Let me continue talking about the absurd things that happened in high school.

Last time I mentioned that the rental apartment my roommate and I rented was in terrible condition—just a brick bungalow in an urban village, mostly inhabited by migrant workers. The room was separated by a curtain, but there was a yard the same size as the room, where we usually boiled water for bathing.

Our girlfriends often came over, sometimes just to do homework, sometimes to have sex. At first, we tried to stagger our visits so as not to disturb each other, staying out until after 10 PM.

One night, both our girlfriends were there. Around 11 PM, after lights out, I was awakened by a low, peculiar moaning sound—they were having sex?! Listening closely, I realized the sound was indeed coming from behind the curtain. My girlfriend was awake too, listening nervously. I covered her mouth with one hand and squeezed her breasts with the other. We'd actually done this kind of thing behind the curtain before, but it had never escalated to sexual intercourse. My girlfriend also held my penis; neither of us dared to make a sound. Finally, it quieted down, but my girlfriend and I couldn't fall asleep for a long time, unable to calm down.

Looking back now, in that environment, it wouldn't be surprising if either of us made that move first. That's how it is with passion; when the feeling hits, you don't care about anything else. After that night of eavesdropping, my girlfriend and I started cautiously following suit. They must have known, but we all pretended not to, tacitly understanding each other. Our sex time gradually shifted naturally from our normal schedule to around 8 PM. Sometimes, when we were doing it together, listening to each other's sounds made it even more stimulating and exciting. Later, we didn't even bother to lower our voices when we moaned.

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Let me continue talking about the absurd things that happened in high school.

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