He sifted through his memories, recalling those fragments of school days he had once dismissed with disdain. The boys at the back of the classroom huddled over a sex education manual, dissecting the female anatomy. "This is the clitoris—stimulate it, and she'll feel good." "Why do they say a woman's down there is like a flower? Because the labia majora wrap around the labia minora, petals unfolding layer by layer, and that deep, fragrant, tender passage is the most fragile heart of the bloom." Then there was their usual crude chatter. "Xu Mingguang, did you really fuck her until she was drained?" "Yeah, the first time she cried out in pain, but I didn't give a damn—just went at her hard. The second time, she was begging for it with a raspy voice, 'More, more, more,' driving me so wild my scalp tingled." Liu Xiangqian chimed in, "I've been practicing my hand skills." "So, do you get her going with foreplay or just ram it in? Can you even hit the spot?"
Chen Ling excelled in his studies, and forty percent of that was thanks to his sharp memory. Those old scenes flooded his mind. Back then, he found them dull and dirty; now, they still struck him as dull and dirty. Yet, he could still piece together something useful from them.
Right now, Yaxi lay sprawled over him, her breaths heavy and ragged. Her arousal was impossible to ignore. But her clumsy, aimless grinding told him she hadn't climaxed yet. Chen Ling got it. He gripped her ass and lifted her slightly. Turning his head aside, he avoided her gaze, hesitated for a few seconds, then squeezed her cheeks through the thin fabric of her pants with both hands. So soft. She looked slim, her weight on him featherlight, but God, she was soft—her whole body molding against him. Her ass was the softest, like it might dissolve into water with a good knead. Yes, knead it.
Yaxi's heart leaped to her throat. She could feel it distinctly—those hands of Chen Ling's, the ones that played the piano, handed her milk, and scribbled answers, were now kneading her ass. They moved like a millstone, circling slowly, deliberately. His long, knuckled fingers dug into her flesh, pressing in a chaotic rhythm, like he was playing a melody on her skin. Then, out of nowhere, those hands tightened, and her pussy slammed against his half-hard cock. He let go, only to knead her ass again and press her back into him. Again and again, the pace quickening.
Heat surged through Yaxi. Her lower body itched, aching, yet growing emptier by the second. Chen Ling's sudden take-charge attitude seemed to whisper that he'd become hers. Wetness gushed from her pussy, soaking through her panties and pants, leaving a damp circle on his trousers. Finally, after dozens of thrusts, a strange, electric rush seized her lower body. She panted softly, the pulsing inside her lingering for ages before fading, her involuntary joy trembling in her chest just as long.
With a smile, she propped herself up and called out happily, "Chen Ling," but when their eyes met, her heart sank. His gaze was unchanged from when he'd woken—distant, cool. The past ten minutes of closeness felt no different from her dreamy fantasies. His hands left her ass, and her heart hollowed out. Their lower bodies still pressed together, but while she'd come, his cock hadn't even stiffened.
Her lips twisted in a bitter smirk as she rolled to the far side of the bed. Turning her back to him, she shut her eyes and muttered flatly, "Hmm, you did alright. Just that thing down there isn't up to it."
Chen Ling didn't flinch at her jab. Under the blanket, he found her hand, gripping her wrist tight, his voice faint and breathy. "Yaxi."
"Hmm?"
"Could you help me go downstairs? My leg is killing me."
Yaxi's heart sank as she turned back to examine his knee, which appeared dislocated. The misalignment seemed worse than before. Was it because he had exerted himself earlier? She quickly stood up and helped him rise.
Chen Ling's forehead glistened with cold sweat as he silently watched Yaxi scurry about. She retrieved an old black puffer coat from the wardrobe and awkwardly slipped it onto him. Then, rummaging through the medicine box in the storage cabinet, she handed him some painkillers with warm water. She wrapped a gray scarf snugly around his neck—so snug that he loosened it slightly to avoid choking.
His face flushed red as their eyes met, hers teasing. "Did you do that on purpose?"
Yaxi grinned widely. "Of course not! I just don't know my own strength."
This playful side of Yaxi was something Chen Ling had never seen at school.
Braving the biting wind, they made their way to a decrepit single-story house near the shabby south gate of the neighborhood.
As they opened the door, a pungent mix of herbal remedies, Western medicines, and the musty scent of aged cotton coats filled the air.
Old Man Yu barked at Yaxi, "Yaxi girl, what are you waiting for? Shut the door already! It's freezing out there. My patients might lose years off their lives if this cold gets to them!"