The pitiful widow is my adopted sister.

This was a beautiful 30-year-old woman. I later learned that she was also a widow who evoked sympathy.

I was 25, studying in this city.

She had just started working at a hardware store in a township in a district of this city. The store owner was her late husband's cousin, and he took good care of her in every way.

I. First Encounter: Fate brought us together. In March 2008, I received a research project from my supervisor, and I became the person in charge of a sub-project. I needed to conduct research in a difficult place for several months. I had never been to this place before, and no one could help me. So, I had an idea: I would chat with people in that area online and maybe I could meet some kind-hearted people there.

At first, I added people randomly, regardless of age or gender. In those few days, my QQ friends suddenly increased to over 200, most of whom were strangers from that place.

Whenever I had time, I would chat with those people. I communicated with them very honestly, explained my situation, and asked to become friends. I hoped they could help me when I got there, or at least get to know me and alleviate my initial worries. I thought that at least I would know someone there.

After chatting for many days, I realized that in this virtual space of the internet, what swells is desire, and no one is willing to help you. However, on that disheartening afternoon, a user named Xiaohan came online. This should be her first time online since I added her. I quickly checked her profile; it was just a simple signature: "Life goes on, but my heart aches so much...", Age: 28, City: xx. I thought, "How did I add someone from the same city as me?"

But looking at the IP's actual location, it was indeed right where I was going.

I didn't think too much about it and chatted with her as I would with the others. I was honest about my motives, hoping she wouldn't be as cold as she had with the others. Instead, she regretfully told me that it wasn't that place, but rather her aunt's house, and that she was currently there.

I understood what was going on.

For the next few days, she was online every afternoon after 5 pm because her aunt had a computer. She told me that her aunt had doted on her since she was little, and that she was still like a child around her aunt, always acting spoiled.

Since I felt this wasn't the person I was looking for, I just listlessly complimented her, saying some nice things.

But I felt she genuinely enjoyed chatting with me, perhaps because she had no one else to chat with.

Since her QQ account only had two stars, it was clear she had just applied for it recently.

Plus, she didn't usually have much free time online, so it was probably just out of curiosity.

Life went on like this for the next few days: going to the cafeteria to get food (the cafeteria opened at 5 pm, and if you were late, it would be leftovers—I'm sure everyone remembers university life), eating while browsing forums, and chatting with her.

Days passed by, and we got to know each other a little better. I told her about my school, major, age, and other trivial things. Then one day, she told me she had to go back home. She had come to her aunt's house because she was feeling down and had nowhere to confide in. She said her aunt loved her, but she needed to work to make a living, so she had to go back to work. She thanked me again for keeping her company these past few days and said she could sense my honesty. She left me her phone number, telling me to remember it, as she might need to ask me, a college student, if anything came up. Since she was so sincere, I left my number too.

After that, her QQ account remained offline for a long time, and we had no further contact.

In this superficial society, how could she possibly know who I am? Perhaps I left my number because of some initial attraction. In May, I was organizing the numbers on my SIM card, transferring all the contacts to my phone and deleting many useless numbers, including hers.

I was going to that unfamiliar place in June, and thinking I'd be gone for several months, I figured I'd get a new SIM card there.

I remember it was a few days into May, a gloomy day. After lunch, I felt dizzy and fell asleep in bed. When I woke up, I saw several missed calls, all from the same person.

I didn't think it was harassment. I checked the number's location; it was from the same city. I figured someone was looking for me, so I called back.

The other person sounded a little uneasy. She asked if I had time, saying she wanted to ask me something. I asked who she was, and she told me she met me online at her aunt's house. I suddenly remembered.

I quickly greeted her and asked what it was about. She hesitated and said she wanted me to check if it was illegal for a husband to commit suicide after an argument. She added that the wife hadn't said anything malicious, and the argument only started after her husband had raped someone else.

Without saying a word, I quickly went online to check the law, told her the results, and reassured her that her friend shouldn't worry, it was okay.

She thanked me, and I told her I would be going there in a few days. She told me to be careful when I went out, to take care of myself, and to bring extra clothes because the temperature difference there was huge and the climate was bad. She also reminded me to bring cold medicine, etc. Her genuine concern touched me, and I said I would send her my new number when I got there.

II. In my lonely days, our hearts grew closer. The days of conducting fieldwork were tough.

Arriving in an unfamiliar place, coupled with the difficulty of adapting to the local climate, presented many challenges.

A significant part of my work involved visiting villages and households, reading novels. Due to the significant differences between local customs and those of our own, coupled with some events that occurred in 2008, the locals were very wary of outsiders.

After much effort, I finally settled in a village, but life there was monotonous, and my project was difficult to progress. To make my research valuable, I traveled everywhere, even to more remote places, but despite my efforts, I still didn't achieve satisfactory results.

A week after arriving, I met some people, and to make it easier to stay in touch, I decided to get a SIM card. I immediately gave her my number, feeling a pang of loneliness and a need for someone to talk to. She quickly replied with a caring text message, which warmed my heart.

In the days that followed, work slowly progressed, but due to various reasons, I developed some health problems.

First, I wasn't used to the food; I wasn't full, the food wasn't digested properly, my stomach felt hard, and I had difficulty defecating.

I rented a room, a single room in a local courtyard.

Two elderly people lived there, and communication was very difficult because we didn't speak the same language.

It rained a lot there, and the convective weather was strong. One night, my hard stomach suddenly started hurting badly. I ran outside to find a public restroom. It was pitch black, with dark clouds overhead. I held a flashlight in the restroom; the village was eerily quiet, with only the occasional bark of a dog.

Suddenly, thunder roared, and the wind and rain intensified, but my stomach was still hurting, so I didn't dare go back inside, afraid that the pain would make it even harder to relieve myself.

A long time passed, and I checked the time—it was already midnight. My stomach finally felt a little better, so I mustered my courage and ran back to my room, my clothes completely soaked.

The night was incredibly long. The deafening thunder outside made me curl up into a ball, terrified. I realized then how terrifying loneliness can be; even the familiar thunder in a lonely night can make a man so vulnerable.

That night, I was awakened by a high fever. The night was still long, until finally, I heard the clear chirping of birds. I dragged my numb body out of bed and struggled to the clinic alone.

I knew I needed an IV drip; this wasn't at home.

After the IV drip, I returned to my place, ate something, and snuggled into bed early. My cold seemed to be getting better; the high fever subsided quite quickly. I was glad I didn't need many IV drips, as the effect was so obvious.

Because I slept for a while after the drip, I was surprisingly wide awake that night. Plus, with my cold improving, my mood wasn't so bad.

I didn't want to sort out my thoughts, didn't want to think about problems; being alone was so boring.

So I took out my phone and went online, but it only made me feel emptier.

I decided to call my family, friends, and other close acquaintances one by one to see who would reply first, implying they cared about me, the one suffering outside. I

called my parents, classmates, and friends several times, and somehow I also dialed her number—that was also harassment, of course.

Many people just texted back to ask how I was doing. My parents called quickly to check on me, and I told them everything was fine and I was healthy.

About an hour later, around 10 p.m., a phone call came in. Most people in the countryside are asleep by then; the yards are quiet. The phone rang urgently and sharply. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly answered. It was her—that same voice, a gentle, slightly hoarse voice. "

Sorry, the goods just arrived, and I was unloading them. I didn't have time to call you back. I'm done now, so tired. Have you eaten?" "Okay?" I told her I had a cold, and she anxiously asked if I had taken medicine, urging me to take it quickly. She even scolded me, saying, "I told you to take your medicine with you when you go out, but you definitely didn't listen!" I then said in a tone that even I found hard to accept, "It's okay. I caught a cold last night, and I'm almost better after getting an IV today. I just wanted to procrastinate, so I called you. How are you?" Because I don't have a sister, talking to her like this always makes me feel like I'm playing a different role. This is the first time, and I'm not used to it.

She said, "Wait a minute, I just finished unloading some goods, I'm dirty, I'll wash up and call you back.

" After hanging up, the waiting felt long, and I held my phone close to my heart.

Reading the novel, it seemed like a long time had passed, but it was actually only about 10 minutes. I guessed my sister should be finished showering, so I called her. After three rings, she answered, "I was just about to call you. I just finished showering and am making the bed... Ah, so tired, it feels so good to lie down." Then we both giggled.

That very night, I curled up in my blankets, and she curled up in hers, leaning against the phone, talking to each other for a long time.

That night, I learned that she was the husband and the wife who had committed suicide, and how difficult her life had been.

That very night, I told her I had a wish, and she said she had one too. I said she should go first, but she let me. So I spoke first, telling her I didn't have a sister, and that she seemed like a very kind person, so I asked if I could call her "sister" from now on. As soon as I said this, feeling a little embarrassed, she seemed to pause, then smiled happily, and then cried sadly.

It turned out her wish was also for me to become her younger brother; it turned out she was an orphan, an all-child since childhood.

That night, I wrapped my head tightly in the blanket and confided in a sister I had never met before, a sister whose face I didn't even know. Listening to her pour out her heart, I felt our hearts were so close. I greedily called her "sister, sister, sister, sister, sister..." She said somewhat shyly, "Silly little brother, silly little brother, take good care of yourself, eat well, sister will come to see you when she has time..." From then on, every happy and troublesome day was filled with memories shared with my sister.

Time passed quickly, and I could say that I had completed the first phase of my investigation ahead of schedule. As the rapeseed flowers faded, I dragged my luggage back to school, covered in dirt. It was August 15th, and there was a slight cool breeze. I didn't know if it was an autumn breeze. I told her that I was back at school and asked her not to worry, as the weather had gotten cooler and that she should take good care of herself.

III. First Meeting: The Most Unforgettable Memory In mid-August, after returning to school, although classes hadn't officially started, I had many things to do: writing reports, organizing data. Soon it was September, and it was back to the usual tedious tasks of starting school: meeting teachers, submitting assignments, participating in project meetings. Being busy made life less empty, and the events of those lonely days gradually faded away. I'm a conservative person; I've never had any strangers online. Although I thought of her, I felt that a sister-brother relationship wasn't real. How could I guarantee it wouldn't develop in other ways? So I thought it best to leave it at that and not contact her unless necessary. Besides, given her current situation, it wouldn't be good for others to know. (

Book lovers are all reading novels on DedeLe!) However, our contact continued; we often texted each other, and I simply replied. It seemed she could sense the change in me, frequently asking what was wrong. I just answered that I was busy, but she still cared for me.

National Day arrived quickly; finally, I could rest, I told myself.

That day, I bought an IC phone card, planning to make several calls to my parents, grandparents, and close friends.

After dinner, I sat on a school bench, holding the phone and chatting until ten o'clock.

Back in the dorm, my roommate said, "Your phone was practically jumping off the bed!" I then remembered my phone was on vibrate; that old phone really vibrated a lot.

It showed 16 missed calls. Sister... I took a deep breath, feeling how sincere she was towards me.

She said she hadn't expected me to look so young, really like a child.

Her words revealed a subtle, deep affection.

Her hands were round and beautiful, with calluses on her palms—unavoidable from constantly handling metal tools—but these calluses made me feel more grounded.

She was beautiful, a beauty beyond my ability to describe; that beauty remains in my heart, lingering there for a long time.

Her hair was tied up, her skin was delicate, and she wore light makeup. Her eyes were downy, and she didn't look like a young widow. I sat next to her and secretly told her sister, "Seeing you like this makes me feel relieved. You're a strong person; life hasn't crushed you." She still smiled charmingly, a smile that made me feel loved. I wanted to keep watching her smile like that. We held hands tightly, our fingers intertwined, a gesture of reluctance. I knew she was leaving, and I just wanted her to feel my sadness.

The car arrived; thankfully, we still had to wait for someone else. I bought her a drink, but at first she insisted I take it home, saying she wasn't thirsty.

The empty seats at the front of the bus were all taken, so she pulled me to the last row. I knew she was leaving, and I felt a pang of reluctance. The feeling after our meeting exceeded my expectations.

I poured her some water, and she drank a little, some of which dripped onto her white t-shirt. She was full-figured, with a round, soft appearance. As she wiped the water off, I suddenly noticed her beautiful lips, which I had never seen before. Perhaps it was because of the heat, but her lips were a little dry, and I felt a pang of heartache.

This became one of the most profound memories she left me with—those lips, the most unforgettable lips, those heart-wrenching lips.

The bus was about to leave, and the driver told everyone who was seeing someone off to get off. At that moment, she pinched me hard, stared at me, and I returned her the kind of affection we needed. She understood.

I paid her fare at the front of the bus. She saw it and ran over, trying to stop me, but I insisted. It was only a little over ten yuan, but it was a sentimental gesture. She pretended to be angry and looked at me, but I knew it was out of concern for me. I really didn't want to leave, but the bus quickly disappeared from my sight.

I received a text message from my brother: "Hurry back, your sister cares about you. I didn't realize we were so close.

Take care of yourself; you look a little thin. Eat well.

Don't worry about me."

When I got back to school by bus, I went straight to eat.

After dinner, she texted me: "Little brother, I've arrived. Don't worry, go eat." I replied, "Sister, I've already eaten. You go eat. You haven't had time to eat with me. Text me if you're free tonight, and I'll call you."

IV. Lost in the Sweet Whirlpool of My Sister's Love: The feeling after seeing her was wonderful, making me think of her constantly—that mature, beautiful, kind woman who seemed to lack a man's love.

Our contact became noticeably more frequent afterward, and my calling her "sister" and her responses held a certain unspoken ambiguity.

Every time I said, "Sister, I miss you," she would always say, "Silly little brother, you're so young." I truly felt like she was my own brother.

One night, she got drunk and called me. She was reading a novel and telling me about the hardships of life. At that time, there was a railway construction project in their area, and some contractors were ordering some things from the hardware store. So the landlady asked her to go drinking and eating with some of the contractors. Of course, she didn't want to, but she went anyway for the sake of making a living. After she got there, she said she wouldn't drink, but the contractors forced her to drink. She said the situation was very awkward. In the end, she drank most of a bottle of baijiu (Chinese liquor) in a fit of anger and threw up when she got home. She misses me a lot now, and she feels so lonely.

My heart stirred with love. I called out to my sister repeatedly, trying to comfort her. Finally, I suggested visiting her this weekend

. She hesitated for a moment before agreeing, saying that her place was a small town and that she was a widow, afraid of gossip. However, she said I looked very young and that it shouldn't matter, and that I should come instead, as she missed me. The weekend finally arrived. Because she had to work, I didn't leave until 5 pm on Saturday. I put on my new clothes, bought my sister a roast duck, and the car entered a small road after leaving the city. The ride was bumpy, and after about an hour, I got off at a place called Xjiaping, guided by my sister.

As soon as I got off the bus, still feeling the heat and not yet having changed, my sister grabbed my arm. "You must be tired, little brother," she said. "I told you I was in town, and you believe me now. Are you hungry? I'm off work, let's go get some food."

I said I wasn't hungry, and then she told me to follow her. We went around behind a row of houses. She said the landlady was still in the shop. Her place was behind the hardware store, also the landlady's house. There was a yard if you went around from the back, so no one could see you.

When we got to her place, it was a small room that served as both bedroom and kitchen, but it was very tidy. My sister quickly poured me some water and gave me a towel to wipe my sweat.

I smiled foolishly at my sister, "You're so good to me. I can do it myself. You seem to have lost weight lately, sister." She smiled and said, "No, I haven't noticed."

"Aren't you hungry? How about we go for a walk?" I said, "Sure," and put down my bag and we went out.

My sister took two pieces of chewing gum with her, giving me one and keeping one for herself.

It was already autumn, and the days were getting shorter. By six o'clock, it was already sunset.

My sister was wearing a coat over a t-shirt. I asked her if she was cold, and she shook her head. We passed fields of harvested wheat, and she suddenly grabbed my hand. I knew no one could see us now. I followed her through a tunnel under the railway. On the other side were mountains. She said her home was on this mountain, and after crossing another mountain, we would be there.

I told my sister to find a place to sit. Stones left from the road construction had rolled into the ravine, and we found a larger one and sat down.

My sister asked me what I thought of the place, and I said it was nice. But what did it matter if it was nice or not? I was there to see my sister.

A gentle evening breeze was blowing. My sister, worried I was cold, pulled me close from behind, and I held her tightly too. We watched the sunlight grow weaker and weaker as the people working in the fields went home.

I hugged my sister tightly, resting my chin on her neck. She spat out her chewing gum and buried her head.

Because her jacket wasn't zipped up, her t-shirt was round-neck, and when she buried her head, her chest was visible to me. I felt a surge of heat, straddled the other rock, sat on a higher spot, and pulled my sister directly into my arms, wrapping my arms around her waist.

My sister is voluptuous, but her waist isn't chubby; it's just round and soft. I leaned close to her ear and called out, "Sister, do you know how much I miss you?" She smiled and said, "Silly little brother, I miss you too." I bit her earlobe, and I felt her waist suddenly straighten, and her eyes closed.

I slowly rubbed my chin against her neck, slowly, slowly. I spat out my chewing gum (my sister is so thoughtful), and gently stroked her face with my cheek. She had her eyes closed, so I dared to greedily look at her breasts. They were so round, so white, with a deep, bottomless cleavage. I tightened my grip on her waist again, and with one more push, I lifted my hands slightly, and slowly, I grasped her breasts. My sister let out a soft moan, and leaned back into my arms. I unrolled one hand from her waist and slipped it inside her t-shirt. Her round, large breasts bulged out of her bra. I gently caressed them, and her breathing became uneven. Suddenly, she let out a soft "hmm," and our lips met, hot and passionate. My tongue quickly slipped inside, and my sister sucked on it, her mouth full of sweet saliva. The whole valley was quiet, except for the sounds of my sister and me, "Mmm, mmm, sister, little brother, I miss you, sister, so sweet..." Time seemed to pass slowly. After kissing her lips, I kissed her beautiful breasts. Under the dark sky, my sister unhooked her bra, and I buried my head in her breasts, sucking hard. Saliva soaked her breasts. My sister's voice grew louder, constantly scolding me for being a bad little brother, "You're so bad!" She kept feeding me her big nipples with her hands. My penis had been hard for a long time, and now it was being pressed under my sister's soft buttocks. My sister noticed and said, "Little brother, be careful, don't hurt me," and then she spread her buttocks apart.

I couldn't take it anymore. I gasped for breath, calling out "Sister" in a coquettish voice, and pulled her onto my lap.

I sucked on her nipple; her whole body was straight, lying on my lap with her legs wide open. To hold her tighter and prevent her from slipping, I tried to lift her up, but her large buttocks made it difficult to find a foothold. Somehow, my hand accidentally slipped between her legs, and grasping her buttocks easily pulled her up.

But once my hand was there, I didn't want to leave. I gently stroked that area; my sister was probably close to orgasm, her mouth wide open, moaning incessantly.

I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled one of her hands to my penis, and she grabbed it through my pants, gripping it tightly.

She exposed her waist, and I took the opportunity to unzip my pants and thrust against her waist. My hand, guided by my sister, had already entered a patch of furry wetness. We started screaming, "Ah, ah, ah, sister, brother, good sister, silly brother, I feel so good, so good, sister, brother!" The whole valley was filled with our long-buried, unrestrained sounds.

In the last moment, my sister collapsed onto my lap, and I ejaculated my hot semen onto her waist.

My sister got up and looked at me lovingly, wiping my semen off her body with her t-shirt...

It was completely dark, but thankfully there was still a moon. My sister took my arm and walked up the street, constantly blaming herself for letting me go hungry, etc. I was just being affectionate with her. (The last sentence appears to be unrelated and possibly a fragment from another text.) One minute I was hugging her from behind, the next I was pulling her along, and I'd even sneakily nip her every now and then, making my sister giggle.

Suddenly, I remembered something and said, "Sister, let's not eat yet. I bought you some roast duck; it's in my bag. Let's eat it when we get back."

I also asked her where I was staying that night. She said there were two guesthouses on the street, and I'd have to make do.

I reluctantly agreed.

She knew what I was thinking and secretly told me that the landlady sometimes stayed in that courtyard too, and tonight the boss was going to pick up goods, and the landlady might have to deliver them as well, so she wouldn't be going back either. I said it was okay, sister, seeing you is enough. She touched my face and kissed me.

I actually knew my sister's difficulties. The hardware store was a single-story building with shops in the front and a courtyard in the back.

There were five or six rooms in the courtyard, used as storage and living quarters. Three of them were occupied, including my sister's room, which was next to the owner's room. There was another room down in the courtyard, which seemed to be rented out.

There was a dog in the courtyard, chained up near the gate.

My sister insisted on taking me out to eat, saying they had a good big plate of chicken and wanted me to try it. I couldn't resist, so we went. I ate some, and for some reason, I wasn't hungry. I secretly told my sister, "Sister, seeing you makes me not hungry anymore!" She looked at me shyly, gestured for me to put my ear to her, said "Me too," and kissed me.

Because we were in a private room, we weren't worried about being seen.

Such a beautiful woman, once she trusts a man, will display all her gentleness and sweetness. Gazing at her, my heart is filled with sweetness; I am that man, and she brings me an unprecedented happiness.

She is a beautiful 30-year-old woman, and I later slowly learned that she is also a widow who evokes sympathy.

I was 25, studying in this city.

She had just started working at a hardware store in a township within a district of this city. The store owner was her late husband's cousin, and he took good care of her in every way.

I. First Encounter: It Was Fate That We Didn't Miss Each Other In March 2008, I received a research project from my supervisor, and I became the person in charge of a sub-project. I needed to conduct research in a difficult place for several months, a place I had never been before, and with no one to help me. So, I had an idea: I could chat with people from that place online and maybe meet some kind-hearted locals.

Initially, I added people randomly, regardless of age or gender. In those few days, my QQ friends suddenly increased to over 200, most of whom were strangers from that place.

Whenever I had time, I would chat with those people. I communicated with them very honestly, explaining my situation and asking to become friends. I hoped they could help me when I got there, or at least get to know me and alleviate my initial worries. I thought I would at least know someone there.

After chatting for many days, I realized that in the virtual space of the internet, what swells is desire, and no one is willing to help you. However, on that disheartening afternoon, a user named Xiaohan came online. This should have been her first time online since I added her. I quickly checked her profile. Her signature was simple: "Life goes on, but my heart aches so much...", Age: 28, City: xx. I thought, "How did I add someone from the same city as me?"

But after checking the IP's actual location, it was indeed in the area I was looking for.

I didn't think too much about it and chatted with her as I would with the others. I honestly stated my motives, hoping she wouldn't be as cold as with the others. Instead, she regretfully told me it wasn't that place, but rather her aunt's house, and that she was currently there.

I understood what was going on.

For the next few days, she was online after 5 PM every day because her aunt had a computer. She told me that her aunt had doted on her since she was little, and that she was still a child around her aunt, always being pampered.

Since I felt this wasn't the person I was looking for, I just listlessly complimented her, saying some nice, platitude things.

But I felt she genuinely enjoyed chatting with me, perhaps because she had no one else to chat with.

Since her QQ account only had two stars, it was clear she had just applied for it recently.

Plus, she didn't usually have much free time online, so it was probably just out of curiosity.

Life went on like this for the next few days: going to the cafeteria to get food (the cafeteria opened at 5 pm, and if you were late, it would be leftovers—I'm sure everyone remembers university life), eating while browsing forums, and chatting with her.

Days passed by, and we got to know each other a little better. I told her about my school, major, age, and other trivial things. Then one day, she told me she had to go back home. She had come to her aunt's house because she was feeling down and had nowhere to confide in. She said her aunt loved her, but she needed to work to make a living, so she had to go back to work. She thanked me again for keeping her company these past few days and said she could sense my honesty. She left me her phone number, telling me to remember it, as she might need to ask me, a college student, if anything came up. Since she was so sincere, I left my number too.

After that, her QQ account remained offline for a long time, and we had no further contact.

In this superficial society, how could she possibly know who I am? Perhaps I left my number because of some initial attraction. In May, I was organizing the numbers on my SIM card, transferring all the contacts to my phone and deleting many useless numbers, including hers.

I was going to that unfamiliar place in June, and thinking I'd be gone for several months, I figured I'd get a new SIM card there.

I remember it was a few days into May, a gloomy day. After lunch, I felt dizzy and fell asleep in bed. When I woke up, I saw several missed calls, all from the same person.

I didn't think it was harassment. I checked the number's location; it was from the same city. I figured someone was looking for me, so I called back.

The other person sounded a little uneasy. She asked if I had time, saying she wanted to ask me something. I asked who she was, and she told me she met me online at her aunt's house. I suddenly remembered.

I quickly greeted her and asked what it was about. She hesitated and said she wanted me to check if it was illegal for a husband to commit suicide after an argument. She added that the wife hadn't said anything malicious, and the argument only started after her husband had raped someone else.

Without saying a word, I quickly went online to check the law, told her the results, and reassured her that her friend shouldn't worry, it was okay.

She thanked me, and I told her I would be going there in a few days. She told me to be careful when I went out, to take care of myself, and to bring extra clothes because the temperature difference there was huge and the climate was bad. She also reminded me to bring cold medicine, etc. Her genuine concern touched me, and I said I would send her my new number when I got there.

II. In my lonely days, our hearts grew closer. The days of conducting fieldwork were tough.

Arriving in an unfamiliar place, coupled with the difficulty of adapting to the local climate, presented many challenges.

A significant part of my work involved visiting villages and households, reading novels. Due to the significant differences between local customs and those of our own, coupled with some events that occurred in 2008, the locals were very wary of outsiders.

After much effort, I finally settled in a village, but life there was monotonous, and my project was difficult to progress. To make my research valuable, I traveled everywhere, even to more remote places, but despite my efforts, I still didn't achieve satisfactory results.

A week after arriving, I met some people, and to make it easier to stay in touch, I decided to get a SIM card. I immediately gave her my number, feeling a pang of loneliness and a need for someone to talk to. She quickly replied with a caring text message, which warmed my heart.

In the days that followed, work slowly progressed, but due to various reasons, I developed some health problems.

First, I wasn't used to the food; I wasn't full, the food wasn't digested properly, my stomach felt hard, and I had difficulty defecating.

I rented a room in a local courtyard; it was a single room.

Two elderly people lived there, and because we didn't speak the same language, communication was very difficult.

It rained a lot there, and the convective weather was strong. One night, my hard stomach suddenly started to hurt terribly. I ran outside to find a latrine. The night was pitch black, with dark clouds everywhere. I held a flashlight in the latrine. The village was eerily quiet, with only the occasional bark of a dog.

Suddenly, thunder roared, and the wind and rain intensified. But my stomach was still hurting, so I didn't dare go back inside, afraid that the pain would make it even harder to go.

A long time passed, and I checked the time; it was already midnight. My stomach finally felt a little better. I mustered my courage and ran back to my room, my clothes soaked through.

That night was incredibly long. The deafening thunder outside made me curl up into a ball, feeling terrified. I realized then how terrifying loneliness can be; even the familiar thunder in a lonely night can make a man so vulnerable.

That night, I was woken up by a high fever. The night seemed endless. Finally, I heard the clear chirping of birds. I dragged my numb body out of bed and struggled to the clinic alone.

I knew I needed an IV drip; I wasn't at home.

After the drip, I returned to my place, ate something, wrapped myself in blankets, and went to bed early. My cold seemed to be getting better; the fever had subsided quickly. I was glad I didn't need many IV drips, which explained the significant effect.

Because I had slept for a while after the drip, I was surprisingly alert that night. Combined with my improved cold, my mood wasn't so bad.

I didn't want to organize my thoughts, didn't want to think about problems; being alone was so boring.

So I took out my phone and went online, but it only made me feel emptier.

I decided to call my family, friends, and other close acquaintances one by one, and see who answered first, implying they were close to me, the one suffering outside.

I called my parents, classmates, and friends several times, and somehow I also dialed her number, which was also a form of harassment.

Many people just sent a text message to check in. My parents called me quickly to ask how I was doing, and I told them everything was fine and I was in good health.

About an hour later, around 10 p.m., a phone call came in. In the countryside, most people are asleep at this time, and the yard is quiet. The phone rang urgently and sharply. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly answered. It was her. It was that voice, a gentle voice with a slight hoarseness.

"Sorry, the shipment just arrived, and I'm unloading it. I didn't have time to call you back. I'm done now, and I'm so tired. Have you eaten? Are you okay?" I told her I had a cold, and she anxiously asked if I had taken medicine, urging me to take it quickly. She even scolded me, saying, "I told you to take your medicine with you when you go out, but you definitely didn't listen to me." I then said in a tone that even I found hard to accept, "It's okay. I caught a cold last night, and I'm almost better after getting an IV today. I just wanted to delay calling you. Are you okay?" Because I don't have a sister, talking to her like this always makes me play a different role, and this is the first time I've done it, so I'm not used to it yet.

She said, "Wait a minute, I just finished unloading the shipment, and I'm very dirty. I'll wash up and call you back."

After hanging up the phone, the waiting felt long. I held my phone close to my heart.

Reading the novel, it seemed like a long time had passed, but it was only about ten minutes. I guessed my sister should be finished showering, so I called back. After three rings, she answered, "I was just about to call you. I just finished showering and am making the bed… Ah, so tired, lying down feels so good." Then we both giggled.

That very night, I curled up in my blankets, and she curled up in hers, leaning against the phone, talking to each other for a long time.

That night, I learned that she was the husband and the wife who had committed suicide, and how difficult her life had been.

That very night, I told her I had a wish, and she said she had one too. I said she should go first, but she let me. So I spoke first, telling her I didn't have a sister, and that she seemed like a very kind person, so I asked if I could call her "sister" from now on. As soon as I said this, feeling a little embarrassed, she seemed to pause, then smiled happily, and then cried sadly.

It turned out her wish was also for me to become her younger brother; it turned out she was an orphan, an all-child since childhood.

That night, I wrapped my head tightly in the blanket and confided in a sister I had never met before, a sister whose face I didn't even know. Listening to her pour out her heart, I felt our hearts were so close. I greedily called her "sister, sister, sister, sister, sister..." She said somewhat shyly, "Silly little brother, silly little brother, take good care of yourself, eat well, sister will come to see you when she has time..." From then on, every happy and troublesome day was filled with memories shared with my sister.

Time passed quickly, and I could say that I had completed the first phase of my investigation ahead of schedule. As the rapeseed flowers faded, I dragged my luggage back to school, covered in dirt. It was August 15th, and there was a slight cool breeze. I didn't know if it was an autumn breeze. I told her that I was back at school and asked her not to worry, as the weather had gotten cooler and that she should take good care of herself.

III. First Meeting: The Most Unforgettable Memory In mid-August, after returning to school, although classes hadn't officially started, I had many things to do: writing reports, organizing data. Soon it was September, and it was back to the usual tedious tasks of starting school: meeting teachers, submitting assignments, participating in project meetings. Being busy made life less empty, and the events of those lonely days gradually faded away. I'm a conservative person; I've never had any strangers online. Although I thought of her, I felt that a sister-brother relationship wasn't real. How could I guarantee it wouldn't develop in other ways? So I thought it best to leave it at that and not contact her unless necessary. Besides, given her current situation, it wouldn't be good for others to know. (

Book lovers are all reading novels on DedeLe!) However, our contact continued; we often texted each other, and I simply replied. It seemed she could sense the change in me, frequently asking what was wrong. I just answered that I was busy, but she still cared for me.

National Day arrived quickly; finally, I could rest, I told myself.

That day, I bought an IC phone card, planning to make several calls to my parents, grandparents, and close friends.

After dinner, I sat on a school bench, holding the phone and chatting until ten o'clock.

Back in the dorm, my roommate said, "Your phone was practically jumping off the bed!" I then remembered my phone was on vibrate; that old phone really vibrated a lot.

It showed 16 missed calls. Sister... I took a deep breath, feeling how sincere she was towards me.

She said she hadn't expected me to look so young, really like a child.

Her words revealed a subtle, deep affection.

Her hands were round and beautiful, with calluses on her palms—unavoidable from constantly handling metal tools—but these calluses made me feel more grounded.

She was beautiful, a beauty beyond my ability to describe; that beauty remains in my heart, lingering there for a long time.

Her hair was tied up, her skin was delicate, and she wore light makeup. Her eyes were downy, and she didn't look like a young widow. I sat next to her and secretly told her sister, "Seeing you like this makes me feel relieved. You're a strong person; life hasn't crushed you." She still smiled charmingly, a smile that made me feel loved. I wanted to keep watching her smile like that. We held hands tightly, our fingers intertwined, a gesture of reluctance. I knew she was leaving, and I just wanted her to feel my sadness.

The car arrived; thankfully, we still had to wait for someone else. I bought her a drink, but at first she insisted I take it home, saying she wasn't thirsty.

The empty seats at the front of the bus were all taken, so she pulled me to the last row. I knew she was leaving, and I felt a pang of sadness. The feeling after we met was beyond my expectations.

I poured her some water, and she drank a little. Some water dripped onto her clothes—a white t-shirt. She was quite voluptuous, with a round, soft figure. As she wiped the water off, I suddenly noticed her beautiful lips, which I had never seen before. Perhaps it was because of the heat, but her lips were a little dry, and I felt a pang of sympathy.

This became one of the most profound memories she left me with—those lips, the most unforgettable lips, those heart-wrenching lips.

The bus was about to leave, and the driver told everyone seeing people off to get off. At that moment, she pinched me hard, stared at me for a moment, and I returned her the kind of affection we needed; she understood.

I went to the front of the bus to pay her fare. She saw it and ran over, insisting I pay. Of course, I insisted; it was only a little over ten yuan, but it was an expression of affection. She pretended to be angry, looking at me; I knew it was out of concern for me. I was truly reluctant to let her go, but the bus quickly disappeared from my sight.

I received a text message from my brother: "Hurry back, your sister cares about you. I didn't realize we were already so close.

Take care of yourself; you look a little thin. Eat well.

Don't worry about your sister."

When I got back to school by bus, I went straight to eat.

After dinner, she texted me: "Little brother, I've arrived. Don't worry, go eat." I replied, "Sister, I've already eaten. You go eat. You haven't had time to eat with me. Text me if you're free tonight, and I'll call you."

IV. Lost in the Sweet Whirlpool of My Sister's Love: The feeling after seeing her was wonderful, making me think of her constantly—that mature, beautiful, kind woman who seemed to lack a man's love.

Our contact became noticeably more frequent afterward, and my calling her "sister" and her responses held a certain unspoken ambiguity.

Every time I said, "Sister, I miss you," she would always say, "Silly little brother, you're so young." I truly felt like she was my own brother.

One night, she got drunk and called me. She was reading a novel and telling me about the hardships of life. At that time, there was a railway construction project in their area, and some contractors were ordering some things from the hardware store. So the landlady asked her to go drinking and eating with some of the contractors. Of course, she didn't want to, but she went anyway for the sake of making a living. After she got there, she said she wouldn't drink, but the contractors forced her to drink. She said the situation was very awkward. In the end, she drank most of a bottle of baijiu (Chinese liquor) in a fit of anger and threw up when she got home. She misses me a lot now, and she feels so lonely.

My heart stirred with love. I called out to my sister repeatedly, trying to comfort her. Finally, I suggested visiting her this weekend

. She hesitated for a moment before agreeing, saying that her place was a small town and that she was a widow, afraid of gossip. However, she said I looked very young and that it shouldn't matter, and that I should come instead, as she missed me. The weekend finally arrived. Because she had to work, I didn't leave until 5 pm on Saturday. I put on my new clothes, bought my sister a roast duck, and the car entered a small road after leaving the city. The ride was bumpy, and after about an hour, I got off at a place called Xjiaping, guided by my sister.

As soon as I got off the bus, still feeling the heat and not yet having changed, my sister grabbed my arm. "You must be tired, little brother," she said. "I told you I was in town, and you believe me now. Are you hungry? I'm off work, let's go get some food."

I said I wasn't hungry, and then she told me to follow her. We went around behind a row of houses. She said the landlady was still in the shop. Her place was behind the hardware store, also the landlady's house. There was a yard if you went around from the back, so no one could see you.

When we got to her place, it was a small room that served as both bedroom and kitchen, but it was very tidy. My sister quickly poured me some water and gave me a towel to wipe my sweat.

I smiled foolishly at my sister, "You're so good to me. I can do it myself. You seem to have lost weight lately, sister." She smiled and said, "No, I haven't noticed."

"Aren't you hungry? How about we go for a walk?" I said, "Sure," and put down my bag and we went out.

My sister took two pieces of chewing gum with her, giving me one and keeping one for herself.

It was already autumn, and the days were getting shorter. By six o'clock, it was already sunset.

My sister was wearing a coat over a t-shirt. I asked her if she was cold, and she shook her head. We passed fields of harvested wheat, and she suddenly grabbed my hand. I knew no one could see us now. I followed her through a tunnel under the railway. On the other side were mountains. She said her home was on this mountain, and after crossing another mountain, we would be there.

I told my sister to find a place to sit. Stones left from the road construction had rolled into the ravine, and we found a larger one and sat down.

My sister asked me what I thought of the place, and I said it was nice. But what did it matter if it was nice or not? I was there to see my sister.

A gentle evening breeze was blowing. My sister, worried I was cold, pulled me close from behind, and I held her tightly too. We watched the sunlight grow weaker and weaker as the people working in the fields went home.

I hugged my sister tightly, resting my chin on her neck. She spat out her chewing gum and buried her head.

Because her jacket wasn't zipped up, her t-shirt was round-neck, and when she buried her head, her chest was visible to me. I felt a surge of heat, straddled the other rock, sat on a higher spot, and pulled my sister directly into my arms, wrapping my arms around her waist.

My sister is voluptuous, but her waist isn't chubby; it's just round and soft. I leaned close to her ear and called out, "Sister, do you know how much I miss you?" She smiled and said, "Silly little brother, I miss you too." I bit her earlobe, and I felt her waist suddenly straighten, and her eyes closed.

I slowly rubbed my chin against her neck, slowly, slowly. I spat out my chewing gum (my sister is so thoughtful), and gently stroked her face with my cheek. She had her eyes closed, so I dared to greedily look at her breasts. They were so round, so white, with a deep, bottomless cleavage. I tightened my grip on her waist again, and with one more push, I lifted my hands slightly, and slowly, I grasped her breasts. My sister let out a soft moan, and leaned back into my arms. I unrolled one hand from her waist and slipped it inside her t-shirt. Her round, large breasts bulged out of her bra. I gently caressed them, and her breathing became uneven. Suddenly, she let out a soft "hmm," and our lips met, hot and passionate. My tongue quickly slipped inside, and my sister sucked on it, her mouth full of sweet saliva. The whole valley was quiet, except for the sounds of my sister and me, "Mmm, mmm, sister, little brother, I miss you, sister, so sweet..." Time seemed to pass slowly. After kissing her lips, I kissed her beautiful breasts. Under the dark sky, my sister unhooked her bra, and I buried my head in her breasts, sucking hard. Saliva soaked her breasts. My sister's voice grew louder, constantly scolding me for being a bad little brother, "You're so bad!" She kept feeding me her big nipples with her hands. My penis had been hard for a long time, and now it was being pressed under my sister's soft buttocks. My sister noticed and said, "Little brother, be careful, don't hurt me," and then she spread her buttocks apart.

I couldn't take it anymore. I gasped for breath, calling out "Sister" in a coquettish voice, and pulled her onto my lap.

I sucked on her nipple; her whole body was straight, lying on my lap with her legs wide open. To hold her tighter and prevent her from slipping, I tried to lift her up, but her large buttocks made it difficult to find a foothold. Somehow, my hand accidentally slipped between her legs, and grasping her buttocks easily pulled her up.

But once my hand was there, I didn't want to leave. I gently stroked that area; my sister was probably close to orgasm, her mouth wide open, moaning incessantly.

I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled one of her hands to my penis, and she grabbed it through my pants, gripping it tightly.

She exposed her waist, and I took the opportunity to unzip my pants and thrust against her waist. My hand, guided by my sister, had already entered a patch of furry wetness. We started screaming, "Ah, ah, ah, sister, brother, good sister, silly brother, I feel so good, so good, sister, brother!" The whole valley was filled with our long-buried, unrestrained sounds.

In the final moment, my sister collapsed on my lap, and I ejaculated my hot semen onto her waist.

My sister got up and looked at me lovingly, wiping the semen off her body with her t-shirt…

It was completely dark, thankfully the moon was still out. My sister took my arm and we walked upstairs, constantly blaming herself for letting me go hungry, etc. I just acted like a spoiled child, hugging her from behind, pulling her along, and occasionally sneaking a nip at her. My sister giggled.

Suddenly, I remembered something and said, “Sister, let’s not eat yet. I bought you roast duck, it’s in my bag, let’s eat it when we get back.”

I also asked her where I was staying that night. She said there were two guesthouses on the street, so I’d have to make do.

I reluctantly agreed.

She knew what I was thinking and secretly told me that the landlady sometimes stayed in that courtyard instead of going back home. Tonight, the boss was going to pick up goods, and the landlady might have to deliver them too, so she wouldn't be going back either. I told her it was okay, sister, seeing you was enough. She touched my face and kissed me.

Actually, I knew my sister's difficulties. The hardware store was a single-story building; the front was a row of shops, and the back had a courtyard.

There were five or six rooms in the courtyard, used as storage and living quarters. Three of them were occupied: my sister's room, the boss's room next to hers, and another room down in the courtyard that seemed to be rented out.

There was a dog in the courtyard, chained up near the gate.

My sister insisted on taking me out to eat, saying they had a really good big plate of chicken and wanted me to try it. I couldn't resist her, so we went. I ate some, and for some reason, I wasn't hungry. I secretly told my sister, "Sister, seeing you makes me not hungry anymore!" She looked at me shyly, gestured for me to lean in her ear, said "Me too," and kissed me.

Because we were in a private room, we weren't worried about being seen.

Such a beautiful woman, once she trusts a man, she reveals all her gentleness and sweetness. Gazing at her, my heart was filled with sweetness; I felt like that man, and she brought me an unprecedented happiness.

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The pitiful widow is my adopted sister.

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