A strong intuition surged and swirled in my heart - she came here on the snow today, and the "sense of urgency" of the village bank was just a light cover. Her real intention was more like throwing a stone to test the truth, or in other words... she was the poison bait wrapped in honey! She actually used her body as a trap, turned herself into the most tempting bait, and threw it in front of me without any defense, betting on whether I would bite the hook!
This thought sent a chill down my spine. However, what made me more alert was that she did not intend to leave, but stood up calmly. With a flick of her slender jade fingers, she took off her fine blue camel-hair coat and casually draped it over the back of the chair, as if she was taking off an insignificant costume.
The moment the coat slipped off, it was as if an invisible barrier was removed. The close-fitting cashmere sweater inside was like a second layer of skin, outlining her exquisite and convex curves in a thrilling way - her full breasts stood proudly, her slender waist was barely slender enough to be held in one hand, and her smooth lines in the dim light exuded a silent temptation that was enough to make any normal man's blood boil. She stood there, without words, she was a vivid and charming creature that could make everyone fall in love with her.
My eyes wandered around her uncontrollably, and finally stopped at the depths of her eyes that were burning with fire. The emotions surging in them were complicated and hard to discern: was it an ambiguous flirtation? Was it a slow and steady test? Or was it a carefully woven, sticky and indissoluble ambiguity? This gaze was like a hook with a fine thread, plucking the strings of reason again and again.
I couldn't help but compare this charming woman in front of me, who exudes fatal attraction like a rose in the dark night, with her younger sister at home, whose figure overlaps but whose temperament is completely different: this pair of twin beauties, although their appearance is like reflection in a mirror, their souls are like two poles.
The spring at home is like a spring rushing down a stream. It is clear and sharp, with a refreshing innocence. When you get close to it, it washes away your fatigue. Although it does not have a strong aftertaste, it gives you a kind of steady and stable nourishment, which is an indispensable coolness in the hot life.
The Peng Xiaohui in front of me is like a carefully brewed, thick honey that cannot be melted. She is sweet and mellow, exuding a rich fragrance that makes me intoxicated. Just one look at her can seduce me and make me fall in love with her. Although I know that there may be a bone-eating poison hidden deep in this sweetness, her amazing charm still makes me feel an impulse that is almost like a moth flying at her - I am not afraid to pick up this cup of poison and drink it all!
"Do you miss Xiaomin?" I picked up the teacup and asked casually, but my eyes were like probes, trying to capture information from her subtle expressions.
The corners of her lips curled up into a faint smile, like a dragonfly skimming across the water, fleeting: "We've gone our separate ways since high school, and we've been apart more often than together. It's only been this year that we've been able to barely live together." She paused, her tone as calm as a deep pool, "Sadness of separation? It's long faded between us, as faint as... a water mark."
I put down my teacup, no longer concealing my gaze, locking onto her intently, and suddenly changed the subject with a barely perceptible sharpness: "Miss Xiaomin is diligent and hardworking. She is an impeccable 'nanny' in my house. I just don't know..." I deliberately dragged out the last syllable, staring into her eyes, "Is President Yue... satisfied with the 'role' she plays?" This was the real stepping stone tonight.
There was no ripple on her face, as if she was wearing a perfect mask, and her voice was still gentle: "As long as you, County Magistrate Guan, are satisfied. As her elder sister, I'm always worried that she is too stubborn and ignorant, and will make you unhappy." She easily pushed the problem back without any leaks.
I sneered in my heart but kept a calm expression on my face, and recited the poem I had prepared earlier: "Borrowing the east wind to ascend to the sky, once the line is cut, I will be free. Don't say that my life is scattered like clouds, but turn into a carving in the sky." The voice was not loud, but every word was clear and had a certain penetrating power.
This poem was like a stone thrown into a quiet lake. A clear ripple of surprise finally crossed Peng Xiaohui's eyes, which had always been as calm as water. She sat up slightly and looked at me: "What does this poem of County Magistrate Guan mean?"
I met her gaze, a meaningful smile on my lips, and kicked the ball back: "Poetry is inexpressible. The benevolent see the water, and the wise enjoy the water. How you understand it depends entirely on... your heart."
After a brief silence, the faint smile on her lips reappeared, but it seemed to be stained with an indescribable desolation and insight: "Yes," she gently gathered the broken hair at her temples, her eyes cast towards the gloomy sky outside the window, her voice ethereal, "Look, who is not a kite being pulled by a string? Who doesn't want to break the string one day, get rid of the hand on the ground, and be completely free and at ease?" She retracted her gaze and fell on my face again. There was no yearning in her eyes, only an almost cold sobriety, "But the kites probably have forgotten that they fly by relying on the never-ending struggle between the wind and the string. Without that string holding them tightly..." She paused slightly, and every word she said was as clear as ice beads falling to the ground, "In a moment, they will not be free, but will be shattered into pieces."
The last word, with a fatalistic heaviness, struck in the silent air. She was not sighing, but rather stating a law of survival soaked in blood and tears.
Her words, like a cold needle, accurately pierced the hardest core of reality. I was speechless for a moment. In this world, who can really break free from the visible and invisible threads? It is the thrilling chess game in the workplace, the fetters of blood ties, the web woven by desire, and the shackles forged by gratitude... They are inextricably entangled around the body, hanging in the air, unable to move.
A heavy feeling of powerlessness welled up in my chest and turned into a long sigh, almost crushing the silent air: "But in this world... not everyone longs to soar into the sky. Perhaps, standing firmly on solid ground, watching the clouds roll by and listening to the flowers bloom and fall, is not another kind of scenery?" My words were filled with compassion for her, and perhaps for all the people struggling to survive.
Hearing this, Peng Xiaohui raised a bitter and desolate smile. There was no light in that smile, only the ashes of resignation. "Does it matter whether we are in heaven or on earth?" She shook her head gently, her voice as erratic as a wisp of smoke that was about to dissipate. "What matters is that the debt owed must be repaid. If it's not me today, it will be Xiaomin tomorrow. We all want to be proud and have the innocence of dying in glory..." Her voice suddenly sank, with a despair that penetrated deep into her bones, beating her heart with each word, "But the reality is often that we can't even be a piece of rubble!"
This naked, tearful accusation hit me hard in the heart like a heavy hammer! Instantly, a hot, almost burning sympathy and pity surged up, overcoming all the considerations and hesitations. I looked at the woman who was pushed to the edge of the cliff by fate and power, my voice trembling slightly with excitement, with an unquestionable determination: "Tell me! Xiaohui, tell me...how can I help you?"
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