【The Love Story of a Wandering Butterfly】(Chapter 1) Author: Unknown

Author: Unknown
Word Count: 6950
Chapter 1: The "Lewd Poem" Scandal
The three sisters were very happy to return from school in the afternoon, because Mr. Meng had finished teaching the *Doctrine of the Mean* and
started teaching the *Classic of Poetry*. Although it was still quite
different from the melodious poems I had imagined, it was at least less boring than the obscure sentences in the Four Books!
Father was still not home. Since the establishment of the People's Commune in the village, this former gentry had
lost his former glory, but that didn't stop him from being a good father. Because Grandpa was the only big landowner in town, Father
was also labeled a reactionary, preventing the three of us sisters from attending public school like other children.
This saddened us for a long time, and it took us quite some time to understand that it wasn't Father's fault. The once
pampered eldest son of the Huang family was now a thing of the past. Father, relying on the family fortune accumulated by Grandpa, had started
a business, running around all day.
Even with such a busy schedule, Father continued to strictly supervise the studies of my two sisters and me, never
letting up. He often told us, "To be a good person, you must be well-rounded; without education, you can't get anywhere!" Every
evening when he came home, he would check on each of us sisters' lessons learned at school.
We both loved and feared Father; we feared his unusual strictness. According to the usual routine, the first to answer
a question wasn't my eldest sister Huang Xiu, nor my younger sister Huang Wei, but me, Huang Die.
I sensed a strange pride in their envious eyes, but this pride came at a price. I was even more afraid of Father than they were —I remember once I hadn't prepared my lessons and couldn't answer his question, 　　and I was severely punished
with a thick wooden ruler . But since then, I've never had a lesson I couldn't answer. 　　Today was no exception; I had to carefully review my lessons for his test. Thankfully, today's lesson was on the * 　　Classic of Poetry*, starting with "Guan Ju" from the *Zhou Nan* section. I was immediately captivated by this poem and 　　quickly memorized it: 　　"The ospreys cry 'guan guan' on the river's islet; a fair maiden, a gentleman's ideal. 　　The watercress grows thick and thin, flowing left and right; a fair maiden, he seeks her waking and sleeping. 　　Unable to find her, he longs for her waking and sleeping, tossing and turning in bed. The 　　watercress grows thick and thin, gathered left and right; a fair maiden, he befriends her with zither and lute. 　　The watercress grows thick and thin, plucked left and right. A fair maiden, he delights her with bells and drums." 　　That evening, after Dad returned home, I washed up and sat in my armchair. The test began. Although I was already 　　confident, I was still uneasy, and each time I felt a little apprehensive. I struggled to recall the poem 　　"Guan Ju" that I had memorized during the day, and finally managed to recite it word for word. Looking up, I saw a slight smile in my father's eyes; 　　he seemed quite satisfied, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. 　　"Hehe, it seems Mr. Meng has already begun teaching you the Book of Songs," my father said, opening his slightly narrowed eyes and 　　smiling kindly. He leaned forward slightly on the armrest of his armchair. "Speaking of this book, it 　　was personally compiled by Confucius; it has quite a history. Did you understand the deeper meaning of 'Guan Ju' that day, Die'er?" he asked 　　. 　　I was prepared for this question, so I answered casually, "The poem tells of a virtuous gentleman who 　　saw a beautiful and virtuous woman. From then on, he thought of her day and night, tossing and turning in his sleep. Finally, he mustered his courage and 　　used various means to approach her, playing the zither and the se..." Seeing my father's brows furrowing deeper and deeper, 　　almost twisting in pain, I didn't know what I had said wrong, but I dared not continue. 　　"Is that what Teacher Meng said?" Father asked in a deep voice, his smile freezing into an ugly, strange expression. 　　Seeing the situation was bad, I turned to my older and younger sisters for help, but they seemed equally 　　frightened by Father's harsh tone, exchanging speechless glances. "Tell me! Did Teacher Meng really 　　teach it that way?!" Father's voice rose even higher when he saw me stammering, making my heart pound 　　. 　　"No! Teacher Meng didn't teach it. Today it was just memorization, tomorrow it will be taught!..." My younger sister 　　said softly, head down. My older sister nudged her with her elbow, and she fell silent. 　　"So, you came up with this yourself?" Father's face turned a deep purple, becoming 　　increasingly agitated. "I knew it! Teacher Meng has known me for years, she's a learned person, she 　　would never interpret a well-written poem as a vulgar, obscene poem!" 　　Obscene poem! My heart felt as if it had been struck by a stone; my whole body trembled, and my face burned intensely, 　　all the way to the roots of my neck. I could only lower my head forcefully, not daring to look at him. At that moment, I 　　was terrified that I would be punished with a ruler today. Judging from the fearful expressions of my sisters, I was afraid I 　　couldn't escape punishment this time. 　　"To know what you know, and to know what you don't know—these words of the sages have profound meanings. How can you misinterpret 　　them?" Father said earnestly, changing his tone. "This is clearly about the virtue of empresses and concubines. It's about how the empress of a nation, 　　with harmonious words and deeds, serves as a model for women of the world through her chastity, and is so anxious 　　at night that she can't sleep because she wants the assistance of virtuous men..." 　　Here we go again! I had no choice but to listen, even though I didn't hear much of what was said afterward. Anyway 　　, it was all about the same thing—chastity is paramount. This old tune had been played over and over again. Although I was spared 　　physical punishment this time, I still felt very wronged. It was clearly about matters between men and women, yet 　　my father had dragged it into the affair of a royal concubine. Although I didn't yet fully understand 　　what such deep longing between men and women was like, I dared not say it to my father's face, so I silently buried it in my heart, with no one to confide in. 　　After this little incident, I enjoyed reading the *Classic of Poetry* even more. Judging from my father's near-furious 　　reaction, there must be similar verses within it, and I could find a 　　small, fresh, and rebellious thrill in them. I firmly believed that the meaning of a poem like "Guan Ju" was perfectly 　　clear, and Teacher Meng's interpretation was almost identical to my father's, making a perfectly good poem seem serious and heavy 　　, which gradually made me dislike him.

Dissatisfied with those unreasonable and domineering teachings, I
secretly wrote down my interpretations of each poem I read in a small notebook. I hid this notebook very well, never allowing anyone to see it,
for it was my little secret, my own private little world.
Sure enough, before long, I had collected several poems about love between men and women, such as "Zheng Feng: Zhen Wei,"
"Zheng Feng: Qian Chang," and "Bei Feng: Jing Nu"... The girls in these poems think of men boldly and passionately, their emotions
innocent and unrestrained, without any shyness or concealment,
growing wildly and unbridled like weeds on a mountain!
But what I couldn't understand was: is thinking of a man really worth going to such lengths?
What is it about men that so deeply attracts these girls? The answer, I suppose, lies with the men. But aside from
Teacher Meng, who's over sixty, my family's private school only has three sisters; there are no other young men.
These questions can't be answered there.
The only young man we see is Teacher Meng's good-for-nothing son, Meng Chao. He's quite handsome
, but spends his days idly, only coming to the school to ask his father for money. If we get the chance,
we'll have to catch him and get some answers. Later, I read a poem, "Zhao Nan: A Dead Deer in the Wild": "A
dead deer lies in the wild, wrapped in white reeds.
A young woman, yearning for love, is seduced by a handsome man.
In the forest grows tall trees, in the wild lies a dead deer.
Purely bound in white reeds, a woman as beautiful as jade.
Gently and gracefully, do not touch my sash, do not let the dog bark."
This poem is even more explicit than any of the poems I've collected before. It's about a
strong man who catches a wild deer in the wild. While carrying it down the mountain wrapped in white reeds, he encounters a
beautiful young woman and tries to seduce her… What confuses me most are the last three lines. Why does the woman
say, "Take your time, don't panic! Don't move, don't take off my skirt! Don't startle the dog!" Are
they doing something shameful, and doing it so secretly? This reminds me of my parents.
They always sleep with the door closed at night, and none of the three sisters are allowed to enter their room. Are they doing
something as shameful as in the poem? If so, it's really
unfair of my father to keep such a romantic encounter from us! All these questions, like a fire in spring,
burned fiercely in my throbbing young heart.
To my dismay, Teacher Meng's son hadn't shown up for half a month, so I had to turn my attention to
our cook.
The cook was a young woman in her late twenties, originally one of our many maids.
Later, the government banned the hiring of maids, and my father had to dismiss them. However, the cook refused to leave—
she had an unhappy marriage; her husband had died young from a strange illness, and she
had nowhere to go if she left our family. My father, seeing her honesty and efficiency, adopted her as his goddaughter and kept her in the house,
mainly responsible for preparing breakfast and dinner for the family.
I figured that since she had been married, she must know about matters of the heart!
The opportunity finally came. One Sunday morning, my older sister and younger sister went to visit relatives with my mother at my uncle's house
. This time, I didn't go—I had been brewing this secret plan for a long time.
No sooner had Mother left than I dashed into the kitchen to find the cook. She was squatting on the floor adding firewood to the stove
—last night I had asked her to boil a big pot of water for me to bathe in this morning, and I had also asked her to
buy me a scented soap from the supply and marketing cooperative. I wanted to enjoy a nice, relaxing bath all by myself at home!
Seeing me sneak in, she raised her sweaty forehead and apologized, saying, "Second Miss, don't
be in such a hurry, the water won't be boiling for a while! I'll come and call you when it's ready..."—Although her status
had changed from maid to cook, she still retained her old habit of calling us sisters "Miss." Father had told
her several times to stop, but she hadn't been able to change, so he had no choice but to let her continue.
My conscience was bothering me, and my face flushed instantly. I quickly shook my head and said, "No...no,
it's not that. I just wanted to ask you something else..." I mustered my courage and blurted out
all the questions about men and women that had been piling up in my mind lately. "Sister, you have to tell me, why
do men like women? And why do women miss men so much that they can't eat or sleep? Are they doing
something shameful behind my back?..."
After I rattled off my questions, the cook's eyes widened like saucers, her face filled with inexplicable
astonishment. She exclaimed, "Oh my! My little darling, you'd better
keep your voice down! What nonsense are you thinking about? Is this something a young lady can ask so casually? If I tell you, the master will be furious when he gets back!
He'll definitely kick me out!"
"Why can't a girl ask these questions?" I pouted angrily. "Tell me, I
won't tell anyone else, Daddy won't know! Just tell me, okay?!" I had to use a persistent and
coquettish approach to get the desired effect from her, a trick that had worked every time before.
The cook knew I was incredibly stubborn, always wanting to get to the bottom of things, so
she sighed helplessly, straightened up from the ground, and rubbed her aching back as she said, "
This is something only married people need to know! It's not a good thing for a young lady to know too early, but you're all
grown up now, a proper young woman, and engaged, so telling you is fine. But you have to promise
me you won't tell the master, or he'll beat me to death!"
She staggered to the kitchen door, leaned against the doorframe, and cautiously peeked into the yard before closing the door and
returning. Her two large, round breasts swayed in her clothes, making me both envious and jealous—
why didn't I have breasts as big as hers?
My mother had told me about my betrothal to the son of a landlord surnamed Yuan in a neighboring town since childhood, and
my older and younger sisters had similar arrangements, but that wasn't what I was concerned about now—seeing that she had promised to...
"Tell me," I said impatiently, "I promise I won't tell Father
, I promise... I guarantee it! Let's pinky swear, a hundred years from now!" I said playfully,
extending my little finger to her.
The cook hooked her finger with mine, revealing a set of white teeth as she smiled:
"You! Still the same as ever, mischievous and clever, haven't changed at all. Unlike your older sisters, you're not so composed.
A young lady should be more reserved!"
Although she was plain-looking, her smile was truly beautiful, as charming as a flower. I thought
that if a man saw her smile, he would definitely like her. She pulled over a long bench, took
my hand, and sat down beside me, speaking softly in a pleasant tone.
"You three sisters are like caged canaries, waited on hand and foot.
Even someone as proper as your mother probably hasn't had anyone tell you about the differences between men and women, has she?" She glanced at me
and said. I quickly nodded; she was absolutely right—Mother never talked to us about these
things, nor did she allow us to mention them. "Men and women are the same; they have ears, eyes, noses, mouths…
They look similar to women, but have you noticed that there are still significant differences?"
"I know that. Men grow beards! Father has one, Teacher Meng has one, but Mother doesn't,
and neither do you. Children shouldn't be able to tell the difference, right?" I quickly replied. I did know that; I hadn't
seen Meng Chao or my cousin with beards. Perhaps they weren't as old as Father yet; maybe they would grow them when they got older
.
"That's true, and it's not. That's just on the surface. The real difference is here and here!"
The cook touched her ample chest and said, then placed her hand on her lower abdomen and pointed to the middle of her thigh. "The biggest difference
is this place... the place where you pee... It's different. A man's is a stick, limp and lifeless
like an oak root or a dead snake during the day, but at night it gets hard and swollen, six or seven inches long, as big as a sausage
! About that size." She pointed to a string of smoked sausages hanging on the pillar.
"Wow! It's quite big, as thick as a child's arm!" I glanced at the dark
sausages in surprise and said, "Such a big thing, it's really a waste that it can be hidden during the day. I
don't have one!" I touched the flat genitals in the middle of my thigh and said dejectedly.
"So... only those with that thing are called men! I'm like you, I was born from the yin energy of heaven and earth,
which is why I have this woman's body. Of course, I'm different from men! We have different names too. We call it 'cunt' here,
but men call it 'cock.' A cock has a fleshy sac at the base, containing two testicles the size of bird eggs!"
"Really?! But... calling that 'cock' doesn't sound good at all! It's awful!
The shape of that sausage is also quite ugly, like a mismatched stone pestle. It's nothing like our women's genitals, which are so
lovely," I tried hard to recall what my genitals looked like, searching for the right words to describe them. "Although
it lacks that stick-like thing, it's as tender and full as the opening of a clam. My sister once pried open that slit
for me to see, and inside it was pink like a flower, so cute! Don't you think so?"
"Yes! Yes! Yes! It's definitely much better looking than a man's," the cook agreed, laughing
so hard she was shaking. "A man's penis may be ugly, but if there were no men in this world, there would be no human life,
and women would miss out on so much fun! ...You'll find out after you get married that besides you having to call him 'husband' and
him 'wife,' he'll also have to put that big penis inside your vagina and make you give birth!"
I was shocked and said nervously, "Such a big thing has to be stuffed inside?
Wouldn't that hurt like hell? How can I have children? Who decided this ridiculous thing?! It's so inhumane! Forget
it, I don't want to get married." "What marriage!"
The cook burst out laughing, her mouth agape. "Blame Nuwa! Originally
, there were no men or women in the world. Who told her to create a man and a woman? And then to make them
live together? It was all her doing. Think about it, back then people didn't even know how to build houses.
A man and a woman lived in a cave, without any clothes—not even cloth.
They could only use leaves as clothing to protect themselves from the cold and heat. How pitiful! But back then, they probably didn't
know about inserting that fleshy thing into a vagina, and they wouldn't have found it strange to look at each other's genitals. Maybe
..." While cuddling for warmth in the cold winter, they accidentally let his penis touch her vagina. The contact
felt strangely pleasurable, so they rubbed together a few more times. Unexpectedly, the head of his penis went inside her. This
must have startled them both. When they came to their senses, the man probably thought there was
something inside, so he forcefully pushed his penis further in, wanting to explore. But with this force, the woman felt
a wonderfully itchy and numb sensation inside her vagina, and she clung tightly to him, unwilling to let go. The man felt the same way,
feeling a lot of vaginal fluid flowing out, slippery and unbearably itchy. He forgot his initial intention to explore further and
began thrusting back and forth. "Come on, only pursuing that strangely itchy and tingling pleasure, you can't stop without realizing it, until
you shoot that white semen into the vagina and then you stop. The semen enters the woman's body and grows into a fetus,
and that's how human life continues to this day..."
I suddenly remembered the young and strong hunter and the beautiful
girl described in "Zhao Nan: There is a Dead Deer in the Wild" and interrupted her, saying, "That's right, that's right, there's a poem in the Book of Songs that says a woman tells a man to
be slow and not to rush, that must be referring to this. According to you,
this is how the good things between men and women begin, right?" Everything she said seemed so reasonable that I couldn't help but believe it.
"Silly girl, you believe such a thing? I just made it up. Nuwa is just
an ancient legend; it might not even be true..." the cook said with a smile. Seeing that
the fire in the stove was about to go out, she added some more firewood and continued, "When I first got married..."
"I didn't know about this before. When it came to that, it was the time when the fleshy barbarian was inserted into my vagina. It almost killed me with pain
!"
"Then...didn't you just say it was itchy and numb, and very comfortable? How did it start to hurt?" I
asked, puzzled. This was clearly a nonsensical statement!
"You wouldn't believe it! My nemesis's penis was way bigger than a sausage, and he had no mercy on me.
He didn't know that a virgin's vagina is like a flower bud that hasn't opened yet, that the juices haven't flowed out, that the vagina is still
dry and tight, and he just barged right in. Imagine, something so big filling the vagina completely,
no wonder it hurt!" She frowned tightly, as if still immersed in the pain of that moment, and it took a while
for her brows to slowly relax. "But it only happened once, and then it gradually got better. A big penis
has its advantages, the wonderful feeling is indescribable. Maybe
this is what they mean by 'after hardship comes happiness.' When that bastard was alive, I wouldn't forgive him if he didn't have sex with me at least once or twice a day!"
"That's interesting. It makes me want to try that cock too," she said, making my vagina
itch uncontrollably. However, I was still worried about the pain. "Is it only big
cocks that feel good? Small cocks are the same, right?" I asked anxiously. As long as it's comfortable, a smaller one
doesn't matter.
"I don't know. I've only been with one man, so I don't know if a small one is just as
comfortable," the cook said, shaking her head. She glanced at me and said, "You're worried a big one will hurt you, aren't you?
Well, of course, the bigger it is, the more it hurts. But you have to understand, we women's parts are very soft,
with many folds of flesh inside. We long for that cock to touch them, and every place it touches is incredibly pleasurable. If a man's cock is too
short, there are places it can't reach, so you can't experience complete pleasure—so, a
big and long penis is much better. If it's as hard as an iron rod..." "Even better! That way, your vagina will be filled.
Then the man will uncontrollably thrust wildly. You must grit your teeth and endure it. After a while
, your vagina will feel hot and itchy, like you can't give birth, you can't die. That's when you've truly experienced
the pleasure between husband and wife!"
Hearing the cook's words, I immediately felt a slight wriggling in my vagina, and the itching intensified unbearably
. It seemed as if some fluid was leaking out. Embarrassed, I stood up and said, "Sister, the water's boiled. I
'll go back inside. Dilute it with cold water and bring it in!" With that, I hurriedly fled
the kitchen.
[To be continued]

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【The Love Story of a Wandering Butterfly】(Chapter 1) Author: Unknown

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