Spring is deep and the whole city is locked up

Spring deepened,

and she gently drew back the embroidered curtains, slowly walking to the dressing mirror. In the gleaming bronze mirror, a stunningly beautiful face appeared, yet it bore a weary expression.

Even without makeup, she was confident in her beauty. Her hand slowly caressed her cheek, moving to her full breasts, lingering there passionately until she couldn't help but let out a soft, alluring breath.

Her ten slender, jade-like fingers seemed to possess a life of their own, exploring and slipping deep into the soft gauze of her skirt.

The secluded valley left her hands damp and slippery.

A thousand kinds of loneliness, to whom could she speak…

She gazed at her husband's portrait, tidied her slightly disheveled hair, and withdrew her hand, blushing. Her husband, who had died on the battlefield, had created his own world, leaving her alone with loneliness. Looking at the respectful eyes of the elders of Jiangdong, she could only bury all her sorrows deep within her heart. Her hands unconsciously caressed her long, straight legs, the echo of her husband's boisterous laughter from their wedding night seemingly replaying in

her ears. That night, her husband was intoxicated by her beauty, and she by his prowess. When his imposing body pressed against her delicate, spring-like form, she felt only satisfaction and joy amidst the pain. A radiant smile appeared on her face, a smile born of memories, and her fingers finally and resolutely slipped into the tight crevice of her flesh, carefully probing the entrance. She curled up her beautiful body on the large stool, pleasing herself.
As her juices flowed, her emptiness was temporarily filled. But with them came a deeper loneliness.

Her sister… she suddenly thought of her sister, waiting in the bedroom for her world-renowned husband.
It was hard to say which sister was happier. One had died on the battlefield, the other was busy all day. Her sister, living a life of widowhood, had little hope of survival; how much better off could she be than her? The two sisters, both renowned for their beauty, their unparalleled charm couldn't earn them a sweet whisper in each other

's ear. These past few days had been a time of celebration for their great victory over the enemy, yet these inexplicable thoughts of desolation arose, highlighting the loneliness in her surroundings.

She smiled bitterly, pondering tonight's private banquet. Would he come?

If he did, it would be just the two of them, brother and sister-in-law, drinking together. Even if all others were dismissed, she wouldn't be able to maintain her reputation as a virtuous woman. If he didn't come, the intense longing in her heart remained unexpressed. A contradiction? She mocked herself. "Adulterous woman," a cold voice in her heart condemned her.

She smiled faintly, shedding her elegant white attire. For that inner voice, she had kept herself dormant for too long.

This time, she only wanted to indulge. She didn't care about betraying her sister.

Her eyebrows were lightly drawn, her lips subtly touched with rouge. Her skin was like solidified cream, smooth as a mirror; her lips like newly ripened cherry blossoms; her eyebrows like distant mountains. Her eyes, brimming with light, seemed like two deep pools, drawing one in with unfathomable tenderness. A lightly tied gauze skirt, its sash slightly parted, revealed glimpses of her jade-like legs beneath the pale pink fabric, a touch of bright red on her toenails. The fragrance of balsam syrup alone was enough to captivate all.

She glanced at her attire, smiled, and shook her head. If he had seen her upon entering, knowing his nature, he would surely have turned away. She sighed, half-reproachfully, half-resentfully, and added a white robe over herself, concealing her beautiful figure and hiding the glimpses of spring in the room.

Entering the outer hall, she found everything prepared by the servants. The aroma of wine rose from the bronze goblets, stirring her heart. She must
have rested for a long time; the sky was already dark. She sat at the table, waiting quietly, just as she had waited for her husband on the battlefield on their wedding night.

He arrived, weary from his journey, his armor still bearing the marks of battle, but his eyes gleamed with joy.

She smiled; with his early success and now a victory that would ensure his lasting fame, his handsome face was radiant with pride. How could such a man not stir one's heart? She blushed slightly, shyly realizing that his imposing figure had already stirred a surge of heat within her.

"Uncle, please," she said, suppressing her inner turmoil and forcing a composed greeting.

He took his seat as a guest, a hint of confusion on his face. "Where are Zijing and Xingba? Didn't they come?"
Of course, she wouldn't tell him that he was her only guest tonight, the man who was both her uncle and her brother-in-law. "Zhongmou and his wife have some family matters to discuss with them; they'll be here shortly."
She raised a glass of wine, offered a toast, and took a small sip from her sleeve. The blush on her cheeks added to her beauty, almost mesmerizing him. Her sister's beauty was no less than his own, but it was a man's nature to always find something he hadn't yet possessed more appealing.

"If that's the case, then there's no need to wait. It'll be easier to talk when it's just the two of us, sister-in-law."
He picked up his wine cup, feigning indifference, and deliberately downplayed the matter of their time alone, before drinking it all in one gulp.

"Congratulations, Uncle, on such a victory! This feast is a celebration of your triumph."

With delicate hands, she picked out a few fish bones with chopsticks and placed a piece of fresh fish into his bowl. Intentionally or unintentionally, her wrist trembled, and the fish fell into the soup, splashing a few drops of oil onto her fair wrist. She exclaimed softly, glancing at him sideways, "Clumsy one, Uncle, please forgive my rudeness."

He involuntarily grasped her hand, rubbing the sore spot, then immediately released it, somewhat embarrassed, and laughed, "Sister-in-law, please forgive my abruptness."

She picked up another piece of fish and placed it in his bowl, saying shyly, "It's alright. Please stay a moment longer, let me apply some ointment. Uncle, please enjoy it. Such fine wine, for a woman like me, keeping it would be a waste."

She made a move to stand up, but suddenly her legs gave way, and she swayed to the side. He quickly stepped forward and caught her slender waist.

He blushed and helped her up, sitting back down. "Sister-in-law, be careful not to fall and hurt yourself."
She nodded slightly, then turned and gracefully walked into the back hall. He picked up his wine cup, his hand trembling slightly. He was only slightly intoxicated, yet his eyes were already bloodshot. His handsome face was filled with conflicting emotions.
Did he have no improper thoughts? He was only deceiving himself. After his elder brother's death, who looked at his sister-in-law without a hint of longing?

Could he truly give in to his desires towards this woman who was both his sister-in-law and his wife's elder sister? He pondered, then downed his wine in one gulp.

With light, graceful steps, her jade pendants jingling, she emerged from the inner hall, having removed her outer robe, reapplied her makeup, and restyled her hair, instantly capturing his attention. His wife was beautiful too, but she lacked this captivating charm. A fire instantly burned in his lower abdomen; the erection pressing against his hardened armor caused him a sharp pain.

"Uncle, please don't wear your armor during the meal."

Like a virtuous wife, she walked behind him, untied the belt of his armor, and gently removed it for him, as if she understood some discomfort he might be experiencing. Beneath the open lapel of his robe, his fine, muscular body glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, making her heart pound like a deer's. She couldn't help but imagine the immense pleasure such a powerful physique would bring her.

"Uncle, let me offer you another drink." She sat down beside him, her breath sweet as orchids, and whispered in his ear, trying to inhale his strong masculine scent.

He could hardly contain himself, especially after seeing her drunken, charming appearance. Her pure yet alluring, hazy yet beautiful form, like water, gently overwhelmed him. Even he, skilled in naval combat, was ultimately defeated by this water-like woman. He grabbed her soft hand, feeling its boneless softness.
"Uncle, you're hurting me," she said, her lowered eyes and shy demeanor enough to drive even a saint mad.
"Don't call me uncle," he said, picking her up and carrying her straight to the inner room. "Then, brother-in-law, could you put me down?" she asked

, her eyes gleaming with a hint of intoxication.
"You woman,"

he chuckled helplessly, placing her on the soft couch within the boudoir. He removed his robes and undergarments, standing naked before her like a god. "Tell me, who am I?"

Her eyes were filled with adoration and tenderness. His sash loosened, revealing glimpses of her moon-like breasts beneath his open robe. She lifted her upper body, hooking her arms around his neck, unconcerned that her slipping skirt betrayed her full breasts. She said, word by word, "Tonight, you are my god, my everything..."

Then she uttered his name—the name that had captivated the young woman of Jiangdong, the name that had haunted the dreams of both her and her sister.

He cupped her face in his hands, deeply intoxicated, and kissed her lips wildly, utterly destroying the distance that should have been maintained between them. Her hands caressed his bare chest, captivated by the medal-like scars. If it weren't for the domineering aura of this man, perhaps she would be his wife.
With a touch of regret, she slowly, inch by inch, slid her hand towards his lower body, lightly touching his enormous member twice, as if afraid to make contact.

He pressed her down, grabbing her hand and holding it to his painfully hard erection, guiding her to recall the forgotten pleasures of their intimate moments.

She felt the familiar pulse in her palm, and half-instinctively, her slender fingers encircled his magnificent shaft,
letting the heat in her hand burn away all her reason.

He wasn't satisfied with simply holding it; he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to move up and down, relieving the desire that was almost unbearable. To please this woman he had always only been able to look up to, he condescended to lift her soft, pink buttocks, and like he would with his wife when he was in a good mood, he played with her wet, hot valley with his lips and tongue.

What her husband had never done before brought her immense surprise, but she didn't want to only focus on her own enjoyment. She gently pushed him away, removing her headdress. Her cloud-like hair, like the passion she had suppressed for years, cascaded onto the bed. Her delicate fingers moved lightly, inch by inch, the last vestiges of her clothing sliding down her smooth shoulders.

He stared, parched, at this scene that had only ever appeared in his dreams. If it weren't for the brother who had fought alongside him on the battlefield, she would be his wife. He thought with a touch of regret, another similar face inadvertently flashing through his mind, a slight hesitation appearing on his face.

She knew he was thinking of his wife, her sister, a pitiful woman waiting for her husband to return home in an empty house.

But tonight, she only wanted to live for herself. She leaned against his chest, her hand tracing his strong lines. "Don't think about anything else, please, tonight, just me alone..."

He was stunned by her almost pleading words. He lowered his head, his pitiful face filled with the bitterness of widowhood. His heart was now free of all other thoughts.

Her husband was unrestrained and naturally lacked romantic flair, so when his gentle hands caressed her sensitive garden, a wave of happiness almost overwhelmed her. With a balance of firmness and tenderness, his body overlapped with hers, his fiery tip prying open her tightly closed jade gate, his massive member, like a fiery dragon, piercing deep into her soul, making her almost float into ecstasy in that instant. A long-lost feeling of fullness filled her lower body, and that warmth suddenly made her want to cry. Crystalline tears slid down her peach-blossom cheeks and onto the pillow.

"What's wrong?" he asked anxiously, not understanding why she suddenly cried.

"I... I don't know why either. But it's not because of you." She gently wiped away the fine beads of sweat that had formed on his skin from trying to remain still. "It's alright."

He no longer cared about anything; a woman's heart was more unpredictable than a rushing river, and worrying about such things would only waste the night. In that reluctant embrace, he slowly withdrew, and with the friction between their fleshy membranes, a heavenly moan escaped her lips, as if the withdrawal had taken away all her troubles. Just as he was about to pull out, he swiftly thrust back in. The winding paths of her flower-like opening were instantly traversed.

Compared to her deceased husband, the man before her clearly knew far more about matters of the heart. With just a few simple strokes, her long-dormant passion and untapped desires surfaced. As he moved gently, he hoisted her delicate feet onto his shoulders, his lips lightly kissing the insteps, lingering on those perfectly proportioned feet.

She knew her feet were beautiful, capable of igniting any man's desire. But she hadn't expected the light kisses on her insteps and the gentle caresses below her ankles, combined with the continuous pleasure from their intimate union, to pierce her already chaotic mind like a sharp sword.

Unconsciously, she curled her small feet, the soles of her feet rippling with beautiful waves. He smiled and gently swept his hand across her soles, the tingling and tickling sensation mixed with the pleasure of the impact overcoming her last vestiges of restraint. A celestial moan echoed loudly in the room. Having cast aside her last shred of restraint, the pleasure she received was overwhelming. Her
smooth, tight flower-like opening clung to him, her writhing, white, beautiful body firmly holding his gaze. Her suppressed moans, filled with the joy of a young woman, assaulted his ears. Under this triple temptation, controlling his desire became incredibly difficult. Her flower-like opening contracted in waves, allowing her to clearly feel him swell to his limit inside her.

Using the last shred of reason, he withdrew from her body, and in her surprised and then understanding gaze, the splashed fluid stained her beautiful face. Somewhat bewildered, she scraped the sticky liquid from her face with her index finger. Moonlight filled the room, and under its bright glow, her long hair flowing freely, her moonlit body completely naked, seemed to be licking the sticky liquid from her fingers with the tip of her pink tongue, as if to soothe the dryness between her lips and teeth.

This alluring scene caused his lower body to suddenly throb, and he felt a surge of desire again. She was still savoring the afterglow of their encounter, curled up in his arms like a languid cat. He reached his hand back between her thighs, and before the passion subsided, he skillfully teased her again. The sensitive clitoris on her vulva, before it could even hide its delicate body, was caught by his fingers, gently teasing and caressing it.

She trembled, the lingering torrent of pleasure engulfing her once more. He held her tightly, as if trying to embed her into his body. She sat in his lap, in a position she had never imagined before, and he easily penetrated her. The deep penetration caused her to feel a slight pain amidst the pleasure, but that pain gave her an unprecedented sense of satisfaction. She twisted her slender waist, letting his hardness, deeply buried inside her, gently rub against her with his movements.

There was no fierce intensity like a raging storm, only the gentle tenderness of a spring breeze. This mere, subtle rhythm plunged her into another wave of passion. Her entire body finally went limp, utterly powerless, and at their point of union, glistening moisture trickled outwards.

"A woman made of water..." he chuckled, guiding her to lie face down on the bed.

She softly pressed her upper body against the bed, her pristine breasts pressed into two deformed orbs, her knees weakly parted, her full buttocks raised in a shy pose. Never having used this position before, she felt no shame, only a surge of curiosity about this union.

He lay prone behind her, his hands rubbing the edges of her breasts, his penis, aided by the overflowing pleasure of her lower body, smoothly plunging in to its hilt. Such deep penetration was a first for her; the hidden, tender flesh deep within her was almost indented. She buried her face deeply in the soft pillow, knowing that no matter how she usually was, her face must be radiating springtime bliss now.

Her waist ached, and her body gradually flattened out, and he followed suit, his weapon beginning its gentle assault on her now-open palace. The two of them, like cicadas in late summer, clung together, creating a world of their own, lost in the moment.

The slapping of their buttocks against each other's lower abdomen created a harmonious rhythm, her moans in the pillow becoming the most beautiful chord. In this symphony of flesh and spirit, he withdrew his desire, scattering the seeds of lust onto her supple back. Having been tossed to the heavens by waves of pleasure countless times, she was too exhausted to care about anything else, and thus, covered in a mess, she drifted into a blissful dream. She

awoke suddenly to morning, the bed neat and clean, as if it had all been nothing but a springtime dream.
She touched the strawberry-like bruises on her chest, only these traces proving the reality of last night. She sighed softly, without makeup or clothing, like a newborn infant, she walked to the portrait behind the altar, pressed her face against it, and her eyes gradually welled up with tears.

"Bo Fu..." A tear fell, shattered...

The vast, misty landscape was captured by the eyes of the handsome man at the window. A stunningly beautiful young woman, with a touch of melancholy, helped her husband put on his armor.

Once the war started, there was no time to spare... He said to himself, seemingly casually reminding his wife, "Visit your sister more often. You two sisters should get together often. I'm away from home all year round; you've suffered." "
I will. Go in peace; I'll be fine here." The young woman leaned against her husband's breastplate, not letting him see the tears on her face, "I'll wait for you at home, Gongjin." 　　　　The shimmering water, the wind passing without a trace... Even 　　　　if the east wind favored Zhou Yu, the two Qiao beauties would remain locked away in the depths of spring

in their boudoirs . 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　The End

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Spring is deep and the whole city is locked up

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