Chapter 34
Mo Daoyan placed his palm on the back of her hot and damp neck: "Are you sweating so much?"
She didn't know where to put her hands, so she circled them in the air and then returned them to her knees.
"Your collar is soaked. Let me help you take it off." He stood in front of her, solemnly performing a ritual. He lifted the hem of her undershirt with both hands and slowly rolled it up. The sweat had nothing to do with the thickness of the clothing; instead, it became thicker as it subsided. He rubbed her luminous white waist, the smooth skin there making his throat burn. "You're sweating so much now. What are we going to do later?"
She moved slightly, raised her hand and fanned her cheek gently: "I'll go wipe it."
Just as he was about to stand up, he heard Mo Daoyan say, "I'll wipe it."
Mo Daoyan wrung out a towel soaked in warm water until half dry, and handled it meticulously as if it were precious porcelain. He wiped from the hairline on her forehead to the sweat stains on her temples, then to the sides of her nose and the texture of her neck... When he wiped her back, he helped her take off her undershirt and touched the bra clasp.
She turned slightly to the side, her voice trembling: "This... I want to do it myself."
He started to take off her socks again, half squatting on one knee, holding her soft ankle. When he took off the second pair, he chuckled. The volume of the laughter was very low and it was not very clear in the quiet bedroom, but Tong Yufei's hearing was as sharp as a nocturnal animal at this moment, and he immediately caught the meaning behind the laughter. He was laughing at how her cartoon pattern socks were out of place.
She jerked her foot back, grabbed the silk sheet and wrapped herself around it, leaving him with a taut outline: "I'm wearing mine, what's your business?"
"It's quite powerful, just in time for later."
Mo Daoyan turned off the light, and darkness flooded the room like a tide. Tong Yufei was very grateful for the protective film woven by the gentle darkness. If all her disguises were seen through by that sharp gaze, she would only feel embarrassed. As for Mo Daoyan, he would rather have an unreal shadow than see her wearing that fake smile mask. He could not guarantee that he would not be vicious when he saw that smile.
At this moment, he didn't want to say anything hurtful, whether intentional or unintentional.
The mattress sagged slightly, and as he lifted the corner of the quilt and slid in, a gust of cold air blew in. She instinctively shrank inward, but he pulled her back into his arms, his chest pressed against her back, his palms sliding slowly down her shoulders, moving at an unhurried pace, not rushing to get straight to the point. They had already had several intimate encounters, and her body was familiar territory to him. So, using his hand as a brush, he meticulously traced her spine, like copying a delicate diagram of the human skeleton. He slowed down his pace in areas that comforted her, letting the warm fingertips linger for a few seconds. When he touched her sensitive spots, he suddenly applied force, bringing that indescribable feeling to an extreme.
In the pitch-black night, his movements were as rigorous as an experiment, yet more tender than a simple experiment. He then felt the reaction of every part of her skin. Her breathing gradually became irregular, from small gasps to intermittent hums.
When her voice was about to get out of control, she suddenly turned around: "Mo Daoyan, don't treat me as a test subject."
There was anger in her voice. He had aroused her to the point where she could no longer control herself, but she remained calm, as if she was just watching. It was unfair.
"You certainly haven't done any proper experiments."
Some people talk about experimental subjects, as if they are very low-level things that can only be manipulated, but human civilization is a grand exploratory experiment, and experiments in life can be seen everywhere. In this dialectical experiment of intimate relationships, if he really regards her as a pure research object, he can ignore her happiness and only focus on grabbing his own pleasure. The irony of the experiment lies in this. Every participant carries the dual identities of researcher and researched at the same time, and he and she are no exception.
Since she couldn't stand him being just a "test subject", he would become a part of the experiment as soon as possible, as she wished. He turned over and buried her under him, stroking her trembling jaw, straightening her face which was now filled with a stubbornness he had never seen before, and covered her mouth with soft lips. When the kiss with revenge gradually got out of control, she groaned, and those unspoken exclamations turned into whimpers like a small animal in his kiss.
The moonlight filtered through the gauze curtains, casting a silver glow into the room. He pushed aside the bangs that hung down on her cheeks and was surprised to find that her eyes, which were always bright and lively, were now filled with tears.
For the first time in his life, he backed off: "Are you dumb?"
She whispered back, "You didn't ask."
“You are…”
After arriving halfway, Mo Daoyan had already returned to his room, but the unfinished business was like an unsolvable math problem, making him toss and turn in bed. Finally, he knocked on her door and said he came to pick up his lost watch. After taking the watch, he twisted the metal strap around his finger and was reluctant to put it on.
He suddenly asked, "Do you want to try again?"
She was spreading the velvet sheets. Although she had failed before, the sheets were already wrinkled beyond recognition. Frankly speaking, she didn't want to do it at all. The pain in her body had not completely subsided, but she thought that she had to get through this stage sooner or later. If not tonight, then tomorrow night, the night after, or some uncertain night in the future, she would have to start all over again and go through the same torment. Since she had to face it sooner or later, she might as well solve it as soon as possible.
She silently took off her nightgown and got into bed: "Come in."
Mo Daoyan did not move immediately: "If you really don't want to..."
"This day will come sooner or later."
When she smiled, he felt it was very deliberate, but when she stopped smiling, he felt something was missing.
When their body temperatures blended together again, he whispered to her, "Do you really want it?"
"I do, but I don't."
How to say:
"I want to be closer to you. It's just physical pain. I can't pretend it doesn't exist."
This was a very pertinent truth. He scratched her nose lightly and said, "After suffering comes happiness."
With the hand that had calibrated precision instruments, Mo Daoyan accurately unlocked the code of her body's excitement. As passion surged, he suddenly flicked on the bedside lamp and watched as the facade on her face crumbled under the bright light, revealing her most genuine trembling. He wanted to take this opportunity to get a good look at her; such moments were rare. He deliberately slowed his progress, pausing after every push. When a hint of unbearable pain crossed her brow, he kissed her just in time, and tasted the lingering papaya toothpaste on the corner of her lips, mingled with the salty bitterness of her tears.
My aunt said that we need to have some spiritual communication at this time, and it is most likely just a difference between individuals. Tong Yufei doesn't seem to want to hear this. If you ask her what she is thinking at the moment, there is only one answer: give her back the control of her body.
The bed sheet was twisted into thousands of ravines by her. She panted softly and crossed her arms in front of her eyes: "Turn off the lights."
He pulled her arm away forcefully: "You didn't even look at her?"
“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”
“You haven’t seen it.”
He held the back of her head and kissed her forcefully and violently, as if warning her not to try to fool him by either overt or covert means. Since they had made an agreement, she should stop doing those little tricks. She swallowed his expression and digested it over and over again. She was forced to respond to the kiss and hurriedly tried to unbutton his shirt. After several unsuccessful attempts, she reached down, but he grabbed her wrist.
"Tong Yufei, don't be so hypocritical."
She was speechless. She understood, but not completely.
After midnight, the moonlight gradually faded, and a gust of night wind rushed in through the unclosed window, taking away some of the heat as it brushed across my skin.
The third time, he was less cautious, watching the nervous look gradually disappear from her face. He let down his guard and bit his lips lightly, bending slightly to meet her, as if waiting for a kiss that had not yet come. He gently clasped her wrist over her head, deliberately delaying it until the angry light in her eyes burned into a ball of fire, then he stopped teasing and kissed her.
The night was as dark as ink, and they were like two fish swimming in a silent deep pool.
Mo Daoyan has always been a polite gentleman, and it shows in every aspect of his life. Even in this moment when he can hardly control his emotions, he still retains some clarity of mind, wiping her sweat with a towel from time to time, and putting his palm behind her head to prevent her from hitting the bed. Seeing that she is about to bite her lip, he extends his finger to her, knowing where her limit is, and even cannot lean in all the way.
Although she couldn't see every detail, she could truly feel this rare tenderness.
Her adoptive mother once said that all love in the world begins with a sudden touch of joy. If he hadn't pulled away afterwards, picked up the package and pushed the door open with such a quick and decisive movement, without even a word of goodbye, leaving the room in silence, making the tenderness just now like a flower in a mirror, she would almost have mistaken that momentary warmth for love.
Tong Yufei grabbed the blanket and wrapped herself tightly around him, then curled up on the edge of the bed, hugging her knees and looking at the mess in front of her. The pair of off-white pillows had been rubbed to the ground at some point, one leaning against the foot of the bed, the other hiding in the shadow of the desk. There was a striking red patch in the middle of the bed sheet, like a wintersweet flower knocked down by rain, and the brand-name shirt that had been promised to "shield the red" for her was still brand new on the corner of the bed, like its owner, always wandering freely in this absurd night without a speck of dust.
She spent 85 yuan to buy this bed sheet. It was a waste to use it as a disposable fast-moving consumer product. While the red color had not yet completely solidified, she quickly folded up the bed sheet, took it into the bathroom and soaked it in a basin of water. The dark red plum blossoms bloomed in the clear water. When the flower was diluted in the rippling water, the bed sheet would return to its original state without leaving any trace.
After dealing with the sheets, she hurriedly washed herself, returned to the room, opened the folded page, and continued reading the pictographic dictionary.
Tonight, she still has fifteen words to study.
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