【Flowers in Full Bloom, Part 9 - A Rendezvous in Zhangjiajie】

I packed my bags, looked up at the warm, clear sky, and heard the occasional roar of airplanes cutting across the bustling city, as if

urging me on. The weather was neither too hot nor too cold, a season where stories could easily unfold. Looking at my wife, whose face was beaming with enthusiasm but

clearly feigning reluctance, I smiled slightly and said, "Take care of yourself."

We had planned to go on a trip to Zhangjiajie with a couple from Shanghai today, but unfortunately, something urgent

came up. We couldn't travel far. I considered canceling the trip, but the couple had already left, and I felt

it would be disrespectful. Besides, seeing her so eager and ready, I didn't want to dampen her

enthusiasm.

I trust this couple; we've known each other online for a year and have a good relationship. This trip together

wasn't explicitly stated, the most ambiguous thing being simply, "Let it happen naturally, just be happy."

My feelings are complicated—hope, worry, even a touch of jealousy. Is it because I'm not by her side

?

My wife gently kissed my face, which was filled with complex emotions, and smiled slightly. "Don't worry, I'll

contact . I'll follow your orders."

A simple, elegant dress billowed as she pulled into a taxi. I glanced at the calendar: June 20, 2007, 8:08 AM.

At 12:01 PM on June 20th, my wife called for the first time. She had arrived in Changsha.

The couple had arrived an hour earlier and had already booked two adjacent rooms. Her voice was a little excited: "The man from Shanghai

is even more refined than in the video—", "It feels so good to be in a strange city after being confined in one," "

Actually, the world is really small. It only takes an hour and a half to fly from Shanghai to Changsha."

When my wife wasn't around, she seemed very indifferent, sometimes even a little annoying. Now

, alone, I felt a little lonely, even a little homesick. Humans are strange.

I couldn't concentrate on work; her image filled my mind. Was she alright in that strange city? I felt a little

regretful.

Looking at the overcast sky, I felt incredibly stuffy. I turned on my computer to check out the couples' forum,

but

it was boring. Just as I was about to log off, a text message popped up: it was a couple from Hangzhou, their curtains fluttering in the wind. A certain feeling began to creep in. [As described in the previous text, they were a very nice couple; I had met them before, and their relationship was very pure.

] "Seeing you online, I said hello. What are you doing?"

I smiled helplessly to myself. To be honest, "She's in Changsha." The man from Hangzhou seemed a little excited: "I'm

actually there ! I've finished my business and am planning to go home."

I suddenly had a premonition that something unexpected was about to happen.

Hang Nan sent a funny face emoji, "You've met Di Mei and that couple, haven't you? After all, we're both

married right?"

He sent a contact number, then looked up again: the time was 2:30 PM on June 20th.

Before I knew it, the city lights were twinkling. Shanghai's night view was as beautiful as ever, the flickering lights feeling somewhat ambiguous.

In this noisy night, how many grudges and love affairs would unfold? In this age of overnutrition, how would

energetic men and women vent their excess emotions? I couldn't help but think again of the male's curves and the female's curves.

Lying in bed, a lonely figure, the noise outside, an unsettled heart, I fiddled with my phone, putting it

down again, unable to control myself. I dialed a few familiar numbers, but before they connected, I abruptly turned it off. What could I say?

"I'll walk you to the edge of the village. There's something I need to tell you. Even though the flowers are in full bloom, don't

pick the wildflowers by the roadside," the familiar ringtone startled me in the quiet, lonely night. My wife

was calling again.

I composed myself, patted my chest, lowered my voice, and feigned composure: "Was it fun? The joke I sent

was a little bittersweet: 'Did you miss me?'"

My wife's voice was clearly excited, but with a tired gentleness: "Hang Nan is here too. They

're watching TV, haha, they get along very well, like old friends."

My voice noticeably changed: "What other activities do you have planned for today?"

"Haha, what activities do you hope for? Do you want something to happen between us—" My wife's

voice even sounded a little seductive.

I remained silent for a moment, neither confirming nor denying: "Take care and get some rest."

Looking at the night sky, the flickering lights, I checked the calendar: June 20th, 8:18 PM.

I turned on the TV, flipping through channels, feeling bored. I opened the refrigerator, downed a bottle of beer, and found it a little

bitter. I decided to sleep: looking at the overhead light, five small lights outside, and hugging one large light, 6 I counted the lights

three times, without making a single mistake. Heh, a smile played on my lips, but I couldn't see my own smile.

An unusual silence enveloped me, and I suddenly felt a little out of place. What would I be doing at this time of day?

I should have already finished eating. And her? Perhaps she was taking a shower; I could hear the rustling

sounds from the bathroom. No, right now, she should be chatting with me, talking about how meat prices had gone up and how the stock market had crashed. She'd probably

be bragging about her foresight: "We sold our stocks yesterday, and we even had a little argument about it.

"

Nothing. The night remained as quiet as ever.

As time passed, memories of our past interactions and our long-term marriage kept resurfacing.

What I found most beautiful was her smile. I'd often joked, "I'm seduced by you, by your dimples and dimples

," the "dimples" referring to her shallow, round dimples that

adorned . I remember when we first met, I liked to hold her in my arms, lift her chin, and she would always smile, her dimples becoming

especially noticeable. A kiss on that hollow felt warm. Of course, my hands would eventually rest on her breasts, smoothing

them down before they rose again. The forest below, which was then a nature reserve, generally only allowed to be touched from the outside;

venturing deeper was strictly forbidden. Thinking about this brings a warm feeling.

In my dreams, her image remains—

the sunlight is gentle, streaming in through the window, creating a voyeuristic feeling. Thinking of that word, I think of my wife.

She liked to wear low-cut clothes; although her chest wasn't quite two high mountains, on her petite frame, it

was definitely a sight to behold. Her short stature, whether an advantage or disadvantage, when walking down the street, encountering lustful

men, would easily reveal the "mountains and valleys" beneath her low-cut dresses, creating a stifling, yet inexplicable, urge—

"Don't pick the wildflowers by the roadside—" The phone rang again. I remembered that usually, when she heard my phone

ring , she would always smile and reply, "Don't pick them, don't pick them," and then answer.

"Did you sleep well last night? Did you miss me a little—" She asked mischievously, her words sounding like she already knew the answer.

I didn't know if it was curiosity or worry, but I couldn't help but ask softly, "How was last night?"

Her laughter left me unsure whether to feel annoyed or happy. "Don't worry, honey, nothing

happened,"

she said in a low voice, her voice a little mysterious, "But I'll tell you a secret.

When we were shopping last night, Hang Nan secretly held my hand, and my heart was pounding. Hehe, it

felt a bit like first love—" A pang of jealousy welled up inside me. "This is the bottom line, don't cross it. Or, you can

go home now, I miss you a little—"

There was no sound from her—

feeling something was off, I said, "Go ahead, take care. Don't do anything rash without my permission."

Laughter broke the silence: "Hehe, you're jealous—okay, they're calling me, we're getting ready to go to Zhangjiajie."

The lights

shone brightly again. Dragging my weary body, I collapsed onto the bed. A busy day at work couldn't

hide my wandering thoughts. Was she alright out there?

Unable to control myself, I dialed those familiar numbers. It rang, but no answer. I dialed again, still no answer. Waiting was

torture.

The song of wildflowers rang out again, the voice, with a hint of seductive allure: "Honey, I didn't hear

your call. I put my phone in my bag. Why did you only call me now?"

In her heart, I was a magnanimous person. In our years together, we'd never pried too much into each other's lives.

We respected each other's personal space. We knew that without mutual trust, there was no love. Although sometimes

the darkness would still stir my imagination, at least our communication was always open.

My voice, controlled and calm, asked, "Did you have fun today?"

Her voice was as pleasant as ever: "We could have gone hiking, but we felt a bit tired,

so to conserve our energy, we rested in the city. The two gentlemen said that if you're going to have fun, you need to have enough time and

energy to really enjoy yourself."

"Conserve energy, enjoy yourself to the fullest"—my heart stirred again, a mix of excitement and worry.

I very good at controlling myself, but to be honest, at that moment, I was thinking a little out of line about those words that slipped out.

Deep down, a natural reason was at play: hiking requires stamina, especially for city

dwellers who rarely exercise.

With a racing heart, I checked the time: June 21st, 8:58 PM

. ------------------

Today's work was relatively relaxed. I quickly finished my morning tasks and came home. I knew: the house was still as quiet as ever these

past few days , but everywhere I looked, there were traces of her presence, and her warmth. The bathroom

curtains were bunched up. I chuckled, and a memory of our passionate encounter came to mind. It was a weekend, and the sweltering heat

made you want to take a shower at midday. I remember you were halfway through your shower when you let out a scream and ran to the living room. You

'd forgotten to close the curtains; if anyone was on the opposite floor, they could see right through you. Thinking about it, you patted

your chest, your face flushed.

That chance encounter, that shy blush, ignited my passion. In the living room, we engaged in a wild and exciting activity—

what kind of exercise are you doing now?—before I knew it, the phone rang.

Your voice was as beautiful as ever. "We're climbing Tianzi Mountain, it's so tiring, haha. Those two men are

even worse; they just started and already said their legs were tired, their arms were weak, and their legs were cramping. What a bunch of idiots!" Your laughter was tinged with

excitement ; your voice sounded like a triumphant song after a long battle.

Your quick wit and sharp words left me speechless: "We're planning to stay at a hotel in the mountains tonight.

They say it's clean and peaceful there—"

Speechless, I turned off my phone. June 21st, 11:38 PM. The night was still as peaceful as ever, the lights still as bright as ever. How many men and women were making love

tonight ? And her? What was she doing now? My mind started racing again, my thoughts turning dark and lingering. Had her private passage, meant for me, already been trodden by others, even many? I tried to control my thoughts, but many ideas kept popping up. "If that's really the case, are the secluded paths still as tranquil as before? Has the peach blossom cave, once sweltering, become a frequent haunt? And the slippery fleshy path—" 　　Never mind, too many wild thoughts are torture. Sleep, sleep until dawn—I checked the time, it was already 12:08 AM . Was she asleep? 　　A busy day had surprisingly lessened my longing for her. By the time I got home, all the lights were on in every house. Nighttime is a time that inspires endless fantasies. After so many days without release, I felt a little uncomfortable, and the door to desire was opening again. What was she doing? 　　Once more, I dialed those familiar numbers. Her voice was gentle, even slightly provocative: "Honey, we're back in Changsha. We'll spend the night there. Tomorrow, I can go to Shanghai. And— " Her voice trailed off. 　　"And what?" My voice was clearly urgent. I knew she was having something difficult to say . I understood—it was the kind of thing I both feared and inexplicably hoped would happen. 　　Her voice was a little hesitant, "Those two men said they're seeing each other but can't have them, they're feeling really frustrated. Last night , they both slept with the woman from Hainan, and it felt pretty good. They hope tonight— " 　　My silence made her a little flustered. "Maybe, forget it, don't agree to them," she added , "Actually, they're both very good men." 　　I suddenly felt an uncontrollable urge, my voice trembling slightly, "You should just let things take their course. If it really happens—, turn on your phone—" 　　Waiting was torture, and I unconsciously got an erection— 　　her call came in. I pressed the button, fell silent, held my breath, and listened: 　　the sound of a door opening, followed by two men's voices, an indistinct conversation, and then a man's footsteps.

Sound, door closes, departure.

The rustling sound of clothes being undressed, the sound suddenly becoming clearer; her phone must have been placed on the bedside table.

"—Is mine big? You're so tight down there," the violent pounding sounds.

And her familiar, slightly seductive moans—

the sound of her leaving, and another man's voice, the repeated pounding sounds—the familiar low moans—

remembering again, the increased frequency—a man's intuition, a calm after a storm.

My bullet, just about to fire, when the first man's voice rang out again, "—I want to do it again,

—the chance—, can you handle it?"

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

Repeating the moans from an hour ago—

I ejaculated, exhausted, the lights still on, a sense of emptiness welling up inside. I checked the time: 10:58 PM.

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【Flowers in Full Bloom, Part 9 - A Rendezvous in Zhangjiajie】

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