Her husband was eating at a restaurant, so I secretly went into her room.

Hurt me ...
One day in October, the boss brought many people back. Some we had met before, some were definitely here for the first time. I knew they were going to
slowly move around here today, touching her thigh, placing their hands on her thigh, looking at her expression, gently rubbing it. We were still working then, and the boss and his accomplices were playing cards (Dou Dizhu) until after 7 pm. Our business was also
in trouble. Everything is difficult at the beginning. I don't know what happened that time, I remember the text message you sent me. I trusted you so much, and I treated you well, why
did finish? Because it was a private company, there weren't many people at home. We all helped Sister Xia cook, and we started eating around 8 pm.
Maybe she was tired from working all day, so she didn't sit at the table, but left a bowl of rice on the side, ate it, and went to rest. We guys just sat there
drinking. Dinner was around 9 pm, and since we didn't want to leave like that, we said we'd go to Jiazhen's house to play some more. A group of big men, 8 or 9... I was just a kid.
We started playing cards around a table... As we played, I thought of Sister Xia. Maybe I've always had some feelings for her. I told them I needed help and went upstairs
. Of course, I had already taken off my underwear. I put her hand on my penis. Because I had just ejaculated, my penis was still half-erect. Her little hand was cold.
I looked at the clothes Sister Xia had changed out of in the bathroom. That day, I wasn't sure if I had drunk too much or something, but I was very aroused. I came out of the bathroom and looked at
the light coming from Sister Xia's room. I hesitated at the door, wanting to go in but not knowing what excuse to use, and afraid that someone would come up. I struggled at the door for a while and then went downstairs. The more I thought about it,
the more . I told them I was tired and would go upstairs to sleep. I was younger, so they didn't say anything when I left early. After going upstairs, I looked at Sister Xia through the crack in the door.
She was sleeping in there, but I didn't dare to go in. My heart was pounding. Finally, under the influence of alcohol, I pushed open the door and went in. I slowly walked to her bedside.
My father waved. The bus reached its final stop, and Wen finally woke up. Rubbing her swollen eyes, she guessed she might have fallen asleep. I tried to call her
, gradually increasing the pressure. Seeing she didn't resist, I grew bolder and took my hands up, my hands trembling. Slowly, I placed my hands on
her nightgown, and she cooperated by raising her head, allowing me to easily remove it. I lowered my head, sucking on her breasts, my hips still thrusting.
I dared not... I placed it on her, and slowly ran my fingertips lightly across her face, constantly watching her expression. Perhaps it was because of her calm
face that I gradually grew bolder. I pressed my face against hers and kissed her face, but as I kissed her lips, I couldn't help but stick out my tongue and lick
her. I saw her head twitch, which startled me so much that I immediately got up, picked up the lighter by her bedside, and then, without knowing what she mumbled, went back to sleep
. I stood under the lamplight, arms crossed over my chest. "He just wants to find a girl like you to chat with; some people have that hobby. You can chat with him for a while. I'm a little
ticklish and haven't dared to get close to her waist. I touched her breasts through her nightgown. So soft, not the firm kind described in the military manual, very soft, very soft. I didn't think there was anything there
. Looking at my watch, it had been more than half an hour. I just put on my underwear and slipped into Sister Xia's room. It
was like a west, because she was lying on her side, one breast pressed against the bed. My hand could completely control the other side. Slowly, I rubbed her breast..." She blinked
, and I was so startled I immediately pulled my hand away. Before I could even stand up, her eyes opened, and she looked at me, suddenly showing a frightened,
tearful expression. I quickly grabbed the lighter I was holding and said, "There were so many mosquitoes in the room. They took the lighter while playing cards. I came in to borrow a light,
and I didn't wake you because you were asleep." She still had that same expression. I said, "Sister Xia, be good, don't cry, don't cry." As I said this, I lowered my head and cupped her face in my hands. I touched her forehead with
my own , and she buried her head under the covers. She shrank back, looked at me, and I immediately went out, but left the door open.
I stood behind the door, my heart pounding, panting heavily, looking at my hands, imagining the smooth feel of them. I ran to the bathroom, grabbed Xia Jie's underwear, and
without saying a word, crossed my legs and smoked heavily. This made Wen feel incredibly awkward. After finishing two cigarettes, the man also opened up and chatted with her quite congenially. Wen
masturbated, and thick white semen all over the underwear. I stood under the showerhead, the water washing over my body, but my wicked soul kept thinking about what had just happened
. Every thrust sent shivers down Xia Jie's spine, and each withdrawal brought forth a large amount of fluid, making a squelching sound. "Ah...oh...woo..."
She wanted to go in again, but what excuse could she use this time? Looking at the flickering lights outside the window, I felt like a cigarette. Gritting my teeth, I forcefully stubbed out the cigarette, wiped it dry, turned
around, and turned off the light. In the pitch-black night, you all know what I mean, right? I pretended to be very calm as I walked to the bedside and sat down beside her
. At this moment, my heart was very important, but I was blinded by desire. She pulled the covers up, and I moved closer to Lang Lingqing. I got into her blanket as I wished.
Looking at her sleeping face, my palms sweated with impulsiveness. I just stood there, watching, afraid to move. Slowly, I steeled myself and placed my hand on her blanket. Seeing her
back to me, I turned around and gently placed my hand on her waist. She mumbled something, turned to face me, and buried her head in my chest. I touched
the tear stains on her cheek and saw a patch of messy, bright red blood on the sheet. I knew it was her virginity blood. Her hymen had been torn. The fluid flowed out.
I slowly stroked her buttocks, burying my head in her hair. She smelled so good. Because she was sleeping on her side, her nightgown was already very short. My hand
went directly from her buttocks to inside her clothes, squeezing her breasts and gently rubbing them. Seeing that she didn't resist, or perhaps she thought it was her husband, my courage gradually grew
, and I kept an eye on her expression. I pinched her back with my fingers, and it really got hard; I could feel it slowly hardening. Maybe I was too impulsive, and I used too much force. Seeing
her pull me into her arms, she twisted... I held her there for a moment, not moving, and waited. Time seemed to drag on. Soon, I heard her heavy
breathing ; perhaps she was too tired. My hands slowly began to move. I still loved her breasts; they felt so good to squeeze. I slowly moved her hands down to her buttocks, where
they were cool, and grasped my penis. Her small hands squeezed it, and my penis involuntarily became erect. I couldn't help but move my penis between her legs, gently touching her buttocks. She gently
pushed me away, saying no, but I ignored her. I took her hands and placed them on my waist... My penis rubbed against her entrance, and she whispered, "Shangao,
no , I'm tired, I want to sleep." I ignored her and gently placed my penis on her breast. She involuntarily moaned and groaned against my body.
Suddenly, she pushed me away like a madwoman, asking me in a tearful voice who I was. I froze, remaining silent, just holding her tightly, my lower body continuing to thrust. She
cried out , "Who are you, who are you…?" I thrust in hard, and she cried out, "Ah!" I continued to thrust hard, and she struggled, saying, "You are…"
"Little Liu, get down, get down, sob sob..." She cried so sadly. But I was like a demon, just moving silently, bending down to
kiss her face, licking her face with my tongue, my mouth tasted salty, her face was full of tears. I held her and thrust, "Ah, no, no... oh..." Her
resistance to me weakened, because I had already masturbated and still hadn't felt like ejaculating. Each thrust was accompanied by
a soft Sister Xia even cooperated by slightly raising her waist. As my hand moved, her breathing became heavier and heavier. My right hand climbed up her breasts, causing her to constantly change
shape. Sister Xia closed her eyes tightly, desperately enduring the waves of pleasure brought by "my" invasion, her mouth and nose emitting suppressed moans. I wanted to pull off her
... no, oh. "Good girl...you...oh..." Just then, Sister Xia reached her climax, and streams of hot, lustful fluid poured onto my penis. Feeling her vagina tighten and contract, I held her hot, post-orgasmic body, lying against her. My penis was still hard, pressing against her flower path. "Oh...
good girl...let me rest...rest a little...oh...so full...oh...gently...gently..." Although there was a lot of lubrication,
Sister Xia engorged penis still struggled to move in and out. I could only thrust in and out slowly, one deep and one shallow stroke. Before long, Sister Xia quickly
recovered from her climax, hugging my back, cooperating with my movements. She had given up struggling. I pulled her up, letting her sit on my lap, and I
thrust upwards, so I could see her breasts rubbing against my chest. I kissed her, and she passionately met my kiss, her tongue leaving a trail of
saliva in her mouth. I thrust upwards with all my might, panting heavily. Each time I entered, I pushed my penis deep into her core, squeezing out copious amounts of fluid. "Splash, splash," water
sprayed everywhere. Sister Xia also gasped softly. "Oh, oh, goodness, it's coming again..." She first tensed her body, her toes pointed, and then after a long gasp,
she slumped onto my shoulder, letting me continue thrusting. "Is it good?" I asked Sister Xia as I increased the force of my thrusts. "Oh...oh...
good...good...ah...don't...don't ejaculate on Langlingqing, today...is the fertile period," Sister Xia gasped, only able to murmur softly. "Ah...
go, but this time I was a little involuntary. It seems there's a lot of unfinished work waiting for her to do at home. Wen took out her key to open the door, only to find it locked from the inside. She had no choice but
to linger with me, letting her semen spurt out, spraying towards Xia Jie's clitoris, mixing with her vaginal fluids, merging together.
After we finished, I held her in my arms as we lay on the bed, and I played with her breasts. Her hands were pressed against my chest, and she cried silently again. I watched her trembling
shoulders. When she slowly calmed down, I whispered in her ear, 'I'm sorry, I ejaculated all over Langling.'" "I'm done." She silently looked up at me,
her gaze distant and empty. She turned her head away, refusing to look at me. I glanced at her, slowly got up, put on my underwear, and left... Back in my room, I lay there, savoring the moment, hoping for
another chance. Just then, my phone rang. I picked it up and saw a text from Xia Jie: "I trusted you so much, and I treated you so well, why did you hurt me?" I
stared at my phone, my heart aching. Back when she wore black nail polish, she was quietly painting her lips and nails at school. Later, fashion magazines said that this look was outdated,
so she switched to a more youthful style. Whenever a singer held a concert at the stadium, she would queue overnight to buy tickets and scream hysterically at the venue. When Bi received
her first love letter , she was both sweet and terrified. Later, Bi also started meticulously applying makeup every night, going to those gloomy corners to meet her boyfriend. Seeing
couples kissing everywhere on the street, Bi allowed her boyfriend to be intimate with her. When her boyfriend encouraged Bi to give herself to him for love, she did, though she wasn't
entirely sure if she loved him back. When her boyfriend said, "You're too good for me, it makes me think we're not a good match," Bi, like the heroine in a movie, slapped
him hard. Bi was heartbroken and cried for a long time in her bedroom. She decided to fast, so she stopped eating for three days as a sign of mourning. Later, after listening to Qi's
advice, Bi decided it wasn't worth it for such a man and went out to find someone better. To Wen, Bi's life was like flowing water, always finding its
place. Wen wondered when Bi lost her virginity. Was it after watching a pornographic film at her boyfriend's house? Perhaps from that time on, Bi wasn't
a virgin anymore. Qi made Wen feel very disappointed. Qi couldn't remember when her hymen broke, nor the man's name. She only remembered it was
after a wild night at the disco. She remembered the floor shaking so badly her legs went numb, and the music so loud it made her feel deaf. She remembered the beer that night was refreshing and
thirst-quenching , and she remembered a burning sensation from her lower abdomen to her throat that night, so she wasn't cold even though she was naked. She remembered the man's distorted face
, which she found hilarious, but she didn't remember his name. However, she remembered the pain she felt. When Qi woke up, everyone had left. Exhausted, she
went home to shower. She desperately wanted to talk to someone, but didn't know what to say. So she sat alone. Later, she completely erased that man's name from her memory.
"Is it important?" Qi asked. She squinted and lit a cigarette. Smoke filled the bedroom instantly, obscuring everything. Wen wouldn't be that foolish. Wen
wouldn't casually give her virginity to any boy; Wen didn't trust anyone. Wen wouldn't stand helplessly in the rain late at night, nor would
she close the windows and turn on the gas on a sorrowful afternoon. Wen wouldn't foolishly weep in bed with a pillow, or like a madwoman, chewing on a shovel and
running around the room with a kitchen knife. Wen wouldn't even take a pleasant shower and then stand on the balcony spitting down, "Pah, what's that?" Wen would
sit comfortably on the soft sofa in the living room, leaning back with a footstool. Wen would open the doors and windows, letting the lazy sunlight bathe
her. Wen slightly opened her eyes, looking at the man before her. "Is it okay?" "That man said." Wen smacked her lips and made an "OK" sign. She
unzipped her pants and took out the device, handing it to him. He nodded and accepted it, exchanging it with a small, magical box. Turning around,
it vanished from her life with a swift movement. Wen thought her virginity was destined to be lost, and before it was, she wanted to be its master. Wen finished folding her paper crane. It lay on the dressing
table , neck raised, eager to fly, but its wings were weak. So Wen let it lie there temporarily, letting it sigh gently in the wind. Folding this kind of paper crane is simple, but
folding it with a napkin is difficult. Wen loved to eat. Wen thought the white fibers on napkins were like the downy feathers of a crane—delicate, soft, and warm. Only Wen
could fold napkins; it required patience and skill. Wen folded only one at a time. It stood there proudly, truly a
lifelike work of art. It was easily destroyed. Wen touched her cheek; the blush had faded. Wen circled the bedroom, picked up
a fashion magazine from Ying's bed, and stopped in front of the mirror. The reflection looked like a beautiful, perpetually youthful girl from an anime, with an innocent and childlike face. Wen opened the magazine and discovered…
Her gaze became strange; for the first time, Wen saw the contents behind the magazine. She realized that the models in the magazine weren't virgins. Their voices were
dry and hoarse, like a rusty hacksaw. Wen could only swallow repeatedly, her mouth almost blistering, but gradually it became natural. After the man sat down, he immediately
used the items they wanted to exchange. Wen remembered how back in school, those girls always liked to viciously call each other "shameless little bitches."
Now, they swayed their slender waists and only mocked each other with discrimination, calling each other "unwanted old maids."Wen understood. Wen had a kind of unspoken understanding of virginity. So that's how it is. A shy thought arose in Wen's mind: what exactly does a hymen look like? Is it like a thin sheet of paper? A piece of gold foil? Or a piece of white jade? Thinking of this, Wen
carefully took off her clothes. Slowly, she carefully looked at her body from top to bottom in the mirror. Wen's figure was well-maintained. Wen truly loved herself.
Yes, she felt a little ashamed and embarrassed, and her face began to burn. Wen hesitated for a moment, then, with a small round diaper, sneakily slipped into the bathroom. Wen, panting, felt
a strange sensation in her body. She looked at herself, her body contorted with unease. Then, someone, with a glint in their eye, carelessly tossed a small mirror into a trash bag. The next day, Wen woke up to a completely different world. It was as if the world
had been stripped , were a different
story at night. Wen boarded the number 17 bus, driven by a volatile female driver. As she walked past her, she wondered if she
would become gentle when making love with her husband that night. Wen sat alone in the middle of the bus, arms crossed, thinking the eyes of the men around her were all inappropriate. They
stared through the windows at the huge posters on the street, their minds filled with vulgar fantasies about the protruding breasts of the female celebrities on the posters. In Wen's opinion,
men didn't necessarily prefer women with hymens; they preferred the glamorous type. In Wen's eyes, those female celebrities were all ordinary. They simply wore
false eyelashes, thick foundation, heavy makeup, and took a very artistic photo. Of course, their figures were all decent, but Wen wasn't bad either. Although
Wen didn't look as sexy as them, it was only because Wen didn't have a high-end bra or magic lingerie. Humph, nothing special. The bus
turned left at the street corner ahead, and Wen quickly shifted her gaze to the clothing boutique at the intersection. There was a red, form-fitting trench coat over there. Wen tried it on, and its flattering cut and elegant
texture really appealed to her. Her gaze quickly swept over all the trench coats in the window. Wen sighed. That cost over five hundred yuan. The clothing store had previously been
a bridal shop, and she could vaguely see two couples busily trying on wedding dresses. Wen wondered if those two girls had hymens. Are
there more girls with hymens before marriage, or more without? However, whether those two girls had hymens or not, they would still get married. So the question was meaningless.
Whether their married life was happy or not would only be related to their sex life, not their hymens. Wen thought that a young girl's virginity was too
fragile , too easily lost, which terrified her. For example, her hymen might be lost in the process of running, wrestling, doing the splits, or playing soccer—
for example, by believing a boy's sweet talk, and being taken advantage of. Or, for example, by being targeted by someone powerful. This person could be
her teacher in charge of her studies, a corrupt police officer in charge of her safety, her boss in charge of her career, or a relative in charge of her life… They could all
angrily shove her arm away. "Who do you think you are? A prostitute. A shameless bitch, you're trying to blackmail me!" "No." Wen's scream was like a silver needle
piercing her, forcibly taken away. Even if she overcomes these difficulties, what then? She still has to talk about love, get married, and have children. It is an obstacle to her life. She has to give it up
some night, and the man will at most exclaim in surprise, "So you're a virgin," but he certainly won't be a virgin. How boring. Wen
got off the bus at the riverbank. She was originally going to go to school to pick up her report card, but she changed her mind. [The rest of the text appears to be unrelated and possibly machine-generated gibberish.] It reached Wen's buttocks. Wen turned around with lightning speed and slapped him. The man covered his face, frozen in embarrassment. Wen, head down, ran
away quickly. This world was truly too dangerous; Wen wished she could put a lock on her hymen. Wen sat down on the riverbank. Below her was a large slope overgrown with
weeds. Further down were fine sand like coffee powder and river mud as hard as chocolate. Further down was the churning, murky river water. You couldn't see the origin of each wave
, nor could you distinguish their components. Snowmelt, rainwater, spring water, muddy water, urine, sewage, wastewater—all mingled together indiscriminately,
so magnificent, so imposing. The water surged and flowed in one direction without stopping. Going to school was really unnecessary; whether she passed the exam or not, getting a certificate or not
wouldn't help. Wen didn't aspire to go to any prestigious university; she just wanted to graduate as soon as possible. Wen knew that Ying would definitely pass, and Bi and Qi would probably pass too,
even though With just one glance from Ying, all the boys around would rush to pass her notes, even the proctors
turned a blind eye. Qi said it was called survival of the fittest. Wen thought to herself, it didn't matter. She was already tired of school. She got up, took out a
cosmetic box from her backpack, and opened it. She took out the paper cranes she had folded yesterday morning. "Fly!" Wen said. She placed the paper crane in her palm, shouted "Hey!", jumped up, and
threw it forcefully into the air. The paper crane was caught in the river wind, tumbled awkwardly, landed on the grass, and rolled quickly down the embankment, getting covered in
dirty mud before falling into the yellowish-brown river water. "The wind was too strong," Wen said. "Next time I should fold a better one." Wen frowned mischievously and
walked towards the other side of the river embankment. Wen wondered if she should go home. Looking around, she found no iQiyi phone booths, which disappointed her. Wen thought that when
she had money, she would buy a cell phone. Although she hadn't decided on a model yet, she liked the small, delicate kind without antennas. She would weave a beautiful colorful
Chinese knot for it and make a cute cartoon phone case. She had skillful hands; she would make it unique. Wen decided to just go home, although she really didn't want to. She
slowly tapped the zither, and after more than a minute, Lang Lingqing still hadn't responded. Wen wasn't in a hurry. After another minute, her father, dressed in his underwear, looking disheveled, opened
his head and sat in the living room. "Aren't you going to school?" her father asked. "It's the holidays." "Oh," her father hummed in agreement. A
woman . "Call her Auntie," her father said with a slight smile. "Who cares?" Wen turned away, thinking that this woman was old and had a big belly.
How could her father not feel disgusted sleeping with her? She hesitated for a second.
Wen got up and went into the bathroom. There was a large mirror in the bathroom. Wen turned on the vanity light and looked at her face, which had a rosy glow and tiny downy hairs under the light. For the first
time, she realized she looked like an unopened flower bud. Wen took off her pink jacket, the curves of her small breasts faintly visible. Wen admired herself contentedly for a moment, then took off
her jeans. With each piece of clothing she removed, Wen carefully examined herself. Wen had never noticed how beautiful she was before. Finally, Wen had seen enough. She opened the door and walked out
naked . The two people in the living room jumped up. "What's wrong?"
Wen asked her father. "Wen, are you crazy?" her father shouted. "What's the big deal?" Wen said. Wen twirled gracefully on the spot,
a shimmering . "Pretty, isn't it?" Her father cracked his knuckles, a little flustered. "Pretty," Wen answered for herself. A
smile appeared on Wen's face as she picked up her clothes and put them on in front of her father. She grabbed her backpack, rushed out of the house, slammed the door shut, and jumped into a
bus that was about to leave. Then she saw her father, wearing a coat, running towards her along the road. "Bye-bye, Dad," Wen said, glancing casually through the bus window
and dialing her cousin's number. "I'm exhausted right now, come over later," her cousin said. Wen hung up the phone, went into the store, and prepared to buy a pack of face cream.
…Ah…I'm going to cum…" At this moment, how could a man give up halfway and return empty-handed? I'd long forgotten about the danger period.
She reached into her pocket, felt for the money, counted it with her finger, and then decided to just forget about it. She found a small restaurant, ordered a three-
yuan of beef noodles, and sat down in a clean corner. She started calculating how much her training sessions could fetch. Wen wanted that red, tight-fitting trench coat;
it really looked good on her. A pair of blue designer jeans might also suit her well. She still had shoes, so she didn't need them for now. But Wen needed a set of high-quality underwear. Her cosmetics were almost
finished; she wanted to get a famous brand this time. Wen didn't know how much it would cost; it was unusual for her to think about buying such high-end items. Wen also wanted to take a trip out
of town ; she'd never been on a long trip before. Wen wanted to fold a paper crane and throw it into the sea of clouds at Huangshan, where the clouds resembled layers of silk and flowers. Wouldn't it fly away? Like a drop of
pure water merging into a heavenly pool, it would dissolve in the milky-colored clouds. It would float freely in the sky, its wings large yet light. This would be
quite expensive. Right, a phone. Wen wanted to buy a cell phone; most of her classmates had one, and she should have one too. Maybe it could cover her tuition until graduation and
when she found a job. That way, she could be completely independent. Wen also wanted to save some money; it would make her feel more secure. Perhaps it would be great if she could buy a house. Wen shook her head and smiled
, abandoning this unrealistic fantasy. "That's it then?" Wen said, "I'll save the rest." Wen perked up, finished her noodles, and skipped out
, wandering aimlessly along the commercial street paved with anti-slip tiles. I walked past the brightly lit shop windows, observing
the colorful street scenes and blurry figures reflected in the glass. "Do you want a virgin?" Wen bent down and winked at her own reflection. "Think it over." "Okay." "The first
time , two or three thousand." My cousin said. She leaned against the folded blankets on the headboard, a cigarette dangling from her lips, admiring the colorful nail polish on her fingers, which seemed to be
peeling off. The curtains in the room were not drawn, and the few rays of light that came in were like wisps of smoke, making it hard to breathe. Wen sat upright in the only chair, knees together, and
said, "You can go now, the mountain will be coming up soon." I was only then awakened; her husband was still standing there, pounding his lip. I wanted to kiss her one last time, and she turned to let me kiss
her, her hands crossed on her wrists, trembling slightly. "What?" "About two or three thousand, depending on the situation..." After my cousin finished speaking, she used her right fingernail to dig at the dirt in
her left fingernails, doing it very carefully. I didn't notice that Wen had lost control; the candlelight in her eyes had dimmed into a ghostly flame.
As she slumped into the chair, I looked at the lighter in my hand, finding an excuse for myself. I hardened my heart, squatted down beside her bed, and slowly put my hand under the covers. I didn't dare move at first
. "These days, those roadside prostitutes are fucking cheap, only 50 yuan a time.""There are so many people doing this." After picking at the nail crevices of her left hand, her cousin switched to
digging at her right hand with her left. Two thousand yuan, Wen smiled bitterly. It was getting dark. She pricked up her ears and heard the sycamore tree outside the door constantly crying out for water. It groaned, shaking off
the tubes that pierced her, going up along the red channel, occupying her heart, growing bigger and bigger. They sucked her into a dried-up mummy, then pulled her away with all their might,
dragging her into the ground like a pile of garbage. Two thousand yuan. A hymen is equivalent to a mobile phone. Less than a square meter of housing. Also equivalent to two months' salary for Dad.
Four tight-fitting trench coats. Or two one-way tickets. The annual income of a rural family. Two tables of food and drinks spent by government officials with public funds or four pheasants on the street.
Zero sexual intercourse. ...When Wen came to her senses, her cousin was already gone. Her cousin had talked to her for a long time before leaving, but she couldn't remember anything. Wen didn't know when
she had sat down on the ground. She wondered why she hadn't been eaten by those tree roots yet. So she got up and kicked the bed frame hard. "Store it all." "
Wen muttered to herself. She drew back the curtains and opened the window, letting in some of the cool evening air. The light streaming in immediately revealed the room's mess and
filth. Wen frowned and cleaned the room thoroughly. The sheets were remade, and the blankets were folded neatly. Her cousin had left behind an unsightly apple, which she washed and placed
on the bedside table. Wen also took out a small bottle of free sample perfume and sprayed it all over the house. Wen stretched her limbs, feeling much better.
Suddenly, she remembered that the dirty rubber object she had swept out from under the bed might be a condom, and a wave of nausea washed over her. She then sat down on the chair..." My cousin moved outside and sat
by the door, breathing in the fresh air. According to her, a man might be coming tonight. When her cousin returned, she was by the window, peeling apples with a
long thin knife. Thin apple peels fell continuously into the plate, forming concentric circles that expanded and then contracted. A napkin
folded up, slowly sliding her underwear down. Her hand reached down and grasped mine. My heart raced. I wrapped my other arm around her neck, placed
the paper crane on the tallest apple, and silently gazed at her. "He just wants to talk to me." My cousin glanced at the snow-white
paper crane, circled the room, sat on the bed, and smiled. "It smells nice." My cousin wrinkled her nose and casually flicked the ash onto the apple. Wen put the apple down
. A strange terror followed the darkness and quietly descended. Pairs of unpredictable eyes sneered in the shadows outside the window. Wen's breathing became heavy. She quickly pulled the window shut.
"Fifty yuan, a whore's money can't be burned." My cousin cleared her throat and spat on the ground. "All the money you earn is yours. Just
come and see me often." After saying that, my cousin smoothed Wen's hair with her hand and turned to leave. Wen's heart skipped a beat. She grabbed her cousin's arm and pressed it against her chest.
"There's nothing to be afraid of," her cousin said, patting her on the shoulder. "He's just chatting. Everything's agreed upon. If he wants something, it'll be three thousand yuan. If he tries anything violent,
just yell. You have to know how to protect yourself in this line of work." Her cousin handed Wen a small red rubber bag. Wen had no choice but to let go and let her cousin leave. Wen
drifted in the night like a lost boat. What did that man look like? Wen only hoped he was younger and didn't look so sleazy; perhaps that would be enough for her
. When the man first came in, Wen's expression was relatively calm, though her face was very red. Her cousin went out and locked the door behind her, indicating that everyone would be safe that way. The man
took off his suit jacket and hung it behind the door, smiled, and said he had drunk a little and his face was flushed. Wen's heart pounded, and her neck and shoulders began to ache; she felt extremely
uncomfortable . The man lit a cigarette, looked around, picked up the tray containing the unsightly cigarette butt, flicked the cigarette butt with his thumb, and some
ash fell from the large cigarette. Wen thought, everything is like that. It's never easy at the beginning, but later you get used to it and it doesn't matter. For example, when Wen spoke her first sentence, the sound
was probably due to the lighting. The pale, thin light bulb on the ceiling now looked ambiguous, the green lampshade cold and covered in dust. That soft
light could turn everything in the room into an illusion. A loud bang would come, and they would all disappear in an instant, leaving you lying on the grass, in bed,
or in some sofa chair, your eyes dimly open. The man frankly said he was an expert in the underworld. Two years ago, every time he went to another city for business, he would find a place to have a
wild time. After the divorce, he became indifferent to it. He spread his hands, looking like he had seen it all, lit another cigarette, and said he had a
five-year-old daughter. He even gestured with his hand to indicate the height of the child on the ground, then pointed at the imaginary child's head and said, "She's very talkative and
always sticking to me." These actions left a mark on Wen's heart; at least he was an honest and loving man. Wen thought, spending her life with a man like that
wouldn't be bad. So when the man took off Wen's clothes, Wen simply closed her eyes. Wen had been arrogant since her freshman year; the conversation was just a prelude, and
all of was bound to happen. At this moment, were the pop singers' concerts in full swing? Were they waving glow sticks enthusiastically? Was that tight red trench coat
still there on the street? Had it been bought without a second thought by the girl with the phone? Were those good kids at home eating tea and snacks, commenting on the celebrities on TV?
An unknown actress stripped naked on the director's bed and asked, "Could you give me more shots of me, both naked and in the background?" Wen forgot to remind the man to wear a mask.
At this moment, the man gently brushed aside Wen's long hair and blew air into Wen's ear.Wen's nipples were gently nestled between the man's fingers. He cupped her breasts with his entire palm,
beginning to gently knead them, his fingertips gliding along the edges of her breasts in caress. To prepare for sufficient foreplay, he caressed Wen's breasts with his left hand while simultaneously stimulating her
clitoris with his right. At this moment, Wen closed her eyes, her face flushed, and she let out a sweet, rare moan. The man kissed Wen's forehead, her lips, her neck,
her dew-like nipples, and her sea-like clitoris. Wen experienced even greater pleasure; her lower body was already wet. A fiery moon rose. At this moment, Wen
saw that the spiderweb in the corner of the wall had broken, one corner had collapsed, and it was dangling in mid-air. She heard a glass vase shatter on the floor with a crisp sound. The huge
sycamore tree outside had fallen, crashing onto the roof, causing the entire room to collapse. Wen was struck by lightning, her mind going completely black. A sharp pain shot through her, and
Wen screamed in agony, biting the man's shoulder as she cried. In that moment, Wen saw herself shattered into pieces, falling around a deep pool. Her limbs grew into
towering coconut trees laden with heart-shaped fruits, her breasts became soft hills, and her hair, like tender willow branches, spread across the crystalline sand that her body had transformed into. A chubby, naked child,
carrying a bucket full of seashells, wobbled back and forth on the sandy shore. The child would sometimes charge, sometimes retreat, and Wen would gently tickle him with strands of her hair, laughing
as she tightly embraced him. At that moment, a dazzling golden sun shone before them, bathing everything in its crimson light. Wen
ran towards the sun with perfect form, and saw herself sitting on white, hairy clouds… pairs of little angels with wings flew around her. Wen saw withered yellow leaves glistening with dew beneath the clouds
, their roots greedily extending beneath the earth. They silently reached her feet, piercing her soles, entwining her veins. They were like a vast
expanse of blue blood, green grass, rolling across the sky, stretching ever into the distance. Wen walked across the grass, leaving clear, snow-like footprints. Warm spring water gushed from these
footprints , overflowing into small, deep pools. Wen saw herself flying into a sea of clouds as white as fresh milk… wishing the dream would never end. The man's
rough thrusts finally exploded within Wen, spilling a large jar of paste. The man slowly climbed off Wen, put on his clothes, and said, "So tight,
so enjoyable." Wen opened her swollen eyes, looking at the rooftop, where an old mosquito swatted its wings and flew around. It had been a long time since she had felt so satisfied. "Why aren't there any dragonflies? Semi-transparent wings, big eyes, red stripes on their bodies. Or butterflies, colorful, dancing in flocks. Kingfishers, red beaks, green feathers, plunging into the water like arrows. Swans, spotless
, like a ball of snow. Now, all that flies around are ugly machines." "Open the door, I'm leaving," the man said. Wen turned around, touching her face. Wen felt an unbearable cold and loneliness, Wen felt she had lost everything. With her last bit of strength, Wen grabbed the man's shoulder. "What are you doing? " "You can't leave." Wen's expression was ashen, her lips trembling violently. "You have to marry me, you have to marry me!" "What?" The man shouted in disbelief, piercing Wen's eardrums. "What? You're not my friend ! ... "You little bitch, listen to me. You're here to sell yourself, I'm here to have fun. You're just a prostitute, are n't you?" He slammed the door shut. "You're back?" "Yes, I'm back." Wen threw her backpack on the sofa, regretting her return. She had no choice but to remain silent, her hands on the bed. "No, you can't leave. You have to marry me." She jumped up, half-kneeling, tightly hugging the man's legs. "I don't want money, I'm very capable, I can do anything, really." "Get lost." The man yelled. "What the hell are you, a virgin? A prostitute. Pretty convincing, huh? Take the money, and..."

"I'll find a place to repair my hymen while I'm still young and can sell it as much as I can. You think you can fool me? Dream on." "No, I'm real. I'm a real virgin!" Wen
roared , grabbing the money from
the bedside table and slamming it against the man's head. The banknotes struck his forehead, scattering like leaves from a sycamore tree. Enraged, the man raised his hand and slapped Wen across the face. Wen's frail body slammed against the bedside table, hearing a cacophony of objects falling and crashing.
Blood trickled from Wen's mouth, salty. Wen's head exploded, pieces scattering on the floor; her body was hollow, like a porcelain doll filled with coins, only
a few fragments swaying in the breeze. Wen grabbed a saucer and threw it frantically at the man, screaming desperately, "You're lying! I'm a virgin! I'm a real virgin!"
"Go to hell!" The man rushed over and grabbed Wen's hair. At that moment, Wen reached for the knife and plunged it into the man's chest. The man released his grip
. The night instantly became eerily quiet. Wen lost her hearing in that instant. Time froze; that second stretched infinitely into Wen's life. Breathing
stopped, and terror rapidly swelled within Wen's body. Wen pulled the knife out. Time, like dredged water, began to flow again, and the man screamed in terror
. For example, she might be raped in the woods at night. For example, when drinking with a boy, there might be sleeping pills in her drink.
A gush of blood spurted from the spot where the knife had been pulled out, splattering onto Wen's face. Her cousin frantically opened the door and saw Wen sitting naked, her face covered in blood,
muttering to herself, "Really, I'm a real virgin… a real virgin." "Wen cried as a large, unsightly knife fell to the ground with
a clatter. Wen saw the paper crane lying beside the bed like a used tissue, trampled beyond recognition by someone's foot
. Half of the crane was soaked in blood. Qi only remembered it was after a wild night at the disco. Qi remembered the floor shaking so badly her legs went numb, and the music so loud it made her feel deaf. Qi remembered the beer that night was refreshing and thirst-quenching; Qi remembered a fire burning from her dantian to her throat that night, so she wasn't cold even though she was naked. Qi remembered the man's face being distorted and she found it funny, but Qi didn't remember his name. However, Qi remembered that she was in a lot of pain." When Qi woke up, everyone had left. Qi was exhausted, so she went home to take a shower. Qi desperately wanted to talk to that person, but she didn't know what to say. Qi just sat there alone. Later, Qi completely erased that person's name from her memory. "Does it matter?" Qi said. Qi squinted and lit a "Moer" cigarette. The bedroom was instantly filled with smoke, and nothing could be seen. Wen wouldn't be that foolish. Wen wouldn't casually give her virginity to some boy. Wen didn't trust anyone. Wen wouldn't stand alone and helpless in the rain late at night, nor would she close the window and turn on the gas in a heartbreaking afternoon. Wen wouldn't lie on the bed like a fool, hugging a pillow and sobbing uncontrollably, or wander around the room like a madwoman, holding a bottle in her mouth and a kitchen knife. Wen wouldn't even take a happy shower and then stand on the balcony and spit down, "Pah, what's that?" Wen would sit on the soft, large sofa in the living room, leaning back comfortably, with a footstool placed under her feet. She would open all the doors and windows, letting the lazy sunlight stream in. Wen would slightly open her eyes, glancing at the man before her. "Is that alright?" the man would ask.

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Her husband was eating at a restaurant, so I secretly went into her room.

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