07-01 Physical Relationship

page views:1 Publication date:2023-07-31

The so-called private trainer and personal trainer are two different concepts.

A personal trainer is a designated one-on-one instructor at a gym. A

private trainer, on the other hand, is an instructor invited to teach at a client's home.

A personal trainer is an instructor.

A private trainer... to put it nicely, is a high-level recruiter; to put it bluntly, is a bed companion.

This isn't fabricated; it's an open secret.

Whether it's Qingniao, Haosha, or Lidajian, all the gyms in D city, big and small, are the same. I often hear instructors discussing this in the break room. Men and women, women and men, men and men, women and women. Everyone is uninhibited, it's consensual, there are clear prices, and it's safe and secure. Some

end up with rich men, some with wealthy women... after all, the career span is limited, so their mentality is similar. High prices, and the ability to enjoy top-notch sex outside of work hours—why not?

I'm a common person, so I can't deviate from the mainstream. Plus, I teach yoga, I'm not very old, and my potential female client base is enormous. Anyway, no matter what, I won't lose out. Why waste my time persisting in unnecessary things?

It's strange, really, but the three men I've known for a long time all seem to have met me through women. Thinking about it, it's quite interesting.

The first man is Song Jianping, thirty-eight years old this year, a high-ranking government official.

If it weren't for his wife, I probably wouldn't know him at all. To be precise, that woman wasn't his wife, but his mistress. I just didn't know about this back in 2008.

Zhang Yali was only in her early thirties then, well-maintained, and dressed quite simply. When she came to yoga class, she glanced at me a couple of times and asked, "Coach Qu, how old are you?"

"I'm almost twenty-five," I said.

"Do you have classes on Tuesday nights?

" "Yes. I'm here on Tuesday and Friday nights."

"I think you teach yoga very well. But I don't have much time to come over during the week. Would you like to come to my house as a private instructor when you're free?" she asked me casually, seemingly an experienced person.

"Sure." I replied with a smile, "Leave me your *****. You can contact me later." "She was writing her address in my notebook, her well-maintained neck and chest peeking out—it must have cost a fortune to make her look like she was only in her early twenties.

No time during the week? Probably just bored at home all day.

A couple of days later, she called to ask me out.

We arranged to meet on Thursday night.

She lived in a large apartment complex in Wangjing; only she and her six-year-old son were home when I arrived. I didn't ask where her husband was. If he were home, she wouldn't have come to me for 'practice.'

We started with a proper yoga session, and I began to guide her through the poses. Hand in hand, her breasts pressed against my arm, damp with sweat.

Then we did it.

She moaned with pleasure, clearly satisfied.

I admired her at that moment, but sadly, I didn't feel much pleasure myself. Men are far more stimulating to me than women. I treated her so seriously mainly because it was my job.

One has to be professional, right?

As I left, she said, 'I'll call you when my husband isn't around.' 'Sure.'" I nodded.

The frequency with which she contacted me afterwards made me think her husband wasn't just busy, but genuinely "absent."

About two months later, it was another Thursday.

I was giving Zhang Yali a "massage," and she was getting really excited, almost to the point of rolling off to bed. Suddenly,

her son shouted excitedly from the living room, "Dad! Dad! Mom, Dad's home!" Then I heard the door close.

I broke out in a cold sweat. Being caught in bed with someone else would be a first. Zhang Yali, however, didn't seem to be in a hurry. She slowly put on her clothes and told me to get dressed too.

"Sorry, you should go home first today. I'll meet you later." She seemed apologetic, but not particularly worried about her husband's return.

I immediately understood something.

Following Zhang Yali out of the living room, I saw a man squatting at the door, happily playing with her son. I felt a wave of embarrassment. I tugged at my coat, feeling like I was still naked.

"Why are you back?" “Zhang Yali asked.

The man looked up, pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, smiled politely, and his eyes swept over me, as if he already knew what I did.

“Oh…” he began slowly, his voice very slow, polite and deep, “I forgot to bring my documents. I need them for the meeting tomorrow. Could you get them for me?” Zhang Yali looked at him, then at me, and said, “Okay, I’ll go get them for you.” Then only he, me, and the child remained in the living room.

“Well… sir, I’ll be going now.” I coughed, trying to cover it up.

“My name is Song Jianping, may I ask your surname, sir?” Song Jianping spoke slowly, but his words abruptly interrupted my intention, leaving me no choice but to answer.

“No need for formalities, my surname is Qu, Qu Xiaoyi. I am Ms. Zhang’s private coach.” “I’ve heard Yali mention you before.” He smiled, as if he already knew everything. “It’s getting late, and I see it’s starting to snow outside. I’ll take Mr. Qu home later.” “That’s not good, I’m so sorry.” “I said,” I said, “I can go back by myself.” As I spoke, I bent down to put on my shoes.

Zhang Yali had already brought out a file folder from the bedroom and handed it to Song Jianping.

“I’ll see you out.” As soon as I opened the door, Song Jianping grabbed my arm from behind, brooking no protest.

In the end, I went out with Song Jianping. It was really snowing outside, quite heavily. It was a while to walk from this neighborhood to the subway, and it was impossible to get a taxi.

In the end, I could only take Song Jianping’s car.

When we got out of the parking lot, I realized Song Jianping’s car was an Audi. The license plate didn’t have any good numbers, but the letters inside were quite strange, starting with “zy. ”

I didn’t remember D city issuing license plates with those letters.

I opened the door and got in, and Song Jianping sat down next to me.

“Deputy Director.” The driver in front turned around and greeted me.

He had a driver.

“Hmm.” "Let's take Mr. Qu to..." Song Jianping looked at me.

I told him a place outside the Fifth Ring Road.

The car quickly got on the road.

Song Jianping had a very low aura. Although he looked refined, I felt quite restrained sitting next to him. He kept his eyes closed the whole way, resting. When we were almost there, he suddenly opened his eyes and asked me, "What kind of courses does Mr. Qu teach?" "I mainly teach yoga, and occasionally ballroom dancing," I replied.

"Hmm. Gyms are very popular now." He nodded. "Do you have a business card?" The car stopped in my neighborhood.

"Yes." I inexplicably took out a business card and gave it to him.

"I'll sign up next time I have time," he smiled, "but I don't have time to go to the gym." His expression was ambiguous in the dim light, and I couldn't tell what he meant.

"Okay, Mr. Song, thank you," I said as I got out of the car. "

You're welcome." He leaned out of the car, pushed up his glasses, and smiled, "Oh, right. You're right, Zhang Yali is indeed my mistress." He admitted it readily, but I felt ashamed that my thoughts had been exposed.

When he saw my expression, he just smiled and urged the driver to leave.

2. The First Man (2) …

Zhang Yali called me again, two weeks had passed, and it was almost February 2008.

She asked me to come to her house that Thursday.

I agreed.

I originally wanted to ask her about her relationship with Song Jianping. But thinking about Song Jianping's attitude when he talked about Zhang Yali, I held back.

Their relationship was absurd.

My relationship with Zhang Yali was also absurd.

It was utterly absurd for Song Jianping to mention this to me.

But even knowing this, thinking about the generous "coaching fee" that Zhang Yali deposited into my account every month, I still decided to continue.

That Thursday was quite cold. I wore a lot of clothes, and when I got off the subway and walked to that neighborhood, I was almost frozen. There were many cars parked downstairs at Zhang Yali's building, but I didn't see Song Jianping's Audi from before.

There was a very nice black Corolla with a very ordinary license plate, but the Corolla wasn't expensive, and I had wanted to buy it for a long time. Before going upstairs, I couldn't help but take a second look.

The person who opened the door was Song Jianping.

I froze.

Was he catching them in the act?

"Teacher Qu, please come in?" he greeted politely, the word "teacher" escaping his lips as if he were implying I was a "hypocrite."

"Miss Zhang, she…" I didn't move, asking in a strained voice.

"She took Xiaobao out today. She's not home." He smiled, adding, "She wasn't home all night." I looked at him; he maintained that polite smile.

The meaning was obvious.

"Since she's not here, I'd better go back first." I calmed down. "I'll reschedule with Miss Zhang." "She's not here, can't she teach me?" Song Jianping offered a perfectly reasonable suggestion. "I happen to be free today. I'm very curious about how yoga works. Teacher Qu, don't worry, the instructor's fee will be calculated as usual." Lending out her own house, letting her man sleep with another man. What was Zhang Yali thinking?

I couldn't help but laugh.

Song Jianping handled this awkward situation with ease, his expression as righteous as if he were discussing life and ideals. Even if he took off his clothes, would he still act this way?

I looked at his loose white shirt collar and rolled-up sleeves.

Suddenly, I was very curious.

I put on some Bandari music. I changed into yoga clothes.

Song Jianping was still dressed in his suit and tie.

"You won't be able to stretch properly like this for a while," I dutifully reminded him.

"The teacher will demonstrate first, I'll watch first," he refused with a smile, "I heard that people who practice yoga are very flexible." "I usually teach Miss Zhang some body-maintenance movements. The basic movements aren't very difficult..." I ignored his meaningful remark.

Song Jianping was too direct, which made his politeness a kind of understated danger.

We did a few stretching movements first: Sun Salutation, Lark Pose, and Pigeon Pose.

Song Jianping watched from behind the whole time.

My nerves relaxed slightly. I lay down on the floor, flat, crossed my arms above my head, and took a deep breath, tensing all my muscles. This was supposed to be the stick pose from the basic movements.

But by the third time I repeated it, Song Jianping had already squatted down and unbuttoned my clothes.

I should be thankful for the nature of my job; I specifically chose a yoga top that could be unbuttoned from the front. If I were wearing a tight-fitting tank top today, how could I expect Song Jianping to maintain his refined yet lecherous demeanor while undressing me?

"Teacher Qu, your muscles are so toned and beautiful." His eyes gleamed behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his right hand seemingly playing with something, roughly kneading my chest.

Before I could move on to the next pose, I was left wearing only a pair of tight shorts.

"If you're too busy at work, your shoulders and arms can become strained due to muscle tension. The Lizard Pose can relieve and relax these areas." After completing the Stick Pose, lie face down, spread your legs and hands to support your weight, then lower your upper body to the ground, lifting your buttocks. Take a deep breath.

This is a pure pose.

But it resonates so perfectly with the back pose.

I always start my private coaching sessions with this pose, which is considered a "core project."

My students always cooperate very well with me. Song Jianping was no exception. I had just lowered myself when he pressed down on me, pinning me between the floor and himself.

One hand pulled down my pants, groping my buttocks.

The other hand reached forward, circling my genitals.

"Teacher Qu, you'd better teach me this move properly," he said with a gentle smile as he entered me.

What happened next, I don't know who was teaching whom.

Song Jianping was only thirty-five in 2008, still in his prime, very strong, and every penetration was incredibly satisfying.

He was a seasoned pro.

Dealing with a greenhorn like me was a piece of cake.

A few weeks ago, Zhang Yali was moaning and groaning beneath me on the bed next to us.

A few weeks later, I was being forced to beg for mercy by her man on the floor of the same room.

This world is so damn twisted.

Song Jianping hadn't brought a condom, and before he ejaculated inside me, I pushed him out. His smile instantly turned cold. I knew he was unhappy.

An unhappy client will complain to the boss, and the boss will fire you.

So I never upset my clients.

I sucked it out for him with my mouth and swallowed it.

Song Jianping was satisfied. As he finished dressing, he patted my face: "I'll take Teacher Qu home." I didn't refuse. As I stood up to get dressed, I suddenly remembered that Song Jianping had always been so kind and gentle.

"Damn it." I scratched my completely soaked hair and couldn't help but curse.

When I got dressed and went downstairs with Song Jianping, it was almost ten o'clock. It's cold in the north at night, and there are few people.

I watched Song Jianping walk straight to the Corolla, open the door, and get in.

So this was his car.

"Where's your Audi?" I asked him as I sat down in the passenger seat.

“That’s not mine, it belongs to my workplace,” Song Jianping said. “I usually drive this one. The driver picks me up in the other one when I go to work. Last time I was in a hurry, so I just drove it directly here.” “Why don’t you buy an expensive one, like a Mercedes or a BMW?” I asked. “Aren’t you quite rich?” He glanced at me with a smile, as if I were a country bumpkin.

“As long as the car can run, what’s the point of having something so fancy? It’s never a good thing to attract too much attention.” He looked intently at the road ahead and answered me casually.

3. The second man…

Song Jianping was a good lover.

For me, there were many people much worse than him. And this person seemed to have played an important role in my life.

At least that was the case in 2008.

This person was named Zhang Teng.

Back in 2006, when I had just started working as a yoga instructor, I ran into him at a small gym. That gym had a list of recommended instructors, and the photos on the list changed every month. That time, the photos had just been changed, but the names below them hadn't. I had just arrived at the gym that afternoon, changed my clothes, and was warming up when I heard the rapid clatter of high heels approaching me. A slap landed on my face. I was bent over changing, and the slap sent me sprawling to the floor.

A woman with bright red nail polish was standing there, hurling all sorts of bizarre insults—slut, bitch, vixen—but the name she called out was "Zhang Teng."

Sitting on the floor, it took me a while to realize she had mistaken me for her rival, and I couldn't help but burst into heartless laughter.

Whether I was Zhang Teng or not is another matter; those few words were really childish.

Later I found out that the woman's husband had been seduced by a fitness instructor, and her timing was terrible—half of the photos in the shop window had just been changed, and my photo had been pasted over Zhang Teng's name. That's how this whole farce happened.

The day I was told I was fired, Zhang Teng and I came out of the gym together.

He was carrying a bag. So was I.

We stood at the intersection waiting for a taxi. After a long wait, a car finally came, and he told me to go first. I looked at his exposed arms and suddenly became interested.

"I said, let's go together," I invited him.

He only thought for a second before throwing his bag into the back of the car, sitting next to me intimately, his muscular thighs pressed tightly against me, his body heat making my heart tremble.

My first time with him was amazing.

The feeling of his strong, rock-like body pressing against me was more than just excitement and stimulation. I thought of the words that poor woman had used to insult him.

"Slut, bitch, vixen... "

I couldn't help but burst out laughing again.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked, thinking it was because his technique wasn't good enough, and gave me a hard slap.

I screamed while simultaneously bursting into laughter.

Zhang Teng's Tarzan-like physique didn't deserve those descriptions at all. He just had the ability to turn the people beneath him into sluts, bitches, and vixens.

Then, almost inexplicably, he moved in with me.

Maybe it was because of his good technique.

Maybe it was because he was also a coach and understood my true job.

At home, we were a couple; outside, we were bed partners.

We understood each other and progressed together.

At first, I almost thought I was falling for him. I put in more effort than ever before to maintain our relationship. Until he secretly used money from my card to go to a nightclub, came home drunk, and beat me up.

I was taken to the hospital, broke two ribs, had eight stitches in my forehead, and suffered a mild concussion. When I needed to be hospitalized for observation, I didn't even have money to pay the hospital fees.

I suddenly realized.

Everything is a mess when you're broke.

Zhang Teng later knelt down and begged me to forgive him. I forgave him. But I changed all my passwords and never slept with him again after he drank.

After my first time sleeping with Song Jianping, I received a "training fee" call from Zhang Yali, only slightly more than what she had given me before. To be honest, I was a little disappointed.

But then I thought of his "Corolla sedan," and I felt relieved.

Someone who drives so carefully would naturally handle this in the most inconspicuous way.

Later, I went to Zhang Yali's place a few more times. Each time, she called, and when I arrived, Song Jianping and I were always there; Zhang Yali wasn't there.

She was always out with her son to see a movie or visiting her parents. I often couldn't help but ask Song Jianping, "Do mistresses also have families?"

He treated me very normally.

The way he looked at me was like a client's gaze.

Every time he drove me home in his Corolla, I couldn't help but wonder how many times a week Zhang Yali had to work as a pimp to keep her "second wife" position.

I joked about this with Zhang Teng when I got home.

But Zhang Teng was unusually worried about me: "You said Song Jianping works in a government office?" "I think so." He has a driver, and the driver calls him Deputy Director.

"Xiaoyi, you should take fewer jobs from him." He advised me, "It's best not to mess with people who live off the government." I didn't care: "Come on, he's just a deputy director of a district bureau at most. He has three men doing odd jobs. How powerful can he be?" "Xiaoyi, I'm worried about you." Zhang Teng said very seriously, making me think he was deeply in love with me.

"Come on." I rejected him, "Zhang Teng, we made a deal. You don't care about me, and I don't care about you." No matter what you do, I will get more money than you.

I don't care how you squander my money outside.

Zhang Teng is a scumbag.

I am an even bigger scumbag.

I know it clearly.

So Zhang Teng is a very good bed partner, nothing more.

4 The first man (3) ...

Song Jianping and I spent some time like this.

It felt no different from Zhang Yali.

I still got the money.

It was just that it took longer, the actions were more intense, and the emotions were more intense.

Every time I went to see Song Jianping, Zhang Teng would get really upset and keep telling me to ask Song Jianping what he did for a living.

I refused.

He would just smoke alone in silence.

One Thursday in late March, I had just finished my evening class and was packing my bag when I saw an Audi parked outside the gym. It looked familiar, and before I could even walk over, the window rolled down.

"Coach Qu! Coach Qu," the driver called softly.

I went over and saw it was Song Jianping's driver; I'd met him once before. "

Director Song asked me to wait for you here," the driver said .

"Huh?" I was a little surprised, but I didn't hesitate. If we were seen here, it wouldn't be good for either of us.

I got in the car, and the driver turned around and headed straight for Chang'an Avenue. I was a little curious.

"Where are we going?"

"Coach Qu, you'll know when we get there," the driver said. "

Where's Mr. Song?" "

He's busy; he asked me to pick you up." The driver clearly didn't want to say anything more.

So I fell silent. Song Jianping was clearly not some district bureau chief. I didn't know what he did or what his position was. But how many leaders could have a trusted driver who could even pick up and drop off their mistresses and lovers?

The Audi moved slowly through the traffic, and as it approached Wangfujing, it turned onto a side street, then wound its way through several lanes before stopping in front of a courtyard house in a quiet alley.

The driver got out and opened the small door for me: "The house has everything you need. Director Song said he wanted Coach Qu to watch some TV, and he'll be there in a minute." I went inside, looking at the quaint courtyard, and suddenly felt a little dizzy.

Not from fear, but from excitement.

In this area of Beijing, what kind of person could own a courtyard house?

Even if you had a hundred million or two hundred million, without power and influence, how could you acquire such a small courtyard?

I knew in my heart that Zhang Teng was right. It's best not to mess with those who live off the government.

The small courtyard was clearly well-maintained and cared for; the doors were gleaming, the window frames were brand new, the railings were bright red, and there was even a rockery and pond in the yard, where eight or nine plump koi carp were kept.

I took some snacks from the refrigerator in the kitchen to feed the fish. The koi carp, which were obviously overweight, ate with great relish, huddled together, wriggling and splashing around.

I couldn't help but laugh, so I threw a whole bag of snacks into the pond.

As I wiped my hands and turned around, I saw Song Jianping standing behind me, which startled me.

"Hello, Mr. Song," I greeted him.

His expression was a little unpleasant, and he just stared at the koi carp in the pond, saying, "These are Japanese Taisho Sanshoku koi..." "Very expensive?" I asked instinctively. "

Only koi carp are found in feng shui locations," he didn't answer directly.

But I guessed they must be very expensive.

"Never mind." He sighed finally, turning to look at me. "How long have you been here?" As he spoke, he took off his coat, revealing an open-collared shirt. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

"A while ago." I snapped back to reality. "Why didn't you invite me to Zhang Yali's place today?" "Yali's parents are here. It wouldn't be good for you to go." He pulled me into the house. "I just finished with them and rushed over." He said it as if it were a matter of course, as if he were a very good son-in-law.

"What's wrong?" He noticed my strange expression, then smiled knowingly. "You're wondering if Zhang Yali's parents know about me and her." "It is quite strange." I admitted helplessly. Song Jianping was indeed a leader; he could tell what I was thinking in an instant. In front of this man, you couldn't use your brain at all.

"Of course they know." Song Jianping said, "However, Yali's brother got into trouble, and I helped him pull some strings. I even found him a decent job. So, her parents didn't have any objections." Trouble, pull strings, find a job.

A few casually spoken words, yet somewhat terrifying.

"So, you like Zhang Yali?" I asked again.

He saw me laugh, as if mocking me for being an idiot.

"What do you mean, 'like'?" Song Jianping said in a refined tone, "My wife can't have children. I just want a son." Much later, I learned that Song Jianping, in order to climb the social ladder, married his boss's daughter. He then exchanged a house and residency permit for Zhang Yali to bear him a son. After doing all this, he suddenly remembered that he was actually more interested in men.

So he slept with his mistress's private trainer.

That was me.

"Teacher Qu, what moves are you going to teach me today?" He pushed me onto the bed, spreading my legs, and asked me lewdly. But his attitude was as serious as if he were truly a student.

I naturally couldn't answer that question.

So he decisively entered me.

The intense, rapid thrusting made me feel like he was about to have an epileptic seizure; even his ever-gentlemanly face was flushed and sweating with excitement. He began to nibble and bite at my body. It started with light touches, then grew increasingly rough until I cried out in pain, yet he relentlessly bit through several patches of my skin.

Then he kissed me with his blood-stained tongue.

This time he ejaculated inside me. Because I couldn't push him away at all. It was deep and hot. I trembled with excitement, experiencing an absurd feeling of being possessed for the first time.

If I were to talk to Song Jianping about morality and humanity, he would find it hilarious. He would think the person who said that to him was a clown.

After making love, I inexplicably asked this question, and thus I became the clown.

"Teacher Qu, I never knew you were so innocent." My question aroused his interest, so he pressed me down and did it a second time.

"Bullshit... this... where the hell is the innocence?" I asked him through gritted teeth in exasperation.

"Morality, law, ethics. These are all shackles imposed on the ruled by the rulers of the superstructure." He licked my ear, nibbling and mumbling, "In other words, once you climb high enough... the higher you climb, the more you can break free from this pile of hypocrisy. Only fools care about this." His tone was somewhat hurried.

But his refined image remained undiminished, because his language was elegant and textbook-like. Even though he was doing something worse than an animal.

According to Song Jianping... being a dog is actually happier.

That's right!

The argument is complete, the reasoning is correct.

So I suddenly understood.

Song Jianping and Zhang Yali were both willing to give and receive, so why should I dwell on it? After putting it into practice, the coaching fee is the most important.

5 The third man...

Later, naturally, the place where Song Jianping and I had our trysts changed from Zhang Yali's house to this courtyard house.

The second time I came, the pond was empty, and not a single koi could be seen.

"Where are the fish?" I asked Song Jianping.

He was silent for a while before saying, "They're dead." His face looked rather pale.

"Why?"

"You fed them too much at once. They choked to death," he said.

Looking at his unusually pale face, I found it somewhat amusing: "Were those fish very expensive? Should I pay you back with my body?" He sighed: "Never mind, I'll just have someone send a few more over."

"Why are you so upset? It's just a few fish," I said casually.

"Koi need to be fed carefully, only with special fish food." Then he started to chatter on and on about how to raise koi, eventually turning to how to fish, what bait to use, what float to use, and how many kilograms of big fish he had caught. He seemed completely addicted to fishing.

At first, I could barely manage a couple of replies, but later I got so annoyed by his rambling that I just sat there and fell asleep.

Then I was woken up by the pain of being pierced. Song Jianping, holding me in his arms, sat down in the pavilion next to the pond and squeezed in. Without lubrication, in the awkward position, my hands were bound behind my back with his tie, making it impossible to hold onto anything.

Song Jianping's face swayed in front of me, and I drifted along like a leaf on the water.

"Teacher Qu, you're not paying attention during work hours, you really need to be punished," Song Jianping said hatefully as he continued his act.

Fear and the hazy feeling of waking up pushed the pleasure to an unprecedented level.

"Jianping, I can't take it anymore. Jianping, have mercy on me." I was completely dazed by him, and only these two sentences kept repeating. I screamed and shouted, excitedly but without reason.

He pulled my legs as wide as possible, thrusting deep inside me, then grabbed my shoulders, pressed me down in front of him, and frantically sucked on my tongue.

Even after he was done, he still wouldn't leave my body.

He just held me like that, seemingly gently saying, "Teacher, when we have time, let's go fishing." My voice was hoarse from shouting, and I had no strength to answer.

I just felt that Song Jianping...

must be equally skilled at fishing and fishing for people.

Later, the koi in that pond reappeared, but I lost interest in feeding them snacks.

One Thursday, after the koi had started to wriggle and fatten up again, on a rare sunny day, Song Jianping invited me fishing. I prepared all my gear early, and when he arrived to pick me up, he kept giving me a funny look.

"What are you laughing at?" I couldn't help but ask him.

"What's this?"

"Sunscreen."

"What's this?"

"Mosquito repellent."

"And this?"

"A folding lounge chair."

"And this?"

"A netbook."

He finally threw all my stuff into the trunk and concluded, "We're going fishing, not sunbathing." "Fishing is such a boring thing, who wants to do that?" I retorted. "

Me?" he said as he drove, "Trust me. Every man would like it." "Uncle, only middle-aged and elderly men like that kind of sport." I countered. "Don't generalize." "Oh? So tell me, what would make you willing to go fishing?" "

If I could not worry about the fishing rod and could surf the internet, chat, and watch movies at the same time, I might consider it." I thought for a moment and told him seriously.

He chuckled: "Sunbathing, of course." He drove me to a resort by a reservoir in the suburbs, where someone came out to meet him from afar. After packing our things, and with someone showing us around, we went to eat. Around 2 PM, we took our fishing gear to the reservoir.

I knew absolutely nothing about Song Jianping's equipment. Hooks, floats, fishing lines, fishing rods—everything came in countless sizes. I watched him assemble each item, mixing the bait with remarkable professionalism.

From the moment we left Beijing that morning until now, Song Jianping had been in an exceptionally good mood. It surprised me. His laughter and banter were several times more frequent than usual. It was as if he had suddenly come alive.

Fishing was completely different from what I had previously known.

A fishing rod, casting the line, and then quietly waiting for a long time—that was the fishing I remembered.

Song Jianping laughed, saying that was outdated.

Now he casts double hooks, two hooks on one rod. He even said that for sea fishing, he could cast six hooks at once.

The time was also incredibly fast. He'd cast the line into the water, thirty seconds, less than a minute at most, and then pull it up. The float bobbed in various ways, sometimes with a fish, sometimes not. Song Jianping, however, was extremely focused. It was as if these unseen fish were his greatest enemies.

"The fun of fishing lies in your battle of wits with the fish. Every fish takes the bait differently. The float indicates whether a fish is taking the bait," he said, while carefully observing the float on the water's surface as he rubbed the bait. "That float is like the human heart. Even if you try to figure it out a hundred or a thousand times, you still

won't be able to figure it out the next time you encounter it." "That's too tiring," I said, still uninterested in fishing. "You're wrong," he smiled, "This is when you're most relaxed. You don't have to think about anything except fishing. You don't have to know anyone except the fish. Isn't that great? Very relaxing." I was taken aback by what he said.

A person can only say they are relaxed when they are fishing.

That's too helpless.

After fishing for three hours, I idly played Minesweeper on my netbook.

Song Jianping's fish basket already contained more than thirty fish.

The person who had greeted us earlier came over with a fawning smile and whispered a few words in Song Jianping's ear. Song Jianping paused, his brow furrowing slightly.

The man smiled again, becoming even more attentive, though a bead of sweat appeared on his forehead.

Song Jianping finally sighed, "Let him come over."

The man bowed deeply in thanks and quickly left.

I was curious about who this person was who could find Song Jianping at this time, someone Song Jianping was so reluctant to see.

A moment later, a tall man wearing straight-leg jeans, a polo shirt, and sunglasses appeared, carrying fishing gear.

He walked over, and I glanced at him.

Not yet thirty. He had the air of a businessman. Perhaps a successful elite?

He also noticed me, took off his sunglasses, and smiled at me.

I was instantly captivated.

Such bright eyes.

Short, flat hair, a broad forehead, a deep nose, and full lips. His skin was slightly honey-colored, and his beard was neatly shaved.

Rugged, masculine, and cultured.

That was my first impression of him.

As I was thinking this, he had already placed the fishing gear next to Song Jianping, and generously extended his hand to Song Jianping, then said in a very sexy voice: "Hello, Director Song, I am Xu Jing."

6 The third man (2) ...

I didn't want to hear what Xu Jing and Song Jianping were discussing.

I suppose they weren't interested in me hearing it either. I put on my headphones and put on some rock music. ACDC's rock music is the best.

Highway to Hell.

Aren't we speeding towards hell on the highway?

The two men stopped after I finished listening to the fourth song. Xu Jing obviously didn't get what he wanted. But he was very calm, so he must have been mentally prepared. The two started fishing, occasionally exchanging fishing tips. It wasn't until it was almost dark that this boring day ended. Xu Jing packed up and left first. My netbook was also almost out of power. I was waiting for Song Jianping.

He poured the whole basket of fish back into the water. Fifty or sixty fish were splashing in the water, which was quite spectacular.

"Why did you release the fish?" I asked in confusion.

"Eating fish is pointless, just consider it accumulating good karma," Song Jianping said with a benevolent look.

I thought he was talking nonsense without thinking; if you want to accumulate good karma, don't go fishing in the first place.

"Besides, the process of fishing is more important than eating fish," Song Jianping added with a smile, seemingly aware of my inner thoughts. I instinctively knew this was the truth.

Enjoy the hunt.

Later, I thought, Song Jianping must be that kind of person.

We didn't go back that night; we stayed at the resort.

Song Jianping was like he'd taken Viagra, incredibly vigorous; several times he made me feel dizzy and lightheaded.

"Was it good?" he asked with a laugh.

My lower body felt like it was being pierced by an iron rod, burning and painful; how could I possibly speak?

If before I was somewhat playing along, this time I was completely overwhelmed by his pleasure. It's just that he's always been self-sufficient; it's rare for him to come and serve me.

"This is a reward." Song Jianping seemed to know what I was thinking. "You did very well today. You have good judgment." He patted my head, as if petting a pet.

He was probably referring to the fact that I hadn't eavesdropped on their conversation.

I found it amusing: "What's the point of listening to those ridiculous things? I don't want to get myself into trouble. I'm already 'slutty' enough."

The joke was really lame, but Song Jianping laughed heartily.

"Then I'll make you even slutty." Song Jianping lowered his voice and said softly.

I think Song Jianping has one strength: he can always put on a gentlemanly act. This time was no exception.

Xu Jing is a businessman. Businessmen are very shrewd in their dealings.

I forgot about that. So I never expected him to try to get to me.

It was April, 2008, Beijing, a city restless with high housing prices, the Olympics, and the elections.

Many people chose to leave, while many more came attracted by its reputation.

The ballroom dance instructor at a gym in a villa area near Hepingmen left, and they couldn't find a suitable replacement. The owner, who knew me fairly well, asked me to fill in for a couple of days. I teach yoga, but I was forced into this role.

"This is a high-end neighborhood, isn't it a bit much to try and fool people like this?" I said helplessly before the class started.

"That's precisely why nobody cares how well you teach in a high-end neighborhood. Everyone here knows how to dance. You're just there to put on a show and earn some extra cash on the side," the owner said meaningfully.

He probably genuinely thought I was a pimp.

I believed him. Sure enough

, only three or four people attended the first class. But the next day, a young woman approached me.

"Teacher, I'd like to ask you to come to my house and teach my brother," the girl said, her expression very sincere.

I observed her carefully for a while; she didn't seem to have any ulterior motives. The girl was too young; she was probably still in university and didn't know about the gym and private instructor story.

After considering it, I nodded in agreement.

After class, I went home with her. Her home was in the neighborhood. She said it wasn't her house, it belonged to her brother. As for why she was in such a hurry, there was a banquet and dance the next day, and her brother couldn't dance, so she needed to cram at the last minute.

Her brother's villa was quite large, four stories high, with two garages, a ten-meter swimming pool in the yard, and grapevines all around.

Entering the hall, a huge crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the 5.6-meter height made me dizzy.

Every detail spoke of the owner's wealth.

After the girl pulled her brother down from upstairs, I was surprised to find it was Xu Jing.

He smiled and extended his hand to me: "Hello, Coach Qu, I'm Xu Jing."

He wasn't surprised at all, as if he had expected it.

Thinking about the whole story, I couldn't help but laugh.

This Xu Jing was doing it on purpose.

I shook his hand and replied, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Xu, I'm Qu Xiaoyi."

After the girl left, I started teaching him ballroom dancing. But Xu Jing danced ballroom much better than me. He didn't need any instruction.

“Mr. Xu, you can do everything, why waste this money?” I asked him.

“Actually, I just wanted to see you,” Xu Jing said flirtatiously in my ear.

“Didn’t you see me enough last time?” I asked with a smile.

“Song Jianping is right next to you, how could I dare to go up and talk to him?” he asked with a smile.

“I didn’t realize that Mr. Xu, who is so rich, still has someone he’s afraid of.”

“Money and power are indistinguishable. Money can’t suppress power. No matter how rich I am, how can I suppress someone with more power than me?” he said, then suddenly laughed in a frivolous way, “But being afraid is one thing… doing it is another.”

There was a certain charm to his words. Song Jianping only cares about his own comfort. Xu Jing, on the other hand, is quite particular about romance. I knew that his meeting with me was inseparable from Song Jianping, but I still thought he really had something to do with me.

He looked like a playboy who played the field, his foreplay was skillful and wonderful.

In addition to his own penis, he had all kinds of sex toys.

Most importantly, he came in wearing a condom.

Song Jianping never uses condoms. He's certain he's not sick, as if he's convinced I am. Not only does he not use condoms, but he also insists on ejaculating inside me. If he showers with me, he'll tease me with his fingers. While he's poking me in the slippery mess, he'll make me lick his fingers clean with great interest.

"Teacher Qu, look, you're all wet inside," he'll conclude with this perverted statement.

I think he's actually bisexual. He doesn't get enough pleasure with women. When he has sex with men, he wants them to simulate female anal sex to increase his stimulation.

Aside from his respectable appearance, Song Jianping is a twisted pervert inside and out.

Xu Jing, on the other hand, is much more normal. Regardless of whether he uses condoms because he's a germaphobe

, at least condoms protect both of us.

Besides, he's very energetic and has great stamina during sex, always lasting a long time. His young physique, not yet thirty, gives him a great advantage.

I think I prefer sleeping with Xu Jing.

Because I could barely smell a non-rotten odor on him.

7 The Third Man (3) ...

A few days after I left Xu Jing's house, several pure golden koi appeared in Song Jianping's courtyard. They were large and lively. They stood out among the group of Japanese koi.

Song Jianping seemed to really like those fish. I went there twice later, and he fed them himself each time.

Xu Jing called me: "Xiaoyi, I'd like to invite you to dinner."

I couldn't help but laugh at him: "Xu Jing, do you think I'm a fool? Just those two fish, and Song Jianping would give in? Then your matter is really a small matter."

"Hehehe..." He laughed happily on the other end of the phone, "No matter what, this is a good entry point. It's twice as effective with half the effort. I still want to invite you to dinner." "

That depends on what we want to eat." I thought for a moment.

"Okay. Eat whatever you want." He said softly on the phone.

In the end, it wasn't the place I chose to eat. I had never been to the place Xu Jing chose before; it was a certain official restaurant. The entire Ming and Qing dynasty-style building was filled with staff dressed like remnants of the Qing dynasty, from the waiters to the lobby manager.

When I first entered, I felt like I'd traveled to another time.

The prices here were outrageously high. I

glanced at the menu; Xu Jing had ordered a weak drink for 800 yuan a glass. I

took a sip and my tongue felt weak.

For a long time afterward, all my attention was focused on guessing the price of each dish.

"How's the taste?" Xu Jing asked me.

I wiped my mouth: "Taste?... It's alright." I couldn't taste anything at all.

He suddenly laughed: "Xiao Yi, don't you like me?"

I looked at him strangely: "Like?... It's alright."

"I apologize to you," he said.

"Huh?"

"That time before, I did intentionally approach you," he said hesitantly, "but, thanks to you this time... Xiao Yi, I think you're a pretty good person. Let's pretend nothing happened. Don't hold a grudge. Let's pretend we met for the first time today, okay?"

I was momentarily stunned.

Xu Jing was a master of bluffing; his act of playing the Casanova was always top-notch. His words sounded genuinely sincere, yet somehow insincere. I couldn't help but look at him again and again, trying to find a hint of humor on his face, but he didn't give me the chance.

"Are you thinking of formally hiring me as your private coach?" I asked tentatively.

He frowned slightly, then seemed to sigh?

"Well, I guess so," he said.

My heart, which had been pounding with anxiety, finally settled: "Don't worry, Mr. Xu. I'm very good at this."

As we left the restaurant, it started snowing again, strangely.

Xu Jing's car was an Opel GT, large and sturdy with the characteristics of European and American cars, a black convertible with blood-red two seats.

As the car pulled up to the intersection, Xu Jing rolled up the hardtop.

The top clicked mechanically beside me. I sighed enviously.

It was a really nice car.

Much more flashy than Song Jianping's Corolla.

"Xiaoyi."

"Hmm?" I turned to look at him.

The moment the top closed, Xu Jing pinched my chin and gave me a passionate French kiss.

Green light.

A chorus of horns blared behind us.

He released me, stepped on the gas, and sped off. We stared at each other in the car, laughing so hard we could barely breathe.

Xu Jing was such a charming man.

I was practically drowning in his sweet talk.

Song Jianping had called me over, but because of Xu Jing's harassment, I'd made excuses to avoid him for three or four weeks straight. I spent my days fooling around with Xu Jing in every corner of Beijing.

At night, we'd just find a hotel and check in.

We used condoms by the dozen.

Xu Jing's energy, like his money, seemed inexhaustible; he never hesitated to spend money on me. This reminded me deeply of Song Jianping's "low-key" nature.

One day in early April 2008, Xu Jing took me to one of his hotels. At that bustling intersection stood two five-star hotels side-by-side, separated by a meter-wide gap, forming an "L" shape.

"My uncle and I each invested some money to acquire this land. Later, he had a falling out with me. So we each built a hotel. We spent some money and got the five-star rating," he said.

I couldn't think of a response.

He didn't expect me to say something so profound and led me to the hotel's entertainment area. The third-floor entertainment area was a large karaoke bar. Xu Jing had invited a few of his cronies to sing.

Just after eight o'clock, the rooms and lobby were full, and men dressed in seven-colored robes led women in seven-colored dresses back and forth in the corridors. Sometimes there were ten women in red, sometimes ten in blue. The women were all very young, probably no more than twenty, and even prettier than the Miss Asia contestants of the year. Each one, dignified and virtuous, looked like a pure young girl.

Just like the people singing karaoke in this hotel, everyone was dressed impeccably; they would all be celebrities, elites, pillars of society.

If a guest in a room had a favorite, they would ask the ladies to "order" a drink. The seven-colored ladies would then bring a bottle of fine wine into the private room. Sometimes it was Remy Martin, sometimes Hennessy.

Around midnight, the host in the lobby went up to organize a karaoke competition. Each private room had to send someone to sing. The third prize was a free room. The second prize was a 1000ml bottle of Hennessy, and the first prize was a lady in a seven-colored dress.

At this point, the host pointed to the elegant and poised young woman beside him.

"If you win the grand prize, you'll have to carry her home!" he joked. The woman, the one receiving the grand prize, smiled gently; she was beautiful.

Everyone laughed heartily.

"Xiaoyi, you go to our private room," Xu Jing said to me.

I chuckled, "I've been singing random songs ever since I came in. Aren't you afraid I'll embarrass myself?"

"No. I think you're good." He then signed me up, "What are you going to sing?"

"Hmm..." I thought for a moment, then, with a mischievous grin, picked a song, "Tony Leung's 'Body Relationship'." An old song from so many years ago. Such a straightforward old song.

"Okay." Xu Jing laughed too, "'Body Relationship' it is!"

There were over a dozen rooms for the competition, and it was quickly my turn.

Standing in the lobby, the lights came on, and the music video started playing.

This song is really old. So old that I couldn't even remember the key for a long time. It wasn't until the second time that I got the hang of it:

"A glass of fragrant champagne,

half-drunk, we start kissing,

just wanting to stop being single for this moment.

Holding a stranger beside me, who will ask how much fate and destiny there is

after the dream ends ? ... Tonight we waste our time together, dwelling in the darkness. ... Who will ask if there's a warm heart within the body ?" Tone-deaf, lacking in emotion. This half-baked singer was definitely going to be left out of the top three. After arguing with the people in the private room, I ran to the restroom, relieved myself, and then hummed the tune I had just heard while washing my hands. “Teacher Qu is really in a good mood, isn’t he?” Song Jianping’s voice came from behind me. I looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror, standing behind me in a casual suit. His eyes were dark behind his gold-rimmed glasses. Before I could react, he had already leaned against my back, his hands on the sink on either side of me. “What do you mean by…physical relationship… um?” Song Jianping asked dangerously in my ear. 8 The Second Man (2) … I was terrified by Song Jianping. I had never seen him like this before. I froze in his arms, staring blankly at his reflection in the mirror. But then he suddenly smiled politely and kissed my neck. I shuddered reflexively. He asked me in a low voice, “What are you doing here?” “…A friend brought me here.” I wanted to avoid him, but I didn’t dare to move at all. Although he didn’t have three heads and six arms, he still terrified me from the bottom of my heart. "A friend?" He released my hand and stepped aside. "Your student brought you here, right? Not just anyone can come here." "Um, yes." I didn't say much. Since he didn't know Xu Jing had brought me, I instinctively didn't want him to know. I quickly washed my hands and headed out. "Mr. Song, I'll be going now." "Okay." He replied, then seemingly casually added, "Oh, by the way, you've always been busy before. I'll have someone pick you up this Thursday." It wasn't a question. I couldn't refuse. "Okay." I agreed and fled. Xu Jing and his friends were singing happily in the private room. Seeing me come in, he looked puzzled and leaned close to my ear, asking, "What's wrong? You look as pale as if you've seen a ghost." I forced a smile: "Nothing, I drank too much and threw up in the bathroom." Xu Jing patted me worriedly and got me a cup of hot milk. I drank it absentmindedly. That night, I declined Xu Jing's invitation and went home alone. I hadn't been home for almost ten days, yet Zhang Teng had kept the house spotless. I tossed my clothes haphazardly into the living room and collapsed onto the bed, startling Zhang Teng awake. In the darkness, he pulled me into a tight embrace, squeezing my waist hard. "So you finally decided to come home?" he said through gritted teeth. "Yeah," I replied, not wanting to speak, snuggling deeper into his warm arms. His muscles were as hard as stone; resting my head on them felt incredibly safe. "Do you want it?" he asked again. "Yeah."

So he pressed down on me. In the pitch-black room, we wrapped ourselves in the blankets and made love. He pressed his body against me, the weight of the blankets pressing down on me.

I gasped for breath, holding him, suddenly feeling incredibly safe.

"Is Xu Jing any better than me?" Zhang Teng asked from above my head.

"..." I remained silent.

"Who's better?" He stirred the thing still inside me.

"Ah... Zhang Teng!" I punched him, but my fist hurt terribly. "We agreed not to talk about this in the house!"

He froze, turned away, and jumped out of the blankets, crawling into the one next to him. The blankets, now colder without his warmth, instantly felt much colder.

"Zhang Teng," I called.

He had his back to me, facing the wall.

"Zhang Teng, Zhang Teng, Zhang Teng..." I persisted.

He had his back to me, his voice distant: "Sleep."

After a while, he sighed softly: "Xiao Yi, I really don't understand you..."

I was almost asleep, but I forced my eyes open and looked in his direction.

Zhang Teng didn't understand me.

He didn't understand how I could distinguish between the man at work and the man in my personal life.

I never really understood him.

I couldn't understand why he still insisted on being with me, even after all this.

The next morning, I woke up around eleven. I'd just brushed my teeth and went outside to find a steaming meal waiting for me. Zhang Teng took off his apron and looked at me.

"Time to eat," he said.

"Breakfast?"

"Lunch."

"It's so bland," I said, looking at the table full of cabbage and tofu.

"Your eyes are dark, and your skin is sallow. You must have eaten something bad outside. Eat something light to nourish your spleen and stomach." He served me a bowl of rice.

Zhang Teng was a bit of a clean freak.

His house was always spotless. Everything had to be neatly arranged in various storage boxes, big and small, in its designated place.

He was also an excellent cook.

I think that's what made my heart flutter.

No one doesn't want to come home to a clean and tidy house, with a table of food specially prepared for them.

But a good cook isn't necessarily a gentle and kind man.

Just like how not everyone who goes naked isn't a beast.

The same principle applies.

Zhang Teng can be gentle with you one moment, and drunkenly beat people the next, then squander your money.

I was once captivated by him.

Later, I realized.

His hot meals, delicious food, and cleaning were all

just to make himself comfortable.

And I…

was just one of the people he conveniently satisfied.

It was Thursday, around 3 PM, when Song Jianping called. I was playing games in bed, but I had no choice but to obey and go downstairs to catch the car.

Before getting in, I glanced at my balcony.

Zhang Teng was taking out his spring and autumn quilts to air them. He was beating them with a rattan cane, making a slapping sound. His expression was exactly the same as when I first met him in 2006.

I suddenly felt a pang of reluctance.

I thought, maybe I really do like him.

The driver took me to that courtyard house as usual.

It had been a long time since I'd been there; it felt a little unfamiliar.

From the courtyard, I could see Song Jianping sitting in his study, looking at some documents. I silently went in, took off my down jacket, and sat on the tatami mat.

Song Jianping seemed not to see me.

He was engrossed in the documents in his hands.

The stack of documents was very thick.

He read slowly, turning the page only after a long, long time.

After a long, long time, he finally put down the documents, looked up at me, and smiled slightly: "Professor Qu, I'm sorry, I was so engrossed that I didn't see you."

"It's alright. Mr. Song is a very busy man," I replied with a smile. But my heart was pounding.

Song Jianping had never ignored me like this before.

I wondered what he was planning.

He stood up, took the very heavy stack of documents, walked to my side, and said something with a smile that made my mind go blank.

"The person who took you last night. Was it Xu Jing?" he asked.

I tried to remain calm, but I couldn't.

Seeing that I didn't speak, he bent down and leaned close to my eyes, still smiling, his gold-rimmed glasses flashing.

"Professor, why aren't you saying anything? Was it Xu Jing?"

It was clearly a matter of mutual consent, what did it have to do with Song or Xu?

"Yes." My voice was urgent and shrill when I answered, and I paused for a moment before saying, "He is my student."

"Hehe..." Song Jianping straightened his back, "The teacher has quite a lot of students." Then he placed the stack of documents in his hand on the low table next to me. He

tapped it lightly with his slender fingers.

"Teacher Qu, please take a look at this." His voice was low and slow, with something I didn't know hidden in it. It was dangerous and frightening, and I wished I could run away from here in this second.

But I didn't.

I picked up the stack of documents.

Song Jianping showed a satisfied smile.

9 The First Man (4) ...

There are many documents.

Arranged by date.

The earliest one is April 15, 1982. The day I was born. It records in detail what happened when my mother gave birth, including the time, place, people, and amount. Then there is my personal file. From the first grade of elementary school to my graduation from university. One set is the formal file, which is the one that is still in the talent center's archives. The other set is informal, which records many things that even I don't know.

For example, when I went to which bank to open which credit card. When, where, and with whom I fell in love. It listed what I bought at what mall, when, and at what time. It also included

information on my teachers, classmates, and parents.

My bank account number and password, online chat password, email address and password, and online ID and password were also listed. Most ridiculously, it even included all my chat history from the moment I started using the internet.

Next came the profiles of everyone connected to me:

parents, relatives, clients, and friends.

Each person's information was incredibly detailed. I could only skim through it. My fingers were cold, my palms were sweaty.

Then I stopped at a name:

Zhang Teng.

The accompanying photo was a close-up of him at the gym. I turned to the next page. It contained fragmented descriptions of how we met, the frequency of our sexual encounters, and even recent nude photos of us having sex. For

the first time in my life, I felt utterly humiliated.

I don't mind promiscuity. I enjoy sex.

But that doesn't mean I enjoy exposing my life to others, having no privacy whatsoever.

I am a human being.

Not a horny ape that anyone can see through glass.

My hands gripped the folder tightly, a surge of anger and shame making me tremble slightly. I looked up, staring intently at Song Jianping. His smile deepened.

"Keep reading," he said. "It's getting dark."

He had anticipated my reaction. He

was relaxed and at ease, as if he knew the way well.

I couldn't help but wonder how many people in this courtyard, in this room, were like me, watching their lives, humiliated, embarrassed, angry, and terrified, being dissected word by word into a devoid of emotion, analyzed in a purely textual, unfiltered document.

As if I were that document, that object.

I suppressed the absurd thoughts that kept flooding my mind, my thoughts blank and sluggish, forcing myself to grit my teeth and continue reading.

The following materials were recent.

I noticed a document investigating me, dated in the upper left corner in January 2008. That was the date I had just started seeing Zhang Yali.

Song Jianping had actually planned this all along.

"Do you really think I'd just randomly bump into anyone at Ya Li's house?" Song Jianping seemed to know what I was thinking. "And casually tell you she's my mistress."

I remembered the first time I met him, when he leaned out of his car and told me Zhang Ya Li was his mistress—his expression

was clearly that of someone toying with prey that was practically within his grasp.

The document then went on to record my daily activities. It included numerous close-up photos. In the photos, I was completely unaware that someone was taking pictures of me. But the dates on the document were indeed consecutive. He had been having people follow me for months.

Where I was, who I met, who I ate with, who I slept with, how long it took—

down to every single sentence.

I hadn't even reached the end yet. But I really couldn't take it anymore.

Anger made me lose my mind; I suddenly stood up and slammed the stack of documents in my hand against his face. Shame and indignation burned away every last bit of strength in my body. I stood there, panting heavily, yet still feeling suffocated.

The thick file made a loud "thud." Song Jianping's glasses fell to the ground, and blood trickled from his nose. He took two steps back, leaning against the antique-style desk.

Then he opened his eyes.

His gaze was filled with mockery and coldness.

My life, amidst the scattered scraps of paper, had been carelessly trampled under his feet.

He wanted to crush me, as easily as crushing an ant.

With a cold laugh, he slowly wiped the blood from his face, then asked me in his still-gentle voice, "Teacher Qu, what would you like to eat tonight? I recently heard of a good 'official cuisine' restaurant."

Official cuisine?

"Haha." I suddenly found it hilarious, slumped back into my seat, and asked him dejectedly, "Director Song, what do you want me to do?"

"I have an apartment in Yizhuang, it's been empty for a long time." His voice came from directly in front of me, like a nightmare. "You commute from Tongzhou to the city center every day, it's a long way. Why don't you move there? Once you're settled, find the necessary documents, fill out the forms, and I'll help you transfer your household registration to Beijing."

I couldn't help but laugh: "Do you think I'm Zhang Yali? I have my own house. I'm not a woman, I can't have children. What would I need a Beijing household registration for?"

Moving to his designated place. Changing my household registration to his designated city.

It's like his property has been branded.

"Think about it." He didn't say much more, glancing at his watch. "Let's go eat."

"I'm not hungry. I want to go back." I replied weakly.

"...Then I'll take you back." He said.

"I'll walk myself." I refused his offer.

"Xiaoyi." He called my name for the first time when I opened the door. "Your birthday is on the 15th, right? Seven days left. I'll give you seven days to think it over." He paused, then added, "Wherever you go, as long as you're still in China, I think I can still find a way. Just stay home."

I felt a wave of suffocation and irritation wash over me. I turned back and asked him, "Director Song, you just need to snap your fingers, and a bunch of people will be lining up to do your business. Why do you have to force me?"

He smiled and said, "I'm actually a very loyal person."

Damn it, that was the most fucking ridiculous joke I'd ever heard.

After leaving the courtyard, I couldn't help but curse.

Seven days?

There weren't even seven days.

I knew perfectly well.

Song Jianping was in complete control. I was no match for him.

After walking for a while, I started to feel cold.

I wasn't wearing my down jacket

. My wallet was in the

down jacket pocket. I hugged myself, shivering in the dark alley. Occasionally, I could see one or two dim streetlights. But the light gradually sank into the deeper darkness.

My heart sank.

10 The second man (3) …

I found two yuan in my pocket.

Luckily, I was able to take the subway home.

There were many strangers on the subway. Perhaps some of them were sent by Song Jianping. Somewhere in the crowd.

An hour later, I arrived at the apartment building.

There were no lights in my apartment.

Zhang Teng was not home.

Thank goodness. This gave me plenty of time to shower, eat, and change clothes. I covered up my disheveled appearance. When I lay down on the sofa to watch TV, the news broadcast had just ended.

Song Jianping is indeed very capable. He had accumulated a lot of power and released it all at once. It stunned me. But what exactly is his position? What can he do to me? Can he really control everything in China?

This country still has laws.

I have been working for three years and saved over 100,000 yuan. If I sell the house I live in now and pay off the bank mortgage, I will still have 200,000 to 300,000 yuan. Adding and subtracting, if I leave Beijing, I will have about 500,000 yuan. With this money, I will go back to my hometown. "Can't I do something? "

I felt a little more at ease.

I heard the sound of keys turning at the door. Zhang Teng was back.

He was startled when he saw me: "What are you doing home?"

"Song Jianping had something to do tonight, so I came back first," I made up an excuse.

"Oh." He closed the door, sat down beside me, and hugged me. "You don't look well?"

"I probably caught a cold," I said.

He smelled faintly of alcohol.

And the familiar scent of tobacco.

"Zhang Teng," I pushed him away, put my hand on his shoulder, looked at him seriously, and said very earnestly, "Come back to my hometown with me. We'll start our own business."

I don't think I've ever seriously asked anyone for anything in my life.

Zhang Teng made me make an exception once again.

He paused, then laughed in surprise, "Xiaoyi, what did you say? Are you drunk?"

"I said, come home with me. Let's quit working in Beijing. Let's go back to our hometown and open our own small shop. We'll be our own bosses." I patiently repeated.

"Why did you suddenly have this idea?" he asked.

I lowered my head, touching his jeans. The jeans were tight, revealing strong muscles underneath.

"How should I put it? Actually, I've had this idea for a long time. We've been working in Beijing since 2006. That's long enough. Your money plus mine, we have at least seven or eight hundred thousand. We can buy a house back in our hometown, open a small shop, and that'll be more than enough. Wouldn't it be nice to live comfortably for the rest of our lives?"

"What about your clients?" he asked.

I was a little surprised, looking at him, but he turned his head away from my gaze.

This is our future together, what does it have to do with work?

I immediately understood: "Zhang Teng, I'm serious. It's sudden, but isn't a leisurely life nice?"

He was silent for a moment, then stood up: "You're probably really sick. You'll feel ridiculous tomorrow morning."

"Zhang Teng!" I called him.

He brought me a cup of hot water from the kitchen, holding a few vitamin C tablets in his hand, and said gently, "Drinking cold medicine isn't good. Drink more vitamin C, and go to bed early. We'll discuss it again tomorrow. How about that?" "

..."

He was still the same as always.

"Zhang Teng, I'm serious. Please think it over carefully. By my birthday. Okay? Give me an answer." I was almost begging him.

"Okay. I know." He nodded, handing me the hot water and vitamins again. "Take them?" he said with a smile.

Time began to pass.

I started to have a misconception. Zhang Teng was just having trouble accepting it because it was sudden, not because he disagreed with my opinion.

I started calling my clients one after another, telling them I might quit and introducing them to new coaches.

When it was Xu Jing's turn, I hesitated and didn't call him. I don't know why Song Jianping suddenly became so aggressive, but Xu Jing was definitely the trigger.

Perhaps not contacting him was the wise thing to do.

On April 15th, I ordered food from a restaurant early in the morning and set a table.

I was waiting for Zhang Teng to come back. I had a good plan: even if he disagreed, I would persuade him, even tell him the truth, even knock him unconscious and take him away.

I had so much to say to him.

I wanted to say, "Zhang Teng, I actually quite like you."

I wanted to say, "Zhang Teng, let's live together."

I wanted to say, "Zhang Teng, let's meet my parents. If my parents don't acknowledge you, I'll go on a hunger strike. If your parents don't acknowledge me, I'll still treat them well. I won't embarrass you."

I also wanted to say, "Zhang Teng, if possible, let's just make do and live together for the rest of our lives."

I thought and thought, waited and waited.

The food got cold.

The streetlights came on.

The clock struck twelve.

The TV ended, and the word "Goodbye" hung quietly on the screen.

I laughed twice.

What an idiot I was.

I actually believed Zhang Teng again.

I believed his nightly hugs and the hot meals he prepared for me during the day. I believed he would treat me as well as he promised when he apologized. I believed he would never lie to me again.

Just before dawn, I heard the sound of a key unlocking the door. Zhang Teng walked in, taking off his coat and turning on the light. He saw me sitting at the dining table, a large table of cold food in front of me. He

was startled.

"Xiaoyi, what are you doing?"

I didn't speak, just looked at him.

His face showed a series of expressions: strange, confused, sudden realization, guilty… and finally, remorse.

He sat down beside me, still smelling of alcohol and cigarettes. He hugged me, saying with deep affection and remorse, "Xiaoyi, I'm sorry, I forgot today is your birthday. I've been really busy these past few days."

My birthday had already passed.

"It's okay." I smiled forgivingly, then said, "Zhang Teng, let's break up."

"Wh…what?!" He was caught off guard again.

"Hahahaha…" His comical appearance made me burst into laughter.

"Xiaoyi, you're joking, right?" he asked.

“Zhang Teng, which eye of yours saw me joking?” I pushed him away, stood up, and went into the bedroom. “Making you move out today is really inhumane. I’ll give you ten days, okay? No, until the end of the month. Pack your things before the end of the month, and then get out!”

“Xiao Yi!” He followed me in, looking at me in a panic. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I took the purchase contract, bank card, and ID card from the drawer, put them in a small bag, slung it over my shoulder, and walked past him to the door.

“Xiao Yi!” He grabbed me. “I know it was wrong of me to forget your birthday. But at least give me one more chance, okay?”

“Let go.” I turned back and said coldly.

“Xiao Yi…” He wouldn’t let go, pleading softly.

“Zhang Teng, I’ll say it again. There will be no more.” I repeated it forcefully, looking at his weak and powerless appearance. “Zhang Teng, I know you like being with me. But, I said, please let go.”

He trembled, looked at me blankly, and let go.

He was as fragile as a child who needed to be cared for.

How many times had I been misled by that expression of his, forgiving his mistakes?

I can't remember.

But…

as I walked out of the stairwell, I saw Song Jian's usual black Audi.

My heart skipped a beat.

But there was no more.

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