Chapter 25: The You in the Story (2)
He hadn’t left. He had stayed downstairs, finding a spot outside the hotel entrance. After seeing Yin Guo’s WeChat reply, all he wanted was a cigarette.
But he didn’t have one on him.
A few travelers were smoking by the trash can outside the hotel. He walked over and politely borrowed a cigarette—white paper, quick to burn, wrapped around brown tobacco. The best thing to calm his nerves. His smoking technique was practiced, the kind that would make anyone assume he was a seasoned smoker. In truth, he had quit years ago.
The last time he smoked was downstairs at his New York apartment, with Chen Anan. What had that been about?
Also because of Yin Guo.
This time, it was because of Yin Guo again. In the time it took to finish that cigarette, he figured out what he wanted to do. A round trip would mean over six hours apart—no matter how he calculated it, it wasn’t worth it. And knowing himself, he doubted he’d get anything productive done in those six hours anyway. He’d just be thinking about her.
Might as well go back upstairs.
…
Lin Yiyang set his watch on the tea cabinet by the entrance—black metal band, the face and hands ticking away as he had adjusted them: 7:01.
In one motion, he lifted Yin Guo off the ground. Startled, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.
She felt his left hand at her waist, his right supporting her thigh. “Up,” he said.
Yin Guo shifted higher, clinging to him, her heart pounding wildly.
All for this man.
Lin Yiyang had meant to carry her to the bedroom, but her hair brushed against his cheek.
She had showered and dried her hair but left it loose—falling over her shoulders, down her back, framing her face. Girls smelled this good—was it just his own infatuation, or was it the shampoo and body wash? He didn’t dwell on it. He just didn’t want to go to the bedroom anymore. He didn’t want to take another step.
He set her down on the tea cabinet, leaned in close, and found her face. His voice was rough as he asked, “Why do you smell so good?”
“…Just showered before bed.” His way of complimenting was too direct, almost teasing.
He laughed.
Warm breath, tinged with the scent of cigarettes, brushed against her forehead.
“You—” She wanted to say, Aren’t you old enough to know girls always smell nice after a shower?
“Me what?”
He tilted his head, aiming for her lips.
But he stopped just short, hovering less than a centimeter away, unmoving.
Yin Guo unconsciously bit her lower lip, her heart floating.
Like being in water—not enough buoyancy. She couldn’t sink, couldn’t rise.
He was watching her subtle reactions, slowly adjusting, as if searching for the perfect angle to kiss her.
He asked again, “Not saying anything?”
It was a trap.
Waiting for her to open her mouth, to speak.
Yin Guo fell for it. The moment her lips parted, Lin Yiyang kissed her.
He gave her no room to breathe—none for himself either. It was a kiss that cut off all oxygen. Yin Guo’s tongue went numb from his relentless pressure. She kept trying to inhale through her nose, but it barely helped. The air in the room had been stolen, taken away.
When the last trace of oxygen was gone, her nails dug into his shoulders. She wasn’t sure if he had let her go or if they were still kissing.
He looked at her—her eyes red, dazed as she stared back at him.
…
He kissed her forehead.
Who could remember anything about the past? Her mind had stopped working.
She didn’t want to think anymore.Slowly, she caught her breath, exhausted, resting her head against the cabinet as she looked at him.
Lin Yiyang did the same, gazing back at her, the corners of his lips unconsciously curving upward.
“What are you smiling at?” she murmured.
“You’re just so beautiful,” Lin Yiyang replied. “How were you even born?”
Smooth talker.
Yet she could almost see how her heart melted in his presence…
Right before him.
“You must have had a lot of suitors?” he asked. “Someone as pretty as you—there must’ve been plenty.”
She shook her head. “My brother had a lot of gang members at our school. Back in middle school, he made it clear no one was allowed to pursue me. Since middle and high school were connected, barely any boys dared to talk to me.”
Well, he really ought to thank Meng Xiaodong for that.
“There was only one time when I got called into the office out of nowhere. A repeat student in my class had written my name on the back of his uniform. I had no idea about it, but the teacher scolded me anyway, insisting I was dating him and threatening to call my parents. My brother went instead,” Yin Guo said, laughing at the memory. “My homeroom teacher was a fan of his. I almost wonder if she did it on purpose.”
Lin Yiyang listened, picturing the scene.
He thought to himself—if he had known Yin Guo back then, things wouldn’t have ended so simply. He’d have dragged that kid out and beaten him up.
“Later, my brother came back and told me, ‘After looking at the class photo, I told the teacher, ‘No way it’s this guy. My sister has terrible taste—she only likes handsome guys.’”
He mused that he wasn’t bad-looking himself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have had the confidence to pursue her.
Yin Guo, caught up in the conversation, grew even more relaxed.
After her shower, she had changed into loose-fitting pajamas—a baggy short-sleeved top and cotton athletic shorts. Her snow-white legs were fully exposed before him, shifting restlessly as she tried to find a comfortable sitting position.
Unaware, she chatted and laughed, oblivious to just how much temptation a girl like her posed to her boyfriend.
Sight, scent, sound—she filled every sense.
He needed to say something to distract himself.
“I graduated from Seventh High,” he said, shifting to his own high school days.
Yin Guo was surprised. “That’s only five minutes from our school—you could walk there. Back then, outside our school gates, the only people loitering were either troublemakers or guys from Seventh High.”
He didn’t deny it. It wasn’t surprising—his high school was notoriously rough in the district.
“Tell me more,” she said, stretching her arms to hug him again, leaning into him. “I want to hear.”
The warmth of her breath brushed his ear, her face close, the softness of her body pressed against him.
Lin Yiyang let her hold him, resting his cheek against hers. “What do you want to hear?”
“Your past.”
“What part of it?” he asked again.
Suddenly afraid she might touch on something painful, Yin Guo backtracked. “Or something else, like… your major.”
“I’ve said it before—ask me anything you want to know,” he said quietly. “I’ll hold nothing back from you.”
Simple words, but his tone lent them a faint, intangible warmth.
If a voice could have a color, his right now would be the glow of a roadside motel on a desolate highway in the dead of night—warm, dim, intertwined with the darkness.
For the next hour, Lin Yiyang told her many things.
About childhood memories, about the hometown across the coast, and finally, about his parents."My parents passed away together, in a car accident on the highway during a business trip," Lin Yiyang said calmly. "They both worked at the same automotive group—my dad was in sales, and my mom was in finance. Originally, Mom had stayed home to raise me and my younger brother, but that year, she suddenly insisted on going on the trip with my dad. Later, I found out she had noticed signs of his infidelity and wanted to keep an eye on him. Who would’ve thought they’d both leave like that in the end?"
He paused before continuing, "When I grew up and sorted through their belongings, I discovered the other side of the story. The reason my dad was always away on business was because he’d found out about my mom’s affair."
She wasn’t good at comforting people. Whenever friends were upset, she could only offer dry companionship—handing over snacks, tissues—but never knew the right words to soothe them. "You must have moved on if you can talk about it now, right?" she ventured.
"Right," he replied flatly. "It’s long over."
All those stories from the previous generation had already reached their final act, their curtain call.
"Do you still believe in marriage?" she asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
As soon as the words left her mouth, she noticed Lin Yiyang glance up slightly, studying her.
"I just wanted to comfort you," she explained quickly. "Don’t overthink it. No misinterpretations."
"What do you think I’m thinking?"
Yin Guo fell silent. She couldn’t win against him in words, so she gave up.
"I do," he answered after watching her for a moment. "I believe in myself."
He’d seen enough dramatic lives and weathered his own highs and lows. As a teenager, he’d strived, reached the pinnacle, won a national championship—only to lose everything after sixteen and start over. Sixteen—an age when most people’s lives were just beginning—he’d already experienced a full cycle of triumph and downfall. Now, at twenty-seven, he had a clearer vision of the life he wanted.
"Anything else you want to ask?" he said.
"No, I don’t want to ask anymore," she murmured, shaking her head as she hugged him. "I was sleeping earlier, and you woke me up. I’m still sleepy."
Yin Guo had originally wanted to ask why he left East New City, but now she didn’t feel like it.
She didn’t want to ask anything at all.
She could chatter about meaningless things for hours, and with him, it never felt like a waste of time.
She even felt that counting "one, two, three" with him was more interesting than watching a blockbuster.
But now, after hearing about his parents, she didn’t want to say another word—didn’t want to risk stirring even a hint of sadness in him.
Lin Yiyang once again became acutely aware of his girlfriend’s curves pressed against him. It was safe to say… her figure had a way of setting his blood racing. She kept hugging him, and he didn’t—couldn’t—pull away.
In this private space, holding his official girlfriend, there was no reason to retreat.
"I’ll carry you to bed," he said.
"Mhm."
He lifted Yin Guo up, carrying her from the hallway into the room, her body snug against his as they tumbled onto the bed together.
Her slippers had already fallen onto the carpet, and Lin Yiyang’s jacket lay discarded by the doorway… He pushed the snow-white comforter aside and kicked off his shoes.
Yin Guo tangled with him in the sheets.
Both wore short sleeves, their arms brushing. She had on shorts; he was in jeans—the rough texture of the denim grazing her legs and ankles, both soft and abrasive at once.
Through the thin cotton fabric, Lin Yiyang kissed every place he wanted—every place he could.Yin Guo felt like she was truly going crazy. This man, with just the simplest, most ordinary actions, had completely immersed her in a deep sense of being needed—desperately needed by him.
She had heard countless times from those around her that all first loves were crazy. Because everything was a first—no skill, no experience, zero understanding of emotional desires, attraction to the opposite sex, or knowledge of each other's bodies...
When faced with someone they liked, girls' curiosity about sex and physical anatomy was no less than that of men.
For example, right now.
Lin Yiyang was gently sucking on her lips, one kiss after another. She lay on her back, head tilted up, exhausted on the bed. Both of them were utterly spent—they had been lying there fully clothed, holding and kissing for over three hours. Every drop of blood and every nerve in their bodies screamed, "So tired, so sleepy," yet neither wanted it to end. Might as well kiss until they fell asleep.
Dazed, she thought about wrapping her arms around his waist, then suddenly had the urge to touch his body.
His bare, shirtless upper back.
The man above her paused, studying her face. He wanted to take off her top, wanted to see, wanted to hold her as they slept.
Given that he had tried twice already—both times met with her laughter and evasion—Yin Guo knew exactly what that look meant. She stopped moving too, about to speak, but her throat itched, forcing her to clear it softly.
The room was silent.
A few seconds later—
"...Not that," she whispered, barely audible.
She wasn’t ready yet.
"Not doing it," he murmured against her neck. "Just want to see."
After hours of kissing, fueled by their intimate exchanges, his every move and word now carried no restraint. He had returned to his most natural state as a man—completely, utterly unguarded and unrefined. He was simply a man who wanted to see his girlfriend clearly.
...
Yin Guo’s throat was dry, her head spinning, consumed by feverish desire. "All girls are the same. There’s no difference in how we look."
Her neck was flushed, her ears burning red.
"Don’t know if there’s a difference," he said. "Never seen one."
...
After a long internal struggle, Yin Guo finally whispered a rebuttal: "I haven’t seen one either."
Her intention was to dissuade him.
But this man turned out to be an absolute rogue...
Lin Yiyang propped himself up on his arms, sitting up beside her without a word. Gripping the hem of his T-shirt, he pulled it off in one swift motion and tossed it onto the pillow before leaning back down.
His face close to hers, he murmured, "Here. Take a good look."
With his elbow planted beside her, his arm muscles flexed naturally. His upper body had no excess fat, his waistline sharply defined, and his V-line clearly visible...
Yin Guo’s gaze trailed down his V-line, lingering where the rest of his physique disappeared behind the zipper of his jeans. Turns out, he had more than one tattoo—above his V-line was an abstract design.
A compass without a face.
Only half was visible; the rest was hidden beneath his jeans.
Unable to resist, Yin Guo studied the tattoo. "No hands?" she asked, pointing at the design on his waist.
Only the directional marker and background pattern were there. Where were the compass hands?
"Here," he said.Lin Yiyang used his right hand, with his index and middle fingers together, to roughly circle a spot below his belt, just beneath his V-line. His attitude was clear: if you want to see it, I'll show you.
OpenNovel