Southbound overnight train journey

Returning home is usually an exciting event for those who have been away from home for a long time.

For me, it's a nightmare that happens twice a year.

After graduating from junior high school, I went north to study. My not-so-wealthy father gritted his teeth and made sure I attended the private H Middle School, a prestigious school known as the "elite school." I can only blame myself for not being good enough.

The southbound overnight train crawled along its fixed tracks. People jostled and pushed...

Carrying a heavy, old leather suitcase full of books, I struggled to squeeze into the carriage. It contained my favorite extracurricular reading materials, the "New Trendy Library," and Tom Jones records. My father gave me a monthly allowance, and besides paying for boarding school, I mostly spent it on extracurricular books. Carrying those heavy books back and forth every year, the suitcase was starting to feel loose. Thinking of the precious treasures inside, I unconsciously clenched my fists tighter.

On the ceiling, an old electric fan whirred weakly, but the carriage was filled with a nauseating, sour smell. It was a mixture of sweat, body odor, and the stench of rotting leftovers. I shifted my weight on the luggage rack, finally managing to find my footing. Once I was steady, I had a chance to look around.

Aside from a young woman who looked like a college student, clutching an "accounting" magazine and picking her nose with her right hand, few creatures were awake in this cradle of the night. The dim light and the murky air were enough to induce drowsiness.

A middle-aged man three steps away leaned against the back of the seat next to him, swaying back and forth with the train's lurching, feigning sleep. To my left, a man dressed like a "Wukishō" was fast asleep, barefoot. Next to him, a stylishly dressed young woman snored, drooling, and leaned against his shoulder, her head tilted to one side. To my right, two girls lay cross-legged in what appeared to be their mother's arms, sleeping peacefully. To my right, a young woman was intently staring at a Crown magazine. In the front right seat, a young couple, seemingly a lover, were asleep, their coats draped over their laps.

As the train traveled south, passengers occasionally got on and off, making the air in the carriage much fresher, but my legs were gradually becoming numb. I tried shifting my feet, but it didn't help. I spotted an empty seat back on the right and moved over. Unexpectedly, the girl reading the Crown magazine seemed to sense my intention and raised her right elbow, resting it on the seat back defensively.

"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath.

I moved to the door and leaned against the hinges, feeling a sudden relief in my legs. My eyes remained fixed on my luggage.

A cool night breeze blew in through the door cracks, making me more alert. At each stop, the carriage would empty, but my gaze was always fixed on my suitcase on the rack.

Suddenly, I noticed the girl, seemingly a lover, asleep under my suitcase. Her half-closed, drowsy face looked a little strange. And the coat draped over her lap was shifting slightly. In the throes of adolescence, I seemed to understand something.

With a trembling heart, I gazed at her shifting, suppressed expressions, and I was captivated.

Only then did I notice her long, jet-black hair, her slightly narrowed eyes framed by delicate eyebrows and long eyelashes, and her beautiful face adorned with a straight nose and cherry-red lips. The V-neck of her white shirt revealed a glimpse of her snow-white chest.

My emotions rose and fell with her ever-changing expressions; a furrowed brow made me flutter, a twitch of her lips made me tremble. I fantasized that I was the one "making love" with her.

A shiver ran through me, my face flushed, and gazing at her heaving chest made me swallow hard to moisten my dry throat.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes and noticed me staring at her. She smiled shyly at me, pushed away her male hand (I guessed), and began chatting with him.

Inexperienced as I was, I awkwardly turned away, avoiding her gaze, and stood with my right hand behind the door hinge, eyes closed. My mind was still replaying that unforgettable encounter. Before my closed eyes, her ever-changing, heart-stopping expressions replayed.

The crawling train continued its journey.

"Squeak... squeak... squeak..." The train slowly came to a stop.

I peered out; we had just reached Hsinchu.

People were getting off... about five or six!

"Zhiliang! Tell your sister to... send the things over." As I heard the sweet voice beside me, I suddenly felt a warm, wet sensation on my right hand behind the door hinge.

I turned around. Good heavens! It was that girl!

She leaned against the door hinge, calling out to a man getting off, and her black trousers had inadvertently pressed her crotch against the back of my right hand behind the door hinge.

She abruptly moved away, smiled shyly at me again, and returned to her seat.

My heart, which had just calmed down, began to flutter again. Feeling the lingering warmth on the back of my right hand, and recalling that shy, blooming smile, my body trembled slightly.

"Clang..." The train began to crawl south again in this unsettling night.

Turning around, I saw that the man next to her had gotten off. A woman of about forty or fifty years old sat next to her.

"Was she doing it on purpose? Or not?" I wondered to myself, uncertainly.

Calming my turbulent emotions, I took a deep breath of the cool night air and mustered my courage to enter the carriage.

She seemed a little surprised that I had entered the carriage. However, she still openly accepted my gaze.

I pretended to move the suitcase on the overhead luggage rack, and stood in front of her seat with a legitimate reason.

I stared at her...

From her neckline, I could see the top edge of her milky-white bra. A small pink lace flower adorned the front of her milky-white bra, visible through the slightly wrinkled buttons of her shirt. The loose shirt couldn't conceal the curves of her high, full breasts. A red silk necklace adorned her slender, white neck (was it a lucky charm? Or...?). Her long, flowing hair cascaded over her left shoulder, and a small, delicate crimson beaded necklace dangled

from her right ear, swaying gently against her alluring temple. Up close, her skin was even more exquisite, flawless—smooth and white. Her slender fingers, painted with pink nail polish, were long and elegant. Her right index finger tapped lightly on her right knee. I could imagine her contemplating how to respond to the silent assault of my gaze.

As if making a decision, she stopped tapping, reached out her right hand to pick up the teacup beside her, took a sip, and reclined in her chair, her bright black eyes naturally meeting mine.

"Here it comes! The counterattack!" I thought to myself.

I stared at her without backing down.

Her gaze, undeterred by my persistent attacks, remained relentless.

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly, until I sensed her eyes shift from defensiveness, curiosity, and wonder to a deep connection with mine. It was a strange and unprecedented feeling.

For a moment, an emotion seemed to permeate the meeting of our gazes. The woman

sitting next to her, "Wopashan," seemed to sense our strange looks and stared at us oddly.

We, oblivious to the presence of others, gazed at each other in the shimmering, spring-like space.

"Squeak...squeak...squeak..." The train slowly came to a stop again.

The obstructive "Wopashan" got off. I naturally moved closer to her and sat down.

A delicate fragrance of jasmine wafted towards me from the moving train.

"You've been standing for a long time! Are you on winter break?" she asked, surprisingly with a smile.

"Yes, I am! I've gotten used to standing!" I replied awkwardly, glancing at her pearly white teeth. I think she had guessed my identity from my somewhat mismatched attire.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"...Tainan, some things to do at my parents' house... And you?" she replied after a moment's thought.

"I live in Chiayi," I answered, but I was surprised to find that she was a married woman. She definitely didn't look twenty-five.

"You got married quite young!" I asked tentatively.

"Someone arranged the marriage! I have many younger siblings, so I had no choice!" She looked somewhat lost and helpless when talking about marriage.

"What's your surname? Didn't your husband get off with you?" I asked knowingly.

She said her name was Li Meijun, and knowing I was asking, she added, "He got off first! He has to take care of the shop tomorrow morning, so he can't come."

"This is the first time I've gone out alone since I got married. I really miss the carefree life of my youth!" she said wistfully.

"Why don't you take advantage of this trip back to your parents' home and have a good time?" I encouraged her.

"No! I don't know the area well, and I really have nowhere to go alone," she replied.

"Have you been to Sun Moon Lake? The scenery is very beautiful," I suggested.

"I don't know the area well either," she replied hesitantly.

"Get off at Taichung, it's very close!" I explained.

"I can be your guide," I pressed further.

"..." She looked hesitant.

"Give me your ticket, let's get off together in Taichung," I said, holding out my right hand for her ticket.

"...This...isn't that inappropriate..." Before she could finish her hesitation, I snatched

the ticket from her hand. "No..." she tried to grab it back.

"Alright! Don't hesitate! We're almost at Taichung!" I quickly pushed the situation to the brink.

She blushed and remained silent.

"Squeak...squeak...squeak..." The train slowly came to a stop; we had arrived at Taichung Station.

"We're here in Taichung! Let's go!" I stood up, picked up my suitcase, and got off the train.

Whether it was because I had the ticket or because she was hesitantly contemplating this unprecedented adventure, she picked up her light carry-on luggage, head down, and followed me off the train with a hesitant expression.

The cool night breeze of Taichung invigorated me.

Once outside the station, I looked back at her following behind. That helpless, shy, and bewildered expression was worlds apart from the bold, tender, and confident look in her eyes in the car. I suddenly felt a surge of pride and a sense of greatness at being relied upon. I had always relied on my family since childhood.

I turned back, took her soft hand, and lowered my head to say, "Let's find a hotel first, and leave when it's light!"

The cool night breeze made her unconsciously hug me.

Taking the room key from the sleepy-eyed receptionist, I led her upstairs.

We opened the door and went inside. She hesitated outside for a minute before following me in with her head down.

It was a comfortable suite, with a snow-white double bed covered in snow-white sheets and blankets. On the coffee table were a thermos and two glasses wrapped in white paper. Two sofa chairs stood side-by-side against the wall where the curtains were drawn. Her slightly uneasy expression could be seen in the large mirror on the dressing table.

I placed the suitcase on the coffee table, closed the door, turned on the bathroom light, and said to her, "Why don't you take a shower first?"

The atmosphere was a little awkward. She replied, "What about you?"

"You don't mean you're going to shower with me, do you?" I said.

She seemed a little embarrassed, and with a shy smile, she slipped into the bathroom.

I turned off the room light, turned on the air conditioner, the TV, and the bedside lamp, making the room much softer.

Listening to the sound of running water in the bathroom, I lay on the bed and fiddled with the TV remote.

"Mmm... ah..." The TV played moaning sounds from an adult film.

Looking at the image of a fit blonde woman moaning on the screen, and then thinking about her in the bathroom, my lower body involuntarily trembled, and I gradually became erect.

As I watched, unable to suppress my restless heart, I picked up my change of clothes and went to the bathroom door.

"May I come in?" I asked, knocking lightly on the bathroom door.

"Sure!" came the reply from inside.

As soon as the door opened, I saw her already dressed in a white slip dress, smiling mischievously as she emerged.

"You naughty girl!" I thought to myself, but said aloud, "You tricked me!"

I quickly washed myself and changed into clean underwear. I kept an eye on the door, afraid she might change her mind and leave.

I peeked through the crack in the door. She was sitting on the bed, knees bent under the sheets, her eyes glued to the television. She seemed completely absorbed, her eyebrows furrowing and her lips slightly parted.

I suddenly flung open the bathroom door, and she shyly hid under the covers.

I turned off the TV, turned on the bedside music, and pulled back the sheets to get in.

She turned away, burying her cheeks in the pillow. Was it shyness? Was it fear?

Seeing her delicate, shy demeanor, like a newlywed bride, reminded me of my childhood sweetheart, Wanzhen, my neighbor from my hometown. That was a virginal flutter I could never forget…

Wanzhen was my childhood playmate; she'd been a part of my life since I was old enough to remember.

From elementary school onwards, we played together in our shared courtyard and walked to school hand in hand. The adults in that secluded, rustic village loved to pair us up, using our teasing to satisfy their own regrets about not being able to arrange our own marriages. We, though only vaguely understanding, were happy with the adults' approval.

Her father worked for the central government; in that rustic village, we had a neighbor who was a high-ranking official in Taipei. Every time I heard the muffled coughing from behind the door, I knew Wanzhen's father had come home.

Things changed when I was in sixth grade—her family built a high-rise!

The courtyard was divided in two, the lush bamboo fence replaced by cold brick walls, and Wanzhen was kept like a canary in the high attic. In the isolated courtyard, I could only hear Wanzhen's joyful singing coming from the second floor of her house; I could no longer see her rosy cheeks as she sang. And since her parents sent her to our neighbor, Teacher Chen's, piano lessons, our opportunities to catch loaches together in the mud became even fewer.

In junior high, the separation of boys and girls into classes and the queuing system for dismissal further distanced us. I had never felt so lonely before. Occasionally, we would meet at the alley entrance, and she would always smile shyly at me, head down, as she passed by. She was already quite graceful in her floral dress. A melancholy heart, and the budding feelings of first encountering the difference between boys and girls, made me unable to concentrate on my studies. I indulged in the worlds of Zhuge Qingyun, Wolong Sheng, and Qiong Yao… in those fantastical worlds where I could fulfill dreams I couldn't achieve in the real world. This was the root cause of my inability to get into what everyone called a "good high school." It

was during a summer vacation in my second year of junior high! I experienced a virginal flutter I'll never forget...

Teacher Chen's son, Yuanzhi (a classmate and neighbor from junior high, though we were in different classes), invited me to his house to play bridge. Under his father's tutelage, Yuanzhi was a skilled pianist, and he would occasionally substitute for his father in lessons. If sitting next to Wanzhen and guiding her on fingering was a right, then I always longed for that right! The loss of that right was the main reason I practiced various musical instruments diligently in high school!

Passing through the front hall of Yuanzhi's family's general store, I entered the back hall and saw Yuanzhi, his brother Hongzhi, and... Wanzhen (I simply couldn't believe I'd run into her under these circumstances).

"Hey! What's Shen Mufan been up to lately? He didn't even invite me fishing!" Yuanzhi immediately scolded me as soon as I entered. He knew my brother-in-law kept a pond of tilapia, and after being invited once, he became interested in fishing.

"Hello, Brother Hongzhi!" I greeted Brother Hongzhi, who was on vacation after studying in Taichung.

"Wanzhen! Hello!" That was a name I hadn't called in a long time. I even felt my accent was a bit rusty. It had been two years since I last called her that name!

"Hello!" Wanzhen responded with a generous yet slightly awkward smile.

Looking at her familiar yet dazzling smile, like a flower just beginning to bloom, reminded me of the blooming osmanthus tree on the wall above my house. As a child, I often played under its shade, but now I couldn't recall its true appearance.

Since starting junior high, I had never seen her so closely as I had today. She wore a snow-white short-sleeved top, revealing her slender, lotus-root-like arms. Sparse bangs framed her flushed cheeks, and a pair of bright red earrings peeked out from her ears. Looking at her familiar, delicate hands, I saw that the plumpness and childishness of the past had been replaced by a beautiful appearance. She exuded the air of a well-bred young lady, making me marvel at the wonder of time.

During the card game, I couldn't muster the courage to look her directly in the eye. Occasionally, I would pretend to talk to Yuanzhi and quickly, guiltily, glance at her. She seemed to sense the awkwardness of the situation, and whenever I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, she would lower her head and pretend to look at the cards.

"Hongzhi! Yuanzhi! Come help unload the goods!" Just as we finished playing three hands of cards, we heard Aunt Chen's shouts from the front hall.

"Coming right away!" The Chen brothers told us and we went to the front hall together.

Only Wanzhen and I were left at the card table, and this familiar atmosphere made me even more uncomfortable. Just as I was about to grab the cards on the table to shuffle and ease the strange and awkward atmosphere, unexpectedly, she also reached out her left hand to take the cards. Two hands that hadn't touched for years touched again in this bizarre situation. It was like the collision of yin and yang poles with tens of thousands of volts, a lightning bolt striking our hearts. The lightning numbed my fingertips, and at the same time, it surged up my chest. We both quickly pulled our arms back. Blood rushed to our brains, and our heartbeats suddenly became rapid, clearly audible. Stealing a glance at her, I saw her face flushed, head bowed, silent.

It was a hot early summer, but for my heart, it was the first spring.

"Hey! What are you thinking about?" A slender hand shook me from my reverie, and Mei Jun's sweet voice came.

"Sorry! Nothing!" I replied guiltily. I couldn't very well tell her at this moment that I was reminiscing about another girl.

I reached out my right arm to embrace her, but she turned her back again. My hands, through her white petticoat, reached for her breasts. I discovered she wasn't wearing a bra, and what I touched was soft, warm flesh.

To be honest, this was the first time in my life I had ever held a stranger's breasts. My understanding of female anatomy came entirely from adult books and a few books on sexology, and at school, my classmates always teased me for being a "theorist"—all talk and no action. This time, I was so bold to redeem myself from the shame of being a "theorist."

I stroked her, my body trembling slightly, and mumbled, trying to hide my discomfort, "Phew! So cold!"

As I propped myself up with my left hand to kiss her ear, she nestled back against me. My lower body pressed against her full hips, sending a shiver down my spine!

A delicate fragrance filled my nostrils as I kissed her earlobe. Her tightly closed eyes trembled slightly, her breathing quickening.

I moved my right hand to her right shoulder and pulled down the right strap of her petticoat. In the soft light, I could see her high, firm breasts with pink areolas and perfectly set nipples. My right hand clumsily grasped them again; the feeling from before was now vividly clear.

She turned around and pulled down the left strap of her petticoat, revealing a pair of round, high breasts. I was mesmerized; I never imagined a woman's breasts could be so alluring! The deep cleavage gave me a desire to bury my face in them.

I stripped off my upper garment and pounced on her. My upper body pressed against her breasts, my hands hooked behind her armpits, and I knelt on top of her. I kissed her lips and neck roughly, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

"Gently!" she moaned, slipping her hands inside my underwear.

"Hoo!" I exhaled deeply as she massaged my penis.

As I arched my knees to make it easier for her, I buried my face in her breasts, sucking on her soft, full breasts. Occasionally, I accidentally brushed my teeth against her areola, which unexpectedly made her open her cherry lips and let out a few soft moans. This discovery emboldened me to occasionally pinch her nipples between my lips.

Unable to resist any longer, she pulled down my underwear and held my penis between her thighs. After a few squeezes, I couldn't help but tear off her petticoat, turn around, and bury my head between her legs.

A woman's thighs are softer and more comfortable than a feather pillow; I think sleeping with a woman's thighs in my arms must be the greatest pleasure in life. As I sucked on her long, soft thighs, I smelled a different kind of fragrance. It was a unique scent emanating from between her cotton-white panties. I noticed the panties were slightly damp, and a thin slit was visible between her bulging mounds.

I gently rubbed the slit with my index finger, feeling the warmth and moisture of the volcano about to erupt.

"Ah! Ah... Ah..." Mei Jun twisted her legs from side to side, her hands tightly gripping my lower body, and she let out seductive moans.

Hearing her alluring whimpers, I couldn't help but pull down her snow-white panties.

Sparse, curly black pubic hair covered her mounds, and the entrance to her paradise writhed slightly in the dampness with her trembling. Gently parting a patch of pink flesh at the entrance, I could see a deep, secluded path leading straight inside. My fingers teased her vulva, causing her to sit up uncontrollably and pull me to lie down beside her.

She bent her right leg, trapping me between her thighs, while her left leg opened and lifted, her left hand guiding my penis to rub against her genitals. My

sensitive penis, never having explored before, couldn't withstand this gentle, warm rubbing; a tingling sensation rose from the bottom of my perineum. I felt humiliated and quickly pressed my right hand against the throbbing sensation in my perineum, took a deep breath, and climbed on top of her.

I kneaded her firm breasts with both hands, taking turns sucking on her nipples. I spread her legs with my knees, and lightly touched her genitals with my penis, until she had to beg me.

"Fan Di... come... in... quickly..." she pleaded breathlessly.

I deliberately continued this gentle touching until my glans felt incredibly wet. I knew she had suffered enough; her genitals were overflowing with desire.

"Come in...oh..." Amidst her pleading, I unexpectedly thrust into her private parts, causing her to let out a muffled cry.

I instinctively felt her vagina contract intensely. But after a few thrusts, amidst her slight trembling and spasms, I shuddered and quickly thrust forward, a gush of hot fluid gushing out.

"Ah...gently...ah...no..." Perhaps it was too deep, she tried to push me away.

It was my first time experiencing intercourse and orgasm, and I grabbed her shoulders with both hands and pressed her down towards my lower body.

It was so beautiful! The post-coital pleasure made my whole body relax. I lay weakly on her soft body.

She obediently picked up the sheet and wiped the sweat from my back before assuming a side-lying position, her private parts still holding my penis.

I smiled at her, and she looked back at me, a little shyly, and said, "I never want to make love with you again, you're teasing me..."

I leaned closer and said, "Who told you to be so wanton at first? This is my first time!"

She blushed and said, "Really!"

Before I could reply, her lips were on mine, our tongues exploring each other.

You've eaten sweet rice cakes, haven't you! So this is what it feels like to suck on a woman's lips.

After a while, I suddenly felt my lower body, which was immersed in her private parts, swell up again, and she seemed to feel it too.

"Ah...you...you again..." She lovingly and joyfully rubbed against me again.

This time, she sat on top of me, gently swaying her hips, cherishing it as if afraid it would end too quickly like the first time.

Even as she writhed, she would occasionally bend down to give me a loving kiss. Her writhing was skillful. The deep, slight writhing motions were less stimulating for me, but incredibly pleasurable for her, as evidenced by the twitching expressions on her face.

She gasped for breath like a fish out of water, her chest heaving, her breasts swaying rhythmically with her movements.

I propped my head up with two pillows, admiring her expressions. Her smooth abdomen writhed with her movements, creating a deep wrinkle. Her long, black hair flew wildly with each turn of her head. I could see my penis moving in and out of her vagina, sometimes fully inside, sometimes half-exited. It was then that I noticed a pink pearl set slightly above her vulva. I rubbed it with my fingers in rhythm with her writhing.

"Ah... um..." Her movements became faster and faster, and the pressure of her rubbing increased. Naturally, the pressure on my fingers, which were rubbing against that pearl, also increased.

A moment later, she called out to me incoherently, "Ah!... It's coming out... Faster... Faster... Hold... Hold me..." With each call, she leaned forward to increase the pressure.

I didn't respond, and instead, I thrust my hips upwards unintentionally, continuing this about ten times. Then, she grabbed my upper body and hugged me tightly, frantically calling out, "I... I'm going to die... I'm going to die..."

Her last few thrusts were really forceful, making my pubic bone ache slightly. After a loud scream, she collapsed, saying, "I'm so dizzy, I want to lie down."

After helping her lie down, looking at her pale, sweaty body, she was truly exhausted! But what about that thing sandwiched between her thighs?

"Do you still want it?" I thought she was probably tired and wanted to rest.

"It's your turn!" Her slightly panting cherry lips uttered an answer that surprised me.

I lifted her to the edge of the bed, hoisted her legs onto my arms, and positioned myself at the edge, launching my second wave of attack in the deepest, widest possible position.

This half-standing, half-crouching posture conserved my energy. Each thrust sent waves of flesh rippling across her chest, eliciting her moans and groans. The sound of my penis slapping against her perineum mingled with the piston-like motion—a masterpiece of three impacts in one.

"Ouch...ouch..." she cried, as I rubbed and kneaded, eliciting shivers from her. She reached orgasm twice. This was evident in the strength of her grip on my arms and the frequency of her vaginal contractions.

In the rage, a gush of fluid shot straight to her uterus. I quickly parted her legs, leaning forward to press against her chest.

"Ah!...ah!...ah!..." she cried out several times, in sync with the rhythm of my ejaculation.

A volcano erupting with lava doesn't calm down overnight.

When she greedily told me she wanted to see me again, that she wanted me to be her godbrother forever, I hesitated!

The desires of a young woman in early spring are fervent and overflowing. Recalling her greedy behavior last night, I feared I would suffocate in that torrent that had overwhelmed me.

"No! All good things must come to an end. You have a family, and I have studies to complete. Let us each silently cherish these memories."

After hearing my words, she cried!

As I saw her off at the train station, she still looked at me on the platform with sorrowful tears in her eyes. I, in turn, looked at the woman I had seen as prey when I arrived, and who I had almost become her prey on her way out.

Postscript: This article is a compilation of a friend's experiences. It laments the alienation that civilized life has created for human relationships, and also reflects on the value conflict between traditional etiquette and modern civilization, and the potentially destructive power of repressed passion once it is unleashed.

The visuals of the essay "Business Trip" are vibrant; descriptions of situations and clothing are all colorful, reflecting the pervasive "color" of modern Eastman culture. This essay, however, uses a black-and-white approach to describe the world of "emotion." Both are colorful and evocative, aligning with the theme of "erotic literature" in this section. I hope you enjoy these two different writing styles.

The first two pieces are written in the male first person, a technique that creates a more immersive and realistic experience. However, many objective descriptions lack diversity, relying instead on recollections and paraphrasing to supplement the monotony and subjectivity of the first person.

The next piece will be written from a female perspective, drawing inspiration from Ancestral's "Lady Chatterley's Lover." I dare not compare myself to literary giants here, but only hope for a breakthrough in my personal writing style. Of course, referencing the works of female authors will help me understand and perceive the female psyche. On May 8th, 1983,

the night the first draft of "A Night Train Journey South" was completed, Chen Mufan returned home. This should have been an exciting event for someone who had been away from home for a long time. For me, however, it was a nightmare that occurred twice a year. After graduating from junior high school, I went north to study. My not-so-wealthy father gritted his teeth and insisted on sending me to the private H Middle School, a school known as a prestigious institution. I can only blame myself for not being ambitious enough. The southbound overnight train crawled along its fixed tracks. People jostled and pushed... Carrying a heavy, old leather suitcase filled with books, I struggled to squeeze into the carriage. The suitcase contained my favorite extracurricular reading materials, the "New Trendy Library," and Tom Jones records. My father's monthly allowance, after paying for boarding school fees, was mostly used to buy extracurricular books. Carrying these heavy books back and forth every year, the suitcase was starting to feel loose. Thinking of the beloved treasures inside, I couldn't help but clench my hands tighter. On the roof, an old electric fan whirred weakly, while the carriage reeked of a nauseating, sour stench—a mixture of sweat, body odor, and the putrid smell of leftovers. I shifted my weight on the luggage rack, finally managing to find my footing. Only then did I have time to look around. Aside from a young woman who looked like a college student, clutching an "accounting" book and picking her nose with her right hand, few creatures were awake in this cradle of the night. The dim light and the murky air were enough to induce drowsiness. A middle-aged man three steps away leaned against the back of the seat next to him, swaying from side to side with the train's lurching, feigning sleep. A man named "Woki-shang" in the seat to my left was fast asleep, barefoot. A stylish young woman next to him snored, drooling, and leaned against his shoulder, her head tilted to one side. In the front right seat, a pair of girls lay cross-legged in what appeared to be their mother's arms, fast asleep. In the rear right seat, a young girl was intently focused on a Crown magazine. In the front right seat, a young couple, seemingly lovers, had their coats draped over their knees and were cuddling as they slept. As the train traveled south, passengers occasionally got on and off, and the air in the carriage became much fresher, but my legs gradually became numb. I tried shifting my feet, but it didn't help. I spotted an empty seat back in the rear right seat and moved over. Unexpectedly, the girl reading the Crown magazine seemed to sense my intention and raised her right elbow, placing it defensively on the seat back. "Damn it!" I cursed under my breath. I moved to the door and leaned against the hinge, and my legs immediately felt lighter. My eyes remained fixed on my luggage. A cool night breeze blew in through the cracks in the door, making me more alert. At each station, there were always fewer people in the carriage, and my gaze was always fixed on my suitcase on the rack. Suddenly, I noticed the girl, seemingly a couple, sleeping peacefully in each other's arms under my suitcase. Her half-closed, drowsy face looked strange. Then I noticed the coat draped over her knees was shifting slightly. Being in the throes of puberty, I seemed to understand. With a trembling heart, I gazed at her shifting, suppressed expressions, and I was captivated. Only then did I realize she had long, jet-black hair, delicate eyebrows and long eyelashes above her slightly closed eyes, and a straight nose and cherry-red lips on her beautiful face. The V-neck of her white shirt revealed a glimpse of her snow-white chest. My emotions rose and fell with her shifting expressions; a furrowed brow made me flutter, a twitch of her lips made me tremble. I fantasized that I was the one "making love" with her. A shiver ran through me, my face flushed, and gazing at her heaving chest made me swallow hard to moisten my dry throat.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes and found me staring at her. She smiled shyly at me, pushed away her man's hand (I guessed), and started chatting with him.

Inexperienced as I was, I awkwardly turned away, avoiding her gaze, and stood with my right hand behind the door hinge, eyes closed. My mind was still replaying that unforgettable encounter. Before my closed eyes, her ever-changing, heart-stopping expressions replayed. The

crawling train continued its journey.

"Squeak...squeak...squeak..." The train slowly came to a stop.

I peered out; we had just reached Hsinchu.

People were getting off... about five or six!

"Zhiliang! Tell your sister to...send the things over." At the same time as the sweet voice in my ear, I suddenly felt a warm, damp sensation on my right hand behind the door hinge.

I turned around. Good heavens! It was that girl!

She leaned against the door hinge, sticking her head out to call to a man getting off the train. Unfortunately, her trousers, clad in black trousers, accidentally pressed against the back of my right hand, which was also resting on the door hinge.

She quickly moved away, smiled shyly at me, and went back to her seat.

My heart, which had just calmed down, began to flutter again. Feeling the lingering warmth on the back of my right hand, and recalling that shy, blooming smile, my body trembled slightly.

"Clang..." The train began to crawl south again in the unsettling night.

Turning around, I saw that the man beside her had gotten off. A woman of about forty or fifty years old sat next to her.

"Was she doing it on purpose? Or unintentionally?" I wondered, my mind racing.

Calming my turbulent emotions, I took a deep breath of the cool night air and mustered my courage to enter the carriage.

She seemed a little surprised that I had entered, but she didn't shy away from my gaze.

I pretended to move the suitcase on the overhead luggage rack, thus gaining a legitimate reason to stand in front of her seat.

I gazed at her...

From the neckline, I could see the top edge of her creamy-white bra. Through the slightly wrinkled buttons of her shirt, I could see a small pink lace flower adorning the front of the bra. The loose shirt couldn't conceal the lines of her high, full breasts. A red silk necklace adorned her slender white neck (was it a lucky charm? Or...?). Her long, flowing hair cascaded over her left shoulder, and a small, delicate crimson beaded necklace dangled

from her right ear, swaying gently against her alluring temple. Up close, her skin was even more beautiful, flawless—smooth and white. Her slender fingers, painted with pink nail polish, were long and elegant. Her right index finger tapped lightly on her right knee. I could imagine her contemplating how to respond to the silent assault of my gaze.

As if making a decision, she stopped tapping, reached out her right hand to pick up the teacup beside her, took a sip of water, and reclined in her seat, her bright black eyes naturally looking at me.

"Here it comes! She's retaliating!" I thought to myself.

I stared at her without backing down.

Her gaze, too, seemed to withstand my onslaught without flinching.

Time seemed to stretch on, and I felt her gaze shift from defensiveness, curiosity, and wonder to a deep connection with mine. It was a strange and unprecedented feeling.

For a moment, a feeling seemed to permeate the meeting of our gazes.

"Wopashan," sitting next to her, seemed to sense our strange looks and stared at us oddly.

We completely ignored the presence of others, our eyes locked in a passionate exchange.

"Squeak... squeak... squeak..." The train slowly came to a stop again.

The obstructive "Wopashan" got off. I moved closer to her and sat down.

A delicate fragrance of jasmine wafted towards me from the slowly moving train.

"You've been standing for a long time! Are you on winter break?" she asked with a surprised smile.

"Yes, I'm on break! I'm used to standing!" I replied awkwardly, glancing at her pearly white teeth. I think she guessed my identity from my somewhat mismatched attire.

"Where are you going?" I followed up.

"...Tainan, some things at my parents' house... And you?" she answered after a moment's thought.

"I live in Chiayi," I replied, but then I realized she was a married woman. She definitely didn't look twenty-five.

"You got married quite young!" I asked tentatively.

"Someone arranged the marriage! I have many younger siblings, so I had no choice!" She looked somewhat lost and helpless when talking about marriage.

"What's your surname? Didn't your husband come down with you?" I asked knowingly.

She said her name was Li Meijun, and knowing I was just pretending, she bluntly stated, "He got off the train first! He has to take care of the shop tomorrow morning, so he can't come."

"This is the first time I've gone out alone since I got married. I really miss the carefree life of my youth!" she said wistfully.

"Why don't you take advantage of this trip back to your parents' home and have some fun?" I encouraged her.

"No! I don't know the area well, and I really have nowhere to go alone," she replied.

"Have you been to Sun Moon Lake? The scenery is very nice," I suggested.

"I don't know the area well either," she replied hesitantly.

"Get off at Taichung, it's very close!" I explained.

"I can be your guide," I pressed further.

"..." She hesitated.

"Give me your ticket, we'll get off at Taichung together," I said, holding out my right hand for her ticket.

"...This...isn't that inappropriate..." While she hesitated, I snatched the ticket from her hand.

"No..." she tried to grab her ticket back from me.

"Alright! Don't hesitate! We're almost at Taichung!" I quickly pushed the situation to the brink.

She blushed, remaining silent.

"Squeak...squeak...squeak..." The train slowly came to a stop; we had arrived at Taichung Station.

"We're at Taichung! Let's go!" I stood up, picked up my suitcase, and got off the train.

Whether it was because I had the ticket in my hand or because she was hesitantly contemplating this unprecedented adventure, she picked up her light carry-on luggage, lowered her head, and followed me off the train with a trembling expression.

The cool night breeze of Taichung invigorated me.

Outside the station, I looked back at her following behind. Her helpless, shy, and bewildered expression was worlds apart from the bold, tender, and confident look in her eyes on the train. I suddenly felt a surge of pride and a sense of greatness at being relied upon. Since childhood, I had always relied on my family.

I turned back and took her soft hand in mine, bowing my head to say, "Let's find a hotel first, and leave when it's light!"

The cool night breeze made her unconsciously hug me.

Taking the room key from the sleepy-eyed receptionist, I led her upstairs.

We opened the door and went inside. She hesitated outside for a minute before following me in with her head down.

It was a comfortable suite, with a snow-white double bed covered in snow-white sheets and blankets. A thermos and two glasses wrapped in white paper sat on the coffee table. Two sofa chairs were placed side-by-side against the wall where the curtains were drawn. Her slightly uneasy expression could be seen in the large mirror on the dressing table.

I placed my suitcase on the coffee table, closed the door, turned on the bathroom light, and said to her, "Why don't you take a shower first?"

The atmosphere was a little awkward; she replied, "What about you?"

"You don't want to shower with me, do you?" I said.

She felt a little embarrassed and scurried into the bathroom with a shy smile.

I turned off the room lights, turned on the air conditioner, and switched on the TV and bedside lamp, making the room much softer.

Listening to the sound of running water in the bathroom, I lay in bed flipping through the TV remote.

"Mmm...ah..." came the moaning sounds from an adult film.

Looking at the image of a fit, blonde woman moaning on the screen, and then thinking about her in the bathroom, my lower body involuntarily trembled, gradually becoming erect.

Watching, watching, unable to suppress my restless heart, I grabbed my change of clothes and went to the bathroom door.

"May I come in?" I asked, gently knocking on the bathroom door.

"Sure!" came the reply from inside.

The door opened, and there she was, already dressed in a white slip dress, slyly smiling as she darted out.

"You naughty girl!" I thought to myself, but said aloud, "You tricked me!" I

quickly washed myself and changed into clean underwear. I kept an eye on the sounds outside the door, afraid she might change her mind and leave.

I peeked out through a crack in the door. I saw her sitting on the bed, knees bent under the sheets, eyes glued to the television. She seemed completely absorbed, her eyebrows furrowing and her lips slightly parted.

I suddenly flung open the bathroom door, and she shyly hid under the covers.

I turned off the TV, turned on the bedside music, and pulled back the sheets to lie down.

She turned away, burying her rosy cheeks in the pillow. Was it shyness? Was it fear?

Seeing her delicate, bashful demeanor, like a newlywed bride, reminded me of my childhood sweetheart, Wanzhen, my neighbor from my hometown. That was a virginal flutter I will never forget…

Wanzhen was my childhood playmate; she had been a part of my life since I could remember.

From elementary school onwards, we played together in our shared courtyard and walked to school hand in hand. The adults in the village, living in that secluded and rustic countryside, loved to pair us up. Their flattery of us satisfied their own unrequited love for marriage. We, half-understanding, were happy with the adults' approval.

Her father worked for the central government; in that rustic village, we had a neighbor who was a high-ranking official in Taipei. Every time I heard the muffled coughing from behind the partition, I knew Wan-zhen's father had come home.

Things changed when she was in sixth grade. Her family built a large house!

The courtyard was divided in two, the lush bamboo fence replaced by cold brick walls, and Wan-zhen was kept like a canary in the high attic. In the isolated courtyard, I could only hear Wan-zhen's joyful singing coming from the second floor of her house; I could no longer see her rosy cheeks as she sang. And since her parents sent her to our neighbor, Teacher Chen's, piano lessons, our opportunities to catch loaches in the mud together became even fewer.

In junior high, the separation of boys and girls into classes and the queuing system for dismissal further distanced us. I had never felt so lonely before. Occasionally, I would run into her at the alley entrance, and she would always smile shyly at me, head down, as she passed by. She was already quite graceful in her floral dress. The melancholy and the budding feelings of first love made me unable to concentrate on my studies. I indulged in the world of Zhuge Liang, Zhuge Liang, Qiong Yao… In that fantastical world, I could fulfill dreams that I couldn't realize in the real world. This was the root cause of why I couldn't get into the "good high school" everyone talked about.

It was during a summer vacation in my second year of junior high! I experienced a virginal flutter that I will never forget…

Mr. Chen's son, Yuanzhi (a classmate and neighbor in junior high, but not in the same class as me), invited me to his house to play bridge. Yuanzhi, under his father's tutelage, was also a skilled pianist, and he would occasionally substitute for his father in lessons. If standing beside Wanzhen and guiding her on piano fingering was a right, then I always longed for that right! The loss of that right was the main reason I practiced various musical instruments diligently throughout high school!

Passing through the front hall of Yuanzhi's family's general store, I saw Yuanzhi, his brother Hongzhi, and... Wanzhen (I simply couldn't believe I would run into her under these circumstances).

"Hey! What's Shen Mufan been up to lately? He didn't even invite me fishing!" Yuanzhi scolded as soon as I entered. He knew my brother-in-law kept a pond of tilapia, and after being invited once, he became interested in fishing.

"Hello, Hongzhi!" I greeted Hongzhi, who was on vacation after studying in Taichung.

"Wanzhen! Hello!" That was a name I hadn't called in a long time. I even felt my accent was a bit rusty; it had been two years since I last called her that name!

"Hello!" Wanzhen responded with a generous but somewhat awkward smile.

Looking at her familiar yet dazzling smile, like a flower just beginning to bloom, reminded me of the blooming osmanthus tree on the wall above my house. As a child, I often played under its shade, but now I couldn't recall its true appearance.

Since starting junior high, I had never seen her so closely as I had today. She wore a snow-white short-sleeved top, revealing her slender, lotus-root-like arms. Sparse bangs framed her flushed cheeks, and a pair of bright red earrings peeked out from her ears. Looking at her familiar, delicate hands, I saw that the plumpness and childishness of the past had been replaced by a beautiful appearance. She exuded the air of a well-bred young lady, making me marvel at the wonder of time.

During the card game, I couldn't muster the courage to look her directly in the eye. Occasionally, I would pretend to talk to Yuanzhi, quickly and nervously glancing at her. She seemed to sense this awkwardness, always lowering her head and pretending to look at the cards whenever I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye.

"Hongzhi! Yuanzhi! Come help unload the goods!" We had just finished playing three hands of mahjong when we heard Aunt Chen's shouts from the front hall.

"Coming right away!" The Chen brothers told us and we went to the front hall together.

Only Wanzhen and I remained at the mahjong table, and this familiar atmosphere made me increasingly uncomfortable. Just as I was about to grab the cards to shuffle and ease the strange, awkward atmosphere, unexpectedly, she also reached out her left hand to take a card. Two hands that hadn't touched in years met again in this bizarre situation. It was like the collision of yin and yang poles, tens of thousands of volts, striking our hearts like a lightning bolt. That lightning numbed my fingertips, and simultaneously, it surged up my chest. We both quickly pulled our arms back. Blood rushed to my head, and my heart suddenly pounded rapidly, the throbbing clearly audible. Stealing a glance at her, I saw that her face was flushed, and she was silent, her head bowed.

It was a hot early summer day, but for my heart, it was the first spring.

"Hey! What are you thinking about?" A slender hand shook me from my reverie, followed by Mei Jun's sweet, inquiring voice.

"Sorry! Nothing!" I replied guiltily. I couldn't very well tell her at this moment that I was reminiscing about another girl.

I reached out my right arm to embrace her, but she turned her back again. My hands, through her white petticoat, reached for her breasts. I discovered she wasn't wearing a bra, and what I grasped was soft, warm flesh.

To be honest, this was the first time in my life I had ever held a stranger's breasts. My understanding of female anatomy came entirely from adult books and a few books on sexology; at school, my classmates always teased me for being a "theorist"—all talk and no action. This time, I was so bold to redeem myself from that "theorist" shame.

I stroked her, my body trembling slightly, and mumbled, trying to hide my discomfort, "Phew! So cold!"

As I propped myself up with my left hand to kiss her ear, she nestled back against me tenderly. My lower body pressed against her full hips, sending a shiver down my spine!

A delicate fragrance filled my nostrils as I kissed her earlobe. Her tightly closed eyes trembled slightly, her breathing quickening.

I moved my right hand to her right shoulder and pulled down the right strap of her petticoat. In the soft light, I could see her high, firm breasts with pink areolas and perfectly set pink nipples. My right hand clumsily grasped them again; the sensation from before was now vividly clear.

She turned around and pulled down the left strap of her petticoat, revealing a pair of round, high breasts. I was mesmerized; I never imagined a woman's breasts could be so alluring! The deep cleavage gave me an urge to bury my face in them.

I took off my upper garment and pounced on her. My upper body pressed against her breasts, my hands hooked behind her armpits, and I knelt on top of her. I kissed her lips and neck roughly, inhaling her intoxicating fragrance.

"Gently!" she moaned, as she slipped her hands inside my underwear.

"Hoo!" I couldn't help but exhale deeply as she massaged my genitals.

As I arched my knees to make it easier for her, I buried my face in the depths of her chest, sucking on her soft, full breasts. Occasionally, my teeth accidentally brushed against her areola, which unexpectedly caused her to open her cherry lips and let out a few soft moans. This discovery emboldened me to occasionally pinch her nipples between my lips.

Unable to resist any longer, she pulled down my underwear and held my penis between her thighs. A few squeezes later, I couldn't resist tearing off her petticoat and turning to bury my head between her legs.

A woman's thighs are truly softer and more comfortable than a feather pillow; I thought that sleeping with a woman's thighs in my arms must be the greatest pleasure in life. As I sucked on her long, soft thighs, I smelled a different kind of fragrance. It was a unique scent emanating from her white cotton panties. I noticed that her panties were slightly damp, with a thin slit between her bulging mounds.

I gently rubbed the slit with my index finger, feeling the warmth and moisture of the volcano about to erupt.

"Ah! Ah... Ah..." Mei Jun twisted her legs from side to side, her hands tightly gripping my lower body, and she let out seductive moans.

Hearing her alluring whimpers, I couldn't help but pull down her snow-white panties.

Her curly, dark pubic hair grew sparsely on her mounds, and the two doors of her peach blossom cave trembled slightly with her movements. A gentle touch to the pinkish-red entrance revealed a deep, secluded path leading inside. Her fingers teased the entrance, causing her to sit up uncontrollably and pull me down beside her.

She bent her right leg, trapping me between her thighs, while her left leg opened and lifted, her left hand guiding my penis to her vulva, rubbing it. My

sensitive penis, never having explored before, couldn't withstand this gentle, warm caress; a tingling sensation rose from the bottom of my perineum. Feeling humiliated, I quickly pressed my right hand against the throbbing sensation in my perineum, took a deep breath, and climbed on top of her.

I kneaded her firm breasts with both hands, taking turns sucking on her nipples. I spread her legs with my knees, and lightly touched her vulva with my penis, until she begged me for mercy.

"Fan Di...come in...come in...come in..." she pleaded, panting.

I deliberately pressed gently for a while longer until my glans felt incredibly wet. I knew she had suffered enough; her private parts were overflowing with desire.

"Come in...oh..." Amidst her renewed pleas, I unexpectedly thrust into her, causing her to let out a muffled cry.

I instinctively felt her vagina contracting intensely. But after a few thrusts, amidst her slight trembling and spasms, I shuddered and thrust forward, a gush of hot fluid gushing out.

"Ah...gently...ah...no..." Perhaps it was too deep; she tried to push me away.

It was my first time experiencing intercourse and orgasm, and I grabbed her shoulders with both hands and pressed her down towards my lower body.

It was so beautiful! The post-coital pleasure made my whole body relax. I lay exhausted on her soft body.

She obediently picked up the sheet and wiped my sweat from my back, then lay on her side, my penis still inside her.

I smiled at her, and she looked back at me, a little shy, and said, "I never want to make love to you again, you teased me..."

I leaned closer and said, "Who told you to be so wanton at first? This is my first time!"

She blushed and said, "Really!"

Before I could reply, her lips were on mine, our tongues exploring each other.

You've eaten sweet rice cakes, haven't you! So this is what it feels like to suck on a woman's lips.

After a while, I suddenly felt my lower body, which was immersed in her vagina, swell up again, and she seemed to feel it too.

"Ah...you...you again..." She lovingly and joyfully rubbed against me again.

This time, she sat on top of me, gently swaying her hips, as if cherishing it, afraid of ending it hastily like the first time.

As she moved, she still didn't forget to bend down from time to time to give me a loving kiss. Her movements were skillful. The subtle, deep twists were less stimulating for me, but incredibly pleasurable for her, as evidenced by the twitching expressions on her face.

She gasped for breath like a fish out of water, her chest heaving, her breasts swaying rhythmically with her movements.

I propped my head up with two pillows, admiring her expressions. Her smooth abdomen creased a deep wrinkle with each twist. Her long, black hair flew wildly with every turn of her head. I could see my penis moving in and out of her, sometimes fully inside, sometimes half-exited. It was then that I noticed a pink pearl set slightly above her vulva. I rubbed it with my fingers in rhythm with her movements.

"Ah... um..." Her movements quickened, and the pressure of her rubbing increased. Naturally, the pressure on my fingers, rubbing against that pearl, also intensified.

A moment later, she called out to me incoherently, "Ah!... It's coming out... Faster... Faster... Hold... Hold me..." With each call, she leaned forward to increase the pressure.

I didn't respond, and instead, I thrust my hips upwards unintentionally, continuing this about ten times. Then, she grabbed my upper body and hugged me tightly, frantically calling out, "I... I'm going to die... I'm going to die..."

Her last few thrusts were really forceful, making my pubic bone ache slightly. After a loud scream, she collapsed, saying, "I'm so dizzy, I want to lie down."

After helping her lie down, looking at her pale, sweaty body, she was truly exhausted! But what about that thing sandwiched between her thighs?

"Do you still want it?" I thought she was probably tired and wanted to rest.

"It's your turn!" Her slightly panting cherry lips uttered an answer that surprised me.

I lifted her to the edge of the bed, hoisted her legs onto my arms, and positioned myself at the edge, launching my second wave of attack in the deepest, widest possible position.

This half-standing, half-crouching posture conserved my energy. Each thrust sent waves of flesh rippling across her chest, eliciting her moans and groans. The sound of my penis slapping against her perineum mingled with the piston-like motion—a masterpiece of three impacts in one.

"Ouch...ouch..." she cried, as I rubbed and kneaded, eliciting shivers from her. She reached orgasm twice. This was evident in the strength of her grip on my arms and the frequency of her vaginal contractions.

In the rage, a gush of fluid shot straight to her uterus. I quickly parted her legs, leaning forward to press against her chest.

"Ah!...ah!...ah!..." she cried out several times, in sync with the rhythm of my ejaculation.

A volcano erupting with lava doesn't calm down overnight.

When she greedily told me she wanted to see me again, that she wanted me to be her godbrother forever, I hesitated!

The desires of a young woman in early spring are fervent and overflowing. Recalling her greedy behavior last night, I feared I would suffocate in that torrent that had overwhelmed me.

"No! All good things must come to an end. You have a family, and I have studies to complete. Let us each silently cherish these memories."

After hearing my words, she cried!

As I saw her off at the train station, she still looked at me on the platform with sorrowful tears in her eyes. I, in turn, looked at the woman I had seen as prey when I arrived, and who I had almost become her prey on my departure.

Postscript: This article is a compilation of friends' experiences, reflecting both the alienation that civilized life has created for human relationships and the clash between traditional etiquette and modern civilization, as well as the potentially destructive power of repressed passions once unleashed.

The article "Business Trip" is visually vibrant, with descriptions of situations and clothing in a riotous array, reflecting the pervasive "color" of modern Eastmanism. This article, however, uses a black-and-white approach to describe the world of "emotion." Both are evocative and colorful, in line with this section's theme of "erotic literature." I hope you enjoy these two different writing styles.

The first two pieces are written in the male first-person perspective, which creates a more immersive and realistic experience. However, many objective descriptions lack diversity, relying on recollections and paraphrasing to supplement the monotony and subjectivity of the first-person narrative.

The next piece will be written from a female perspective, drawing inspiration from D.H. Lawance's "Lady Chatterley's Lover." I dare not compare myself to literary philosophers here; I only hope to achieve a breakthrough in my personal creative style. Of course, referring to the works of female writers will help me to understand and perceive the feelings of women.

—Shen Mufanzhi, on the night the first draft of "A Night Train Journey South" was completed.

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