The Women Who Came and Went Through My Life (11-20) Author: Grass-like Youth

Author: Grass-like Youth
Word Count: 33711

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Chapter Eleven

Thank you all for your support, which gives me the confidence to continue the narrative. Actually, in the process of writing, I
sometimes waver, feeling that I should use more subtle language to better meet the requirements of literature. But I am only
writing a factual account, so I no longer care about whether the writing is moving. Some veteran readers think that my talent is not used in
writing, which is very true. I will try my best to make the writing more vivid in the following narrative. But I still rely on
the truth to deceive the soul of the article.

If I passively accepted Yu Qiong; I was devoted to Li for life; and I was
a comfort to Xiu in times of loneliness, then what about Jing? What am I? I am not sure, because when I think of her,
my soul is filled with joy and excitement. I increasingly feel that Jing is the kind of woman with a magnanimous spirit, or, in this year
's popular internet slang, someone who can hold her. But what exactly does she look like when she is charming?

Jing likes to drink and likes to make friends. She said she went back to her hometown last year and played mahjong for two months, losing 20,000 yuan.
This year, she stopped playing mahjong and just drank with friends. I asked her why she liked drinking; it
didn't suit her elegant appearance. Jing said it was all her husband's fault. He has kidney disease, and the doctor said he couldn't
drink excessively, but his job required him to drink—like a hostess, accompanying leaders at various levels
to drink, get foot massages, saunas, and hire prostitutes. So Jing started practicing her drinking capacity, asking her husband to take her along. Later, in
various drinking activities, Jing often outperformed her husband, pleasing the leaders. But now she's
become a bit addicted; she feels uneasy if she doesn't drink for a few days. I told her to drink for me, and I was very touched. Turns out you really can drink!
Looks like I was just being presumptuous. Haha! Jing said, "You ungrateful wretch! I only drank for you because I like you!
Have you ever drunk for me?"

Finally, one night, around 10 pm, I suddenly received a phone call; it was very noisy on the other end.
It was Jing's best friend calling, saying that Jing was drunk at a KTV in the city and causing a huge scene. Jing's friend
hoped I could go and keep an eye on Jing. I hung up and took a taxi to the city. When I arrived and
found the KTV room, I saw a man dancing with Jing's slender waist in his arms, his hand caressing her shapely
buttocks. Just as I was about to pull her away, Jing suddenly pushed him away forcefully, staggered
across the dance floor, and then clung to another man, who looked bewildered. I quickly went over,
smiled at the man, and said, "Excuse me, I'm her boyfriend!" The dance floor lights were dim, and I could see Jing's dazed eyes.
Jing yelled, "Get away...get away! My boyfriend is Guang, who are you?" My heart skipped a beat, and I whispered in her ear, "
Jing, I'm Guang. Let's go, let's leave here." Jing leaned against me obediently. I
gestured to Jing's best friend, who had been on the phone with me, that I was taking Jing with me. Then I led Jing out of the karaoke bar and asked her, "Where are
we staying tonight?" Jing said, "Let's get a room!" We went to the most expensive hotel in the county. At the front desk, Jing insisted on
paying. When we got to the room, Jing opened her eyes wide. Seeing me, she was very happy and said, "It really is you, Guang!
I thought I was dreaming."

I took off her clothes, and when Jing appeared naked in front of me, I was truly amazed:
her body was as white as jade, with a shapely figure. Except for a short scar from a C-section on her lower abdomen, she was
flawless . Her breasts weren't as big as my wife's, but they were firm. What amazed me even more were her nipples—small,
pink, and the areolas were also pink. And her abdomen was firm, with a small, round navel that I really wanted to lick. Between
her long, slender thighs, the vulva that had frequently appeared in my dreams since high school was suddenly
displayed before my eyes. She lay there quietly, looking at me with hazy eyes. Then she said, "Hikaru, I'm drunk.
Don't touch me." But how could I possibly do that? I quickly stripped off my clothes, hugged Jing,
and kissed her. Although the smell of alcohol was strong, I could still feel Jing's nimble tongue, warm and greedily sucking on me.
My hands climbed up Jing's two breasts. Jing hummed: "Hikaru, harder." I kneaded Jing's breasts vigorously, and
I gently leaned down, licking Jing's nipples with my nimble tongue, sometimes sucking the entire nipple and
areola into my mouth. The sounds of "plop plop" filled the room. I turned on the bedside lamp, and Jing's legs were directly facing the light,
her vulva completely exposed. Because Jing was lying down, her mons pubis stood out prominently between her thighs. (
Those who know about the "steamed bun" thing can use their imagination.) Jing's pubic hair grew smoothly on top of her labia majora. Her thick
labia majora were so tender and white, almost the same color as her thighs. I saw that Jing's labia majora
were slightly open due to extreme engorgement, but it still looked like a slit. I could only vaguely see two pink labia minora
timidly peeking out. My fingers gently brushed around Jing's thighs, drawing regular circles. Jing twisted her body and
cried out: "Guang, I'm so itchy, please, don't touch me!" Ah...ah...

I noticed that Jing's labia were moist and shiny. I gently dipped my middle finger in, and a thin thread was pulled out.
It was a transparent, trembling, seductive thread. Her clitoris was like a shimmering pearl, swollen
with passion. Jing twisted her body, her hands gripping my back tightly, as if she wanted to writhe into my body.
I used my thumb and forefinger to open Jing's labia majora, like opening a peony bud about to bloom in the morning, glistening with dew.
A stream of fluid flowed out, passing through her perineum, down her buttocks, and wetting the white sheets.

I inserted my middle finger; Jing's vagina was so tight, I could feel the intense
tension of her vaginal walls. My fingertip touched Jing's cervix, which seemed to be playing hide-and-seek with my fingertip,
flickering and shifting uncertainly. Jing's nimble tongue gently bit my earlobe, humming indistinctly,
then teasing my earlobe with the tip of her tongue. I heard her urgent call: "Guang... come, fuck me... hurry, give me
your cock , fuck... fuck me!

" My blood boiled, my cock already hard as iron. I thrust my cock into Jing's vagina, but
perhaps due to excessive tension, or perhaps because Jing's vagina was too tight, my cock barely passed through Jing's labia majora; the glans failed to
penetrate her vagina, instead sweeping upwards swiftly towards Jing's clitoris. Jing trembled all over. "Ah..." Jing
screamed . "Oh my god..." Jing suddenly opened her eyes, pushing my upper body hard with her hand, "Please,
who are you! Don't do this to me!"

"Darling, Jing, I'm Guang... I'm Guang..." I whispered in her ear, while
gently licking her earlobe with my tongue.

Jing quieted down, holding me tightly as she searched for my penis with her hand. My penis, as if
it had eyes, parted Jing's labia and thrust straight in with a "plop!" My penis
had never ; it felt like every little bit of penetration was overcoming countless obstacles, but it still
went all the way in. It seemed to touch a small, round spot, but then again, it seemed not, flickering. I pulled out
and then thrust in again. Jing was lying flat, and with each thrust, she let out a long
"Ah..." and then raised her legs, seemingly unable to withstand the further thrusting.

"No... Guang, don't fuck me!"

I ignored her and continued to thrust hard.

"Ah...ah...light, fuck me, fuck me hard, fuck my cunt (seeing this word, some
netizens should know our origin, right?) through! Ah..."

My penis brought out a pool of water, glistening under the light, and every time I thrust in, I heard a "plop" sound.
After a few minutes, Jing shuddered violently. She hugged me tightly. She didn't move. My penis suddenly
felt a strange suction from the depths of Jing's vagina, like the sucking of a carp's mouth. This strange suction made
my penis feel incredibly good. Instantly, I ejaculated.

The next morning, when Jing woke up, she lifted the covers and saw two naked bodies intertwined. She was
completely sober and hit me wildly. I held her, and Jing calmed down. Then we went to the bathroom and washed for a long time. I went to
the edge of the bathroom and saw Jing using the showerhead to vigorously wash her vagina. I didn't know if her eyes were water
or tears...

Chapter Twelve

But that August was perhaps the happiest time of my life. If I could, I would gladly sacrifice
a third of my life to relive that romantic August. I often sang the then-
popular . I especially loved the line, "Inviting the bright moon to illuminate memories, love is perfect under the moonlight
." We often walked side-by-side on the country cobblestone path around eight or nine o'clock at night. The summer heat had
mostly dissipated, and the moon had risen early, casting deep and shallow shadows of trees, a rich and pale silver, transforming the countryside
into a beautiful fairytale. The cobblestone path stretched out amidst rice paddies and orchards. So, walking
softly on the quiet cobblestone path, we trod in the moonlight. The moon showered us with glistening white blossoms,
sometimes clinging to our temples, sometimes adorning our clothes. It showered us down as if afraid to disturb the mystery of the night,
quietly, without a sound. Oh! Quietly, the mountain forest night is boundless and still; let our footsteps, on
the cobblestone path , knock on our dreams…

On those August nights, what did I whisper in Jing's ear? What did Jing whisper in my ear? There's no need
to search; what we need to search for is simply that warmth. Because words cannot leave an imprint on the heart, only true feelings
can. True feelings are like an invisible hand, soothing pain, encouraging the soul, and leading us towards brightness. On those
August nights, the world was at our feet, the stars above our heads; a few scattered stars shone especially
brightly. And so, I had a secret wish: I wanted to pluck a few silver stars to illuminate our love.

The August moon is beautiful, but even more beautiful is Jing standing facing the moonlight, that soft silver glow enveloping her
entire body . Jing wore a white dress, like an angel in the moonlight! Jing, you don't know how beautiful you were then! That kind of
beauty doesn't belong to flowers, grass, or the mundane world; rather, it's a refined brilliance, a graceful
charm. I gaze into your deep, quiet eyes, and with each glance, I discover a different kind of radiance.

Do you remember, my dear, that night we were having coffee? I rarely drink coffee before, because I find it too
Westernized . I prefer tea; tea is a traditional Chinese thing, and I like traditional things, like regulated verse and lyrics. But
you insisted on going, so I had to accompany you. The hall was spacious, filled with potted plants. There weren't many people, but it wasn't
deserted . Because everyone's face was young. Some were reading alone or looking at fashion magazines,
others were chatting quietly in twos and threes, but there was absolutely no loud noise. Unlike the noisy sounds of mahjong or "chechang'er
" (a type of Sichuan card game) in street-side teahouses. We found a spot next to a bonsai cypress tree against the wall and sat down.
The waiter brought two cups of coffee. I'd never had black coffee with strawberries before. It was slightly bitter at first, but upon closer tasting,
the sweetness of the strawberries was evident. The taste was truly comparable to a fine cup of Longjing or Biluochun tea.

"I used to go to coffee shops a lot when I was dating," Jing said. So, Jing gently recounted my love story,
those sweet memories unfolding before me scene by scene. I was envious, because my own love seemed
rushed and pale.

The lights in the lobby weren't bright, and
the music of "Yesterday Once More" drifted from a corner—that famous song I deeply loved. The song immersed us both in a dreamlike
state of reminiscence. Before I knew it, Jing was nestled tightly in my arms, her arms wrapped around me, murmuring,
"You deserve happiness. I hope you're doing well, doing really well—"

That night, we sat like that, nestled together, until the coffee shop closed late at night.

I wrote the fan painting for Jing. My handwriting was beautiful—"Love Jing." "Hehe, so beautiful!" Jing said.
Then she took out her phone, snapped a picture of the fan, and said she wanted to keep it as a permanent memento. I
cherished it , playing with it all the time. In that sweltering summer, whenever the heat became unbearable, I would open the folding fan to ward off mosquitoes
and fan myself, murmuring "Love Jing." As I chanted, it was as if Jing was standing in front of me, smiling gently, and half the heat would dissipate!
Unfortunately, I later lost it by accident. I lamented and regretted it for a long time, but Jing comforted me, saying, "It's okay if you lose it, it's saved on my
phone !

" "What if you lose your phone someday?" I asked.

Jing pointed to her left chest, "It's already here! How could it be lost?"

I picked Jing up and kissed her hard. I felt like the happiest person in the world!

I remember it was August 5th. We made an appointment early in the morning to go to a temple in our town to worship the Bodhisattva. Hand
in hand, like two little birds, we sang happily along the country lanes, singing old songs we learned in high school.
We sang songs by Alan Tam, Leslie Cheung, Teresa Teng, Zhao Chuan, Che Jiling, and others. Many songs were unfamiliar, but as soon as one
started, the other would hum along without hesitation. Those rhythms and melodies buried deep in our hearts during our school days...
The melody, the laughter and tears of youth, all welled up in my heart! Jing then told me her story,
including the one about the young man surnamed Peng who had loved her for years. Jing was very sad, feeling sorry for him, for not reciprocating his
love. She felt guilty! This had been a knot in Jing's heart for so many years.

"How wonderful it would be if I could say 'I'm sorry' to his face someday! But he doesn't want to see me,"
Jing said.

I didn't know how to comfort Jing. I thought of Qiong, I thought of Xiu, and my mood sank down as well.

The temple was soon reached, a place like a paradise. Under the deep blue sky, the temple, like a
baby, slept peacefully on the mountainside. The distant peaks were faintly visible, tightly embracing the area.
Rice paddies stretched as far as the eye could see, the nearly ripe rice ears like shy maidens, bowing their heads in silence, only
the frogs in the fields croaking, "Croak—croak—" expressing their inexplicable longing. Nearby stood an unnamed tree,
its branches laden with red fruit. Several birds fluttered by, chirping contentedly, and began pecking at the berries. We
walked hand-in-hand into the temple, where towering bodhisattvas sat serenely, their faces radiant. Several devotees
chanted scriptures and struck wooden fish drums, "tap-tap-tap—". I've never been a devout Buddhist and was about to laugh when Jing stopped me with
a gentle yet stern look. She gestured for me to kneel, and Jing knelt as well, softly saying, "Make a wish!"

I silently wished: May the bodhisattvas bless my family with happiness and health! And may this kind
, beautiful forever be free from worries!

I opened my eyes and saw Jing devoutly clasped her hands together, murmuring incantations. I wondered,
what wishing for? Was I included in that vow?

We ate lunch at the temple: mung bean porridge and a few vegetarian dishes. Jing happily helped prepare lunch, like a simple and diligent
rural woman. I had a sudden thought: if only I could truly have Jing, living in a small mountain village, even
just a little wooden cabin on a mountaintop, filled with books and a huge pile of CDs that Jing loved, with
food and vegetables we grew ourselves when we were hungry, and springs everywhere when we were thirsty, and sleeping together in each other's arms when we were tired, the sound
of the pine breeze and dreams of white clouds.

I think I was daydreaming, but in that temple with its wooden fish drum and swirling incense, my heart was truly as
calm as still water. The usual hustle and bustle of the city vanished without a trace, and the worries of fame and fortune no longer bothered me.

On the way back that afternoon, I asked you, "What did you wish for?"

Jing gazed steadily into the distance, then looked into my eyes and said, "I wish that all those I love and
those who love me will be well!"

"Well, well," Jing repeated.

But joyful days are always too short, and the days left before Jing's departure were numbered. One day, Jing said: "From today
onwards, I want you to know that being a man can be just as pleasant." That was the hottest time of the year. Jing
rented a hotel room in the city, the kind with a computer. Every morning, Jing would go downstairs and buy breakfast. She'd wake me
up . Jing knew I liked writing and preferred quiet. She'd go
shopping with her best friend, bringing lunch back to the hotel. Sometimes she'd invite me along to
small dinners (because Jing often treated people to meals without warning). Everyone in her circle of friends knew about our
relationship. So Jing would casually link her arm with mine, like a little bird nestled against me, always putting food on my plate first. In the afternoons,
my friends would sometimes call to invite me out to play cards. Jing knew I usually lost, so every time I left,
she'd put a thousand yuan in my jacket pocket. I'd insist on refusing, and Jing would say, "Consider it a stake; if we lose, it's
okay, but if we win, we'll split it." But even when I won, she wouldn't let me share. I'd say, "You're so good to me,
how can I repay you!" She'd then smile mischievously and say, "Repay me when you get back tonight!" Jing would also play mahjong with her friends.
She would advise me to bet small, not greedy, just treat it as a pastime. Sometimes, when she was really bored,
she would come with me, sitting quietly beside me, without saying a word. On the way back to the hotel at night, Jing would say, "
Guang, watching you play cards is a pleasure." The way you examined the cards was so cool. Below the hotel were riverside
beer stalls with all kinds of food, such as stir-fried snails, stir-fried lobster, and grilled fish, all of which we liked. We would each have
a bottle of beer, drinking together under the streetlights and the starry sky. After a satisfying meal,
we would return to the hotel and begin our most ecstatic sexual journey of the day. I remember one time we were showering in the bathroom,
the steam filling the entire space, the bathroom lights dim and dreamlike. We were scrubbing each other's backs, the soap lather making
our bodies so slippery, our hands constantly tracing each other's sensitive areas. I suddenly knelt down,
burying my head between Jing's thighs, my tongue freely licking her vulva. Jing had probably never experienced such
stimulation ; she almost lost her balance, moaning ecstatically. We were in the steam, her sitting on the edge of the bathtub,
her thighs spread wide, my tongue delicately sucking at the crevice of her vulva. Soon, Jing
pressed my head down hard, her whole body trembling, she climaxed. As soon as the afterglow of her orgasm subsided, I told her to lie on her hands
on the edge of the bathtub, facing away from me, her buttocks raised. Her vulva was so adorable, her thick
labia tightly enveloping my penis. Each thrust was accompanied by a soft cry from Jing.

Today, a friend added me, saying he envied me for having women who loved me. Then he said that if a man had a career, money, and
talent, he would be perfect. But life is rarely perfect; good things don't always go your way.
The greater the happiness, the greater the suffering—this is truly a truth.

But that August was perhaps the happiest time of my life. If I could, I would gladly sacrifice
a third of my life to recapture that romantic August. I often sang the then-
popular song . I especially loved the line, "Inviting the bright moon to illuminate memories, love is perfect under the moonlight
." We often walked side by side on the cobblestone path in the countryside around eight or nine o'clock at night. The summer heat had
mostly dissipated, and the moon had risen early, casting deep and shallow shadows of trees, a rich and pale silver, transforming the countryside
into a beautiful fairy tale. The cobblestone path stretched out amidst rice paddies and orchards. So, walking
softly on the quiet cobblestone path, we trod in the moonlight. The moon showered us with glistening white blossoms,
sometimes clinging to our temples, sometimes adorning our clothes. It falls silently, as if afraid to disturb the mystery of the night
. Oh! Silently, the night in the mountain forest is boundless stillness; let our footsteps, on
the stone path , knock on dreams…

What did I whisper in Jing's ear on those August nights? What did Jing whisper in my ear? There's no need
to search for the answer; what matters is that warmth. For words cannot etch an imprint on the heart; only true feelings
can. True feelings are like invisible hands, soothing pain, encouraging the soul, and leading us towards clarity. On those
August nights, the world was at our feet, the stars above us; a few scattered stars shone especially
brightly. And so, I had a secret wish: I wanted to pluck a few silver stars to illuminate our love.

The August moon was beautiful, but even more beautiful was Jing standing facing the moonlight, the soft silver glow enveloping her
entirely . Jing wore a white dress, like an angel in the moonlight! Jing, you don't know how beautiful you were then!
That beauty didn't belong to flowers, grass, or the mortal world; rather, it was a transcendent radiance, a graceful
elegance. I gazed into Jing's deep eyes, and with each glance, I found a different kind of brilliance.

Do you remember, darling, that night we were having coffee? I rarely drink coffee before, because I think it's too
Westernized . I prefer tea; tea is a traditional Chinese thing, and I like traditional things, like regulated verse and lyrics. But
you insisted on going, so I had to go with you. The hall was spacious, with potted plants everywhere. There weren't many people, but it wasn't
deserted . Because everyone's face was young. Some were reading books or fashion magazines alone, while others
were talking quietly in twos and threes, but there was absolutely no loud noise. Unlike the noisy mahjong or "Che Chang Er
" (a type of Sichuan card game) sounds in street teahouses. We found a spot next to a cypress bonsai tree by the wall and sat down.
The waiter brought two cups of coffee. I'd never had black coffee with strawberries before. It was slightly bitter at first, but upon closer tasting,
it revealed the sweetness of strawberries. The taste was really no less than a cup of fine Longjing or Biluochun.

"I often went to coffee shops when I was dating," Jing said. So, Jing gently recounted my love story,
those sweet memories unfolding before me scene by scene. I was envious, because my love seemed
rushed and pale.

The lights in the lobby weren't bright, and from a corner came
the music of "Yesterday Once More," that famous song I deeply loved. The song immersed us both in a dreamlike
state of memory. Before I knew it, Jing was nestled tightly in my arms, her arms wrapped around me, murmuring,
"You deserve happiness. I hope you're doing well, very well—"

That night, we sat like that, nestled together, until the café closed late at night.

I wrote a fan for Jing; my handwriting was beautiful—"Love Jing." "Hehe, so beautiful!" Jing said.
Then she took out her phone, snapped a picture of the fan, saying she wanted to keep it as a permanent memento. I
cherished it , playing with it from time to time. In that sweltering summer, whenever the heat became unbearable, I would turn on the folding fan to ward off mosquitoes and fan
myself, murmuring "I love Jing." As I chanted, it was as if Jing herself was smiling and standing before me, instantly dispelling half the heat!
Unfortunately, I later lost it. I lamented and regretted it for a long time, but Jing comforted me, saying, "It's okay if you lose it, it's saved on
my phone !

" "What if you lose your phone someday?" I asked.

Jing pointed to her left chest, "It's already here! How could it be lost?"

I hugged Jing tightly and kissed her passionately. I felt like the happiest person in the world!

I remember it was August 5th. We made a date early to go to a temple in our town to worship the Bodhisattva.
Hand in hand, like two little birds, we sang happily on the country road, singing old songs we learned in high school.
We sang songs by Alan Tam, Leslie Cheung, Teresa Teng, Zhao Chuan, Che Jiling, and others. Many of the songs were unfamiliar, but as soon as one
started, the other would hum along without hesitation. Those rhythms and melodies buried deep in my heart during my school days
, those youthful laughter and tears, all surged forth! Jing then told me her story,
including one about the young man surnamed Peng who had been secretly in love with her for many years. Jing was very sad, feeling sorry for him, for not reciprocating his
love in the same way. She felt guilty! This had been a knot in Jing's heart for so many years.

"How wonderful it would be if I could say 'I'm sorry' to his face someday! But he doesn't want to see me,"
Jing said.

I didn't know how to comfort Jing. I thought of Qiong, I thought of Xiu, and my mood also sank.

The temple was reached in the blink of an eye, a place like a paradise. Under the deep blue sky, the temple, like a
baby, slept peacefully on the mountainside. The distant peaks were faintly visible, tightly embracing this area.
Rice paddies stretched as far as the eye could see, the nearly ripe rice ears like shy maidens, bowing their heads in silence, only the frogs in the fields croaking
, "Croak—croak—" expressing a strange longing. Nearby stood an unnamed tree,
its branches laden with red fruit. Several birds fluttered by, chirping contentedly, and began pecking at the berries. We
walked hand-in-hand into the temple, where towering bodhisattvas sat serenely, their faces radiant. Several devotees
chanted scriptures and struck wooden fish drums, "tap-tap-tap—". I've never been a devout Buddhist and was about to laugh when Jing stopped me with
a gentle yet stern look. She gestured for me to kneel, and Jing knelt as well, softly saying, "Make a wish!"

I silently wished: May the bodhisattvas bless my family with happiness and health! And may this kind
, beautiful forever be free from worries!

I opened my eyes and saw Jing devoutly clasped her hands together, murmuring incantations. I wondered,
what wishing for? Was I included in that vow?

We ate lunch at the temple: mung bean porridge and a few vegetarian dishes. Jing happily helped prepare lunch, like a simple and diligent
rural woman. I had a sudden thought: if only I could truly have Jing, living in a small mountain village, even
just a small wooden cabin on a mountaintop, filled with books and a huge collection of CDs that Jing loved, with
food and vegetables we grew ourselves when we were hungry, and springs readily available when we were thirsty, and sleeping together in each other's arms when we were tired, the sound of the pine
breeze , dreaming of white clouds.

I think I was daydreaming, but in that temple with its rhythmic wooden fish drum and swirling incense smoke, my heart was truly
as still as water. The usual clamor of the city vanished without a trace, and the worries of fame and fortune ceased to bother me.

On the way back that afternoon, I asked you, "What did you wish for?"

Jing gazed steadily into the distance, then looked into my eyes and said, "I wish that all those I love and
those who love me will be well!"

"Well, well," Jing repeated.

But joyful days are always too short, and the days until Jing's departure were numbered. One day, Jing said: "From today
onwards, I want you to know that being a man can be just as pleasant." That was the hottest time of the year. Jing...
I rented a hotel room in the city, the kind with a computer. Every morning, Jing would go downstairs and buy breakfast. She'd wake me
up . Jing knew I liked writing and preferred quiet. She'd go
shopping with her best friend, bringing back lunch at the hotel. Sometimes she'd invite me to
small dinners (because Jing often treated people to meals without my knowledge). Everyone in her circle of friends knew about our
relationship. So Jing would casually link her arm with mine, like a little bird nestled against me, always putting food on my plate first. In the afternoons,
my friends would sometimes call to invite me out to play cards. Jing knew I lost most of the time, so each time before I left,
she'd put a thousand yuan in my jacket pocket. I'd insist on refusing, and Jing would say, "Consider it a stake; if we lose, it's
okay, but if we win, we'll split it." But even when I won, she wouldn't let me share. I'd say, "You're so good to me,
how can I repay you!" She'd then smile mischievously and say, "Repay me when you get back tonight!" Jing would also play mahjong with her friends.
She would advise me to bet small, not greedy, just treat it as a pastime. Sometimes, when she was really bored,
she would come with me, sitting quietly beside me, without saying a word. On the way back to the hotel at night, Jing would say, "
Guang, watching you play cards is a pleasure." The way you examined the cards was so cool. Below the hotel were riverside
beer stalls with all kinds of food, such as stir-fried snails, stir-fried lobster, and grilled fish, all of which we liked. We would each have
a bottle of beer, drinking together under the streetlights and the starry sky. After a satisfying meal,
we would return to the hotel and begin our most ecstatic sexual journey of the day. I remember one time we were showering in the bathroom,
the steam filling the entire space, the bathroom lights dim and dreamlike. We were scrubbing each other's backs, the soap lather making
our bodies so slippery, our hands constantly tracing each other's sensitive areas. I suddenly knelt down,
burying my head between Jing's thighs, my tongue freely licking her vulva. Jing had probably never experienced such
stimulation ; she almost lost her balance, moaning ecstatically. We sat on the edge of the bathtub in the steam,
her thighs spread wide, my tongue delicately sucking at the crevice of her vulva. Soon, Jing
pressed my head down hard, her whole body trembling, and she climaxed. As soon as the afterglow of her orgasm subsided, I told her to lean
on the edge of the bathtub, her back to me, her buttocks raised. Her vulva was so adorable, her thick
labia tightly enveloping my penis. Each thrust was accompanied by a soft cry from Jing.

When things quieted down, Jing would gaze at my face: "Guang, it's you who made me realize
how wonderful it is to be a woman!" I smiled. I said I didn't believe it. Jing counted on her fingers: "You gave me so many firsts, like my first
time giving oral sex, my first time making love for more than half an hour, my first time having several orgasms in a row. My first time doing it several times a day
! You're my teacher!" I thought to myself: "Thank you, Jing.
It's you who made me realize how wonderful it is to be a man!" When things calmed down, Jing would look at my face: "Guang, it's you who made me realize
how wonderful !" I smiled. I said I didn't believe her. Jing counted on her fingers: "You gave me so many firsts, like my first time
giving oral sex, my first time making love for more than half an hour, my first time having several orgasms in a row. My first time doing it several times a day! You
're my teacher!" I thought to myself: "Thank you, Jing. It's you who made me realize how wonderful it is to be a man!"

2016-7-6 13:12 #1

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As most men believe, a man must first have a career and talent before he can truly have a woman.
This is indeed a truth. If you are incredibly talented but penniless, I believe you will not have
the love you desire. For example, Du Fu led a life of wandering, poverty, and died alone on a boat. Therefore,
you can't find many poems about love among his many works. And is a life without love a complete life?

I have to talk about my career. Actually, a teacher doesn't really have a career. Only when what one does
can bring wealth can it be considered a career. Teachers, however, were excluded. The common people jokingly called teacher training
a "porridge major," which was quite accurate in those days. What could you do with a monthly salary of a few hundred yuan
besides eating porridge? Therefore, teachers were actually very self-conscious. While the general public
respected the teaching profession, they absolutely did not respect those who worked in it. This is a huge
irony. Han Han once satirized the teaching profession quite harshly—"Teachers are essentially
people trained in low-ability schools. When I was in school, only those with really bad grades,
no special skills, who didn't want to join the army, and who thought junior college sounded bad, chose teacher training.
Those who developed real skills in teacher training, or were very beautiful, or academically excellent, wouldn't choose to become teachers. So
, only those with really bad grades, no special skills, who didn't want to join the army, and
who thought unemployment sounded bad, chose to become teachers. Therefore, you can imagine how much ability a teacher could possibly have. For thousands of years, China has deliberately elevated
the status of teachers, finally reaching this completely incorrect position today." "To be honest, teaching
is just a profession, a way to make a living, no different in essence from being a taxi driver or a cleaner.
I was truly shocked when I first saw this statement. Perhaps it hit a nerve, but upon reflection, it might really be true in
big cities . And by the end of the last century, even those around me were not without such people.
Because of the extreme poverty in the teaching profession, almost no one wanted to become a teacher, at least not in a rural school.
So, this situation arose—among the children of teachers, some didn't do well academically, not even getting into a regular high school." Those who
couldn't even pass the entrance exams could, through their parents' connections, get a "gilded" education at a prestigious local vocational school and graduate to teach elementary
or even middle school. I once taught the child of a teacher who couldn't even read a single text fluently, yet he ended up teaching
Chinese—it was truly shameful!

Han Han was right, but that doesn't apply to me. You have to understand, in the early
1990s , the teaching staff in rural middle schools was incredibly poor, while universities back then were truly prestigious
institutions, halls of fame for the elite. How could ordinary farm children possibly achieve such success? Now, the teaching...
Inequality in education was still prevalent, but it was even more pronounced back then. Every year, very few students from our school could get into any university or
college , sometimes not even making it. I was first in my class in my first year's exam, but
it only got me into a vocational college. What was even more disheartening was that I wasn't admitted. Years later, I
learned that the admissions office had made a mistake when submitting the applications! The following year, I retook the exam and scored well above the undergraduate cutoff,
but inexplicably, I was admitted to a local teachers' college. Of course, I eventually enrolled,
because escaping rural life was considered a source of pride for my family at that time.

Fate always seems to favor the lucky while often crushing the unlucky. In university, I became the top student in
my class . Back then, there were two paths to success at our university. The first was to become a student leader,
which supposedly guaranteed a direct assignment to other departments during the job placement process (a sad state of affairs for the education sector; a
university primarily focused on education assigning its students to non-educational departments as a reward is perhaps a unique phenomenon in
China !). The second was to have exceptionally high academic performance, which guaranteed a direct transfer to a four-year university. Because of my
shabby clothes and lack of social skills, I couldn't hope for a student leader position, but I could focus on my studies! I devoted myself
to my studies, using the time others spent chasing girls, watching videos, and playing mahjong on my major. The library was
my go-to place. I didn't even hold a girl's hand during my three years of university. My grades were consistently first in my class.
However, in the final exam before graduation, I surprisingly came in third, while the top two students were
previously average students. Everyone knew I was unfairly treated—because those two students were
children of university professors. And there were only two direct transfer spots. I was heartbroken. I suddenly felt utterly hopeless,
and then I started skipping classes with the mischievous students in my class to watch videos and play mahjong. By the way, I
learned to play mahjong during those six months, a game I couldn't stop playing for many years to come, and it was precisely because of it that many discordant notes were added to my
life .

Fortunately, the year we graduated, the government still guaranteed job placement. The files of junior college graduates were sent back to the
local education bureau. But where we were assigned was up to the education bureau. No one in my family
had any connections in the education bureau. My fellow wolves, you probably know that in smaller places,
connections your father's connections" is a truly Chinese invention, very apt and
frustrating. My father isn't Li Gang or Li Shuangjiang; when I went to the education bureau and said my father was a farmer, nobody paid any attention.
In the end, I was assigned to the remote mountain village where I went to elementary school. As mentioned before, teaching and playing cards
are probably things a man with ideals and ambitions would disdain, right? But at that time, I had one last
meaningful thing to do—self-studying for a bachelor's degree. I was supposed to be pursuing a bachelor's degree in college, but I was betrayed.
I didn't want to improve myself through self-study; I just wanted to reclaim what I deserved.
But in that rural school, even a junior college degree was rare, let alone a bachelor's. My rebellious
nature was intolerable to the school leaders, who were constantly at odds with me. I taught the worst classes and lived in the worst dorms.
What's worse, the education bureau, to encourage rural teachers to pursue further education, instructed the school to implement a policy to reward teachers.
They said anyone who upgraded from a vocational high school to a junior college would receive 700 yuan, and someone who upgraded from a junior college to a bachelor's would receive 800 yuan (the
leaders probably didn't expect me to pursue a bachelor's). But when they heard I had completed all the bachelor's exams and was
preparing for my thesis defense, they suddenly called a meeting and announced the cancellation of the junior college to bachelor's degree reward, saying that our school was too small to accommodate such a great bodhisattva!
But when the town's high school actually wanted to transfer
me to teach there, the principal made all sorts of excuses. In the end, I had to win several hundred yuan in bribes and dinner before they'd sign off on my transfer
.

But even after transferring to the town high school, things didn't improve at all. My wife was pregnant and giving birth, we borrowed money to buy a house, and
my salary was only 700 yuan. "Poverty-stricken couples face a hundred sorrows"—that saying is absolutely true. So even now, I
still deeply understand the hardships my wife endured that most people couldn't bear. Because I know firsthand the suffering we went through back then.
I remember one year, shortly after the Spring Festival, my sister-in-law and her husband were leaving to work in another city. Before leaving, they stopped by our house for a rest. My wife asked me, "
My sister's leaving tomorrow, how much money should we give her?" I said, "You decide for yourself. I'd read a
story about giving someone 16.88 yuan as a farewell gift, meaning 'may you have a prosperous journey.'" Perhaps my wife had overheard me
mention this story. The next morning, at the station, I saw my wife handing her a handful of small bills to her
sister. Her sister actually accepted them. On the way home, I asked my wife, "How much money did you give your sister?"
She said, "16.8 yuan, I really can't find the 8 cents. Your salary won't be paid for a few more days, and we only have a few
dozen yuan left at home." I hugged her and murmured, "Wife, you've suffered so much." From that day on, I vowed, "Wife, I
will never let you suffer again. If you don't abandon me, I will never leave you."

So I thought of many ways. I asked my wife to learn hairdressing. Then I opened a hair salon at the school.
Whenever I didn't have classes, I would go to the shop to help my wife, washing students' hair or boiling water.
Then I opened a bookstore, selling teaching materials and renting books to students. Later, I expanded to selling stationery
and various sports equipment—basically, I sold whatever made money. After two years, I made some money until Qiong came back.
Even when I was running a shop in the city selling beauty products, I would deliver goods to customers on weekends. I remember one time it was snowing, and I was holding beauty products in one hand and the handlebars of my bicycle in the other when I fell face-first into the mud
on the street .
What happened next has already been recounted, so I won't repeat it here. I just want to say that even in
such difficult circumstances, I didn't give up on my profession. I read all sorts of books, participated in various teaching
competitions, and wrote various teaching papers. The students loved my classes, and I won the county's college entrance examination teaching
quality award for
two consecutive years. However, the infighting at the school was even worse than at my old elementary school. There was this constant scheming over scheduling, promotions, and selection processes. People were fighting
tooth and . I felt utterly disgusted by those leaders. I could
have the utmost respect for the hardworking veteran teachers in the school, but I despised the behavior of certain leaders—I even expressed my opinion publicly
: even if I'm a terrible teacher, I shouldn't have fallen to the level of a school leader! I don't know when
it reached the leaders' ears, but the following year I was assigned to teach some basic classes.

Before I turned thirty, my life motto was: "Misfortune has a habitual way of haunting me." This was life's
best advice to me, and it was also like a prophecy, buried in my destiny. I don't want to dwell on my misfortunes; I
firmly believe that people should live happily. No matter how many hardships or scars I endure, I will pick them up one by one and display them
in my beautiful dimples.

But Jing told me: Life isn't like that. Misfortune is your turning point, and I will bring you happiness.

Jing's eyes shone with maternal light.

"Stop playing cards all day, okay?"

"Stop wasting your time online, okay?" Jing looked at me gently. She continued, "Are you doing well at work?"
I shook my head painfully.

"You're wasting your life!"

During a QQ chat, Jing accidentally caught me telling dirty jokes.

"Is this where you use your talent?"

"Where do I use it? In the classroom? The school doesn't even let me teach Chinese!" I
said irritably.

"Why don't you try to find another place?"

"You're so naive! Don't you know how hard it is to transfer jobs these days? No money? No connections? Forget it!"

"Can you apply for unpaid leave? Last time we were browsing the internet, didn't we see
an ad for a university hiring Chinese teachers? Why don't we give it a try?" Jing said earnestly.

"Good heavens. What are you thinking? How could you possibly get the job? That's a swan's egg! What am I?
A toad!" I actually laughed at myself for finding such a ready-made and apt metaphor.

Jing suddenly snapped, "You can belittle yourself like that, but you absolutely cannot insult my judgment!"

Then she smiled gently, "Weren't you the top student in our class? You were so
confident back then!"

I said helplessly, "Yes, but I passed the university entrance exam that year, but I wasn't accepted, was I?"

"But you got in the following year, didn't you?" "

My God, you don't know! The following year I was just above the undergraduate university cutoff, and heaven knows, I was
accepted by a local teachers' college!"

Jing shook her head sympathetically. She stopped talking.

"I'm planning to apply for the job. Will I pass the written test? Even if I pass the written test, maybe
I'll be ? Even if I pass the interview, maybe I'll be rejected in the teaching demonstration? Even if I pass the teaching demonstration
, maybe—and—I'll be rejected for some reason?"

I spoke faster and faster, more and more excitedly.

Jing opened her eyes wide, looking at me, a hapless soul tormented by a life of disappointment who had lost all confidence.

Jing suddenly said, "But why were you so brave to pursue me? At that class reunion, so many classmates were surrounding me
! Wasn't I the white swan? But why did you fall for me?"

Yes, I remembered that at a class reunion, the dashing Liu confessed his
love . But you chuckled lightly, "Old classmate, you're drunk, don't talk nonsense. Everyone knows you like
Xiao Rongrong!! Everyone agrees, right?" Everyone burst into laughter, and the classmate, emboldened by the alcohol,
gave , "That's too humiliating, I'll go find Xiao Rongrong!" Then there was that pot-bellied, wealthy Xiao, with
a lecherous grin, "They say class reunions are all about ruining couples, Jing, you've
been , after the banquet, shall we go and pair up?" Jing said seriously, "Ha, you little rascal, you've made a bit of money
and you've become bad! Where did that shy, bald-headed Xiao go? Be careful, I'll tell my sister-in-law,
she'll be furious!"

Seeing me dazed, Jing quickly asked, "What's wrong?"

"Hehe, I was thinking, how did you, this swan, fall for this toad?"

"Haha, so you were thinking of a toad eating swan meat!" Jing laughed loudly.

"Hehe, she's quite a beauty! Come on, Jing, let me have a bite of your steamed bun!"

"Alright, alright, all you do is talk nonsense! I saw a quote the other day that said a person can be ordinary, but never
mediocre!"

I suddenly thought to myself, when did Jing start talking like a philosopher? But thinking about it carefully, it does make some sense!

"Which website is the job posting on?" I wondered.

Chapter Fourteen

The job posting was from a newly established higher
vocational college in a certain city (I can only say it's a municipality now). They needed several teachers to teach applied writing. I looked at the requirements, and it seemed like I
met them . So I sent my resume to the school. In the last few days of August, I received their
notification for an interview.

I told my wife the news. My wife was very happy and said that if I succeeded, she would come back to
be with and find some work in the city. Then we would bring our daughter to study here. We envisioned a bright future together.

I told Jing the news, and she encouraged me, saying that with your abilities, this position would definitely be yours
. But then, because the start of the next semester was approaching, Jing's husband came back to pick her up. They'd probably only stay
for a week before leaving together. They even checked out of the hotel. I suddenly realized that an illegitimate, improper relationship
is always inferior. It might be exciting, but ultimately, under someone else's legal guise, it reveals its own insignificance. But
Jing would still text me often, expressing her longing for me. She said she didn't feel anything during sex with her husband anymore. I asked why
. She said her husband still only lasted two minutes. She used to be used to it and could occasionally have a small orgasm. But after being with me for the past two weeks, she'd
gotten used to his rhythm. I said, "Jing, I miss you, what should I do? Can we do it
one more time before you leave?" Jing said there probably wouldn't be a chance. "Guang, don't be like this, I'll come back next year."

I remember the afternoon before my interview, I texted Jing. She said she was with her husband. I said, "You're so brave
!" She said her husband was playing mahjong, and she was sitting next to him watching. I said, "Jing, I miss you so much, can we go out?" Jing
said she missed me too, but this wasn't right. I teased her, "Jing, I remembered when we were in the bathroom, I licked your pussy with
my tongue ." But there was no reply for a long time. I gave up on the idea and quietly read my book.
But half an hour later, Jing sent a text message that shocked me: "Guang, what you just said
... I saw my husband touch the mahjong tile, and it made me think of your penis inside my pussy. Now my pussy
is so wet it's soaked my underwear." I said I didn't believe her, and asked her to go to the bathroom and take a picture and send it to me
. A little while later, a multimedia message arrived, showing a close-up of a wet pussy. Then Jing texted me...
Let's have dinner together that night, as a send-off for my job interview.

When I arrived, a large group of people were drinking at a riverside beer stall. My arrival made the
atmosphere very awkward—most of my friends knew about my relationship with Jing. When Jing saw me, she warmly grabbed me
and introduced me: "This is my husband. He's been wanting to meet you for a long time, saying you're a talented man." My face flushed,
and I secretly admired Jing's composure under pressure. But I had to maintain appearances, so I extended my hand to shake
hands with her husband, saying things like "Nice to meet you." Jing then arranged for me to sit next to her. So, Jing's
husband sat to her right, and I sat to her left. Because there were so many people, we were sitting very close together. The situation got a little out of control for a moment, but thankfully
everyone understood and started pouring drinks for Jing's husband. Jing's husband thanked everyone for their hospitality, saying that
everyone had taken good care of Jing during the past few months since she came back. Then he kept toasting me, saying that Jing often
mentioned me, and so on. I picked up my glass and took a big gulp when I suddenly felt someone pinch my thigh. I saw Jing
winking at me. I understood immediately. I took a sip of wine, held it in my mouth, then turned and spat it onto the floor. A moment later,
Jing's husband started slurring his words and begging for drinks. Suddenly, Jing reached her hand under the table and
groped between my thighs. I didn't hold back. I reached my hand back under the table, under Jing's skirt, and directly onto her underwear,
touching her bulging breast. I felt the thick wetness. Jing pressed her upper body tightly against the table, serving
me food while moving closer to me. My fingers slipped inside Jing's vagina from the edge of her underwear. Suddenly,
Jing's husband said to me, "Guang…Teacher, I…I'd like to toast you! Thank you…for taking care of…Jing." With my
right hand inside Jing's vagina, I hurriedly picked up my glass with my left hand and tried to clink glasses with Jing's husband
. Suddenly, my right index finger was completely inside him. Suddenly, Jing cried out, "Ah!" and dropped a piece of meat she was holding with her chopsticks onto the table. I quickly pulled
my hand back, picked up my wine glass, tilted my head back, and downed it in one gulp.

After a while, Jing got up and told her husband she was going to the bathroom. As she passed me, she gently
pinched me. I understood and immediately followed her out. We walked one after the other to the back of the bathroom, where
we embraced tightly and kissed passionately. Jing's tongue greedily sucked on mine. I pulled my pants
down to my ankles, and Jing pulled her skirt up to her waist, her underwear tucked to one side. She
leaped into my arms, wrapped her legs around my thighs, and I held her buttocks, my penis sliding into her wet, tingling vagina. This position
was a bit tiring, and because of the alcohol, I couldn't hold on for more than two minutes. Jing got off, sticking her buttocks out towards
me. I thrust into her from behind. Perhaps because of the alcohol, my penis was less sensitive. After more than ten
minutes without ejaculating, just as we were thrusting vigorously, we suddenly heard people talking in the bathroom.
Amidst the soft urination, a man's voice said, "You know, Jing and Guang have been out for so long, and
they Where could they be? Probably off having sex all night?" Another said, "That's entirely possible. Didn't you see
the way they looked at each other? Like they wanted to devour each other." At that moment, Jing suddenly trembled, her vagina
sucking on my penis like a goldfish's mouth, and I ejaculated a thick stream of semen. As my penis slid
out , before the semen had completely flowed out, she hurriedly straightened her underwear, crossed her legs, and pretended to be drunk,
asking me to help her back to the table. Jing's husband was genuinely drunk. He didn't ask where Jing had gone, and soon everyone
went home.

The next day, on the bus to the city, I texted Jing, and she said that her orgasm last night was incredibly intense.
She said her husband used his mouth on her last night, and I got jealous, saying that only I could do that. Jing said it was all for
her. I asked why. Jing said, "You know, he was drunk last night and wanted to, but his penis was always soft.
I hadn't showered, and there was still your semen inside me." I thought, "Let him taste your semen,
it's a reward for you, right? Think about it, you not only conquered me, but you also conquered the chief
accountant . Letting him taste your semen, you're pretty awesome, aren't you?

" I suddenly felt invincible. In that sweltering city, I had gone through so much trouble to
find that remote school. When I was trying my best to showcase my talent during the trial lecture, I saw my
competitors in the audience. The women were Jing, each one smiling seductively at me, and the men were Jing's husbands,
looking at me blankly. I found a sense of conquest. Every transition in the class felt like a
passionate , natural and breathtaking.

When I finished my trial lecture, the audience erupted in enthusiastic applause. The head of the teaching department handed me a small
note: You can go back to your hometown right now.

I was disappointed, but then he said, "Pack your things, come to work on September 1st!"

A huge flood of happiness instantly overwhelmed me; I couldn't breathe. I wanted to cheer to the whole world—
I had succeeded!

But the first person I wanted to call was still my wife. When she heard the news of my victory, she
choked up on the other end of the phone, saying, "Finally, you've made something of yourself. I'll come back right away, to be with you."

When I told Jing the news, she was already on the train home with her husband. She breathed a long
sigh of relief and said, "Indeed, I didn't misjudge you. My dear, you're amazing, I love you."

Chapter Fifteen:

Dad started holding his head high in front of the villagers again, trying to boast about his son. He said I was teaching at a university, and
my salary was much higher than before. The school was newly built, with a very impressive name—something like the Science and Engineering College—and
it was a higher vocational college. The location was quite remote, situated in a low-lying area on the outskirts of the city,
surrounded by mountains and vegetable fields. Now I understand that the school's true nature was that a few wealthy business owners
invested , affiliated it with some reputable universities, recruited students who had failed the college entrance exam,
hired teachers (including some current university professors working part-time), and then charged exorbitant tuition fees, allowing the owners to reap huge profits. The more students,
the more money the owners made. The business model was entirely based on maximizing profits.
We teachers were merely employees in this company, and our worth was judged solely on our ability to retain students.
If we couldn't retain students, we faced the constant threat of being laid off.

There were five teachers teaching applied writing, three men and two women. They were all excellent teachers; except for me, they were all graduates of
top universities' Chinese literature departments. Living there, I felt immense pressure. However, after a few weeks, I discovered that
because of my literary expertise, the students enjoyed my lectures, and I deliberately dedicated the last few minutes of each class to them.
Zhong Li told literary anecdotes, mostly love stories—the tale of Lu You and Tang Wan, the Romance
of the Western Chamber, the love stories of the Four Beauties—basically, both official and unofficial histories, focusing on the emotional and interesting ones, which captivated
the students . Winning over the students meant winning the job, so I taught more and more classes,
eventually squeezing out a colleague. The office became two men and two women, but the two women were utterly
unremarkable ; one was married, and the other had never even had a boyfriend. They both looked like someone owed them a warehouse full of rice.

My wife, as expected, returned. After being gone for over a year, she was still as beautiful as ever. I had a
room , and my wife took care of my needs while looking for work in the city. Every night, during our intimate
moments, I would ask her about her relationship with Liang. My wife had learned her lesson and usually kept quiet.
But she couldn't resist my persistent questioning and gradually revealed some things, including that on the very night she went to Ningbo, Liang
had slept with her twice. Then he arranged for her to stay with one of his lovers. Her lover was a prostitute. Later
, for some reason, she and Liang had a falling out, and Liang even
confiscated . After finally finding a job, she broke off all contact with Liang. She didn't ask for her documents back. She didn't
earn much money that year.

I was skeptical, but when my wife was looking for work in the city, she kept going to places like foot massage parlors and
bathhouses. I felt something was off, and my wife laughed at me for being old-fashioned, saying that these were perfectly normal
jobs . (Last year, one of the "Ten People Who Moved China" was a foot massage girl named Liu Li.) So I started
to suspect my wife's job in Ningbo might not be the electronics factory she described. Maybe it was some kind
of service industry like foot massage. But why did Liang confiscate her documents? Considering she lived with that prostitute, I
couldn't help but get goosebumps—was she working as a prostitute? Thinking back to her previous statements that
being a prostitute wasn't shameful, I felt a chill run down my spine. But I immediately dismissed my own idea, because
women can get rich by turning bad, and she didn't have any money. I didn't ask. Actually, I thought, even if I found out the truth, what difference
would ? For example, those things before we got married—I asked, but did I feel happy?
It would just be pointless. Now that we have a child, we can't easily break up this family. We can only be like
two helmsmen on a lone boat, protecting our child and bravely navigating the storms of life.

When my salary came in that month, my wife was heartbroken. She thought it would be three or four thousand, but it was only
two thousand and ten. Although it was double what she earned in school, our living expenses were much higher. So
it was far from what my wife expected. My wife often complained,
and To make matters worse, my wife became pregnant again unexpectedly.

The abortion and post-operative care cost me all my salary. And we still have a daughter back home,
being raised by her parents. My parents were showing off my so-called "promotion" everywhere, but the truth was that I
was penniless. I called my father and told him I would definitely send money home next month. The school is withholding
salaries to prevent the loss of excellent teachers.

There was a popular saying recently: "Ideals are lofty, but reality is harsh." I think I
truly understood the meaning of that saying back then. What's even more frustrating is that my
wife found my text messages with Jing on my phone. I felt like I was going crazy. I felt like I wasn't human; my wife's body was already
weak after surgery, how could I hurt her emotionally?

My wife called and immediately launched into a tirade. Jing calmly said, "We're just old classmates.
Your husband told me some things about you before, and I felt you didn't cherish him enough. Now that you
're together, I won't bother him anymore." My wife became embarrassed, but still wanted me to confess.
I told her everything about Jing, including having sex with her. My wife burst into tears.

She finally said, "Guang, I know I'm sorry. I don't have the right to demand your fidelity,
but I'm still upset." Listening to you, I feel Jing is a good woman. She can't understand our suffering because
she hasn't experienced it. Also, I wish she could help us. I comforted her, "Wife, we must have
ambition; our family will definitely get better." My wife said, "I don't care about your affairs anymore. A few days ago, Sasha
called ; she married a rich man in the steel business and asked me to transfer there. I think I should stay with Sasha;
we can earn money and buy a house in this city. Think about it, what can you do with your current salary besides your own and our daughter's
living expenses ? You can't even buy half a square meter!

" My wife eventually returned to Ningbo. Jing also knew I was living alone again, and her husband had long since
gone to work on a railway project. My relationship with Jing warmed up again; we texted
each other , and at night, after Jing put our daughter to bed, she would chat with me on the computer until very late. Sometimes we
would talk about sex, and I would passionately tease her. Jing couldn't resist and would stretch out her body in front of the computer
, letting my eyes and body experience a burning passion! More often than not, we'd
strip naked, lie in bed, holding the scalding hot phone, whispering sweet nothings,
releasing our long-suppressed desires with moans and growls!

We'd already started planning a perfect reunion!

Chapter Sixteen:

Jing was growing increasingly fond of me. Perhaps it was because distance made lovers miss each other even more; though we were
worlds apart , it felt like we'd never left. Every morning, Jing's text arrived: "Piggy, wake up!"
Every night, we'd drift off to sleep to each other's goodnight wishes. Then, I don't know when it started, Jing's "
goodnight " became a series of pinyin letters. "wanan." I initially thought it was just a minor input method error, but later
I realized it was intentional. After much questioning, she said: "w represents 'I,' a represents 'love,' and n represents 'you,' so it
means 'I love you, love you.'" Wow, I never imagined such an ordinary word would have such a profound meaning for Jing
. From then on, I never said goodnight to anyone I chatted with online. On Christmas Eve 2006, I lost my phone.
A few days later, Jing sent me a very popular LG phone called "iChocolateYou". It was a
black slider phone. Every time I slid it open, a sweet girl's voice would say "iChocolateYou",
and I would think of Jing's kisses as sweet as chocolate and her love as rich as chocolate.

But not long after, a colleague named Xiao Du moved into my dorm room. He was a short man from Hunan, and
not particularly handsome. Xiao Du had found a girlfriend online who lived in our city, so he quit his job in Nanjing
and came to work here. Young people like to get along, and within a few days, they became close. Since we all liked playing
mahjong , we would get together with a few colleagues after work in the afternoons to play a little mahjong and pass the time.
Sometimes I really admired Xiao Du, saying he was willing to give up anything for love. Xiao Du said his girlfriend, Xiao Lin, was still studying at a university
in the city and was about to graduate. He also secretly told me that she would be moving in with him soon. I
said it wouldn't be convenient for me to live here. Xiao Du said it was fine, he would cover the bed with a curtain.

My communication with Jing became less convenient. Xiao Du and I sat facing each other, at a table, with two
computers back to back. Before, when I was alone, Jing would say, "Guang, come here, let me see my penis," and I could shyly let her
see my genitals. But now I can't, and I can't call the hotline in bed at night anymore.

One night, when I returned to my dorm after playing mahjong, I found Xiao Du with a woman
. Xiao Du enthusiastically introduced her to me, saying this was Xiao Lin, his girlfriend. I was surprised to find that Xiao Lin
was much taller than Xiao Du, and quite voluptuous. She was also pretty. I knew why Xiao Du had given up a well-paying job in Nanjing to come
here and teach. I would have done the same! Xiao Du's bed was already covered with curtains. My bed
was opposite his, with a table in between, and two computers on the table. It didn't seem like anything was wrong.
Obviously, they had already made love before I came back. I found several sheets of
toilet paper in the trash can next to their bed, and Xiao Lin's face was flushed, looking very shy.

That night, I texted Jing and told her about the current situation in my dorm. Jing felt sorry for me, saying that it must be
so agonizing for a grown man like me to listen to sex music! Then she jokingly warned me, "You can't
do anything stupid in the middle of the night." Wait a little longer, I'll be back. We'll do it on this bed too, and have a contest with them to see who
lasts the longest and whose moans are the best. But that night was very peaceful; I didn't hear anything. The next few
nights were also uneventful.

When young people get together, once the conversation starts, Xiaolin and I quickly become like old friends. The three of us cook
together and go shopping together. Sometimes when Xiaodu and I came back from class, there would already be a few simple dishes on the table
. Although the portions weren't large, they tasted quite good. Xiaolin seemed to enjoy these moments very much. Sometimes when Xiaodu
wasn't around , Xiaolin and I would chat about relationships, and Xiaolin would talk a lot about the past, including how she and Xiaodu
fell in love online. I was very curious and said that online relationships usually don't last once they meet in person, but I didn't expect you two
to become so close. Xiaolin said that she had broken up with her boyfriend in class, and then she happened to chat with Xiaodu, and
they got together after a while. Xiaolin asked about my romantic history, and I briefly told her about my relationship with Jing. Xiaolin was very
envious , saying that it was rare for you two to love each other so much, even though you each have your own families. I said, "That's what they call 'bittersweet
happiness.'" Xiaolin said, "No wonder I read so many of your posts on social media; they're all written so subtly and affectionately
. Are they all for Jing?" I just smiled. Xiaolin asked, "Do couples drift apart after marriage?" I said, "Maybe." Xiaolin said, "
What you've said makes me afraid to get married. Also, your writing is really excellent."

Finally, one night, I was woken up by a small argument. I noticed the bed was moving a lot. I
thought they were making love. After listening quietly for a while, I realized it was an argument. Apparently, Xiao Du had come here to work, making
a lot of sacrifices, and now Xiaolin was having trouble finding a job. They were talking about marriage and disagreed on things—I didn't quite
understand . Later, it escalated into a physical fight, and finally, I heard low sobs. I thought to myself, "Sigh,
it seems like most things in this world don't go as planned." Everyone has their own misfortunes. A person shouldn't
hold onto their own small misfortunes and feel like the whole world is unfair to them. Think about what you have. I
thought of Jing, my wife, my parents and my lovely daughter, and this unstable but
highly regarded position in the eyes of my former colleagues. I realized that life isn't as bad as I thought.

The next day, I saw Xiaolin with red and swollen eyes, but she still cooked a delicious meal for me and Xiaodu. Xiaodu
seemed still upset and didn't say much all day. Because Jing and I had arranged to chat online that night, we didn't
go out. Xiaodu, however, left Xiaolin early and went out to play mahjong alone. Xiaolin and I sat facing each other
online . I saw that Xiaolin seemed very unhappy and downcast. I wanted to comfort her but didn't know how to start. I wanted to
chat with her on my QQ, but I couldn't mention what happened last night. If I did, it would mean I
had overheard their conversation, which would be too embarrassing. Suddenly, I had a bright idea. I logged into an old QQ account,
changed my profile, and added her.

We chatted casually for a few minutes. Then I suddenly said, "I have special abilities. I know a lot about you." Xiaolin
was clearly surprised. After fiddling around for a while, perhaps checking some information—luckily, I had hidden my IP address—she asked, "
You can tell fortunes?" I casually mentioned a few things, like height and hairstyle, and of course, I got them all right. Xiaolin then chatted with me
with great interest . I took the opportunity to cheer her up, and her mood obviously improved. Suddenly, she said, "I
feel like your tone is similar to the person sitting across from me." I had a sudden inspiration and said, "Is there someone sitting across from you?" I was
n't sure about that. She said, "I'll go check." As soon as she got up, I hurriedly logged off QQ and casually
chatted with Jing. I glanced up at her and said, "Little girl, don't peek." Xiaolin glanced at my desktop,
saw that I had only logged into QQ, and then went to the bathroom. When she came out and sat down at the computer, my
QQ account was already logged in quickly. Thank goodness for the internet speed back then; our internet cable was directly from the school's internet cafe
, which was really fast. We continued chatting casually. For some reason, I asked her, "
What's that guy across from you like?" She said he was a handsome and talented man. I asked, "Do you like him?"
She said, "Yeah, a little bit." I was speechless. She suddenly asked, "
It's strange that you care about men but not me." I said, "I know you very well. Anyone sitting in front of the computer
chatting with me is basically naked—I have no interest." Haha. Xiaolin said, "You're amazing!
I'm even afraid to chat with you now." I felt I had achieved my goal. Considering she cooks for me every day,
making her happy was enough. I didn't think about any deeper meaning.

That night, I didn't know when Xiao Du came back. In the darkness, I was awakened by a small
noise . This time, I realized they were indeed having sex across the street. Perhaps it was because the young couple's sex was more
intense after their argument. I heard Xiao Lin's suppressed moans and Xiao Du's heavy breathing. My penis immediately
became erect, and I listened even more intently to the subtle sounds across the street. I heard Xiao Du's low growl as he ejaculated, I
could feel Xiao Lin frantically grabbing toilet paper from the bedside table, and I heard Xiao Lin's soft complaint, "Why is it
always like this? I'm not done yet." I only heard Xiao Du say, "I don't dare let you reach orgasm, your moans are too loud, they'll
wake up Teacher Guang." I thought to myself, "Ugh, you've already woken me up, do you even want me to live?"

For the next few days, I would log onto that QQ account and chat with Xiao Lin. When Xiao Du was online,
I preparing lessons or grading homework, and Xiao Lin would say without any hesitation, "I've found that she's actually quite open-minded, she talks about everything."
I continued to play the roles of fortune teller and counselor, gaining Xiaolin's complete trust.
When , I tried to talk about sex. Xiaolin was initially a bit resistant, saying there was a handsome guy sitting opposite her, and she couldn't
talk about it. I said I'd already figured it out, so it was fine if she didn't want to talk about it, which piqued her interest,
and she started asking questions. I embellished what I'd heard from her, leaving her quite
bewildered , and she even corrected me on some points. For example, she said she had two boyfriends before Xiaodu, not just one.
(Goodness, she only told me about one, so it seems sometimes the same person can give different accounts!)
She also said that short people have small penises, like Xiaolin. I joked that the guy opposite her must be tall, and his penis must
be long. She said, "That's for sure." I was shocked; was she spying on me while I was using the bathroom? Then she typed
a message that relieved me: "He has a high nose bridge, and I've heard that men with high nose bridges have long penises." I said, "Let me
calculate again. Aren't you not very satisfied with sex with Xiao Du at night these days?" She said, "How did you know?" I said, "I
can calculate. I even calculated that when you're alone with that handsome guy across the street, don't you always think about him?"
After I finished speaking, I called her, casually got up to stretch my limbs, and then went to her side to tease her, "Who are you
chatting so enthusiastically?" I saw her hurriedly hide the chat page, her face turning bright red. I went to the bathroom.
When I sat down, I opened the chat page with her, and one line immediately made my penis hard: "Yeah
, every time I'm alone with him, I always think about him. Sometimes I even wet my underwear. A few times when I
got up to go to the bathroom at night, I really wanted to sleep in his bed."

I said, "You're crazy!"

Actually, I felt like I was the one going crazy. I didn't dare close the door because I didn't know when Xiao Du would come back, and
I absolutely couldn't do anything. And my longing for Yu Jing grew stronger every day. I felt like a lake
full of spring water, ready to overflow with the slightest breeze. It was more like a suppressed fire, ready to engulf my
entire body in flames at any moment.

One day, Xiao Du went out again, and as usual, Xiao Lin and I sat facing each other and started chatting.
We started with fortune-telling again. Today, Xiao Lin said, "You're so good at fortune-telling, can you tell me what color
bra I'm wearing today?" I said, "That's easy. But do you have a video? If not, I won't guess." Xiao Lin quickly said she did. Today, after showering,
Xiao Lin was wearing a set of pajamas, and by observation, she only had two bras, one red and
one black. The red one was still hanging on the balcony outside. Of course, it was black. I said,
"Turn on the video and point it at your chest, or you'll cheat." Xiao Lin obediently turned on the video and pointed it
at her chest. When I typed "black" on the screen, I saw Xiao Lin cover her
chest in surprise, as if I had seen right through her. Xiaolin said, "You're amazing! How could you know what color my underwear
is?"

This really stumped me, because I genuinely didn't know how many underwear she had.
Different colored underwear often hung on the balcony, but I think I'd seen yellow ones a few times. Maybe she had several yellow underwear.
But I couldn't easily ruin my "fortune teller" reputation. I had to be careful. I said, "If you dare
show your breasts in front of that handsome guy across the street, I'll settle this with you." Xiaolin firmly said no. I knew that was definitely not going to work.
But she actually said, "I can let you see my nipples through my pajamas." I was instantly excited. I
asked, "How?" She said she was going to the bathroom right away to take off her bra. I said, "Okay, but please don't let that
handsome guy see." Xiaolin carefully observed my movements. I yawned repeatedly and rubbed my eyes. Xiaolin
quickly stood up and went into the bathroom. Then I watched her come out carrying a bag, hunched over, stuff the bag onto the bed
, and sit back down at the computer. I saw her give me a victory sign. The video was focused on her chest,
her two nipples pressing against her clothes. Good heavens, so full, such huge peaks! I usually don't
dare look directly at them. Now I stared greedily at the screen, imagining how voluptuous and high they were beneath her clothes,
so full of vitality. I was so desperate. I hurriedly closed the video and told her, "I really want to fuck you.
" She said, "If you can guess the color of my underwear, I'll find a chance to video chat and have sex with you. When my boyfriend and that
handsome guy on the other end aren't around, I'll give it to you." They sometimes go out to play mahjong together.

From then on, I looked for opportunities. But nothing came of it. When I wanted to leave, Xiao Du wouldn't leave. Maybe he
was just waiting for the right moment so they could have sex while I was gone. Finally, when they left together, they
couldn't leave the mahjong table. I was incredibly frustrated. Jing clearly sensed that my passion for her wasn't what it used to be. She asked if I
had a new lover. I said no, it was because the young couple across the street were there, and I couldn't express my love. I've
discovered men are truly insatiable, never satisfied. Even if they possess the most beautiful woman in the world, once
separated by distance, they'll seize every opportunity to hunt again. The first thing I do every morning is
research what color underwear Xiaolin should wear that day. After a week, I've
figured it out .

Finally, one night, while Xiao Du, two colleagues, and I were engrossed in a mahjong game, a super-addicted mahjong player arrived
. I quickly invited him to join, and he readily agreed, sitting down in my seat and starting to play. No one
dared to say anything. I watched for a while, then slipped out to a very secluded internet cafe outside the school,
where I booked a private room. Then, trembling, I turned on the computer and unplugged the webcam. I logged onto my QQ account... Xiaolin...
She seemed to be really looking forward to my arrival. When I suggested we guess the color of her underwear, she said, "Today is your
only chance. They're all out of the dorm. If you guess right, I'll grant your wish.

" When I told her the color of her underwear, Xiaolin was completely convinced. But she said, "How can you make me
feel something? You don't have a video." I said, "I'll use text." Of course, I'm very good with text. But I
hate typing while looking at someone's sexy parts. By then, I was a long-time
user I remembered a very seductive article in the literature section. So I logged into 365, found the article
, and pasted it into a document. Then I asked Xiaolin, "Who do you want to sleep with?" Xiaolin hesitated for a moment and said, "
Mr. Hikaru." My blood immediately boiled. I quickly replaced all the male protagonists' names in the document with "
Mr. Hikaru" and the female protagonist's name with Xiaolin's. Then I sent it to Xiaolin in long paragraphs.

"...Mr. Hikaru's tongue was already gently licking Kobayashi's pink nipples..." Kobayashi unbuttoned
her shirt and bra, revealing her large breasts to the camera. Her breasts were
comparable to my wife's, and even firmer due to her youth.

"...Mr. Hikaru's hand slid down her smooth abdomen, past her round, delicate navel, and stopped at the edge of
Kobayashi 's pubic area..." Kobayashi's hand began to knead her mons pubis. I could see the erection of her clitoris.
I saw Kobayashi passionately part her tender pink labia and insert her middle finger into her vagina.

"Kobayashi, quickly find something Mr. Hikaru can put in your pussy?"

Kobayashi got up and looked around, finding a pen on my desk.

I saw Kobayashi forcefully insert my pen into her wet, muscular vagina.

"Kobayashi, look again, can you find something bigger?"

Kobayashi found a disposable lighter next to my pillow.

I saw my lighter rapidly moving in and out of Kobayashi's vagina. I was worried it might suddenly explode.

"Xiaolin, do you have any bigger ones?"

Xiaolin found a cucumber. I remembered I bought it this morning, and it was the last
one I hadn't finished at noon. It was very big and long.

"Xiaolin, come on, think of this as Teacher Guang's penis, and thrust it into your pussy hard!"

Xiaolin reached orgasm in a few minutes under the thrusting of the cucumber. I also quickly went to the internet cafe toilet and ejaculated.

I went back with Xiao Du that night, and Xiaolin was already fast asleep. We woke her up, and I said I was so hungry,
was there anything to eat?

Then I found the cucumber and pretended to put it in my mouth. Xiaolin suddenly said, "Aren't you going to wash it?"

I said, "I washed it at noon." Then I started to eat it.

Chapter Seventeen

Those few days, I, who was used to typing, started to like handwriting. Holding the fountain pen, I prepared lessons and graded homework more diligently.
The faint smell of the fountain pen had actually dissipated. But when I thought of Xiaolin passionately thrusting my
fountain pen , it still made my heart race. I noticed Xiaolin's gaze towards me had changed—
maybe it was just my imagination—I hadn't logged into that QQ account for several days. I felt I should calm
down; Jing would be back soon, and I couldn't afford to act recklessly like this. I thought that as long as Jing was there, I could resist
all temptations.

I started writing, and inspiration flowed freely. I even created
my own . It was a very strict website; whether it was poetry, prose, or fiction, it required
extremely high literary value to be approved. Jing, of course, was my first reader. Under my articles,
Jing always commented like a loyal fan. But my wife was dismissive. Sometimes I suggested
she look at my articles. Her answer was: "Does that get paid?" I was heartbroken. To be honest, those kinds
of articles didn't get paid. Even if they were published in magazines, they were only a few thousand words long, and the payment was
meager. But Jing was different. She would laugh heartily while reading, and sometimes she would shed tears. She even considered
writing down some of our little stories, but later gave up because she couldn't express them well.

Problems started to arise at the school. First, the students' quality was too low (almost all of them failed
the college entrance exam), making it very difficult for the teachers. Then, the school's management disagreed on future development.
A group of profit-driven businessmen running education—the result was predictable. Then came the upcoming
enrollment targets, and the school's survival was precarious. The teachers were all making plans for the future.
Some were preparing for postgraduate entrance exams, others for civil service exams. As for me, a current teacher, my worst-case scenario was returning to
my old public school. But wouldn't that be embarrassing? What would my colleagues at school think of me?

My wife told me that Sasha had opened a foot massage parlor. She was put in charge of management, and sometimes, when there weren't enough staff, she would personally
massage customers' feet. The salary was quite high, close to 3000 yuan a month. I said, "I heard some foot massage parlors
offer sexual services. Does your place offer that?" My wife said, "Of course not, don't
get the wrong idea ." She told me to focus on my work, stop playing mahjong, save my salary and send it back to my parents
. I'll send you living expenses too.

When my wife is bored, she goes to internet cafes, and I make her turn on her video, sometimes even making her do
something seductive. My wife feels sorry for me being alone at school and asked how I manage
. I said, "It's all thanks to my 'five fingers' (female hand)." I asked, "What about you? Do you often sneak around while washing customers' feet
?" My wife said, "How could that be? We have people who do that in our shop. I only do management.
I only help wash feet when we're really busy." She held out her hand for me to see;
the second joint of her index and middle fingers was noticeably swollen. She said, "That's the consequence of washing feet so often." I
felt was bleeding. But that's life; behind every incompetent man, there's a pitiful
woman. If my wife hadn't married me, but instead married a civil servant?
The kind who receives tens of thousands of yuan in gifts every holiday?

Once, my wife asked me how my relationship with Jing was. I answered truthfully, saying we were in frequent contact by phone
. My wife gets jealous, so I try to cheer her up, telling her she's the most beautiful woman in the world, forever the softest spot in my heart
. Actually, that's my truest feeling. Although my wife is somewhat promiscuous sexually,
she's a family-oriented woman. She knows the situation at the school, and staying there isn't a long-term solution. But...
She didn't approve of me going back to a public school. Even if I were to go back, it should at least be to the county town, because our daughter would be
starting elementary school soon, and the conditions there were much better. I thought that was a good idea. But I knew that in that small place where
connections money mattered, getting into the county town was practically a pipe dream. My wife once said, "I think Jing has a
relative in the county education bureau, why don't you ask her for help?" I said I'd think about it later. Maybe it would work.

Time flew by, and Xiaolin was about to go back to school for her thesis defense. Xiaodu also planned to resign and return to Nanjing
to develop her career; they had agreed that Xiaolin would go to Nanjing after graduation. Xiaolin is still on my QQ list. But
it seems like we haven't spoken for over a year. I only know that she and Xiaodu are married, have a child, and own a shop
; they seem quite happy. In this novel, Xiaolin is probably the only girl I didn't have any physical intimacy with,
but I'm glad, because I don't consider myself the kind of person who would disregard everything for desire.
Men , like women, should prioritize protecting their bodies over their inner boundaries.
Now, in my memory, Xiaolin leaves no deeper impression beyond novelty and excitement.

Summer vacation hadn't even started when Jing planned to go back to her hometown early. She had agreed to stay with me for a week,
passing through our city on her way home. Those days waiting for Jing's return were both sweet and agonizing. When I finally
saw the graceful Jing standing before me in the airport terminal, we embraced tightly, kissing passionately,
oblivious to the strange looks from the passing crowd. Back in our small dorm room (by then, Xiao Du
had already resigned and left), we eagerly stripped each other naked, wanting to devour each
other . Jing's vagina was still the same as before, like a ripe peach, bursting with juice at the slightest touch. Within minutes,
we both climaxed. Then we quietly embraced, and Jing asked me, "Guang, how long has it been since you had
sex after your wife left?" I said, "Never." Jing didn't believe me, saying I must have gone to a prostitute. I said, "
Which prostitute do you think is good enough for me?" Jing thought for a moment and said, "Yeah, that's true." I asked, "What about you?" Jing said her husband had only
come back twice, each time for a few days. You know, he's short-lived, and every time I made him use a condom. "Hehe,
my pussy is reserved for you! Every inch of my pussy is clean and reserved for you! Guang,
I love you so much!" I said, "Jing, I love you too, my cock is reserved only for you." That night, we
made love almost the entire time, and my body was so tired I couldn't move. But my cock was still hard, and Jing's pussy was red and swollen,
but still wet. Every time I ejaculated, it would take a while for the semen to flow out. I wanted to get some toilet paper, but
Jing hugged me and said, "Don't get up, you're too tired. Let's go buy new sheets tomorrow."

The next day happened to be Saturday, no classes. We went to the supermarket and bought a lot of things, including new sheets and
a new duvet cover. While choosing things, I suddenly lost my footing and squatted down. Jing was startled, then realized
what had happened , laughed, and helped me up. Back home, after tidying everything up, looking at the brand-new
bedding, Jing said, "You get a good night's sleep. I'll cook you a meal, and I'll wake you up when it's ready."
I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep to the aroma of the food. When I woke up, I found Jing sitting by my
bed, gazing at me tenderly. I said, "It's ready? Why didn't you wake me?" Jing said, "Seeing you so
tired and sleeping so soundly, I couldn't bear to wake you."

We ate dinner and walked hand in hand on campus. My students were amazed, all saying, "Your wife is so beautiful!"
Jing smiled contentedly, snuggling closer. She said softly, "How I long for this kind of life,
a family all together in harmony. I do the housework, my husband comes home from work every day, we eat happily together,
and then we take a happy walk together." I said, "Actually, you can do it. Your family doesn't have any financial
pressure . Your husband could retire earlier, wouldn't that make it possible?" Jing said, "I don't have feelings for him anymore. If I
could do that with you, that would be perfect."

I didn't know what to say. But I knew for sure that I had heard Xiu say something similar before, and I was incredibly terrified
then . But when I heard Jing say it, I felt a faint longing.

Back in the dorm, Jing said, "You're not allowed to overwork yourself tonight. Seeing you squatting in the supermarket today
broke my heart." I said, "I had a good sleep, I'm feeling great." I went to kiss her, but Jing dodged,
whispering in my ear, "Do you think I'm made of iron? It still hurts a little here." She then guided my
hand to touch her mons pubis. I gently pulled off Jing's pants and underwear. Good heavens, that mound had become a huge
mound ! Her labia were red, slightly turned outwards, and obviously swollen. I spread her labia and saw a few
streaks of blood under her labia minora. I lovingly held her in my arms, whispering sweet nothings. Jing said, "This
feels good enough; we don't necessarily have to make love." Actually, most of the time, what women need is simply
a hug—a heartfelt, tight hug.

Jing was like a wife, cooking for me every day and taking walks with me in the evenings. I would even run back to my dorm during
the ten- just to get a kiss from Jing. A week seemed to pass in a day.
Happiness is always fleeting; parting was imminent. The next day, Jing was going back to her hometown. Although I would be going back for summer vacation, it
was only a short separation. But for lovers in the throes of happiness, parting is always bittersweet. On the eve of
our departure , we went to a hot spring not far from the school. It was a national-level hot spring resort. Every
Sunday evening, it was crowded, and there were also cultural performances. People could stand in the hot spring pools, soaking while
enjoying the shows. Jing and I were in the water; I carried her on my back, watching with great interest. We would kiss every now and then, and I would laugh
at Jing's boldness. Soon, a program required audience interaction and couples were needed, with prizes to be won. I urged
Jing to go with me. Jing initially refused, so I goaded her, saying, "You were so brave just now, but in front of everyone, you
're a coward!" Jing fell for it. Jing, along with several other couples, went up to the stage. The game involved placing small objects
on the ground , with the men carrying small baskets on their backs, and the women using their toes to pick up the objects
and throw them into the baskets. Whoever threw the most won. The game was simple, but when I saw the looks in the eyes of the men in the other
couples , I regretted it—their eyes kept glancing at Jing's lower body. I
realized that because Jing was wearing a swimsuit that was a size too small, while the other women's swimsuits had small
skirts , Jing's didn't. Even worse, Jing's mons pubis was prominent, attracting the attention of hundreds of spectators.
And the groove in the middle of her vulva was still clearly visible. My God! Jing was completely oblivious, still trying to pick up those little things
with throw them into my basket with her legs. Every time she lifted her leg, whether it went in or not,
a burst of applause would erupt. I was so anxious. These men's applause wasn't for the game at all;
it was clearly for Jing. Because I could clearly see that one of Jing's labia was completely exposed outside her swimsuit.

Finally, the game ended. The men were distracted and their coordination with their girlfriends was poor.
We won first place. Finally, the long-winded host finished giving out the awards. The audience actually shouted, "
One !" I was speechless. I quickly pulled and dragged Jing off the stage. Then we left the large hot spring pool
and went to a secluded pool where there were fish that would peck at our bodies. Jing giggled from tickling. I was in a bad
mood and didn't move. Jing sensed it and said, "Guang, what's wrong? It's just a temporary separation!" I
'll be waiting for you back home. Summer vacation is all ours! Then Jing leaned over and hugged me. I whispered in her
ear , "Everyone's seen your pussy!" In the dim light, I couldn't see Jing's face clearly. But I
could feel her shyness, and then she impulsively hugged me, saying, "They can only look, only you can...
fuck me."

It was quiet all around, the light dim and hazy. The fish, frightened by our movements, dared not disturb us
. My penis stood proudly erect underwater. Jing faced me, gently flipping up her swim trunks towards her thighs. My penis
slid down her thighs and into her pussy. I'd seen porn before, with scenes of underwater sex.
But actually doing it was quite difficult. We just quietly thrust in and out, letting my penis grind deep inside her.
It required a lot of effort to thrust in and out. Finally, I made Jing surface, sticking her butt out towards me, and thrust in and out a hundred times
before ejaculating inside...

After all that, I got home very late that night. Jing woke up late the next day, postponing her return home by another
day, and I had to go to class. While I was still lecturing, Jing's text message arrived: "I'm so bored in
the dorm myself! Honey, I'm so bored, can I borrow your QQ to go online?

"...

Chapter Eighteen

Today in the group chat, Brother Big Bad Wolf talked about hurting others. I said, "Between a lover and a wife,
it's impossible to please both. Hurting is inevitable." Brother Big Bad Wolf said: "The difference between unintentional and intentional is huge. Unintentional hurt
can eventually be forgiven. Kindness is a man's bottom line." I thought about it, and I consider myself kind. But those hurts
were absolutely unintentional, yet they really happened. Honey, can you forgive me?

If I could do it all over again, I would never tell Jing my QQ password. But back then, I
told Jing without thinking. When I finished my morning classes, whistling happily, and returned to the dorm, I didn't
see Jing; the dorm was empty. The computer was still on, and my QQ chat page remained frozen on the screen. I
saw it was my chat history with Li.

My dear wife: How are things between you and Jing?

Me: Not really. We still talk on the phone often.

My dear wife: I noticed your phone looks new. Where did you get the money?

Me: Jing gave it to me.

My dear wife: She's a rich woman, this little bit of money is nothing to her. Do you think she's prettier or I am?

Me: Of course my wife is prettier.

My dear wife: So, do you love her more or me more?

Me: Of course it's you. You'll always be in the softest corner of my heart.

My dear wife: How's your school doing?

Me: It's not doing well. I want to go back.

My dear wife: Absolutely not. People should strive for better things.

Me: Then what should we do?

My dear wife: I heard Jing has a relative in the county education bureau. Maybe she can help you?

Me: Okay, we'll see.

...

There's a piece of scrap paper on the table. There were a few lines of delicate handwriting on it, clearly Jing's: Guang, I'm leaving
. From the moment I saw this message, my tears haven't stopped. I never imagined you could be so vicious. I was so
blind , you heartless bastard! You know, everything I did for you was of my own free will,
but you took advantage of my love for you, only thinking of your own gain. You truly break my heart! This is the end!
You 're a pathetic and hateful bastard! Die!

I took out my phone, slid it open: "I'm Chocolate You," it was that same sticky female voice, but
this time it sounded more like a biting sarcasm. I dialed Jing's number, but it was off. I stared blankly at
the , my legs trembling slightly. I looked at the chat history. Every word transformed into a mocking
voice: "Despicable! Despicable! Despicable! Shameful! Shameful! Shameful!"

How I wanted to kneel before Jing, and have her slap me twice, then stomp on me. I suddenly
snapped out of it. Maybe Jing wasn't far away. I had to keep her by my side, I had to let her hear my
sincere repentance. I slapped myself hard several times, then rushed out of the dormitory and
ran towards the bus station leading to our hometown. A few familiar villagers were walking nearby. I asked breathlessly if
a slender girl with long hair had passed by. They said they thought there
was a long-haired girl on the back of a motorcycle.

When I arrived at the station, panting, there was no sign of Jing in the crowd! I asked the surrounding
passengers if there was a bus to X, and they said one had just left! God, Jing, is it really
over ?

In the following days, I tried calling Jing, but her phone was off; I sent text messages, but they went unanswered. And when I tried
to find her number on QQ, it was gone too. I knew Jing had blocked my number.
It was less than a month until summer vacation. My mother called to say that my child wasn't very obedient and often fidgeted in class.
His grades weren't good either. My father wasn't feeling well and often complained of stomach aches.

My father is a strong person; he usually just grits his teeth and gets through minor illnesses. I sensed something was serious. I
called him and told him to go to the city where my second uncle lives for a checkup. Soon after, the results came back: an enlarged spleen.
My father told me not to worry, saying it wasn't a big deal. But

I still found myself thinking about Jing late at night. I asked my classmates
back home, and they all said that Jing's attitude was very unusual when he came home this time. He either stayed indoors for days and couldn't be reached by phone, or he was constantly calling his friends…
She drank and sang, staying out all night. When drunk, she would alternate between crying and laughing, and no one could console her. "You'd better
come back soon; maybe only you can help her,"

I thought to myself. "Jing, I'm sorry. It's my fault that you're so heartbroken.

" I created a new QQ account, naming it "Squandered Love," and added Jing. She actually added me,
initially ignoring me, but her first question was: "Are you a teacher?" I hesitated, then said, "I'm not a teacher,
I'm a doctor." Jing said, "Even the best doctor can't cure my illness." I answered cautiously, and she
seemed to brighten up, becoming more talkative. I said, "Once, there was a beautiful love placed
before me. But I didn't cherish it." Jing said, "Ha, you're even playing 'A Chinese Odyssey' here!" I said, "No, really,
I squandered it. That's why it's called 'Squandered Love.'

" Jing suddenly asked, "Are you Guang?"

I hesitated. Her profile picture suddenly went dark. The second time I logged in, I couldn't find Jing's profile picture anymore
—I'd been blacklisted again.

I knew Jing would never forgive me! I didn't even have a chance to apologize to her.

Just then, my second uncle suddenly called: "Guangwa, your father's illness was
misdiagnosed. It's...it's pancreatic cancer...late stage."

Chapter Nineteen :

Has anyone experienced losing their parents? My father worked hard all his life in the countryside. Before
he could even enjoy a day of happiness, he grew thinner and thinner under the inhuman torment of cancer. When Li found out, she quickly packed
everything up and flew back to her hometown, while I also quit my job and went home. When my wife entered the door and saw my father so thin
, she immediately turned away, her eyes reddening, and she sobbed for a long time. In our eyes,
our father , had always been full of life. Who would have thought that one day he would become so frail?

My father's pancreatic cancer was the type unsuitable for surgery. The doctors said the cancer cells were concentrated in the valvular canal,
where numerous arteries were clustered. My father was already severely emaciated, so his chances of surviving the surgery
were extremely slim. My father knew his condition and resolutely refused surgery, saying that since he was going to die anyway,
he a complete body. We could only watch as my father slowly eroded his life—what could
be more painful than watching a loved one die? My mother cried every day, while I traveled daily between the countryside and
the city to get my father Demerol—a painkiller containing morphine—until even Demerol
became ineffective. My father's painful groans broke our hearts. My father could no longer lie down; it caused
excruciating pain. We had to take turns crouching behind him, letting him lean against our chests.
My wife also often sat behind him, his thin back pressed tightly against her full breasts.

When Dad announced his funeral arrangements in a weak voice, he said, "Guang, I'm at ease knowing you have Li. You
must take good care of Li!" We nodded, tears welling in our eyes.

When Dad died hopelessly, the whole family was plunged into endless grief. We set up a tent in front of the house, and all
the relatives arrived one after another. We began to arrange the funeral. Because of her grief, Mom
entrusted Li and me. I mainly handled receiving the relatives, while Li took care of the meals and other miscellaneous tasks. Li
showed her strong, capable side, arranging everything meticulously, while
maintaining the demeanor of a proper daughter-in-law in front of the relatives.

The evening after Dad's death, I was busy when suddenly a group of people approached from across the street.
Leading them was a graceful woman who seemed familiar. As she drew closer, my heart
nearly leaped out of my chest. It was Jing! Jing greeted me warmly, "Teacher Guang, I know about your family
situation . I brought the students to comfort you. Please accept my condolences!" I blushed, but
everyone came to shake my hand and offer their condolences. My eyes kept following Jing's gaze. Her
eyes were full of tenderness. My wife, who was in the inner room, saw the crowd outside and came out to stand beside me,
chatting with some classmates she knew. Jing saw Li and walked over confidently, saying, "
Teacher , please introduce me!"

I was a little flustered, but quickly composed myself: "This is my wife, Li."

Then, looking timidly at my wife, I said, "Wife, this is Jing."

Jing extended her hand, wanting to shake hands with my wife. Li's face turned pale, then flushed, and after a moment of hesitation, she ignored
Jing's outstretched hand and turned to leave. Several relatives watched this scene with surprise.

I looked at Jing apologetically. Jing whispered to me: I've won. Guang, come with me.

She led me to a quieter place. I stammered, "I'm sorry, Jing. About what happened before..."

Jing said, "Don't talk about that today, I've already forgiven you."

I said, "Also, as the hostess, Li was very rude."

Jing said, "It's nothing, she's just afraid of me." Haha, did I win?

I said, "I don't know what to say, anyway, thank you, Jing."

Jing took out a wad of cash from her pocket and said, "You'll need money during this time, this is five thousand yuan. I'm not afraid of being
used by you, this is my own choice."

I hurriedly declined, but Jing firmly said, "I've already forgiven you, we're still lovers, you know? How much I've missed you
these past few days?

" I nodded silently, "Jing, I've missed you too."

Jing said, "You should go now, we should go, anyway, your husband doesn't welcome me."

Jing then left. During the period

described in Chapter Twenty

, due to my father's passing, the regret of "the tree desires stillness, but the wind never ceases; the son wishes to care for his parents
, but they are no longer there," the burdens of funeral arrangements, and the taboos of rural customs, Li and I hadn't shared a bed. When everything was
settled and we became intimate again, the first couple of times were passionate, but later Li became indifferent. Perhaps it was
the pressure of life; in her melancholy state of mind, sex simply couldn't achieve the desired pleasure.

The issue of survival was once again on the agenda. After my father's death, the pillar of the family was gone.
Although could still attend public school at any time, my meager salary was a drop in the ocean, not a significant help to the family. My mother
insisted on staying in our hometown, where she could smell my father's familiar scent. And my wife? Should she return to Ningbo or stay home with my mother and
daughter?

In the end, Li decided that she would return to the city where I used to work to find a job; if she couldn't find a decent
one , even a foot massage wouldn't be out of the question. After all, it was much closer to home than Ningbo. As for me, I returned to the town's public...
I went to teach at the school, taking my mother and daughter with me. Since the town wasn't far from our hometown, my mother could go back each week
to look after the old house. As for me, I'd wait for an opportunity to transfer to a better place or find another way.

It seemed like that was the only option, I thought. Before summer vacation was over, Li went to the city to look for work. Not
long after , she said she'd found a job as a real estate agent. The commission was based on the number of houses sold, and the income was quite
considerable. Of course, I didn't know the specifics yet; I'd just work there for now. I also took my mother and child back to my old public
school to start my new job—although I felt a little ashamed, I found a good
excuse: my mother didn't want to come to the city with me because she was afraid it would be too far from home! My colleagues didn't say anything, and my
mahjong friends were happy, saying that with Guang back, our nightclub could start anytime.

When I returned, I learned that Xiu and her husband had already transferred from our school. I thought, perhaps our
past was finally known to everyone. Maybe it was for some other reason, I don't know.
It's fine, otherwise it would be awkward to run into each other all the time. I've been away from school for a year, and a few new teachers have come,
one of whom is named Yan, a music teacher. She's
only

in her early twenties, with a great figure, and I heard she used to teach dance at the school. All I know is that she comes from a very, very far place. Jing seems to have suddenly lost her former passion. She bought an apartment in the county town and spends her days indulging in pleasure.
Sometimes she'll call me over, mostly when she's drunk and says she misses me. Because my mother and daughter are there,
I don't dare to be too open, so the opportunities aren't many. Later, a friend told me that Jing was drinking with some male
friends at night, wandering the streets late into the night, and I even saw her with her arms around a male friend
's shoulder. I knew then that Jing had started to change, becoming promiscuous—was it because of that time she saw my chat history with my wife?

How I wish Jing knew that it was an unintentional mistake! No matter how poor I am, I would never think of gaining
anything from her. I admit, Li did have such thoughts, but I'm not a despicable person. I just
simply like her. Even with sex, only with Jing could I experience the ultimate male
pleasure!

My mother would take the children back to her hometown to visit the old house on weekends. Jing would still take a taxi
down to pick me up on weekends, we'd drink, sing, and make love. But the feeling had changed a bit. One time, Jing knew
I'd received my salary. She said to me, "Guang, I want some clothes, buy them for me, okay?" I took out most of my salary and
bought them for Jing. Jing was obviously very happy, then gave me the money for the clothes, saying, "Actually, I don't need them, I
just wanted to prove whether you're willing to spend money on me.

" My monthly salary is just enough for my family's living expenses. If I had extra money,
why buy things for Jing? A man's dignity seems to be more important than anything else. Although there was a reason,
Jing's doubt made me very depressed. But I love Jing, what can I do? Eileen Chang said, "When I meet her, I become very low, so low that I'm in the dust, but my heart is joyful, and I will bloom flowers
even in the dust ."
I believe that Eileen Chang's feelings for Hu Lancheng were genuine; otherwise, she couldn't have written
such .

I think, no matter how Jing treats me, I should be like a flower blooming in the dust, offering her my humble smile.
Jing became increasingly arrogant, increasingly haughty. She could
talk to her husband on the phone in front of me, sweetly and charmingly, trying to make him happy. I asked, "Does your husband know about us?" Jing said, "Of course not.
Only someone as stupid as you would let your wife know." Once, Jing and I were at home, cuddling and being affectionate, when her husband
's phone rang. She answered it, speaking softly and gently. I don't know what came over me, but
my hand, which was caressing Jing's breasts, suddenly tightened, pinching her nipple hard. Jing couldn't help but cry out, "Ouch!" Her husband on the other end probably
asked what happened, but I only heard Jing say, "I bumped into the door.

" Jing put a finger to her lips, signaling me not to speak. My hand didn't stop moving.

Jing suddenly said, "Honey, I missed you!"

"Honey, I've been back for so long and we haven't made love yet. Aren't I a good boy?"

I pulled down her skirt.

"Honey, I want to, come and fuck me!" she said, looking at me seductively. She
started kneading my crotch with one hand. My penis got hard.

"Honey, your penis is hard, isn't it? Come on, fuck me!"

I didn't hold back, pulled down my pants, and thrust in.

"Ah...honey, you're so good...ah, honey, you've fucked my pussy raw..."

I thrust hard, and Jing moaned and groaned. Maybe she was about to reach her climax. Jing gestured for me to thrust
harder.

"Honey, you're about to climax! Hurry, give it to me, I'm coming too!"

I was extremely excited, as if Jing's husband was right beside us, watching my penis thrusting hard
into his wife. After a few hard thrusts, I ejaculated inside. She obviously ejaculated too.

"Honey, come here, let your wife lick you clean!"

I quickly cleaned Jing's genitals with a wet wipe, then put my penis to her mouth, and Jing kissed it loudly
. My penis was covered in a mixture of Jing's vaginal fluid and my semen, but Jing still licked it with relish.

Afterwards, Jing said, "That was so exciting." When will you let your wife hear us making love?

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