As her pleasure slowly receded, they slept again, nestled together without reservation—cheeks touching, limbs entwined, sleeping cheek-to-cheek like passionate lovers or a long-married couple. The golden evening sunset tinted the window, casting a faint crimson glow over their skin like a dazzling layer of gilding. He kissed the girl in his arms, his palm kneading her sore, pliant body as he softly asked if she still hurt.
She was soft as water, while he remained hard as stone. Chen Yi had picked up a box of contraceptives at the pharmacy earlier without explicitly stating his desire, merely nuzzling her shoulder. Having been together so long, their understanding was bone-deep—a single kiss was enough to ignite their bodies, and their union began from there.
He unfolded her fingers, interlacing them and pressing them into the pillow. After ample soothing, he entered her, his earlier tenderness transforming into domineering intensity. His eyes, dark yet blazing, held a handsome face taut with long-suppressed restraint and desire. In the wild rhythm, his powerful, honey-toned physique glistened with a thin layer of sweat, exuding a seductive sheen. Veins bulged on his sweat-slicked neck as suppressed gasps escaped his lips. He bent to kiss Miao Jing, already radiant to the point of intoxication, her clear eyes dazed and distant. Murmuring her name, he thrust fiercely into her delicate form, revealing both unruly dominance and tender care in equal measure. Finally, they climaxed together, embracing tightly through their bodies’ convulsions, caressing each other in the aftermath amid heavy breaths.
Erasing that indescribable wistful sorrow from her heart, the experience was undoubtedly joyful. Tasting desire for the first time, with the most special person in her life—all her joys and sorrows tied to him—their bond transcended simple affection, making the happiness especially profound.
That day, Miao Jing barely walked, forced to lie in bed in a daze. Hearing clattering from the kitchen, she knew Chen Yi was cooking noodles, whistling a cheerful tune. He eventually emerged shirtless, carrying two bowls. Seeing his satisfied, carefree demeanor, she couldn’t help but smile, though she hid it demurely when he noticed. His chest and back were marked with her scratches. Feigning aloofness, he strode over and asked what she was laughing at. She denied it, prompting him to pinch the corner of her lips. Miao Jing dodged, falling back onto the bed, but he swiftly caught her, pulling the radiant woman into his embrace for another lingering kiss. He stroked her long hair and carried her out to eat.
It was Miao Jing’s first time trying his cooking: bland noodles topped with two undercooked fried eggs and leftover braised duck legs from the previous night. She took small bites as Chen Yi asked if it tasted good. She replied it was too bland. He snorted coolly, his expression tough and defiant, quipping that of course it tasted bland to her—all the salt had ended up in his bowl. He took the opportunity to tease her about the overly salty noodles she’d cooked for him in the past.
She giggled, a rare moment of unrestrained joy for Miao Jing, her eyes curved like crescent moons, sparkling with pure, innocent beauty. He stared transfixed, unable to resist pulling her into his arms—if Miao Jing weren’t Miao Jing, if she were a girl from an ordinary, happy family, not having traveled far to another city, not forced to wash clothes, cook, and support herself, not enduring hardships beyond her years, what would she be like?
But that kind of ordinary, happy life—he couldn’t give it to her either.The meal unfinished, the two moved to the bed once more. Youth always brimmed with inexhaustible energy and emotion. His curiosity about her body surged, while she remained captivated by his physique and strength. Having reached this stage in their relationship, some restraints were cast aside. Such a delightful bond was intoxicating, making them crave indulgence—to explore each other with their youthful, smooth bodies, as if wanting to merge into one another.
Lying side by side on the bed to rest, Chen Yi took a phone call, then got up to shower, change clothes, and head out. He reminded Miao Jing to rest early and call him if anything came up before hurrying off. Watching his figure disappear beyond the door from the foot of the bed, she dragged her weary body up, slipped into his T-shirt, tossed the soiled sheets and clothes into the washing machine, and lost herself in thought while listening to its rumbling noise, her gaze fixed on her admission letter.
She spent the entire day alone at home. Chen Yi didn’t return until late the next night, reeking of alcohol with traces of blood and bruises at the corners of his mouth and cheeks. Brushing it off, he went straight to the bathroom to tend to his wounds. Hearing the commotion outside, Miao Jing got up and found him dabbing medicine in front of the mirror. He was never one to stay out of trouble—over the years, he’d accumulated various injuries but never seemed to care. Taking the cotton swab from him, she helped treat his wounds as he calmly explained it was nothing serious—just someone causing a scene, and he’d intercepted a thrown bottle for his boss.
He then asked what she’d eaten that day and how she’d passed the time at home, suggesting he buy more snacks and entertainment to keep her occupied if she was bored.
Miao Jing responded with a placid expression, exchanging a few calm words with him before turning to go back to sleep. After his shower, Chen Yi found her door closed and the lights off. Originally intending to return to his own room, he paused mid-step and tentatively reached for her door. With a gentle push, it swung open—it hadn’t been locked, merely left ajar.
Whatever the reason, he couldn’t suppress the sweetness welling up in his heart—she had been waiting for his return, and for his approach.
Thus, they naturally ended up sleeping together. Under the moonlight, their bodies—soft and graceful or lean and powerful—radiated a vibrant beauty. Kisses trailing over skin or the friction of entwined limbs made the moonlight seem all the more alluring. They explored each other’s bodies with curious abandon, like a revelry of newfound pleasure. Under the cover of night, they never tired of this joy that coursed through their veins, seeped into their bones, and lingered even in their dreams.
Miao Jing lay sprawled on the bed, flushed and drenched in sweat, too languid to recover. Catching the scent of tobacco, she lacked the energy to glare or frown. Chen Yi always liked to lean against the headboard for a smoke afterward, idly stroking her sweat-slicked body while chatting with her intermittently.
They talked about childhood memories—how his mischievous and hot-tempered nature led him to rally the local kids to navigate the world, during his wildest and most adventurous phase. The experiences and people he encountered were diverse, always yielding astonishing tales: outsmarting adults, playing pranks at school, braving graveyards at midnight to test their courage, or adventuring deep into the mountains for campfires...The story was vividly told, and she listened with rapt attention, her delicate face displaying captivating expressions. She was even more focused than when he was eight or nine years old, crouching at the neighbor's house listening to bizarre gossip. She marveled at how he could have so many extraordinary experiences, yet felt a tinge of envy. Since childhood, she had been obedient to the point of numbness, and her life experiences could be described as barren. The only excitement came from being with him, making her own existence seem pale and dull in comparison.
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