A Shanghai office lady's serendipitous encounter on Gulangyu Island

As the year draws to a close, Shanghai remains as bustling as ever. The Yan'an Road Tunnel and elevated highways are still
congested day and night, making even walking on the streets feel stifling. The office politics seem endless, with all
sorts of gossip flying around – one minute someone's been promoted to department manager, the next someone's been pre-selected for
the highest bonus. After working for so many years, I'm tired of this outwardly glamorous but inwardly dull life.
Even my close friends scattered throughout Shanghai can't alleviate my loneliness.
Shanghai isn't a good place for winter; the apartment buildings lack heating, and the streets are often windy. As
a seasoned office lady, I have to wear a heavy leather coat over my business suit on my way to work, plus
hand warmers to keep warm. This year, winter came especially early, as if summer turned to winter overnight, and
I caught a cold without warning. Despite a fever of 39 degrees Celsius, I persevered and worked for two weeks until the fever subsided
, and work finally started to progress. My team successfully closed a large order with an overseas client, so my year-end
bonus looks secure, and I even received a special commendation from the vice president. Now I know I can finally enjoy my long-awaited
annual leave.
For the past three years, I've had leftover annual leave that automatically expires the following year. This year, at least I have
a window of opportunity to take leave, and the advantages of being single are becoming apparent: no need to consult anyone, no need to pack a ton of luggage,
no need to consider a man's opinion—I can go wherever I want, just grab my suitcase and go. But
where to go? I considered Yangshuo, Lijiang, and Sanya, but ultimately chose Xiamen,
a city not far from Shanghai that I'd never been to. I packed very little: a few summer dresses, enough underwear for a week
, several sets of pajamas and bathrobes, a laptop and a tablet, a few books, personal hygiene products and cosmetics
—enough to fill even one suitcase.
My accumulated business travel miles are enough to redeem for a round-trip first-class ticket from Shanghai to Xiamen. It was a rare and
luxurious trip, yet I slept the entire time, leaving all my worries and anxieties behind. When I opened
my eyes, the azure sea was already visible through the window. Stepping off the plane, the heat was oppressive. I dragged my suitcase straight
to the changing room, stripping off my outdated coat, sweater, and thermal underwear from Shanghai
, and changing into my carefully chosen vacation attire: a white dress with pink floral prints, paired with Chanel camellia
sandals, and casually tying my long hair into a ponytail. Looking at myself in the mirror, I felt like I had instantly
transformed from a lifeless office lady into a naive and fresh-faced young woman, looking several years younger, with a completely different aura. At that
moment, I felt refreshed inside and out.
The guesthouse I booked was on Gulangyu Island, not far from the tourist pier. The main reasons I chose it, besides the sea view,
were the bathtub. I can't imagine a holiday without a bathtub: lying lazily in the tub in the afternoon or evening,
letting the hot water wash over my body and wash away the day's fatigue—that would be an unparalleled pleasure!
There aren't many guesthouses with bathtubs on Gulangyu Island, and I finally managed to book one. After taking the ferry to the island, I easily spotted
the guesthouse: it was larger than I expected, standing alone among the trees, its architectural style a bit old-fashioned,
but definitely not dilapidated.
A boy with a youthful appearance sat at the front desk, seemingly not yet an adult. I went up to ask him something, and
when he looked up and saw me, he froze, initially thinking I had something on my face; then he
lowered his head shyly, blushing slightly, and I realized what had happened. The last time I made a boy blush was probably back in
my senior year of college; I didn't expect to still have that charm now, which made me a little smug.
The young man was very reserved in my presence, barely saying a word. He silently checked me in, carried my
luggage to my room, and then quickly ran off, leaving me to cover my mouth and laugh.
The guesthouse room was exactly the same as the pictures online; the bathroom was semi-open, and the large bathtub was polished to a shine,
reflecting your image. However, I had no time to appreciate it. After resting for a while, I picked up my handbag and went outside for a stroll—
around four in the afternoon is the best time to visit Gulangyu. I walked from Longtou Road to the Piano Museum, and then continued along the coastal
path, where I could see the skyscrapers of Xiamen in the distance. I wandered around, stopping whenever I felt tired, sometimes going into a
small shop or sitting in a café. Before I knew it, the city lights were coming on, and a gentle evening breeze was blowing
. I realized that the night view of Gulangyu was also quite beautiful. It wasn't peak tourist season yet, so there weren't too many tourists, and it didn't
feel crowded or lonely. That day, I was so engrossed in my outing that I didn't return to my room until after 10 PM.
I lay in the bathtub listening to my favorite music before going to bed and sleeping soundly through the night. That day, I felt like I
had swept away almost all the fatigue and exhaustion that had accumulated over the past year; it had been a long time since I had felt so relaxed.
I woke up at 9 AM the next morning. I had a quick breakfast downstairs at the inn and then began my
aimless wandering again. I visited the organ museum, bought some things on Longtou Road, and unknowingly wandered down a
quiet alley. Ivy climbed the houses along the alley, and my sandals clicked on the stone slabs
. Walking on these stone slabs was a bit tiring, and besides, I was thirsty. Seeing a
charmingly decorated café ahead, I pushed open the door and went inside.
The café was small, with only a few tables and a bar counter. An old-fashioned gramophone sat on the counter, and
old movie posters adorned the walls. I remember seeing posters for *A Clockwork Orange* and *2001: A Space Odyssey*. I
chose a seat towards the back, opened the menu, and hesitated for a long time, unsure what to drink. Just then,
a customer sitting next to me said, "Their Mandheling coffee is pretty good. If you're drinking coffee
, you should order that."
I looked up and saw a tall man in a plaid shirt, about thirty years old (or maybe slightly older),
with bright eyes and a small mustache. He wasn't particularly handsome, but he was very approachable and inspiring trust.
I smiled and said, "Okay, I'll do it your way." The man stood up and called out to the counter, "Boss
, you have to make the best Mandheling coffee, not just anything like that!" I noticed he was wearing jeans and canvas
shoes, with a neat short haircut; seemingly ordinary, yet possessing a certain charm.
The owner behind the counter agreed and started making coffee. The tall man sat down, and we naturally began
chatting. He was from Xiamen, lived on Gulangyu Island, and had his own business, but he was very free-spirited and didn't frequent
the shop often. I found that his artistic tastes were very similar to mine, and we quickly started talking about Tim Burton's films and
Haruki Murakami's novels. I mentioned to him that I really liked Joe Hisaishi's music, and he immediately gestured for the owner to play
Hisaishi's records. Soon, the theme song from "The Sun Also Rises" filled the coffee shop, and the atmosphere became very pleasant.
Before I knew it, I had finished my cup of Mandheling coffee, and the owner brought me a glass of lemonade. I politely said
thank you. The tall man asked me what my name was, and I said, "Shangguan Yulan." He exclaimed, "Shangguan
is a very elegant surname, and Yulan is a fragrant flower. The family that could give you this name must be full of
scholarly atmosphere." He told me his name, adding that it was difficult to pronounce and that people didn't like to use it, so they all called him by
his English name: Star. This reminded me of the
little boy in the blue hat in South Park.
After finishing my lemonade, I politely stood up to say goodbye, and we walked out together. I turned left
, and Star turned right. That evening, I took a ferry to Xiamen city and
wandered around the Xiamen University campus until late at night. I had thought that meeting Star was just a mundane encounter on my journey, and I hadn't
expected anything to come of it. But things always take unexpected turns.
The next day at noon, I changed into a different outfit—the most gorgeous dress I had brought. It was a dark green
silk satin halter dress, exquisitely made, and very short, barely covering half of my thighs.
Large, beautiful sequined flowers shimmered prominently on the chest, perfectly accentuating the shape of my breasts.
I paired this dress with green sandals, studded with several rings of rhinestones. Meanwhile, I no longer wore
my hair in a girlish ponytail, but let my shoulder-length hair fall softly, highlighting my fair face. I deliberately
wore high-contrast makeup: very red lips, very black eyelashes, and a subtle gold powder around my eyes.
This outfit was more suited to Shanghai's Xintiandi or Hengshan Road than Gulangyu Island. Looking at myself in the mirror
, I suddenly felt that this woman was secretly quite alluring—no matter where she went, she always brought her best dress
and wore it whenever she had the chance.
I didn't know why I dressed like this; maybe after two days of being a fresh-faced
young woman, I wanted to transform into a mature and charming woman. A change of image always makes one feel refreshed. Walking on the street, my posture was
steady, yet I always had a slight urge to sway my hips, as if issuing a silent temptation to passersby. I
enjoyed the freedom of walking anonymously, strolling to a small shop selling nougat, observing their
candy packaging. Then, I turned around and saw Stan.
For a moment, I was stunned. He was still dressed the same as yesterday, in a plaid shirt and jeans, only the
shirt color was slightly different. His eyes held less of the polite reserve he'd shown when we first met, and more of the warmth of a reunion.
He called out to me, "Yulan, you like this nougat too?" I didn't know what to say, just smiled, and
after a long pause replied, "You know this place so well, tell me which one is good!"
In the end, we not only bought nougat there, but Stan treated us, and he also bought me
a cup of rose tea. Walking out of the little shop, the afternoon sun warmed my back.
Stan openly admired me, and I accepted his gaze without a care. As we walked, he said,
"Yulan, this dress of yours is perfect for an artistic photoshoot."
"Really? I haven't had an artistic photoshoot in a long time, because I haven't had the time or the mood," I replied.
Starn smiled slyly: "Now you have the time and the mood?"
I frowned slightly: "Well, how so?"
Starn laughed heartily: "Have you forgotten what I told you yesterday? I opened a small shop on Gulangyu Island.
It doesn't sell anything; it's a photography studio. Although it's small, the photographers are absolutely top-notch."
Seeing my surprised silence, Starn added: "I am the photographer."
I looked at Starn again. He really did look like a photographer, although not the unkempt,
bearded artist type. His fingers were slender; I wondered what it would be like to press the shutter. I
hadn't made up my mind yet—taking artistic photos wasn't on my vacation plans. But soon I didn't need to make
a decision anymore, because we walked a few steps to his photography studio. It was called a photography studio, but it was only one
story, the kind of old-fashioned building common in Gulangyu from the concession era. The door was ajar. Starn stepped forward,
pushed open the door, and then made a gentlemanly gesture of invitation. I thought for a moment, then followed him inside.
The space wasn't small, but it wasn't huge either. I didn't know anything about photography equipment, so I watched Star operate it.
I asked him if I needed to change. He smiled and said, "Your outfit today is already very good. Let's
shoot for now, and if you need to change after this set, you can change." He then looked at my hair and
makeup and said, "The hairstyle is nice, but the makeup is too heavy. It's best to use lighter makeup. The makeup artist
isn't here today, so I'll do your makeup."
I sat in front of the mirror and let him remove my makeup. After removing the makeup, my skin in the mirror was still very fair,
and my expression was no longer so glamorous and overtly seductive; instead, it regained a fresh and innocent feel. As he reapplied my
makeup, he said, "You're not suited to that kind of glamorous style. You should be a balance between freshness and maturity—
this dress is quite mature and alluring, so pairing it with light makeup will achieve that balance." Then, he
did my hair again, basically maintaining my original hairstyle, and then gestured for me to get up and shoot.
I stood in front of the set, striking pose after pose according to Stan's instructions. It was clear
Stan was very serious and professional. After one set of shots, he told me to check the results. I never imagined
I could be photographed like this; I almost thought I was a goddess, haha. Then,
instead of letting me change, Stan asked, "This outfit you're wearing today is perfect for street photography. Want to give it a try?"
Ten minutes later, I stood at the intersection outside the photography studio, holding a parasol and smiling
at Stan. Since Stan was alone today, without any help, there was no way to get proper lighting; we had to
make do with what we had. It wasn't exactly a formal artistic photoshoot, but rather a spontaneous street shoot. We
walked down that intersection, stopping more than ten times and taking nearly a hundred photos, until we reached
the vicinity of the Gulangyu tourist pier. Seeing that it was already three o'clock, I said to him a little apologetically, "You must
be tired after shooting for so long. Why don't you take a break? Thank you so much."
Stan said, "Okay, let's go back to the photography studio first, put our things down, and then have some tea and rest
."
I followed behind Stan, the sea breeze blowing in our faces, and various kinds of trees overhead; I could
only recognize ginkgo and plane trees. Pigeons and magpies flew in the sky, and I couldn't help but wonder if there were any eagles. The sea breeze
blew against my face, but it wasn't salty at all; it only had a fresh scent. Gulangyu is a refreshing
island: the air smells fresh, the trees and lawns are fresh, the architectural style is fresh, the things sold in the shops are fresh, and
my style here has become fresh too. The road gradually became steeper, and I tried to keep up with Star's pace
. He kindly stopped to wait for me several times. Suddenly, I found the road deserted, as if it were just
the two of us. A gust of wind blew the clouds overhead, making the road very shady; another gust of wind blew the clouds away, and
the sunlight shone down again. I saw Star's camera reflecting light. The sea breeze occasionally lifted my skirt,
sometimes revealing my underwear. I shyly reached up to press it down, wondering if Star turned around and saw it.
Finally back at the studio in Stan, we went inside. He put down his camera, and I put down my umbrella. He
pointed at me and laughed, "You've been sweating a lot; your forehead is all sweaty." I instinctively reached out to wipe my sweat, and
he grabbed a tissue from the side and handed it to me. I took it, but before I could even
hold it, he gripped my hand tightly. His hand felt warm, and I tried to pull away, but I couldn't. In that instant, I shuddered
, my breathing quickening. I tried to speak, but the next second, my mouth was sealed.
It was a passionate kiss. His hands went around my back, pulling me forcefully into his embrace, and then
he precisely kissed my lips. Even though I shook my head, I couldn't escape. He tasted my
lip gloss briefly before forcing open my lips and teeth. I wanted to scream, but every word was blocked by his
tongue, and soon our tongues were intertwined. This was so different from what I had imagined. In the past
, the men I'd been with either relentlessly pursued me or treated me with utmost respect. They always
had a long process of courtship and flattery before finally winning my favor. I never imagined I'd be
so passionately kissing a man I'd known for less than twenty-four hours. This wasn't my usual image. In my suitors' minds,
I was supposed to be a woman in a dark suit, unsmiling, aloof with a queen-like air, quiet on dates, and
often unresponsive to their advances.
Now, Stan had effortlessly shattered my facade. I was no longer
the office lady in a suit and heels, nor the cold queen. Only the identity of a woman remained; all the careful
embellishment, calculation, and pretense had vanished. Breathless from the kiss, I opened my eyes and saw his
half-smiling eyes and neatly trimmed sideburns. Then he released me, our lips parted, and I staggered
back two steps. Just as I was about to speak, he reached out and grabbed me again, this time lifting me up in his arms. He
was at least twenty centimeters taller than me, strong and muscular, and easily carried me in a princess carry towards
the back room—the place where we had just filmed. At the far end of that room was a wooden staircase. He
slowly climbed the stairs. I looked up at the ceiling, noticing the light was noticeably stronger on the second floor than on the first. Then,
I felt a dizzying sensation and was thrown onto a bed.
This must be his bedroom; there was a desk and a wardrobe. The bed was fairly clean, and
there were many books piled on the bedside table. Before I could even take in my surroundings, he pounced on me, tearing at my dress.
Afraid he would tear it, I gripped his arm tightly and cried, "No, be gentle!" Putting on and taking
off that dress was a struggle; it wasn't something you could just do casually. Stan reached for my straps
, but they were too tight, and he couldn't get them off immediately. He tried to pull them off forcefully, but the dress
was made of a very durable material; although it was crumpled and torn, it didn't rip. He sighed in dissatisfaction
and kissed me again, sucking my tongue relentlessly, making me feel completely drained. Then, his hands moved to my
waist and hips, rolling up the hem of the dress to reveal my dark green panties. They were lace-up
panties, barely covering my private parts, leaving my snow-white thighs completely exposed.
I closed my eyes, partly out of shyness and partly out of nervousness. He kissed my eyelashes, his movements
becoming gentler, and placed a pillow under my waist, making my private parts protrude high. Then,
my underwear was ripped off, the straps snapped, leaving only two plain pieces of fabric. I instinctively tried to close
my thighs, but before I could, he opened them again, and something hot and hard
thrust into me. It had been so long since I'd felt this way; the last time I shared a bed with my ex-boyfriend was two years ago, and I'd even
forgotten what it felt like. That fiery force violently surged into my body, and under the intense stimulation, I
opened my eyes to see large beads of sweat on his forehead. I gripped his waist tightly with my thighs, letting out a soft cry of pain; but he showed no mercy, only knowing to thrust forcefully, 　　reopening
my long-unused passage inch by inch . 　　He was strong, domineering, and direct. Each time, he thrust to my deepest point; I hadn't even known it could go 　　so deep, and I was afraid I would be split in two. After the initial tension and discomfort, my body and mind 　　became highly excited. I clung to him tightly, and a large amount of warm fluid gushed out of me. I 　　could even hear the "sizzling" sound as he entered and exited. I was still wearing a dress, and the sequins on my chest were shimmering violently.

The fabric scattered in the movement, landing everywhere. I began to moan, the sounds growing louder until even I blushed
. Then, he slowed his pace slightly, gently biting my cheek before taking my mouth
and tongue into his again. He cupped my breasts in his hands; though my bra wasn't off yet,
he could feel my erect nipples through the thin fabric. His tongue, fingers, and genitals simultaneously stimulated my most sensitive
areas, rhythmically and perfectly. I shook my hair, completely disoriented,
utterly conquered by this man.
I'm not an easy woman to climax, but under him, my arousal threshold seemed to drop
dramatically; I easily became limp, like a doll at his mercy. As my body
relaxed, my dress was finally removed, and my bra flew onto the carpet, my naked body completely
exposed before him. He exclaimed, "Yu Lan, what beautiful breasts!" Then he enveloped my nipple with his tongue
, gently sucking, while his lower body quickened its pace. Less than a minute later, my climax arrived.
My whole body trembled violently, and I uttered words I didn't even understand. My legs first wrapped around his waist, then
limply fell back down. At almost the same time, his fluids gushed out inside me, filling me completely
, the warm feeling spreading all the way to my uterus.
That night, Stan and I lay entwined in the inn's large bathtub, letting the hot water submerge us
. The bathtub wasn't big enough for two people to lie side-by-side, so I sat on him, feeling his member slowly grow larger and harder inside me
. Then I lowered my head to kiss him, trying to take the initiative, moving my hips up and down,
while he supported my waist and hips, helping me control the rhythm. I wasn't very good at the woman-on-top position,
so after trying it for a while, I switched to lying in the water while Star lay on top of me, guiding me to wrap my legs up
so he could easily enter and exit me underwater. Making love in the water felt a little awkward, a little warm, and a little novel. In this
situation, he seemed to be able to last longer, until I was highly aroused and dizzy, when he finally
released completely. Afterwards, I saw his fluids and mine float to the surface and then be flushed down
the drain. His energy seemed inexhaustible; before I had even finished drying myself, he threw me back onto the bed.
For the next four days, we explored almost every possibility between a man and a woman on Gulangyu Island. At
the highest point of Gulangyu—Sunlight Rock—under the starlight at midnight, I hid in the shadows, my skirt lifted to my waist, my
white buttocks raised, my thighs spread, waiting for Star to fill me. He didn't take off his jeans, just let his penis
protrude from the zipper, grabbed my arm from behind, and thrust into me in one go. I
never imagined this kind of standing, illicit sex would happen to me. I've always been a good girl, how could I do
something so shameless? But there was something even more shameless. After dawn, he took me to
the balcony of his apartment, made me hold onto the railing, and look down at the scattered tourists. I was about to protest, but
before I could even turn my head, he had already thrust into me from behind. In full view of everyone, I bit my lip hard,
trying not to make any noise, letting him do as he pleased from behind, his waist slapping against my buttocks,
making a constant slapping sound. This man truly made me both love and hate him; I seemed to have no bottom line in front of him.
During breaks in sex, he took me to eat the most authentic seafood in Xiamen. He also gave me many
independent music CDs from his collection and told me stories about those musicians. As the sun set, we sat side by side on
the long bridge over the water beneath the Piano Museum. I felt a familiar yet strange sensation towards him. Familiar because we had
thoroughly enjoyed each other's bodies; he had explored almost every inch of my skin, experiencing every orgasm I had.
Strange because we actually knew nothing about each other. Besides names, general backgrounds, and our methods of making love, did we really
know each other? Yet, I didn't want to delve too deeply into understanding Stan; some things were better left unsaid
. If we were old friends, knowing everything about each other, would we still be able to have sex so easily,
to bring each other to orgasm so easily? Obviously not. Then, I would revert to being a cold, aloof office lady
, a meticulously groomed, queen-like older woman. I didn't want that. Stan wasn't my pursuer
; he was the hunter, and I was the prey, and I enjoyed being conquered by him.
On the eve of leaving Gulangyu, we made love tenderly on the large bed in the guesthouse. I asked him if our
encounter at the nougat shop was truly a coincidence. If it weren't for that encounter, none of this would have happened;
fate is truly wondrous.
Stan frankly admitted: it wasn't a coincidence. Not only was that encounter not a coincidence, but even our first
meeting at the coffee shop wasn't accidental. From my very first day on Gulangyu Island, he had noticed me because
he frequently passed by the guesthouse where I was staying. After witnessing me twice, he felt this woman was like a
ray of sunshine, and he had to seize the opportunity; he couldn't let it slip away. After following me for several hours, he
deduced my habits and assumed I would definitely go into that coffee shop. So, that afternoon, he
waited in the coffee shop until I appeared, and then we had a pleasant first conversation. What followed
was much simpler: Gulangyu is small, and the next morning he waited outside my guesthouse, lurking in a corner
, estimating my wandering route, and then following me into a small nougat shop. When I agreed to go into his
photo studio to have my portrait taken, I was already hooked; his hunt was successful.
I didn't ask him if he often hunted girls who came to Gulangyu like this. This was
a convergence of perfect timing, location, and circumstances; it was less a result of meticulous calculation and more a matter of fate. If I had rejected this serendipitous
encounter from the bottom of my heart, if my mental state hadn't been right, if the atmosphere on Gulangyu Island hadn't been so beautiful and ambiguous, then no matter
how he schemed, he could never have had me. Now, I lay naked in his arms, the window wide open,
listening to the rustling of leaves in the wind outside. He spread my legs wide, licking
me with his skillful tongue, making me tremble and leak fluid until it soaked the sheets. He licked me while simultaneously...
He showered me with compliments: "You're so beautiful, you're my goddess, you've driven me crazy, I love your body
so much, I love your breasts, your thighs, your waist, your vulva, I love penetrating you, I love hearing your
cries during orgasm, I love watching your fluids mix with my semen and slowly flow out..."
I couldn't hear any more, because my senses seemed to have given up, I could only feel the primal
urge. Then, he stopped talking, stopped his tongue, and entered me for what felt like the umpteenth time.
This time he was gentle, unlike his usual crude and direct style. We moved slowly, so slowly that I could hear
my heartbeat, allowing my senses to gradually return, I even drifted off a little. After five consecutive days of ecstatic orgasms
, this tender lovemaking felt like a small dessert. I held his
arm, listening to the occasional voices outside the window, and couldn't help but wonder: Where will I be tomorrow? Will I be back in that office, back among those people, the day after tomorrow
? Will we ever see each other again? Will I forget this incredible
encounter? Was this man merely a fleeting figure in my life, or…?
There were so many things I didn't understand, but before I could even process them, Stan's movements quickened
. He no longer restrained himself, instead using all his strength, like a pile driver, violently pounding into
my depths, more ferocious and swift than our first time. Within minutes, my reason was completely overwhelmed
, I even felt my soul leave my body. Tear me apart, stab me, crush me, devour me whole—
I frantically grabbed his back, biting his shoulders, uttering meaningless demands. I didn't know
when this fantastical sexual journey would end; perhaps I would reach climax in the next second, and he would ejaculate, that
would be our last. Right now, all I knew was to completely let go, to enjoy his violation and conquest
. A bird flapped its wings and flew past the window; I vaguely heard the sound, but didn't know what kind of bird it was. Perhaps
it was the sound of some couple, just like us, whose souls left their sheaths at the peak of their climax, soaring freely through the air?

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