[Urban] Adult Officialdom (Complete) - 16-18

Chapter 10 of my public relations career:

She was Hu Lan, the top singer at the hotel nightclub. She licked her lips in front of the bathroom mirror; the lipstick was the kind with exceptionally strong adhesion, perfectly preserving her heart-shaped lips.

She only touched up her face with powder, leaving a faint trace of weariness and satisfaction. Singer Hu Lan was our boss Liu Changxiong's mistress, and it was said she was about to become his wife. Liu Changxiong's endless divorce case with his wife was nearing its end, and years ago, after winning the city's Outstanding Singer Award, Hu Lan had openly lived with Liu Changxiong. A large photograph of her, feigning an innocent smile, was displayed in the hotel nightclub's glass window, attracting many acquaintances and friends to come and see.

The horrification of being spied on made me uneasy, while A-Jie seemed unaffected, only a little weary after the passion subsided. He sat quietly in a corner, resigned to his fate. Seeing me approach, he made room for me. We exchanged ambiguous smiles and raised our glasses in a lukewarm greeting. Sound and heat swirled in the air, the mingled scents of sweat, alcohol, and roses rising and falling.

The curtain rose, the lights shone, and comedic clowns and tragic queens appeared, the audience shouting and clamoring.

The women Zheng Ming had brought had already drunk quite a bit; empty bottles piled up under the table. They loudly called for waiters to come and collect the bottles before opening more. Some of these women were thin and bony, others had round faces, some wore heavy makeup, others were demure and submissive. But no matter what kind of woman they were, once they came to the glittering Swan Club bar, they always seemed somewhat suspicious, with a provocative and unrestrained demeanor.

A-Jie silently smoked many cigarettes, filling the ashtray in front of him. He looked down at his knee; a long brown hair still clung there. He picked it up with two fingers, blew on it, and tossed it away. He shifted his hips closer to me and began to speak. "You saw it all?"

He coughed, and I nodded. "Ah Jie, she really likes you. She's definitely a unique woman, very charming."

"Do you know who she is?"

He sighed.

I nodded and said to him kindly, "Ah Jie, you're dancing on a knife's edge."

He nodded too. I admitted I easily attract women, and many women see me as an enemy, wishing they could send me to the slaughterhouse. As he spoke, he groaned, seemingly recalling something from the past. He rattled off a string of words, his mouth moving like a sewing machine, rapid and dense, leaving no room for pause.

We were the kind of people who fell in love at first sight. She had just won a singing award, and the boss threw her a celebratory banquet. Zhang Yan brought all the men from our group to attend. After the meal, there was a dance party, and the first dance was with her. She not only sang well but also danced quite well. She smiled throughout the dance, her eyes fixed on me like burning peach blossoms. I felt uncomfortable and dared not look at her too long, afraid my eyes would glare.

She was bold; her body slumped against me, but I dared not embrace her tightly, lest our bond crumble, and the dance would become incredibly tiring. She whispered in my ear, "Tormenting a beautiful woman is a mistake, even a sin."

I felt a chill run through me; I feared my appearance wouldn't suit her. "Come with me to the restroom,"

she said, her voice bright, her eyes sparkling like a dove about to take flight. A voice inside me whispered: "Coward, all talk and no action." Then she walked away first. I watched her lovely back disappear into the chaotic crowd, like a little girl mustering courage to reach for her beloved toy.

It was in the bathroom too. When I followed her in, she only made a feigned "ah" before obediently letting me push her down onto the toilet. She eagerly spread her legs, and I pounced on her. I didn't even have time to see her expression, to understand her desire. I swiftly and forcefully pulled off her panties. At that moment, I felt no panic. I didn't understand why I felt such madness for this woman, my passion overflowing.

Our bodies quickly merged, awkward yet passionate. I worked like a laborer, sweating profusely as she moaned excitedly. When the rumbling of the toilet tank came from next door, my passion erupted. A dizzying wave of pleasure washed over me, and I stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in a hallucination of physical regeneration. She quickly got ready, standing before me, smooth and alluring, gazing at me with those bewitching eyes and saying, "You're amazing, you brought me to climax in no time."

Hu Lan was not only beautiful and radiant, but also a sex symbol in bed, enjoying imaginative and unconventional sexual encounters. With me, she not only enjoyed the intoxicating service of a man, but also felt a deep, tender affection. She was a sex maniac; whenever she called to ask me out, she said she was already soaking wet. We were truly in love back then, and still are now.

I soon found myself plunged into a green, stinking pond. When I discovered she was plotting to marry the boss, I couldn't bear it any longer. I withdrew my humiliated feelings and resolved to leave her. She couldn't live without me because the boss couldn't satisfy her; she wanted me to be her mistress forever. I hate her, hate her vanity, hate her hedonism. The only thing I don't hate is the way we made love. I've never met a woman as alluring as her. When I buried my head between her legs, I knew that no matter the consequences, I would never give up this woman.

I saw in Ah Jie's drunken, hazy eyes that things had gone awry at this point. A chill ran down my spine. He had openly fallen in love with the boss's woman; this had degenerated into something far more than just a sexual game. The smoke filled the void before me, allowing me to remain silent. Saying anything would be useless; I had no power to change them. I felt Ah Jie was on the edge of a precipice, about to slip away at any moment. The momentum of his fall was so immense that if I tried to pull him back, I would undoubtedly fall with him.

Dongzi and the other women got really into it. They started playing drinking games and swishing their glasses around. Mei lost and pointed at us, saying, "That's not fair! Why aren't you drinking?"

The other women chimed in, and A-Jie and I joined in. A-Jie kept losing, and he happily kept adding more alcohol and food to his stomach. The alcohol was burning in his eyes, and his head was starting to smoke like a boiler.

He seemed to be burning up, muttering to himself, and started taking off his clothes. He took off his suit, tie, shirt, and vest. The weathered A-Jie was jumping around taking off his clothes in front of a group of women whose scalps were tingling and whose lower abdomens were burning, looking more like a stripper than a genuine drunkard.

“Ah Jie, take off your pants, I’ll give you five hundred yuan,”

Zheng Ming said, pulling out banknotes from his wallet. Five crisp hundred-yuan bills were neatly placed under the wine glass. A woman in red became even more enthusiastic, saying, “I’ll give you a thousand, take off your underwear too.”

Ah Jie, whose pants were half off, hesitated. The group of women suddenly became excited, shaking their bodies as if electrocuted and letting out sharp screams. Their faces turned blue, their bodies stiffened, and the man’s naked body was like a spark, instantly igniting their already burning bodies and further stimulating their parched souls.

Ah Jie simply pulled his underwear down a little, then quickly pulled it up again, and the women with glazed eyes clung to him relentlessly. The woman in red waved the banknotes in her hand, beckoning Ah Jie to come closer, and actually pulled down his underwear, stuffing the banknotes inside. The other women cheered loudly, their noise drowning out the bar's music. The waiters watched silently, for this group of customers was spending lavishly, their table laden with the bar's most expensive drinks and most extravagant food. The waiters dared not intervene, even though the group was making a racket louder than a pack of dogs.

Dongzi and Zhengming, deeply in love, nestled in a secluded corner, occasionally teasing each other's bodies. Mei, heavily made up, her eyes gleaming with a drunken gleam, looked like a tempting bombshell, eager to offer herself to a man. She picked up a bottle of beer from the table and moved to sit next to me. "Would you like some?"

She swirled the bottle in her hand, her face blurred in the soft light, smiling mysteriously. I didn't think there was anything wrong with the suggestion, so I readily accepted; after all, I wouldn't be the one to pass out. We each had a bottle of beer, drinking straight from the bottle—it wasn't elegant, but it was quite enjoyable. Slowly, the alcohol kicked in, and we laughed heartily, saying things like, "The beer's good." "Let's have some more," and other trivial things.

My body gradually relaxed, while she seemed quite drunk, her limp body nestled in my arms, one hand tightly gripping my shoulder. I smelled her increasingly strong scent, the scent of her flesh emanating from every pore, from her eyes, from her long hair. Even after the bottle was empty, we remained in that close embrace.

She put down the bottle, seemingly struggling to consider her next move.

Night passed, and dawn, like a giant, intoxicating gardenia, burst through the window, through the gaps in the red and black curtains. A lingering darkness hung in the air when a sharp, piercing scream jolted me awake. I'd spent the entire night curled up in the sofa chair, my sleep already restless, and this shrill scream instantly triggered a thought of danger and the need to escape.

Chen Lixia was curled up in a ball around the headboard, her smooth thighs exposed. "What did you do to me?"

her voice was hoarse, as if she were still shaken.

"You were drunk,"

I said, pointing to a glass of water on the bedside table. She lifted the sheet and peered down to her stomach, checking if her most intimate parts had been violated. This almost made me laugh; she looked like a young girl

experiencing her first love. She clutched the sheet tightly to her chest, her face reflecting the lingering illusions of a deep, clear sleep, her eyes searching for the faintest clues and memories of the previous night. Her shirt, bra, skirt, garter belt, and panties were scattered all over the carpet. I tidied them up, somewhat shyly but earnestly. I noticed she was watching; it's always embarrassing for a man to tidy up like that. When I picked up her small black panties, her face flushed crimson.

"Go away,"

she said loudly. I was stunned, puzzled. She gestured, "Let me get up and get dressed."

I chuckled, shaking my head and saying, "I'm not leaving. What's the big deal? You let me see everything last night."

"Okay, okay, just stay there and close your eyes,"

she said, as if coaxing a child.

I took a bathrobe from the closet and tossed it to her. She hesitated as she caught it, but then turned around, revealing only her pale, curvaceous back to me. The large bathrobe billowed out like a curtain falling, like a net ensnaring a swimming fish. The fish swam into the deep water, its bathrobe billowing, and soon, only her voluptuous, curvaceous body was visible, writhing faintly within the robe.

I nervously left the room and headed for the bathroom. Hot water gushed out, and steam slowly condensed on the only large mirror in the bathroom, obscuring my reflection. "You really didn't do anything, did you?"

she shouted at the bathroom door. I knew she was starting to regret her drunkenness, but I didn't regret my actions last night. Thankfully, I hadn't done anything; otherwise, who knows what she might have become now that she was sober.

I noticed she was secretly wiping away tears with a towel behind my back. Was it gratitude, fear, or some inexplicable sense of humiliation? Her cold, icy face was unbearable. Women can be truly unpredictable sometimes. A woman like her is more like a drifting cloud, or a flickering ember, forever elusive, constantly shifting.

"What do you want me to do to believe you?"

I tried to sound sincere, but she retorted angrily, "Why did you take my clothes off?"

"Look at the state you've become,"

I said, pointing to the wet dress hanging on the chair, stained with vomit from her drunken state.

Her eyes were brimming with tears, but they didn't fall. She threw herself onto the pillow and sobbed uncontrollably, her shoulders shaking as her cries grew louder.

I rushed over, touching her shoulders in a panic, wondering why she was crying so bitterly. She turned around, her face streaked with tears. I hugged her. "Forgive me,"

I kept saying, but she was cold and stiff, like a dead baby, which only made it worse.

"You didn't do anything wrong, and you don't need my forgiveness,"

she said, pushing me away and getting off the bed to pick up her underwear and put it on. "Aren't you going to take a shower?"

I asked, pointing towards the bathroom. She nodded absently.

Suddenly, she said coquettishly, "Stay away from me."

The light filtered down, illuminating her pale face and open collar, revealing what appeared to be a tear clinging to her snow-white breasts.

Emerging from the bathroom, she was like a different person; her face regained its usual elegance and confidence, except for a noticeable dark circle under her eye. To my surprise, she was only wearing a bra and panties, practically naked. She looked in the mirror, applying makeup and carefully examining her dark circles. "I cried because I'm so ugly, you know?"

she said. "No, you're not ugly at all."

At that moment, her outstretched back was alluring; her buttocks, like two round balls, pressed together, formed two swollen hemispheres, slightly upturned, their full shape exuding a hungry desire.

I embraced her nearly naked body with overwhelming sweetness. She didn't struggle, but suddenly turned around quickly, tentatively looking into my eyes. At that moment, our eyes never left each other, a long, unending gaze like one mirror meeting another. I saw myself reflected in her eyes.

“You really seem like a gentleman?”

she said, her eyes like bottomless pits, trying to hold everything.

“I’m not, but I don’t take advantage of others,”

I said. She took a breath and whispered, “Let go, okay?”

I refused, our bodies stiffening. “You know I won’t refuse, so why make up such a ridiculous excuse?”

she said slowly, her lips rising to find another warm, moist pair. I hesitated for a moment, then took them.

Her tongue, soft as a clam, swirled in my mouth. I sucked, a strange surge of heat rising from my lower abdomen to my neck. I felt thirsty, my Adam’s apple bobbing. My hands began to knead her buttocks, then one hand slipped inside her panties, carefully caressing her lower abdomen. Her pubic hair was short and thick, like the withered stalks of a freshly harvested field.

It tickled my palm, and as I moved downwards, I touched a wet spot. My fingers felt a novel stimulation, and a slight spasm. It was shamelessly thickening, eager to penetrate further. She covered my hand and forcefully pulled it away. Her

snow-white body and deep, moist eyes made me presumptuously assume that the heat within her was inexhaustible, and the fire of desire in her eyes boundless. Then she twisted her body, breaking free from my embrace. She said it was for my own good, and I would understand later. (

Public Relations Career Chapter 11)

A light rain fell, the weather slowly turning cold. The changing seasons weren't obvious in this southern city, and the women in the bar covered much of their smooth, exposed skin.

I ordered a chilled juice. In the time after dinner, there were only a few customers, and it wasn't quite lively yet. I usually whiled away the time in this relaxed and lazy atmosphere. Zhang Yan clapped her hands, drawing everyone to her. In the dim light, she smiled charmingly, her beautiful eyes sparkling—a truly smug and beautiful woman.

"I'll transfer your earnings to your accounts. Check them yourselves, and let me know if there are any discrepancies,"

she said loudly. Dongzi, still basking in the afterglow of his birthday celebration, nonchalantly agreed and hurried upstairs to the card table. A-Jie seemed to already know he'd gotten the least, and slumped onto the sofa with a helpless expression. Zhang Yan approached him, scolding, "A-Jie, what's wrong with you? You only earned so little! You're so stingy, but I still need to keep the revenue. Don't be so dejected all the time."

The others either shouted happily or walked away with forced smiles. Zhang Yan approached me and said kindly, "Alan, you've lost weight again this month."

"I know,"

I said. "It's getting cold, women's hormones decrease, and they're less restless."

"What nonsense! When it's cold, women need a man's warm embrace even more,"

she said sharply, raising an eyebrow.

Just then, Ye Xiaoru walked towards me. She was wearing a white turtleneck sweater and a tight-fitting short skirt, her expression focused and friendly, as if she had just casually come over, which made her seem very approachable.

"Alan, how have you been lately?"

She casually and reservedly patted my shoulder and nodded to Zhang Yan, who smiled at her. "Let Alan keep you company, have fun!"

Then, she fluttered away like a butterfly.

We found a quiet place to sit down, and she asked, "What would you like to drink?"

"Anything,"

I said simply. She ordered two cocktails, indicating she didn't want to stay long. "Alan, I heard you're in love, and the girl is quite something."

She seemed very happy, her eyes sparkling with a light that bewildered me. Her tone suddenly became much more friendly towards me, but I felt even more distant from

her. "Who told you that? That's nonsense," I replied.

She gestured excitedly towards another corner of the bar, where a raised platform held a brand-new, gleaming piano, played by a young man. His thin body trembled, with a neurotic quality that was both captivating and frightening, a carefree, youthful exuberance. His long, black hair swung, and a series of flowing notes swept over her with a nightmarish atmosphere.

Ye Xiaoru's eyes welled up with tears. The young man had indeed stirred her heart, captivating her completely. The noise and worries outside seemed to fade away, plunging her into a hazy, unreal abyss of tranquility.

"He's so cool. He has an artistic air about him, something you don't have,"

Ye Xiaoru exclaimed sincerely, her voice still trembling. I felt a lingering resentment, along with an inexplicable unease.

The young man who attracted this woman's repeated visits, in my opinion, possessed no extraordinary qualities. He simply knew how to act like a shameless, selfish, greedy, and vain little boy in front of these mature women, intentionally or unintentionally displaying his many misfortunes and troubles to gain their sympathy and generosity.

When he first arrived, he was like a withered, inconspicuous blade of grass, lacking the vibrant red and yellow sap of a mature plant, and unable to skillfully greet acquaintances or strangers.

At that time, I thought he was a very honest young man, and it was in this setting that I formally introduced him to Ye Xiaoru.

As for my ulterior motives at the time, I simply adhered to a customer-first attitude, hoping to attract more generous customers like Ye Xiaoru.

The young man's loose, long hair draped over a thin black sweater; tall and elegant, he seemed incredibly novel in the bar, yet undeniably exuded a relaxed and indifferent air. When I introduced him to her, Ye Xiaoru's mouth was half-open with nervousness, and I could vaguely see her tongue rapidly licking her lips. I could keenly sense her unease and surprise; clearly, the young man's youth and outstanding appearance had exceeded her expectations.

She immediately changed her demeanor, picked up her glass, and expertly clinked glasses with him, drinking and making merry. I listened intermittently as she bombarded him with questions, seemingly eager to know everything about his family history, as if they were kindred spirits. Finding myself superfluous in the conversation, I withdrew. A short while later, I saw them leave the bar hand in hand.

The young man, eyes closed, tossed his long hair, and the clear, pure sound of the piano resonated deep within our hearts, evoking memories that were both profound and unspeakable, as sweet and enchanting as the mountains and the sea. Like the gentle whisper of the night, everyone present was moved. As the piece ended, he stepped down from the piano, and a crowd surged to greet him. He was clearly a figure of interest, even though this place didn't acknowledge any central authority or authority.

I casually glanced at his tall, slender figure. His face held a maturity beyond his years, suggesting a deep-seated shrewdness, and he always seemed to attract women. I felt a strange jealousy towards him. For someone like me, lacking in cunning and disliking the relentless pursuit of specific goals, I always instinctively disliked certain people, like young men. I couldn't help but feel a sense of loss.

Ye Xiaoru pulled him close, snuggling her delicate body into his arms. He picked up a wine glass from the table, took a small sip, and whispered something in her ear. She laughed happily and pinched his cheek, saying, "I love seeing you jealous."

"Let's go, to your place or a hotel room?"

he asked, oblivious to everyone else, a foolish smugness on his face.

Around the Mid-Autumn Festival, Zhang Yan hosted a networking event for female entrepreneurs in the hotel's banquet hall. All the male escorts were present, a grand procession to support these wealthy women who had made significant contributions to the business world. Everyone was dressed in suits and ties, looking like twins. The opulent banquet hall was filled with music, dancing, and laughter. Among the guests were celebrities, wealthy individuals, heads of various conglomerates, and CEOs, all dressed in glamorous attire, like blooming peach blossoms on a spring evening. Vice Mayor Wang Chuping was also present, along with leaders from relevant departments. Television coverage was inevitable, and Li Jun also came. Their faces wore eloquent yet foolishly smug expressions, completely out of place with our group. The ability to mobilize such a large group of people to add glamour to the event demonstrated Zhang Yan's exceptional networking skills; at least her position as a director was well-deserved and fulfilled.

As is customary, the leaders would give speeches and toasts before we raised our glasses and began to eat. Wang Chuping, dressed in a navy blue suit, his chin clean-shaven, spoke with a calm and dignified air. We, the others, scattered among the women's tables. Li Jun sat at the table opposite me. Her professional attire contrasted sharply with the glamorous, elegant, and sexy ladies inside. She sat upright in her high-backed chair, serene and serene, her dark, bright almond-shaped eyes gazing meaningfully at the stage. This not only struck me as refreshing but also stirred my heart.

Wang Chuping finally finished his eloquent welcome speech, which was met with thunderous applause, immediately pushing the atmosphere to a climax. Amidst the clinking of glasses and lively conversation, the banquet hall was filled with gentle music like a sea breeze, dazzling lights like neon lights, and even more radiant women and handsome men, gentler than a sea breeze and more dazzling than neon lights. The menu was agreed upon several days in advance, and the format was based on the grand etiquette for welcoming VIPs. Even the waiters here had changed into new uniforms and were moving around the hall in high spirits.

This was my first time experiencing such a large banquet. The table setting—the elegance of the fruits, the fineness of the cold dishes, the beauty of the main courses, the exquisiteness of the side dishes, and the ingenuity of the desserts—was truly breathtaking and left me in awe. Seeing how elegantly they ate, clinking glasses seven or eight times before finishing a single glass of wine, as if afraid of making a fool of themselves or being seen as shallow, I ate with extra care, always moving a beat slower than the others.

The banquet concluded with a bowl of eight-treasure porridge for each person, after which the main event of the social gathering began. The lights changed to vibrant colors, the tables in the center were removed, and pleasant dance music began to play. As if pre-arranged, Wang Chuping led Zhang Yan by the hand onto the dance floor, where

they danced gracefully to the music. Zhang Yan wore a dazzling red evening gown with black trim, particularly her high, white breasts, as smooth as snow and as delicate as cheese, with a deep cleavage that was utterly captivating. Wang Chuping stood ramrod straight, yet his steps were remarkably relaxed. His gaze was fixed on Zhang Yan's nose, displaying a standard and polite demeanor. Led by them, a group of beauties also glided onto the dance floor, each nestled with their partner. I looked around; my companions, who had come with me, were already being devoured by the beauties like rare animals.

Li Jun walked towards me. She wore a light green suit with black trim, without any overpowering necklaces or glittering diamond rings. Her already pretty face was only slightly adorned with arched eyebrows and a touch of eyeshadow, yet it made her appear even more radiant and captivating. Right in front of me, the soft light bathed her in a subtle fragrance. She extended her slender, white fingers towards me, while I remained somewhat dazed. We hadn't been in contact since that encounter, but she was like a long-dormant spring in my heart, appearing in my dreams during the quiet of the night, when my heart was pounding. “Sir, may I have this dance?”

she asked teasingly. Now, standing before me, she was more real and more beautiful than in my dreams. How could I not be breathless and my palms sweaty?

“Hmm—”

Li Jun touched my stiff arm, and I finally came to my senses. I grasped her delicate hand, not even having time to feel whether her soft palm was warm or cold, before she rolled into my arms like a bird spreading its wings.

She wrapped her arm around my shoulder, and we stepped onto the dance floor together. Her steps were graceful and precise, though she kept glancing at my face. I smiled back, trying to keep my steps elegant, my gaze fixed on the ceiling, avoiding her intense gaze. “You’re not dancing well enough, you’re too nervous,”

she said softly. I quickly adjusted my steps and tightened my grip on her waist.

I said, "It really doesn't feel right to have you call me 'sir'."

"If I don't call you 'sir,' what should I call you?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she couldn't help but laugh, her pretty face becoming even more radiant, her shyness exuding a thousand charms. I was stunned, my expression becoming even more embarrassed.

At this moment, the music changed, the rhythm becoming lighter, and she gave me half her body. I naturally wrapped my arms around her slender waist, and her high, firm breasts pressed against my right chest. I felt a little restless, carefully moving my hips while observing her facial expression. She closed her eyelashes, her face filled with ecstasy.

Gradually, the melody became wilder, and I held her hand, twisting and turning freely. In this joyous crowd, I wanted to be intimate and proper with her, like a couple of refined and unique individuals. We spun around the edge of the dance floor, and under my steady and powerful guidance, she became light and agile, making her demeanor even more graceful and free. Her body pressed closer to mine, her slender waist swaying gently, and an unprecedented energy radiated from her delicate form.

I felt the warmth and breath of her body, and I was so excited I could hardly contain myself, but I didn't lose my composure. I resisted the surge of passion within me, and finally the music stopped. She returned to her seat, drenched in sweat, turning back to speak to me as she went. "Actually, you danced quite well,"

she said. I helped her adjust her chair, saying, "It's an honor to dance with you."

"Then you have to stay with me, dance until the end of the ball,"

she said, half-jokingly, half-seriously. Small candles were placed on each table, their flickering flames seeming to stir up desires, along with fine wine, flowers, and various drinks—a romantic and intoxicating atmosphere. In this luxurious and decadent atmosphere, one is surrounded by intoxicating and exotic scents—the fragrance of flowers and women's perfume.

The music softens, but the lights dim, and the men and women, who had been frenzied, become tender and affectionate, moving slowly in pairs, embracing tightly. I gestured to her, gently taking her fingertips with my left hand and placing my right hand on her waist, guiding her like an ice skater. The music flowed lightly, and the lights dimmed along with the dreamlike melody. While not pitch black, it was still difficult to see clearly face to face. The darkness fueled our passion, and it made us more open and unrestrained.

We moved closely together, circling behind a pillar at the edge of the ballroom. There we stopped, not as if we were dancing, but simply huddled together, swaying our hips, and for a while, just swinging our legs in place. She tilted her head back at me, and as she looked up, a captivating gaze swept into my heart. I withdrew my hand from her waist and carefully placed it around her shoulder, feeling the fullness and roundness of her body, savoring the immense happiness of holding such a beauty in my arms.

I gazed into her eyes with deep affection, as if a piece of honey had melted in her heart, melting her entire soul, body, and bones. I could feel a shiver of joy emanating from her. I deliberately kissed her forehead lightly. "No, kiss me more intensely,"

she protested fiercely, standing on tiptoe to press her parted lips against mine. My passion seemed to explode; I suddenly wrapped my arms tightly around her and fiercely kissed those dreamlike red lips.

Her tongue, like a nimble little beast, danced uncontrollably in my burning mouth. Her lips were so soft. I hadn't expected her to be so impulsive. She ruffled my dry, soft hair, letting her pubic bone rub against my thigh, and another wave of pleasure surged through my lower abdomen. I was conscious, yet also drifting with the tide, able to control myself, yet also letting go. We kissed passionately behind that pillar, time seemingly standing still, the dark night shimmering with a beautiful light. I wished I could prolong this moment into an eternal century. Then, as if unable to control my rising emotions, I plunged my tongue deep into her mouth, swirling it around. My teeth trembled as I gently bit her lips, my hands grasping her hair and caressing her waist. This continued until she let out a soft moan, her body going limp and almost collapsing to the ground.

"You're such a bad man,"

she murmured, her face glistening with sweat from excitement. Just then, I saw the little boy smile at me. He was with a short, plump woman, passing by the pillar. I could see him winking at me mischievously. I returned his knowing smile and hugged her even tighter. That passionate kiss seemed to throw my soul into the sky. My soul, my life, floated leisurely in the air, looking down at the miracle I had created. I felt that the scenery of life was incomparably beautiful, without the slightest fear.

Chapter 12 of My Public Relations Career

: Being called "Mr." This title felt foreign to me. In our line of work, nominally we are employees of the hotel's public relations department, and to outsiders, we would sound like white-collar workers. But in reality, we are engaged in the business of selling our bodies and souls.

To our faces, guests politely call us "Young Master" or "Young Master"; but once we step outside, they call us "male prostitutes" and "male wolves." I like people to call me "Mr." It sounds more intimate than calling me "brother," without that sense of humiliation, at least it conveys an element of equality.

I will always cherish the vivid memory of that Mid-Autumn Festival night. At the dance that day, countless ladies with long or short hair, black, blonde, and brown hair, alluring faces, firm hips, and high breasts, competed in their dance moves and their ability to woo men. The music slowed, then shifted to powerful jazz; the rich, fragrant air seemed to hold countless tipsy sprites, their faces flushed, fluttering their wings.

We, however, secretly escaped. Walking on the street, the night wind whipped at our faces, and the surrounding silence held a unique kind of late-night pleasure. I held her damp little hand tightly, and she slowly but firmly took my arm. We walked aimlessly in silence. I wanted to say something, but I struggled to find the words. A woman as exceptional and unconventional as her often filled me with a trembling anxiety in her presence.

"Alan," she suddenly said, "I think you're sometimes quite shy, which is quite disproportionate to your physique."

"No one has ever said that about me before,"

I replied. “Don’t be nervous, I never meant to belittle you.”

She stopped walking, then said seriously, “It was your well-behaved, boyish image that attracted me.”

“Do you seem more mature than me?”

I asked. She smiled and said, “Of course, I may only be a little older than you, but I’ve definitely experienced much more.”

She said she had many suitors, but she could never decide which type of person she was right for. Others only saw her glamorous exterior; no one understood the loneliness in her heart. The dark street intentionally or unintentionally created a dreamlike, perfect atmosphere, making one lazily sink into it. The temperature began to drop sharply at night, and the sweat from dancing had turned cold and stuck to my body.

She sneezed, and I solemnly hugged her. We looked at each other, and the tenderness flowing from her eyes made me feel happy. Our tongues touched softly and moistly.

We argued fiercely about how to take her home, and in the end, she compromised on the condition that I couldn’t go to see her or call her. She said her job didn't allow her to answer those pointless calls, and she often had no choice in the matter. I expressed my understanding, and we didn't speak again until we got out of the taxi, our bodies pressed tightly together, sometimes pecking each other's lips on the cheek.

Every day I saw her radiant smile on the city's news broadcast, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of distress and confusion. This feeling was hard to shake off, enveloping all my senses, tender and lingering.

Out of some kind of excited unease, I constantly hoped for her call, while simultaneously fearing all the possibilities that might come. My throbbing and restless heart was on full display, and Lao Zhao laughed, saying I'd seen a ghost.

After that night, rumors spread that I had fallen in love with a beautiful TV anchorwoman, and that we were even discussing marriage. The rumors were rampant, and he must have heard about them too.

The dormitory was quiet, filled with the smell of dust, cooking oil, and alcohol. The tables and chairs were dull and lifeless, and a slipper lay beside the broom, next to a toy mouse. Old Zhao lay on the bed, covered with an old brown blanket. A wine bottle lay askew on the headboard, and a small bowl held three or four peanuts. "Listen carefully, I'm moving out,"

I said through gritted teeth.

"Fine, you think moving out will make you glamorous, but that stench of yours won't go away."

His smile faded, his eyes becoming cloudy. His right hand found the remaining wine in the bottle, he took a sip, some spilling from his lips. I leaned against the headboard, my feet propped on the neatly folded blankets, looking weary and helpless.

"Don't take it too seriously. Treat her like a guest, each taking what they need, payment settled, maybe give her a discount,"

he said between coughs, instantly extinguishing any tenderness that had just risen in my heart. After coughing, he seemed to catch his breath, and his voice softened: "Take a good look at yourself. What kind of person are you? All you have is a passable face and that valiant thing. What else do you have? Even if she's bewitched by you now, there's no guarantee she won't hold a grudge later. That's a lifelong commitment. Besides, if you don't do this, how will you support her? Is she one of those women who are poor and content with their lot?"

Old Zhao had no intention of being sarcastic or watching from the sidelines as the boat capsized. Despite his drunken state, he spoke sincerely. The air in the room was filled with a languishing, decadent atmosphere, like a lingering dream. I never dream, yet I drifted away like a silent feather in this immersive and despairing memory.

Those few days were plagued by insomnia. I looked terribly thin, my eyes sunken, my skin as pale as paper, as if I had been infected with the plague. My usual customers stopped coming to see me. The long, drawn-out figures of Ye Xiaoru and the young man as they left were gone, along with the usual joy of payday. On the table was her half-finished cocktail, while mine remained untouched. The chilled juice in my hand had become warm, and it tasted strange.

"Would you like some wine?"

Zhang Yan said, standing beside me. I replied, "I have some."

She put her hand on my shoulder and gestured to the waiter. I grabbed the cocktail from the table and gulped down a large mouthful, immediately choking violently. Zhang Yan patted my back, took the glass, and took a sip herself. I finished the rest of my drink, my head immediately feeling heavy, but my body felt light and limp.

"Could you do me a favor and find a place around here?"

The wine was placed back on the table, and she asked, somewhat surprised, "What do you mean?"

"I'm fed up with Old Zhao's pungent smell of alcohol,"

I said. She finally calmed down. "Is it that simple? Then I'll keep an eye out for you."

"What, afraid I'll quit like A-Jie?"

I drank heavily, my words becoming increasingly audacious.

She turned her head and smiled, saying, "Not necessarily, you still owe me money."

I pretended to be annoyed and leaned back heavily. She continued, "Have you thought about getting married?"

"You're not married yet, how can I think about it?"

I retorted sarcastically. "What if that anchorwoman insists on marrying you, then you haven't thought about it,"

she said leisurely, "then I'll take her far away."

A-Jie's resignation made me indignant; choosing this line of work was like signing a contract of servitude. She understood my meaning, her face instantly hardening and becoming gloomy.

"Let me tell you, I have no intention of hindering your love. As long as you have the ability to marry her, you can fire me anytime,"

she said with a frosty and serious expression. The wine seemed to have lost its flavor; after a heated argument, it ended on a sour note.

That evening, I received a call from Li Jun. My heart skipped a beat, a surge of anticipation coursed through me, and my face flushed. I was chatting with a middle-aged woman for a full hour, and her voluptuous body was getting closer and closer to me. "So unprofessional, answering the phone at work,"

she complained, her voice filled with a dull, deep desire, as if she wanted to be in bed right away.

I left her. On the phone, Li Jun said he was free that evening and asked if I wanted him to pick her up from work. Although he phrased it as a question, I could still hear the certainty in his voice.

I went back to my seat and grabbed my coat. She looked surprised. I said, "Sorry, I had something urgent to attend to."

Without waiting for her reaction, I hurried out. I could hear her yelling behind me, "What is this? You little bastard, are you trying to fool me?"

If I had explained to her carefully that I had waited a long, boring time for this call, perhaps she wouldn't be so indignant.

I hailed a taxi and headed straight to the TV station. In the car, I planned my evening's program. I couldn't go to public places; she was a famous figure, and I had to consider her image. Before I could even come up with a better plan, the car arrived. From afar, I could see her wearing a high-necked red sweater, looking around nervously, clutching her discarded coat and a thick plaid wool skirt. "Driver, could you please pull over and pick someone up?"

I told the taxi driver. He turned around, looking at me with some surprise; clearly, he recognized the beautiful news anchor.

"Where are we going?"

I asked as soon as she got in, inwardly encouraging her, "Tell me quickly, I don't know what program to schedule."

"Let's have dinner first. There's a quiet restaurant up ahead, and then we can talk,"

she suggested calmly, clearly having planned ahead. The taxi drove into the bustling city center. The crowds and vehicles surged and churned like an exploding galaxy, making me dizzy, but this busyness and chaos was precisely the unique charm of this southern city.

She led me into the fast food restaurant. It was quiet and elegant, not crowded. The owner recognized her and seated us by the window, where we could see pedestrians hurrying by, their faces etched with a sense of urgency. She put her coat behind her back, and a sweet, slightly bitter scent, like roses, emanated from her hair and every inch of her skin. I took a deep breath, feeling like a happy fish swimming in that sweet aroma. She smiled at me: "What would you like to eat?"

"You order."

Her elegant smile made my soul float away.

"I like this place. Let's each eat our own thing, no need to be so polite,"

she said, beckoning a waiter. She ordered pork ribs with rice, beef in tomato sauce, and a bowl of egg drop soup for me. She herself only had rice, stir-fried vegetables with garlic, and scrambled eggs with shrimp. As she picked at her rice, she said, "I can't eat too much."

I glanced at her; she wasn't plump at all, rather thin.

I ate quickly, pushed my bowl aside, and asked, "Where should we go?"

She shook her head blankly before saying, "How about we watch a movie?"

She let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, I think that's the perfect place,"

I agreed. Leaving the fast-food restaurant, it was completely dark. Neon lights flickered like scattered gold. There was a movie theater nearby, its posters advertising two recently awarded films. I bought tickets, grabbed a bag of snacks, and went inside.

Walking through what seemed like a blackout corridor, I found our box. "You're so thoughtful,"

she said casually, munching on her snacks while intently watching the screen, whether from the snacks or the seating, I couldn't tell. The screen reflected the flickering light, making her face appear fair and delicate. I tried to put my arm around her shoulder; she tilted her head and rested it on mine. I kissed her hair; I loved the scent of it. Her quiet demeanor encouraged me, and my lips trembled with excitement as I kissed her smooth cheek. She turned her face away, pursing her lips into a circle. I pressed my moist lips down hard, and she sucked on them eagerly and passionately.

I kissed her poetically dyed chestnut hair, caressed her soft, boneless shoulders, and the actions that had appeared countless times in my dreams were becoming reality. As the dream came true, I was afraid I would fall from the excitement. We kissed passionately, oblivious to everything else. The private room was a haven for lovers, and we held each other tightly, kneading and kissing, breathing heavily.

My hand slipped under her sweater, lifted her bra, and my fingers shamelessly caressed her breasts, finally trapping her firm breasts in my palm like I was catching a pigeon. She was burning up. I always had a knack for accurately sensing certain subtle changes in a woman's body. I said, "Let's go, to the hotel."

"No, can I go with you there?"

she said coquettishly.

I lifted her plaid skirt and immediately covered the top of her thigh with my hand, finding it already moist. I rubbed it wantonly, and she spread her legs, shifting her body to sit on my lap, rubbing her high, round buttocks up and down. My penis gradually swelled, feeling extremely uncomfortable under her pressure. I secretly unzipped my pants, and she glanced down, her face flushed, making her even more alluring. She became a little nervous, smoothing her hair, and as she lowered her hand, she took the opportunity to press it against my penis.

It throbbed excitedly in her soft palm, and she didn't pull her hand away, letting it linger in her grasp.

Suddenly, she curled up, burrowing into my arms. I could feel her whole body trembling, her breathing becoming heavy, her face flushed. I felt a surge of heat coursing through my body, an unbearable sensation washing over me. I ripped her stockings open, her underwear pushed aside, and my manhood throbbed angrily, like a thirsty eel seeking warm, moist water.

Suddenly, she rolled off my lap, letting out a low, urgent moan: "No."

I stopped abruptly, startled, and studied her eyes closely. She looked back at me quietly. "No, I'm not ready,"

she said apologetically. I stroked her cheek and said, "I know, I won't force you."

"Don't worry about it, I like you,"

she said, followed by another passionate kiss.

A few days passed idly. One morning, while I was still lazing in bed, I received a call from Zhang Yan. She said she'd found a nice apartment, suitable for a single person, and wanted me to check it out with her. We agreed on a meeting place, which happened to be somewhere between her place and this area.

I got up to wash up. Old Zhao's snoring, so full of his old-fashioned air, rose and fell. He was always like a night owl, sometimes sneaking off to the building across the street to play cards, brag, drink, smoke, and flirt with the women who lived there. This was his only way to ward off his anxieties. Or he would drink alone in the corridor outside his door, his eyes wide open, his pupils like arrows dipped in poison.

The sunlight was winter sunlight, and fine white dust danced in the air above the street. When I arrived at the agreed-upon place, Zhang Yan hadn't shown up yet. I stood on the side of the road facing the hurried pedestrians, my hands in my pockets, looking rather furtive and not like a respectable person, attracting many curious glances from passersby. I saw her figure in the distance. She was a tall woman, her height not inferior to that of men.

"Have you been waiting long?"

she said as she approached me. "Not long,"

I replied simply. She took my arm, walking like a little bird clinging to me. Turning into a nearby alley, the air seemed to carry an unfamiliar scent. The trees lining the street were bare, and some elderly people sat on the steps like rotten logs. Housewives carrying meat and vegetables passed by us. Zhang Yan took out a piece of paper to check and asked the owner of a grocery store. He pointed, and we confirmed the location of the house.

Upon entering, the house felt cramped, dilapidated, and gloomy, as if even the sky above had lowered considerably. Climbing the stairs, we pushed open the half-closed door. The room was filled with dust and clutter. She tripped and exclaimed, "Ouch!" A metal box lay askew on the floor, its opening wide open. She bent down and picked up a pair of pink women's underwear, covered in sweat, cigarette burns, and the smell of cheap perfume. "Looks like it needs a good cleaning,"

she said, straightening up. I looked around and said, "I think it's alright; at least it's quiet here."

Zhang Yan seemed quite interested in the accommodation as well. She walked around, muttering plans as if she herself wanted to move in. I didn't offer any opinion; let her do as she pleased. As long as I could leave Lao Zhao and that seemingly bustling dormitory, and have a space to live in, it at least meant I had a foothold in this city, like a tree that had grown strong, taken root in the soil, waiting for spring to arrive, to blossom and bear fruit.

Chapter 13 of Public Relations Career

: Zhang Yan was a genius in business. She provided the female guests at the Swan Club with a welcoming and all-encompassing experience, while also not forgetting to rip them off. To us, she was an incomprehensibly clever woman; to other men, she was a stunningly beautiful woman. But to me, she was like a possessed shadow, constantly appearing in my mind, lingering and inescapable.

As soon as I arrived at work, someone informed me that Zhang Yan was waiting for me in her office. The office area was right in front of the hotel, a truly high-rise building. I knew what she wanted to know; she seemed to be carrying a heavy responsibility.

The elevator was bustling with people, a vibrant mix under the lights. I could tell some were rushing from the office building to the gym or beauty center, some had appointments with people at restaurants, and others had already booked rooms, looking relaxed and content. This place, known as a woman's dream paradise, absorbed me like a drop of water, sucking me into its most secret and hidden lower abdomen. Only later did I suddenly realize that this place's most radiant yet mysterious charm was a blend of extravagance and filth.

I knocked and went in. She was behind her desk, putting down the files she was holding, with a mirror tucked between them. I teased, "If you want to look in the mirror, just look. Why bother with these documents and pretending?"

She ignored me. Actually, her face was as smooth as a peeled egg, without any wrinkles around her eyes. I sat down in the swivel chair opposite her.

“You slept with Chen Lixia,”

she said, the vulgarity sounding like it came from a common street shrew. I replied curtly, “No real progress.”

“Stop pretending.”

She suddenly stared intently into my eyes, her voice dripping with barely suppressed sarcasm. “You were in the same room all night and nothing happened?”

“Believe it or not,”

I said loudly, my displeasure evident on my face.

“So, all you did all night was talk and whisper sweet nothings?”

Her eyes rolled back, her gaze rising in suspicion. “Do you want me to give you all the details?”

I stood up. “She was drunk that day, and I didn’t want to take advantage of her.”

She gestured to sit down and got me some water. “Anyway, you’ve already stirred her heart; at least, she comes here often now.”

She said behind me, and I turned around, a startled look on my face. “You didn’t know?”

she asked, equally puzzled.

“She didn’t say anything. We exchanged phone numbers, but we rarely talk,”

I said. She returned to her seat and said, “She’s practicing yoga. She’s come a few times. Go see her.”

“I just don’t understand, is a middle-aged woman and a run-down elementary school principal worth all this?”

“I have my reasons,”

she shrugged. I got up to say goodbye and continued, “Let me tell you, she doesn’t seem like the type to squander money. Besides, she doesn’t have much money to waste.”

She waved her hand and said, “You’d better hurry. As for what her purpose is, I can’t say.”

I nodded and was about to leave when she called me back. I had to turn around. She calmly asked me to sit on the sofa, her beautiful eyes looking at me. “You’ve been getting quite close to Dongzi lately, haven’t you?”

I was completely bewildered. “Nothing much. I just want to know what he’s doing,”

she said, standing there with her usual superior composure.

“Yes, Dongzi and I are very close, and sometimes we go out together, but we haven’t violated any company rules,”

I said. She smiled faintly, as if she understood something. “I’m not referring to that. I’m just reminding you not to get involved.”

“What’s wrong with that? They’re not going to overthrow power or stage a coup, are they?”

I said dismissively. She shook her head. “You’re really naive. Don’t forget, Zheng Ming’s husband is in charge of urban construction, and Mei’s husband is a contractor.”

“Could it be that Dongzi has also gotten involved in contracting?”

I said with a laugh. She said seriously, “You’re right.”

I slapped the back of my head. It was true. From the clues I’d heard from Dongzi, I seemed to have overheard them discussing project costs, funding, and many other issues. I stared meaningfully at Zhang Yan’s high, mountain-like breasts, watching them sway dramatically with her movements. How did she know so easily, while I, who was involved, was still completely oblivious? “You know, there are things you don’t know,”

I said. She seemed pleased with the compliment. “What do I do? I’m the vice president here.” “

But even if they’ve contracted out all the city’s infrastructure, it wouldn’t be your business, would it?”

I said, taking a sip of water. “But it’s related to the boss,”

she said firmly. Then she placed her hand on my shoulder and said earnestly, “Stay away from them. The boss will handle everything else.”

I agreed, bewildered, racking my brains trying to understand why this matter was so important.

“If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving,”

I said. She nodded, and I left.

The rooftop fitness center seemed to be built in the clouds, isolated from the dust of everyday life. The entire lobby had a refreshing freshness, as if the air had been disinfected, perhaps due to the bright sunlight and the pleasant natural environment. Several women were scattered on the floor like chess pieces, some lying down, some sitting, clumsily but diligently performing exercises. As usual, they would steal glances at the men who appeared, and some would speak loudly to attract their attention.

Chen Lixia, legs spread wide, wearing a revealing striped workout outfit, her nearly naked body curled up like a snake on the floor, her white back exposed to everyone's gaze. She saw me, smiled as a greeting, her eyes clear and captivating. The Russian instructor, however, came over and blocked my way, saying in broken Chinese, "This is the women's section, please have some self-respect."

I glared at her, laughing at her for thinking I was in a convent, and then stood awkwardly outside the door.

After waiting a long time, she finally came out during her break, drenched in sweat, and asked how I knew she was there.

I said, "You're really not being fair, not even letting me know you were coming."

"I was afraid of troubling you,"

she said. Seeing my silence, she smiled again and said, "I was afraid you'd bother me."

She's becoming increasingly unrestrained in my presence, speaking without any inhibitions. Her words are refreshingly pleasant, and my mood warms up as well.

I said, "Then you'll have to be punished with a meal."

"Sure, let's eat together later,"

she readily agreed. At this moment, the thin coach herded them up one by one like ducks, his small body seemingly possessing boundless energy.

"Just no alcohol."

She turned and smiled at me. I stared blankly at her long, shapely legs, her graceful figure and slow, almost dance-like gait making me increasingly anxious and restless. It was because of her unyielding demeanor. I didn't know when I could win her heart, how I could touch that heart hidden within her rock, a heart that held a fiery passion and a deep, unspoken affection—that was the truth she concealed.

Finally, she finished class. She was only wearing a sweater and trousers over her tight gym clothes, her hair still damp with sweat. As she tidied her bag, she asked me, "Don't you feel uncomfortable looking like this?"

"Well, there's nothing I can do about it. Let's eat something to solve the problem,"

I said. She smiled suggestively. "Listen, like a conman eager to get a girl into bed."

"If that's what you think, why don't you take a bath?"

she said, her tone becoming increasingly explicit. I didn't mince words either. “Besides, my massage skills are pretty good.”

“Good suggestion, but I don’t want to linger here. Let me take you somewhere.”

She finished speaking and, without waiting for my reaction, headed straight for the elevator. Since there were no cars, we hailed a taxi at the hotel entrance. She seemed quite knowledgeable, negotiating the price with the driver beforehand. The taxi drove us around the highway in a dizzying fashion, and soon we were in the suburbs. As soon as we got out of the car, the air felt much fresher, with the dryness of autumn. Green hills and clear waters stretched as far as the eye could see, and flowers bloomed everywhere. In the distance, red-roofed villas with white walls hid among the lush greenery, charmingly veiled; nearby restaurants and entertainment venues were no more than three stories high, exuding a restrained grandeur, while the luxury cars in the parking lot revealed this grandeur.

A seafood street, constructed with thick bamboo and sunshades, stretched for a full five hundred meters. On one side, seafood caught from the sea was readily visible; on the other, restaurants prepared it. Greedy diners came and went, haggling and asking questions as they strolled along the seafood stalls. We weren't in a hurry to buy; we found a sense of relaxation in these seemingly mundane transactions—a fashionable pastime for city dwellers.

After walking for a while, Chen Lixia felt a bit hot. She took off her light yellow sweater, draped it over her shoulders, tied the sleeves in a knot under her chin, and let the rest of the sweater drape over her breasts. She put her hands in her jeans pockets and walked with a cat-like gait. We walked along, asking prices as we went. The abundance of seafood in the sea was an eye-opener—strange-looking sea creatures and fish I'd never heard of before. She didn't haggle or check the scales; she paid promptly. Soon, our fingers were covered in plastic bags, the freshwater seafood inside wriggling and splashing. She picked up her things and randomly chose a restaurant, specifying that the shrimp should be salt and pepper, the crab steamed, the scallops with vermicelli but no garlic, the clams stir-fried spicy, and the grouper cooked however she liked best. She also ordered a side of vegetables and half a dozen beer, slightly chilled.

I opened the beer, enthusiastically filled my glass, and watched the foam rise before downing it in one gulp. I asked her, "Aren't you going home for dinner? Shouldn't you call?"

Her glass froze in mid-air, the furrowed brow still furrowed. "No need,"

she replied curtly, finishing her beer as well. I didn't press her for an answer; I was both afraid to know about her family situation and yet curious to know more.

"How do you know this place so well?"

I asked, trying to make conversation. She thought for a moment, "I didn't come with my husband. He doesn't have the leisure or the inclination. I came with colleagues before."

"That's impressive, quite an eye-opener,"

I said.

“My feelings right now are like when I was dating. I always wanted to know what my man was doing with other women, and when he told me, I felt incredibly unhappy.”

She poured herself a full beer and stared at the distant sea. From our seats, we could see the open sea, hear the crashing waves, and see the vast ocean stretching to the horizon, with fishing boats floating on the water. A white sand beach stretched out and disappeared behind the green mountains.

“Why send the child abroad? You wouldn’t be so lonely if you stayed home,”

I said considerately. She said slowly, “Just following the trend.”

“Do you know how much of an age difference we have?”

she suddenly asked, seemingly out of the blue. I had no answer and could only remain silent, holding my glass. “You’re six years younger than Zhang Yan, and Zhang Yan is six years younger than me,”

she continued. “I don’t know what your intentions are, but it’s impossible for us to have that kind of relationship. It makes me uneasy.”

“How do you know it’s not right if you haven’t tried?”

I said bluntly. "It definitely won't end well,"

she said decisively. I asked, "What's a good outcome? What's a bad outcome?"

She repeated, "In short, there won't be a good outcome."

I replied, "Whether it's a good outcome or a bad outcome, we'll go through it all."

She drank more and more heavily. "Then you should prepare for the worst."

I also drank glass after glass.

"I don't care what you think. Anyway, I'm going to let you start over after this period of getting to know each other. Don't laugh at my youthful madness and ignorance."

She smiled and said, "Okay, but you'll have to bear the consequences yourself. If you feel hurt, we'll each bear it ourselves, without any complaints."

Her obedient face and fiercely willful words made me want to hug her and comfort the anxiety that always seemed to emanate from her heart.

When she put her drunken head on my shoulder, I could only carry her with one hand and pay the bill with the other, like a gibbon. When we got to the street, she smiled at me mischievously, "Sorry, it's your turn to treat me now."

"We agreed not to drink, but you got yourself drunk again,"

I said, looking around for a taxi. “I’m drunk, which is a good thing for you, you get a chance to save some.”

She held up her index finger and waved it seductively in front of my eyes. “Right now, all I want is to get you into bed,”

I said frankly.

Her entire body leaned against me, and she walked slowly along the beach, making flirtatious noises as she walked with difficulty. In the distance, a few children were running around on the sand like little balloons.

A couple was kissing on a large expanse of dark blue rocks. The murky yellowish-green seawater turned into a murky gray, and the sea breeze carried a cold, salty smell. The seawall was the road, and seeing that we could only wait, I took her to a clean slope to sit on. As night fell and it grew colder, I spread her body out and put her sweater on her. When I tugged at her ample breasts, she giggled as if tickled, and her body twisted dramatically.

Through our clothes, I could feel her warm breath emanating from her. "Hey, don't fall asleep, you'll catch a cold,"

I said, gently touching her face. Her eyes suddenly opened, staring at me for a long time, their gazes full of meaning yet somewhat empty. My lips drew closer, landing on hers. She responded passionately, her delicate tongue, like a cold little snake, trembling as it slithered into my mouth, which I sucked on tightly. Our heads swayed up and down, left and right, our bodies intertwined and struggling, indulging our surging desires on this dark seawall.

Two bright headlights pierced the darkness in the distance; a car was approaching, its red taxi sign flashing incessantly. "A car's coming!"

I cried, releasing her hold, wishing I could throw myself across the road and block the car. Finally, they managed to drag her, limp as a rag doll, into a taxi. The driver rambled on, "Luckily I came along. At this hour, there are

n't any empty taxis turning back." He kept turning around to look at her peaceful face.

Everything was pitch black, a darkness that was better than daylight—not glaring, but reassuring.

I couldn't see her face clearly in the darkness, but I could feel the burning heat of her face pressed against my cheek. In my arms was a soft, delicate body; she belonged to me so dependently, so openly—a scene that felt strangely familiar. I was caught in fragments of emotions that had quietly crept in, light yet chaotic. The car quickly entered the city, the flashing lights on both sides of the street dazzlingly bright. In the darkness, our souls seemed to have drifted away, leaving only two absent-minded shells. I told her her address, and the car turned, quickly arriving at that upscale neighborhood. With difficulty, I helped her out of the car. She staggered, her still swaying body jerking away from me, waving goodbye, and then staggering away.

Back at the Swan Club, the vibrant nightlife was just beginning. Tall, beautiful, and colorful women laughed loudly, swaying around with their glasses in hand. They enthusiastically greeted men, familiar or unfamiliar, and after a few words, they would huddle together in a corner. Soon, I caught the eye of a voluptuous older woman. She beckoned me over with her little finger, and as I sat down beside her, her short, plump hand eagerly groped my thigh. "So young, such taut muscles."

Just then, my phone rang. The sound was soft, but the vibration was strong. I apologized to her and went to a quiet corner. It was Chen Lixia calling. "Are you even a man?"

she said abruptly, her voice surprisingly clear, without the hoarseness of drunkenness. "Are you alright?"

I asked. She yelled at me angrily, "Why did you bring me home?"

"I saw you were really drunk,"

I mumbled in protest. “They were faking it,”

she said, and hung up the phone immediately.

November 2nd,

Public Relations Career, Chapter 14:

There is no winter in the South. The grass everywhere shows no signs of aging, remaining lush and green; the flowers are as vibrant as spring, blooming in fiery red; the kapok trees are tall and straight, their red branches radiating vitality. My rented apartment is located in the city center, a quiet haven amidst the bustling surroundings. Just stepping out of the apartment gate and turning into the alley, no matter how late, whether turning left or right, one can achieve their ideal of eating, drinking, and having fun within ten minutes.

This building, steeped in history, was once glorious and bustling, but with the passage of time, it has lost its former prestige. Nearby low-rise buildings have been almost entirely demolished, but it still stands tall, like a guardian of the wheat field, waiting for the arrival of a ripe season. Tall, beautiful but useless chimneys, stained-glass windows, and two balconies enclosed by carved railings and covered in vines.

The newly rented apartment was being renovated under Zhang Yan's relentless supervision, while I, like an outsider, detachedly observed her whimsical designs.

She called me early that day, saying the apartment was almost finished and I hadn't come to inspect it. A surge of excitement pulled me from my dream. I quickly got up and washed. Old Zhao was still asleep; he'd been gambling again last night, only returning to the dorm just before dawn, his loud cough waking me, followed by a series of sighs. I shook my head at his bed; this period would soon be over.

Thankfully, the apartment hadn't been completely messed up by her strange ideas. The walls were covered in elegant wallpaper, the floors were smooth wooden, and the whole apartment felt very comfortable, perfect for a single man like me.

The place was empty; all the old furniture and belongings had been cleared away, leaving only the tools the workers hadn't taken, a few empty paint buckets, and a long bench used for woodworking. A series of high heels clicked on the concrete, sounding dull yet crisp in the quiet hallway, as if deliberately emphasizing their footsteps to attract attention.

"How is it? Is it alright?"

Zhang Yan asked, leaning against the doorframe. I nodded and said, "Thank you."

The high heels clicked again on the wooden floor as she gracefully gestured, planning the arrangement of the furniture.

Clearly proud of her work, her face flushed with excitement. I crossed my arms, but was calculating the cost of the project. Seeing that I wasn't affected by her mood, she asked, somewhat puzzled, "Aren't you happy?" "

No,"

I replied, casually tossing aside the tattered rag on the floor.

She sat down on the woodworking bench, supporting her leaning body with one arm, her posture contorted in a graceful, swaying motion. Then, with deadpan accuracy, she uttered what I was thinking: "I know what you're thinking, it's just about money, isn't it? I'll pay for it, but put it on your tab, consider it a debt."

This bewitching woman always seemed to grasp my secrets perfectly. "Now Gao Chen is worry-free,

isn't he?" she said with a smile, her face still radiant.

Her intense gaze met mine, filled not only with tender, honeyed warmth, but also with a flickering, wicked flame, a flame like a whip lashing at my heart.

She stepped forward and threw herself into my arms, displaying exceptionally high spirits. Then came the kiss; her cold lips gradually warmed after a passionate kiss, her body pressed tightly against mine, her hips swaying impatiently.

Her hands groped along my legs, skillfully pulling off my trousers. Suddenly, she pushed me down onto the bench. My hands, through her thin sweater, caressed her chest. Her breathing quickened, and her legs spread wide restlessly. I removed her stockings and underwear. As I found the zipper on her skirt, she whispered, "Like this, it's cold." I lifted her buttocks

, one hand guiding my already erect member, and thrust it in fully. Her buttocks sank, her back straightening, and we were instantly locked in a tight, intimate embrace.

She leaped and thrashed about joyfully on top of me, my hands supporting her waist, aiding her every rise and fall. My member, like a towering pagoda pointing to the sky, stood proudly, defying wind and rain, which fueled her burning desire. Each thrust brought with it warm, moist love juice, showering my member with intense pleasure. Her face, as beautiful as a peach blossom, was instantly covered in fine beads of sweat, her hair disheveled, showing her exhaustion. The rhythm of her movements slowed and sluggish, but my member remained throbbing, unwilling to surrender. The

faint winter sunlight streamed into the room, fine dust motes swirling around. Her face rested on my shoulder, perhaps brewing passion and accumulating desire. I had her lift her buttocks, pulled out my member, releasing a thick stream of fluid, then turned her over and laid her delicate body flat on the bench. As my body slowly pressed down on her, she willingly spread her legs. My member swayed like a drunken monk, thrusting deep inside. Her head jerked, her waist lowered further, raising her white buttocks higher. I panted heavily, giving it my all, wielding my member in various ways—sometimes rapid thrusts, sometimes slow, rhythmic pumping. The long bench creaked rhythmically, and she moaned rhythmically, like humming an ancient, wild song.

I don't know how much time passed, and my strength began to wane. My body gradually felt tired, but she seemed unsatisfied. Instead, she draped her thighs over my shoulders, her large buttocks raised to welcome me, her joyful moans unrestrained and oblivious to everyone around her. I continued my labors silently, my movements heavy and labored. Her whole being was filled with pleasure and ecstasy. I could feel her insides convulsing rapidly, gripping my penis as if the in-and-out flow wasn't smooth enough, and a stream of hot, cloudy semen gushed out. I knew this woman was about to lose all her senses, so I remained still inside her, not daring to move, but occasionally wiggling my buttocks a few times. She shook my arms, urging me, "Hurry, I'm coming, don't stop."

I thrust a few times quickly, my body reaching its limit. My member swelled and released its passion inside her. Her beautiful eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, and she swayed her head, enjoying the passion. My lower body pressed tightly against hers, my body like a heavy sandbag on her. She was still wearing my member inside her, and she pounded on me with her hands, saying in a soft voice, "You'll crush me."

I struggled to get up, and my member slipped off immediately. Without bothering to wipe it off, she sat on my lower abdomen, her body limp as she leaned back in my arms. I wrapped my arms around her waist, and we both rested, panting.

"Sister Yan, are you enjoying it?"

My lips lingered on her earlobe and the tips of her hair.

“You’re much better than I imagined. That woman wouldn’t want to leave you,”

she said confidently. “Really,”

I said. She got up from me, took out her purse, and pulled out tissues, saying, “You’ve made me like this, let alone other women.”

Then she paused, perhaps realizing she’d let something slip, and a hint of awkward embarrassment crossed her face.

“So you’ve seen it all,”

I said, realizing how harsh the words were.

An awkward silence followed. The street seemed to come alive below, the air filled with the aroma of scallion oil and smoked meat as neighbors busied themselves preparing lunch. She finished straightening her clothes and applied lipstick in front of the newly installed window. I put my arm around her from behind and whispered in her ear, “Don’t mind it, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Actually, we’re just the same kind of people,”

she said softly. She then pulled away from my embrace. With her makeup done, she looked even more beautiful, but her eyes regained their usual haughtiness and icy coldness.

Actually, this woman is essentially the same type as me; in a sense, we're in the same alliance. But we're not in love. She doesn't accept my love, and now I have no interest in loving her, no desire, and no need. That's how we became so open with each other, driven only by pure physical desire. "Let's go,"

I said, taking her arm.

We went out together, down one floor, and our friendly old neighbor greeted us. "Are you two moving in?"

"Yes,"

she replied with a smile. The old lady seemed to get excited, stopping as if about to launch into a passionate speech. "You're busy, aren't you? We're in a hurry,"

I quickly interrupted her. She continued, "You've just arrived; if you need anything, just let us know."

"Thanks,"

I waved and pulled her away. "Look at that couple, a truly perfect match—he's rich and talented, she's beautiful and charming. If they have a little one soon, it'll be even more lively!"

The old lady's voice followed closely behind. Then I noticed a blissful satisfaction on her face, and her eyes shone with a light.

I returned to my musty dormitory, finding the room that had once been my home as desolate as a graveyard, covered in fine dust. Even during the day, the lights had to be on. All I had in the room were some personal belongings and clothes, which were easy to move. Old Zhao, as always, clutched his liquor bottle, glancing sideways at me as I packed my things with dead fish eyes. I finished packing without saying a word, carrying them by hand and on my shoulder, and pushed open the door. He suddenly shouted, telling Zhang Yan, "Don't let anyone else live here. I'm bringing my wife over."

I looked at him, then at the room, speechless, yet a rare pang of sorrow welled up inside me. Old Zhao was growing weaker and weaker; he was panting heavily after only a few words. He seemed to want to say something about taking care of himself, but what good would it do? It was meaningless to him. I righted a fallen chair, turned my back, and quietly slipped a few banknotes under a bottle on the table before leaving without looking back.

I slept soundly in my new apartment, like a baby in swaddling clothes. I enjoyed a good afternoon's sleep, knowing that even though I slept peacefully, the world outside was still awake, passionately awake.

Winter afternoons seem particularly short. It was getting dark. I called Li Jun's cell phone, but it didn't go through. I called the TV station, and they said she was currently filming a program. I lied and said I was from her family. They said it was a long-distance call, and they would call her.

She answered quickly, not angry at my prank, and even laughed, saying, "You can lie too. Maybe one day you'll trick me into selling myself." I said I moved to a new place, and she had to come celebrate.

She said she couldn't get away now and didn't know when it would end, so I shouldn't pick her up; she'd come over when it was over. I gave her the address, and I met her outside the alley.

The weather was nice, the sky was blue and seemed quite high. I grabbed a quick bite at a random place, then wandered around, constantly checking my phone, afraid of missing a call. I did receive a call from Zhang Yan, asking why I wasn't at work. I told her I was at home tidying up and was a bit tired. Back at my place, I took a closer look at the outdated building. The surrounding area was quite empty, with a makeshift shed outside where various motorcycles and bicycles were parked. The ground floor had many unevenly spaced shops, and the businesses there seemed rather lackluster. Just as I lay down on the bed to close my eyes, I received a call from Li Jun. She said she had finished her project and asked me to wait for her at the alley entrance. I ran to the alley entrance, and then began what felt like an eternity of waiting. The moon was incomplete in the sky, yet very white and bright. There was a romantic scent in the air—it was a night of passion.

A taxi stopped, and she got out. She was wearing a white sweater, tucked into her trousers, looking elegant and simple. I took her coat and paid the driver. We walked side by side. This place was clearly unfamiliar to her; she kept glancing around. The stairs were dark and steep. I let her walk ahead and put my hand on her waist.

She was wearing thick, tight jeans that accentuated her full, high hips, a sight that aroused many wicked thoughts. A dark, moonless winter night is perfect for romance.

I felt inexplicably excited about what was about to happen, a surge of passion rising in my lower abdomen.

We closed the door tightly. The room was warm and cozy, with loud music blaring from the stereo. The vibrating melodies conveyed an indescribable longing and an animalistic restlessness. She wandered around the house, occasionally offering her observations. She was struck by how the house felt like new wine in a bottle, permeated with the atmosphere of an old-fashioned home yet furnished with modern furniture—a luxurious but outdated style, somewhat incongruous. I gestured for her to sit on the sofa, a genuine leather armchair Zhang Yan had chosen, its unique purplish-red hue resembling the petals of a withered rose, and also strikingly similar to the color of lips and a woman's genitals when aroused. She smiled quietly. The coffee table was piled high with various snacks, chewing gum, coffee, and beer. Although we had already had a physical encounter, our relationship was far from unrestrained. I tried my best to make it seem like a late-night heart-to-heart talk.

We each sat at one end of the sofa. I brewed her a fine cup of coffee, and as she sipped it, she recounted amusing anecdotes from the station. When she was particularly happy, she would burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling with a brimming, almost watery light, a passion seemingly about to erupt. Slowly, I moved closer to her, my hand naturally resting on her shoulder, occasionally brushing aside a few strands of hair. My heart pounded, a premonition of impending happiness making my hands and feet chill, but I didn't show it. She avoided my advances, as if we had never been intimate before. She seemed quite nervous, which perhaps convinced me that she was still a tender, naive woman, inexperienced with many men.

The quartz clock on the wall ticked crisply, and night gradually enveloped the orange-red little house. My heart pounded. In a chance glance, I mustered the courage to pull her into my arms. Her hands wrapped around my neck, and I could feel the strength in her arms and the slight spasm within her body. I easily found her lips, and a pleasurable whirlwind seized me, as if my soul had left my body. She responded passionately, like a gentle avalanche.

I carried her to the bed and successfully removed her jeans. The spacious bed excited her. I stripped myself off with butcher-like speed, and when my tall frame pressed down on her like a tower, she spread her legs wide, easily accepting me without a trace of awkwardness, restraint, or shame.

She writhed ecstatically beneath me, my panting almost incantations, my only thought being to convulse violently, my eyes gleaming with a cruel, bestial light, my breaths whistling like the last gasps of a storm.

After a frenzied assault, I stopped, but the thing pressed tightly against her inside me hadn't softened. She grabbed a towel from the pillow and wiped the sweat from my brow. Then she said, "Let me get up."

With the agility of a cat, she rolled over and straddled me, her hand caressing my penis, grasping it in her palm. She said, "I love this thing, like a plump cactus in the desert, so fleshy."

She then sank down, and once she had taken me in, she removed her upper garments. A naked, snow-white body moved erratically, shifting and swaying before my eyes. Her skin, shoulders, breasts, and toes were all actively undulating.

Her love juices seeped onto my lower abdomen. Her eyes were closed, seemingly oblivious to everything, everything seemed to be endlessly expanding, shining in the darkness, everything responding to the desire within her. After what seemed like an eternity, she suddenly opened her eyes wide, followed by a violent tremor, and then fell like a limp swan from a lake. "Oh. I felt so good,"

she said as she rolled off me, the words seeming not to come from her mouth, but from the depths of her heart. Having experienced the pleasure of body and mind, she regained her composure and elegance, seemingly embarrassed by her earlier frenzy. She turned slightly to the side, arching her back and bending her legs, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest and thighs. "How was it? Did you enjoy it?" I whispered, resting my chin on her rounded shoulder from behind. Perhaps it was the warmth of my breath on her ear, but she recoiled slightly, offering no reply. "How was it?" I asked again. Her slightly languid voice, tinged with satisfaction, murmured, "Not bad, it felt great. I never imagined there could be such wonderful things between men and women." "Really? You've never experienced this?" I exclaimed dramatically, and she playfully punched my back. "I mean, no man has ever given me this kind of pleasure," she said shamelessly and matter-of-factly. Someone as beautiful and voluptuous as her, having been a budding flower for so many years, naturally had no shortage of young, infatuated suitors buzzing around her, always eager to please. Naturally, she couldn't remain chaste. What era are we living in? I would never be jealous of such things. Besides, I'm not exactly a saint either; it seems our interactions both implicitly acknowledged our pasts. She lifted the sheet and went into the bathroom. I lay down groggily, hearing the sound of running water from the bathroom, and perhaps a sneeze or two. This woman, the dream girl of most men in the city, should have been picky about men, but she chose me. This made me a little overwhelmed, both afraid of this sudden happiness and afraid of losing it. But I was determined to enjoy this seemingly distant yet real love, like someone savoring a delicious meal, only caring about removing the bones. She came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, asked me for a shirt, and said she wouldn't leave. We fell asleep in each other's arms. She lay sideways, gently resting her head on my left chest as I lay on my back, her lower body pressed even closer, her legs intertwined. We lay like this for a while, and then I slowly reached my right hand behind her shoulder to stroke her back. She seemed to have forgotten her earlier passion, becoming very quiet, closing her eyes obediently like a puppy, enjoying my gentle caresses from her neck to her back. Since moving to this house, my dates with Li Jun no longer had to be secretive, like thieves. Her frequent visits made the atmosphere in my cozy little home more casual and feminine. She brought a whole bunch of women's cosmetics, from face and hair products to body and hand products, and the balcony was filled with colorful and extremely sexy little trinkets. When she stayed overnight, she always left very early the next day. Sometimes, neighbors would intentionally or unintentionally peek in, and sometimes someone would knock on the door to borrow something, then look around the house with shifty eyes. Gradually, as her visits became more frequent, the neighbors got used to it and became desensitized. Those mornings, when I opened my eyes from my dreams, seeing a ray of sunlight climbing through the curtains onto my spacious bed, I heard her even breathing beside me. When I sat up, I saw her face, still childlike from sleep, with tiny blue veins faintly visible beneath her fair skin, her lips as soft as a baby's, tinged with a sickly red, her brows slightly furrowed, an expression of dissatisfaction or anger. Looking at her face, I was moved by a strange kind of joy. Like a sleepy schoolchild, she always needed the alarm clock to wake her up before hurriedly getting out of bed. In the mornings, she was always disheveled, plainly dressed, and practically fleeing, taking a taxi to work from my place like a refugee. After she left, I could lie back in bed whenever I wanted, sometimes even skipping lunch. That afternoon, just as I was about to leave and lock the door, the elderly neighbor came up with the utility bills. She smiled and said, "Could you please settle this bill?" I greeted her politely, said yes, and took out my wallet. She leaned closer, not in a hurry to take the money, and whispered, "That woman who often comes to see you looks familiar." "That one?" I asked knowingly, looking at her wrinkled face with a kind of expectant look. "Don't worry, I won't tell your wife anything. I'm not the kind of person who likes to gossip." The old lady's wrinkles smoothed out. I couldn't refuse, so I said, "She's from my hometown." "She works at the TV station, right? Don't blame me for my failing eyesight, I recognized her voice immediately." She persisted, and I could only nod vaguely. "She's younger than your wife, isn't she? I think you two make a good match." She continued to pester me, and I waved my hand to warn her, "You can't talk nonsense, she's famous." "I know, I know," she said repeatedly, noticing my displeasure. I handed her the money, turned, and left. She followed behind me, still nagging. "A famous woman can't be a wife. When a woman goes out into the world, she sees too much, and her heart becomes fickle." I pondered the old lady's words all the way home. Her tone was sincere, as if she were advising a naive young man. I disagreed. My yearning for love is undoubtedly related to my childhood experiences; I've hardly experienced parental love, a happy childhood, or a stable environment. The winter afternoon sun shines warmly, and fine white dust dances in the air above the streets. I can faintly smell Li Jun's captivating scent. Before, I disliked this bustling yet dirty city; now, I imagine myself as a happy member of it. Like its residents, I imagine a comfortable and easy job, modest but not abundant wealth, a warm and comfortable home, and a sweet and enchanting love.

I spotted Old Zhao from afar; he was looking around, clearly waiting. As I approached, he stopped me. He was thinner, and his face was pale. He said, "You left early last night; I couldn't wait for you."

"Is there something you need?"

he asked. He said, "I'll buy you a drink."

"You won the bet,"

I said, somewhat incredulously. "No, I need your help with something,"

he stammered. I shook my head and said, "No, let's not talk about the money anymore."

My firm refusal displeased him, but he still patiently said, "Don't look at me like that. Anyway, we'll have dinner together when you go back to your dorm."

"Why go back to the dorm? We can eat on the street,"

I said, his face beaming with happiness. "My wife is here."

"Well, as soon as I moved, you brought your wife over. You've been planning this for a while, haven't you?"

I said with a smile.

"You definitely have to come,"

he said.

"We'll see, if there's nothing else,"

I said as we walked away.

It wasn't a public holiday or a weekend, and the club was deserted. Only Ah Jie was idly playing cards on a table, looking dejected and constantly clutching cards he didn't need.

"Hey, Ah Lun, I'm always having bad luck. I wonder what misfortune is going to happen to me,"

he said as I approached. I went over and looked at him. "You believe in this too?"

"It's very accurate,"

he said, gathering the cards back up on the table.

I found an empty chair next to him, and as he shuffled the cards, he said, "Let me tell your fortune."

"I don't want to,"

I stopped him. He didn't even lay down any cards but said, "You're having a lucky streak, a stroke of good fortune in love. But it seems this luck won't last long."

"Why don't you tell your own fortune instead?"

I said. "Listen to me, people like us don't even deserve to talk about love. It's just a mirage, a self-deception."

He made a comical face, spouting profound words, showcasing his philosophy of life to me. It was as if someone had touched a painful nerve in my heart, and I swayed like a pendulum of despair. Clearly, I wasn't mentally prepared for this unexpected happiness. Although I kept searching for a thousand reasons to prove I was a good man, I couldn't shake off my inferiority complex. My profession was like a shadow, constantly looming over my life, like a hidden ailment, unpredictable when and where it would erupt.

"Ah Jie, haven't any women made you fall in love all these years?"

I asked deliberately. A barely perceptible hint of panic flashed across his face, followed by a forced composure as he said, "So what if I have? They're all unattainable."

The topic grew increasingly somber, and for me, immersed in joy and happiness, it felt like we weren't on the same wavelength, leaving me feeling awkward and out of place. I excused myself and walked away.

Old Zhao had set up a table in the dormitory corridor. He'd started drinking before I even arrived. When he saw me carrying two bottles of liquor, his eyes lit up with excitement. "You came all this way, even bringing liquor. Didn't you always stop me from drinking?"

he said. I put the wine on the table and said, "It's at the general store downstairs. I paid back the wine you owed him."

"What's wrong with that old man? He won't even give you this much privacy."

He was clearly pleased, and he shouted loudly into the house, "Cook the dishes, Alan's here."

"Your wife's here?"

I asked. He blinked and nodded, "Now that you're moving out, I need someone to keep me company, right?"

"Actually, you're just hoping I move out."

I opened the wine, and a strong, mellow aroma quickly filled the air. He sniffed it carefully with his thin nostrils. Then I heard a sweet voice, "Brother, you're here."

Old Zhao's wife was wearing a bright gold and red satin cotton-padded jacket, as beautiful as a parrot, and she placed the freshly cooked dishes on the table.

"Come on in too,"

I said politely. This woman had gained weight again, her breasts bulging like small mountains. "I'll help you out a bit more, you guys eat first."

She turned and went to the stove, her buttocks firm, like a fully inflated balloon. A few light and refreshing cold dishes, a plate of braised pork hock with the bone sticking up like a cannon in the middle—I didn't stand on ceremony and immediately sat down to drink.

"You invited me here not just for drinking, right?"

I asked, downing my drink in one gulp. He only took a small sip and then said, "Alan, you know quite a bit about relationships now. Tell me, what would women be like without the nourishment of us men?"

"They'd cause chaos!"

I blurted out. He slapped his thigh and said, "Exactly! It's like a field; without men cultivating it, the land will become barren, parched, even overgrown with weeds and ravaged by locusts."

While pouring my drink, I asked, puzzled, "You mean, we're the ones who save those women with excess energy?"

“Yes, isn’t that right? It gave their men a chance to breathe, and it brought peace and harmony to their families.”

He took the bottle, filled his glass, and then raised it, saying, “Alan, you’ve helped me a lot these days, always costing you money. I won’t say more; everything is in this glass.”

He downed the glass in one gulp, then turned to look at me, and I took a small sip. “A few years ago, I was just like you, young and successful, rich and handsome.”

He murmured, his voice a mix of sobs and laughter. I filled his glass again, flattering him, “Old Zhao, you’re a smart man. In this situation, you should focus on getting better first. When you rise again, you’ll be a hero.”

“My thing isn’t up to par.”

He glanced around, then brought his mouth close to my ear, his voice not lowering. "What is that?"

I hadn't quite grasped the meaning yet. Old Zhao gave me a disdainful look, engrossed in his work on the pork hock, his hands thick with grease. I refilled his glass, watched him drink it down with his eyes closed, then smacked my lips before speaking: "That thing, a man's lifeline."

"No way, get your body back in shape."

I deliberately shook my head, which made him anxious. With a "clatter," he tossed the gnawed bone onto the plate; the scattered white pockmarks on his red face stood out even more. His voice rose considerably: "That's what the doctor told me. If you don't believe me, I have the medical records."

He was so anxious that he actually tried to get up. I smiled wryly: "I just don't understand it. You don't need to look for it."

Everything Old Zhao said was true. Recently, his health had indeed been declining, and he had even become impotent. Occasionally, he would have some desire, but it would be difficult to achieve an erection, casting a shadow over his marital relationship.

"Does she know?"

I gestured with my chin towards the room, thinking about how he had a beautiful wife, yet also had his own unspeakable troubles. He sighed and said, "I kept it from her for a long time, and it really caused her a lot of trouble. Now I can't hold back anymore."

His face gradually turned dark brown, and his eyes widened. "You don't know, when a woman reaches this age, she's at her most carefree. If she doesn't have a man's comfort, she feels like she's lost her soul, incredibly restless, her temper worsens, and she speaks harshly."

"I can't believe it, let's drink."

I slammed my glass on the table, and we drank another glass together.

"Alan, what do you think of my wife?"

he asked, squinting. I casually replied, "She's pretty good, Lao Zhao, you're lucky to have married such a virtuous woman."

"I mean, is she beautiful?"

he said. I covered my glass and said, "I can't drink anymore. Actually, she's really beautiful. If she spent a little more money on dressing up, she'd be better than all the women in the city."

"Alan, help me,"

he said, my face flushed with the effects of the alcohol. "Tell me, if I can do it, I'll definitely help you."

"Help me fulfill my responsibilities as a man,"

he said firmly. For a moment, I was confused and misunderstood his meaning. "Lao Zhao, what are you thinking? Why be so pessimistic? Your illness isn't fatal, is it?"

He laughed loudly, "Are you cursing me to die? I mean, help me comfort my wife."

A loud noise went through my ears, like a needle prick, and my whole body went numb. "Old Zhao, you bastard!"

I bit my lip, my voice slow, low, and harsh, each word like a thrown stone.

"Don't be so serious. Isn't this what you do? It's just that I'm broke right now. If I had money, wouldn't you be doing it too?"

Old Zhao was also getting impatient; his face turned purplish-red, like Guan Yu in a temple. I angrily grabbed the remaining bottle of wine, tilted my head back, and gulped down half of it. Pointing my finger at his nose, I said fiercely, "We're friends. How could I do something so unfair to a friend?"

"It's precisely because I see you as a friend that I asked you for this favor,"

Old Zhao shouted back. Old Zhao's wife, hiding inside the house, had obviously heard our argument and was sobbing intermittently. "Stop talking, I can't."

I waved my hand, trying to get up and leave, but my legs felt weak and limp, as if the bones had been removed. I struggled to hold onto the table, and Old Zhao came over to help me up. Only then was I able to stand. As soon as he let go, I rolled to the ground like a log. He squatted down to help me up again, but he too was paralyzed with utter despair. I had thought he hadn't drunk much, but it turned out he was even more drunk than me.

Old Zhao's wife came out of the house and saw the two grown men, drunk as dogs, unable to stand or speak. She was at a loss, not knowing what to do. My eyes were like they were covered by a red glass, and I could only see her vague figure, but I was still conscious. She lifted me up from the ground, and my heavy body fell into her arms. In this clean, smooth, and gentle mass of flesh, there seemed to be something reassuring and trustworthy.

She helped me onto the bed, found some pillows and blankets to prop me up, and all I could see was her voluptuous body swaying in front of me. Then, she helped Old Zhao up and put him on the opposite bed, where I used to be. Old Zhao could still stammer as he spoke, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. My heart was churning like a stormy sea; the more I tried to calm myself, the less I could. Then, my mind became increasingly muddled, and I drifted off to sleep. (

Public Relations Career, Chapter 16)

The door closed, plunging the room into darkness, with only two dim, yellowish lights shining through the glass window above the door onto the dusty floor. Through the dim light, I could see a row of wardrobes stacked high and low along one wall, with some worn-out washbasins and buckets in the center, and old photographs of beautiful women on either side, shimmering with vibrant colors. Each smiling face seemed to float in mid-air, far removed from the paper, in the dim light. I felt like one of those people up there, floating aimlessly.

My consciousness was adrift in fragmented scenes and details, like a hallucination yet real. I distinctly felt my pants being ripped off, my manhood grasped by a pair of soft hands, those hands excitedly caressing and manipulating it, then rubbing it against a smooth cheek. Then, a warm embrace enveloped me as she swallowed it. I wanted to escape, to stop, to resist, but all my thoughts were futile. I couldn't even utter a sound. Next, a body straddled me. Before me was a fiery red cotton-padded jacket, and below, two snow-white, smooth, spread thighs. I could feel the weight of that body and her excited, heavy breathing—a feeling hazy and intangible, impossible to grasp. That body moved wildly on top of me, and I felt as if I had lost my will, left only with an uncontrollable shell.

The absurd, dreamlike scene continued as I struggled helplessly. The woman riding on top of me shifted into various positions, sometimes thrusting her hips with a straight back, sometimes crouching down and pressing herself down. Her hands gripped my shoulders, slamming her body down heavily, like riding a smooth, saddleless horse, trembling with pleasure. My mind was a blur, unable to concentrate. I desperately tried to grasp something, but there was nothing there; my senses were fragmented, shattered into pieces.

After a long while, the protracted struggle finally stopped. Her body fell heavily to the ground, and I felt released from a helpless constraint, like a fish leaping out of a net and lying on the beach. Then, exhaustion washed over me like the rising and falling tide, engulfing me in deeper chaos.

I struggled to open my eyes and found myself lying naked on the bed. It was dark, and the room gradually darkened, but the lights remained off. I was shocked, but my head was throbbing, and all my joints felt like they were falling apart. Everything that had just happened seemed like a dream. Instinctively, I bit my tongue; a sharp pain sent a shiver down my spine, and a sweet, metallic taste filled my mouth. Old Zhao's wife was sleeping beside me, her pink tongue flicking in and out. Her face was pressed against my chest, emitting soft snores. For a moment, it felt like a complete stranger was lying there.

I sat up abruptly and saw the clothes lying on the bedside. I pieced together fragmented details in my mind and immediately realized that, after getting drunk, Jing had fallen into the trap set by Old Zhao and his wife. I was furious, filled with shock and indignation. I patted Old Zhao's wife, who was still fast asleep. She woke up immediately, a flicker of panic in her eyes. Her hands instinctively covered her lower abdomen, and she hurriedly got out of bed to find her clothes. Her buttocks were plump, squeezed together into two swollen hemispheres, slightly upturned, like breasts, their full shape revealing a hungry desire.

After putting on her pants, she sat sideways on the edge of the bed, stroking my hair with her hand. "Brother, please forgive your sister-in-law this time,"

she said, her eyes reddening. "Old Zhao is no good,"

I cursed fiercely. She said, "He's good to me, you know. Now he's impotent, and I'm still young. I've tried everything—using my hands, my mouth, everything—trying desperately to please and satisfy me. But the more he does that, the more he arouses me. So many nights I've gritted my teeth and cried in secret, and he cries too. You have no idea how much I've suffered."

As she spoke, tears streamed down her face. She didn't try to wipe them away, letting the full tears slide down her cheeks. I found some tissues on the bedside table and handed them to her. Then I realized my lower body was naked, so I got out of bed, found my pants, and was about to put them on when she, like a cat, nimbly wrapped her arms around me from behind, pressing her face tightly against my back.

"Don't do this, sister-in-law, forget about it,"

I said, her arms tightening around me, and I could hear her heavy breathing. "Just let me have one more time,"

she said, freeing one hand to slide down and grasp my manhood.

Seeing my dazed look, she assumed I had given in, and suddenly turned and squatted down in front of me, her hands gripping my thighs, pressing her face between my legs, and opening her mouth to take my manhood in tightly.

I stood motionless, like a clay statue, not even blinking. I felt not only being teased, but also being defiled, a silent, exhilarating rush of blood coursing through me.

I tried to move her face away, but her lips held it tightly, as if a bird would fly away if she let go. A pleasurable sensation quickly flooded my mind, especially the thing in her mouth. The pleasure was like being burned by needles, the silver needles accurately striking a certain acupoint, sending a tingling numbness through my body followed by a feeling of lightness, as if all my joints and meridians were being renewed.

The thing was also growing and swelling wildly in her warm, moist mouth. A hint of helplessness flickered in my eyes. Then, a hand slipped inside the collar of her cotton-padded coat. The cold touch made her shiver. I touched her bra, stroking her cleavage like a tickle, making her flustered and drooling.

She lost her balance, almost falling to the ground. I caught her, laid her on the bed, and pulled down her pants. Her thick pubic hair glistened. She naturally bent her knees and spread her legs, revealing a moist mound in the center. She closed her eyes slightly, two blushes slowly rising and spreading across her face, her entire face flushed crimson. I leaned down, aimed at that spot, and thrust in, gently parting the labia. She let out a soft "Oh!" as a wave of intense pleasure washed over her.

On her body, my movements were as nimble as a monkey and as swift as a leopard, leaping and shifting with effortless grace. My eyes remained fixed on her face, her expressions ever-changing. In moments of pleasure, her eyes were slightly open, her mouth wide, her tongue darting in and out with delight. I immediately quickened the pace, my member churning and churning, her waist moving urgently, her face contorting rapidly, her features contorted in a grimace. My movements slowed, her moans weakening considerably, but a hint of resentment returned, her lips seeming to move. I gave her a sly smile, then resumed the rapid rhythm, gradually accelerating, my movements powerful and forceful, her moans finally turning into a drawn-out "Ah!" before falling silent, as if after a violent storm, leaving the dark room a desolate wasteland.

Suddenly, I received a call from Chen Lixia, who said she had twisted her ankle and was in so much pain she couldn't bear to put weight on it. I had just peed and returned to bed, still quite awake. I hurriedly asked her where she was, and she said, her voice trembling with tears, that she was in the self-service store. I told her to wait, then jumped out of bed, not even bothering to fix my hair, and rushed out the door.

I took a taxi to the store she mentioned, and it was bustling with happy shoppers. Beautifully decorated merchandise was displayed in front of the counters, mannequins in the windows wore pretty clothes, and sales assistants were tirelessly smiling and behaving warmly towards those who entered. It was then that I realized that in this enormous store, finding someone was like searching for a needle in a haystack. I had to call her again, and she said she was at the maternity and baby products counter. I grabbed someone who looked like a security guard and asked for directions. They told me to go to the fourth floor, take the escalator, and follow the crowd up the stairs. As the crowd gradually dispersed, I saw her sitting in a chair like a giant bat. She saw me, and a joyful smile spread across her eager face.

She was wearing a flowing dark green dress. Her legs were long, together, and tilted in one direction. She wasn't wearing stockings, revealing a pair of slender, fair legs. Her ankle was swollen, like a radish.

I carefully held her foot and gently placed it on the chair. She seemed to be in a lot of pain, and two tears rolled down her cheeks. "What happened?"

I asked. She whispered, "In the fitting room, I was trying on pants, and I slipped and tripped. This is how my foot is now."

I pinched her ankle hard, and she cried out, but not a heart-wrenching scream. I had experience with sports injuries that could cause sprains or fractures. Although her ankle was sprained, thankfully, the bone wasn't broken. I noticed her feet; they were undoubtedly captivating feet, naturally beautiful feet, and of course, she rarely bought or wore stockings. I felt her gaze, but instead of feeling awkward being stared at by a man, she clearly accepted it with pleasure, basking in it.

I suggested going to the hospital, but she was reluctant. At the hospital, registration and X-rays would take a long time just to wait in line, and the doctors wouldn't treat her much anyway.

Since she absolutely refused to go to the hospital, I carried her on my back. She wasn't the thin type, and luckily I'm tall and strong, so I carried her, her face beaming with gratitude, through the crowded mall. I smelled her increasingly strong scent, emanating from her clothes, her pores, and her hair. She pressed her lips to the back of my neck, the real touch of skin sending shivers down my spine.

We hailed a taxi at the mall entrance and went straight to her home. When we got out of the taxi, she refused to let me carry her anymore, instead leaning half her weight on my shoulder, walking with a limp.

I opened her door; her home was much simpler and more ordinary than I had imagined. Inside, there was an imported color TV and stereo, two bookshelves, and a cloisonné vase about half my height, adorned with a few feathers.

I sighed with relief and settled her on a row of plush sofas. She pointed towards the kitchen and said, "There are drinks in the fridge; pick whatever you want."

I chose a can of Coke, and while drinking, I joked, "Why didn't you call an ambulance? You only remembered me."

"I pulled out my phone, and your number was the first one I saw on the repeat button. What, you didn't want to?"

She raised her injured foot slightly and continued, "I regretted it after I called. Actually, if I wanted to, I could call anyone, not just an ambulance, but even a police car."

She blushed slightly as she said this. I wanted to laugh, and I was puzzled by her clumsy, somewhat awkward performance. I put down the drink can and said to her, "Now I'm going to massage your ankle, it might hurt."

"No, this is fine."

She clutched her injured ankle. I sat down at the other end of the sofa, gazing at her well-maintained, soft, white hands with red-painted nails. "Are you silly? This is a sprain, if I don't straighten it, it'll heal very slowly."

I said, lifting her skirt and holding her injured leg. My gaze slipped into her lifted skirt, catching a glimpse of black underwear on a patch of white. I felt ashamed and lewd, but I couldn't control my eyes. The foot

I held against my lower abdomen was small and soft, with curved toes like a small animal's webbed feet, and fleshy, boneless soles. I felt her sole pressing against my still-dormant member, and it seemed she felt it too, as her foot moved intentionally or unintentionally, causing that part to swell uncontrollably.

"How is it? Does it hurt?"

I pinched her ankle with one hand. She said, "It's numb. You can do it."

I looked into her eyes and said, "It will hurt a lot at first."

She stared at my face, her gaze so calm and confident. She made me realize that this was a woman who would see things through to the end.

I slowly shook her ankle, then suddenly pulled hard. She fell backward, clenched her teeth, and let out a painful cry. With my rougher movements, her breathing became suffocating, as if she were being strangled, followed by a drawn-out, cat-like meow, a fragile yet painful wail. My movements softened, and I gently massaged her like a massage. At this point, her face turned pale, her breathing became rapid, her other leg straightened naturally, and her fists were clenched tightly, as if she were holding something precious. Beads of sweat, large as beans, seeped from her forehead.

The contractions seemed to have subsided. She leaned back on the sofa, realizing her skirt had been lifted up, revealing her thighs. She quickly pulled it down, covering her exposed pubic area. Meanwhile, my crotch was already engorged and unusually thick, pressing tightly against my pants, almost causing the zipper to burst. She chuckled, clearly aware of my embarrassment. Her laughter was a mix of self-deprecation and shyness, her face even flushing. The blush on her fair face was very pronounced, a mature woman's shy allure.

"You should call your family back. Otherwise, who will take care of you?"

I asked, standing up from the sofa and trying to turn away, trying to escape her sight of my crotch. She sat up straight on the sofa, her eyes still glued to me, staring with a greedy, lustful gaze. She smiled, pursing her lips, and said, "You."

"Can I even count? What would I say if your husband suddenly came back?"

I waved my hand dismissively.

"Just say you were a hero, or that you saved a life, whatever sounds nice."

She even had the heart to joke now. "Anyway, I'm sticking with you now, until I can move around freely. What you need to do now is check the fridge for anything missing, replenish it immediately, and then cook me a meal."

She began to boss me around.

"Of course, I also need to help you bathe."

I feigned reluctance. "You're mean, teasing me."

She pretended to be annoyed, raising a delicate white hand as if to slap me across the face. I sensed in every action she took that we were tacitly seducing each other, a mockery of my timidity.

“Help me into the room, and remember to take the key, I can’t open the door for you,”

she said. As I approached, she slowly stretched out her arms, waiting for me to pick her up. Her figure was indeed the envy of women her age; her hips and legs were so long, her breasts were high, and her waist was very slender—an extremely full and graceful figure. I easily lifted her up, carried her horizontally, and followed her directions to the bedroom.

Her bedroom was completely different from the outside. There was a red carpet with large brown flowers on the floor, and the walls were covered with printed wallpaper. The crimson wallpaper was divided into equal squares by wooden frames, appearing very elastic and reminiscent of the parts of a woman wrapped in clothing. There were two still life paintings, and my gaze fell on the luxurious and soft bed with a Simmons mattress. I gently placed her on the bed and saw a framed photo on the bedside table—a picture of her family of three, all smiling happily.

Chen Lixia looked blissfully happy, nestled close to the man's shoulder. Between them sat her child, whose radiant smile and sunny disposition shone brightly. What shocked me most was the adult man in the photo, presumably her husband. He had deep-set eyes, a high nose, a square face, and a freshly shaved beard. He possessed a bull-like neck and a wild forehead, neither broad nor high, but it didn't detract from his success.

He was a man of great ambition, a victor in politics, love, and the game of life.

(11-02
Public Relations Career Chapter 17)

When I woke up again, I seemed to hear Li Jun's voice. I opened my eyes groggily and saw her sitting beside me, naked except for my shirt, her smooth thighs bent.

"It seems to be raining outside?"

she said, getting out of bed and pulling back the curtains on the balcony side. I could hear the raindrops falling on the eaves.

"How strange, it's raining this time of year,"

she said, quickly slipping into bed. Her cold body pressed against mine, the sudden movement of her in the warm blankets making me realize the biting cold of the winter wind and rain outside.

We embraced, then held each other tightly, chest to chest, waist to waist, limbs intertwined. My body heat gradually transferred to hers, and I felt her gradually warming up. I started unbuttoning her shirt from the collar, opening her front. When I came home last night, she was already fast asleep. I hadn't done anything, just stroked her skin as I drifted off to sleep. My hand caressed her breasts, gently stroking them repeatedly. Slowly, her nipples hardened, feeling rough like soft beans. Morning is when people are most energetic, and after a night's rest, I quickly became erect.

"What time did you get back? I had no idea,"

she asked, her hand still rubbing against my chest. "Maybe it was the middle of the night, I don't remember,"

I said, stopping my hand between her legs. "Besides drinking and chatting with customers, what else do you do?"

she asked. This was the question I least wanted to hear, but it had been deliberately or unintentionally placed before us lately.

She continued, "And some of you probably sleep with people."

"A few do,"

I replied absentmindedly. "There are rumors that you're actually a brothel, male prostitutes,"

she said. I didn't know how much she knew inside, and while continuing what I was doing, I tentatively said, "You believe that too? Okay, then let me, this male prostitute, serve you."

Suddenly, I yanked off the covers. Her body instinctively recoiled, her eyes widening as she said, "What are you going to do..."

Ignoring her astonishment, I stripped off her shirt, leaving her completely naked. I pulled off her underwear, removing it from her ankles, and asked her, "What kind of service do you need?"

"I want to enjoy your oral sex; I've heard it's quite good,"

she said, stretching out her limbs.

I sat at her feet, her skin white and full, looking down at her entire body. Her breasts were small and perky. I slowly lowered my head, first kissing the nipples that protruded from her breasts. I buried my face in her chest for a while before slowly moving downwards, kissing my way from her soft abdomen to the sparse, withered pubic hair below. Instantly, she sighed softly, writhing uncomfortably. I seemed to notice and looked up. She said, "I can't take it anymore, this service is too much, come on."

With practiced ease, I pulled my pillow over and placed it under her low-set waist. She already understood this, gently lifting her hips to match. This caused her slightly parted legs and the pubic hair to bulge upwards.

I pressed my body against hers, our lower abdomens pressed tightly together. It was easy for her to take me in, and once inside, she swayed slowly back and forth.

This position is most likely to inspire a man to take the initiative. He hooks his arm around her long neck, one hand supporting her soft, white buttocks. At this moment, I am full of energy and aroused. By slightly lowering my waist and coordinating with the thrusting of my hips, I can deeply penetrate her most crucial area, causing her to writhe uncontrollably. I manipulate

her like this for a while, initially content to passively relax and enjoy the pleasure, her movements relatively monotonous, simply spreading her thighs as I thrust. But as I relentlessly pound and ravage that area from below, she can no longer withstand the intense stimulation. She slightly opens her lips, her breaths becoming increasingly rapid and delicate.

I straightened my back, grasped her slender waist with both hands, and lifted her white, satin-like legs onto my shoulders. This made her most intimate area even more exposed and prominent. My thrusts became more powerful and frenzied, her cries more wanton and pitiful, sometimes continuous moans, sometimes monotonous groans. Her sudden climaxes always came in various positions. Whenever that overwhelming pleasure surged through her body, her whole body seemed to convulse, her muscles stiffening and her torso rigid. I always accurately grasped the peak of her desire, thus achieving pleasure myself. This time was no exception. At first, she looked down upon my naked body, majestic and joyful, as if she wanted to devour me and grind me to powder. After the intimate physical contact, she still retained some ambition and arrogance. But when I unleashed my full power, she crumbled completely, only able to surrender and beg for mercy.

I couldn't resist releasing myself either, my surging passion erupting like a tidal wave within her. In that instant, my magnificent body lost its strength, collapsing like rubble onto her soft form. As her moans grew weaker, her body relaxed more and more, as if her bones had been removed. My body was like a ruin, except her skin, stimulated by hormones, became as lustrous as silk.

I knew that if I closed my eyes and relaxed, I could quickly drift off to sleep, but that would leave her, who had finally found satisfaction, alone and lonely.

A woman's pleasure is slow, requiring both the intense, surging pleasure of the flesh and the gentle, flowing tenderness of a stream—this is what Zhang Yan often said. Even though I was utterly exhausted, I still mustered the last of my strength to embrace her, our skin warming each other. This wasn't to seek new thrills or pleasure, but rather to conclude everything peacefully after the feast of joy, with skin to skin.

It almost became my mission, or rather, my responsibility, to pull her naked body back into my arms, using my chest as a pillow, letting her and me drift into a light, drizzly morning nap. I don't know how long it was before I awoke from my morning nap, and she, as if infected, also opened her eyes. "What time is it?"

I glanced at the clock beside my pillow and told her it was a little past nine.

She didn't seem inclined to get up immediately, remaining in the afterglow of her nap, pressing her body even closer to mine, listening to the low howl of the wind outside the balcony. "It's still raining."

I nodded, and after a while, I got up, drew back the curtains, and a light rain poured down on the window. The glass window, which had been pitch black in the morning, was now bright again, but the misty rain obscured all view, except for the faint outline of the roof protruding from the balcony. "Will it stop?"

she asked, getting up and looking outside anxiously.

"Maybe," the weather station said, "the rain will stop by noon," but I wasn't very confident.

"With this awful weather, how can the plane even take off?"

She searched the room naked for clothes. I'd left my underwear under the bed, but I found her bra in the bathroom, along with some trousers hanging on a chair outside. She said she was going to Hong Kong with a local investment promotion team at noon. It was an important reporting assignment, and everyone at the station was scrambling to get good results, but the deputy mayor leading the team had specifically chosen her. She spoke of it so casually, as if she didn't care about this tiring but lucrative job at all.

She dragged out her suitcase from some corner and stuffed some of her clothes into it from the closet. But who knows? Perhaps her reserved and controlled manner had earned her favor with her superiors, perhaps it was simply her beauty that attracted their attention, or perhaps she was simply their mistress. I'm as sensitive as a dog to these kinds of things.

For the next few days, she was a constant presence on local news television. Whenever the station had a special program, it would broadcast it day and night, often with recaps of similar programs showcasing local customs and traditions. But the programming was all the same old stuff: welcoming and farewell banquets, meetings with local overseas Chinese leaders and fellow villagers. The programs lacked any creativity or vitality. In contrast, the deputy mayor leading the delegation, Wang Chuping, seemed much more kind and approachable, and his speech was quick-witted, intelligent, and exceptionally humorous.

Dongzi said Zheng Ming and his friends were throwing a big party for Christmas, and he'd told me several days earlier. I'd half-heartedly agreed. On the day, he actually called me and said he'd drive over to pick me up immediately. I told him not to come, and suggested we meet somewhere and I'd wait for him. I didn't want him bringing all sorts of random people to my place. While I wasn't intentionally keeping this a secret, nor was I hiding a mistress, I didn't want it to become public knowledge. Finally, we agreed that I'd wait for him at the street corner. The weather outside was nice; the southern winters weren't nearly as bitterly cold as some other winters. I chose a gray suit, a bright red shirt, and a vibrant tie, which seemed to blend well with the festive atmosphere. This emerging city seemed to have an inexplicable enthusiasm for imported culture, perhaps providing a reason for the fashionable to indulge in unrestrained revelry. Walking down the street, the festive spirit was palpable everywhere. Couples were seen entering and leaving restaurants and department stores, carrying shopping bags, while shops took the opportunity to offer discounts and promotions—another night filled with excitement.

Dongzi had gotten a new car again, this time a fully imported Japanese Jeep. The interior was spacious and the seats comfortable, giving it a somewhat aloof feel. I sat next to him, fastened my seatbelt, and the car sped off. It was rush hour, and various vehicles and pedestrians thronged the streets, everyone hurrying along, each face a strange mix of desires and countless secrets, moving forward in a blur. I asked why he was alone. He said the others had arrived long ago. This gathering was meticulously planned by Zheng Ming, and the guest list was carefully chosen, with a suitable male-to-female ratio—all cool, pleasure-loving, and indulgent men and women.

He wore a white silk Chinese-style shirt and trousers, making him look like a handsome man from an ancient legend. He spoke with great enthusiasm, clearly having been looking forward to it for a long time. As soon as we got on the overpass, we rolled down all the car windows and, as if racing, sang along loudly to the car stereo in the wind. It sounded like howling ghosts and wolves, but it was truly soothing and uplifting, giving the illusion that all our worries had vanished.

The car turned off the highway onto a seaside avenue. I knew this was the hillside villa area I'd often seen in real estate ads on TV lately. But unlike what I'd seen on TV, there were no wide roads, no schools, shopping malls, or entertainment facilities everywhere. Instead, there were unfinished buildings and migrant workers leaving the site. But things changed once we reached the top of the mountain. The grass on both sides of the one-way road didn't wither with winter, and the wildflowers covering the hillsides were still vibrant with springtime colors. The pines and cypresses stood tall and verdant, their

branches laden with green leaves, full of life. In the distance, red-roofed villas with white walls hid among the lush greenery, their beauty alluring yet veiled. Dongzi drove straight to a villa nestled in the shade of the trees atop the mountain, honked the horn sharply, and the urgent sound echoed for a long time in the open mountain. Soon, someone opened the door.

As the door opened, a wave of heat, mixed with perfume and body odor, rushed out. A tall man opened the door and smiled, inviting us to come in. Upon entering the living room, a scene of heavy makeup and sensual allure unfolded before our eyes. Velvet curtains adorned each window with exquisite charm, the noble purple hue filling one's soul with romance. Several couples were in the living room, seated on sofas and armchairs, sipping their fine wines. Zheng Ming strode towards us, her demeanor intoxicatingly seductive. "My friends, you've finally arrived,"

she announced, introducing the others behind her. "This is my lover, Dongzi, and the handsome Alan."

I nodded to the others, some raising their glasses in greeting, others waving. Mei was also there, cigarette in hand, her eyes darting about. They all harbored a utterly unromantic, manipulative heart, their faces plastered with insincere smiles. The men

continued telling lewd jokes, the women laughing exaggeratedly, occasionally lightly punching the men's arms with their small fists.

An indescribable unease, opulence, and illusion hung in the air.

Soft music played in the room, and a seductive female voice, tinged with melancholy, slowly emerged. The sofa was comfortable, the lighting just right, and the long table was laden with red wine, sausages, and fruit. Everyone in the room was humming and talking under the soft light. Besides Dongzi and me, there were four other men in the room, all with the self-promotional expressions of prostitutes. In reality, most of them were employees of large companies, mostly highly educated and successful individuals. Yet, here, drinking fine wine, their faces were filled with ambiguity. I truly didn't understand why they would willingly act as gigolos for these gossipy, wealthy women.

I gradually adapted to the atmosphere, chatting with everyone, the topic circling around true and false rumors and ambiguous comments.

At that moment, Zheng Ming tapped her wine glass with a silver spoon. She was wearing a shimmering evening gown, her entire upper body exposed, making her look like a TV variety show host. She said that tonight, men and women here could indulge themselves without restraint, whoever they fancied. There were plenty of rooms and beds. Before she could finish speaking, a terrifying scream, whistling, and stomping suddenly erupted from the corner, almost lifting the ceiling. There was even the sound of shattering glass. She shouted, "Don't break the glasses! If you're going to throw them away, wait until this party is over."

"Tonight's activities are up to you, but after tonight, no one is allowed to mention it again. Just turn the page, no dragging things out."

She clearly announced the rules of the night. "How did you come up with this?"

It was Mei speaking, as if she were speaking specifically to me. Dongzi grinned foolishly and said, "Isn't this exactly what you wanted?"

"What if I wanted to offer myself to you?"

She joked, narrowing her eyes. Dongzi didn't back down: "Then let's try."

I couldn't predict how this group orgy would develop, but drinking red wine under the hazy lights was truly exhilarating.

Just then, the LCD TV on the wall started playing music. Dongzi, seemingly out of nowhere, produced a rose, which he held in his mouth. Holding a wireless microphone, he knelt on one knee and, with exaggerated theatrical gestures, said to Mei, "I cordially invite this beautiful lady to the stage for a heartfelt performance."

Mei giggled, extended a slender hand, and he led her to the upper part of the living room.

Scattered applause rippled through the room. They played the roles of deeply affectionate lovers, exchanging flirtatious glances in front of everyone. Zheng Ming came over and handed me his wine glass, then casually put his arm around my waist, pressing his cheek against my back. Their song had ended. Dongzi again put the rose in his mouth and handed it to Mei. Mei pouted and took it from his mouth. Through the rose stem, the two kissed passionately, as if lost in ecstasy. Everyone turned to look at them, as if they were extraterrestrials.

Fiery red roses, a woman's crimson lips, utterly alluring and beautiful, yet Zheng Ming seemed oblivious, bringing his lips to the wine glass in my hand and taking a small sip. Then, a soft body rolled into my arms, and I froze, surrendering all my strength to her. In this intoxicating night, we found a scene of carnal revelry.

(Public Relations Career Chapter 18)

Some people started taking their female companions upstairs, and a couple slipped outside to bask in the moonlight. A man on the sofa demonstrated his card-changing trick to Zheng Ming, attracting several others. Dongzi and Mei were among them. The man waved his hand in the air, and the cards disappeared. He scanned the women around him, saying, "That card is on any of you."

The women gasped, some covering their open necklines, others quickly pulling their skirts tighter. The man pretended to lift one's skirt, tugged at another's chest, and finally pulled the card from Zheng Ming's bra.

"That's strange. You two weren't in cahoots all along, were you?"

Dongzi's hand caressed Mei's thigh as he spoke, and Mei quickly pulled her knees together. The man, speaking to one of the women, said he would make her clothes disappear. Between belief and disbelief, they vanished in a struggle. Others were shouting hoarsely into a microphone. Food was a mess on the long table in the living room, and everyone's eyes were glazed over like scorched eggs. The crowd gradually dispersed, each busy with their own activities. Dongzi's hands continued their relentless advances. Mei swayed her hips and shifted her legs, trying her best to resist the restless hands. Dongzi's hands chased after her relentlessly, and the two wrestled like wrestlers for a while. As her resistance wore off, Dongzi's fingertips touched the skin of her thigh. "That's good..."

At this moment, Dongzi's fingers were comfortably caressing her smooth skin.

Stealing a glance at Zheng Ming, she remained seated in her chair, wine glass in hand, gazing at the night view outside the window, a picture of serene composure. But looking more closely at Dongzi and Mei, the woman's skirt was parted in the front, and the man's hand was clearly visible beneath the sheer fabric. Mei seemed to already know what Dongzi's hand was trying to do and what it was seeking, and she knew that letting Zheng Ming discover this at this moment was unforgivable, yet she still silently tolerated Dongzi

's hesitant yet desperately trying movements. Dongzi seemed to have already sensed her magnanimity, and thus expanded the range of his fingers' movements, moving back and forth within the permitted space, while maintaining a nonchalant expression.

This was definitely his brilliance, a clever trap. Mei knew she shouldn't fall for it, but her body was indeed gradually warming up. Her waist twisted restlessly, and a pink tongue darted out, licking her dry lips. At this moment, her body had detached from her mind and begun to move forward on its own.

Amidst the verdant green of a cluster of Brazilian ironwood trees, I stood a distance behind the sofa. Zheng Ming glanced at me sideways, her gaze subtle yet intensely aggressive. I stared blankly and blew her a kiss, responding enthusiastically to her affectionate gaze. She bobbed her head happily, a surge of joyful desire coursing through her, an emotion that numbed my senses and robbed me of all intelligence. She wasn't like this before; she used to look down on everyone, her eyes only on Dongzi. She was too arrogant, believing we were subservient to her, mere embellishments, her appendages. Even the way she addressed us unconsciously betrayed her pride and arrogance.

Drinking amidst the shimmering gold of the lamplight and the warm, smoky air, amidst the fragrant music, she walked towards me, scrutinizing my clothes, and smiled, saying, "This outfit suits you well."

"You too,"

I replied, not as flattery, but because the black evening gown, under the dim light, made the exposed white even more striking. She twirled, letting the strap of her dress slip down her arm.

"Really?"

Her voice had a strange childlike quality, and her every move exuded a wanton allure.

She stopped on the stairs, leaning against the carved railing, and laughed loudly, saying, "I want another sip of wine."

I held the glass to her face, but she didn't take the wine. Instead, she grabbed my tie and pulled it off. Her eyes were watery with excitement, her lips slightly parted, her eyes tightly closed, awaiting my kiss. But I didn't kiss her lips; I simply kissed her forehead lightly.

She seemed excited, a shiver of pleasure washing over her. She ruffled my dry hair, her pubic bone rubbing against his thigh. Suddenly, she cried out, "No, kiss me more passionately!"

She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to mine. At first, I kissed her lightly, but then, as if unable to control my rising emotions, I gripped her hair tightly with my left hand, caressed her buttocks with my right, and held her close, kissing her passionately. This continued for a while, until she let out a soft moan of excitement, her body seemingly going limp in his arms.

We kissed passionately and intimately at the bend in the stairs. Her lips were moist and warm, like the stamens of a flower in the morning. Our bodies writhed restlessly, intertwined like two trees.

One hand slipped inside her collar to her breasts, the other slid down to her thigh.

We moved like this up to the second floor, stopping at the door of a room in the corridor. We barely changed position, only our waists were twisting. I shoved the door open with my shoulder

. It was pitch black inside. "Hey, aren't you going to take your clothes off?" she said, her starry eyes glancing at me seductively. Then, she stretched out her arms and wrapped them around my neck, then leaped up, wrapping her legs around my waist like a lazy monkey, suspending herself on a tree. I obediently clasped my hands under her rounded buttocks, effortlessly and steadily lifting her up.

She couldn't wait any longer, leaning down to kiss me. Our lips met, hers locking mine, her soft tongue slipping into mine. I, in turn, couldn't resist sucking on her tongue, our kiss becoming a passionate, intoxicating experience.

Her body writhed against mine, her full breasts trembling with each movement. Slowly, as the darkness settled, I carried her to the bed and placed her there. I gracefully untied the straps of her dress, even expertly removing her panties. I squinted, gazing down at her; her eyes and expression were filled with anticipation and lust.

Her body was completely exposed, and she moaned and groaned exaggeratedly, as if enduring a torture she was willing to bear but unable to. I pressed my body down upon her, her arms tightening around my neck, her legs raised high, eagerly and impatiently welcoming my erect member, like someone opening a door to humbly greet an uninvited guest's impulsive entry.

It easily slid into her already wet depths, the warmth palpable. My member plunged in all the way, lingering inside, almost melting from the wonderful sensation of her soft embrace. Remaining motionless, she seemed to writhe unbearably. "Hey..." I understood

her burning desire, but remained unmoved. I gently shifted my hips, continuing to deepen her pleasure with these gentle touches, waiting for her pleading cry.

"Oh, stop it..."

My intentions were quickly noticed, and she cried out coquettishly.

"Hurry up..."

At this moment, her lust seemed to have reached a boiling point, burning to its peak. If it continued, she would automatically sublimate to the ultimate state in less than a minute. Just as she was about to reach her limit of endurance, she finally made a request. It sounded like a plea, a coquettish plea, and a cry all at once.

Sensing this change, I thrust even more forcefully and wildly, as if all the strength in my body was concentrated in my lower abdomen, making my penis dance up and down and left and right with ease.

"Hey..."

she pleaded, trying to turn her body over. I knew exactly what she was feeling; this was the manifestation of her struggling, desperately thirsting, and in agony, as her long-accumulated lust was boiling within her body, ready to burst forth. I slowed down my thrusting; now I was waiting for her pleading words. Facing this woman who was always aloof and arrogant, I needed her to sincerely plead, "I beg you." Just those words were enough for me to grant her wish, to send her to the peak of passion, to let her experience the ecstasy of lovemaking, to gleefully plunge myself into her burning body.

"Please..."

she seemed to have reached her limit, but I still cruelly asked her,

"What do you want?"

"I want to devour you."

She broke free from my embrace, her body leaping up with the agility of a beast, pinning me beneath her. Although I held the advantage by teasing her, once she was on top, I would become her victim, at her mercy. Her body, already burning like a fireball from the torment, was glistening with sweat from her rounded shoulders and high breasts, while her pubic area seemed to be nourished by a spring.

As she straddled me, her slender hands grasping the thing that had humiliated her, she swayed her hips, and after finding the right position, she thrust her hips forward, slowly and hesitantly taking it inside. She rode on top of me

, controlling the direction of her sexual pleasure. As if retaliating for my earlier neglect, she pressed and pounded relentlessly, moaning wildly, her hair flying wildly as she reached her climax. Someone pushed open the door, but she continued her relentless thrusting. She gestured for silence to the couple who had opened the door, calmly continuing her unfinished pleasure. The footsteps outside faded away. She continued her thrusting, taking cigarettes and a lighter from the bedside table, tilting her head back and exhaling smoke towards the ceiling. From

the next room came a woman's hysterical screams, like owls hooting in the night.

Aroused by the woman's naked body and ecstatic posture, I desperately resisted my collapsing body and continued my struggle with her. She kept saying "I can't take it anymore," but in reality, she reached the peak again and again. Her intense reactions terrified me. After her relentless pursuit, I finally gave up, and the woman finally collapsed on the bed, exhausted. As the afterglow of pleasure lingered, her body still trembled slightly from time to time, as if savoring the afterglow of lovemaking.

We embraced each other naked, both panting and catching our breath from the frenzy. Suddenly, she had a whim. She pulled me up, then, disregarding her nakedness, grabbed a shirt and covered her chest, pulling me out of the room. As she searched the other rooms in the corridor, she pushed open doors wantonly. Some people were making love in the bathtub, while others were caressing and entwining on the carpet. The air was filled with the scents of men and women, the pungent smell of lust, and the stench of smoke, alcohol, and sweat, enough to choke the mosquitoes flying around.

I found Dongzi and Mei in a room. Mei's snow-white thighs were wrapped around Dongzi's body like a large snake. Dongzi lay on his side beside her, his head bowed, his tongue enveloping her nipple. Their naked lower bodies were pressed tightly together, and his fingers, which had been on her vulva, began to move lightly like a brush. I stared at them for a while. Their naked bodies were extremely obscene. Mei was shamelessly toying with Dongzi. She twisted her slender waist and changed positions, letting Dongzi continue to suckle her other breast, indulging in the pleasure of playing with a man who interested her, much like some little girls express their strong interest in a small animal by manipulating it. She glanced at the two of us and blew me a kiss, indicating that I could join in if I wanted.

Our unexpected arrival did not affect their interest; on the contrary, it aroused some lewd and indecent thoughts deep in their hearts. Although it was not exactly perverted, these slight taboos in the realm of normalcy made them even more lewd. I remained noncommittal, but I noticed Zheng Ming. A flush of excitement crossed her face, as if she were beginning to show a keen interest in some unusual behavior. Mei was no longer content with the slow, weak thrusting; she rolled over and mounted Dongzi, like a small boat tossed about on a stormy river. Her wide-open thighs and the area between them were covered in wet droplets, and with each rapid thrust, her labia flipped wildly. Dongzi, below, thrust upwards, his hands gripping her plump buttocks and pulling her down repeatedly. She cried out in pleasure, her hands flailing wildly. Soon, both of them were drenched in sweat, truly lost in ecstasy.

Zheng Ming climbed onto the bed willingly and lay down beside them. The bed was large enough. She embraced Dongzi's sweaty body from behind and hurriedly began nibbling at his shoulders. I sensed her desire intensifying. I had always believed that men had absolute dominance in sex, and I always felt a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction when I saw women moaning and rolling around under my ministrations. But Zheng Ming, who had just experienced a passionate encounter, was now burning with desire again. I was moved, even amazed, by the woman's rich and varied beauty. There was a wild, even wicked, power within her. I felt slightly uneasy, even a little afraid, about her intense reaction.

Dongzi seemed to share the same unease. The two bodies lying on the bed, one strong and one gentle, their bodies locked in a passionate embrace, had come to an end. Mei's exaggerated moans of pleasure and Dongzi's heavy, locomotive-like breathing had temporarily subsided. His chest, damp with sweat, and his hands and arms drenched, he pulled away from Mei's lower body, then curled up, burying his face in Zheng Ming's lower abdomen as she lay on her back.

I was stunned. His tongue traced down her lower abdomen, licking the high, fleshy crevice, while a finger teased a few tender hairs. Zheng Ming was now weak and shy, only half her buttocks touching the mattress. She verbally rejected Dongzi's frenzy, but still lay on her back, trying to spread her legs, her body clearly displaying a provocative posture, trying to welcome his tongue. At the same time, a hand slowly lowered, gently placing it on his head, stroking it tenderly, gradually moving from his head to his cheek. Dongzi, receiving her touch, naturally understood the pleasure, and also the encouragement, so he licked and sucked her there even more vigorously.

Mei, not to be outdone, jumped off the bed and rushed to me. Despite the frenzy just now, she showed no signs of fatigue. Her hands slid across my body like an avalanche.

"So smooth,"

she exclaimed, lightly touching my moist skin. As if her bones had been removed from her legs, her body slowly slid down, kneeling before me, her hands manipulating my now hardening member. She nestled her face against that spot, the sensation of her soft, warm touch sending shivers down my spine; my heart trembled.

To make it easier for her, I slowly backed up onto the sofa, eventually collapsing onto it. She knelt on the carpet, following my every step. I spread my legs on the sofa and sandwiched her body between me. Her head nestled against my stomach, and she pressed her advantage, shamelessly kissing me. (

Chapter 19 of Public Relations Career)

This was a kind of exhilarating pleasure that ignited passion and raging desire. It was a game I had never played before. The couple on the bed changed into various lewd positions, possessing a devilish energy, as if testing their sexual stamina, completely and frantically intertwined. Dongzi's penis was incredibly hard; his excitement and lust made Zheng Ming moan incessantly beneath him.

Their naked bodies and intense movements seemed to infect us as well. The scene I witnessed aroused my sexual interest to its peak. Mei, who was moving up and down, was not to be outdone; her moans grew louder and her movements faster, her climax approaching with each passing second.

When semen, saliva, and sweat covered every pore of our bodies, Mei finally climbed off me and rolled onto the carpet, panting heavily. During our intercourse, I had desperately tried to hold back, and now, that restraint had worked wonders; my penis was erect again. It showed

no signs of weakening, remaining stubbornly erect like rubber. This left Zheng Ming, on the bed, somewhat dumbfounded. She had just pulled away from Dongzi's body, holding his head in her arms, watching and giggling, sometimes whispering sweet nothings in his ear, sometimes rubbing against him. Finally, they both rolled off the bed, landing under my raised legs. Zheng Ming sat up, turning her back to me, swaying her white hips. This action was unexpected; for a moment, I was taken aback, my brow furrowing slightly.

She teased them like a stripper, and everyone harbored lustful thoughts. Now that the window had been opened, they no longer hesitated. I embraced her from behind as she swayed and twisted, pulling her soft buttocks towards me with both hands. She cooperated, offering her round bottom. After a moment, I accepted her advances. Mei, who had gradually regained her strength, lay on the carpet, one of her jade-like legs pressed against Dongzi's chest. She played with his ear with her toes, then stroked his face. Seeing that he didn't seem to mind, she gently traced her toes back and forth on his lips.

They exchanged partners, and this collective debauchery kept them entertained. Sometimes they shared a man, sometimes they each threw themselves into a man's arms. Enjoying something alone had its pleasures, and sharing it together had its thrills. One-on-one revelry with a man was delicate and graceful, but sharing a man was lively and endlessly pleasurable. Finally, they lay exhausted together on the huge bed.

I don't know how much time passed, but I woke up in a daze, feeling a little hungry. I removed Zheng Ming's arm from my chest and moved one of Mei's thighs away. Wearing only my underwear, I went outside to find something to eat. Everyone else had vanished without a trace, not even a note. The floor, table, and sofa were covered with food scraps, cigarette ash, empty cardboard boxes, soiled tissues, a smelly sock, and a pair of black lace panties—a truly horrifying sight. My face flushed and burned. These women, flaunting their jewels and fine clothes in broad daylight, lived smugly at the top of the city, but their passion for life had long been eroded by their extravagant lifestyle. They had even lost the last vestige of self-respect that women possess. More often than not, they hoped that people, especially men, would treat them as the most wanton and shameless prostitutes, indulging in a decadent and depraved lifestyle. I suddenly understood. This was the most wonderful kind of madness for people like them, and what they longed for—to create something new, to generate an unexpected climax.

When I returned to my apartment and finally opened the door, I found the entire place bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Some kind of incense was burning, and a faint scent of rose essential oil filled the air. Soft, beautiful music played from the record player. Li Jun was asleep, reclining on the living room sofa.

I gently stroked her slightly curled hair, surprised by the peaceful and beautiful features she displayed in the candlelight. Although I knew everything about her, I still often felt a sudden, intense shyness and my heart would race when I looked at her, as if we were meeting for the first time.

In terms of personality, hobbies, and even eating and dressing habits, we were the same kind of people. Even our appearances were similar—sometimes ordinary, sometimes bright and captivating.

Therefore, from the very beginning, I believed we were a match made in heaven, each other's one and only, and would be together forever. Although she never said it explicitly, I understood her.

She was wearing one of my white shirts, an oversized men's shirt that concealed her curvaceous figure. I quietly sat on the sofa, moved her head to my lap, and slipped one hand under the front of the shirt, around to her waist, enjoying the warmth of her skin before gently caressing her in circles. After repeating this several times, I slowly pulled up the hem, revealing her legs from the back of her knees to her thighs. It seemed she wasn't wearing anything under the shirt. Realizing this, I pulled it up further, catching a glimpse of her rounded buttocks peeking out from her slender legs.

In the candlelight, my eyes were fixed on the two mounds exposed after the shirt was fully lifted. As I looked, a wicked thought suddenly arose in my mind. Thinking of the enchanting scene that would unfold on the bed, I felt an irrepressible excitement and focused on creating this warm atmosphere.

Li Jun woke up. Her expression seemed slightly bewildered for a moment when she saw me, then she realized something, sat up abruptly, hugged me, and gently nuzzled my neck with her head. I smelled her familiar and pleasant scent, and was about to say something when she covered my mouth with her hand, gesturing for me to get up and follow her. Despite my confusion, I was led by the hand towards the balcony, making all sorts of wild guesses as we walked. Fireworks?

Tea? Dancing? We'd done these romantic things before. But today wasn't her birthday or any other special day.

Although the weather forecast said this winter wouldn't be too cold, the balcony at midnight still sent a chill down my spine, especially since she was only wearing a thin shirt. "Don't be childish, be careful not to catch a cold,"

I said, trying to pull her back into the room. She broke free of my hand. "I have something important to tell you."

She backed away until she was close to the balcony railing. The moon was full that night, its light shining brightly on her, making her face look beautiful. Beneath her gathered hair was a slender neck, the soft lines flowing down her shoulders to her waist, then to her full hips. Although she was wearing a long white shirt, her two rounded thighs were exposed, clearly visible in the moonlight.

Outside the balcony, the night seemed to be shrouded in a large black net. The streetlights cast a dim glow, and the street looked hazy. A sad love song drifted by from somewhere. "Let's break up,"

she said firmly, clearly after careful consideration. Her serious tone held no hint of jest. I took a breath, not knowing what to say. At that moment, everything went dark, the world regressed to a chaotic, savage period, reason was clouded, and my mind went blank. I only remember saying "No" in a panic. Yes, at that moment, I wasn't just surprised, I was terrified.

"What do you know?"

I said, a bitter taste rising in my throat and hitting my nostrils. Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head, saying, "I won't tell you, so as not to hurt you, but I can't bear it."

Tears streamed from her eyes, clinging to her long eyelashes. "Since you already know, whatever."

I feigned indignation; my eyes must have been as cold as a snail's, making her uncomfortable. Perhaps my rudeness stemmed from my inner weakness, as if she had scratched some hidden sore.

She continued, sobbing, "Alan, if you didn't do this job, we'd be fine. Even if you were a penniless pauper, I'd earn money to support you, to make our lives like everyone else's." She spoke very quickly

, her face pale. I heard the sound of blood flowing through her body and the soft creaking of her bones. A sense of despair washed over me. I thought of the intimate days we'd spent together, and realized I'd fallen into the trap of sex again. I coughed and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Stop talking. I agree."

With that, I turned and went into the room.

I lit a cigarette on the sofa, carefully recalling every detail of our relationship, from the moment we met to the point where we were together—the coincidences and inevitabilities that had occurred in this incomplete love. She came in silently, sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest. She looked haggard, like a pitiful, unattractive little mouse.

Something in the air burned sweetly for

a moment, then vanished. A heavy, black premonition gripped my heart. With an irreversible momentum, I locked myself in the bathroom. A rush of warm water washed over me, the rising steam obscuring everything, followed by a long silence. It was only then that I realized how terrified I was of seeing this reality: I was truly going to lose her. It was like shattering a mirror and not being able to find my own reflection, like lifting a veil and not believing my own eyes. Five minutes later, I came out of the bathroom, combed my wet hair until it was smooth and shiny, and wore a white bathrobe that accentuated the bulging muscles of my chest, a vague smile on my face. "Sleep,"

I said, trying to keep my voice natural.

She rolled her eyes a few times, looked at me, and suddenly, like a clown, began to cry uncontrollably, her sobs utterly unsightly. Her crying was silent, only her extremely distorted features and convulsive expression remained, as if a dagger had been plunged into her throat. I looked at her silently. At that moment, I felt I had forgiven her. Or perhaps it wasn't forgiveness; she hadn't actually done anything wrong. What was strange was that I had chosen that profession from the beginning, like a member of a permissive society. She wasn't wrong; in my eyes, she had always been right.

She hugged me from behind, and I could feel her wet eyelashes fluttering against my neck, tickling me. Her tears flowed like poison down my neck and body. A clock chimed evenly on the wall, tears gushed in the moonlight, a sparse, cold wind whispered, and the ticking of time seemed fragile, making the room feel vast. A feeling of being hurt stirred within me, making me desire her body. I roughly flipped her over and threw her onto the bed. I watched her frail body sink into the mattress with a small bounce, and I straddled her, pinning her down.

A deadly panic flickered in her eyes; she didn't understand when my madness had begun to brew and then erupted uncontrollably. "No, let me go!"

she cried, still waving her small fists and pounding on me. "Give up!"

I whispered in her ear that resistance was futile, and abruptly unbuttoned her shirt, the front of the long blouse opening wide, her breasts suddenly peeking out from the opening.

Li Jun's breasts weren't large, but they were round and firm. Now, suddenly exposed, they held a captivating allure, a hint of surprise in her expression.

She knew her breasts were exposed and tried to close her shirt, but I quickly pressed her hands back to her sides. She struggled again, and I pressed her back down, repeating this several times. Finally, I used my knee to subdue her hands, and she finally stopped moving, leaving only her legs swinging back and forth, thumping like drumsticks on the mattress. I pressed my hips between her calves. Before I could see her expression, before I could discern her desire, I pulled down her underwear like a butcher skinning her.

She continued to scream, but the outcome on the bed was already clear. The more she struggled, the more energy she expended, and the force of her heels gradually weakened until she finally had to bend her knees and spread her legs.

She had no choice but to submit, yield, and bite. I pressed my body down on her, and the moment I touched her warm, smooth skin, I could no longer resist and thrust into her, penetrating her deeply. In an instant, she let out a cry that sounded like a wail, her body involuntarily leaning forward. I quickly reached out and supported her hips, stabilizing her waist. This seemed cruel to her frail body, but perhaps she desired this state.

I showed no mercy, thrusting relentlessly, my eyes wide, half-loving, half-hating as I gazed at her naked body. Her nose, breasts, and ankles shone with a captivating allure in the dim light. Her desire gradually emerged with my assault. Driven by love, her features slowly surfaced like islands emerging from the mist, regaining their former allure and beauty. She even curled her slender waist and moved joyfully from the bed, welcoming my wanton thrusts. The room smelled damp and slightly bitter after a heavy rain. Our bodies were intertwined on the dimly lit bed, our flesh and blood seemingly rediscovering memories of each other. I swirled and soared within her, employing captivating techniques, the pleasure lasting a long time.

This lovemaking was like a spirit from a black humor master's pen, arriving just when we were convinced our relationship was truly over. Simultaneously, an unprecedented climax descended. Her pale thighs were tightly wrapped around my hips, her body trembling. I ejaculated with pleasure, releasing the fire burning within me, releasing my resentment, my anger, my helplessness.

Our bodies felt immense pressure, a destructive madness.

I rolled off her and lay on the pristine white sheets, feeling utterly dejected. She held me tightly, and for a moment I truly wanted to hold her back, to beg her not to leave me. I was willing to completely change myself for her, but that courage only lasted a few seconds. She lay beside me, neither of us wanting to make a sound. She then embraced me from behind, and we lay on our sides, like two loving silver spoons, gleaming with a cold, metallic light.

The next day, when I awoke from a deep sleep, I rubbed my aching head and discovered she was gone. She was gone, taking all her belongings with her. I searched the entire house, as if in disbelief, but she was truly gone. It was nearly noon; the sun was bright, and a faint warmth of spring filled the air.

I walked towards the hotel with extremely peaceful steps, greeting familiar neighbors and even tossing a few small bills to the beggar who often appeared near the hotel. The city was still bustling and vibrant, the hotel's neon lights flashing and dazzling, but I walked with an unusual calm, as if I had reached the end of a love story. The Li Jun I knew was slowly being covered by time. She remained in my memory as a passionate memory, and sometimes I would see her on the television screen, still charming and fresh-faced, but I could only smile bitterly, because life itself cannot allow you to be sentimental forever.

[The End]

The Story of the State-owned Assets Supervision and Administration Commission, Chapter 1:

In the summer of 1998, I was about to graduate from university and faced the choice of returning to my hometown to live a mediocre life or staying in the provincial capital, this metropolis. As someone with a non-local household registration, my chances of staying were zero. Just when I was worrying about this, an opportunity came! The newly established State-owned Assets Supervision and Administration Commission of X City needed several young people and came to my school to recruit.

The head of the school's academic affairs office is from my hometown, and we're already quite familiar with each other. Upon hearing the news, I went to his house that evening with two packs of Zhonghua cigarettes and a 2000 yuan supermarket gift card. After some pleasantries, the head of the office agreed to recommend me. Whether I'll be selected depends on my luck.

If it weren't for the central government's directive to select young cadres from among the students for training, I probably would never have had this opportunity; the provincial leaders would have already allocated all the slots. Even so, the competition is fierce; only 5 out of 30 recommended candidates will be accepted. My grades shouldn't be a problem; I've even had my papers published in a financial magazine. Physically, I have no worries. I've practiced martial arts with my father since I was little, and in university, I formed a mountaineering club with friends. I might not be able to climb Mount Everest, but climbing mountains at altitudes of 5,000 or 6,000 meters is no problem. I'm a little worried about the interview. It's not that I'm bad-looking—I'm 1.83 meters tall—and as for my appearance, well, I'd say I'm a handsome young man. My main concern is that someone might use their 50% interview score to push me out. Oh well, I'll leave it to fate.

After more than two months of registration, review, physical examination, exams, and administrative skills tests, 22 out of 30 people have been narrowed down, and the interview is tomorrow. All eight of us are quite outstanding, so I need to prepare well. My parents put aside their business and came to the provincial capital to be with me. My mother took me to get a Zhongshan-style suit made, saying that it makes young people look more mature and makes a good first impression. My father muttered and lectured me for a long time, telling me to go to bed early that night to be well-rested for the next day's challenge.

The interview location is in a new building in the provincial government compound. The eight of us stood there like idiots, waiting since 7 a.m. Passersby looked at us like we were animals in a zoo, with more stares directed at me. It made me feel uneasy. At 8:30 a.m., a woman in her thirties came out of the building, coldly calling us in with a somewhat reserved and arrogant tone. Several of my classmates were impatient. She was about 1.7 meters tall, with fair skin, and her hair and clothes were very stylish. My first impression of her was that she wasn't your average civil servant. As I entered, I opened the glass door and waited for the people behind me to come in before letting go. She walked past me with a slight smile. I was last in line, and watching the seven people ahead of me come out, some dejected, some happy, I felt a little uneasy. I asked them questions, but they didn't say much. I couldn't blame them; at this point, eliminating one meant increasing their chances of success. After all, this concerned their lifelong happiness. Working in the provincial government offered a much higher starting point than in a county town. Some people toil their whole lives just to become a deputy county head or something. In the provincial government, with good opportunities, it could happen in a few years. Who wouldn't want to stay?

I gently knocked on the door. "Come in," I said confidently, pushing the door open and sitting down. The woman was actually sitting in the middle of the three examiners. It seemed my initial judgment was correct. After asking a few questions outside my field, the woman asked me, "What should you do if your superior makes a wrong decision and instructs you to carry it out?"

"In a formal setting, you must carry it out at the time, but immediately find an appropriate opportunity to raise it with your superior, both to uphold their authority and to prevent problems from arising." "What's your view on money?" "

Desire is endless. Control yourself, rationally manage your legal income, be the master of money, not its slave..." After answering a few more questions, she gestured for me to leave.

In the hallway, I listened to the commotion inside; some argument was taking place. I could only vaguely hear, "I won't question your arrangements for others, but this one is essential. It's rare to see a young man dressed so conservatively these days. The trash I deliberately left behind when closing the door and in the hallway—his casual and unpretentious actions prove his good manners. As the most outstanding talent here, we can't exclude or eliminate him just because he's from out of town. We're selecting talent, not people based on residency!"

After the argument subsided, a middle-aged man in his forties opened the door and let us go back.

Back at the rented apartment, I reported the situation to my parents. They were very happy. My father used to be a government official, but because he lacked connections, he was ostracized and never promoted. Frustrated, he went into business, selling home appliances in our county. Although he made some money, he always carried a grudge. If I could stay and work in the provincial government, he would be very proud back home. "Once you're accepted, Dad will buy you two houses in the provincial capital—one for your wedding, and one for your mother and me to retire in. Don't be greedy for money when you become an official. Dad and Mom will earn money for you; just focus on your career. You're our only son, so you have to make your father proud!"

After receiving the notification, I finally took the first big step in my life!

I was assigned to the Property Management Office with a female classmate, and that woman named Shen Ping was actually the deputy director and also our office director.

Because the Property Rights Management Department is a powerful unit under the State-owned Assets Supervision and Administration Commission (SASAC), it studies and proposes opinions on reforming the management methods and systems for state-owned assets; it is responsible for the delineation, registration, transfer, disposal, and mediation of property rights disputes of state-owned assets of the enterprises under its supervision; it conducts budget management of the state-owned assets of the enterprises under its supervision and supervises the use of capital gains; it reviews changes in the capital of the enterprises under its supervision, equity transfers, and bond issuance plans; and it supervises and regulates state-owned property rights transactions. These are all important tasks of the SASAC. At only 37 years old, she's already in this position; she must have some connections. Sure enough. Shen Ping's husband is 12 years older than her; he used to be a high-ranking official in the provincial party committee and is now undergoing training at the Central Party School. Rumor has it he's going to become a minister in a central ministry.

Upon entering her office, I smelled a faint, feminine fragrance in the air. After briefly introducing the work to us, she told us to go to work. As we were leaving with reports and documents, she called me to stay. "Silly boy, what are you standing there for? Can't you sit down?"

she smiled slightly. I sat down awkwardly, clutching the documents, and another coquettish laugh escaped my lips. "Put your things down, aren't you tired? We'll be colleagues from now on, don't be so reserved."

I mustered my courage and put my things down, sitting on the sofa opposite me. I looked up and carefully examined the woman before me. Shen Ping was wearing a light gray suit, a slightly tight skirt that just past her knees, accentuating her rounded hips. Beneath the thin skirt, a very small purple thong was faintly visible, and the neckline of her top was slightly stretched open by her full breasts, revealing a purple bra and a deep cleavage. Young people's willpower is weak; I clearly felt my genitals hardening. Shen Ping sensed my burning gaze, and like a child caught doing something wrong, I immediately blushed. She blushed, crossed her legs, and subtly smoothed her hair behind her ear, saying, "You look a lot like one of my...brothers, so I took a liking to you the moment I saw you. I fought hard to get you here, so you'd better do your best. Young people should do more work; you'll have a bright future." "Thank you, Director. No, I should say thank you, Chief. I will do my job well; please don't worry."

To ease the awkward atmosphere, I said, "The director should only be twenty-seven or twenty-eight, only three or four years older than me. Saying I'm young makes you sound old." "I hired you because you seem so composed, but I didn't expect you to be so glib. I'm not that young," she teased. "Go on with your work, send the reports over as soon as possible."

Chapter 2 of the State

-owned Assets Supervision and Administration Commission's story: Because it was a newly established unit, all aspects of its work required exploration. Relying on the spirit of the central government's documents and combining them with local realities, we drafted regulations and management methods for the definition, registration, transfer, disposal, and dispute resolution of state-owned assets. Every day, my desk was piled high with documents, keeping me constantly busy. Except for a few days off during the Spring Festival, I hadn't had a single Sunday for over half a year. Meetings were held all day to formulate measures and systems. Occasionally, we'd have a meal together, and afterwards, everyone would go back to deal with the mountain of documents. Finally, the unit slowly got on track, and I felt much more relaxed.

My phone rang. It was a few of my close friends from university inviting me to dinner. It was the weekend, and although I still had a few tasks to do, they weren't urgent. I could work overtime on Saturday to finish them. When we arrived at the hotel, almost everyone was there. In the past six months, I'd only kept in touch by phone; we'd rarely met up. My college friends teased me, "Are you going to become an official? We can never find your footing; we've asked you out several times, and you always say you're busy."

Li Gang, the host, said with a sly grin. "Damn, do you think I'm like you, with a father who's the head of the provincial mobile company, able to get a deputy director position in the company's office without doing anything? We're just ordinary people; what are we supposed to do if we don't make a name for ourselves?" Hua Wu chimed in, "Have you found a girlfriend yet? We have lots of pretty nurses at our hospital; I can introduce you to one."

"Come on, if there are good ones, why would they be my type? You'd have her already," Li Gang, Hua Wu, Zou Jiazhi, and me. My best friends from college, our shared hobby—mountain climbing. Li Gang's father is the head of the provincial mobile company, Hua Wu's father is the deputy director of the provincial health department, and Zou Jiazhi's father is the captain of the provincial traffic police. Although they're well-off, I've never felt inferior. You have to pave your own path in life; what future can you have relying on your parents? Regarding staying in the provincial capital, I never asked them for help, but if I couldn't get into the State-owned Assets Supervision and Administration Commission, they would still help me.

I'm the oldest, so my sworn brother is naturally the boss. "Boss, I'm serious. How about I introduce you to a policewoman? You already have a house. Date for two years and then get married," A-Zhi said sincerely. "He can't let go of Wenqiu. Boss is a devoted lover." "By the way, what's Wenqiu doing now?"

"I saw her following her husband the other day, like a caged bird, looking very depressed." "Knowing that Boss is staying in the provincial capital, she probably regrets it too." Thoughts and resentment welled up in my heart. My girlfriend of three years in college, Wenqiu, broke up with me a year before graduation to stay in the provincial capital. She started dating the son of the director of the provincial tax bureau, got married before graduation, and is now working in a tax branch. The vows we made under the moonlit flowers have long been shattered by reality. During the breakup period, I was so depressed that I almost wanted to commit suicide. "It's all your fault! We brothers rarely get together, why did you bring her up? It upset the boss!" Seeing my bad mood, Li Gang blamed Hua Wu. "Hehe, it's nothing. Fathead Fish meant well."

After all, Wen Qiu's first time was with me. It's only right that she made that choice for her own future. I shook my head, forgetting the unpleasant thing. I happily drank with my brothers.

When I woke up the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. Last night, the brothers drank six jin of baijiu and two cases of beer. I, who can only drink a jin and a half of alcohol, was a little dizzy. I really didn't want to get up, but I couldn't fall asleep no matter how much I tossed and turned. It was indeed boring to be alone in the provincial capital. They were all like birds just released from their cages, dating all the time. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to be a third wheel. My career was just starting, and I didn't have the mood or time to look for a partner. I'd better go to work overtime. I

took the bus and swayed all the way to work. I reached into my pocket to take out my keys and pulled out a brooch. I wondered for a while before I remembered. Last night, Li Gang paid the bill and gave me two cartons of Zhonghua cigarettes. When I paid, the hotel gave me a brooch, which I probably put in the cigarette bag and then slipped into my pocket. Looking closely at the three purple flower brooches in my hand, I estimated they were worth around 1000 yuan. It seems yesterday's meal cost a little over 10,000 yuan. How many color TVs would my dad have to sell to earn that much? These monopolistic enterprises are fucking profiteering! A deputy director's signature is enough for two months of my salary. Sigh, if I went back to work in the county town, it would be half a year's salary!

Sighing, I walked into the office and finished my work, it was almost 11 pm. After tidying up the desk, I took a towel to the restroom to wash my face and heard the sound of water from the toilet coming from the women's restroom. I wondered who it was when Shen Ping came out, startled to see me. "Why aren't you home?"

"I had some enterprise asset appraisal projects approved and filed that I was worried you might need urgently. Anyway, I was bored by myself, so I got them done. By the way, what brings you here?"

"I need to finish my thesis for further studies. Lao Wang went to Beijing."

She answered somewhat incoherently. Seeing that her eyes were a little red, I didn't dare to say much more.

"Zhiyuan, come to my office and help me with my thesis." "Okay." When we got to her office, Shen Ping handed me a file folder. I pulled out the papers inside; the first page was her resume.

I glanced at it a few times. It turned out she was fourteen years older than me. Oh, it was her birthday today. I wondered why she didn't seem happy on her birthday, but instead looked so dejected. I wondered what was wrong with me.

After carefully reviewing her paper, I couldn't help but admire it. Her handwriting was beautiful, her writing smooth, and some of her viewpoints were both trendy and grounded in reality. "Great, it's really well written! Even I, a top student from the finance department, am inferior. Sister Shen, are you testing me? Asking for my feedback would be like showing off

my limited skills before an expert!" She was overjoyed by my compliments, her expression brightening considerably. "Stop being so sycophantic, help me revise it." She had made a few minor mistakes in her professional knowledge, and as I pointed them out to her, she sat beside me. The natural fragrance of a woman wafted over me. She placed her hands on my shoulders, leaned against my back, and reached out with her plump, white hands, asking, "Is this it? Underline it with your pen." As she spoke, I felt two soft mounds gently touching my back. Immediately, my mind raced, and my thoughts wandered. For nearly a year, work had extinguished any desire in me, but today, being so close to a beautiful woman, my pent-up desire ignited instantly. I deliberately grabbed her hand; it was small and soft, seemingly boneless, and felt very comfortable in my grasp. Shen Ping didn't pull her hand away, letting my hand guide her as she scribbled on the paper.

"That's all, just revise it," I said, then immediately regretted it. I'd spoken too much! Looking back, I saw her eyes were filled with confusion. Our eyes met, and suddenly her face turned as red as a ripe apple. She hurriedly pulled her hand back.

I said naturally, "Let's go eat." "...Okay." "The cafeteria closes early on Sundays, so there probably won't be any food left. How about we go out? I know a restaurant that serves good food, with a new Cantonese chef." We ate there last night, so let's have something fresh today. "No...okay..." she hesitated. "

I haven't repaid Sister Ping's favor for a long time! Give your little brother a chance." I really owed her a huge favor. If it weren't for her strong support when I got into the provincial government, I might still be wasting my youth in a small county. Not to mention the future prospects, the salary would be several times higher than in the county. I should give her some money! Anyway, I've saved tens of thousands of yuan from my salary, so spending a few thousand won't leave me strapped for cash.

I grabbed her small hand and pulled her outside. At the door, I deliberately didn't let go, and she hesitated before pulling away, then followed behind me with her head down. We hailed a taxi. "To the Carnival." I usually wear a Zhongshan suit or a jacket. Young people wearing slightly old-fashioned clothes are appreciated by elders in government offices, giving them a mature and steady impression. Today, since it's Saturday, I'm wearing a Nike tracksuit, perfectly showcasing my strong physique, making me look like a basketball player. Sitting in the back of the taxi, I could feel Shen Ping curiously observing me out of the corner of my eye.

Chapter 3 of the State-owned Assets Supervision and Administration Commission's Story:

Although it was the weekend, because it was a high-end hotel, it wasn't crowded. The leaders were on rest during the workday, and on their days off, they were basically spending time with their wives and children. The big hotel, which relied on public funds for dining and drinking, was surprisingly quiet. The head waiter greeted us, "Have you two made a reservation?" "No, are there any private rooms available?"

Shen Ping was, after all, a deputy director-level cadre, and it wouldn't be good if she ran into an acquaintance from the organization. "Our private rooms have a minimum charge." "I know, just the two of us, so we're having a small private room." "Please follow me." We entered the room on the sixth floor, and the waiter brought the menu. I ordered lobster sashimi, golden crab, steamed oysters, and two servings of abalone. Shen Ping seemed a little reluctant, telling me to order only two of each, choosing only the cheaper items. I concealed my drinking capacity at the company dinner, but I'd observed that she had a good capacity, probably a little less than me, but still around 8 liang (400ml). I didn't order red wine, but instead asked for a bottle of Wuliangye. After all the dishes were served, I asked the waiter to leave. Only the two of us remained in the room, and the atmosphere was a little awkward.

I took out the corsage I'd brought yesterday. "Director, this is a little gift from me, please don't laugh at me." She happily pinned the corsage to her chest. "It's just the two of us, don't call me 'Director,' just call me Sister Ping. This is a gift for some elegant lady, aren't you afraid someone will come after you for bringing it?"

"Look at you, who would respect a nobody like me? I remember it's Sister Ping's birthday today, I saw it at the mall yesterday and bought it, planning to put it in your office today. Who knew you'd come to work here too, what a coincidence!" She laughed happily. "You have such a sweet tongue, making me so happy. It seems like I'll have to do a disservice to your clever tongue if I don't choose you for the upcoming promotion." I was secretly pleased, but didn't show it. "Whether I get promoted or not doesn't matter to me, I just want to work with Sister Ping until I retire."

She smiled radiantly, and the atmosphere was harmoniously eased. "By the way, Zhiyuan. Do you have a girlfriend yet? Tell me, what kind do you want? I'll find you someone later."

"Me? My own conditions are average, but I have high standards. I just want to find a beautiful and dignified girlfriend like Sister Ping. Other conditions don't matter, even if she's older than me, it's fine." She blushed at my hint. "A woman like you is not worthy of our high achiever. You're just teasing me, you naughty girl." I boldly held her small hand. "A woman like Sister Ping is the most beautiful."

Her eyes began to look dazed. She didn't pull her hand away, but didn't say a word, her expression somewhat dazed. "Do you know why I have feelings for you?"

"...I don't know." "When I first saw you, I was startled. I thought you were my first boyfriend. You two look so alike." "That's easy. Sister Ping, just treat me as your boyfriend, right?"

I split a bottle of wine in half, raised my glass to Shen Ping and said, "Sister Ping, happy birthday!"

Shen Ping's eyes were a little red. “Sister Ping, I always just shake my head and forget about unpleasant things. Today is your birthday, so whatever's on your mind, throw it away and enjoy every day! I'm not a big drinker, so I'll drink half of this first.” “Thank you, Zhiyuan. I'm so happy to have you as my brother.”

After saying that, she tilted her head back and downed half a jin of liquor with tears in her eyes. I could only down my own in one gulp. When the waiter brought another bottle, he looked at us in surprise. We hadn't touched a single dish, and the bottle of liquor was already gone.

The two of us sipped slowly, the liquor only making our sorrows worse. Soon, Shen Ping was a little drunk and started talking more.

I poured her more liquor while listening to her complaints. “Do you know? That bastard Wang Jibei. He ruined my whole life…”

It turned out that her husband had been an official in the provincial discipline inspection commission. When he was investigating a case in the region, Shen Ping’s father, Shen Nanpeng, made a small mistake that Wang Jibei seized upon and exaggerated. Shen Ping was forced to marry him in exchange for her father’s freedom.

Wang’s first wife had passed away, and Shen Ping and he were in their second marriage. Wang has a daughter with his ex-wife, who isn't close to Shen Ping and is sent to her grandmother's house for school. Their marriage was already strained, and Wang's successful career in recent years has exacerbated the situation, leading to him frequently staying out all night. Last night, when Wang came home, she smelled women's perfume on him, and they argued. This morning, Wang simply didn't show up. He said he went to inspect work down below, but who knows which woman he was with.

Shen Ping drank more and more, becoming increasingly reckless, blurting out whatever came to mind. "He's out there fooling around with those wild women, and when he comes back, he torments me. He pinches and hits me when he can't handle himself. He gave me a promotion to deputy director level and flaunted it in front of my family. I don't need power; I need family. Waaah… why is my life so miserable?" I sat down beside her to comfort her, wiping her tears with a wet wipe. Shen Ping suddenly threw herself into my arms and burst into tears. I could only hold her sobbing shoulders and stroke her back. Her body, exuding a feminine fragrance, writhed in my arms. I restrained my own desire and helped her to the bathroom to wash up. Her long, black hair, which had been tied up, fell down, and her eyes were red. It seemed that going out was not a good idea. I called the waiter over and asked her to book a standard room.

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