He stripped her naked, and beneath the veil, desire and tears flowed together.

Those of my generation who grew up under the influence of outdated feudalistic ideas are probably almost extinct, but unfortunately, I am one of them.
I was born into a very special family. My parents were actually quite progressive in most matters; they were worldly-wise and considered very capable by others. My father had an excellent understanding of investment, domestic and international situations, and even some high-tech industries, while my mother had unique insights into communication and interpersonal relationships. My parents placed great emphasis on my education, and I certainly learned many things from them that have benefited me throughout my life. However, my greatest misfortune was removing those deeply ingrained "traditional virtues."
My parents were incredibly conservative in their views on family, ethics, and morality, completely out of line with their qualities and abilities—they could even be described as "feudal." And in this respect, they had a very strong "united front" against me. From the time I was old enough to understand, I was influenced and tormented by the dregs of the Three Cardinal Guides and Five Constant Virtues, the virtues of womanhood, and so on. My adolescence was almost entirely devoid of rebellion, and of course, I had almost no opportunities for romantic feelings. The good thing is that I haven't had any regrets because of it; I don't even know what I should regret. My quietness and maturity have always made my parents proud. I am their pride, something they can constantly boast about to their friends.
Fortunately, everyone will leave their parents' side one day.
When I went to university, I started living in a dormitory, and by then I had a certain degree of freedom. Although not much, it was enough to make me feel relaxed. Breathing in the scent of freedom, I once thought that with my independent life, those shadows would eventually leave me. I thought that my heart could finally be pure, and I could become a healthy and happy woman, basking in the sunshine.
However, when I actually basked in the sunshine, I found myself somewhat ignorant, out of place with my classmates. Late at night, after the dormitory lights were turned off, I listened to them excitedly discussing the gossip and interesting stories of the school. Some of the things they longed for sounded like dirty and shameful things to me. When they openly discussed the men and women in school, I even wanted to cover my ears. They didn't dislike me, because even though I couldn't stand their slightly vulgar remarks, I was still very kind to them. Plus, the boys in my class often showed uncomfortable admiration, and I often acted in ways they called ungrateful, hiding behind them and letting them bear the flattery of these so-called "handsome guys." Then, in my sophomore year, my family introduced me to JP, who became my boyfriend. He was also an outstanding guy, taking care of me and making my roommates very happy. So they all liked me, and my unsociable nature was somehow labeled as aloof and cold; I became a perfect woman in their eyes, untainted and unpretentious.
Then, at the beginning of my junior year, something inside me suddenly awakened, making me realize that the accumulated gloom of the past ten years seemed to have secretly taken over my entire being. I never imagined that so many dark, perverse, and pathetic desires had arisen within me. Panicked, I didn't even know where these desires came from. I had actually allowed myself to harbor feelings for two men at the same time.
Having already found a wonderful boyfriend, I unknowingly developed special feelings for a younger male student. I even began to indulge in self-gratification, and during these moments, I would fantasize about my boyfriend and the younger student's faces and laughter playing in my mind's eye. What's even harder to accept is that I felt so much pleasure from this. This made me suddenly feel like the most contradictory and shameless person.
I felt that these two men appearing at the same time might be God's compensation to me.
At that time, JP was just a boyfriend arranged by my parents in my heart. I acknowledged our relationship, but I didn't feel I loved him. But JP was indeed very good to me. Although I didn't want to accept this arrangement, I also comfortably enjoyed this man's open "love" for me. I didn't stop him from openly being by my side, nor could I refuse his various forms of care and attention. Meanwhile, the younger student who clearly started to like me was another person willing to stay by my side in the shadows. Sometimes I felt that he was a gift delivered to me, and I still feel that way now. His companionship seemed to perfectly fill the void in my heart that had existed for so many years, and he seemed to ask nothing of me what he wanted. Although this lack of expectation now seems like a joke, at the time I was completely captivated.
After that time when I poured out my heart to my junior, revealing many of my innermost feelings that bordered on sexual innuendo, I suddenly realized that I had shared too many private things with him. My junior didn't seem to show any particular emotion or feeling about these things, but I didn't know when I had started to develop feelings for him. I reflected on myself many times, began to examine myself daily, and became consciously more reserved in my conversations with my junior. The arrival of the holidays brought me a long period of relaxation, but then I found myself missing him every day when I was alone. This feeling frightened me. During
that time, I felt guilty every time I looked at my parents, and my mother even asked me if something was wrong, which made me feel even more guilty. Although I knew there was nothing between me and my junior that I should feel guilty about, thinking about my parents' past attitude towards my relationships and the harm they had caused to innocent classmates, I secretly resolved to cut off this relationship with him.
However, reality didn't seem to go as smoothly as I had imagined. Right after the semester started, I met with him privately, and we did something even more outrageous: I looked at photos of YZM. He messaged me asking if I had seen them and if I wanted to look at them together. I already didn't want to see him because of what had happened before, and I was still wondering why he had chosen such an outrageous reason to ask me out. How could I go see him?
However, before going to bed that night, I couldn't help but tell him I hadn't seen them and promised to look at them together the next day. I don't know why I agreed to look at such a thing. You know, when YZM was at his peak, my parents specifically called to tell me "don't look at what you shouldn't see," and I really did listen and didn't look. So I kept asking myself, did I want to see the celebrity or did I want to see my junior?
The next day, everything seemed so natural after we met. I shamelessly started looking at photos with my junior that completely shattered my worldview, but my usual aloofness was successfully masked by my composure and worldly experience. Then, my junior suddenly told me he had fallen for me. I often get confessed to, but perhaps these explicit photos had already stirred an uncontrollable flutter in my heart, leaving me somewhat bewildered by his confession. I told him I already had a boyfriend, and that I had said I would definitely marry him. He said he understood, and that as long as I knew his feelings, that was enough. He asked if I liked him even a little bit, and I said, "No."
I lied again, because I wanted to be a "good girl." But how can I be a "good girl" if I don't lie?

But that wasn't important. I didn't seem to care much about his feelings, or rather, I had already anticipated them. But for some reason, after he said he liked me, I became excited. I was shocked by the explicit photos. Those exposed private parts, those lewd poses—it all suddenly became clear to me. I realized then that my previous calmness was simply because I was suppressing my senses. Before he said he liked me, my anxious state prevented me from thinking much about what was in front of me. But as I started looking at the photos, my heart raced. I was shocked. I never imagined that celebrities would do such explicit things and have them circulated online. My parents had always described sex as evil and disgusting, making me feel dirty just thinking about it. But that day, I was different. When I saw those celebrities I usually saw on TV, naked and making those deliberately provocative poses, something inside me felt ignited, hot. Especially when I saw ZBZ, imagining her posing provocatively in front of other men behind her husband's back, I actually felt a little excited. I suddenly realized that when I looked at these kinds of photos with my junior behind JP's back, was I doing the same thing as ZBZ? Why did I get so shamelessly excited? Then a photo of ZBZ with… in his mouth triggered me again, and I couldn't control my excitement, letting out a soft moan. My face turned completely red, and after a long while, I pretended to casually peek at my junior, who grinned mischievously and told me it was a normal reaction, adding that he had masturbated many times while looking at it. I couldn't stand his bluntness anymore, but I told myself I couldn't run away; that would only show how much I cared. I used the composure typical of a "good kid" to cover myself up, trying to get used to that shy feeling. I knew he had misunderstood me; he probably thought I moaned because I saw CGX's penis. Only I knew that when I looked at that photo, I suddenly thought about what it would feel like if I had my junior's penis in my mouth, and that was exactly why I couldn't help but moan. I couldn't explain it; I didn't know which of these two thoughts was more filthy, sordid, and shameful.
After that, I became increasingly unable to face my own darkness. I even started frequently fantasizing about having my mouth full of my junior, and I would often get excited about it. I knew I still had JP, and I knew my junior was ultimately someone with whom I had no future. I even tried to replace the person in my mouth with JP, but I found that the thought of having JP in my mouth made me feel nauseous. I felt incredibly pathetic at the time, silently bearing this contradiction alone. I didn't know if I had fallen for my junior, nor did I know if this interest in his body counted as liking, but I knew that even if it did, it certainly wasn't pure liking.
I couldn't let him know that I had developed special feelings for him, because at the time I felt that I was JP's woman, and I shouldn't let my junior hope for what I couldn't give him. But from then on, I began to unconsciously enjoy talking to my junior about topics related to the body and sex. I made it very clear to him that we were just "academic research," but every time my body reacted, I felt like I couldn't hide it from him. I felt like I might give myself to this junior at any moment. I didn't even know if I wanted to avoid it or if I was looking forward to it. After all, I still had to be a "good kid," and I had to restrain myself.
The junior always cooperated by saying it was "academic research," but this not-so-serious "bad kid," this "real scoundrel," didn't restrain himself at all, and didn't even bother to hide his desires. Although I always treated him like a little boy, from the first day I met him, I never thought he was the kind of harmless "good person." Especially when he asked me to look at yzm's photos at the beginning of this semester and told me he liked me that same day, I was already certain that he wanted to sleep with me. And he probably sensed that I couldn't hide my desires, and he probably planned to get me that day. I have to say, he's just that kind of direct person. He's always stubborn and won't admit it, but his actions are undisguised, direct and forceful. He just overlooked the fact that I'm not as direct as him.
I have too many concerns. My parents' influence has made me very cautious when making friends, especially with the opposite sex. If I find that someone has developed feelings for me that go beyond friendship, I will cut off the relationship as soon as possible to avoid any tragic ending. So I have almost no close male friends, let alone a boy like my junior who clearly has inappropriate feelings for me. Even with JP, my parents' chosen "boyfriend," I constantly remind him that his inappropriate feelings for me are evil and unforgivable. But for some reason, my junior is different. I have always allowed this young man who openly expressed his desire for me to stay in my life. Perhaps it was because our relationship was a secretive "underground" one, so I presumptuously included him as part of the "bad boy" persona beneath my "good boy" facade; perhaps it was because he expressed his desire for me so directly, making me feel the "honesty" and "action-orientedness" that I, a "good boy," lacked; or perhaps this feeling of "stealing" had become irresistible; or maybe I even started hoping he would slowly transform me into a "bad boy." In short, even as his seduction became increasingly excessive and blatant, I couldn't stop the relationship from continuing. The only thing I could convince myself of was that I wouldn't let him succeed, especially since someone was "protecting" me every day.
My junior is really something; even now, he still denies that he seduced me with the intention of sleeping with me, insisting that he respected me before we got together, and that everything that happened later was my initiative, using the word "unexpected." How should I describe his respect? "Heh" is probably appropriate.
Back then, our club activity was film appreciation. After each film appreciation session, a junior would use "academic research" as a pretext to drag me along to appreciate different movies. At first, it was Hong Kong films with beautiful plots, but later it simply switched to "American blockbusters." My relationship with the junior was still just ordinary friends, but physical contact quickly progressed to holding hands and hugging. In the era of "Hong Kong films," we had a wet kiss with a lot of saliva exchange. He said that my first kiss was also his. For a "good kid" like me, these things were simply unbelievable. Especially since the person who stole my first kiss, which I had cherished for so many years, was this simple yet lewd little boy who was drooling over naked men and women intertwined on the screen. When his tongue swirled vigorously in my mouth, a lot of saliva flowed into my mouth, a lot of saliva, and it even had an odor, but it didn't make me feel uncomfortable.
At that moment, I thought of JP, and I also thought of myself who had always tried to be a "good kid." I suddenly wondered if I was repaying the debt I had owed to the "bad kids" around me over the years? My body went limp, and all I could do was grip his wrists tightly to stop his restless hands from exploring other parts of my body, because I wasn't sure if that would make me completely succumb. In the end, I was truly grateful for my mother's unpredictable nightly dorm phone calls; otherwise, he would have already succeeded.
But the junior didn't give up, his advances growing increasingly fierce. And I don't know why, even knowing his intentions, even feeling his directness and even his somewhat recklessness, I still didn't resist his seduction. He always used "academic research" as an excuse, and the "movies" he found were indeed diverse and wide-ranging, broadening my horizons. But behind this broadening of horizons, I unknowingly surrendered my physical secrets. By the time I realized the junior was trying to figure out and test my preferences, it was already too late.
It was the first time we watched a movie about master and slave together. I asked him curiously, "What kind of woman would like someone to treat her like that? It's so humiliating."
Unexpectedly, he suddenly said very seriously, "It's usually a sweet girl like you, a woman who usually pretends to be a cool, aloof goddess. Don't you like that, senior?"
My heart skipped a beat; something seemed to have been touched by him. At that moment, I even felt that what he said was absolutely right. I immediately denied it, saying very seriously that it's hard to understand someone's preferences, but my heart was pounding wildly.
My junior, feigning seriousness, told me he wasn't "anyone else." Then, he began analyzing my preferences, a barrage of vulgar words and explicit descriptions pounding at my nerves. My heart raced. Each obscene word seemed to rip a filthy cave from my heart, revealing the very dirty desires he described, as if these were my preferences, merely concealed beneath a veil, which he was peeling away one by one. I realized he had completely seen through me, a self I didn't even understand. I felt like a slut stripped naked in the street, utterly humiliated. Sweating, blushing, head bowed, I weakly denied everything he said. But I knew he had gotten the answer he wanted.
His seduction became increasingly targeted, and I began to lose my composure, forgetting to stop him from taking further physical contact, sometimes even giving him verbal and physical responses because I couldn't control myself. I knew he noticed every time I lost my composure, and the things that made me lose my composure filled me with unbearable shame. He was right; I did indeed like master-slave dynamics, and I did indeed like the idea of a wife cheating. It's just that when he first mentioned it, I didn't even know I liked it. I felt completely exposed to him; my preferences were as transparent as the Emperor's New Clothes in his eyes. Beside him, I became more and more like a wanton and depraved woman, but this also suddenly gave me a sense of release and liberation. Perhaps this was the feeling of "having one true friend in life is enough," but the truth about who I was being "known" to was indeed somewhat shameful and degrading.
Fortunately, the education and values of chastity I received over the years kept me steadfast in my principles. However, during that time, the dormitory bathroom became a place I frequented every night before bed. I couldn't believe I had fallen so quickly under the influence of a younger student. Fortunately, my junior was a reliable man back then. He never forced me and was very careful to protect my privacy. There were never any rumors about me at school, and he still acted like a stranger to me in front of others. This made me feel more at ease as I slowly succumbed to my depravity.
During JP's final sprint in preparing for the postgraduate entrance exam, this somewhat perverse relationship between my junior and me lasted for a long time. The night before JP's exam, after a passionate kiss with my junior, I forced myself to tell him that we couldn't do this again, using the phrase "returning to family." That day, my junior stood behind me, hugging me tightly, and slipped his hands inside my clothes from my collar. I should have stopped him; that was a place no one else had ever touched, and it had completely crossed my original bottom line. But I let his hands knead my clothes wantonly, feeling the warmth of his hands and the pressure from his fingertips to my most sensitive areas, constantly changing in size and direction, and the waves of pleasure that made my whole body tingle. I leaned against him, feeling myself completely soften at that moment. I thought of my parents' teachings, and JP's care and respect for me, but I took no action. I guess I could no longer convince myself that I wasn't a promiscuous woman.
When the junior reached for my pants again, I stopped him with all my might. I hurriedly straightened my clothes and ran out of the classroom without a word. Dazed yet feigning composure, I walked back to my dorm, told my roommate I wasn't feeling well, and went to bed. As soon as I crawled under the covers, tears started flowing. I just cried silently, without sobbing or whimpering, without disturbing any of my roommates, but the tears just wouldn't stop, as if I were letting out all the tears I'd held back for over a decade.
To this day, I still don't know why I cried so much that day.

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He stripped her naked, and beneath the veil, desire and tears flowed together.

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