Stealing Your Love [Complete] - Chapter 12

V. The Third Night (You Yang's Narration)

As I led Jingzhi away from the hall, I could feel her trembling, a slight tremor emanating from her fingertips. I gripped her soft, smooth hand, my heart pounding almost frantically.

When that wretched woman rushed over and yelled at Jingzhi, I almost had the urge to kill her. But… didn't I make a mistake back then?

If I hadn't mistakenly believed I loved this woman, if I had been smarter and hadn't been manipulated, if I had insisted on seeing Jingzhi's face, if…

so many ifs. As I looked at this hateful woman, I could see a fleeting, deep regret in her eyes. What was she regretting?

Regret for not seizing me, her golden opportunity? Regret for not being tactful enough? Regret for using a surrogate?

I didn't want to know what this woman regretted; I just wanted to leave with Jingzhi.

Why did I give her that hundred yuan? It wasn't out of pity; I couldn't be bothered with pity for that kind of woman. Actually, it was gratitude.

I'm grateful that it was through her that I met Jingzhi; otherwise, we might have missed each other.

Five years ago, after those three nights of passionate intimacy, I think I fell in love with Jingzhi's body. I began to resent Wu Yanya's approach, hated the artificial scent of her expensive French perfumes, and even disliked the sound of her voice.

I tried to find that girl, but to no avail. Later, when I unexpectedly rescued Jingzhi in front of the hospital, I had a vague sense of déjà vu. Rescuing her again later intensified that feeling.

I think I've fallen in love with her, but I'm unaware of it myself, only believing I'm attracted to her body.

What boy doesn't like a beautiful woman?

I used to like Wu Yanya, liked how she clung to me and tolerated my spoiled temper; I always liked Jingzhi, liked her fragility and helplessness, liked her pitiful appearance, liked the satisfaction of holding her in my arms…

Later, when I woke up from the severe coma after the car accident, when I learned that the accident was orchestrated by an enraged Wu Yanya to retaliate against me, I didn't hate her at all.

But when I learned that Jingzhi left our child behind and took a large sum of money, I think I hated her, hated her for not wanting the child, just like my mother didn't want me.

I think I love Jingzhi, otherwise why would I hate her so much?

Without profound love, there is no profound hatred. Perhaps that's why, after seeing Wu Yanya, I didn't hit or scold her. But if she dares to do anything to hurt my Jingzhi again, I think I will make her wish she were dead.

Jingzhi…

I gripped Jingzhi's hand tightly and pulled her away. I could feel her trembling, her struggle. When I led her back to the yard of that little wooden house, I turned around, and she was already in tears.

“Jingzhi…” I pulled her close, holding her tightly. I didn’t know how to treat her. She was crying. Was she crying because of the grievances she had just suffered, or because she was remembering the humiliation five years ago? “ Youyang

,” she wriggled in my arms, holding me tighter, “I love you, I love you more than ever .”

My body stiffened. What was she saying ? How many women in this world would say that to their husbands? ... “I said I love you just the way you are,” she said, tears welling in her eyes, her hand resting flat on my chest. “I love your kindness.” “Kindness? In today’s society, that doesn’t seem like a compliment.” I could hear the ache in my voice. “Have you forgotten how I treated you?” “I haven’t forgotten, but I haven’t forgotten how gentle you were to me.” Jingzhi hugged my waist tighter. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say her words shocked me. What was this girl like? How could she forgive me? Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with a pounding heart—because…? The way I hurt her, how I dreamt she left me… disappeared without a trace… What can prove I have her? What can prove I love her madly? What can prove she’s the only sunshine in my life? Squid, our lovely child… and her smile, the blush on her face, and the moment I entered her warm passage… that instant intoxication… I don’t know if I’m going crazy, I just want to bury myself inside her body… once… until we were both exhausted, until she… because of my endless… In the past, I was afraid, I was really afraid that all of this was a dream. Yes, it was a dream… those long, hazy five years… I shut myself off from all my senses, I lived like a walking corpse, listening to my subordinates’ reports, attending meetings, my brain seemed to be detached into two unrelated hemispheres. One half, like a robot, handled company affairs; the other half, like a snail, huddled tightly in that small, self-imposed shell, afraid to peek out. The robot half lived well, functioning normally, even exceeding expectations. During business negotiations, I'm a sharp, shrewd, even somewhat demanding businessman. I meticulously analyze every word and meaning in tenders, contracts, agreements, meeting minutes—down to the decimal point. The half of the snail retracted into its shell seems to be in a deep sleep, devoid of consciousness and form… Only at night, when unconscious sleep disturbs both halves of my brain, does the consciousness of the half retracted into its shell slowly awaken. In my dreams, I hold her… In my dreams, we make love passionately, repeatedly penetrating her softness, waking up in pain each time. Then, I relive the experience on the cold bed… Am I going crazy? My father is worried about my condition, but he won't express it directly. So, after a business dinner, he had his female secretary, who has always admired me, take me, completely drunk, back to my apartment. Everything was so perfect: the warm body of a woman in my palm, the familiar low moans in my ear… Heh, everything went smoothly, didn't it? I stripped her naked, along with my own, and pulled her onto the living room sofa, murmuring my longing and pain. But… when everything was ready, when I buried my face in her neck… the faint scent of orchids from that expensive Estée Lauder perfume wafted into my nostrils… It wasn’t her! This scent wasn’t her. A voice, piercing my alcohol-numbed nerves, screamed in my head, “It’s not the right woman, not at all! Never!” I pushed the woman away and collapsed backward…

"Get out!"

That was the only thing I said to that woman that day. The next day, she stood before me, tears welling in her eyes, sobbing as she handed me her resignation.

"President, please let me go. I can't look at you every day without loving you." Her words had a strong romance novel feel to them.

"You love me?" I signed my agreement on the report: "If I were a vegetable, would you still love me?"

She stared blankly, stunned.

I handed her the report. Sure enough, no woman would fall in love with a vegetable, not even my Jingzhi, and certainly not other women.

Five years, five years in the blink of an eye. No vacations, no leisure time. How many days had I not dreamed of her?

How many days had I been so exhausted that I collapsed onto the bed or sofa as soon as I got off work and slept soundly until dawn? Actually, the best sleeping pill is work.

Yes, I remember the pain. Even when I was too tired to dream, those inexplicable sorrows would occasionally stab my numb nerves.

I... am most afraid of dreaming.

I was scared, so scared…

“Youyang,” it was Jingzhi’s small, timid voice: “You’re trembling.”

I hugged her tightly: “Yes… I’m trembling, Jingzhi… tell me…”

“What?” Her voice was muffled.

“Tell me this isn’t a dream, tell me…” I murmured incoherently.

“It’s not a dream,” Jingzhi took my hand and pulled me forward: “Look up, there are stars… just like we saw on Treasure Island, and…”

She led me to the swing set in the middle of the courtyard: “This is a swing, I’ve always wanted to try it, I loved swinging when I was little.”

“Really?” I squeezed her hand. It was a huge, sturdy swing set with luxurious decorations. I pulled her onto it and gently swung, the cool evening breeze brushing against our cheeks.

I held her tightly, my voice almost desperate, and said, "Give it to me, give yourself to me."

"I'm right here," she said, slightly confused, then blushed as I lifted her up, her legs wrapped around my waist. I could feel the heat of her cheeks, burning hot. "Youyang, what are you doing? This is on a swing..."

"I want to be on the swing. We've never done this here. I need to make sure this isn't a dream." I eagerly tore off a small piece of fabric from under her skirt, pushing it up, then the zipper of my jeans. My burning heat hurriedly invaded her dry passage...

"Mmm...it hurts..." She gripped my shoulders tightly, but I couldn't wait any longer. I swung the swing forcefully, using its momentum to thrust hard into her.

This time, it wasn't a dream, was it? I could feel her fearfully clinging to me, her legs tightly wrapped around my waist, afraid of falling. This tense fear caused her burning passage to spasm and contract, gripping my hardness tightly.

If I were to die like this, I would accept it, my Jingzhi…

Afterwards, I carried her back to the room, got into bed, and she whimpered and hugged me tightly: “No… Youyang, don’t do this, you’ll die if this continues.” I could hear the madness in her voice: “Please, let’s abstain from sex for a day tomorrow, okay?”

“Why?” I asked her softly.

“I’m afraid, if this continues, either you die or I die…” She bit my ear: “We, let’s go to the city tomorrow, have a big meal, go shopping, there are many things we haven’t done together, we can prove this isn’t a dream in other ways…”

“Hmm… that suggestion seems pretty good…” I nibbled on her earlobe: “Then let’s make tomorrow’s portion today.”

Then all I could hear were her screams… and her panting.

This was actually our second night, the third night, since she suggested a day of abstinence, then let’s just ignore the third night… maybe I’ll sleepless until dawn.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Today is Qixi Festival, and the Olympics are the day after tomorrow. I'm writing this chapter to wish everyone a happy Qixi Festival, and may all your husbands be as stamina-enhancing as Xiao You (chuckles...). heathen2000 commented that sometimes he feels Xiao You is like a horse. Hua Hua is here to defend him. Xiao You has been abstinent for five years, so what's wrong with being a horse? The next chapter will be about Lao You and Lan'er...

Extra Chapter 6:

My surname is Wu, my given name is Wu Lan, and my nickname is Lan'er...

I chose this name because orchids are abundant along the Mekong River. In Myanmar, if you want to grow something that's profitable and legal, then grow flowers!

Of course, I'm talking about orchids. If you grow poppies, you might not necessarily get rich, but you'd definitely be breaking the law.

My family has a large orchid plantation and a rose plantation along the Mekong River. We are a prosperous Chinese family in Myanmar.

My grandfather was an officer in the Kuomintang Expeditionary Force, and my grandmother was the daughter of a local chieftain. It is said that my grandmother's family also migrated from China in the early Qing Dynasty.

Some even say my grandmother's family has Ming Dynasty imperial blood, having fled to avoid dynastic change.

However, those stories of my grandmother's ancestors are just legends, impossible to verify.

During World War II, the Japanese blockaded all ports along China's coast. To obtain international aid, they opened a supply line along the Burma Road in the southwest. To protect this only lifeline at the time, a massive army was deployed to guard this transportation route—this is the origin of the Expeditionary Force.

My grandfather served as a division adjutant in the Kuomintang army. At a young age, he went to Burma to fight the Japanese with the army to save his country.

After the victory of the War of Resistance against Japan, my grandfather's Expeditionary Force was recalled to China to fight in the civil war, but many veterans did not return. They felt that while they could shed blood for the Japanese invaders, they could not bear to kill their own brothers. So many remained in Burma.

Later, after the Kuomintang's defeat and retreat to Taiwan, these veterans were branded as deserters. On the mainland, they did not receive the respect they deserved.

In Myanmar, these expeditionary soldiers were unable to obtain citizenship or leave, forced to live like refugees in settlements for half a century.

To gain legal citizenship, my grandfather married my grandmother, a daughter of a chieftain, and then my father was born…

When I was born, my grandfather insisted on teaching me Chinese, giving me a Han Chinese name, and having me read classic Chinese literature. He told me, “Lan’er, you are Chinese.”

I am Chinese?

But I had never actually met a Chinese person until I met him…

You Shiqun! Could he be the Chinese person my grandfather was talking about?

Because of my grandfather's insistence that I learn Chinese, when he met a genuine Chinese man—You Shiqun—he happily brought him home.

Like my grandfather, he had been a soldier.

But he was different from my grandfather; he puzzled me…

My grandfather was an old soldier who was always immersed in the past. If it weren't for my father's business acumen in growing flowers to make money, my grandfather might have let his family go hungry because of his stubborn adherence to military honor. But You Shiqun was different.

You Shiqun possessed a natural business acumen; his keen sense of money was unmatched.

“Lan’er, my wife,” he whispered in my ear, pulling me close, “I will pack the world as a gift and place it before you.”

“I don’t want the world, I only want you,” I hugged his waist tightly, “I want to be your wife, to bear your children, our children.”

I could feel his body stiffen at my words, then he chuckled softly, “Okay…we will definitely have our own children.”

Life after marriage was blissful. Happiness is alike, isn’t it? He doted on me, loved me, respected me…we traveled the world together. These busy schedules didn’t interfere with his business; on the contrary, he perfectly balanced business and leisure.

Rome, London, New York, Paris, Cairo, the Caribbean…we made time to visit every place we could think of.

We once followed in the footsteps of the writer Sanmao, to the Sahara Desert. He held me as we rode on a tall camel, crossing that sea of death.

The scorching sun baked our fragile lives. “Lan’er…I feel that in our past lives…we were two travelers dying of thirst in this desert,” he murmured, wrapping me tightly in his Arabian robe.

“Or, in a past life, we were two star-crossed lovers.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“Otherwise, why would I love you so much? Why would I fall in love with you at first sight? Why would I want to hold you tightly in my arms in this life, and die with you?”

“You’re so cheeky,” I said shyly, burying my face in his shoulder. “How many people have you said these things to? Confess.”

“Only you, only you…”

I knew You Shiqun loved me, and I loved him too, but… we had been married for three years, but we still didn’t have a child.

By then, we had settled in Shenzhen, China. With his exceptional business acumen, he had keenly sensed that this city was about to rise like one of the Four Asian Tigers.

We had made the right choice, but the child still wouldn’t come, until You Yang arrived.

“From now on, You Yang is our child.” When You Shiqun handed me the doll-like child, my heart sank. This child… looked just like him, only three years old, and we had been married for three years.

I stared blankly down at the bright little child. He was beautiful, but filthy, like a little mud monkey.

"This is your child? Is it?" My question lingered on my lips for a while, then I swallowed it back. Those features so similar to his—how could I be wrong?

As if sensing my doubt, he hugged me. "What are you thinking? It's a friend's child. His business was in trouble, he couldn't raise him anymore, so I brought him home. He can keep you company, too, right?"

I remained silent. The child was indeed adorable. Even if he was his, so what? Was he afraid I'd be angry or hurt?

Actually, in Myanmar, my grandfather had several wives. Men, especially successful men, having multiple lovers is normal.

But these comforting words were just self-deception. I was jealous, I admit I was insanely jealous. Not jealous of the woman who bore him a child, but jealous that it wasn't me.

I secretly went to the hospital for a checkup, but was told my uterus was a little small, which could lead to infertility or a higher risk of miscarriage. There's no good treatment right now; it's a problem with my uterus's development.

Is this my fate? We've been together every night for three years, yet I can't conceive?

I don't dare tell him; I'm afraid he'll worry and might choose to use contraception carefully. If that happens, I won't have a chance to become a mother.

You Yang is a lovely angel. Maybe God knew I wouldn't have my own child, so He sent this lovely angel to me?

Every day, I hold this tiny child, truly mine, and unconsciously imagine that he's the flesh and blood I carried for ten months and gave birth to.

"Congratulations, you're pregnant," the doctor told me the diagnosis calmly.

"I'm pregnant?" I sat silently in the chair, raising my hand to my lower abdomen. Haha, I had already given up hope, but unexpectedly… this child came so suddenly.

Just a few days ago, I found his test results in his drawer: low sperm count, very difficult to conceive.

I thought You Yang was an accident, otherwise he wouldn't have given that child's mother a large sum of money. I never expected that with my constitution, plus his low sperm count, I would still be pregnant?

What should I do? The doctor looked at me through his thick glasses: "It's a miracle you got pregnant. This fetus is very easy to miscarry; you should choose to terminate the pregnancy."

"No!" I said firmly, "I want this child."

He had just gone to America a month ago, and I didn't want to tell him I was pregnant. I wanted to determine if the baby could be saved.

The doctor recommended a specialist in this field in England, so I went there. I was determined to have a healthy baby, for myself and for him.

"This child cannot be kept," the British doctor said, looking at me in surprise. "Madam, don't you know you have a latent congenital heart condition? Pregnancy will suddenly increase the burden on your heart, and the later it gets, the more likely you are to experience heart failure."

"Then, is there any way to save this child?" I was almost desperate. If he knew, he definitely wouldn't allow me to have this child.

"Start hospitalization now, and then pray to God." The doctor was quite humorous, but I couldn't laugh.

It seemed that Western medicine was hopeless. I went home, found a traditional Chinese medicine doctor, and started brewing and drinking medicine to stabilize the pregnancy, slowly adjusting my condition.

The baby was developing so slowly in my belly. I saw worry in the doctor's eyes as he took my pulse.

"Does your husband know you're pregnant?" the doctor asked anxiously. "We generally can't allow this kind of dangerous situation to happen. It would be very dangerous for you to continue this pregnancy."

"Give me some medication to prevent miscarriage." I seemed not to hear him.

"Do you have any family members with you?"

"Give me some medication to prevent miscarriage, doctor." I kept repeating the same thing...

Four months, four months of pregnancy, and the baby hadn't grown much. The doctor looked at me helplessly: "This baby shows signs of stopping development."

No, how could this baby stop developing? He's just very quiet in my belly. He's a baby who doesn't like to move. He doesn't move at all for many days. Sometimes... I frantically think he's stillborn.

You Shiqun returned from the United States and saw his wife with a slightly protruding belly.

I was pregnant, I told him.

His expression didn't change: "How many months?"

"Four months," I said.

"Oh..." he replied softly, then said casually, "I'll go with you to your prenatal checkup sometime."

"No need! I just went." My sharp tone made his eyebrows furrow in suspicion, and then he murmured, "You say you don't want it, so you don't."

I was afraid he'd find out the results of my prenatal checkup, afraid he'd force me to have an abortion, so when he asked which hospital I'd had it at, I didn't answer. He was unhappy, I could tell, but I ignored him.

But over the next month, his expression grew increasingly gloomy.

Then he asked a question I'd never expected—whose child was it?

"Whose child is it?" He pressed me down on the bed, his voice hoarse as he asked me. He raised his hand as if to hit me, then hesitated and lowered it.

I laughed. So… in his heart, I was so worthless…

In his eyes, my actions of going for prenatal checkups without his knowledge, my visits to the traditional Chinese medicine doctor without his knowledge, were all signs of guilt.

Fortunately… fortunately, the baby is healthy. I held the test results, feeling quite relieved. I showed him the results: "Look, this is the prenatal report, the baby is healthy."

"Bullshit!" he suddenly cursed in a low voice, reaching out to grab my chin: "Do you think I'm stupid? I have low sperm count, I can't get pregnant at all…"

"No… how could that be? Isn't there You Yang?" I stared blankly at him.

"You Yang…" he suddenly asked me in a low voice: "Do you remember Han Cheng?"

Han Cheng, I remember him, the man who appeared at our wedding, tall and thin, his features somewhat resembling You Shiqun's. He seemed to have come with a girl at the time.

“You Yang is Han Cheng’s child with my ex-girlfriend. That woman used him as a substitute for me to comfort her

after her breakup. They didn’t want the baby, so they gave it to me.” You Shiqun’s facial muscles twitched. “Have you forgotten that after we got married, Han Cheng would come to see you every now and then? And after you adopted You Yang, he came even more often?”

I was stunned…

Now, the child in my belly was his only flesh and blood.

I listened blankly as he called the obstetrician to schedule a time…

“No! You can’t, you can’t take this child away!” I suddenly went crazy and tried to grab the phone. “You can’t, I want this child.”

Yes, even if he just wanted to give me a check-up, I wouldn’t want it, let alone the fact that he seemed to want to arrange an abortion for me?

“If you really want it, you can,” he slowly put down the phone, his expression inscrutable. “Send it away immediately after it’s born!”

“Okay!”

I knew his cold and ruthless nature. It was useless to say anything before the child was born. Once the child was born, blood tests and other tests would prove my innocence.

“I’ll ask you one more time, who is the father of the child?” Was there a tremor in his voice? “Tell me, if you say it, the baby can stay.”

“The baby is yours,” I said, looking into his eyes, but he flinched, avoiding my gaze. He let go of me: “Get out!” he said harshly, then stormed out of the room…

The long pregnancy that followed was spent alone, a cold war after a cold war. I didn’t know if this man really thought I would betray him. Had he… forgotten the days and nights we spent together?

Shiqun, Shiqun…

Every day I touched the baby in my belly, that tiny fetal movement was my last hope.

Pain… excruciating pain…

Aunt Wu temporarily acted as the midwife, and he stood blankly to the side watching me struggle to give birth. He held a bottle of strong liquor in his hand, his clothes were disheveled, and his gaze was unfocused…

He hadn’t slept for a week. Yes, he was waiting for me to give birth, to give birth to this child who had lingered in my belly for 12 months. These 12 months had made him, and me, begin to doubt how this child came to be.

No wonder he was suspicious. Calculating the ten months of pregnancy, he was away from home during the time I was pregnant. I smiled bitterly, sweating profusely: "Lan'er, Lan'er, when did you learn asexual reproduction? Now, even if you had a mouth, you couldn't explain yourself."

"Tell me," his hand slid across my sweaty forehead, "Who is he? Tell me and I'll take you to the hospital. Tell me the child, and I'll treat him as my own, just like You Yang."

"The child...is yours..." I glared fiercely into his eyes, but he turned and left.

"Shiqun..." I cried out hoarsely, "Hold me, hold me..."

He sneered, then pushed open the door and left.

Giving birth to that child felt like half my life was gone. I didn't know when he took the child away; I just wanted to sleep...and not wake up.

"The child?" I asked blankly to Wu Ma, who was watching over me, after I woke up. "The child..."

Wu Ma was also stunned. "Mr. You said he'd send it away for a while and bring it back." Wu Ma patted my hand reassuringly.

But…

a day passed, two days passed, three days passed…

I never saw my child again, that tiny, bloodied baby. I still remember her cries, so strong.

“She’s a beautiful little girl…” I remember Wu Ma’s words in my ear, but… my daughter?

More than a month later, he finally appeared, his face still ashen.

“Where is my child?” I asked him quietly.

In that instant, I saw panic in his eyes: “Lan’er, don’t ask.”

I stared at him blankly: “You didn’t kill her, did you?”

“No, I just sent her away.” He pursed his lips tightly. Little Youyang slipped into the room through the crack in the door: “Mommy, little sister, I want a little sister.”

Then, the next moment, I saw him, his face ashen, carry the child out. At the door, he didn’t turn back: “Forget about that baby, Youyang… she will always be our child, just remember that.”

I didn’t speak.

Later, from the conversation between the servants who thought I was asleep, I slowly learned the whole story.

The child was given away, but the servant who did so absconded with the donation he had given to the orphanage, and the child was never actually sent there.

That season, the season I gave birth to our child, was winter… What chance did an abandoned baby, carelessly discarded, have?

Or… I struggled to give myself a glimmer of hope. I remembered placing the jade he had given me in the child's tiny hand when he was born, hoping that whoever found the child would know the jade's value and raise the child well.

That winter… was exceptionally cold… I quietly recuperated, gazing at the colorful snow falling outside the window. My child, if you were alive, where would you be?

He finally came to see me again, sitting by my bedside, gently stroking my hair, and softly comforting me: “Lan, I'm sorry, I intended to give that child away for a few days, but I brought her back. Now…” “

Mr. You

, I’ll be waiting for you at home tonight.” The secretary’s warm voice came through the receiver. "Okay," I hung up the phone and dialed the HR director's number: "Get me a new secretary tomorrow, 40 years old, married, with a harmonious family." My current secretary won't stay in his position for long, because I never allow my employees to bring their feelings for me into their work. How did I spend last night with this woman? I can't remember…

I slowly moved my gaze to the photo on the table, Lan'er… I softly murmured the name. I first met her in her orchid garden on the banks of the Mekong River. "Shiqun, Shiqun…" I could hear her laughter, and the soft voice calling my name in my ear: "Shiqun, I love you…"

I reached out, my hand trembling, and placed the photograph face down on the table. There was a gentle knock on the door. The woman who had just become my former secretary, her face streaked with tears, appeared: "Mr. You, why are you making me leave?" "Because... the secretary has a mistress. You can only choose one." My voice seemed excessively cold. She appeared not to understand, only staring coldly at me. The secretary has a mistress. You choose one. "Shiqun, I love you." She stared blankly at me. I leaned back, my expression unchanged: "The secretary has a mistress. You can only choose one." Shiqun... I love you...

So many women have said those words to me. I searched and searched, and every time I heard a woman say those words to me, I knew that voice wasn't yours. Yes, not your voice, not your body...

Waking up every day in a different woman's bed, it wasn't ecstasy, not enjoyment, it was numbness, wasn't it? Yes, it was numbness. I didn't want to go back to that bedroom where we used to lie together. Perhaps, lying on a beauty's lap was the best way to numb myself. At least, each time I could fall asleep exhausted, instead of staring blankly at the ceiling until dawn. Lan'er, after you left, I tried to forget your voice, your smile, your sorrowful expression, but it didn't seem to work. I didn't go to your room, I didn't look at your photos, but I couldn't stop thinking about you.

Jingzhi… this little woman carrying my grandson, this woman who, like you back then, moved clumsily with her belly, her pure and innocent smile reminded me of you… If he had met me before he met You Yang, would I have let go?

I don't know… That agreement drove him away, and it also took away the smile on You Yang's lips. This is something I never expected, this hateful, overly kind child… When will he mature? Does he always want me to stand behind him and support him? I saw his pain and struggle, just like my struggle after you left me, but different…

This child has a kind of mental fastidiousness? He never sought other women; he simply licked his wounds alone. His demeanor was so much like yours… Lan'er, my Lan'er. Countless times I've woken from dreams, drenched in cold sweat. I'm afraid, I'm terrified… I dreamt again of the child I abandoned.

Somewhere in this world, a child carries her blood. I must find her, I must find that girl. Jingzhi, the girl I drove away—all these years, I've never lost touch with her. She's far away in a foreign land; what hardships has she endured? Every month, I receive a report. I watched her slowly grow, transforming from a shy, naive girl into a gentle, confident one. Was I waiting for her to grow up?

She finally returned. It seems I can get to know her again. The world is truly strange. When I held that investigation report, it turned out that the girl I abandoned all those years ago was actually Jingzhi… I admit, I'm not a man bound by worldly conventions. If I love a woman, I won't care if she's the mother of my grandson. But, but… the truth of it all was completely unexpected. Isn't it laughable?

The woman I schemed so hard to possess…—the child Lan'er bore all those years ago—is actually my own child. Is this just retribution? Retribution for my years of infidelity, retribution for not trusting my beloved wife, retribution… As I lie in my hospital bed, recalling my “glorious” life, it seems only the years spent starting my business, the busy work, and my love for Lan'er could barely be considered happiness.

Later, when Lan'er died, I was dead. That's what I always thought, but then, my daughter… I never imagined I'd have a daughter. I always thought that You Yang would be our child, but this daughter who fell from the sky disrupted everything. From now on, I have a daughter, and I also have a son—a son-in-law is like a son-in-law, after all. As for You Yu, he's my adorable grandson. As I held Squid's hand, watching the plane carrying You Yang and Jingzhi fly further and further away, the little child's hand in my grasp began to wriggle impatiently: "Grandpa, Grandpa, Mom asked me my full name before she left." Squid blinked his big eyes at me: "

I told her my full name was given to me by Grandpa. When they come back, can I tell them my name?" I lowered my head, Squid's big eyes sparkling brightly. This child was quite obedient. "Does Squid remember his name?" I asked him softly. Squid stuck out his tongue: "Grandpa, I forgot." "You Jingyang," I said, "Your name is You Jingyang."

I

had a dream, a dream of the warm Italian sunshine, the shimmering waters of Venice, the weathered frescoes of Pompeii… Many years ago, I fled to that sun-drenched country, wounded and scarred. Unfamiliar language, unfamiliar environment, unfamiliar people… it seemed that what I truly needed was this kind of unfamiliarity. "Be careful, Jingzhi.

" Ding Lei's warm voice came through the overseas phone call: "There are so many handsome men to feast your eyes on over there, and the Sicilian Mafia too. Be careful not to let your eyes be blinded by their good looks."

"Haha, senior sister, are you kidding me? Watched too many romantic movies?" I leaned against the glass wall of the phone booth, almost doubled over with laughter. "Hmm? No way! Remember Roman Holiday? Maybe you'll meet a down-on-his-luck prince from some small European country." Ding Lei's cheerful voice was still on the other end of the line.

"Oh, I can't talk to you anymore." I checked my watch and realized I was running out of time for class. I hurriedly hung up the phone. The teaching building of the college for international students was just across the street. If I rushed across the street, I might still make it into the classroom before Mr. Records entered. But... just as I ran into the corridor of the teaching building, bang! I bumped right into someone walking towards me, knocking over a large stack of books that person was carrying. I looked up and gazed into the depths of a pair of eyes as deep as the finest emeralds.

Patrick, an archaeology professor, thirty-three, with brown hair and blue eyes, stood six feet three inches tall. His pearly white teeth contrasted beautifully with his sun-tanned, tanned skin, and his aristocratic, perfectly proportioned face was as stylish as a model in an Italian advertisement. These were the gossips I'd heard from other international students during my first few months at the university. This Professor Patrick, it was said, had aristocratic lineage and even owned a castle.

I stood there, stunned. Oh no, I'd bumped into the charming professor everyone was talking about! What was I going to do? "I'm so sorry, so sorry," I quickly apologized in English as I crouched down to pick up the books scattered on the floor. "It's alright," came a fluent English reply: "I'll take care of it." Our hands simultaneously reached for a thick dictionary, then withdrew at the same time. I looked up, and he was smiling at me, a smile with a hint of seduction.

"Are you going to class? What class?" he asked, still trying to charm me. I chuckled. Having been here for several months, I'd found that these handsome Italian men were all incredibly charming, like Casanovas. It was best to avoid them. I picked up the last book in my book, "Ancient Roman History," and placed it on top of his. "Sorry, I'm going to be late."

"Okay," he smiled again. "Be careful, don't fall again."

"Thanks!" I clutched my book tightly, waved goodbye, and hurried up the stairs. When I reached the top, I saw him still standing there, looking up at me with a smile. That smile was simply bewitching… After class, he waited for me outside the classroom. "Hi, wanna go to the cafeteria for lunch together?" I hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

Why not? After all, meeting strangers in this unfamiliar country might help me gradually let go of all my anxieties. In Italy, I experienced the passion of the Latins—yes, Italian men have always enjoyed the reputation of being "Latin lovers." Initially, when I was wandering the streets of Rome alone, searching for beautiful historical sites, I was approached by Italian men countless times.

Unfortunately, at the time, I was like a frightened bird, fleeing in terror. Only after I got to know Patrick did I realize that being approached was actually a compliment to a beautiful woman. "Of course, it might be better if you had a male companion," Patrick smiled, placing my arm in his crook. "It's my honor to accompany a beautiful woman." Patrick, handsome Italian, will you be my savior?

After spending more time with him, I discovered that this man was indeed very charming. His hair was smooth with a slight natural curl, and when he smiled, his hazel-green eyes narrowed slightly. His gaze seemed somewhat distant, but not unapproachable. I don't know if this counts as dating, but he would always appear at the right time after my classes. He never asked about my schedule, yet he knew exactly when I had classes.

I also went to his classroom to listen to his lectures when I didn't have classes. Contrary to his sunny appearance, he was a very rigorous scholar when lecturing, wearing rimless gold-rimmed glasses. In the dimly lit classroom, he showed his students slides of murals from Pompeii in ancient Rome. His voice was low and magnetic. And, of course, he was single; whether he had a girlfriend was unknown. However, considering that 75% of the students in his courses were female, he was probably single.

I fell in love with listening to his lectures and found that this man with his rimless gold-rimmed glasses possessed a lot of depth. Her hair was brown, but within that deep brown were many subtle shades, ranging from light to dark, like rough, unrefined raw gold gravel, with a few brilliant touches of pure gold.

He would very gentlemanly pull out a chair for me during meals, and he would personally prepare an authentic Italian pizza for me. He would listen attentively to my still somewhat clumsy Italian, and then we would fill in the gaps in our English. His eyes weren't the pure emerald green they were when we first met. To be precise, when he was happy, the green was purer; when he was unhappy or lost in thought, a hint of bright blue would appear within that green, like a deep, dark pool, profound yet cold.

Especially when our eyes met by chance, his pupils would become a deep green mixed with gold, blue, and gray, transforming into a dazzling rainbow… That gaze was truly breathtaking. And then there's his truly impressive physique—tall, well-proportioned, and muscular, like Michelangelo's David, with a profound and slightly melancholic air.

The longer I spent with him, the more I discovered his irresistible charm. Of course, this wasn't the kind of beauty that would make you instantly infatuated. Rather… how to put it… it was a natural, innate spiritual charm. I felt like I was doomed. I called Ding Lei and we talked all night. Ding Lei joked, "Since you feel like you're doomed, just close your eyes and let yourself fall for him. Maybe he really will be your salvation." Could he? Would he be my salvation?

His gaze grew deeper and deeper as he stared at me. Finally, one day, he invited me to visit his hometown. Verona, an ancient city nestled at the foot of the Alps, founded in the first century AD, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. And oh, I finally learned that the legend of the "Latin Lover" isn't entirely mythical. For example, Romeo from Shakespeare's play actually shared a hometown with Patrick.

To be precise, Patrick's family castle is located in a small town near the corner of Verona. The castle belonged to his great-great-great-grandfather, and his family had thrived on that beautiful land for centuries. Patrick's family is a typical large family; parents, brothers, sisters, and the friendly townspeople are all friends. Even… the rose window of the exquisite medieval chapel in town is inscribed with the names of his ancestors' contributions.

Patrick always teased me about my inability to accept his family's enthusiasm towards me. Indeed, the Italian concept of family is quite similar to the traditional Chinese extended family; they have a strong sense of family. Perhaps this is the origin of the "Godfather family"? Patrick and Romeo were from the same hometown, or perhaps his family also had Romeo's bloodline? When I asked him this, he laughed heartily, then took my hand, gazing at me tenderly: "If I said yes, would it be easier to win your heart?" I smiled too… Is it him?

Will he be my salvation? "Marry me!" "His gaze was filled with the warmth of the sun and the heat of passion. His kiss, though still palpable and gentle, revealed a depth of feeling. I knew that even a single glance from me could ignite a fire that would consume us entirely. I looked up into his eyes and smiled slowly. 'Give me time, give me time, please? I've been in Italy for over four years, but we've only known each other for a short time.'

'Romeo knew Juliet even less. Time is no excuse.'

'I…'

'Alright, I'll give you time.' He smiled, giving me one night to consider. One night? At the evening banquet, his sister arrived from Venice with her son. The little boy had bright black eyes and curly black hair, as beautiful as a cherub from Raphael's paintings. 'We're getting married,' Trico announced with the confidence and pride of a Latin man. 'We're just waiting to announce our marriage in the church.'" "

Wait..." I could hardly believe my ears. What was he saying? "You love me, Jingzhi..." He looked into my eyes. "The marriage announcement will be made three times. If no one objects during this time, we will exchange wedding vows in front of the priest. I am Catholic, and Catholicism does not allow divorce. So, believe me, I will be a good husband." "His family seemed overjoyed with the news; everyone offered their blessings, Patrick… Do you know what kind of woman you've fallen for?

She only saw you as a salvation; her heart is broken. Is a woman with a broken heart truly worthy of your whole heart? I was terrified. I retreated further and further, then turned and ran for my life. The night was as still as water… In the cemetery behind the chapel, the pure white marble was carved with the shapes of every soul that had slept there for centuries. I could hear the contented murmurs of those souls sleeping peacefully together… I wandered among the tombstones, my heart strangely calm. I closed my eyes, and before me appeared the image of the little boy in Patrick's little sister's arms—a five-year-old boy, an angelic child… My son…

I have no right to be loved. I knelt before those white tombstones, weeping bitterly… A new mother who abandoned her own son has no right to happiness. I'm sorry, Patrick, you deserve someone better, someone who…" The lover I'll spend a hundred years with. And that woman, it's not me, it's not me… Yes, like a coward, I ran away… Holding the letter Xue Ran gave me, I bought a plane ticket back home. Clutching the contract that sold my child, I must find my child, my flesh and blood, my redemption…

Squid's Ramblings (Final Chapter)

I am Squid. My grandfather told me my name is You Jingyang. Actually, I know the name You Jingyang because of the wisdom of all the older sisters and aunties reading this story. Otherwise, with the intelligence of my little stepmother, Hua Hua, she couldn't have come up with this… What a lovely name! Back then, as the undisputed protagonist of this story, I was almost about to make my appearance, but my stepmother, Hua Hua, still hadn't given me a proper, memorable name. In the end, she just gave me the nickname "Squid," which was truly pathetic. Fortunately, I quite like the name You Jingyang in the end, hehe. Hua Hua's stepmother has written extra chapters for everyone except Squid, because Squid wants to write this extra chapter from her own unique perspective! But how should she write it? Let's start from when Squid first learned about her mother…

"Squid...you must remember, this photo is of your mother, and this photo is of your father..." Grandpa patiently arranged the photos all over my little desk. To be honest, I didn't know the difference between the photos, but when Grandpa asked who was who, I would get a chocolate prize if I got it right! Finally, one day, my father appeared in front of me. He must love me, right?

Otherwise, why wouldn't he have hugged me and cried? I remember the next day, Dad took me to a beautiful photo studio early in the morning and told me to wait for him at the door, just a little while...but bad Dad turned around and disappeared. I waited and waited, and what appeared was Mom! Hmm, I recognize Mom because Grandpa shows me her photos every day. Mom, Mom...I really wanted to rush over and grab Mom, but...Mom said he was my aunt?

"Doesn't Mom recognize me?" "No way! Squid is so cute, how could Mom not want me?" Later I learned that many, many years ago, after giving birth to Squid, Mom never saw me again. No wonder! I don't understand the adult world. I'm just curious why Mom and Dad yell at each other so much when they're together. And when they're not yelling, Dad hugs and kisses Mom nonstop… I really don't understand the adult world.

Actually, since Mom returned to Squid's life, Squid feels the happiest thing is that Mom and Dad can hold Squid's hand on either side and walk around, just like other children's parents. And also, our family of three finally took wedding photos after overcoming many difficulties. Other families take photos with just the two of them, but in our family, I'm sandwiched in the middle. Mom says I'm like the cream filling in a sandwich, hehe…

As for Mom and Dad's married life, as a child, I automatically ignored many details. Besides, Mom and Dad's room is always locked, so I can't do a live stream! After Mom and Dad returned to Squid's life, with the addition of Grandma and Uncle, Squid received even more love and attention. However, it seemed there was some unpleasantness between Uncle and Dad; they almost never spoke to each other when they met. One hot day, Uncle came to Dad to discuss some building design plans, but since Mom and Dad weren't home, I naturally grabbed him to play with me—hide-and-seek. "Squid, be good. Uncle is very busy and doesn't have time to play with you."

Uncle Xue Ran is such a strange person. He clearly likes me a lot, so why doesn't he want to play with me? "No, no, Uncle, just once!" I tugged at his sleeve, looking up at him pitifully. Perhaps my expression was pitiful enough, finally evoking the sympathy of this cold-faced handsome young man. "Okay, okay." Uncle smiled and ruffled my messy hair, tossing aside the plans he was holding: "Go hide!"

"Wow, okay!" While Uncle counted, I ran as fast as I could towards Dad's study. Haha, wasn't I clever? The rules of hide-and-seek are that you have to hide in a room between the first and second floors. The third floor is a bedroom, so you can't hide there. On the second floor, only Dad's study is big enough, and my uncle doesn't like Dad, so he definitely won't go there. Where should I hide?

Behind the curtains, I guess. My uncle counted to thirty and started looking for me… but I waited and waited, and he still didn't appear. Did my uncle really not want to come to Dad's study? Hiding behind the curtains, I was tired, hungry, and extremely impatient… Waaah… That hateful uncle, what's wrong with him? Playing tricks on me… I'm so hungry… Just as I was hesitating whether to rush out and announce that my uncle lost, the study door opened, and through the gap in the curtains, I could see my uncle come in.

There was a family photo of the three of us in the study. He stood in front of the photo, staring at it for a long time, his expression strange. Strange, why isn't my uncle looking for me? I hid so well… My uncle wandered around the study, seemingly lost in thought, and didn't appear to notice me. He looked like he was about to leave. Oh dear, that silly uncle!

Sitting behind the curtains, I finally snapped and threw a thick folder from under my bottom. It landed with a thud at his feet, scattering its contents everywhere. He's about to find me, isn't he? I smiled smugly… Why did I want my uncle to find me? Because if he won, he'd take me for ice cream at noon; if he lost, maybe there wouldn't be any. My uncle bent down, picking up the scattered documents, and then his expression turned to shock.

“Uncle! I'm here!” I finally surrendered. If this slow-witted uncle really had found me, at least he'd notice me if I called out, right? But no, my uncle didn't hear me at all… He knelt on the spot, examining the documents again and again, his expression one of utter disbelief. Huh? What's wrong with my uncle?

Xue

Ran stared in astonishment at the pile of documents on the ground. They were all records of Jingzhi's time in Italy? From the moment she entered the country until her return… Who collected all this information? Besides You Yang, who else could it be? He had always refused to admit that this man loved his sister, but… he couldn't imagine that You Yang, this man he had always considered selfish and cold-blooded, would have known his sister's whereabouts all along.

He knew everything about her in Italy: how she was approached by handsome Italian men; how she was forcibly kissed by a bald, handsome man at the school dance; how she danced in Patrick's arms, her face slightly upturned, her focused gaze filled with admiration, and a hint of attraction?

She held a little Italian boy in her arms, her expression like that of the compassionate Virgin Mary cradling the infant Jesus. You Yang, how could he let her bloom alone in a foreign land? Xue Ran shook his head. If he were in You Yang's shoes, would he have let her go for five years? The answer was no!

But why? Why did he spend five whole years silently watching her from the furthest distance, knowing her whereabouts at all times, yet never appearing or contacting her? To be precise, those five years Jingzhi was away were five years of complete detachment from her past life… In fact, Xue Ran had never known Jingzhi's life during those five years so clearly. Wasn't

this man selfish and cold-blooded? Why did he possess so much information about his sister but not try to bring her back? Could it be…? Could it be…? The door opened gently, then closed again. Xue Ran looked up, swaying as he stood up, his gaze almost meeting You Yang's: “Why, why did you do this? For the past five years, why did you pretend you knew nothing? How could you just do this?”

“Xue Ran, have you ever loved a woman?” You Yang’s gaze was calm: “If you had truly loved a woman, you would know. For five years, I knew about her every moment, I thought about her every moment… but…” You Yang slowly lowered his head, a bitter smile appearing on his lips: “The right to choose was hers, wasn’t it? I kept enduring, not wanting her to see my existence, but in the end, I couldn’t hold back…”

“The building’s planning, you contacted my firm, did you design all of this beforehand?”

“Yes…” You Yang slowly stared into his eyes: “However, believe me, if your qualifications weren’t up to the task of building for the You Group, I wouldn’t have used you. I have plenty of ways to bring her back.”

"But why did you use the most hurtful method?" Xue Ran clenched his fist. "You could have stood there quietly for so many years. You could have used romantic pursuit instead of barbaric plunder. Why did you have to mess things up after enduring for so long?"

"Did I?" Someone tugged at his sleeve. You Yang blinked in confusion, then looked down at Squid—his son—who had appeared beside him at some point.

Now it was You Yang desperately tugging at his sleeve. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Daddy," Squid looked up, his eyes filled with tears of grievance. "Why can't you see me? I've been hiding behind the curtains the whole time..." "Good boy," You Yang bent down and picked him up. "Uncle and I were talking about something."

"Talking about something?" I blinked in confusion and turned to look at my uncle. "Uncle, have you forgotten that you were playing hide-and-seek with Squid?"

"Oh..." My uncle's face turned bright red. He really had forgotten. "Alright," Dad patted my bottom, "Go to the kitchen and find Mom, see what we're having for lunch." Hearing about food, I perked up! Right, I'd completely forgotten I ran out because I was hungry. Kitchen, here I come!

I quickly ran out of the study, when suddenly there was a loud bang behind me. I ignored it; Mom's cake was what I cared about most right now. At lunchtime, Uncle stayed behind. Both he and Dad had unexpected bruises on their faces. Dad's lip was swollen, making it impossible for him to drink soup. Uncle's eye was swollen, making him look like my favorite panda plushie… "The teacher said good kids don't fight!"

I looked at them both seriously and announced this. My father and uncle, who had been giving each other the cold shoulder and barely acknowledging each other, suddenly burst into laughter upon hearing my words. They had a good fight, and now they were actually friends? I was starting to wonder about the truth of the saying "good kids don't fight": "Is it really that funny? Adults are so strange. They won't let our kids fight, but they themselves seem to enjoy it..." My father, after drinking, patted each other on the shoulder, laughing even harder.

The adult world is really complicated. Why are they so happy even after being beaten black and blue? However, from then on, I truly became good friends with my father.

(Holiday bonus chapter)

One morning, Jingzhi woke up to find a hot body pressed against her back. Huh? Turning around, she saw it was her father, You Yang, who had returned from a conference in London. This You Yang… still like a child, coming home without a word after landing, just grabbing her blanket and sleeping so soundly, clearly exhausted. She sighed contentedly, turned around, and let the half-asleep You Yang pull her into his arms. "Hehe..." she chuckled softly, burying her face in his neck. You Yang, still half-asleep, hugged Jingzhi tighter: "Silly girl, what are you laughing at?"

"Dreaming..." Jingzhi still laughed. You Yang grumbled, "Oh? What are you doing? Laughing like a cat that's stolen cream." His nose lingered on the neckline of her dress... greedily inhaling her faint, rich fragrance. He lifted the hem of her loose nightgown, and his restless hands were already caressing the back of her neck. "That!" Jingzhi calmly slapped away his hands. She rolled over, freeing herself from his embrace, and turned back with a smile, her eyes alluring: "Want to hear what I dreamt about?"

"Want to hear..." You Yang's attitude was quite good; he chuckled, hands behind his head, gazing at her leisurely. Little Jingzhi didn't know that from his angle, her slender waist and beautiful breasts were fully exposed. "I dreamt we went back to ancient times." Jingzhi pursed her lips, smiling smugly at You Yang: "I'm the poor little white rabbit heroine, and you..."

"I'm the wicked playboy?" You Yang's originally cold lips curled slightly, revealing a knowing smile. Indeed, he was now impeccably dressed, but his tie was half-undone, his beard unshaven, giving him a slightly decadent air. By today's popular standards of beauty, one had to admit You Yang had a handsome face, but his lips were too thin, supposedly a sign of coldness. But could a cold-hearted person have such a passionate side as him? Therefore, Jingzhi had reservations about this view. Hearing You Yang's answer, Jingzhi bit her lip, frowning in surprise: "How did you know you were a despicable playboy in my dream?"

"Hmph... what else could I be besides that role?" You Yang's eyes narrowed into slits: "What did I say to you in the dream?" Jingzhi smiled, just waiting for him to ask that. "What did I say? Wasn't it the same old thing? In the dream, you were dressed as a spendthrift, all in silk and satin, and the painting on your folding fan was an authentic work by Tang Bohu."

"Wow, so rich?"

"Yeah, you even flirted with me," Jingzhi proudly pouted her little nose, giving a disdainful snort, her contempt genuine. "How did you flirt?" You Yang got excited, flipping her over and pinning her down. He lifted Jingzhi's chin with one finger: "Come on. Little girl, give this grandpa a smile." Jingzhi was happy too, so she cooperated by lowering her eyes and blinking: "Grandpa, let this little lady sing you a song." "Hmm... what should I say?" "

You Yang released her, and Jingzhi struggled to get up, retreating further on the bed, a smile already playing on her lips: 'This little lady will sing you a song called "Lust is the Root of All Evil"!' Upon hearing this, You Yang's face flushed red. He fiercely pounced on her like a big bad wolf, tickling her: 'Little girl, what are you saying?'

'Hahaha... No, please, spare me...' Jingzhi gasped for breath from his tickling. 'I give up, I surrender.'

'Really surrendered?' You Yang pursed his lips dangerously: 'Then how do you show your sincerity?' 'It's up to you, it's up to you...'

'Really up to me?'" "You Yang's voice suddenly turned hoarse, his gaze seeming to want to peel her skin alive. Jingzhi licked her lips; they hadn't seen each other for almost a month, and even he, with his gaze, aroused her desire. For a moment, only their rapid breathing filled the room.

It really felt like a long time," Jingzhi sighed, feeling his hand easily arouse her sensitive reaction. She was only wearing a light nightgown, while he was still wearing a full Italian bespoke suit; this stark contrast seemed to be a stimulation in itself. "Hmm?" "No, you're so dirty, you haven't showered yet," Jingzhi turned her head away, panting softly as she tried to escape him. "Okay," You Yang buried his face in hers, "Then shower with me..."

"Ugh...no way..." But her soft moans couldn't stop him from carrying her away to the bathroom. Desire made all his senses incredibly sensitive; she felt her breasts and crotch become extremely sensitive at that moment, and he felt the same way... "Jingzhi, next time we go to a meeting, let's go together..." A melodious moan reached her ears through the splashing water.

Jingzhi's fingers gripped her shoulders tightly, his hands taut. His expensive suit was carelessly tossed on the bathroom floor. He held her naked body tightly, and in the large, warm bathtub, he slowly entered her. Everything was beautiful because of the waiting. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," he sighed. "No...lust is the root of all evil!" Jingzhi bit his shoulder, hard...leaving a small tooth mark on his shoulder: "This is my advice to you..."

"Okay, then help me shower." You Yang took her hand and placed it on his half-undone shirt: "Help me take off my clothes."

Jingzhi blushed and helped him unbutton his shirt, and then... oh my god... his trousers were only half-zipped up... how could this be... Jingzhi helped him change, and You Yang cooperated readily, lifting his arms and hips, but... Jingzhi blushed and dared not look at the parts of their bodies connected... Finally, he broke free from the constraints of obligation, pulled her tightly into his arms, pressed her under the showerhead, lifted her legs to wrap around his penis, and while forcefully penetrating her, handed her a bottle of shampoo: "Help me wash my hair..." The abundant foam slid down their tightly pressed bodies, and under the thirsty demands of his lips and hands, Jingzhi whispered hoarsely, "Let's go back to the room..."

“Okay…” You Yang murmured. On the large bed, You Yang placed her on the snow-white sheets, lowered his head, and kissed her tenderly. It was as if the brief lovemaking just now had relieved his thirst. This time, he decided to take it slow. “Oh, please…” Jingzhi became aroused by his deliberate teasing. Finally, she couldn’t help but reach out and touch his smooth, muscular shoulders and his stubble-covered chin. The rough touch intoxicated her: “Love me…”

“Hehe…” You Yang chuckled softly as if playing a prank: “Have you forgotten what you just said?”

“What? What did I say?” Jingzhi's eyes were alluring, her gaze unfocused.

"Of all evils, lust is the worst..." You Yang chuckled, suddenly pressing himself against her. Uncontrollable desire instantly overwhelmed them. His skin pressed tightly against hers, and she clung to his strong body, lightly covered in sweat, responding sensitively to his caresses and explorations. "Hmm, that's true, but the next line is even better—'Of all virtues, filial piety is the most important; of the three unfilial acts, the greatest is to have no offspring.'" Jingzhi teased him.

You Yang laughed too: "Isn't the latter part encouraging us to try for a baby? The ancients said, 'The greatest is to have no offspring.' Although we have Squid, since he's so grown up, it'll be time to give him a younger brother or sister, so he won't be spoiled like a little tyrant."

Before Jingzhi could answer, the door was slowly pushed open a crack. Fortunately, You Yang reacted quickly, immediately pulling a towel over to cover their private parts. "You Jingyang!" Two angry roars were followed by a triumphant giggle from outside the door: "Hahaha... Squid wants a little sister!" Then he turned and ran away.

On the verge of collapse, You Yang slumped against Jingzhi, muttering, "That unlucky kid, I...I...I wish I could boil him alive!" Yes, a few more such on-site observations, and the handsome You Yang would probably become impotent from his son's influence. "You Yang!" Jingzhi suddenly snapped back to reality. "Did you forget to lock the door again? I told you so..."

"Wife, it's just because I missed you so much!" You Yang breathed into her ear. "Ugh, so annoying..." Jingzhi rolled away from him. "How many times have I told you? Squid is at that curious age, don't forget to lock the door."

"Okay, okay..." You Yang hugged her from behind. "Then let's try our best to give Squid a little sister, so he can help take care of her and won't have time to bother us, okay?

...Anyway, the young couple is off to try and make a baby...

(The End)

URL 1:http://localhost:909/htmlBlog/14839.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=14839&aspx=1

Previous Page : Stealing Your Love [Complete] - 10

Next Page : The Divine Doctor Captures a Beauty [Complete] - 1

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Stealing Your Love [Complete] - Chapter 12

comment Open a new window to view comments