Ye Liuxi was softened into a puddle by Changdong's kisses. She felt rather unimpressive—someone of her caliber should have held her own on the bed, right? Yet no matter how hard she tried, Changdong seemed born to conquer her. As soon as he came near, she grew weak in the limbs, and even a glance could make her cheeks flush. So, she was won over, completely content and willing. In a state of bewildered passion, Changdong wrapped his arms around her and turned them over, now she was on top. One hand gently cradled her supple waist, the other firmly grasped her thigh, lifting her body a good distance forward. Before Ye Liuxi could react, she felt a tingling numbness along her waist—Changdong's head was nestled against her waist, gently kissing her skin, his hands applying varying degrees of pressure, while his tongue occasionally flicked and teased. The pressure of his head against her chest brought a dull ache, mingled with a pleasant tingling from the brushing of her hair. Ye Liuxi murmured a soft gasp, desperately trying to arch her back, only for Changdong to suddenly shift his position, gently lowering her body and then Ye Liuxi’s mind went blank; instinctively, he wanted to retreat. His hand pressed against her back, cutting off his escape, then slid down along her ribs, gently or firmly kneading the rounded curve on the other side. Within just two seconds, Ye Liuxi softened completely—exactly as he had desired. He wrapped her tightly, suckling, licking, and nipping, like a wolf drawn to the scent of blood, never missing a single spot. Ye Liuxi emitted a low moan, her chin resting against his head, her vision blurring. With rapid breaths, her breathing grew increasingly labored, until she nearly couldn’t sustain it. Then, suddenly, her body lightened, and Chang Dong laid her flat again on the bed. This new position felt incredibly solid—she almost began to feel grateful to him. She had no strength left to move even her fingers. In the dark, Chang Dong sat up and began to remove his clothes, tossing them casually aside—Ye Liuxi’s hearing was now so sharp it was astonishing. With every garment landing on the floor, a distinct sound resonated, tightening her throat. He finally came fully onto her, one arm spanning across her back, lifting her body, while the other followed her waist downward, fingers catching the edge of her underwear and gliding it down, gradually slipping the garment off until it reached her knees. His hand then moved up along the inner part of her legs, tracing upward until it reached her hips, where he firmly grasped and gently pivoted her leg to the side. Yefu subconsciously tried to press her thighs together. It was too late—his pelvis had already settled onto hers, and he asked, "Do you want me to?" Yefu nodded, her voice hoarse. Chang Dong said softly, "I'll go slow." Yefu felt a sense of relief, and a thought formed in her mind: Good. But then she quickly realized what kind of endurance this slowness truly required. He could actually hold it—gradually pressing himself deeper into her body, inch by inch. She would ultimately be his, so he didn't rush for results. He was almost obsessive about the process—eating not for fullness, but for flavor, carving shadow figures with each stroke distinct and precise. Every moment, every sensation, mattered. He would gain her, and each second counted. He knew this process would surely torment her. Yefu Xi preferred to go straight for results, skipping all the intermediaries and arriving at passionate, intense intimacy—she’d even die for a decisive, final cut, unable to tolerate anything drawn out or sluggish. She found it unbearable to be gently simmered in warm water. On several occasions, she even lifted her body, eager to take the initiative and accelerate the process, only for Chang Dong to hold her firmly, pressing down with his hips, leaving her unable to move—no matter how she strained, no matter how desperately she pleaded, she felt trapped, with no way to survive or to escape. Yefu Xi could bear it no longer, nearly gasping in pain. Chang Dong gently kissed the damp, hair-streaked cheek of her, sometimes lightly tracing her waist with his fingernail to ease her—yet remained utterly unmoved, calm even to the point of cruel. He wanted her to endure this process, just as the universe began with the Big Bang, bursting from a singularity—without extreme suppression, no full release could ever occur. Yefu Xi’s consciousness blurred, her body trembling uncontrollably, speaking incoherently, sometimes pleading with him, sometimes cursing him. Once, she murmured faintly, “Chang Dong, like this… you won’t win the Golden Knife Award.” Chang Dong smiled and replied, “I’ve already won you.” Their bodies pressed so tightly there was no gap between them, sweat flowing from his solid, muscular back down to her soft waist, merging and pressing them together. In the final moment, Chang Dong finally could not hold back, lowering his head to seal her lips, one hand firmly holding her waist, and driving his body hard against her until he reached the very end. Her voice, escaping from her throat, was kissed back by him, mingled with the entwined lips and tongues, and then resonated again in her mind, a constant hum, blurring her vision. The world felt strange and unfamiliar, yet gradually, the充实 sensation of her body being filled brought her a sense of relief. Before Chang Dong began, she had murmured, "Chang Dong, don't let me speak." She clutched at this last thread of awareness, as if holding onto a lifeline, afraid she wouldn't be able to hold it, afraid someone would hear her. Chang Dong nodded, and resumed kissing her lips. Yue Liuxi felt reassured. ... There was no moon in the sky. In the courtyard, the first bloom of the turtle-back snake vine suddenly opened, delicate snowflakes brushing against the sparse branches and blossoms, the setting sun casting a warm, translucent orange glow over the calyx. The town's guardian river stirred, startled and awakened, pacing restlessly, its claws pressing against the water to calculate—knowing that something momentous would surely unfold tonight, yet looking around in confusion: unable to see where it had begun. … The quilt had slipped down to her waist, yet she felt no cold; her skin was warm, so warm that the air around her seemed heated as well. A corner of the quilt was lifted by her body, swaying like it were caught in a breeze, brushing gently against her side with each movement. In her mind, Ye Liuxi’s thoughts were a tangled mess—scenes from various moments rushed in, and she wasn’t sure if she had even opened her eyes. Her hearing and sense of smell were nearly paralyzed. The only presence she could feel was Changdong. She recalled fragments of seemingly unimportant moments. She remembered in the town of Qi, late at night, yawning, driving, looping through one hotel after another, picking up women returning from their evening outings—women who were the most contradictory of all. They envied her for not having to wade through the water, yet resented her for standing on the shore, so close to intimacy, constantly complaining about her lack of closeness to love, despite how often they spoke of it. Most of them lived in low, modest houses on the outskirts of the town. To reach the town center, one had to pass a long, uneven field strip. The road was always The women sat haphazardly across the seats, kneading their legs and massaging their backs, talking in a lively chorus. —"If it weren't for the money, I'd never put up with this!" —"They're not even decent people; with such little pay, they treat you like you're dying. —"Oh, yesterday I saw a film that mentioned your chances of meeting someone you truly love are only one in a few hundred thousand... It must be different when you're with someone you genuinely like..." She added, "Liu Xi, when you're looking for a man in the future, keep your eyes open—some people are completely different in front of you than they are behind closed doors." Yi Liu Xi bit into a piece of chewing gum and chewed it thoughtfully before saying, "I've never really been interested in the back-and-forth of love." ... Now, she simply feels fortunate. To be in love and to experience intimacy, to give oneself fully—this is one of the rarer, purer joys in life. It may sometimes bring pain, but compared to the deep sense of fulfillment she feels when he holds her close and takes from her, that pain seems almost negligible. When the emotion reached its peak, even the skin and flesh became barriers, and she didn't know how to get any closer to him. At one moment, she longed to melt into him; at another, she felt as though her body were being crushed and kneaded to dust. In a state of dizziness, she experienced vivid illusions: everything around her twisted, shrank, folded, and drifted into weightless dust. Conversely, every sensation within her body expanded infinitely—each light brush of the skin felt like an earthquake, and every sweep of her hair like a gale sweeping across the land. The entire world is gentle and soft, as if people were floating just beneath the surface of warm water, or slowly melting under the bright, scorching sun. Dews gather on the skin and quietly slip down, and she can clearly feel the smoothness and delicate tingling carried away by each trail. She doesn't want to think. She doesn't want to move forward. She is content to sink, to simply savor the moment. For a long time, her body only gradually recovers from the uncontainable tremors, and the world unfolds layer by layer, becoming three-dimensional, slowly coming into tangible reality. Her eyes finally see things clearly, the air is cool, the bedsheet damp. As her fingers gently curl, she accidentally brushes against a page lying casually by the bedside—was it a booklet of maps of a golden mine, or just the edge of a magazine? She no longer remembers, it feels as distant as something from the last century. Ye Liuxi's voice is soft and husky, as though it no longer belongs to her own: "Changdong, you've been thinking about me all along, haven't you?" Changdong smiles slightly. He lifts himself up, and with both hands, grasps each of The pose was like surrendering helplessly—awkward, yet she lacked the strength to resist. Chang Dong leaned down, kissing her eyelids and brushing his tongue along the tips of her lashes, "Yes." Ye Liuxi felt itchy, her eyes struggling to stay open, wanting to reach out and push him away. Honestly, he just said "yes." She still thought she had been the one holding onto him—throughout the journey, she'd been resolute, half-threatening, half-frightened, securing him and then carefully guarding him. Ye Liuxi said, "You're a damn fool." Chang Dong replied, "Yes, I've been taking advantage of you. What can you do?" Ye Liuxi was truly out of breath, unable to bite her tongue any longer. Her perception of people sometimes was truly hard to describe. When they first met, how had she thought him sincere? She never imagined that one day, words like "unreliable" or "rude" could be applied to him. Ye Liuxi said, "I'm too tired today. Just wait—I'll treat you next time." Chang Dong leaned close to her ear, "Then next Ye Liuxi was nearly on the edge of impatience, but Chang Dong laughed heartily, lay down, and gently lifted her onto his chest, whispering, "This will make you feel more comfortable." He had that special ability to instantly calm her. She felt much more at ease—his body warm, his chest broad and solid. Lying there, listening to the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat, she felt the entire world settle into peace. Chang Dong cradled her soft waist with his arms and slowly traced her hair with his fingers. When they first met, her hair had only reached her shoulders; now it had grown a little longer. He didn't know how long it had been before Ye Liuxi finally fell asleep—her once-energetic, pawed-and-clawed leopard, now utterly exhausted, was as gentle and yielding as a small kitten. Chang Dong himself remained awake, wrapped in the soft, lovely warmth of her presence. The feeling was so real that he began to feel a little afraid—afraid that upon waking, he would realize that everything inside and outside the realm had simply been a dream. With Ye Liuxi by his side, he often felt as though he could never see beyond today. Even when they were deeply in love, passionately devoted, he still felt it was merely a fleeting spectacle—like a splendid banquet that would soon grow cold and dissipate, fading into the distance. He had never been able to plan for her future, just as he couldn’t anticipate her very arrival. She never belonged in his life at all. Things that came too easily would also leave too easily; those who arrived at the wrong time might at any moment be realigned. The turtle-back snake orchid has finally bloomed—this one must be... Sunset in Light Snow? It's so rare to see the sunrise in the morning and then enjoy the sunset while admiring the flowers. Li Jinao excitedly shouted, "Oh! Who's that—Gao Dong, no, Gao Chang—the snake orchid has bloomed!" Chang Dong heard it indoors but didn't move. How unremarkable is his name? Does the surname Gao simply carry more presence? ... Ah, Hé has seen the turtle-back snake orchid bloom every winter, so it's not particularly surprising to her. What's rare is that Ding Liu and Gao Shen both got up in the early hours, gathered around to watch it for a long time. Ding Liu was genuinely curious and couldn't help but gently tap the setting sun with her fingertip. "This sun..." Gao Shen reached for her wrist without hesitation. Ding Liu looked up at him. Gao Shen was momentarily stunned, then hesitated, releasing her grip. After a moment, he stammered, "The sun... it's quite warm, you know. Be careful not to get burned." Ding Liu asked, "Is it Li Jin'ao said, "It's not hot. I just tested it a moment ago—it has a certain appearance, but when you touch it, it feels just like air, completely empty. Don't you believe me? Look." He extended his hand and, with swift, decisive movements, cut through the small setting sun as if chopping vegetables: "See? It's fine." Ding Liu found it impressive. Gao Shen was embarrassed, paused, and said, "Then go touch it—now it's all right. People are really strange. The more rigid and conventional they become, the more endearing they seem." Ding Liu didn't touch it, but after a while, she suddenly remembered something: "Dongguang has always said he wants to see the snake orchid bloom. I'll go get him." She turned and rushed back inside. When Gao Shen entered, Ding Liu had already knocked several times at the door, and she bent down, trying in vain to peer through the lockhole: "I can't seem to wake up Dongguang..." Gao Shen said, "Maybe he left early?" "No, actually. This morning I opened the door and it was latched from the inside." Gao Shen casually turned the doorknob. "So maybe he slept too soundly..." With a soft click, the door swung open. Ding Liu jumped in surprise. Didn't Donggu forget to lock the door when he went to bed last night? She peeked through the narrow crack, suddenly feeling something was off. She pressed her finger against the door, then pushed it open a bit more, and finally fully opened it. Inside, there was no one. The bedsheet was neatly folded, like a perfect block of tofu. Ding Liu's eyes widened. She stepped back two paces, then turned toward Ye Liuxi's room, her excitement bubbling up—she wanted to shout, yet was afraid of making noise; she wanted to speak, yet found her words stumbling. For a moment, she waved her arms and gestured wildly. A while later, she turned around and grabbed Gao Shen's sleeve tightly, nearly pulling half of it down. She meant: Do you understand? Do you grasp it? Do you understand how I feel? High Shen felt particularly awkward, as though he had stumbled upon someone’s private secret. He gestured to Ding Liu to speak softly, then held his breath as he went to close the door—so casual when opening it, now closing it felt like stealing. While doing so, he lowered his voice: “Little Liu, don’t make a fuss.” “Such things are private matters. They don’t want anyone to know. Just treat it as if you didn’t see it at all—let’s all pretend we didn’t.” Ding Liu wasn’t entirely satisfied: “But it’s not anything bad…” High Shen replied: “Privacy is privacy. We’ve already intruded by opening their door. If we now make a noise or comment directly, it will only make them feel uncomfortable.” Ding Liu pouted—her sister, Xi, who always treated everything with such indifference, would surely never feel embarrassed. Well, then, since High Shen had made such a serious point, she would just hold off for now. Suddenly, a sound of the door opening came from behind. Both of them felt a sudden tingle, turning around at the same time, realizing they had been caught red-handed, their faces as crimson as monkey bottoms. Changdong opened the door to go to the restroom, looking weary, with dark, purplish shadows under his eyes, clearly having slept poorly. He was adjusting his clothes naturally and greeted Ding Liu with a cheerful, “Good morning.” Ding Liu: “…Good morning.” “Is there something you need?” Ding Liu stammered: “No, not really…” “I just thought I heard you call me.” Ding Liu quickly corrected herself: “Yes, actually, I wanted to tell you—those turtle-back hibiscus flowers have bloomed.” She gently bumped her elbow against Gao Shen to show she wasn’t speaking alone. Gao Shen also felt a bit at a loss: “Yes, they have indeed bloomed. The sun isn’t too hot today—actually, you can even touch them.” Changdong nodded once, indicating he had heard. What strange people these two really are.