, I would wander to Ya-nan's apartment building, staring at the window—as dark as my heart—silently calling her name.
Finally, one day, I was utterly desperate.
It was the second month after I returned from Beijing, and I received another letter from America. My name was printed on the envelope. I opened it; inside was only a photograph. In the photo, Ya-nan, wearing a wedding dress and holding flowers, looked slightly overweight, while a Western man in his forties or fifties, wearing a tuxedo and slightly balding, was embracing the waist I had once embraced.
That night, I returned to my dorm, shaved off the beard I had grown for months, changed into new clothes, and went to that Korean restaurant. After drinking over a dozen bottles of beer on an empty stomach, I put the written suicide note and Ya Nan's photo into my jacket pocket, staggered to my feet, and went to the restaurant counter to pay the bill. I said to the owner, "Thank you. Today might be my last time here."
I walked out of the restaurant under the owner's surprised gaze.
Back on campus, I went to the back of the library, where the lights had long since gone out, to the lawn where Ya Nan and I had once sat together. I knelt down, facing northwest towards my hometown, and kowtowed three times to my parents. Then, I looked up at the sky, silently calling out Su Yi's name a few times, before quietly lying down. I took out a razor blade from my pocket and forcefully cut my left wrist.
There was only a slight pain, accompanied by a cool sensation. But soon after, I felt the bleeding cut begin to itch, and small insects crawling around. I knew it was the ants in the grass smelling my blood.
I lay there motionless, waiting for the moment when my soul would finally leave this filthy body.
The surroundings were so quiet, save for the chirping of cicadas and the faint sound of ship horns drifting from the distant river. A crescent moon hung high in the cool night sky. A shooting star, trailing a long streak of light, streaked across the sky above me.
I felt a sense of relief, and I smiled for the first time since Ya Nan left.
But I hadn't died.
A week later, after leaving the hospital, I bought some gifts and went back to that Korean restaurant. I wanted to thank the owner, the one who hadn't let me have my way.
She said, "You're really lucky. That day, I felt something was off about you. After you left, I followed you, but you disappeared after entering your school. Your classmates and I searched for you for most of the night. When we found you, you were barely alive. Actually, it wasn't me who saved you; it was fate that kept you from dying. When I shone a flashlight on you, I saw your arm covered in ants. If it weren't for those little creatures, I reckon you would have bled to death long ago."
The owner concluded, "Young man, I think you're a pretty good person. Don't do anything foolish again. If you're having trouble thinking, just like before, come here, have a few drinks, go home, get a good night's sleep, and you'll forget everything."
Yes, a good night's sleep will make you forget everything. How I wish that were true.
I've loved, I've hurt, I've suffered, I've even faced death.
At just over twenty, I've already seen through the illusions of the world. After graduating and being assigned to a news agency in Beijing, I quickly rode off into the world of women.
Not for love, and there was no love, just for the sounds of birdsong and tiger roars in bed.
Me and my women (7)
In the mid-1980s, being a reporter was quite desirable, unlike now, when you're like a fly, buzzing around and annoying wherever you go.
A graduate of a prestigious university, with formal training, at just over twenty, I carried that little booklet with the words "Reporter ID" printed on it in my pocket, which made me seem a bit more arrogant than those junior reporters from evening or daily newspapers. Wherever I went, I was like an FBI agent in an American blockbuster, arms crossed, completely fearless. When I went out for interviews, especially to other provinces and cities, all those local officials, big and small, treated me like an imperial envoy. They were so enthusiastic and attentive, practically behaving like they were serving a prince, almost kneeling and kowtowing. Do you know why? They were all afraid that if they didn't treat me well, I'd have to go back to Beijing to write internal reports, criticize them, nitpick, ruin their careers, and get rid of them. Those bastards—I laugh just thinking about their insincere smiles now.
After four years of tumultuous experiences at university, my mood brightened after only a few days of working in Beijing, as clear as the blue sky of October. The pain and hurt left by Su Yi's death and Ya Nan's heartlessness were just a few clouds in that blue sky, quickly blown away by the wind. That's just human nature. Back then, I was pushing myself to the limit, getting stuck in a dead end I couldn't escape. But once I finally broke free, I discovered how vast the world was. I felt like I hadn't died; I'd really struck gold.
In short, after arriving in Beijing, my entire feeling was like Chairman Mao's description of the sun at eight or nine in the morning—it had broken through the darkness and was beginning to rise vigorously.
Perhaps because I had started writing early in college to support myself, among the young people assigned to the news agency at the same time, although I was the youngest, I learned the job the fastest. Every time I returned from an interview, while the others were still hunched over in the office, struggling and scratching their heads, my articles had already been published and spread throughout newspapers large and small across the country. Therefore, I was the first to finish my internship and the first to be let work independently.
The first few months of work were exciting, enthusiastic, and I worked like crazy. I barely had any urges for women. Before, I would always get out of bed at the crack of dawn, full of energy and spirit, as if I were still asleep, limp and listless, without any energy. Sometimes I felt quite strange myself, and I even began to wonder if I had become impotent because of the blood transfusion I had given myself a few months ago.
But no. Not only that, but later, through the eloquent arguments of a constant stream of women, I became more and more vigorous and powerful.
The first to prove me right, and also the fourth woman in my life, was Pei Pei, a third-year student in the
performing arts department of a certain college in Beijing. I first saw her on that lovely golden tree-lined path outside the wall of the Diaoyutai State Guesthouse in Sanlihe, Beijing. Under the camera's pursuit, she was running desperately, and her breasts, which I later heard were the most exquisite in the college, were brazenly flailing about under her tight black fleece. For some reason, I suddenly thought of that Japanese witch, Makoto Seimei, and her enormous breasts. In an instant, just an instant, my lust, which had been dormant for months, was reignited.
It was Sunday afternoon, around dusk. My fellow townsman, Xiao Yang, who had been with the domestic news agency for three years longer than me, said to me: "How about it, are you straight now?"
I didn't know if he meant my eyes or my lower body. Anyway, I was completely straight at that moment.
Xiao Yang was very familiar with Director Chen of this TV series; they were buddies. According to Xiao Yang himself, he had even secured over a million yuan in sponsorship for the series. No wonder he acted like a big shot, standing there more like a director than the director himself.
Xiao Yang said to me: "I brought you here today, firstly, to let you see the pretty girls at the Beijing brothel academy (he renamed a certain academy in Beijing). Secondly, to enlighten your little brother, to teach you some ways to make money, instead of just burying your head in writing articles and focusing solely on becoming a famous reporter."
What did he mean? Just say it directly.
I sensed something was off about what my fellow villager, Xiao Yang, said, so I asked him directly.
Hearing this, Xiao Yang perked up. He had the crew bring us two folding chairs, then whispered to me, "Director Chen told me that this film still needs some funding. You're currently traveling all over the country, trying to find a few construction or real estate companies to contribute. You'll get a cut. You're handsome, and with a bit of money, picking up a hot girl like Pei Pei is a piece of cake."
Damn! Are you trying to sabotage me?
I'd only been a reporter for two days, and I was already acting like Xiao Yang, all cocky and unreliable. "
If you think I'm sabotaging you, then don't do it at all,"
Xiao Yang started provoking me. "
Then name a price, how much?"
I started to get interested. "
We'll talk about this with Director Chen at dinner after they wrap up,"
Xiao Yang said mysteriously. Dinner was arranged at the Xiyuan Hotel's Western restaurant near the zoo. Me, Xiao Yang, Director Chen, the cinematographer, the producer, and of course, Pei Pei—the six of us sat at a separate table. The director deliberately had Pei Pei sit next to me. Clearly, he was starting to use his charm on me. I played along, taking the opportunity to get to know Pei Pei. Before we'd even finished half of dinner, Pei Pei started calling me "brother."
Xiao Yang, overhearing this, immediately shouted, "Director Chen, did you see that? Brother, brother! I'm so damn annoyed! I've known Pei Pei for almost three months, and have you ever heard her call me 'brother' even once?" "No. Not even once." Well, she's been calling our handsome Xiao Lu "brother" nonstop ever since. "
You'd better go to the restroom before you talk,"
Pei Pei said to Xiao Yang with a smile.
Xiao Yang didn't understand. He asked stupidly, "Why?"
Director Chen laughed and said, "Pei Pei means you should take a piss and look at yourself."
"Hey Pei Pei, your mouth is so sharp! There's a saying, 'Don't hit someone in the face, don't insult someone by revealing their weaknesses,' why are you deliberately trying to ruin me? I may not be as handsome as your Lu brother, but I'm still a manly man wherever I stand,"
Xiao Yang said with a self-deprecating laugh.
That night, I promised Director Chen I'd try contacting the CEOs of some big companies I'd interviewed, but I couldn't guarantee the 800,000 yuan.
Two weeks later, Director Chen, the producer, Pei Pei, and I flew to Guangzhou. Director Chen and his team signed a sponsorship contract with one of the largest real estate companies in the area. The 800,000 yuan was deposited into the production team's account three days later. Of course, as agreed beforehand, I also received a considerable kickback.
Perhaps influenced by reading *Water Margin* as a child, in my mind, Shandong was a place that produced many upright heroes like Wu Song and Li Kui. I never expected it to also produce fiery women, and exceptionally fiery ones at that—I mean, women who sleep with you. Because Pei Pei's hometown is Weifang, Shandong.
The first time I slept with Pei Pei was one evening not long after we returned from Guangzhou.
It was a Saturday. Pei Pei didn't have any filming for the next few days, so she didn't have to spend so many evenings with Director Chen and his crew. She told Director Chen she was going back to the academy, and that afternoon she came to my single dormitory in the news agency's staff quarters early in the morning.
At the time, I was sharing a room with another newly assigned college graduate, Xiao Meng, who specialized in agricultural reporting. He happened to be bedridden with a fever for the past few days, so I couldn't kick him out.
In a moment of desperation, I suddenly thought of the Summer Palace.
I said to Pei Pei, "I went to the Summer Palace for an interview recently and got to know the director quite well. Why don't we go to the park tonight, go boating, and even stay overnight?"
Pei Pei immediately jumped up excitedly. She said, "Great! I've been filming so hard these past few days, I really need to relax. But before we go, I have to go back to the academy to get my pajamas and cosmetics, and I'll also bring my guzheng."
The first time I dined with Pei Pei at the Xiyuan Hotel, Director Chen mentioned that Pei Pei played the guzheng very professionally and had a beautiful voice. It was a pity I'd never heard her play. Hearing her say that, I was naturally overjoyed. I immediately ran downstairs and used a public phone to call the director of the Summer Palace, saying I'd like to visit with my girlfriend that evening and asking for dinner and accommodation at the normal guest rate. The director agreed without hesitation.
When Pei Pei and I arrived at the Summer Palace, it was a little after six in the evening. The park was already closed. The director had left early due to other commitments. He arranged for a young man surnamed Song to receive us.
The place we stayed that night was called Shennongxuan. I heard that Chairman Mao and Zhou Enlai had stayed there briefly before officially moving into Zhongnanhai in 1949. Now it's been converted into guest rooms specifically for foreign guests.
Xiao Song led Pei Pei and me through a long corridor to a quaint, antique-style double room with carved beams and painted pillars, and paper-covered windows.
Pei Pei chuckled when she saw the thin paper. I knew why. I casually asked Xiao Song, "Hey buddy, is this paper window soundproof? Won't someone pry it open at night?"
Xiao Song gave a mischievous grin. He pulled me closer, pointed it out, and whispered, "Look closely, it's not one layer, it's two layers, buddy. There's a layer of glass in between. Besides, our director instructed us to reserve this room for you two. It's empty all around, so you can do whatever you want tonight. Don't worry, no one will hear you, and no one will dare to peek." I turned
to Pei Pei and said, "Did you hear that? Do whatever you want, don't worry, no one will hear you, and no one will dare to peek."

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