His fuzzy head kneeling between her thighs showed some inexperience, the muscles and bones of his broad shoulders tapering down into smooth, athletic lines. His handsome features were both serious and wanton, displaying a kind of straightforward yet arrogant sensuality. Looking up again, that ambiguous, indulgent smile at his moist lips, his kisses carrying her taste, brushing aside Miao Jing’s disheveled, damp hair, and amid her surging novel sensations, whispering things that made her blush against her ear.

After her pleasure slowly ebbed, they slept again, cuddling without reservation, cheeks touching, limbs intertwined, sleeping with necks crossed, like lovers in the heat of romance or a long-married couple. The golden evening sun painted the windows, its slightly red glow wrapping their skin like a layer of gorgeous, dazzling color. He kissed the girl in his arms, his palms kneading her sore, soft body, gently asking if she still hurt.

She was soft as water, but he was hard as stone. Chen Yi had bought a box of contraceptives at the pharmacy, not verbally expressing his desire, just rubbing his cheek against her shoulder. Having spent so long together, their mutual understanding was ingrained in their bones—one kiss was enough to ignite their bodies, their physical union beginning from this moment.

He opened her fingers, their ten digits interlacing pressed against the pillow, entering her body after sufficient preparation. His previous gentleness transformed into domineering intensity, his eyes dark yet burning, his handsome face taut with long-held restraint and desire. His powerful honey-colored physique was already covered in a thin layer of sweat during the wild rhythm, gleaming with an alluring sensuality. Veins bulged on his sweat-dripping neck, his lips involuntarily releasing suppressed pants as he lowered his head to kiss the now extremely enchanting Miao Jing, her clear eyes already lost in a daze. He murmured her name, forcefully impacting her delicate body, both his roguish intensity and tender consideration fully revealed at this moment. Finally, they reached their climax together, embracing tightly in their bodies’ trembling spasms, caressing each other’s still-tingling bodies amid heavy breathing.

Wiping away that hint of unspeakable melancholic loss in his heart, the experience was certainly pleasurable. First taste of passion, with the most special person in one’s life, all joys and sorrows connected to them, their relationship too complex to be defined by simple emotions, making the pleasure particularly intense.

That day, Miao Jing barely walked, forced to lie in bed lost in thought, hearing clattering sounds from the kitchen where Chen Yi was cooking noodles, whistling a melodious tune. Finally, he emerged shirtless carrying two bowls of noodles. Seeing his satisfied yet casual, unrestrained appearance, she couldn’t help but smile. When he saw this, she tried to hide her smile demurely. His chest and back were covered in marks from her fingers. He pretended to be cold as he strode over, asking what she was smiling at. She wouldn’t admit it. Chen Yi reached out to pinch her lips’ corners. Miao Jing dodged and fell back onto the bed, but he quickly caught her, holding the enchanting woman in his arms, giving her another passionate kiss, and stroking her long hair before carrying her out to eat.

This was Miao Jing’s first time eating his cooking—bland noodles topped with two undercooked fried eggs and leftover braised duck leg from the previous night. She took small bites as Chen Yi asked if it tasted good. Miao Jing said it was too bland. He coldly snorted, his expression cool and aloof, sneering that of course she would find it bland—all the salt for the noodles was in his bowl, taking the opportunity to slander the overly salty noodles she used to cook for him.

She giggled, Miao Jing rarely had such moments of open joy, her eyes curved in happiness, starry gaze bright, showing indescribable pure beauty. He stared at her, unable to resist pulling her into his embrace—if Miao Jing wasn’t Miao Jing, if she were a girl from an ordinary happy family if she didn’t have to travel thousands of miles to another city if she didn’t have to wash clothes and cook to support herself, if she didn’t have to endure hardships beyond her age, what would she be like?

But that kind of ordinary and happy life, he couldn’t give her either.

This meal wasn’t finished as they moved back to the bed. Youth always has inexhaustible energy and emotions to release. His curiosity about her body was explosive, and she was always entranced by his physique and strength. Now that their relationship had progressed to this stage, some restraints were thrown aside. Their wonderful connection was always addictive, wanting to act on every desire, wanting to feel each other with their pure, smooth bodies, wanting to embed the other within themselves.

They lay side by side resting when Chen Yi received a phone call. He got up to shower, change clothes, and head out, instructing Miao Jing to rest early and call him if anything happened, then hurriedly left. She watched his figure disappear through the doorway from the foot of the bed, dragged her tired body up, put on his T-shirt, threw the dirty bedding and clothes into the washing machine, and while listening to its rumbling sound, gazed absently at her college acceptance letter.

She spent an entire day alone at home. Chen Yi didn’t return until late the next night, reeking of alcohol, with traces of blood and wounds on his cheeks and jaw. He didn’t think much of it, going to the bathroom first to treat his wounds. Miao Jing heard movement outside and got up, encountering Chen Yi applying medicine in front of the mirror. He was never one to stay out of trouble; over the years he had accumulated various wounds, which Chen Yi never took seriously. She took over the cotton swab to treat his wounds while listening to him casually say it was nothing serious, just someone causing trouble, and he had taken a thrown bottle for the boss.

He then asked what she had eaten that day, and what she did at home, saying if she felt bored, he could buy more food and things to pass the time.

Miao Jing’s expression was calm as she quietly chatted with him for a few moments before turning to go back to her room to sleep. When Chen Yi came out from his shower, he found her door closed and the room dark. Originally planning to return to his room, he paused halfway, reaching out tentatively to touch Miao Jing’s door. With a light push, it opened—the door hadn’t even been fully closed, just pulled to.

Whatever the reason, his heart filled with irrepressible sweetness—she was waiting for him to return, waiting for him to come closer.

So they naturally began sleeping together, their bodies graceful and tender or strong and fluid in the moonlight, showing a kind of vibrantly alive beauty. Kisses roaming entire bodies or the friction of intertwined forms made the moonlight three times more seductive. They curiously and unrestrainedly explored each other’s bodies, like a feast of knowing marrow and taste. Under the cover of night, there was always an endless pleasure, the pleasure that coursed through their entire bodies, deep into their bones, its aftermath continuing into dreams.

Miao Jing lay on the bed flushed and sweaty all over, still lazily recovering, not even having the energy to glare or frown at the smell of tobacco. Chen Yi always liked to lean against the headboard smoking after sex, casually stroking her hot, sticky body while chatting with her intermittently.

They talked about childhood things, his wild and volatile personality, leading a group of neighborhood kids to explore society, the most unruly and playful times, experiencing all sorts of people and things, always having amazing stories—like outsmarting adults, playing tricks at school, testing courage in graveyards at midnight, adventurous camping in deep mountains…

He told stories vividly, and she listened entranced, her beautiful face showing moving expressions, even more attentive than when he was eight or nine listening to strange gossip at neighbors’ homes. She marveled at how he could have so many extraordinary experiences, feeling somewhat envious. She had been obediently numb since childhood, her experiences from young to old could be counted as barren, the only excitement being when she was with him, almost pale to the point of tedium.

Even more envious were the adolescent experiences, talking about crazy and childish boys and girls. Miao Jing, with her proud and cold demeanor, had admirers who dared not approach despite their desires. Chen Yi, since middle school, had been followed by a group of admiring girls, not to mention the women who later flirted with him. The contrast was obvious and strong.

Chen Yi held his cigarette, unable to suppress his smile, though its meaning was unclear. Truthfully, if it weren’t for her at home, who knows how unrestrained he might have become? He didn’t know when she had become a different kind of existence, becoming like the invisible string on a kite, tethering his heart.

With smoke in his mouth, he lazily bent down to kiss her, thinking of the worry she had caused him these years, cursing her as an ungrateful little brat, passing all the smoke into her mouth, letting her hold it, then sucking the sweet smoke mixed in her mouth. Miao Jing furrowed her beautiful brows and pouted in the complaint, saying he would eventually be killed by cigarettes. He said fine, rakishly saying he wanted to die in the nicotine of her mouth. Miao Jing pressed her lips tightly, choked by the smoke, coughing into the pillow, as he grabbed her to sit on top of him, his face wearing a naughty smile, vigorously teasing her.

The atmosphere immediately turned amorous. He half-reclined on the bed, pillows propping up his head and neck, one hand lazily taking drags from his cigarette, the other gripping Miao Jing’s waist, his handsome eyes half-closed, watching the swaying enchanting scene before him with lazy yet immersed burning gaze, contentedly exhaling a breath of smoke.

In the pale smoke, Miao Jing brushed aside her long hair, her delicate hands pressing against his flat, hard abdomen, rising and falling a few times before stopping with misty, enchanting eyes. He coldly laughed, mocking her uselessness, thrust his strong waist once, then immediately flipped her beneath him, still rakishly holding half a cigarette in his mouth.

Afraid of ash falling on her flawless skin, he held the cigarette between his long fingers, his wrist with protruding veins resting on the bed edge, using only one hand to support space above her body, kneeling between her legs thrusting rapidly, his demeanor wild and unrestrained yet cynical. That wrist swayed against the bed edge with his movements, cigarette ash scattering down, the glowing red tip of the cigarette rising and falling, occasionally taking a drag of intoxicating nicotine during breaks in their lovemaking, then kissing her sweet lips again—too outrageous and too unrestrained.

Finally, the extinguished cigarette fell straight to the floor, a wisp of smoke like a beautiful dream. His handsome face sank into abandon as he reached out to scoop up the soft, limp person into his arms, penetrating her from below, lowering his head to capture her parted cherry lips at the moment of entry, swallowing the tobacco-flavored breath from both their mouths.

She liked his domineering intensity or roguish gentleness, not the kind of gentle tenderness that drowns one. They always couldn’t help but joke or argue, emotions never becoming too low or too immersed, yet still maintaining heart-fluttering excitement.

The sweet time passed quickly, and their life changed to a different mode. Because they slept late, Miao Jing always needed to catch up on sleep in the morning, and with such obvious marks on her body, she was reluctant to leave home. During the day she slept, watched shows, read books, and did housework, waiting for Chen Yi to return at night. During this period, he left early and returned late, seemingly very busy, but no matter how late, he would come home, and they would share the bed, sleeping nestled together.

The situation was indeed tense. Chen Yi wanted to send Miao Jing away early. The police were already setting up their net, and several incidents had occurred in Teng City. One was in the pork supply market, where Zhai Fengmao’s monopolistic operation had already provoked competitors’ dissatisfaction. Both sides, with their respective networks, had already had several confrontations at slaughterhouses and major supply markets. There was also the real estate demolition and relocation, which involved real fist fights and armed conflicts, with arrows secretly pointing toward Zhang Shi and Zhai Fengmao. Perhaps shortly, there would be a major conflict, and the police would use this breakthrough to catch everyone in one net, arresting all they could.

In the best case scenario, they could thoroughly grab hold of Zhai Fengmao’s weakness, digging out the forces and networks behind him. Then perhaps Chen Yi could withdraw unscathed. Worst case scenario, he would be exposed before the police action and become a sacrifice.

Since the police report incident, Miao Jing didn’t much care what Chen Yi did. After that police report, Zhou Kang’an and Chen Yi had both made excuses to gloss over things in front of Miao Jing. Now she couldn’t do anything, but seeing him hurrying about every day, always receiving messy phone calls, always having bizarre things calling him away, Miao Jing still felt vaguely anxious and uneasy.

Chen Yi told her to pack her luggage early, to leave early, without any hint of wanting to keep her or reluctance to let her go. He never said anything about her coming back, coming back for winter or summer break, coming back to see him. Even during their most passionate nights, he never mentioned any words of tenderness. She first said thank you to him, and he naturally accepted her body’s gratitude, using it as a way to release desire and emotion—she had to leave, at least for four years, and who could say what the situation would be after four years? Better to just enjoy the physical pleasure now. As for the complexity of their feelings for each other, they tacitly agreed to never deeply explore or analyze it.

After making love, as they rested together, they would also discuss some strange topics. He would say a lot, telling her techniques for making friends and living life, studying well and working well, but most often talking about men.

“When you find a boyfriend in the future, always use protection during sex. Some men look decent but are filthy inside. Don’t believe men’s excuses about not using protection—so many women in nightclubs get pregnant, and they’re the ones who suffer.

“If a man smokes, pay attention to his cigarettes and lighters. A man with multiple lighters isn’t clean. Don’t find trash—all men are dogs. You need to be more ruthless than men, then they’ll follow behind you wagging their tails. Be clear about good men too. Be even more careful about the wealthy ones’ character, or they’ll have no bottom line when they act badly. For poor ones, you need to keep them under tight control, so they can’t fly from your palm.”

These earnest words were like an older brother’s careful instructions, yet he pulled up her waist, burying himself in her wet, soft, sweet body, slowly thrusting his hips, bending down to kiss her cheek amid intimate sounds: “I’m… like a beast.

Who else would teach techniques for choosing men while making passionate love?

Her chest felt congested, eyes growing hot as she lay on his arm, bitterly instructing him to reduce his wild ways, stop finding women, saying AIDS and STDs would make people despise and disgust him. Chen Yi directly sealed her mouth with his—he had no other women, he only had her, only her alone.

Who cares about the future, I just want now.

“Don’t be a bad person.” She gave him a law lesson, telling him not to do illegal things—drugs, gambling, prostitution, robbery, theft, murder, arson, intentional injury—how many years each crime carried, how serious the harm was, how miserable life in prison would be.

Chen Yi lay on top of her, laughing into her body, his chest making her body shake: “I see you didn’t choose law as your university major, why so eager to be a lawyer? How do you know all this so clearly? Do you think I specifically do all these bad things?”

Miao Jing’s expression froze, lowering her eyelids, her eyes rolling around, not speaking.

He turned her body over, hanging her on his own, face to face, her arms around his shoulders, his around her waist, bodies intertwined as one, kissing passionately, making love thoroughly, engraving each other’s breath and feeling into their bones.

“Live well, Miao Jing, have a good life,” he instructed her both domineeringly and gently. “This broken place Teng City has nothing to do with you anymore, I have nothing to do with you anymore. I’ve got my big things to do, don’t come back to be my burden.”

She couldn’t help but cry, sobbing against his shoulder, saying bitterly that she understood.

They said many things and talked about the changes in her third year of middle school and the agreed-upon separation after the college entrance exam. He had told her many times to leave, not to come back, and now finally the day of departure had arrived. She also said okay, said she didn’t care, that she increasingly disliked Teng City, disliked this hot, boring city.

During their last time together, Miao Jing barely left the house, staying home every day, remembering bits and pieces of these years, preparing her college luggage, keeping the house spotlessly clean, or staying with Chen Yi, exhausting all energy making love. After passion, they would nestle together talking, from deep night until dawn, curled in his embrace sharing a cigarette, kissing intimately in the tobacco scent. When she opened her eyes again, daylight would be bright outside, the bed beside her empty, retaining traces of lovemaking and special scents, testifying to the previous night’s passion.

This room she had lived in for ten years also needed clearing. Miao Jing didn’t have many things—some high school books and test papers, a few old clothes, and miscellaneous items she couldn’t take. Chen Yi said to leave them, he would clean everything after she left. She only packed one small suitcase, her life sparse, seemingly without any precious items she had to take. Chen Yi suddenly remembered Wei Mingzhen, asking Miao Jing if she had news of her mother, if she wanted to visit her hometown during summer break, maybe try to find her—after all, she was her birth mother, and now that she had gotten into university, it could be considered a success. If mother and daughter could reunite, it would be a good outcome.

Miao Jing shook her head. She hadn’t planned to look for her now, hadn’t thought about how to look. She was already an adult, past the age of most needing a family. Now she only hoped her mother was still alive, living well like herself, and it would be fine if they never met again in this life.

University started in early September, but Chen Yi wanted her to leave in mid-August. But in his heart, he still couldn’t bear it, dragging it out day by day, finally buying her a train ticket for late August—just one ticket, requiring her to travel alone. He had business and wouldn’t send her off. Seeing her lower her eyes in silent response, he thought for a moment, asking if she had classmates going to the same city for university, who could travel together—Chen Yi knew she was used to being independent since childhood, could take care of herself, and felt at ease letting her go alone.

He was still absent for important occasions. Miao Jing couldn’t say she was disappointed, but the night they bought the ticket, she bit his shoulder hard. He winced in pain but smiled as he kissed her lips, and she vindictively bit his lip until it bled. The crimson blood stained her enchanting lips, and in that moment Chen Yi lost some control, pinning her firmly to the bed, saying vulgar things, his sharp features showing all his irritation with her. He spanked her raised bottom hard, finally falling onto her panting, his long limbs sprawled out pressing her breathless, the two of them falling asleep exhausted together.

A few days before leaving, Chen Yi suddenly came home at noon to check if she was up, bringing some food. Seeing her listlessly picking at the food with chopsticks, he pushed a bank card across the table, his long fingers tapping twice on the card’s surface, saying the password was her birthday, telling Miao Jing to keep the card safe and take it to school.

Biting a cigarette, he said: “There’s some money, not much, for your tuition.”

“How much?” Miao Jing asked.

“A bit over ten thousand,” he thought for a moment. “For four years of university. If the money’s not enough, earn it yourself. There are many part-time jobs for university students now, and big cities have lots of work opportunities. If you work a few months during winter and summer breaks, you’ll have enough for next year’s tuition and living expenses.”

He told her to stay at school and work during breaks.

“Are you afraid I’ll come back?” Miao Jing stared straight at him. “Afraid I’ll disturb your life?”

“I’m finally relaxed and free. If you come back controlling me, annoying me, arguing with me every day, who wants to live like that?” He showed a cynical smile. “Besides, if I’m dating other women then, bringing them home, and you’re there watching, that would be awkward.”

Miao Jing’s face turned cold: “Don’t worry, I won’t come back.”

She expressionlessly pushed back her chair, turning to go back to her room. Chen Yi called after her, telling her to take the card.

“I don’t want it.”

“How can you not take it? How will you study, live, and make friends without money?” Chen Yi furrowed his brows. “Take it. We’re even now, we’ve even shared a bed… In the end, neither of us owes the other anything.”

Even now—when money can be discussed, don’t talk about feelings. She gave herself, he responded, neither owing the other anything, each walking away clean, neither looking back.

He caught up with her, forcing the card into her hand. She gripped the thin card, gritting her teeth to say thank you, thank you for his final care.

Chen Yi smiled and stroked her soft hair, then wandered out the door.

He didn’t come home for two days straight. Miao Jing called him, and chatted briefly, he said he was busy with things, and told her to stay good at home, not wander around randomly. He impatiently hung up the phone. When he returned at three or four in the morning, his clothes were stained with blood, his whole person excited, eyes completely bloodshot, like being in heat. After showering, he started frantically working her over, from the bathroom to the sofa, then to the bedroom. Miao Jing was both exhausted and in pain. He put her slender legs on his shoulders and bent down to lick her swollen parts, his tongue like waves, making her cry and shout, pounding his shoulders and chest.

She was still young, and couldn’t withstand his intensity, but their time together was too short. He wanted to enjoy it desperately, coaxing her both domineeringly and gently, calling her good sister, good baby—in ten years of knowing him, she’d never seen him so tender, all poured out in bed.

On the day she left, he especially stayed home. Her room was already cleaned up, not much left, leaving the final clearing to him. They went out, and he drove her to the train station and accompanied her through security to wait, his manner relaxed, still taking several phone calls, seemingly showing no sadness at parting.

The train slowly pulled into the platform. He stood casually in front of her, tall and straight, young and handsome, hands on his hips, yet with a somewhat rakish air.

“Train’s here, time to go.”

“Chen—”

“Call me brother.” He sighed. “Miao Jing, we’ve known each other for ten years, it hasn’t been easy.”

She gazed at him silently: “Brother.”

He embraced her thin shoulders, and lightly kissed her hair, whispering her name in a voice only she could hear, just like during their intimate moments.

The train slowly started moving. She watched his figure from the window, their gazes meeting for an instant as he raised his eyebrows in a brilliant smile, his smile captivating, but his black eyes seemed covered in a layer of mist, floating with faint emotions she couldn’t understand, like winter fog hovering over thin ice on the water.

Miao Jing blinked, tears falling in streams. The train accelerated past, the figure before her already gone, that smile like an illusion, disappearing in an instant.

On the train, she secretly shed more tears than she had in eighteen years. The passengers around looked at each other awkwardly, seeing her so young and traveling alone, not knowing what had happened to cause so many tears. They passed her tissues, but she bit her lip, shaking her head, wiping away tears, staring blankly out the window.

The train reached its destination, and she successfully boarded the university’s welcome bus. She called Chen Yi, saying she had arrived safely. His end was deafeningly noisy, probably in a KTV. Covering his ear, he said he knew, told her to live well, and hung up after barely two sentences. Later he never actively contacted her, never asked even half a question.

Miao Jing held that bank card, went to the ATM to withdraw money, and saw the number—her pupils suddenly dilated. He had given her eighty thousand yuan. The university’s annual tuition was only 6,000, and with her lifestyle, this money was enough for her to live a peaceful and comfortable life for four years at the university.

But Chen Yi’s phone became very hard to reach. Later he explained that the money wasn’t too much or too little, just enough for her to live an ordinary university student’s life. If it wasn’t enough, she still needed to work part-time herself. The source of the money wasn’t problematic—he had been saving since he was eighteen, told her to use it with peace of mind, to consider it compensation for sleeping with her these last two months.

Miao Jing clenched her fists in anger, her face pale, not wanting to thank him at all.

They stayed in intermittent contact for a while, both their emotions seeming somewhat detached. His return calls were always very late and casual. The last phone call was very brief—he said, “Miao Jing, let’s leave it at this, don’t call anymore.” He had other women now and was busy with things, had no time to chat with her.

Later Chen Yi changed his phone number and never contacted her again.