Edinburgh Passion (Shaanxi Army) [Full Text]

Enchanted 　　by 　Edinburgh (Shaanxi Army)

[Full Text] Word　　Count :
14206 words

********** ... 　　Ever since I learned that Yuan Jinya had transferred from Cardiff to Edinburgh, I've thought about her constantly. 　　I imagine she must have been extremely unhappy to leave without a word. A beautiful radio host like her should be enjoying pampering in China, yet she's suffering abroad and even having to swallow her pride. The thought of this fills me with sorrow. 　　On the afternoon of April 0, 2000, after work, I packed my bags and took the train to London's Elm -Broadway station. I stayed overnight at the Chinese Embassy's Education Section, station number 51. The next morning, I took the 8:30 train from King's Cross station to Edinburgh. 　　When I woke up, the sun was shining outside, but by the time I boarded the train, the sky was overcast and it had started to rain. The weather in Britain this year has been strange; spring has arrived long ago and the temperature hasn't warmed up. It even snowed in northern England on Mother's Day. 　　This persistent rainy weather perfectly matched my melancholy mood. There were quite a few people boarding the train. A group of Japanese girls took over my carriage, number 6. The group of Japanese girls spoke in a babbling, nervous expression , and were hardly attractive; many even had bowed legs. 　　One woman, with fair skin, seemed quite pretty at first glance, but upon closer inspection, her face was quite saggy, and she had wrinkles on her lips. 　　I wondered why the Japanese girls I saw in movies were all so sweet and beautiful, while the Japanese girls I met in real life were mostly unattractive. Feeling listless, I looked out the window. 　　The train rolled along, passing endless green meadows or wheat fields, occasionally punctuated by large patches of bright yellow rapeseed flowers. Exquisite red houses or small black thatched-roof cottages evoked images of ancient yet refreshing fairy tales. 　　As the train passed York station, a slender, dark-haired girl with a backpack came into my carriage. She had delicate eyebrows, bright eyes, small, rosy lips, and skin that, while not very fair, was radiant and full of youthful energy . She was clearly an Asian girl, very likely Chinese. 　　She looked around for a seat, then came to me and pointed to the empty seat next to me, saying, "Is this attake?" Her pronunciation was quick and light, youthful. 　　"No," I replied, observing her with interest. 　　She then took her backpack off the overhead rack, sat down, and continued looking around, refusing to look at me. A couple of minutes later, she stood up again, took off her short black cotton-lined blouse, placed it on the rack, and took out beginning to read. 　　The train started moving again, and the Gothic spires of York Minster quickly disappeared from view. I sized up the young woman: a finely crafted magenta round-neck fleece tucked into her jeans, making her already full breasts appear even more prominent and defined. A delicate gold-plated necklace hung around her neck, and a black mole accentuated her slender neck . She wore a pair of delicate black mid-heel shoes, her right leg gracefully crossed over her left. Her long, black hair flowed with a lustrous sheen, and she exuded an alluring, healthy beauty. She clearly sensed my scrutiny; the right corner of her mouth twitched slightly, and although her eyes were fixed on her book, they glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. 　　"Hey, are you Chinese?" I said. 　　"Hmm—? Oh, you're Chinese too." She turned her face, a faint smile on her lips. Her double eyelids were very distinct, and her eyes were clear and bright, making my heart flutter. 　　"Yes, I'm from Shaanxi. Where are you from?" 　　"I'm from Tianjin." 　　"Wow, Tianjin. We're practically from the same hometown! I graduated from Tianjin University. Are you studying in England now?" 　　"I'm doing my MBA at the University of Derby. I thought you were Japanese!" 　　"That's not surprising. When I first came to England, I was so lonely. I'd try to strike up a conversation with anyone who looked Chinese, and often ended up claiming to be from South Korea. Later, I got confused and didn't even recognize my own people." We all laughed. She laughed happily , revealing her pearly white teeth. 　　"Where are you going? Edinburgh?" she asked, holding her book. 　　"Yes, for tourism. And you?" 　　"Me too. I'm going—to see my brother." She shook her head, her eyes darting around playfully, and smiled happily. She spoke the last few words very quickly. 　　"You study in Derby, how did you get on the train from here?" 　　"A British classmate of mine lives in York. Yesterday she took me to York for half a day, and I stayed at her house last night." 　　"Oh, I see. You like this novel?" I asked. 　　"Yes. I watched the TV series 'Holding Hands,' and I bought the novel when I came to England. I read it ." 　　"I've watched the TV series twice. It's really well-made, portraying the love and relationships of ordinary people in a thrilling way. The theme music is also good, poignant, beautiful, and melancholic. The acting of several main actors is very natural and spot-on. The actress who plays Wang Chun isn't very famous, but she's very convincing." I said. 　　"Yes, that's right, you've expressed everything I couldn't. What's ? Her name is…" 　　"Yu Feihong." 　　"Yes, it's Yu Feihong." She looked at me excitedly and said, "She didn't have many scenes, but she acted superbly ."

Wang Chun is a beautiful Xiamen girl in the novel "Holding Hands," who comes to Beijing to work. She falls in love with a married man
and becomes pregnant with his child. Later, to avoid disrupting the male protagonist's family harmony, she rationally and beautifully
leaves Beijing.

I quickly found common ground with this girl. Through casual conversation, I learned her name was Han Xin. After graduating from the Foreign Languages Department of Tianjin Normal University
last year she came to the UK to study for an MBA at her own expense. Her brother graduated from Tianjin
University of Physical Education and in 1989 obtained a government-funded scholarship to study sports management at Loughborough University in the UK. He later
overstayed his visa and moved around several places before finally working in Edinburgh. She said her brother didn't know she was going to
Edinburgh, and she wanted to surprise him. It seems she loves her brother very much; their sibling bond is deep.

Han Xin speaks Mandarin very quickly, without any Tianjin accent. Her speech often ends with a rising intonation, like
the Mandarin spoken by women from Hong Kong and Taiwan, with a slightly affected, sweet tone. This is a common trait among many northern girls, but it also reveals
the sweetness that girls of her caliber have a high regard for. Her laughter was unrestrained and radiant, like that of a child, yet
her curvaceous figure perfectly embodied the beauty of a mature woman. This assertive femininity filled me with silent
admiration.

Around 1 p.m., the train pulled into Edinburgh Wyverley station. Han Xin and I
climbed the steps into the famous Princes Street. Despite it being Good Friday and many shops being closed,
Princes Street was still bustling with people, mostly tourists, I imagine. It had clearly rained recently; Princes Street was
damp and clean.

Large, low-hanging clouds drifted slowly across the sky like thawing glaciers, occasionally revealing
glimpses of a clear, bright blue sky. The dark brown Edinburgh Castle, perched atop volcanic rock, stood prominently
in the air southwest of Princes Street. Below the cliffs, the Princes Street Gardens were a riot of color, a
unique blend of the solemn, ancient castle and the vibrant, modern commercial district.

"Wow, that's magnificent!" Han Xin exclaimed. Before getting off the train, she deliberately applied
lipstick , making them appear delicate and alluring against her cherry-red skin and pearly white teeth. A gentle breeze blew a few strands of her black hair across her cheeks,
and her bright eyes sparkled, making her incredibly charming.

"Yes, she's very beautiful!" I said, with a double meaning.

"I think we should say goodbye now. Thank you, I had a very pleasant journey!"

"Are you alright on your own? Would you like me to see you off?" I asked with concern, not wanting her to leave so
soon.

"No problem, my brother lives in the Old Town, not far from the University of Edinburgh. I'll find my way."

"Alright then, have a good trip!" I extended my hand generously. Han Xin gently shook my
hand with her slender fingertips, smiled sweetly, and turned to leave.

I watched Han Xin walk east along Princes Street for a while, then turn right onto Northbridge
. Her legs were long, and her hips were round and full. The only flaw was that her legs were slightly apart at the top,
not very close together, but this didn't detract from her overall beauty. Like a flawed gem, her imperfections made her seem genuine and approachable.

She never turned around, but I think she knew someone was watching her.

After a long while, I reluctantly turned and walked west alone. My first priority was finding accommodation; I naturally wouldn't dare inquire at the
luxurious . Continuing west from Princes Street, the number of bed
and breakfasts (small family-run guesthouses) gradually increased. I asked at
seven or eight, but all were full, and I was told I needed to book well in advance.

An old lady told me about a large, reasonably priced hotel in Haymarket at the western end of Princes Street

, so I turned back and found it. This is
a chain hotel called Travelinn, with over 200 branches in the UK . All rooms are family rooms, with a uniform design,
layout, and price, accommodating a couple and two children. Sure enough, there were still rooms available, priced at
￡ per day. For me, a high-ranking official receiving a monthly allowance of ￡410, it was still expensive, but considering
its prime location in the city center and the "travel with caution" philosophy, I booked a room anyway.

After settling in, it was nearly 3:30 PM. I walked up to Edinburgh Castle, where
the entrance fee .

I took

a photo with two Scottish guards in black woolen kilts, high-waisted white socks with red trim, and felt hats, before entering the castle gates. This ancient castle complex, built on the rock of a dormant volcano 300-400 million years ago,
is dark brown, with many parts blackened and sticky from years of wind and rain, exuding a medieval melancholy.
As a symbol of Scotland, this castle witnessed the burning alive of hundreds of pagan women as "witches,"
endured a two-year siege and artillery ravages, and was intertwined with the long-standing territorial ambitions of the English and the internal court infighting and religious conflicts
within , making it a symbol of Scotland's history.
As I ascended the narrow staircase into the crownroom within the palace,
I saw the golden Scottish crown and scepter, along with the coronation stone, which had only been returned to
Scotland from England Under the dim light, they silently continued the arrogance of the past.

I entered a cramped little room in the southeast corner of the palace. In this unassuming room,
Mary, the most romantic and tragic Queen in Scottish history, gave birth to James VI of Scotland
and James I of England on June 19, 1566.

Mary, who ascended the throne just six days after her birth, experienced countless
sorrows . To escape the English invasion, she was sent to France at the age of five, later marrying the French
Dauphin. In 1560, her French husband died, and in 1561, at the age of 19, Mary returned to her homeland to become
Queen.

The young Queen Mary was kind, beautiful, and charming, but she was also a woman prone to passion.
Her passionate beauty made her alluring, but it also destined her to possess the fragility that a queen should avoid. In 1565,
at the age of 23, Mary married her cousin, Lord Darnley, who was four years younger than her. The dissolute Lord Darnley, jealous of Mary's intimate relationship with her
private secretary, Lillough, murdered Lillough in front of her when she was six months pregnant.

In 1567, Lord Darnley was murdered, and two months later Mary
married Lord Boswell, who was deeply involved in the murder. Lord Boswell was a handsome but notorious playboy, and
this marriage caused a huge uproar in Scotland, which was turbulent due to religious conflict. Queen Mary was forced to abdicate in
favor of her newborn son, and Scotland began a five-year civil war.

Mary fled to England, hoping to seek refuge with her cousin, Queen Elizabeth I. However, the lifelong unmarried but
powerful Queen Elizabeth I, recognizing Mary's equal claim to the English throne, imprisoned her
for 20 years and eventually had her beheaded. Mary's son, King James VI, in order to also inherit the English
throne ,
did not even offer a formal protest when King Elizabeth I agreed to his mother's execution in 1587.

In 1603, Elizabeth I died, and King James VI rushed to London to ascend
the English throne.

The palace reflects Queen Mary's life through sculptures and paintings, accompanied by somber and melancholic background music. A beautiful and charming Scottish woman, born with grace and elegance ,
was
tragically .

Deeply saddened, I left the palace and arrived at the ancient fortress. It was nearly 6 pm, and
few tourists remained.

A light rain began to fall, shrouding both the Georgian New Town and the medieval Old Town in a misty haze
. I left the castle and walked along the Royal Way, which slopes eastward. This cobblestone road,
like the spine of the Old Town, has witnessed centuries of royal grandeur and
the vicissitudes of history traversed by royalty and nobility.

On either side stand sandstone houses, churches, and palaces, interspersed with winding alleyways that seem
like sensitive nerves reaching into Edinburgh's hidden corners. With a heavy heart filled with melancholy and a longing for the past, I let the light rain soak my
hair and clothes. At the end of the road stood Holyroodhouse Palace. It was closing time, so
I stood outside, observing the palace.

Mary, Queen of Scots, lived here after returning to Scotland from France. Her second husband, Lord Darnley, ordered
his men to stab her closest private secretary, Leigh, 56 times in her bedroom. It must have been an
incredibly horrific night, a night of unbearable grief for the young and beautiful Mary. Every stone in the palace seems soaked with Mary
's tears and sorrow, flowing like the night rain for centuries. I could almost see
Mary, yearning for a peaceful and happy life, pursuing beauty and poetry, unable to sleep, sobbing softly…

I truly heard the sobbing, right outside the palace walls, beneath a black rose bush. Was it a dream
come true? Was it the ghost of Mary reappearing? Mary's tragedy filled me with sorrow and regret; even her ghost
deserved my deepest embrace. I walked forward and saw a familiar figure—Han Xin,
a girl weeping alone.

"Han Xin, what's wrong? What are you doing here?" I was surprised.

Han Xin suddenly froze, glanced at me, then turned away and cried sadly. No matter what I asked, she wouldn't
answer .

I could only stand helplessly beside her. I thought that if she was going to stay here all night, I would stay with her
.

After a while, I stroked her shoulder and said softly, "Don't cry. Are you hungry? Let's find somewhere
to eat okay? I haven't eaten since I got off the train. You can't just watch me starve to death, can you?
Let's go." She still didn't speak, but followed me like a helpless child.

When we arrived at a bar that served food north of Northbridge, I said, "Shall we eat something
here ?"

She still didn't speak, but glanced inside with tears in her eyes and walked in. I thought she must be carrying
a deep , and the dim and comfortable environment of the bar would help her relieve her bitterness.

I ordered two of the bar's signature platter set meals and two pints. I could tell Han Xin wasn't much
of a drinker. She frowned and downed several gulps in one go, her face quickly flushing.

"If you can't drink, then don't," I said, trying to sound calm.

She suddenly spoke: "Would you like to hear my story?"

I stared into her tear-filled eyes and nodded: "Tell me, maybe things aren't
as ."

And so, under the dim lights of the bar, the hidden inner world of a young woman was revealed to me. As
she spoke haltingly and subtly, a series of real yet illogical scenes unfolded before me
.

In a high-ranking official's family in Tonglou, Tianjin, China, there were two half-siblings, 13 years apart in age. In

1989, the 25-year-old brother was sent to Loughborough University in England to study sports management, while his 12-
year-old sister was in middle school.

After completing his studies, the brother tried every means to stay in England, traveling all over the country struggling to make a living. Six years passed since then.

In the summer of 1995, the older brother returned to China for the first time after going abroad, and the siblings were finally reunited.

By then, the 31-year-old brother, having undergone the rigorous training of his time working abroad, had become a robust and mature man, while the once
naive younger sister had blossomed into a graceful 18-year-old young woman. The
sister, now mature and sophisticated, exuded a sweet fragrance like a ripe peach. The long separation had diluted the blood
ties between the siblings, and their changes had sparked a pure admiration for each other. Busy with work, their parents entrusted the task of accompanying the brother to
the sister.

Having just finished her college entrance exams, the sister was exceptionally cheerful and bright. She accompanied her brother to the food street, the shopping mall
, and even to visit friends. The sister, who loved wearing a red short dress, would coquettishly link her arm with her brother's strong shoulder, her long
, beautiful legs and feet in high-heeled sandals alluring. She would often mischievously press her voluptuous breasts against
her brother's broad body; the beautiful sister was very confident in her charm. The summer of 1995 in Tianjin was exceptionally
hot . The mature woman's scent emanating from my younger sister, through her sweat glands, uncontrollably flooded my nostrils, irritating
every nerve in my body.

One drowsy midday, my sister was sound asleep in her room, the only sound the cicadas chirping outside the window
keeping her peaceful. In her sleep, she felt a rough, large hand caress her. That hand
slipped directly under her pink nightgown, reaching between her legs, stroking her smooth thighs and soft genitals. This was 18...
The 18-year-old girl experienced her first real caress from a man, a sensation beyond words. Half-asleep, she saw
her brother 's face, flushed with desire. Fear made her want to scream, but the itching made her yearn for
more. The housekeeper was sleeping downstairs; making a sound would only worsen the situation.

The expanding desire of an 18-year-old girl was taking over. Her brother's large mouth captured her
cherry-like nipple, his sexually charged breath further arousing her. Her lower body flowed with
fluid , and an uncontrollable sense of indulgence made her extend her wet tongue to lick her brother's burning lips and tongue. A tingling
sensation, like a rash, spread throughout her body. Weakly, she allowed his large hand to pull down her pink,
lace panties. Thick vaginal fluid flowed down her vulva, dripping onto the mat. A dreamlike
moan escaped her throat.

Her brother pressed down on top of her, his large, hot penis probing her tender, narrow opening
before plunging in. A searing pain made her cry out, and her brother stopped
.

After a while, once she had calmed down, he began slow, rhythmic thrusting. Gradually,
the sharp pain was replaced by a swelling, itchy sensation. His pubic hair, like stiff bristles, stimulated her clitoris, as if
being gently scratched by a furry kitten.

Under his powerful thrusts, her petite body swayed lasciviously like a willow in the wind, her moans incoherent
, her vulva overflowing with fluid, making soft, wet sounds.

Both brother and sister were drenched in sweat. The brother's thrusts grew faster and faster, his penis continuing
to swell Her labia opened and closed like a flower with each thrust,
overwhelmed by an unprecedented, ecstatic pleasure. The brother silenced her growing moans with his strong lips, while her delicate
hands gripped his broad shoulders. A gush of fluid, like urination, escaped her clitoris. After a few
more ejaculated into her vagina.

Dizzy and disoriented, the siblings embraced, the brother's large penis still hard and erect within her tender
flesh. About ten minutes later, the brother withdrew, a pool of sticky fluid tinged with his sister
's virginity flowing out. The 18-year-old sister experienced orgasm for the first time, feeling both terrified
and excited. She spent the entire afternoon reliving every detail of the midday orgasm, her engorged vulva remaining constantly wet
.

That evening, the parents returned home, and the family watched TV together. Feeling fulfilled and content, the parents
failed to notice the unusual behavior between the brother and sister.

After bed, the younger sister felt hot all over and tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She feared her brother would violate her again, yet she also longed for that ecstatic
feeling.

The parents next door snored loudly. She took off her underwear and gently stroked her labia with her fingers; her vulva
was once again wet.

Her bedroom door was gently pushed open, and a tall figure pressed down on her like a devil, pulling back
the blanket. Excited and agitated, she trembled with a chill, her legs involuntarily parting.
The brother, however, brought his mouth to her lips and licked her clitoris with his rough tongue, then inserted his tongue into her wet vagina, sucking out the fluids. The younger sister, experiencing forbidden fruit for the first time, could not withstand such teasing; her body was already limp, and it felt as if thousands of ants were crawling
inside her vagina . 　　Seeing his sister's burning desire, the brother calmly inserted his thick penis into her vagina. The incestuous stimulation and the effort to suppress any sounds aroused the sister even more. She stroked the base of her brother , her tender buttocks writhing as if they were part of his penis. Her sweet juices flowed continuously, soaking her brother's thick pubic hair into a sticky mess. 　　In that summer of 1995, when desire was rampant, the brother's brutal defilement of his sister's virginity ignited the volcano of her lust. The siblings made love repeatedly, like drug addicts, sometimes two or three times a day. Nourished by the male's semen, the sister's face was always rosy, her beautiful legs and full buttocks exuding unmistakable sexuality. Her thin dress made intercourse effortless. 　　One evening, after enjoying a symphony at the concert hall, the brother and sister went to a park in the middle of the street A gentle breeze was blowing. The brother sat on a stone bench, and the sister, like a young lover, wrapped her arms around the brother's strong neck and sat on his lap. Under her thin skirt, the brother's thick, hard penis, like a small stake, was inserted into the sister's vagina. The sister kissed the brother 's mouth and gently swayed her hips. Finally, the brother ejaculated like a fountain in the sister's flower garden. In this way, the 31-year-old strong brother gave the 18-year-old sister, who was full of sexual 　　desire, complete sexual pleasure. After the brother returned to England and the sister went to university, the sister missed those blissful times every day. She craved sex , but the self-important young men around her, who were about her age, did not arouse her interest at all. She believed that only her brother could satisfy her. 　　She began to masturbate, imagining her brother's thick penis and warm, panting breath in the dark, and reaching orgasm again and again. 　　She asked her brother to handle her studies in England, and upon graduating from university, she arrived in England. On the flight , she was thrilled at the prospect of meeting her brother. Upon arriving at the airport, she warmly embraced him; his familiar scent immediately brought back the visceral sensations of four years ago. In the Terminal 3 hall of Heathrow Airport, a surge of heat gushed from her lower body. 　　That night, after arriving in Derby by bus, the siblings barely slept. This time, it was the sister who took the initiative, repeatedly teasing her brother as he inserted his engorged penis into her wet vagina. In a strange environment far from homeland, there was no need for pretense; for the pleasure of sex, she and her brother would be together for life. 　　However, when the New Year holidays arrived and she wanted to reunite with her brother in Edinburgh, he claimed he had to go to Europe for business , shattering her dreams. Afterwards, she sensed her brother gradually withdrawing, and intuitively suspected he had found someone else. 　　This afternoon, when she suddenly appeared at her brother's apartment, she indeed saw him with a short woman in her thirties who spoke with a strong Cantonese accent. The woman had high cheekbones and a large bust, sharp eyes, and a fierce demeanor. Her brother, under the pretext of showing her around, told her outside that he was going to marry this woman.

The brother had been in England for ten years, but

due to limitations in his profession, he had been doing odd jobs without finding formal employment. He still held
an official passport and had not obtained permanent residency. The British woman, divorced from her husband, ran a
Chinese restaurant in Edinburgh, and marrying her could solve his immigration problem. He said that after ten years in England, he could no longer live a
life of misery, and that his sister, a beautiful and lovely girl, would surely find a wonderful boyfriend.

The lovestruck sister was consumed by jealousy and heartbreak. She pleaded, argued, and scolded him, but her brother was determined to leave.

Her dream, boldly pursuing her dreams despite all the societal barriers, had shattered
;

she felt a sense of despair, as if the world were ending. Her brother begged her not to act on her emotions, otherwise, the woman would see through his facade, and he would have to struggle again.

The sister felt that her handsome brother was both pitiful and despicable. She angrily said, "I'm not going back with you
! I'm going back to Derby right now! You can go back to being an Englishman!" She turned and ran away, hoping her brother would catch up
and change his mind.

When she was certain that her brother hadn't followed her after all, she was utterly devastated. She wandered aimlessly,
weeping …

Han Xin finally finished recounting her extraordinary love story, tears once again blurring her vision. I never imagined that such a sensational plot, something I'd only ever seen in
novels or movies, would happen to such a beautiful, living
girl; it seemed incongruous with her light and pretty appearance. But I silently reminded myself not to judge things by my own limited
experience; anything can happen in the world beyond our comprehension.

So I projected a calm and composed demeanor, as if I were well-versed in such matters. I carefully chose my words and slowly
spoke to Han Xin: "This is indeed a beautiful and tragic story. First, I thank you for your trust in me, for
sharing your secrets with me. I understand your sorrow, but I still maintain that things may
not be as unbearable as you imagine.

You gave your traditionally valued virginity to your brother and experienced sexual pleasure from him, which
led to a sense of loss and dependence on him. This feeling was so strong that you
irrationally rejected others, thus making you even more dependent on your brother. It's a vicious cycle.

Okay, I know what you're trying to say. I believe you have genuine feelings for your brother, or rather, you truly love
him, but you think this..." "Can this kind of love truly make you stay together forever? We Chinese already have many inner constraints, let
alone this kind of love which is considered unethical anywhere in the world.

Your brother is rational after all; his choice is realistic, and it may have saved both of you. Let's think about it
from a different perspective. Please allow me to be frank: the world is so big. Since this kind of love faces obstacles,
why don't we seek love without obstacles?

Is it really true that no one but your brother can give you sexual pleasure? We haven't known each other for long, but I can
see that you are a tasteful, open-minded, intelligent, and beautiful girl. You are very likable. I think you will
overcome yourself and find true love."

Han Xin's worried face softened, and her eyes lit up when I mentioned how beautiful and lovely she was. I don't
know how much effect my words would have, but I believe that after she poured out her story to me, her inner depression
had lessened considerably.

For someone suffering greatly, patient listening is more effective than giving advice.

She stammered, "Actually, I think he's really pitiful. He's over 30 and still working abroad... You
... do you think I'm a shameless, bad girl?"

"How could I? Pursuing sex is as natural as eating. If you love each other and it doesn't hurt
anyone else , why not? Stop overthinking. Trust that time heals all wounds. You're still young, and I
believe you'll overcome your limitations."

"Thank you. Without you, I don't know what tonight would have been like..."
Tears welled up in Han Xin's eyes again.

"Alright, alright, you're a pretty girl. Crying all the time will make you ugly and nobody will like you. Don't have
a place to stay ? Listen to me, I'll arrange it for you. Let's go."

Han Xin and I left the bar and went up Princes Street.

A light drizzle fell, Princes Street was dimly lit, and the magnificent Edinburgh Castle, bathed in a soft green light, seemed
to float in the air like a celestial spectacle, as if proclaiming the vicissitudes of history and the tenacious spirit of life to the vast universe.

We walked to the statue of Scott in the middle of Princes Street. Under the Gothic canopy built of black oilstone
, the great Scottish writer Scott sat with his beloved dog, facing north, gazing affectionately at
the Scottish Highlands that haunted his dreams—his beloved homeland. Small groups of young people
strolled along Princes Street, speaking different languages. A young woman with dark hair, dark eyes, and fair skin spread her arms wide and recited his famous lines

aloud under the statue : 　　"Land of blossom heat hands happy food, 　　land of the moon and the flow, 　　land of my souls!" 　　What moral hand can make the　field band 　　that knits metothy ruggled strand! 　　Her companions cheered and whistled. 　　"What a romantic city, like a dream! Life is short, but how precious it is to learn to cherish and enjoy every day!" I couldn't help but exclaim. 　　In the short ten hours I spent in Edinburgh, the stories of Queen Mary and the modern-day Han Xin seemed to meet unexpectedly in my sensitive heart with a mysterious connection, gazing deeply into each other's eyes. To be infatuated with love, to be captivated by love, to be weary by love—this is the eternal lament of passionate and beautiful women. Whether in the past, present, or future, women can never escape the flowery path or the mire of love. And what about men? I cherish women, I give my heart everywhere—what kind of man ? I turned my head and suddenly noticed Han Xin secretly scrutinizing my face, her gaze filled with the innocent gaze of a young woman towards a man and the melancholy of someone harboring unrequited feelings. My turn caught her off guard; her eyes darted around a few times before she lowered her head. I laughed at myself for my earlier lapse in concentration, yet felt a deep pity for Han Xin's embarrassment.

I cupped her face in my hands, looked directly into her eyes, and said softly, "Silly girl, don't always look so worried
! Smile, or I'll sit on the floor and cry my eyes out too."

Han Xin pursed her lips, forcing a sorrowful smile. I tucked her wet hair behind her ear and kissed
her forehead.

Han Xin and I walked side by side back to my Travelin
406 room in Haymarket.

I opened the door with my keycard. The room, decorated mainly in yellow tones, was clean and tidy, and the warm lighting
gave it a comfortable feel.

"It's okay, make do with whatever you want. We're just poor international students, so we'll make do. You sleep on the bed tonight, and I'll sleep on
the sofa ."

"That's fine. I'm sorry to trouble you," Han Xin said, her voice thick with emotion,
sounding like a child who had just cried and was still not fully recovered.

She took off her backpack and her coat, revealing a light plum-red fleece jacket, which instantly brought
a bright and cheerful atmosphere to the room.

She wore a strong perfume that hit my olfactory nerves, causing a sudden, throbbing erection.

I told her to take a shower first, and to ease her embarrassment, I said I'd go downstairs to find some
brochures .

I sat in the hotel lobby, smoked two cigarettes, and tried to process the day's events. Back in the room, I saw Han Xin, wearing a
pink nightgown, combing her long, wet hair. Her smooth cheeks were flushed from the hot bath; she looked
fresh and lovely, like a lotus emerging from water, the room filled with her natural fragrance.

"You showered pretty quickly," I said, trying to make conversation.

She smiled shyly, her expression serene. I also took a shower. As the fine
stream hit my penis, it immediately became erect; I think this was related to Han Xin's scent.

Her compliant acceptance when I kissed her forehead, and the panic she felt when I caught her secretly observing me, made me
understand what I needed to do next. I came out of the bathroom in my trousers and shirt and saw her sitting on
the edge of the bed in watching TV. Her long legs stretched all the way up to her knees, and her toenails revealed her sexy, beautiful, rosy feet. She
was watching a TV series called "Red Shoes Diary" on Channel 5, which depicted
the sexual desires and obsessions of mature, beautiful, and well-educated women in their twenties and thirties. The leading ladies were
all incredibly sexy and alluring, and the entire series was accompanied by languid and decadent music.

"What are you watching?" I asked deliberately. Han Xin's neck turned red, but she
maintained . I stood in front of her. Her eyes were still fixed on the TV, but
the slight trembling of her eyes betrayed her nervousness. I lifted her pointed chin, and she closed her eyes slightly, her cherry lips
parting thirstily.

I lowered my head and kissed her sweet lips. She wrapped her arms around my waist and lay down on the bed. I kissed her lips,
her eyes, her earlobes, and the beautiful mole on her neck; she kissed my lips, my cheeks, and my
neck .

I took off my shirt, my bare chest pressing against her firm breasts through the soft nightgown. Han Xin's breathing
grew heavier, her breath becoming hot. My left hand slipped under the hem of her nightgown, caressing her smooth
, delicate breasts. She slipped her slender tongue into my mouth, swaying it like a snake. I gently rubbed her nipples with my ring finger and
thumb , the speed increasing.

Her nipples hardened, her body began to tremble slightly, and her right hand impatiently unzipped my pants,
reaching inside to first grab my penis through my underwear, then quickly slipping inside from the side of my underwear to firmly grasp
my already erect shaft. She pinched my penis between her index, middle, and ring fingers, her thumb gently rubbing the glans
. Waves of itching, like electric currents, radiated through my spine to my brain, and I let out
a rough, jackal-like pant.

My left hand began to move down, touching her panties already soaked with vaginal fluid. I
continued , her wet panties sinking deep into her vaginal opening, and she began to moan unrestrainedly.

I continued kissing her fragrant lips while simultaneously unbuckling my belt and pulling down my pants and underwear. My thick penis
sprang out like a released demon. I grabbed Han Xin's pink lace-trimmed panties, roughly
parted her fair thighs, and thrust my penis straight into her flower garden with lightning speed. She
gasped and her mouth wide, as if shot. We both fell silent at the same time, the scene frozen.

Suddenly, I remembered that on the day she lost her virginity, Han Xin was wearing a pink nightgown and
pink lace-trimmed panties. She had always treasured this set of underwear that witnessed her transformation from a girl to a woman, hoping to awaken
her brother's former madness.

What a foolish girl, so painstakingly trying! With boundless tenderness, I began to stir my penis
clockwise .

Our pubic bones pressed tightly together, her thick pubic hair tangling and rubbing against mine. Her body slowly
undulated . She grabbed the hem of her nightgown and pulled it up, the nightgown revealing her beautiful hair spread across the bed. Her firm
breasts were exposed, trembling gently, her nipples erect like pink flower stems. My hands intertwined with hers
, and I pressed her arms behind her head, my chest pressed against her full breasts.

My penis then began to swirl counter-clockwise inside her vagina, the constant flow of secretions making her vaginal opening
very slippery.

Her beautiful eyes were alluring, her face flushed, and small red spots appeared on her white breasts. Her small mouth pleaded
for mine, and she used her delicate tongue to deliver sweet saliva into my mouth.

My penis began to thrust in and out, each thrust eliciting an uncontrollable moan of pleasure from her throat,
and her lower body made a wet, sloshing sound. After hundreds of thrusts, I felt the urge to ejaculate, but I
didn't want to end it immediately. I pulled out my penis and began inserting my fingers into her vagina, first my middle finger, then my index finger, and
finally even my ring finger. The sticky fluid from Han Xin's thick labia covered my hands.
A tense expression, like she was baring her teeth, appeared on her face. She hissed and gasped, her slender fingers sometimes
rubbing against the pubic hair on her mons pubis, sometimes licking it in her mouth, making me want to tear this seductive woman apart.

"Brother...brother...you...you...you're going to fuck me to pieces...it's itchy...it's itchy...I can't...I can't take it...woo
...woo...ah...ah..." she moaned incoherently.

I turned her over, her legs spread wide on the edge of the bed, her elbows bent and resting on the bed. I inserted my slightly
tidied penis into her vagina from behind. This position gave me a feeling of penetrating deep into her internal organs, and I could
clearly see my penis going in and out and the curling of her labia.

I grabbed her waist and began to thrust violently, my thighs slapping against her fleshy buttocks, making
a "slap slap" sound. Han Xin supported her upper body with one arm, and reached between her legs with the other hand to grab and
knead my testicles. Because I had stopped my previous urge to ejaculate, my penis became even thicker and harder than iron. I
stretched my right leg on the low bed, while my left leg remained on the carpet. I kneaded her sagging breasts with both hands, thrusting even
closer to Han Xin's clitoris.

"Hah...hah...hah...hah...I'm going to fuck your clitoris to pieces..." I gritted my teeth, my face contorted with rage.

"So...so hard...ah...ah...ah...ah..." Han Xin tossed her hair, unable to bear it.

I felt her buttocks tremble, and vaginal fluid overflowed, flowing down her thighs; she had clearly reached orgasm.

But I didn't stop. I desperately suppressed my urge to ejaculate, prolonging the time I spent ravaging this delicate woman.

In the dreamlike, drizzly city of Edinburgh, penetrating the alluring body of a beautiful woman—
this unique experience heightened my lust. I wanted to shake her
obsessive dependence on Han Xin and her brother with my powerful thrusts, to let her experience the boundless pleasure of sex.

I pressed down on her buttocks, dipped my glans in the fluid from her vulva,
and dabbed it anus, trying to insert it. But this position made her anus contract tightly, and I failed several times.

I laid her down on the bed again, then grabbed her legs and lifted them up. This time, I
thrust my penis into her anus in one go. She cried out, "It hurts...it hurts..." I panted, "It'll
feel good soon." Sure enough, her anus began to secrete fluid, making my thrusts smoother and easier.

"This is my first time, it feels so unique. You're going to kill me!" She continued to knead my
testicles , and I inserted my left thumb into her vagina, making "plop, plop" sounds.

Her anus was much tighter than her vagina, stimulating my penis from all directions.
After about seventy or eighty thrusts, I was overwhelmed with pleasure, my face contorted, and I screamed as I ejaculated hot semen into Han Xin's belly.

Han Xin, on the other hand, was ravaged by me until she experienced multiple orgasms, her vaginal fluids flowing out like incontinent urine.

This time, we made love for over an hour, and we were both limp on the bed.

Han Xin kissed my lips and murmured, "You're so good, I feel so good." After a while,
she nudged me and said, "Get up, let's wash up." Then, like leading a child, she took me to the bathroom.

We stood in the bathtub. Han Xin first rinsed my penis with the showerhead, carefully
washing it with her delicate hands, playfully examining my glans. She even tickled my anus and
perineum my penis hard again. I washed her mons pubis with my hands, intentionally teasing her
vulva with my fingers, which aroused her, causing her to press her body against mine.

I parted her labia and sprayed her clitoris with the fine jet of water from the showerhead for a long time, causing her cheeks to flush
red again, and white secretions from her vagina mingled with the water, trickling down her legs. She had me sit on the edge of the tub, then knelt down
and took my penis into her mouth. She savored the sensation, sucking on my shaft with her mouth while
pinching , occasionally pausing to lick the tip of my glans with her tongue. I rubbed her breasts, feeling
incredibly pleasurable.

After a long while, Han Xin grasped my penis and began to stroke it, her warm tongue swirling and licking my engorged, purplish
glans. She increased the speed of her strokes just right, and my penis grew larger and harder
, standing erect until finally, I ejaculated in her mouth. Han Xin calmly swallowed my milky white semen.

We washed up again and went to bed. I held Han Xin's soft body, kissing her lips. The relaxation
and comfort after our indulgence made me unable to open my eyes. I asked her dreamily, "Silly girl, how can you trust me so much? Aren't you
afraid I might have bad intentions and harm you?"

She didn't speak, but like a child, she draped one leg over me and buried her face in my chest.

In reality, I had already sensed the intense sexual desire deep within her body; the burning lust made her abandon all restraint and
take risks, like an uncultured harlot.

The lustful nature of a pretty girl like Han Xin always felt somewhat cruel and unacceptable to me, even though,
selfishly speaking, I didn't want her to be "too proper."

This subtle contradiction in my heart might be related to my long-standing over-glorification of beautiful girls. After all,
my own experience is limited. I think perhaps all lustful ladies and noblewomen would reveal their lustful side.
Besides , why must we
associate natural sexual desires and the various expressions of sexual pleasure with "lust"? Lost in thought, I fell asleep, only remembering that I took Han Xin twice more that night in a half-asleep state.

When I woke up the next morning, Han Xin had already washed and dressed. She had braided her beautiful hair from yesterday into
two braids, with neat bangs framing her face. She wore a cream-colored wool sweater and very stylish black skinny
jeans. Her skin seemed even fairer than yesterday, and she had delicate features, exuding a ladylike demeanor. I secretly rejoiced; what a pleasure it would be to have such
a beautiful woman by my side! I decided to take her to Edinburgh, which had already saddened her, deep into the Scottish
Highlands .

I rented a Fiat from Avis through the hotel's reservation
(I used my Chinese driver's license for the paperwork; a Chinese driver's license is valid in the UK for one year, after which you have to take a test to exchange it for
a British license). We drove north, along Highway 9A for over three hours, until we reached
Ivennes, the central city of the Highlands. After a short rest, we took Highway 82A into the Great
Glen, following the shores of Loch Ness, famous for its mysterious monster.

The winding road was lined with rowan and burl oak trees, dark peaks rose against the gloomy
sky, and the black surface of Loch Ness was shrouded in mist, as if a huge monster might emerge from the water at any moment.

"Wow, look, the monster is coming out!" I exclaimed, startling Han Xin, who nervously burrowed into my arms.

"Hey, hey, I'm a weak-willed but upright person, be careful I don't lose control and flip the car over."

Han Xin chuckled and playfully punched me. Her gentle rubbing against my ear made me feel itchy all over, both physically and mentally.
My desire was aroused, and I suddenly drove the car to a recessed parking spot by Loch Ness and turned off the engine.

Good article, not bad, author must keep up the good work and strive to write more creative and heartfelt articles. Han Xin giggled and playfully punched me, very happy. Her gentle touch made me feel itchy all over,
arousing
asked me what I was doing, but I didn't answer, and unreasonably kissed her lips. She struggled a few times and then went limp in
my arms. I reclined her seat back and invaded her paradise in the car. At this moment, even if a water monster really appeared
, it wouldn't stop my actions.

Afterwards, I continued driving as if nothing had happened, but Han Xin blushed and remained silent for a long time.
I thought she was unhappy, so I gripped the steering wheel with my right hand and held her soft hand with my left,
saying, "I'm sorry, I made you unhappy."

She giggled, "What's there to apologize for? Can't I even think about my feelings?" I guessed she
was reliving the feeling from earlier, which made her feel relieved again.

That afternoon, we arrived in Fort Williams, a city nestled between mountains and the sea. We stayed that night
at a small hotel called Bank Street Lodge in the city center, and naturally, another passionate night ensued.

I tried my best to cheer Han Xin up, to help her forget yesterday's sadness. The next day, we drove south along Highway 82A
, passing through vast, shimmering lakes, majestic, mist-shrouded valleys, marshes covered in deep purple-red
heather , and ancient, quiet villages. Faced with the wondrous beauty of nature, I felt
how insignificant the human body was; only a rich inner world could truly express the vastness and boundlessness of life.

In a deep, secluded canyon, I took Han Xin in the car again. This time, we both entered
a state of transcendent, frenzied ecstasy, like wild beasts. The desolate, empty canyon, the snow-capped mountain peaks, and the ancient, ever-
blooming highland winds infused me with a rugged wildness. With my powerful thrusts, I released my primal energy into Han
Xin's exquisitely beautiful body.

After the ecstatic climax, we embraced, both drenched in sweat. We seemed to have entered a
vacuum , surrounded by an eerie silence after a thunderous roar. The towering mountains gave a dizzying feeling after a frenzied dance,
and then we heard the mournful sound of bagpipes, plaintive and plaintive, stirring my heart and leaving me choked with emotion
.

Suddenly, I saw the beautiful and captivating Mary, Queen of Scots; the elegant and graceful Shaanxi girl Yuan Jinya;
and the charming and beautiful Tianjin girl Han Xin beside me—all the women I cherished and blessed, overlapping and
swirling in the wind.

Han Xin and I both shed tears. Why didn't the author explain the story of "me" and that Shaanxi girl Yuan Jinya? I hope to write about it in another post, and make it as wonderful as this one. This long trip was truly extraordinary; I even had such good fortune with women. Traveling is so enjoyable! Why haven't I ever had such good luck?
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