True self-narration

I'm from the North, and while I possess a rugged inner strength, I'm outwardly shy and prone to blushing. Perhaps this is genetic, but I now believe it all stems from my environment. Different environments can change a person, shaping their personality and leading to different outcomes. My personality originates from my childhood environment. I was born in the countryside and lived with my parents in the city, facing hardships and financial difficulties. This frugal lifestyle instilled in me a strong sense of thrift from a young age. I never bought clothes from boutiques, unwilling to spend an extra penny. My family's economic circumstances and my parents' frugal behavior deeply ingrained this in me, like an iron lock that restrained my inner wildness and restlessness. From a young age, I was a dutiful and sensible child, never speaking to girls at school. After finishing my homework at home, besides watching TV, I would use any available small objects to make my own toys, design my own kingdom, and be my own ruler, letting my desires roam freely in my imagination. As I gradually grew up, a rebellious spirit began to stir. The rebelliousness of youth became a sharp blade, like a knife that could cut through iron, severing the shackles and the long-standing state of affairs that had persisted for so many years. The closed-off nature of high school education acted as a catalyst, making this rebellion even more intense and unstoppable. High school life was monotonous and dull, unlike the freedom of middle school or the carefree days of elementary school. Facing intense pressure to get into a good high school, we were all living a repetitive, zombie-like life, going from the dormitory to the classroom to the cafeteria, day after day, with only a weekend every three weeks. Everyone was struggling under this pressure; they either survived or were crushed. I didn't want to be crushed, but I also wanted some way to breathe, like needing a break in a classroom of a hundred people, or like prisoners in a prison cell having time to get some fresh air, but when that time came, you had to go back in on time, or else a beating awaited you. Faced with such a high school life, and with limited allowance, I only had two ways to pass the time: one was to buy pirated martial arts novels from street vendors, flipping through their rough pages and imagining myself surrounded by beautiful women, possessing unparalleled martial arts skills, effortlessly conquering women, and delivering fatal blows to enemies with a single move. The other, unavailable nighttime light, meant hiding in my bed, and the only other form of entertainment was a radio I bought for a few dollars from a small shop. This radio was probably my first sex education. Instead of sacred articles or beautiful music, the radio broadcasts were stories of how powerful I became after taking certain aphrodisiacs, how my wives screamed with pleasure, how I felt during penetration, and how grateful I was to "a certain company" for saving my life, rescuing my wife and marriage, while also buying more courses to consolidate the effects. A cheap book from a street vendor, costing four or five yuan, taught me to enjoy a life surrounded by beautiful women; the price of two dry cell batteries a week taught me what sex is and how to have sex. They say impulsiveness is the devil, and that's absolutely true. I was originally a believer in love, yearning for a pure, white-clad girl, as pure as a snow lotus, to slowly walk towards me. I believed our love would be as pure as Bing Xin's, slowly leading us to our destination, from "I want to touch you" to "kissing" to "loving"—this was the process I always admired, the outcome I always longed for. But a 16-year-old boy, during his rebellious teenage years, in such an environment, led by the devil, strode into the abyss of hell. It was a dark and windy night. Late at night, all was quiet. Under the dim streetlights, a figure stood, left hand in his pocket, right hand holding a cigarette, puffing out smoke. Some might think it was an ignorant teenager foolishly trying to look cool on the street, but his hand in his pocket was actually checking his money—how much could he afford to squander tonight? The books bought from street vendors and the radio he listened to in bed at night were no longer enough to satisfy the cravings of his inner demons. He needed something more stimulating to relax. Little did he know, this wouldn't relax him; instead, it would lead him further astray. The demons' advances weren't so easily stopped. Summer nights are suffocatingly hot. This summer was particularly stifling, the dreaded rain seeming endless. Tonight, he couldn't bear the classroom heat any longer. For the first time, he skipped class, skipping evening self-study, alone with sixty yuan he'd saved over three months in his pocket…Wandering alone at the crossroads, he first went to a fast food restaurant near the school and bought a plate of fried noodles. While waiting for his food, he inadvertently noticed a couple flirting at the table opposite him. The man boldly slipped his hand under the woman's skirt, and the woman was moaning softly, half-heartedly resisting. She was wearing a white dress, her hair tied in a simple ponytail, and flesh-colored stockings over her long, slender legs. The man in front of her was blocking her view, but he could still vaguely see her round, full breasts. He was surprised by how large they were, and he felt a little breathless looking at them. He also saw the man's hand roaming over the woman's plump thighs. In this way, the woman's delicate posture and the man's unrestrained boldness aroused his sixteen-year-old sexual desires. While he was eating, he kept hearing the woman across from him moaning. He would occasionally look up, stealing glances at the stockings on her snow-white thighs and the glimpses of her full breasts. His urges were already building, making his penis throb and erect. He secretly pressed down on his erect penis, trying to calm himself down, but it wouldn't listen. To cool himself down, he ordered two more bottles of beer and a side dish. At sixteen, he couldn't hold his liquor, and after two bottles, he was already feeling dizzy. When he looked up, the man and woman across from him had already left. Luckily, his penis seemed to have gone limp too. He finished his fried noodles and his beer. It was already dark. In this small, secluded fast-food restaurant, all the other customers had left, leaving only him and the proprietress who was checking the accounts. He stood up and went to pay. The proprietress looked up at him and said, "Noodles 4 yuan, and a plate of vegetables..." "Six yuan for the dishes, six yuan for two bottles of beer, sixteen yuan in total." He looked at the proprietress, who appeared to be around thirty years old, wearing short shorts that revealed her snow-white thighs. It was the first time he had been so close to a woman. His gaze roamed over her body. He looked at this still-attractive proprietress, her cool blue tank top making his blood boil again. His eyes lingered on her half-exposed snow-white breasts. "Kid, want a bite?" The question snapped him out of his daze. His face flushed instantly, and he immediately pulled out fifty yuan from his pocket and gave it to the proprietress. As she smiled and bent down to give him his change, he inadvertently caught a glimpse of the deep cleavage on her chest. After receiving his change, he ran away as fast as he could. However, the proprietress's snow-white breasts, the girl's shapely legs in flesh-colored stockings, and the man's wicked hand roaming over the woman's legs kept flashing through his mind. He wondered if he had changed, if he had become evil, if his mind was filled with thoughts of love and sex. Slightly intoxicated after drinking, alcohol, a catalyst for sin, made him even more unrestrained, forgetting his identity, his state of mind, and where he should go, letting desire and alcohol dictate his actions. Leaving the fast-food restaurant, he wandered the crossroads. After his meal, his mind was empty, filled by desire and alcohol. He stared blankly under the dim streetlights, a cigarette in his right hand, puffing out smoke, while his left hand counted the remaining money in his pocket—forty-four yuan. No matter how empty his mind, money was still the most important thing to him. With money, he could at least eat better and dress more expensively. As for entertainment, he no longer knew how to enjoy himself. Counting the remaining forty-four yuan, he didn't know what to do with it, what it could buy. Night had gradually fallen, and the number of people on the street had dwindled. He wandered aimlessly, the dim streetlights casting his shadow, which stretched and shortened repeatedly. Eventually, he found himself in a secluded spot. Along the roadside, small, red billboards flickered. The night was deep, and the few remaining shops had closed, leaving only these small billboards standing above their entrances, flashing as if murmuring their loneliness: "Liu Zongyuan Underwear Shop, Li Bai Barber Shop, Li Qingzhao and Her Husband." "Health Shop" Good heavens, so many poets are running businesses! Am I dreaming? Am I too drunk? I rubbed my eyes to calm myself. No, I haven't time-traveled. It seems I really have arrived in a poet's abode! They're all disgracing their ancestors, using the names of immortals as their own money-making schemes! If Li Bai saw this, he might even become a barber, which would be tolerable. But if those two saw the suffixes after their names, they'd be furious! I wonder if Li Qingzhao even knew what "couples' sexual health" meant. Looking at these signs, he smiled wryly and continued walking, thinking to himself that he'd wasted his education. He wondered what else he hadn't seen ahead. He wandered aimlessly along this street, where poets seemed to have been reborn and "abandoned poetry for business," idly glancing at the flashing signs on the roadside and storefronts. But soon, a strong wind arose, and the weather changed abruptly. Large raindrops pelted his face. This sudden change in weather left him somewhat bewildered. Without the catalyst of passion or the entanglement of emotions, he wouldn't run away to vent his frustrations. He only had the hope of survival, and the lack of hope for tomorrow left him nowhere to hide. His steps remained the same as when it wasn't raining, slowly wandering, letting the scenery pass by without stirring any ripples in his heart. Only those unintentional glances could make his heart surge like a song. The summer rain poured down harder and harder. Night deepened, and fewer and fewer pedestrians lingered on the streets. Caught completely off guard, they rushed through the downpour, oblivious to the slivers of air revealed by the wind-blown hems of their skirts, their t-shirts soaked through, their bodies exposed to the vast darkness. They ran recklessly towards a place where they could find temporary solace, or a place to rest and find peace, a refuge. And it was at this moment that he used the rain to watch. Women he had never seen before, never heard of before, flashed past him. One, two, three—he counted, counting the women who passed through the darkness before him. The rain continued to fall, but the fourth woman still hadn't appeared. He had slowly walked across most of the street when a conspicuous sign caught his eye: "Li Yuanyuan Video Hall: All-night screenings tonight! 8:20 PM: Perverted Sex Demon vs. Beautiful Detective; 10 PM: Patriotic film; 12 AM: Qin Shi Huang's Lustful Bestiality..." The torrential rain didn't wash away his impure thoughts; each word before him only fueled his desires, fueling his wicked little devil. He stopped, looking up at the sky. In the rainy sky, he couldn't see the Big Dipper he always looked for as a child, nor the Moon Palace where Chang'e lived. Only the relentless raindrops blinded him. He looked down, raised his hand, and checked his watch. It was already 9:40. He didn't want to go back to the prison of school anymore, but home? He couldn't go back now. How could he go home when he wasn't at school? He thought this place would be a quiet refuge from the night and the relentless rain. He looked up and saw a sign that read, "Li Yuanyuan Video Hall, please go to the second floor, turn right, go straight, the last door is it." He went upstairs and headed towards the video hall. Walking down the dimly lit corridor, the air was filled with various foul smells: the smell of smoke, the unpleasant stench of men's sweat, and a faint, pungent odor like semen. He endured these smells and tried not to think about them anymore. When he reached the door, there was a table in front of it. A man around forty years old, bald, shirtless, and covered in flabby flesh, sat next to him, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. When he saw me approach, he said, "Kid, are you over eighteen?" "I've been over for a long time," I said, mustering my courage. "Five yuan for unlimited viewing, until tomorrow morning when they clear out." "Okay," I said, taking out ten yuan and giving it to him. "Want something to eat?" "No." He gave me five yuan in change. And so, for the first time in his life, he entered a video hall. A few people were scattered around the small room, making the air even more unpleasant. He found a spot at the very back and sat down. On the screen, a perverted man was groping a bound woman's breasts through her clothes. The woman's cries and screams echoed throughout the room. The man wickedly rubbed his right ear—a habit he performed before each crime. He picked up a fruit knife from the table, brandished it in front of the woman, and then slowly slid the knife towards her pale neck, gently placing it there before sliding it down. In that casual movement, he severed the left half of the strap of her dress.He slid down halfway, revealing a corner of the woman's snow-white breasts. The woman's breasts trembled slightly, and she cried even harder. But her tears only fueled the perverted man's lust. He thrust even more frantically down, his hands smearing over the woman's body. Through the exposed corner, he inserted his hand into the woman's upper body from above, violently tearing out her snow-white bra from her clothes. Then, the perverted man frantically reached his hand into the woman's skirt, slowly pulling out her white panties between her snow-white, slender legs. Thus, the woman's body was left with only a semi-transparent, tattered outer garment and a draped dress. The perverted man unbuckled his belt, pulled down his pants, and forcefully lifted the woman's body, simultaneously lifting her skirt and thrusting his body forward. Just then, the door to the room suddenly opened, and a woman in a red dress rushed in. Seeing the scene before her, grief and anger overwhelmed her, and tears streamed down her face. She glared at the perverted man, screaming wildly, and ran over, quickly grabbing a fruit knife from the table. In a flash, the knife fell, and the perverted man screamed in agony as his genitals were severed from his body. Then, the sirens of police sirens slowly rose, and the mutilated perverted man was taken away in a police car, while the two remaining, also mutilated, sisters embraced and wept. Before the movie's ending had even finished, a line of text appeared on the screen: "Patriotic Education Film Broadcast on Time." He thought to himself, "A movie, I've only seen the ending, and it's not even over yet." He glanced at his watch, bewildered; it was exactly ten o'clock. Then a woman appeared on the screen. She was fairly attractive, with a slender figure, but she just sat there, her fair thighs exposed beneath her pink miniskirt, muttering something he couldn't understand. Next, a man appeared in the frame, sitting next to the woman. Without saying a word, he reached out and touched her legs, then moved upwards to her breasts. While touching her full breasts, he kissed her red lips. One moment their tongues were entwined, the next they were sucking each other's saliva. Then the man began to undress her. Soon, the woman's fair body was left with only two pieces of clothing: a pink bra covering her full breasts and pink panties covering her most private parts. The woman smiled shyly and lowered her head, letting the man do as he pleased. Without a word, the man first removed the woman's bra, revealing her snow-white, full breasts to the screen without any concealment. Pink nipples and erect breasts stood proudly. The camera slowly zoomed in, the woman's full breasts almost filling the entire screen. Pink nipples and light gray areolas—this was the first time he had seen a complete woman's breasts so clearly displayed before him. He felt a reaction in his own groin; his face flushed, and he awkwardly lowered his head, placing his hand on his genitals in the darkness. Soon, the room was filled with the woman's rising and falling moans. He looked up and saw that the woman was sitting there naked, her legs spread wide, her private parts completely exposed on the screen. Beneath a thick patch of dark pubic hair was a pink cleavage, her thin labia glued together by her own clear, sticky fluid. This was the first time he had ever seen a woman's private parts. Suddenly, he felt a tingling sensation in his groin, and a warm, viscous liquid soaked his underwear. The man's hand was now inside the woman, caressing her thick pubic hair. His fingers slowly parted the two pink labia, penetrating her most mysterious and precious opening, drawing out even more fluid with each slow thrust. Seeing this, he felt an inexplicable, indescribable feeling. Watching the man mechanically thrusting into the woman's body on the screen, and hearing her wanton moans, he abruptly stood up, rushed out of the video arcade, and onto the rainy street. Even at sixteen, his mind remained unsettled. The rain had soaked him through, but the image of the woman's beautiful naked body, her full breasts, and her pink, wet vulva remained vivid in his mind. For the first time, he deeply remembered the woman's body, remembered that a man's impulse and desire lay in thrusting into a woman. In an instant, his face contorted as if possessed by a demon, a sinister smile spreading across his face. From that moment on, his life was forever changed. Every woman who came after him became a tool for his sexual gratification, and none of the women who appeared in his life could escape his clutches.

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True self-narration

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