My Story with SIS Beauty

(I) My Unromantic Story "

Mènfā" generally refers to someone who appears calm and reserved on the outside, but is actually thoughtful and insightful—someone who seems extremely reserved on the surface but is passionate at heart. Mènfā is a roundabout performance, elevated to a higher level through its subtlety; it's a kind of feigned seriousness and understated audacity. It lies dormant within, dormant, accumulating, reserved, hesitant to reveal itself, and only awakens when the time is right, then shocks the world.

Yes, I am a mènfā man. I prefer to savor the beauty of things in private rather than share them, believing that doing so diminishes the lasting appeal, making the beauty fade over time. Like a fine wine, the aroma before opening can be preserved for a long time, but once opened, although the fragrance fills the room, it eventually becomes bland and slowly dissipates. To put it simply, I'm not someone who's very willing to share, especially things that are a bit private, until that day…

“Is it you? Is it you? Is Pingting talking about you?” My friend McDull rushed into my office, his eyes shining—with surprise, envy, and jealousy.

“What did Pingting say?” I was confused by what McDull said, and I felt a little uneasy.

“When Pingting came over last time, did you two do something?”

Although it wasn't exactly a bolt from the blue, it was still a bit of a shock to me. “What did we do? What are you talking about?”

“Go to the Pear Blossom Forum and look for a post with a lot of information.” The Pear Blossom Forum was a code word between McDull and me, meaning sis. McDull was also the moderator of the joke section. Once, he joked with me that there were lots of good girls here, and coincidentally, there was a news report about Ewha Womans University in South Korea on TV. I replied to him, “There are lots of good girls there too!” Later, we used the Pear Blossom Forum as a code word, meaning sis.

After hearing this, I quickly pushed McDull out of the office and immediately logged into SIS to search…

Fate is sometimes very magical, often accompanied by drama. Many people always hope that at some crossroads, someone they've missed in life will appear leisurely, walking in the same rhythm. But people remind themselves to be mature; perhaps the person they meet around the corner won't be the one they're hoping for, but a stranger, a homeless person. The world is so big; such coincidences are rare. I was on the same forum as Pingting, who doesn't understand romance (hereafter referred to as Romance), but I never knew it until this way, to find out if this was the magic of fate. Or perhaps this is the bondage mentioned in *Koizora*.

I don't understand why Romantic would post our story on a forum, just like I didn't understand why one of my beautiful young female colleagues would describe in such detail how she performed oral sex on her ex-boyfriend. The details were so meticulous: how she gently stroked his testicles, then pulled down his foreskin to expose the glans, licked the urethral opening a few times with her tongue, then held it in her mouth, stirring the glans with her tongue, before suddenly taking it all the way in, gently shaking it a few times, and then slowly releasing it. After repeating this several times, she gently touched his glans with her nipples, then used the penis to tease her breasts. The details were outrageously detailed. Perhaps she could relive that pleasure by sharing her experience and reconstruct the entire process in the way that excites her most, refining it to her most satisfying state. In other words, she incorporated the most arousing elements into the story to fully stimulate her G-spot. This should be considered a kind of refinement, just like Romantic's post, "I don't understand romance, this post is packed with information!!!" As corrected in the article, the facts are not entirely the same as her description. This is why I am posting this. The

post says that she wouldn't drive home after drinking, but in reality, she didn't drive; she took the high-speed train. Perhaps she was deliberately misleading us. She came to Shenzhen from Guangzhou, and my wife and I went to pick her up. She arrived around 7:30 PM. I had never met her before, so when she called my wife's name, I was captivated by her beauty. She had a beautiful figure, fair and delicate skin, and a particularly cute and playful small mouth. She truly had eyebrows like emerald feathers, skin like white snow, a waist like a bound ribbon, and teeth like pearls.

The "Goddess of the Mountain" records that King Huai of Chu dreamed of the Goddess of Wushan while touring the pavilions of Yunmengze. I think the goddess in King Huai's dream must have been shyly approaching in a white veil, coming towards him in the wind. The romance that moment, like a goddess crashing into my heart, made me momentarily lose my composure.

"What's wrong? My best friend's mesmerized!" My wife's words pulled me out of my reverie. Romance, too, lowered her head and giggled, her fair skin and beautiful collarbone captivating. She glanced at me intently, and in that one look, the entire hall fell silent, the lights shimmering.

My wife's words lessened the distance between us, adding a touch of warmth. We chatted and laughed all the way home.

The Chinese say that joy brings happiness, and seeing a good friend was naturally a joyous occasion. My wife was very happy and drank quite a bit at dinner. For men, beauty is food for the eyes, and stunning women can certainly accompany wine. I also drank quite a bit, but not to the point of being drunk. A stunningly beautiful woman can stimulate a man's hormones, causing his alcohol tolerance to increase rapidly. It could be said that a woman's beauty is directly proportional to a man's alcohol tolerance.

After Romantic helped my wife into bed, I went back to the guest room to shower and sleep. I kept thinking about the scene in the TV series "Struggle" where Lu Tao and Xia Lin passionately kissed on their second meeting. I longed for a love like that—so intense, so passionate, so extraordinary. This desire amplified step by step. Humans are complex; a person's heart has many rooms, each inhabited by different women. Some rooms are large, some small, some sunny, some hidden deep underground.

But people have good and evil; they can arrange the rooms correctly to avoid chaos. However, this desire amplified infinitely, causing the rooms to shift. The room in my heart belonging to Romantic expanded infinitely, filled with birdsong and fragrant flowers.

Romantic, Romantic… that name filled my mind. Even just seeing her body would be enough. With this self-deceptive thought, I gently pushed open the guest room door…

Romantic was lying on the bed wearing my wife's silk camisole nightgown, her body faintly emitting an alluring scent of perfume. Her eyes were slightly closed, her long, curled, dark eyelashes making her even more charming and lovely. Her bright red, alluring lips were slightly pouting, as if begging for a kiss. The thin straps of her nightgown were loose on her shoulders, revealing the upper part of her full breasts. The pointed peaks and full nipples were even more sexy and seductive under the soft nightgown...

I gently lifted the hem of the romantic nightgown, and between her legs, what was covered by her almost transparent panties, her full vulva pressed tightly against the white panties, the tender flesh clearly visible. Through the panties, I could even see that large clitoris with a rounded, hill-like protrusion. Ah, what a captivating place, how many men have longed for it.

I reached out and gently caressed that wonderful place, the unique softness and moisture spreading from my palm throughout my body. This unique feeling made me completely abandon my previous self-deception. I wanted to kiss her vulva, I wanted to violently enter her vulva, at that moment, I had only this thought.

I gently pulled down Romantic's panties, but her rounded buttocks obstructed them. I lightly tickled her buttocks with my fingers, and Romantic, stimulated, shifted her body slightly, allowing me to pull the panties down easily. There, I saw her full, glistening vulva, two tender pink labia nestled between her plump buttocks and jade-like thighs, utterly captivating. Gently parting the labia, her clitoris was revealed. A beauty like jade, a jade beauty—this was the most beautiful jade, crystal clear and exuding a seductive scent, a scent that could be the best aphrodisiac for a man. I leaned down and gently kissed her translucent clitoris, occasionally licking it with my tongue. After only a few touches, her clitoris became noticeably engorged, radiating a seductive glow.

"Mmm…mmm…" Romantic moaned involuntarily in her dream, stimulated.

Hearing Romantic's moans was like a battle cry; every cell in my body stirred with excitement. I spread her legs apart, making her vulva more clearly visible. Her vulva was slightly open from the previous stimulation, and a little bit of vaginal fluid was seeping out. This aroused me, and I licked between her plump labia, my hands embracing her full, round buttocks.

Perhaps it was the intense, tingling sensation that made her body hot and constantly writhing. Her writhing intensified the friction between my lips and her vulva, which was brought up and down to my mouth. This was the body's most honest response.

Her vulva was already flowing like a babbling brook. I couldn't resist any longer. I quickly pulled down my pants, bent her legs, and straddled her. I braced myself against the bed and aimed my hard, long penis at her beautiful, juicy honeypot, gently, very gently, thrusting. The two soft labia of her plump vulva, which I had just kissed, enveloped my glans like two large clam shells. I thrust gently, her already stimulated vulva warm and moist. It went all the way in, then I pulled out and thrust back in, repeating this gentle thrusting motion repeatedly…

After a few thrusts, her romantic moans intensified from "mmm" to "uh…uh…uh…". Her beautiful hair swayed with my thrusts, and her breasts bounced in waves, a beautiful and stimulating sight.

After a few more thrusts, Romance awoke from the intense pleasure of being penetrated and saw that it was me thrusting. She was clearly startled and opened her mouth to scream, but closed it halfway and remained silent. I thrust my penis all the way in and leaned down to look at her. Our noses were only centimeters apart. I looked at her, determined to remember her face. Such a beautiful and captivating woman was now limp and powerless beneath me, waiting for me to lead her into a paradise of spirit and desire. After

two seconds, or perhaps longer, we gazed at each other. Perhaps sensing my overwhelming love, or perhaps conquered by the honest pleasure of her body, she wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered, "Fuck me, I want it, fuck me hard." Romance was the kind of woman who was exceptionally pure. To hear such vulgar words from such a pure woman was an immense thrill. I think no man could resist her allure.

I lowered my mouth and sucked on her lips, our heads twisting wildly, as if trying to swallow each other whole. In that moment, I understood that romance wasn't just about lust; she also had a place for me in her heart. A woman doesn't love you simply because of gratitude, but if you occupy a place in her heart, that love can be amplified by gratitude.

I held Romantic's shoulders with one hand and reached down to her buttocks with the other, forcefully thrusting her towards me with faster and deeper strokes.

Romantic's vagina continuously flowed with love juice, desperately responding to my onslaught, clenching her teeth to suppress any cries.

Less than two minutes later, I heard my wife's voice calling me from outside. I looked at Romantic with guilt, still frantically thrusting. Romantic heard me too, her eyes smiling as she looked at me, seemingly teasing me about what to do, or perhaps reassuring me that it was okay. Then she gently kissed my forehead and pushed me away from her. I could only whisper "I'm sorry" and leave.

My wife has a peculiar fetish: she likes to have sex with me when she's drunk. She often says, "Making love while drunk, half-asleep, is more atmospheric." I often tease her, telling her not to get drunk and let someone else sleep with her, so she's developed the habit of only having sex with me after she's slightly sober and her mind has cleared up. Sure enough, as soon as I entered the bedroom, she grabbed me, quickly stripped off the clothes I'd just put on

, and started making love to me wildly. Perhaps this atmosphere really does arouse her G-spot, because her moans grew louder and louder in no time. She came in a little while later. My wife wasn't fully sober to begin with, and since she was already sexually satisfied, she went back to sleep with a sweet, satisfied smile, often leaving me, still unsatisfied, to continue trying to release myself. But tonight was different. I still had a stunning beauty to enjoy, so I patted my wife's shoulder and said, "You go to sleep, my stomach's a little upset, I need to go to the bathroom." My wife mumbled an "Mmm" in a daze.

I turned to go back into the guest room, but then I thought my wife might not be asleep, and besides, after being with my wife and me, I felt I was about to lose control. So I went back and lay down on the sofa

to rest. Just as I lay down, I heard the guest room door open. I knew it was Romantic coming out, but I didn't know what she would do after so long. Would she be done with her lust and sleep with my wife, or would she be rekindled in her desire and want

to rekindle our past relationship? So I pretended to be drunk and asleep on the sofa. Romantic approached me quietly, gently drawing circles on my chest with her fingers, then teasing my nipples. Her fingers then moved downwards, stopping at my penis and gently stroking it.

"You little vixen, you're going to kill me," I said softly, already certain she wanted to rekindle our relationship. I opened my eyes and saw her. Romantic, completely naked, was looking at me with a knowing smile, her tongue playfully licking her lips. Seeing me open my eyes, she pouted and blew a breath at me, "Don't you want to? Why are you still so hard? You haven't ejaculated yet." Here we go again. The word "ejaculate" coming from her mouth completely captivated me.

I picked her up, wrapped her legs around my waist, and then, holding her buttocks, I aimed my vulva at my penis and slammed it down. Her vulva was scalding hot, and her juices splashed everywhere. With this slam, her body leaned forward, her soft breasts pressed against my chest. Then, she skillfully wrapped her arms around my neck, smiling triumphantly.

And so, romance clung to me as I moved her up and down into the guest room. I threw her onto the edge of the bed, and she spread her legs wide, parting her labia with her hands to reveal her pink, glistening clitoris. Her vaginal opening was already rapidly opening and closing, calling out loudly. I stood under the bed and inserted my penis into that alluring crevice, thrusting rapidly. Perhaps the clever romance knew my erogenous zones.

"Do you like my pussy?"

"Is my pussy pretty?"

"Is my pussy tender?"

"You're not going to fuck my pussy raw, are you?"

"Are you going to fuck my pussy raw?"

"Fuck me, fuck me, it's all yours, fuck me raw!"

"I want to fuck you, I want to fuck you too!" Romantic finished speaking and pulled me down onto the bed, flipped over and sat on me, thrusting rapidly up and down, her pair of big white breasts bouncing up and down. Occasionally, they would sway from side to side as she twisted. Those white breasts were whiter than snow, more beautiful than flowers. At that moment, the moon was bright and the clouds were light outside the window, and a gentle breeze was blowing.

Soon, Romantic, like a wild horse galloping, was covered in fragrant sweat, with beads of sweat sliding from her sexy collarbone into her cloud-like cleavage. I held her tenderly, "Want to try from behind? Let me do it."

Romantic obediently lay face down on the bed, and I got off so she was facing away from me. Romantic had a perfect buttock shape, an M-shaped bottom that was very firm and round. It was hard to imagine that Romantic, with such a slender waist, could also have such alluring curves; perhaps it was related to her dance training. Her

most alluring cleft was already covered in sap. When I inserted my penis into that cleft, Romantic couldn't help but groan, "Finally, it's in again."

I held Romantic's buttocks with both hands and quickly thrust back and forth. I knew I should be about to ejaculate, so I deliberately deepened my breathing. Women are naturally sensitive; she might be brought to the peak of spiritual and sexual climax by your wolfish, aggressive gaze or your violent ravaging. And basically, a man's heavy breathing has an effect on all women.

Romance clearly felt my breathing become heavier and more labored. She rolled over, perhaps wanting me to reach my climax while looking at her perfect face. After only a few thrusts, Romance's body began to tremble. Her whole body convulsed and spasmed uncontrollably. With each powerful thrust, my glans slammed against her uterine wall, the intense pleasure causing her to gasp repeatedly, letting out wanton moans from deep within her throat. "Fuck me...fuck me...fuck me...fuck me to death...fuck me to death...fuck me to death!"

Her hips arched upwards, actively welcoming my thrusts. My movements became larger and faster, longer and deeper, as if I wanted to stuff my entire lower body into her vagina. That unbearable pleasure drove me increasingly frenzied, thrusting in and out of Romance's vagina, each time penetrating deep into her core. I felt the tender flesh of her vaginal walls contract sharply, sucking my penis even tighter, her labia constantly flipping in and out with each thrust.

The hot, sticky vaginal fluid gushed forth from Romantic's vagina, overflowing and lubricating my hard penis. The heat made my glans swell even more, and each withdrawal brought out a gush of hot, sticky fluid; each insertion squeezed out more fluid, squirting and overflowing. I realized that our passionate love song was about to reach its climax. I growled, holding Romantic's buttocks tighter, thrusting deeper and harder.

My hard penis was tightly sucked by Romantic's vagina, and in an instant, Romantic's body convulsed as if electrocuted. Her white, lotus-like arms clung tightly to my sweaty back, her thighs wrapped tightly around my waist. "Ah..." After a cry, Romantic's vagina began to contract more violently than ever before, tightening and loosening repeatedly, as if trying to break my penis and swallow it forever...

At that moment, I had no time to care about anything else. I held my breath, straightened my back, and concentrated all my strength in my penis. Each thrust reached deep into her cervix, and with the contraction of my scrotum and the swelling of my glans, spurt after spurt of my semen shot out, like arrows aimed directly at Romantic's womb, a cathartic release...

As the storm subsided, Romantic was still panting. I gently kissed her lips, collarbone, and breasts. Romantic held me, and we held each other quietly for a while. Then Romantic said she was going to take a shower. Before leaving, she paused at the door and said, "I'll make an excuse to leave tomorrow. Forget about me." These words extinguished all my joy and passion. It turned out I was just a new target for her one-night stand, nothing more.

The next day, Romantic indeed left without a word. I tried to find her many times afterward, but she kept avoiding me. Originally, I should have just treated it as a fleeting dream, but I couldn't let it go. She left so freely, what was that—a wave of her sleeve, leaving without a trace?

(II) The second story I had to tell—Yanran's story

For a long time after the romantic wave of her sleeve, leaving without a trace, I couldn't cheer up. At that time, what I cared about was that such a beautiful and elfin woman was actually so despicable. Selfishly, I had completely forgotten that I was even more despicable in imposing those things on romance. When people are under the control of negative emotions, they will try to find something to change or vent themselves. Some eat, some play games, some go on trips... and I took on the business trip that my colleague disliked.

That evening, I was taking a walk along the river path on the edge of the small town with a tired body. "Girl, it'll be ready here soon. I'll be back the day after tomorrow. Be good, take a bath at home and wait for me." I had just hung up the phone when someone patted my shoulder.

"Why do you have the same hairstyle as A-Feng, and wear the same clothes as him?" I turned around and saw a girl with long, beautiful legs staring at me with wide eyes. The girl's cheeks were slightly flushed, and she seemed very nervous; I could even see that the tips of her ears were flushed and red.

I was stunned for a moment. Although, as a seasoned handsome guy, this wasn't entirely self-praise, to borrow my wife's words, "You have a quiet and gentle temperament, a touch of refinement that makes people feel you're at least not too bad." I've been approached by women before, but the slight redness on the tips of this slightly chubby girl's ears and her clear eyes naturally prevented me from thinking in those ways, as if I couldn't bear to taint that purity.

"I'm sorry, I mistook you for someone else. I couldn't help thinking about him." Seeing my bewildered expression, the girl's tone became a little hurried, and her face turned even redder.

It was unbelievable that someone would speak in such a contradictory tone. Perhaps it was the phrase "couldn't help thinking about him" that amused me so much that I couldn't help but laugh out loud. I think my expression at that moment must have been quite amusing.

The girl saw me laugh and exclaimed, "Ah!" before crouching down, clutching her head. "So embarrassing, so incredibly embarrassing!"

"Ha, it's my fault. I shouldn't have gotten that hairstyle, and I shouldn't have worn that outfit." The girl's naive charm made me want to tease her.

"Really!" The girl looked up, blinking her eyes.

"Okay, it's true," I said, defeated by her. "Get up, or people will think I'm bullying you."

The girl looked at me suspiciously, and after I nodded to confirm, she stood up. "Then I forgive you for embarrassing me."

"Okay, thank you for your forgiveness," I said, sitting down on a stone bench by the roadside. The girl's interruption seemed to wash away the physical and mental exhaustion from dealing with a difficult client, making the breeze even more pleasant.

"Yanran, let's get to know each other again," the girl said, sitting down on the other side of the bench.

In Song Yu's "The Rhapsody of Deng Tu Zi's Lust" from the Warring States period, it says, "A charming smile bewitched Yangcheng and captivated Xiachai." "Yanran" is a beautiful word, evoking images of a charming smile, a myriad of allurees, from understated elegance to tender affection. It's a word that can only be truly appreciated through experience.

In the TV series "A Step into the Past," Ji Yanran is multi-talented, proud, intelligent, brave, decisive, and stunningly beautiful. Ji Yanran is beautiful, so beautiful that only Qin Qing could rival her in the entire Warring States period. While Qin Qing was a real historical figure, Ji Yanran was created by the author Huang, reflecting his aspirations for all things beautiful.

Using such a beautiful word as a name is not something everyone can carry off. At least I feel that the girl named Yanran in front of me cannot, although she is also very pretty and cute, with charming dimples when she smiles, and a slightly neurotic personality.

I told her my name and handed her my business card from my pocket. "Actually, I've been following you for a while. You look a lot like A-Feng, even the same hairstyle and the same clothes..."

Yanran's story was a bit cliché, all the same. She and A-Feng were college classmates, a couple who, after entering the workforce, succumbed to the temptations of money, power, and materialism. A-Feng chose a richer girl who could offer him more opportunities. Heartbroken, Yanran went out to clear her head and unexpectedly ran into me by the river. Seeing how much my background resembled A-Feng's, she unconsciously followed me, leading to the events described above.

"So you still haven't forgotten A-Feng, you still haven't moved on," I said softly, patting Yanran's back gently. After a long conversation, I could sense that Yanran was slowly letting her guard down in front of a stranger like me, revealing a more delicate and vulnerable side, making her seem pitiful. Having been in the workforce for a few years, I've also witnessed many pure beauties shatter in the face of harsh reality, ultimately turning into a wisp of smoke and disappearing with the wind. People say this is reality; after experiencing setbacks, humiliation, and bullying at every turn, how many can truly hold onto the purity and beauty in their hearts? Yet, who doesn't still yearn to possess that purity and beauty?

"Probably, so I thought I'd go out for a walk, maybe I'll meet someone who can make me forget him," Yanran said with a touch of sadness. "I can't, haha, you've got the wrong target, I have my girl!" I hoped Yanran would stop being sad and joked on purpose.

"You love your wife very much, so have you ever betrayed her?" Yanran is really oblivious; one moment she was sad, the next her gossipy nature was on full display.

"Hmm, why do you ask that?" A romantic thought crossed my mind, but my tone was a little dry.

"Haha, it seems I really have. Then why can't it be me? Am I not pretty?" This little girl, Yanran, seems really oblivious and knows how to court disaster.

"Okay, pretty, you're the prettiest. Come on, let me treat you to dinner. If you still want to seduce me after dinner, then we'll talk." I deliberately emphasized the word "seduce."

"Hehe, okay, I'll eat you out of house and home. Chatting with you makes me so much happier; I've been feeling down these past few days."

When we got back to the hotel, I found out that Yanran and I were staying at the same hotel. There are only a few decent hotels in this small town, so it wasn't surprising that we bumped into each other. When ordering food, Yanran actually told me not to order too much. We ordered a bottle of red wine and chatted about everything under the sun while we ate. We only drank half of it by the time we finished the meal. After I took Yanran to her room, I got up and told her, "Don't think about it. Go to sleep early. Go back happily tomorrow. It would be a misfortune for him if such a beautiful and lovely Yanran didn't get married." I paused and then said with a "hey," and continued, "Starting tomorrow, be a happy person, feed the horses, chop wood, and travel the world." At the time, I didn't really think about the last few sentences.

"Okay, give me that half-bottle of red wine. I'll have some before bed," Yanran said casually.

Back in my room, I didn't plan to go anywhere. I wasn't familiar with the new place, so after watching TV for a while and taking a shower, I lay in bed thinking about Yanran's "can't help thinking about him," and I couldn't help but laugh. This girl was really adorable.

A loud knock sounded at the door. I opened it to find Yanran, holding the red wine, her face slightly flushed, and her hair smelling of shampoo.

Yanran sat on the sofa by the bed, looking at me nervously. "I want to try another man, maybe then..."

This reckless little girl's words were hard to decipher—I didn't know whether to laugh or be angry, but Yanran's naivety and cuteness made me want to pity her. Besides, Yanran was so beautiful, with long, shapely legs, slender eyebrows, captivating eyes, a delicate nose, slightly flushed cheeks, luscious lips, and a fair, snow-white face as clear as jade, her skin as smooth as jade. How many men wouldn't feel affection for her?

I gently carried Yanran to the bed. Her face was flushed crimson, her eyes tightly closed, her mouth shut, and her body stiff.

I couldn't bear to enter her in this tense state. I quietly leaned over and looked at her. This girl was too naive. She still loved the lover who had abandoned her. She was trying hard to move on, to move on from that relationship that had cost her everything but ultimately ended in nothing. Her blatant, even clumsy, seduction only made her innocence and effort all the more heartbreaking.

She was different from Romance. Romance had conveyed all her information to me in that one glance in the waiting room, which was why I could possess her so recklessly—because I knew she wouldn't refuse me, and that was enough.

At this moment, I should give Yanran time. No, I'm not a Casanova, but I'm not just a breeding boar who only knows how to mate. Even though I've become somewhat worldly and sophisticated, I still hold onto a beautiful and pure heart, and Yanran's innocence perfectly matches that ideal.

In the ambiguous, quiet atmosphere, Yanran slowly opened her eyes, looking at me. The tension in her eyes gradually subsided. She slowly reached out and removed my bathrobe, lifting her head to kiss my chest. Her delicate tongue gently licked my chest from bottom to top, again and again. Her technique was a little clumsy.

"Close your eyes, let me love you," I whispered. Yanran obediently closed her eyes, softly leaning into my arms. I licked Yanran's earlobe while gently rubbing my chin against the side of her neck. Under my teasing, Yanran let out a soft moan.

I pulled open Yanran's bathrobe, revealing her full, beautiful breasts. They were not only large, but also beautifully shaped. Her breasts were full, firm, and perfectly proportioned; even without a bra, a deep cleavage was visible. Perfect breasts are a masterpiece of nature.

I grasped one breast in each hand and began to knead them. The soft, delicate sensation sent shivers down my spine. Yanran closed her eyes, enjoying my caresses. She bit her lower lip tightly, trying to suppress the wanton moans escaping her lips.

One hand climbed up her breast, teasing her sensitive nipples, while the other moved away from her chest, reaching down to pull aside her tiny thong and stimulate her vulva. Two fingers slipped inside, stirring. Yanran seemed unable to withstand the stimulation and cried out. While continuing to caress her clitoris, I used my other hand to pull down my underwear, revealing my already hard penis, which I rubbed against her wet labia.

"Mmm...it's so itchy...ah..." Yanran raised her pert buttocks high, rubbing them together, trying to penetrate me quickly.

I thrust downwards forcefully, and my thick penis easily pierced into her lubricated honey hole. The moment my penis entered her vagina, we both let out a satisfied groan.

"Ah...you...you're in...ah..."

"Mmm...your vagina is so tight...it feels so good..."

"Ah...you're going in so deep...mmm...ah...slower...ah...slower...oh...ah...mmm..."

My thick penis plunged deep into her vagina again and again, each thrust hitting the very core of her flower, the intense pleasure making Yanran's body tremble as if she had been electrocuted.

Yanran couldn't help but start moaning loudly, clinging tightly to my neck and burying her face between her ample breasts, desperately thrusting upwards to meet my movements. The violent colliding of our bodies produced a series of "slap slap" and "splashing" sounds. Under my wild thrusting, Yanran quickly curled into a ball, trembling, her hands gripping my back tightly as she screamed. Her vagina contracted and spasmed in waves; Yanran reached her first orgasm of the night.

After the orgasm, Yanran's tender vagina became even more sensitive. I continued thrusting forcefully, each impact plunging deep into her core, making Yanran's lower body feel like a flood, streams of heat pouring onto my glans. Yanran twisted her hips wildly, making my penis rub even more intensely deep inside her.

...

With the intense thrusting, under Yanran's wanton moans and wanton writhing, I felt my lower body growing increasingly engorged, unable to hold back my ejaculation.

"Ah...I can't take it anymore...I'm going to cum..."

"Ah...cum inside me...oh...oh...ah...ahhh..."

"Ah...I...I'll...cum all of it...into you..."

"Ah...oh...ah...it's so hot...so good...oh...you've cummed so much...ah...and...ah...ahhh..."

Stimulated by my scalding semen, Yanran felt as if a dam had suddenly been opened in her lower abdomen. Her body arched uncontrollably and began to spasm violently. A surge of warm fluid gushed out from her lower body...The copious amount of vaginal fluid made a mess of our lower bodies. Yanran had squirted from my penetration, and the cloudy white fluid kept flowing down from her honey hole, staining the inside of her thighs.

Yanran had almost fainted from my penetration, holding me and panting heavily, seemingly without the strength to speak or think. On the disheveled, crumpled bed, I held her and drifted off to sleep…

In my hazy state, I seemed to hear a woman crying. I opened my eyes and found Yanran, wrapped in a bathrobe, curled up on the sofa, sobbing. I quickly got up and hugged her. “What’s wrong?” At that moment, my emotions were also complicated; I didn’t know how to comfort her, so I just held her tightly and said, “Don’t cry!”

“Um, I won’t cry, I won’t cry,” Yanran hugged me back. Although she said she wouldn’t cry, tears kept streaming down her face. This innocent girl was perhaps using her self-indulgence to mourn her lost, poetic, and innocent love. After tonight, she would no longer be innocent, no longer able to love someone unconditionally. This was the cruel lesson reality had taught her, and this was her letting go, sorrowful, yet she could only grow up. At this moment, I asked myself, did I still think she couldn’t handle the beautiful word “Yanran”? Her gentle smile was the most precious thing in the world, wasn’t it? I only wish she could smile so often! Alas!

I held Yanran tightly.

That night,

I was alone

, cherishing the beautiful woman in my arms

(Part 3) A woman named Qing'er.

For any normal man, a woman is the best medicine, especially another man's woman. From an animalistic perspective, this is for the continuation of the species; every male (most) is seeking and creating opportunities for mating. This has almost nothing to do with morality.

Since returning from my business trip, the gloom of that abrupt departure from our romance has vanished. Undeniably, Yanran is a stunning woman; her slender figure possesses the delicate grace and swaying beauty of a woman from Jiangnan. My face beams with joy, and I occasionally chuckle at the memory of Yanran's charming naiveté. So much so that my employees are happy to work overtime (in fact, at this Taiwanese-owned factory, workers are more willing to work overtime for much higher wages).

McDull, seemingly unable to bear seeing me happy, jumps out, "Don't say I'm ruining your dream of winning five million; your classmate is here."

"Damn it, what are you doing in my production department, working in sales? Besides, how can I, a production manager, possibly be near her?"

"You can nag me all you want, but what if I deliberately shorten the deadline? Wouldn't you be upset too? And what can you do if the boss gives you a task?"

"Fuck it, whatever! What are you all doing here? I'm just being pathetic. Why am I so pathetic? Why do I have to go to meet clients with you?"

"Haha, you know, that auntie is such a strong and beautiful woman, we've been trying to negotiate for so long without success, and then you just walk into the meeting room and... hahaha... ugh!" McDull's lewd laughter scared me back with my fierce glare. We could tease each other all the time normally, but right now, he knew I was in a bad mood and didn't dare offend me.

To be honest, Qing'er is a great beauty, with jet-black hair, fair skin, and a round, smooth figure. She's the auntie McDull mentioned above. She was my classmate in junior high, we sat next to each other, and she was a year older than me. Because I was taller than most children, my family sent me to school very early. Frankly, I don't remember much about her from junior high, only that I used to play around all the time and sometimes I'd ask her to tidy up my books, clothes, balls, and other things. I should say that Qing'er liked me back then.

Speaking of which, I have to complain about our education system. China's Marriage Law stipulates that the legal marriage age is no earlier than 22 for men and no earlier than 20 for women. In other words, girls mature two years earlier than boys, but their school starting age is the same. No wonder girls are generally better at studying when they are young, while boys tend to do better as they get older.

I often wickedly speculate that it might be because boys have nocturnal emissions at night, while girls have them day and night, a few days every month. Of course, the most important reason is that this makes it easy to create unrequited love; you are in love, but I am oblivious; I am so close to you, yet we are worlds apart.

When I was in the second year of junior high school, I moved to the provincial capital with my family, and I never saw Qing'er again. I only occasionally heard that this girl was inquiring about me. It wasn't until my freshman year of college that Qing'er finally contacted me after many twists and turns. After a few phone calls, Qing'er came to the provincial capital from out of town to see me. Qing'er, who was a year older than me, wore light makeup and looked particularly mature and charming, with her breasts so developed that they seemed about to burst out of her clothes. Everything unfolded so naturally. Shortly after meeting, we had dinner, which Qing'er paid for (I don't know why I'm specifically mentioning this). After dinner, we went to Qing'er's hotel room to chat. Just as every girl clearly remembers the moment her hymen was broken, boys also clearly remember their virginity-ending ceremony, no matter how many women they've been with since.

After chatting in the room for a while, the conversation gradually became quiet, heated, and ambiguous. I remember suddenly telling Qing'er that I wanted to see her breasts, assuring her I only wanted to look. Surveys have shown that over 80% of boys have used this excuse, the only difference being that some want to see breasts while others want to see genitals.

Many people would laugh at this clumsy attempt at manipulation, but it's not necessarily manipulation. The curiosity of teenage boys about the opposite sex's body is intense, even stronger than just strong. It's just that boys overestimate their self-control; that desire for sex can change the world, it's almost like giving me a baseball and I could hit it into space.

When Qing'er unhooked her bra, revealing her round, large, white, smooth, and soft breasts that exuded a faint woman's fragrance, my hands were drawn to them as if by a powerful magnet, caressing, scratching, and kneading them.

Her breasts changed shape under my kneading, and my mouth moved closer, gently kissing and licking her nipples—all my movements clumsy yet almost instinctively skilled.

"Mmm...mmm..." Qing'er's moans came, suppressed and intense. She raised her legs and rubbed them against my waist, her hands gripping my head tightly, kneading it.

I eagerly moved my hands down to pull down Qing'er's skirt. Qing'er, terrified, desperately tried to stop me. Unable to fulfill my desire, I ran one hand over her waist, supporting her back, while the other reached for her trembling, white breasts. My lips met her cherry-like mouth, and Qing'er turned her head from side to side to meet my kiss, her delicate tongue pushing aside my teeth to explore and suck on mine.

The temperature in the room rose rapidly. When Qing'er wrapped her arms around my back, I tentatively reached out to caress her buttocks to pull down her skirt. At this moment, Qing'er had opened her heart, or perhaps it was the intensity of her emotions that made her lose her restraint, willing to give everything for her beloved.

Qing'er obediently lifted her legs, allowing me to easily remove her skirt and underwear. It was an even more mysterious place. I quickly lowered my head to explore, to search for, and to observe that sacred land. I saw sparse, curly pubic hair at the lower part of her abdomen, somewhat messy, and a captivating slit of flesh below. Two slits squeezed out at her groin, feeling incredibly soft and sensitive. I couldn't resist touching it; it was so smooth.

Qing'er seemed to be stimulated, trembling slightly and opening her legs a little. I could now clearly see the slit of flesh, pink and tender, glistening with a bit of moisture. The seductive scent filled my nostrils and entered my mind. The intense sensory stimulation compelled me to bury my head and savor that clitoris, that slit, that piece of tender flesh. Qing'er also rubbed her buttocks against it from time to time, seeking a larger area of contact.

My whole body was burning hot, so I quickly unbuttoned my clothes and thrust my engorged, rock-hard penis inside. Like many times before, just as I felt I was about to see the blurry body of my dream goddess, I would suddenly ejaculate, a rush of urination followed, and streams of semen would spurt out, shooting deep into Qing'er's body. I was like a defeated soldier, full of passion, entering enemy territory, expecting to make a name for myself, achieve countless victories, and establish great achievements, only to crumble at the first touch, still stubbornly holding my head high. Yes, many men still feel uncomfortably hard even after ejaculating the first time. As a man who, though I haven't experienced it myself, understands from the open information of today's society that only hardness and duration make a true man, and my surrender at the first encounter was undoubtedly shameful and embarrassing.

Qing'er seemed to understand, embracing me, stroking my face, and kissing my face, eyes, and nose. It was like a resurrection spell in a game, where I was quickly revived by divine healing, then marched forward triumphantly, thrusting wildly, exploring repeatedly. That night, I don't know how many rounds I made crazy demands of Qing'er. When we got tired, we would rest for a while, and then fight like enemies. Qing'er's body was covered with my marks, especially her buttocks and breasts, which were covered with bruises.

After Qing'er left, I remained immersed in the joy of having tasted the forbidden fruit and becoming a real man. The thought that I dared not let surface deep in my heart was that Qing'er must not be a virgin anymore. I am not ignorant, or rather, living in this information-rich world, I vaguely know that virgins bleed and cannot withstand defilement, and Qing'er was obviously not. This complex feeling of joy and depression lingered in my heart. Looking back now, I realize my feelings weren't simply a virginity complex. Maybe a tiny bit, but not the main one. The main issue was that my feelings for Qing'er weren't love, but merely a desire for the opposite sex. It gave me an immense vanity of being pursued by a beautiful girl, and at the time, I was too naive to distinguish right from wrong. After the initial passion faded, it became like a curse, impossible to escape. For men, virginity is sometimes a psychological cost of betrayal. Leaving aside the pursuit of virgins, that thin membrane can give men a huge sense of possession and a heavy psychological cost of betrayal. That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but at least without a virgin, men seem to feel less psychological pressure to betray. This is what makes men so despicable; they can derive satisfaction from sex that is purely lustful without love, leaving almost no trace. Women, on the other hand, are much more cautious in distinguishing between love and lust because they have to pay a much higher price. Of course, some say that hymenoplasty is now possible, but that's only a formality. What about the psychological cost to a woman? In general, men are the givers in sexual matters, while women are the receivers. Men can leave their mark all over the world, but women are different. Some might say that gender balance is now achieved, and women can also be promiscuous. But remember, a promiscuous woman's promiscuity begins after her hymen is broken, while a man's promiscuity is ingrained in his bones.

Yes, Qing'er is not a virgin; I can confirm it. I learned from a chance encounter that Qing'er had already been taken care of. The cost of my betrayal was almost zero, or rather, calling it betrayal is wrong. I can now clearly distinguish between my desire and love. My impulse towards Qing'er was merely a teenage boy's yearning, a lust. I am ashamed of myself and pitiful for Qing'er. The Qing'er I remember was strong and capable, not the kind of person who would sell herself for vanity and pleasure. In fact, not only then, but even now, I have never directly asked her why. It's out of pity and respect for her. Alas! This damned world has buried so much purity!

What happened next seemed normal. We argued and broke up over the phone and never saw each other again. Two or three years later, she called me again. By then, I had met my current wife. I hung up on her abruptly a few times and never called again. At that time, I slowly began to understand that Qing'er was a strong and capable person. She loved too passionately. I didn't want to hurt her, and I didn't dare to touch her again. Later, I heard from a close classmate that she had joined a 500 company after graduation. Then, when Maidou went to discuss business and invited me to join them, I waited downstairs and, feeling bored, decided to go up and see how the meeting was going. If it didn't go well, I would leave. When I opened the meeting room door, Qing'er recognized me at a glance, even though we hadn't seen each other for many years. We were both stunned. Maidou quickly introduced us, and in my panic, I only knew that Qing'er had changed her mind and agreed.

*** *** *** ***

Qing'er still came, saying she wanted to discuss some details with our company. Even Mai Dou knew why she was there, but it was strange that she wouldn't come for several months. Maybe it was because it was almost the end of the year and she really had some details to discuss. We talked for a short while at the company, and then Mai Dou betrayed me. "Okay, no problem, that's settled. Let your old classmate show you some hospitality. I'll go follow up down there."

"Follow up my ass! You're always just hanging around, aren't you? You're a sales manager, and you're making me entertain clients? Do you think I'm a gigolo?" I cursed inwardly.

"Old classmate, you didn't even invite me to your wedding, that's so unfair!" "Old classmate, why are you so reserved? I'm not going to eat you..." The entire meal consisted of just the two of us, and Qing'er dominated the conversation.

Qing'er, oh Qing'er, why? Why are you so assertive? Why are you so resilient? Why are you still single? Why did you still lose your composure when you saw me in the conference room years later? McDull got all the advantage, why did we meet so early!

Zhang Xiaoxian said in "A Kiss Suspended in Mid-Air": Meeting someone is either too late or too early. / I met you too early, I didn't know how to love you. / I met you too early, I didn't know how to cherish you. / I met you too early, our worlds were still far apart, needing time to close the gap. / I met you too early, I still had so many dreams to realize, you wouldn't understand? You couldn't accept it. / Later, I felt regret, you appeared too early, if it had been later, our lives would have been different. Why didn't I meet you later? / I met you too late, you already had someone else by your side. You said, "Why didn't I meet you sooner?" I didn't know how to answer you. / I met you too late, I already had someone else by my side. I said, "If it weren't for him, I would have fallen in love with you, but why didn't you appear sooner? If I had met you six years ago, everything would have been different." You said sadly, "Six years ago, I had someone else by my side." It turns out, we never met at the right time. I met you too late; now I know what love is. I regret not saving my first time for you. I met you too late; I'm no longer the same person I used to be, capable of loving someone unconditionally. If we had met at the right time, how impossible that would have been. (Author's note: Whew, I sighed deeply. Please forgive my willful copying of everything Zhang Xiaoxian wrote above.)

I mentioned earlier that a stunningly beautiful woman can stimulate a man's endocrine system, causing his alcohol tolerance to increase rapidly. I also said that a woman's beauty is directly proportional to a man's alcohol tolerance. Qing'er is also beautiful, but my words need a context, it's when I'm not preoccupied. My feelings during the meal with Qing'er were complicated, so I got drunk quickly. Afterwards, when I took Qing'er back to her hotel room, I think we made love passionately. Afterwards, she laughed happily, like someone who had won at cards and was showing off. Or maybe not, it was a bit distant, a bit blurry, uncertain. But then I felt it might not matter. In a daze, I pushed open the hotel's revolving door, hailed a taxi, and left. In my hazy state, it seemed that the revolving door was my life, spinning, always spinning… Ha, the woman who went in looked exactly like Yanran. Ha, I'm drunk.

(IV) The Post Exposes the Initial Conspiracy

"Shui Wangfeng, you've gone too far!" A hard slap landed on my face. My wife rushed into my office, yelled, slapped me, and stormed out.

Okay, yes, my name is Shui Wangfeng. I've been avoiding mentioning it before, and this name isn't meant to disparage Wang Feng at all. My father's surname is Shui, the same Shui as Shui Sheng in the novel *Liancheng Jue*, and my mother's surname is Wang. As for why the third character is Feng, I've never bothered to find out; maybe it was drawn by lot.

I've been laughed at too many times because of this name. When I was little, people laughed at it because it sounded like royal jelly. In recent years, they've laughed at me for trying so hard to get on the front page. But my father named me first, and by the time the "Wang Headline Incident" happened, I'd already used it for many years, and I've endured it for many years. Sometimes people say my name sounds incredibly rustic, and I can only chuckle. I think names like "Mao Zedong" and "Zhou Enlai" certainly sound ambitious, but I really don't see what's so great about Deng Xiaoping's "Xiaoping" (meaning "small"). But now, who in all of China hasn't benefited from him, just like how many fantasy novels call him Emperor Taizong? So what if it's a bit old-fashioned? It makes it easy to strike up a conversation with girls. They'll laugh as soon as they hear it, making it easier to chat and flirt. That's how I got my wife. Wait… my wife… I

was so happy to see her suddenly come in after working two overtime shifts that I almost laughed, but then she slapped me so hard I was dizzy. I shook my head and rushed after her, but all I saw was her car speeding away. She wouldn't answer my calls. By the time I got to the garage to chase after her, she was nowhere to be found. I rushed home, but she wasn't there. Then I searched aimlessly, feeling a strange mix of emotions. I thought to myself, when I finally find her, I'll give her a good spanking—the kind where I strip her naked. Unfortunately, I couldn't find her. I called my mother-in-law, but she wasn't there either, and instead, I got a lot of worried nagging. Anxious, I went back to the company to ask for leave, and then I saw someone I never expected.

Yanran, that beautiful, innocent woman, like a daffodil, was standing right outside my company entrance, looking around as if searching for someone.

Is it her? Is it this woman who appears innocent on the outside but is actually calculating on the inside? Did she say something to my wife? A surge of anger welled up inside me, and I rushed over. "What are you doing?"

Yanran, who was still looking around, was startled by my words. She clearly beamed when she saw it was me. "I've been looking for

you." "Let's see what tricks you're up to," I thought to myself. "What do you want?"

Yanran clearly didn't detect the anger in my tone. "Let's find a place to sit down and talk. It's not convenient here."

"Okay, let's go to the hotel next to our company!" I was already certain it was her, but I calmly restrained myself. I wanted to see what she was up to.

I poured a glass of water for Yanran, who was sitting on the bed, and then sat stiffly on the sofa opposite her, watching her. Psychologically speaking, I was in a state of extreme suppressed and rebellious emotions.

After hesitating for a long time, Yanran seemed to finally make up her mind. "I am Qiqi."

"Qiqi! Which Qiqi?" I was a little confused. Did I really need to know this Qiqi?

"Qiqi from the SIS forum," Yanran said, her face slightly flushed. "Goddess Qi, you're Goddess Qi!" I was shocked. Yanran actually said she was Goddess Qi. "Goddess Qi" was the nickname we regulars on the SIS forum used for Qiqi, a popular girl in the "Beautiful Women" section. She used to share private photos with her boyfriend.

"Hmm," Yanran's face turned even redder. Perhaps hearing that nickname in real life made her even more shy.

"I don't believe it. The difference is too big. It's impossible," I said almost reflexively. The difference between the two was indeed huge.

After hearing my words, Yanran seemed to calm down. "Okay, tell me. What is it that you don't believe? I'll explain it to you."

"Oh, now that you mention it, it's actually somewhat possible. Afeng is indeed Qingcai, and you two did break up, but something doesn't seem right." Seeing Yanran's expression, I seemed to believe what she said.

"Yes, Afeng is Qingcai."

"You told me last time that you two were classmates?"

"We were classmates, but some of the online rumors are deliberately misleading."

"Wait, something still doesn't quite make sense. Someone as shy as you would go on a forum to post pictures." I still thought it was unlikely. "Because... Afeng likes it."

"That's true, it's quite possible for a silly girl like you who would do anything for love."

Yanran, or Qiqi, well, let's just call her Qiqi from now on. Maybe it was because I called her a silly girl that Qiqi rolled her eyes at me. "Besides, the internet is a virtual world. Do you really think that you are exactly the same in real life as you are online?"

Qiqi was right. Many people, including myself, have very different personalities online and in real life. Maybe in real life we suppress ourselves and can't fully let go, but online we seem like a different person. We feel relieved of our repression and tear off the hypocritical mask we wear in real life. Plus, I had a brief intimate encounter with Qiqi and saw her figure, which perfectly matched the figure of Qiqi circulating online, so I already believed that Yanran was Qiqi.

"Okay, one last question. Last time we were together, I felt you were a bit rusty."

"Does Qiqi have to be skilled? Besides, I was just nervous."

At this point, I had completely forgotten about my wife. Although I've never been a fan of any celebrity, Qiqi is probably one of the brightest stars compared to Sis, and so is Romance. They are goddesses in the hearts of countless guys, a gift from heaven for masturbation. "You really are Goddess Qi! Come here and give me a hug, and sign an autograph for me so I can show off." At this moment

, I really forgot about my wife. You can imagine the impact this had on me. "You're so annoying." Qiqi said she was annoyed but actually hugged me. Maybe it was because we had seen each other naked. "Sigh, I forgot to tell you about your wife."

"Oh, right, tell me, tell me, what is it?" Qiqi's words reminded me that there was something I hadn't said.

"Your wife found out about the post Romance made, and Romance was also invited by Qing'er..." Qiqi's two simple sentences plunged me into an abyss. I don't know how Romance and Qing'er could be connected? A sense of conspiracy washed over me.

"How could Qing'er possibly know Langman? Why was Langman called by Qing'er? Why does Langman listen to her? How do you know all this? Why did Langman post that?" So many questions made me almost scream in despair. No wonder when McDull rushed in to ask me a few days ago, I checked on SIS and was still very confused as to why Langman would post something. I was thinking of either ignoring it or posting a clarification when I had time. But now it seems that everything was deliberate, and everything had a strong sense of conspiracy.

"Hey, although it's cliché, it really feels like a movie scene... I'm Qing'er's assistant." Qiqi came over and hugged my head to her chest, trying to comfort me as much as possible.

"Aren't you a shop owner?"

"A WeChat seller? You don't even know what a WeChat seller is?!"

"So, it was Qing'er who set this up for me, and you knew all along!" When I heard Qiqi say she was Qing'er's assistant, I felt like the world was too small. It was like that revolving door in the hotel that night, spinning and spinning, spinning in a cycle, thinking I was running fast but always being held back by fate.

"No, I didn't know. I just accidentally... accidentally overheard Qing'er instructing someone to leak the post to your wife, and I just happened to see Romantic's new post a few days ago."

I understood. Romantic was a pawn in Qing'er's hands. She seduced me, then posted our story online, and finally let my wife know so that she would leave me. It was all Qing'er's doing. Sure enough, that's Qing'er's style. She won't give up until she gets what she wants. After so many years in the workplace, Qing'er's methods are even more sophisticated, one step after another.

Although I don't know how Qing'er manages to control my wife's best friend, or how she can ensure that if my wife leaves me, I'll definitely be with her, I'm certain she has her own methods. For example, she climbed to her current position in just a few years after graduation. Keep in mind that her current company and the old man she was kept by during her studies are not even in the same city or industry. Therefore, she shouldn't have relied on that old man's abilities, but solely on her own cunning and hard work.

A sudden wave of fear and helplessness washed over me; I felt like I was about to collapse. "Hold me, hold me," I said weakly to Qiqi, while a line from the Ming Cult's teachings in *The Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber* incongruously popped into my head: "Pity the people of this world, for they suffer many hardships."

Qiqi hugged me tightly. I said to Qiqi, "Love me, give yourself to me, make love with me." It was a nonsensical request; I don't know why I said those things back then. In hindsight, I can only conclude that my emotions at the time were extremely unstable. I felt like the protagonist in "The Truman Show," as if every move I made, every second of my life, was being exposed to hidden cameras everywhere. Only by overcoming my deepest fears could I break free and gain freedom. And when I entered a woman's body, I was in control. Or perhaps it was a form of rebellion against Qing'er—you care so much about me, yet I willingly enter another woman's body.

Qiqi was clearly startled by my audacious request and frightened by the ferocity in my eyes. I didn't care whether Qiqi was willing or not; after speaking, I disregarded her resistance and, like a wild beast, tore off her clothes, quickly stripping myself naked as well. Kind-hearted Qiqi, perhaps sensing my anger and resentment, silently accepted my rudeness.

When Qiqi's alabaster-like body was completely exposed, I let out a beastly roar, gnawing and sucking at her like a wild boar rooting for food. From the neck to the breasts, from the slender waist to the full hips, and from the thighs to the calves, it deliberately avoids that most alluring and mysterious place.

Kiki's body was sensitive, constantly writhing. If my mouth was on the left, she would shift her weight to the left; if it was on the right, she would shift to the right. It was as if my mouth was a magnet, strongly attracting her mysterious, moist garden. Again and again, until finally Kiki realized I was deliberately dodging, deliberately seducing her. She let out a soft moan, "You bad boy!" and gave me a sharp, seductive glare, her eyes brimming with watery desire and longing.

The beauty's allure was immense; such a stunning woman's captivating gaze completely ignited my lust. The poem says: "In the north there is a beautiful woman, peerless and independent. One glance could topple a city, a second glance could topple a nation." But now, even the most beautiful woman wouldn't be exchanged for a single toe of Kiki's.

As my hands ceaselessly caressed Kiki's entire body, and my mouth licked her juices, Kiki let out a satisfied, high-pitched moan. I sucked hard on Kiki's clitoris, my mouth feeling like a vacuum, and then quickly and skillfully licked it with my tongue. Under this intense stimulation, Kiki quickly reached her first orgasm.

As my hard penis entered Kiki's vagina again, Kiki cheered, "Ah...it's in...so good...so itchy!"

My penis was like a pile driver, pounding rapidly. With each thrust, Kiki's big white breasts bounced and cheered, dancing wildly up and down, agile and playful.

After nearly a hundred rapid thrusts, I pulled out with a "pop" sound as her juices gushed out, splashing everywhere. Qiqi lingered, pleading, "I want more, I want more..."

I got off the bed and pressed Qiqi's legs against her chest. It was a very lewd position. Qiqi's hands were wrapped around her legs, and her breasts appeared even more prominent under the pressure, her cleavage deeper. Her vagina was completely exposed, her sparse pubic hair covered with the juices that had splashed out during our intense battle. Her vaginal opening was wide open, rapidly contracting, like the most wanton woman begging for my large penis to enter.

I bent down and inserted my penis into Kiki's vagina as she wished, thrusting in and out slowly but deeply. This position seemed designed specifically for depth; as Kiki spread her legs with her hands, her genitals met my penis at the perfect angle, penetrating every inch and hitting her G-spot every time.

I kneaded her breasts with one hand through her legs, while the other hand quickly flicked her fully exposed clitoris. My mouth completely sealed Kiki's lips, my tongue exploring her delicate tongue, occasionally licking her neck or earlobe. This position requires skill and stamina; the combined use of hands, feet, and mouth provides a woman with comprehensive stimulation and enjoyment. Not long after, Kiki's moans, compressed into "uh-uh" sounds in my mouth, twisted from side to side, trying to escape the blockage of my mouth and shout loudly. Finally, she broke free and let out a scream of "Ah!" Her white, lotus-root-like arms clung tightly to me, scratching bloody marks on my back. Her vagina began to contract violently like never before, as if darkness was swallowing everything, her whole body convulsing and spasming as if electrocuted. Under the stimulation of her high-pitched climax and intense contractions, I ejaculated all at once, pouring my semen into Kiki's uterus.

Exhausted, we both lay on the bed, panting heavily. Even after a long rest, we hadn't fully recovered from the intense pleasure of sex. I tilted my head and said to Kiki, "Thank you, thank you," not knowing whether I was thanking her for telling me the reason or thanking her for giving me such a wonderful moment.

"It's okay, it'll be alright. I believe you'll be very, very good." Kiki's words seemed still immersed in the pleasure of sex, and her logic was a little confused, but I could completely understand what she was saying. This kind and beautiful girl sensitively sensed my anxiety and comforted me after I had ravaged her.

At this moment,

she was the only one who

understood me, pampered me, cared for me, and cherished me!

(V) Revenge on Romance

The information I received from Qiqi made me extremely negative. My wife had left home several days ago without a word. All I could think about was Romance's heartless betrayal. She had betrayed my beautiful expectations of her and my innocent best friend. I was also terrified of Qing'er's terrifying control. I felt like a pawn on a chessboard, being manipulated at will.

"I want revenge, I want revenge on Romance, I want revenge on Qing'er." I gave a clear signal in my heart, and Romance was my first target. Only through her could I find out how Qing'er was able to control her and how far Qing'er had progressed in her scheme.

"How to get revenge?" I kept thinking about how to get back at Langman. Hiring someone to beat her up would be a pathetic act for a lowly scoundrel, unsuitable for my current status. Besides, hiring someone would be a hassle if it got exposed, so I immediately rejected that idea. Finding a mistress for her husband seemed too time-consuming, and I couldn't wait. It seemed my only option was to hire someone to post her nude photos online. "Yes, that's it." I made up my mind.

Then I considered the feasibility of this plan—how could I get her nude photos? I had to see her in person. No matter what, I believed she couldn't possibly only have a ulterior motive and no affection for me whatsoever. That wonderful night seemed like yesterday, yet also like a distant memory. With just that little bit of affection, I could fully exploit it, even her guilt, as long as I could get her naked.

Having decided the plan was feasible, I drove to the electronics market and bought all the necessary electronic products. Now, all that was left was finding a location to set up the setup and figuring out how to lure her over. Most importantly, I needed to figure out how to actually get her there. She wasn't answering my calls, so who could I contact to reach her? We didn't know each other before, we didn't have a shared social circle, and everyone on the SIS forum was anonymous.

We didn't know each other in real life, and we didn't know how to contact each other. It was rare to find someone like McDull who knew me both online and offline. Besides, I didn't know who her mutual friend was, and I couldn't just ask someone else for help. My plan seemed to have hit a dead end.

Suddenly, a thought struck me. Yes, maybe Kiki could help. They were both popular SIS members, and both women, so they were less wary of each other. I had Romantic's phone number, and besides, Kiki could PM her on the forum. Thinking this, I felt completely at ease.

"How's it going? Did you find your wife?" Kiki's sweet voice came through the phone. I could almost see invisible wings on her back through the phone line; she was like an angel, pure, kind, and beautiful.

Since the incident, I've become a bit sentimental. "Not yet, can you help me contact Romance? I want to ask her about the situation." I didn't want to tell Qiqi about my plan. Maybe I was afraid of tainting her.

"I don't have her contact information!"

"I do, but she doesn't answer my calls. Could you call her for me and say you just want to find out what happened?"

"Okay, then send me her number."

"Okay, I'll send it to you right now. You and her should agree on a meeting place."

I quickly hung up and sent Romance's number to Qiqi. Now I'm waiting for Qiqi's reply, waiting for a specific location to carry out my next step.

An incredibly long hour passed, during which I went to the bathroom four times and drank three bottles of water before I finally received a call from Qiqi. "Romantic said she'll make time to come over tomorrow and wants you to choose a meeting place."

"Okay, let's go to the Shangri-La. I'm a VIP, I'll send you the room number later." I quickly made the call, booked the room, and sent the room number to Qiqi.

I woke up early the next morning and drove to Shangri-La, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. I was excited that my counterattack could finally begin, but anxious because I worried that Romance might hate me (a sad state of mind for a sentimental man, still worrying about this even at a time like this). After getting my room key from the hotel lobby, I went out to find professionals to set up the operation. I hired a private detective agency to help me with my surveillance, ostensibly because I suspected my wife of cheating. Although I know a little about detective work, living in this city for so long has given me a kind of compulsive tendency to leave professional tasks to professionals, especially since I wanted everything to be foolproof.

Shortly after the people helping with the setup left, I received a call from Qiqi saying they had arrived at the hotel. I was surprised that Qiqi had come along. Qiqi explained that Romance had only asked her to accompany him to the hotel; she would wait downstairs and wouldn't come over to talk. Hearing this, I felt even more confident. Romance was afraid to face me; she felt guilty. In other words, my chances of success had increased exponentially.

Romance knocked on the door shortly after. Opening it, even though I harbored much resentment towards her, I was still struck by her delicate figure. Her fair face showed a hint of weariness, and I wanted to pull her into my arms and comfort her. Beauty is indeed a curse. Sima Qian's *Records of the Grand Historian*, Volume 4, "Annals of Zhou," records: "Bao Si did not like to laugh, but King You wanted her to laugh in all directions, so she did not laugh. King You built beacon towers and large drums; when enemies arrived, the beacon fires were lit..." This story of the beacon fires playing with the feudal lords has been commented on by later generations as having nothing to do with poor Bao Si. How reasonable! But it just shows he hadn't witnessed Romance's presence at that moment.

"Won't you let me in?" Romance's voice was slightly hoarse, pulling me back from my reverie of King You.

"Come in!" I stepped aside. Romantic sat silently on the sofa, perhaps waiting for my questions. I sat on the bed, my mind racing, trying to figure out how to question her, how to seduce her. I had thought of everything, but that moment of distraction seemed to have cleared my mind. I needed to recall everything. It was as if seeing her again made me savor the wonderful feeling she had given me that night.

The two of us stood there silently, like sculptures on a street corner. The room was deathly quiet.

After what seemed like an eternity, Romantic's phone rang. She glanced at me and went into the bathroom to answer it.

This call made me harden my heart again. Why was I still thinking about these things at a time like this? When Romantic came out of the bathroom after the call, she stared at me blankly. Was she waiting for my questions? How could she be so at ease? How could she be so calm and composed? Did she have even a shred of conscience? Was it really true, as the internet says, that best friends are for betraying?

Before I could recover from the anger and resentment in my heart, I saw Romance slowly remove all her clothes, standing before me like a statue. Sunlight filtering through the gaps in the curtains shone through her armpits, making her breasts appear even more mysterious and alluring. Her expression was calm, her face devoid of any seductive charm, yet radiating a saintly, holy light.

With a buzz, my mind exploded, and a surge of lust drove me to Romance. I laid her down on the bed, the sunlight illuminating her completely naked body, making the capillaries on her snow-white skin clearly visible. Her red nipples were almost translucent, incredibly tempting. My tongue gently licked her nipples, and the sunlight cast our shadows on the wall, fresh and beautiful.

Romance was particularly aroused today. I only lightly kissed her breasts a few times before she flipped over and impatiently unbuttoned my shirt. As I cooperated, unbuttoning my shirt to lick her lovely nipples again, Romance had already turned around and straddled me to unbuckle my belt. She must have done it on purpose; she deliberately exposed her genitals completely to my view. Her straddling position spread her genitals wide open, extremely lewd, and the sunlight streaming in shone on her buttocks, her anus, her vagina, and her labia as if afraid I wouldn't see clearly. Yes, she must have done it on purpose, otherwise she wouldn't have raised her buttocks so high, positioning her genitals just above my eyes. It was so inconvenient for me to kiss that beautiful place. Did she want me to remember the lovely look of her pink labia? Did she want me to remember the beautiful shape of the ring of flesh at the vaginal opening? Or did she want me to remember the direction of her slightly messy pubic hair? This beautiful woman really knows how to perfectly display her beauty to me!

As I cooperated and allowed Romantic to pull down my underwear, her hands roamed and explored my lower body, moving from the inside of my thighs to my groin, then down to my testicles, around my penis, to the other groin, and then to the inside of the other thigh. That hateful Romantic wouldn't touch my penis; she even deliberately avoided it. She circled back and forth like this, teasing me like she was crossing the Chishui River four times.

Finally, I pressed down on Romantic's seemingly sky-high buttocks, bringing her alluring slit to my lips and nibbling at it. At the same time, Romantic stopped roaming and grasped my penis, gently stroking it up and down. After a few strokes, I suddenly felt my penis enveloped in warmth. Ah, it felt so good! Romantic was giving me oral sex, but she seemed a little inexperienced; she probably hadn't done it much before.

The intense stimulation made me increase the frequency of my nibbling, and Romantic pressed her buttocks down forcefully, rubbing her vulva completely against my face. Soon, Romance seemed unable to bear the stimulation, or perhaps she wasn't satisfied enough. She got up, rolled over, and used her hands to spread her labia, sitting on my face. Her vagina rubbed against my mouth, and occasionally my nose would touch her tender, red clitoris. Her legs were stretched wide open, like she was doing a split, seeking the closest possible contact between her vagina and mouth.

She kept moaning "Ah...ah...ah...", and I could fully feel her pleasure.

Romance, like a dedicated plasterer, smeared my face with her vaginal fluids. Her frenzied, unrestrained movements made it almost impossible for me to breathe. But I was so happy; at this moment, everything was moistened, and life was exuberant.

She rapidly shook her hips to meet my rubbing against her, and soon stopped, exhausted. She quickly got out of bed and placed her hands on the bed, saying, "Quick...come...come and fuck me..."

I don't know why she was so aroused today. She dominated the entire sexual encounter, but who could resist such a seductive request from a beautiful woman? Besides, doggy style is my favorite; it allows my erection to be at a similar angle to her vagina, making it easier to penetrate and fully stimulating my sense of conquest.

I immediately got out of bed and thrust my rock-hard penis into her vagina, holding her buttocks with both hands, making rapid thrusting movements. With each thrust, her breasts swayed, casting extremely lewd shadows on the wall.

The tender flesh inside Romantic's vagina seemed to be playing hide-and-seek with me, playfully moving in and out with each thrust of my penis. Gradually, it became less visible because the vaginal fluid inside Romantic's body, from the frequent thrusting and the occasional grinding of her buttocks, had turned into a white foam. Throughout the entire thrusting process, Romantic's mouth was like a chatterbox, never quiet for a moment. "Ah...ah..."

"So deep...you're going in so deep..."

"It's hitting the spot...it's hitting the spot again..."

"Ah...faster...fuck harder..."

"So hard...so long...so powerful..."

It was clear that Romantic was extremely excited. Some say that some women don't moan during sex, but I think that might just mean they haven't reached that state of frenzy. Given the right environment, she will definitely release that feeling that makes her soul leave her body; she will definitely express it with cheers. It's like exhaling after eating something unbearably spicy—it's a completely natural bodily reaction.

I can't quite remember what Romantic had called out, but I know I was extremely excited at the time, thrusting wildly, each time going all the way in. The contractions from Romantic's vaginal walls made my penis even more sensitive and stimulating, and my movements became even more unrestrained and rough. I would occasionally lean down and, like in a light SM session, pull on her nipples with both hands, not with much force. I don't know if Romantic has a slight masochistic tendency, just as I know I don't have a sadistic fetish, but we could both feel that this occasional action greatly enhanced our psychological pleasure.

The doggy style is indeed a position that stimulates a woman's clitoris more. Romantic had already fainted several times under the invasion of my penis, and I felt that I was about to ejaculate. My breathing became noticeably heavier and deeper, and I started swearing, the muffled groans from my nose rhythmically moving with my body. It gave me a strong sense of conquest.

"I'm going to fuck you to pieces," "I'm going to fuck you through," "I'm going to fuck your cunt until it's swollen," "Romantic, your cunt is so beautiful," "Romantic, your ass is so sexy." Actually, there is a difference between men's and women's moaning. Men tend to express what they want or what they receive more subjectively, while women are more willing to passively accept or demand.

I don't know if it was my vulgar language that gave Romantic a strong sense of happiness and shame at being able to satisfy me, or if my praise was the best aphrodisiac for her, or if my heavy breathing affected her. We both reached the peak of spirit and desire almost simultaneously. My semen shot into Romantic's body, as if it wanted to pierce through her entire body and come out from her panting mouth.

The two of us, slumped on the edge of the bed, remained in an embracing position. My head was pressed against Romantic's pair of white breasts, and the lewd smell of Romantic's sweat and our intercourse filled my nostrils.

Romance is truly a rare and wonderful thing, that's what I was thinking as I slowly recovered. After enjoying such wonderful sexual pleasure, my heart began to waver. Should I still take revenge on her? Does Qing'er have some kind of leverage over her? Is she innocent? A series of questions swept through my mind. After

a moment of internal struggle, I decided to give up on revenge. I said to Romance, "Actually, I originally installed..." I didn't know what to say next. Did I really need to tell her that I came here to take nude photos of her?

"I know, you installed a lot of cameras in this room."

Damn it, how did Romance know? I can't describe the shock I felt at that moment. "That phone call was from Qiqi. The person who helped you install these is someone she knows. She ran into that person downstairs and let it slip. After all, he didn't expect Qiqi to know you, and Qiqi was so smart to deduce that it was you." Romance's expression was calm, neither sad nor happy.

"Since you know why you still..."

"Do what you want, I'll cooperate. I didn't know things would turn out this way."

"Then tell me what happened?"

Romantic got up naked, poured herself a glass of water, and drank it. My eyes followed her naked body, as if the sex just now wasn't enough for me; I was still greedily savoring her. After drinking the water, Romantic sat on the bed. I went over and gently embraced her. The two of us lay naked on the bed, embracing. "Qing'er and my family have business dealings. She threatened me to seduce you."

"What threat? She told you to come, so you came."

"Maybe it's because that person is you."

"What do you mean? What do you mean because that person is me? I'm... Ling'er's husband."

"Precisely because you're Ling'er's husband, actually... I thought about it carefully later. A best friend's husband is like your husband's sister-in-law, which is very tempting. Besides, Ling'er has told me a lot of your private things. I think someone who calls his wife 'Yatou' is... I... I often project what Ling'er said onto you, so... so I inexplicably... inexplicably agreed to her. But I never thought of harming you or Ling'er."

Although the romance was broken, I could still understand it quickly. Just like many girls who idolize celebrities, the reason they idolize celebrities is that they unconsciously project themselves into the TV shows and movies they act in, and feelings have already begun to develop in their fantasies. If Ling'er had told Langman some details about our sex life, she would have wanted to verify and appreciate it even more. However, most people don't have that opportunity most of the time. But Qing'er's intervention gave Langman that opportunity. She was either really threatened or needed such an excuse to take this step. Moreover, judging from the fact that Langman didn't answer my calls afterward, she didn't want to hurt Ling'er deep down.

"Then why did you post it?" I seemed to have grasped the whole story. "Qing'er originally asked me to take photos or record audio, but I didn't listen to her, and she said she would sue my family." "

What exactly happened that she would sue your family?"

"Some business contract stuff, I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, skip that, then what?"

"Then I posted that."

"And in that post, you deliberately wrote that I was drunk, to protect me, right?"

"Hmm...yes." Romantic blushed. I didn't know that two naked people embracing each other could blush at this moment. "But even so, Qing'er still brought it up and told Ling'er about it."

"Hmm."

*** *** *** ***

After returning from the hotel, I finally understood the reason for everything. Now, everything hinges on Qing'er. No matter how much I don't want to face Qing'er, no matter how afraid I am of Qing'er's domineering nature, I can only face her directly.

But there's one more thing I must do. This woman, whose body is so mature it's almost devastating, has the heart of a naive girl. Driven by a childlike curiosity and innocence, she originally intended to secretly meet with her best friend's husband, but things have escalated to this point. Even so, she's secretly protecting everyone from harm. Knowing I was taking nude photos as revenge, she pretended ignorance and cooperated fully. No wonder she deliberately revealed herself. Therefore, as a man, I must tell the truth. This shouldn't be what the beautiful and kind-hearted woman deserves. But I don't know how to tell this story. Having not written anything for years, I feel lost. Attentive readers might already spot some grammatical errors. It's been so long since I've written anything; I'm quite rusty.

I picked up my notebook, logged into the forum, and typed "The Story I Have to Tell About My Unromantic Friend..."

At the time, I just wanted to post something to clarify what happened that day mentioned in the "Romantic" post, but I couldn't explain my reason for posting. So, I could only use a fictional, modified version of my beautiful colleague to tell the whole story. The time I started writing this post: 12:00 AM (Saturday) on December 22, 2016,

facing the sun.

The next day, the highway was nearly empty. It felt like it had been built just for me—empty, quiet, and impossible to turn around. You know you're heading towards the end, but you can't see the finish line, just like life. I shook my head to stop these negative thoughts, picked up my phone, and dialed my girlfriend's number, muttering, "Girl, I'm going to Dongguan now. Don't you always nag me whenever I go on a business trip to Dongguan?" My silly girlfriend only learned after the crackdown on prostitution in Dongguan that it had a massive sex industry that generated a staggering 50 billion yuan in economic benefits annually. Even sillier, she's been nagging me every time I go to Dongguan ever since. She doesn't know that those industries have already moved elsewhere; now, the tips in some Shenzhen bars are more expensive than the prostitutes used to cost in Dongguan. And now, Dongguan, once a major "sex capital," seems to be declining since the crackdown on prostitution began in 2014, coupled with rising labor costs and external environmental factors. "The number you dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later." A cold, emotionless electronic voice came from the phone. This was the nth time I'd failed to contact her.

Even though Ling'er was now a wife, she was still like a little girl who hadn't grown up. Ever since watching "Living with an Air Hostess," she insisted that I call her "Yatou" (Little Girl). At first, I wasn't used to it, but after a few brutal attempts at persuasion (scratching my feet with a feather duster), I slowly got used to it. This silly girl was fully enjoying the pampering and princess-like feeling that the nickname brought her. Now, she'd been missing for days without a word. I knew she was avoiding me, but I was incredibly worried. I was afraid she'd run into bad people, afraid she'd get lost (Yatou is a complete scatterbrain).

A wave of fear washed over me. Would Ling'er leave me? Will Ling'er, the one who used to whine to me, "Please don't spank me, it hurts!" and who would suddenly blurt out, "Wang Feng, I think even when you're old, I'll still love you very, very much," while we were peacefully watching TV, be gone from my life? Only now am I truly facing this question. People always say you only appreciate something when you lose it, and I seem to be about to lose it...?

Frustrated, I floored the gas pedal, the engine revving rapidly as I sped off with a roar. I just wanted to see Qing'er quickly, to ask her how she could let me go, to quickly resolve Qing'er's troubles, to drop everything and find my Ling'er, my girl.

*** *** *** ***

In the afternoon café, two or three people sat sparsely. As soon as I opened the door, I saw Qing'er, wearing a dress, sitting wearily in a seat towards the back, just like in this otherwise languid afternoon. Yet, she felt so mysterious and unfamiliar to me.

"Speak, what do you want to talk about?" Qing'er, who had been looking tired, straightened her back and sat up straighter after I sat down. Her words were as assertive, capable, and direct as ever.

"Qing'er, what exactly do you want?"

Qing'er was clearly taken aback by my stern question. "It seems that slut Langman told you everything. I'm just wondering how she managed to talk to you about it?"

There was a clear resentment towards Langman in Qing'er's tone. What was she resenting about Langman? Was it because Langman and I had been together? Or because Langman had stolen her crush's best friend? I didn't know. But from Qing'er's words, I could tell she probably didn't know it was because of Qiqi, and I certainly couldn't tell her. "I know everything now, it was all your doing."

"Wang Feng, don't you want this? Don't you like a vixen like Langman? Isn't a charming and talented man with a stunning beauty better? So what you care about is why your wife found out, or what you care about is that Langman approached you with a purpose?" Qing'er's words betrayed her truest resentment. The capable Qing'er wouldn't be so hesitant and stammering. She resented me, she resented me, and perhaps she also resented Langman and my wife.

"Why did you do this? For what?"

"Ha, after all these years, you still ask me why? What do you think I did for what?" Qing'er's eyes held many emotions: resentment, anger, inner turmoil, and even other things I didn't know.

"Qing'er, don't be like this. We broke up eight hundred years ago."

"Broken up eight hundred years ago, broke up eight hundred years ago," Qing'er repeated, emphasizing my words. "Since we broke up eight hundred years ago, why did you appear when I was preparing to get married? Why?"

I didn't know that Qing'er was preparing to get married, but I couldn't give her any more hope. That would hurt both of us. "That time with McDull was purely a coincidence. If I had known, I wouldn't have gone up there."

Qing'er was clearly deeply hurt by my words and stood there blankly without making a sound. It took me a while to recover. "You hate me that much?"

"It's not a matter of hating or not hating, it's that I can't give you anything. I can't let you down again. I love my wife."

"You love your wife but you slept with her best friend." Qing'er sarcastically retorted. "It's not the same. She's different from you. If you love me, it's one hundred percent, but for her it's only half or even less. I can't give you that much back. Do you understand what I mean?"

"So you still have feelings for me. Why can't you give me a chance? Why can't you accept me?" Qing'er's words were unusually weak, revealing how hard and tiring her journey on this path of love had been.

"I'm married. I have a wife who loves me, and I love her too."

"I don't care. I've never given up on anything Qing'er wants."

I was stunned by the unwavering determination in Qing'er's declaration, which wasn't really a declaration. How could someone be so stubborn? "Qing'er, what's wrong with you? Is this still you? How did you become like this? Are you loving me or hurting me?"

My words clearly calmed Qing'er down from her stubbornness. She said softly, "Yes, Wang Feng, I've changed."

I was infected by the despair in Qing'er's voice. In fact, hadn't I changed too? I was speechless.

A long silence followed. When the background music inexplicably switched to "I Was a Fool," Qing'er laughed self-deprecatingly and said, "I was a fool, isn't that me?"

Then she calmly said to me, "Wang Feng, do you want to know why I've changed?"

"Tell me."

"Do you remember how you introduced yourself in our first class in seventh grade? You said your name was Shui Wangfeng, and many people liked to call you Royal Jelly. So be it. Royal jelly is sweet, not bitter. You had a faint, slightly shy smile on your clean, quiet face. You were wearing a white shirt, and I could almost smell the sunshine on it as I sat next to you." Qing'er was lost in her memories, a happy smile on her face, and her words were poetic because of her own presence. "Although the classmates laughed at the time, I thought to myself, this boy is so composed. He thinks that if he says it like that, others won't laugh at him too much. He's a smart and generous boy, cleverly defusing any potential future ridicule. The breeze that day ruffled your hair, and it also stirred my heart. I think that's when I started to like you. I would often make excuses to go to the bathroom and pass by the place where you played basketball to watch you play. I would often secretly observe your movements. When you got close to me, I would panic, like I was speechless. Sometimes I would pretend not to look at you, but my ears were constantly listening to your voice. I would also pretend not to understand and ask you questions. The happiest moment was when you asked me to bring your clothes back to the classroom after playing basketball. I was so happy that I barely slept all night. Later, people started laughing and saying we were a couple. Although I pretended to be angry, I was actually very happy and excited, but also incredibly embarrassed. You weren't angry; you just said, 'Don't talk nonsense.' I felt very disappointed." "I was so sad. I was afraid you'd stop talking to me. But then I realized you were still the same as before, and I thought you were really good to me. You even protected me so my classmates wouldn't laugh at me. Back then, every week when I had a break, I wanted to go back to school as soon as possible so I could see you. But I was too shy to talk to you. You always asked me to help you organize your books, and that made me happy too. If only we could stay young forever back then!"

Qing'er continued after taking a sip of coffee, "It's a pity you left after finishing the first semester of junior high. I thought about you every day, wondering how you were doing at your new school. Sometimes I thought maybe you'd transfer back next semester. I missed you so much, but I didn't dare tell anyone. Sometimes I'd ask around to see how you were doing. It's a pity you didn't come back, but I still remember your faint, slightly shy smile that day, and your white shirt. I thought I could date when I went to university, and I would definitely come to find you then." Qing'er's smile remained faint, occasionally tinged with a shy blush. Her speech was slow and even, as if she were recounting someone else's story from yesterday.

Qing'er paused. "When I was in the first semester of my senior year of high school, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. It cost a huge sum of money. Our family borrowed from all our relatives and friends, but we were still far from enough. A colleague of my aunt introduced me to an old man who said he'd give me a lot of money if I agreed to his proposal. I cried all night. That night, I so wished you could come and marry me like in 'A Chinese Odyssey,' wearing golden armor and riding on a colorful cloud. But no, you didn't. I didn't want to, I really didn't want to, sob... But I had no choice. If my mother really died, I would never forgive myself, sob sob..." Qing'er started crying as she spoke, her sobs extremely suppressed yet revealing her heart-wrenching anguish.

"Wang Feng, I know you actually know about this, but no matter how much you care, you've never asked me or said anything about me. So I've always thought you were a kind person, that you were protecting me. Actually, if only you had asked me sooner. Qing'er isn't that kind of shameful person. I want to tell you all this, but I don't know how to start. I really want to tell you that although Qing'er's body is tainted, her heart has always been pure. A boy named Shui Wang Feng will always live in her heart, and that has never changed." Qing'er looked at me with tears in her eyes.

The world is so despicable. Everyone seems to have a great interest in those vulgar scandals and actively spreads them, while turning a blind eye to some of the hidden secrets, even deliberately ignoring them. At least in my case with Qing'er, almost everyone only told me that Qing'er was being kept, but no one told me about the changes in Qing'er's family. If you could tell me everything, even if Qing'er and I are still destined to be apart, at least I could help her get out of the deepest pain in her heart sooner. Qing'er may not care about everyone else, but she will definitely care about my opinion. My seemingly well-intentioned protection and avoidance have actually put more pressure and burden on Qing'er. Alas, the world has misled me, and I have misled Qing'er!

Qing'er's words continued, "From that night at that old man's house, I told myself, Qing'er, you have to work hard, you have to persevere, don't fall into the trap of selling your body, don't sell the most precious gift you wanted to give to your loved one to someone else. I studied hard, I worked hard, everything I did was to avoid falling into that pathetic situation again. I changed, I tried to become stronger, but the ridiculous thing is that even though I have everything now, I still lost you." Qing'er

's words were like a sledgehammer hitting me hard. I didn't know if I had done something wrong. It seemed like I hadn't, yet it seemed like I had done something terribly wrong. If fate truly has these mysterious hands, I must admire its strangeness and cruelty. Under this invisible hand, who can escape its manipulation and impact? In this world of love and desire, we are never asked what we think before being captured and then dragged back. It seems no one can escape it.

"Qing'er, I'm sorry, I didn't know about these things. I...you...you loved me wrongly." I was a little incoherent. "Wrongly loved, no, maybe...as long as you love, it's wrong. Once you love, you're no longer relaxed and carefree. Once you love, you're no longer able to advance or retreat freely. Once you love, you'll be thinking about it constantly. Once you love, it will be on your mind the moment you fall asleep." Qing'er's words had a detached and otherworldly feel to them, full of Zen wisdom.

"No, it's my fault. If I had paid more attention to you before, if I had cared more about you, you wouldn't be in so much pain and having to force yourself to stay strong. Sigh," I sighed. "Recently, I read a collection of essays that keeps replaying in my mind: 'Meeting is either too late or too early.' I met you too early, before I knew how to love you. I met you too early, before I knew how to cherish you. Sigh, Qing'er, please forgive my impetuous youth for not cherishing you." "

I've also read Zhang Xiaoxian's 'A Kiss Suspended in Mid-Air,' and I don't know how she managed to write it. Never mind, let's not talk about it anymore, and let's not think about those things. Now that I've finally told you what I've always wanted to say in front of you, I feel relieved. I feel like I can let go. Ask me anything you want to ask," Qing'er smiled self-deprecatingly.

"Okay, I want to know why you found Romance?" This was indeed my biggest question. "It's a bit complicated. After we broke up, I didn't dare call your house. Although I did stake out your building, I never ran into you, and I wasn't too brave to do so. Then you started working, and I couldn't find you anymore. Then last year, I accidentally learned some hacking skills, so I hacked into your school's QQ account. Your school didn't seem to care much about this, so I found you easily. But I didn't dare add you directly, so I sent you an email with a Trojan horse in it. That's how I learned some of your secrets, like how you often browsed posts by someone called 'Someone Who Doesn't Understand Romance,' which meant you were very interested in her. With a little effort, I hacked into Romance's computer and discovered that her company had a collaboration with us. The rest was easy."

"No way, Qing'er, you're so scary. Didn't you already know I worked at my current company? Were you just faking it in the meeting room last time?"

"No, I'm also wondering why there's no work information on your computer."

"Oh, I forgot. Our company requires senior executives to have two lines of communication in this area. There's no company information on my home computer."

"No wonder."

"No wonder my foot! You know that's illegal! You can't spy on me anymore!"

"I learned this just to find you. I haven't done anything else. Besides, I've already told you everything."

Qing'er's words made me feel heavy-hearted again. Yes, it seems a bit out of place for a beautiful woman like Qing'er to learn those things. She's just trying her best to find me, the one she's been thinking about and longing for.

Seeing that I suddenly stopped talking, Qing'er smiled. "Okay, it's alright. Loving you has nothing to do with you. Besides, after saying all those things today, I feel much better. Maybe all these years of struggle were just because I wanted to tell you in person that the girl who loves you is pure and not bad. Now that I've said it, I feel relieved. I won't bother you anymore. Books often say that you have to let go of love for love, and that if you love someone, you want them to be happy. I also hope you will be happy in the future.

" "Me too. I also hope you will be happy in the future, Qing'er."

"Thank you, my dear first love. Do you want me to send you two messages? But you have to give me a goodbye kiss." It was clear that Qing'er had slowly emerged from the shadows in her heart, no longer stubborn but a little playful.

"Stop fooling around, what are the two pieces of news?"

"Okay, I'll tell you the news first. The first is that you don't need to worry about your beautiful lover, I won't give her any extra obstacles. The other is that your wife seems to have appeared at your school. She logged in with your account." "

Really? What was she doing at school?"

"I don't know. So, is it worth a goodbye kiss?" Qing'er continued to tease me. "Absolutely worth it." I went up and hugged Qing'er tightly, kissing her little mouth, completely ignoring what the other customers in the store thought of me. At this moment, I thanked all the gods and Buddhas in the sky with gratitude. They had relieved the depression in my youthful years and returned the beauty of my youthful years to me. I thanked God for bringing back the pure Qing'er. The Qing'er who is no longer stubborn will be happy. What could be happier than this?

(VII) The New Year's Eve with Fireworks

Fate is an incredibly wonderful thing. Someone once said, "I believe in fate. In the vast sea of people, there will always be someone whose feet are tied with the same red thread as mine. Even if it is mysterious, I firmly believe in its existence."

Fate is indeed a very mysterious thing. Its manifestations are varied and strange. It may be two people choosing the same book at the same time in the library, or it may be an unintentional glance on the street. My connection with the girl began with two umbrellas of the same color and pattern.

That evening, a light drizzle fell incessantly, the lingering mist carrying a slight chill. Having finished my noodles at the noodle shop, I snapped open my umbrella, ready to step outside. At the same time, the girl to my right, wearing a white coat, also snapped open her umbrella—the same white one with a delicate bamboo leaf pattern. We both noticed the other was using the same umbrella, like finding someone dressed identically in a crowd and exchanging a knowing smile or a slightly embarrassed one. We both smiled knowingly.

This smile was like a drop of honey falling into a still lake, rippling across my heart, sweet and fragrant. My mind was filled with the girl's delicate features and her flowing black hair. A desire to be close arose within me, but a fear of offending her and a sliver of reason kept me restrained, allowing me to smile and nod. The girl, with her good manners, nodded slightly in response and walked into the rain with her umbrella. I followed behind her. The rain and mist couldn't hide the faint fragrance she left behind; on the contrary, it seemed even more refreshing and invigorating. Slowly following behind her, secretly inhaling her lingering scent, I felt an unusual tranquility. I only wished this rainy road could last forever, just so I could slowly, slowly follow behind her…

After a short distance, the girl suddenly stopped and turned around, looking at me quietly with a slightly uneasy expression.

I could clearly sense her nervousness; she mistook me for a bad guy. I quickly said, “I’m a student from A University nearby. My name is Shui Wangfeng, or you can call me Lao Si. I’m the youngest in the dorm, fourth in line…” My usual eloquence seemed a bit incoherent, and I frantically pulled out my student ID, completely revealing my inner turmoil—alas, if we’re just strangers, why bother? If we’re just strangers, then we can be carefree.

After I finished speaking, the girl seemed a little embarrassed for suspecting my motives, and her expression visibly relaxed. "I'm also from A University, what year are you in?"

We chatted and strolled along like this. This was my destiny with the girl. That evening, I felt as warm as spring, and it felt like a tender tooth was sprouting from the soil in my heart, full of vitality.

"Ling'er, will you be my girlfriend? I think my roommates will be so envious of me." "Shui Wangfeng, I really envy your ability to have sweet dreams during the day, and I already said you can't call me Ling'er."

"Ling'er, do you think I should go to the noodle shop and become an apprentice, so I can cook noodles for you forever?" "Okay, okay... Pfft, no way, who wants you to cook noodles for me forever?"

"Ling'er, Ling'er, Ling'er, Ling'er." "You bad Shui Wangfeng, are you a broken record?"

"Ling'er, how about I become your boyfriend? You won't be ashamed then." "You bad guy, am I ashamed if I don't have a boyfriend? Don't run away, I'll beat you to death, you bad guy!" "Ah, I think I twisted my ankle. It's all your fault, you bad guy Shui Wangfeng." "Ling'er, it's all my fault. Does it hurt? Should I carry you to the infirmary?" "It really hurts. Okay, I'll give you a chance to carry me back." "Little Shuizi would be honored." That night, after treating the girl's sprained ankle, I took her back to her dormitory. I stood quietly downstairs, feeling worried about the girl's ankle injury but also excited to be able to be close to her. I was reluctant to leave for a long time. Suddenly, I received a message from the girl, saying that she was watching me from the balcony and was willing to give me a chance. At that moment, I screamed loudly and did a perfect backflip in excitement. I could still hear Ling'er's silvery laughter coming from the fourth-floor balcony. That laughter was more beautiful than any heavenly music. Ling'er waved at me, the faint light from her phone tracing a dazzling pattern of light, more beautiful than a rainbow.

"Ling'er, can I tell you another joke?" "You rascal, Shui Wangfeng, I won't listen, I won't listen!"

"Ling'er, really, I really will tell you a joke, it's not dirty." But all I got was a glare from the girl.

"Ling'er, I have to confess something to you. Yesterday, when you were asleep in the library, I secretly kissed your cheek." "I...I...I know."

"Ling'er, ..."

"Shui Wangfeng, ..."

*** *** *** ***

After getting information about the girl from Qing'er, I took the next available flight to the city where the school was located.

On the flight to school, and on the way there after disembarking, these seemingly long-forgotten memories played out in my mind like a movie: my first meeting with her, how I jokingly asked her to be my girlfriend, her laughter as she texted me on the fourth floor agreeing, the way she waved her phone on the balcony, and the sweet, flustered moment when I secretly kissed her in the library. All of these things replayed in a loop.

Finally, as I got out of the taxi in front of the noodle shop, I saw her sitting by the glass wall—our usual spot. She looked vacant and absent-minded.

Seeing her there filled me with a complex mix of emotions I couldn't express in words.

It was the peace and tranquility of finally finding her;

it was the sudden possession after years of longing;

it was the easy joy of finding her in the quiet of the night.

It was a feeling of distress at the slight weariness on her face,

a feeling of guilt and self-reproach at the hint of sadness in her eyes.

It was a feeling of unease and uncertainty about the choice she was about to face.

It was a sudden realization of my deep love for her, and an unwavering resolve to let her go

.

I hurriedly but unsteadily entered the shop. Even though I hadn't seen her for years, the proprietress recognized me. She pointed to the girl and made a "three" gesture, telling me that the girl had been there for three days. I nodded gratefully to the proprietress, walked up to the girl, and softly called out, "Girl."

The girl was jolted awake from her daze by my familiar voice calling her "Girl." Seeing it was me, she stared at me in shock, her face a mixture of surprise, shame, and anger, as if she were completely frozen in time.

She was probably shocked that I would find her here!

She was angry at my infidelity!

She was ashamed of the embarrassment she felt when she returned to her alma mater to reminisce about our innocent love and was discovered. Just like the shy expression on her face when I took her first kiss. Just like the shy blush when I turned around and found her staring at me with a smile.

The girl quickly recovered from her complex emotions, got up, pushed me away, and tried to run away. I grabbed her left arm tightly with both hands: "Girl, don't go." Holding

her arm, she released all the pent-up anger and resentment within her, hitting my shoulder hard with her hands, crying out, "Bad guy, bad guy, why did this happen, why did this happen, why???"

I was speechless, and could only hold her tightly in my arms. She twisted and tried to escape, still hitting me with her hands and crying, "Why did you do this to me? Why? Why???"

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