WHCTIL - 50

The water stopped, and the night fell silent. 

Every sound seemed magnified. 

Jiang Chuan leaned down, kissing the back of her neck. 

Qin Tang panted heavily, barely managing to say: “I haven’t finished washing yet...” 

“We’ll wash later. Save water.” 

With that, he thrust hard beneath her. 

Qin Tang wasn’t tall enough. With him holding her waist, she stood on tiptoes, her legs trembling, unable to support herself. She relied entirely on his strength to hold her up. Her hands slowly slid down the wall, and with one powerful thrust, her body lurched forward. 

Jiang Chuan hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her back into his embrace. With one hand, he pinned her wrists to the wall, continuing to thrust without pause. 

Qin Tang nearly passed out from the force of his movements. 

In the quiet night, broken moans filled the air. 

Her cries made Jiang Chuan’s scalp tingle, his expression growing more strained as he thrust harder. 

He leaned close to her ear, his breaths restrained but heavy: “Does it feel good?” 

“Mm...” She gasped for air, her consciousness hazy, her eyelids fluttering. 

He became more intense. Qin Tang trembled lightly, her legs shaking as her body went limp. Her voice quivered with tears: “I can’t stand anymore...” 

Jiang Chuan gave her no time to catch her breath. He held her hands firmly and supported her waist, keeping her steady. 

Catching sight of the tattoo on her hand, he paused momentarily. 

He brought her hand to his lips, his thumb gently caressing it. “Did getting the tattoo hurt?” 

Qin Tang’s voice was soft, like a kitten’s mew. “I don’t remember...” 

It had hurt terribly back then, bringing tears to her eyes. 

Now, thinking about it, she couldn’t recall the pain anymore. 

She didn’t remember...

It was a good answer. 

Jiang Chuan gently kissed the back of her hand, pressed it back against the wall, and lowered his head to kiss her reddened earlobe. Her snow-white skin was flushed pink, wet and glistening like a little white fish, completely at his mercy as he turned and teased her. 

The small bathroom was filled with the man’s low, hoarse voice and the woman’s moans of surrender. 

This was an unrestrained act of passion. 

Afterward, Qin Tang felt as though her entire body had been taken apart. She collapsed limply onto him, her eyes moist and shimmering. 

Seeing her like this, Jiang Chuan couldn’t bear to continue. He quickly rinsed them both off and carried the limp Qin Tang out. 

As they passed through the corridor, a crescent moon hung in the gray-blue night sky. The moonlight was tranquil and gentle, and the late-night breeze carried a hint of coolness. 

Qin Tang swung her pale, bare feet slightly. “I want to look at the moon.” 

So Jiang Chuan held her there on the corridor to gaze at the moon. A few minutes later, she said: “Let’s not look anymore.” 

“The moon in the countryside is brighter than in the city, and rounder too,” she recalled their time in the mountains. There was no pollution, no thick, murky air—everything, even the moon, seemed more beautiful than in the city. “When can I go take photos?” 

There were still a few places in Shaanxi she hadn’t visited. 

Jiang Chuan opened the door to the room. “Maybe after some time.” 

Qin Tang lay naked on the dark sheets, her long, creamy legs wrapped around the blanket. With a tug, she cocooned herself inside. 

Jiang Chuan went over and embraced her. After a few minutes, he sat up against the headboard, lit a cigarette, and pulled her into his arms. He chuckled softly: “Still want to talk?” 

Qin Tang had been so exhausted she was almost asleep. Where would she find the energy to chat? But after resting for a while, she regained some spirit and leaned over to bite the end of his cigarette, taking a drag. His cigarettes were harsh and strong, just like him. 

That one puff invigorated her a bit. Jiang Chuan looked at her: “When did you learn to smoke?” 

Qin Tang: “About four years ago.” 

After Chen Jingsheng’s death. 

That period had been unbearable. 

In the first year after he passed, her life had been chaotic. She barely touched her camera for an entire year. Coupled with Zhou Qi falling into a coma, despair, grief, and suffocating pressure crushed her. Every time she thought about it, the pain made her curl up. 

Those days had been unbearably dark. She never imagined such a tragic event could happen to her. 

Now, looking back, she didn’t know how she had endured it. 

Jiang Chuan bit the cigarette, his gaze darker than the night: “Why?” 

Qin Tang fell silent. After a long while, her voice drifted faintly, as if from far away: “My ex-boyfriend… died.” 

The arm around her shoulder tightened. 

Jiang Chuan looked down at her. Qin Tang tilted her face up, her throat tight, her eyes still red—from his earlier actions. He stroked her eyes gently. Qin Tang said: “I’m not crying, and you don’t need to feel sad either. He’s gone.” 

“Mm, I’m not sad,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

“We all have exes. Lu Sha is still alive, often prancing around in front of me, but I’ve been generous enough not to hold it against her.” Qin Tang nuzzled against him. “You shouldn’t overthink it either.” 

Jiang Chuan took a few deep drags of his cigarette. She didn’t know what he was thinking, and he didn’t know how to explain it to her. 

He smoothed her hair: “From now on, smoke less.” 

Qin Tang: “Mm, I never really got addicted anyway.” 

She had smoked heavily only in the first year. Over the next three years, she smoked less and less each year. 

She reached out to hug him, her chest pressing together. Jiang Chuan reached out and cupped her soft, pale breast. 

Qin Tang squirmed slightly. “It’s late.” 

What time it was, she hadn’t checked. 

She only knew they had done it twice in the bathroom, and each time had lasted a long while. 

Jiang Chuan stubbed out the cigarette, flipped her over, and pinned her down. “You seem to have recovered some energy. Let’s continue.” 

Qin Tang: “...” 

She pinched his arm. “Taking advantage and still acting innocent!” 

Jiang Chuan chuckled. “Don’t you enjoy it too?” 

When it came to intimacy, Qin Tang was quite uninhibited. When she enjoyed it, she would squint her eyes, and when she moaned, her voice was soft like a cat’s. She was utterly delicate, embodying the saying that women are like water. 

Once out of bed, she resumed her usual aloof demeanor. 

Only he had seen her like this. 

Qin Tang didn’t deny it—she liked the feeling of being with him. 

She hugged him tightly, her eyes bright. “Jiang Chuan.” 

Jiang Chuan: “Mm.” 

He propped himself up and looked down at her. 

“Chen Jingsheng—I no longer love him, but he remains in my heart.” 

This was the first time they had mentioned that name between them. 

Jiang Chuan’s eyes were as dark as the sea at night, calm yet profound. He said: “I know.” 

Qin Tang looked at him. “If you think…” 

Jiang Chuan asked: “What do I think?” 

“If you feel you can’t accept it, I can…” 

Can what? Suddenly, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. 

Jiang Chuan gripped her chin and lifted her face. 

He kissed her lips deeply, his eyes growing darker. He nibbled her lips and roughly kneaded her breasts, his knee parting her legs. 

He was fiercer than the previous two times, leaving her no room to breathe. Qin Tang melted under his kisses. “Are you angry?” 

Jiang Chuan didn’t respond. He kissed down to her flat abdomen and then took her in his mouth. She arched her body sharply, panting heavily, her legs trembling open and closed. She clutched his short hair, her feet futilely rubbing against the sheets. 

Deep down, she felt as if Jiang Chuan was punishing her—or venting his frustration—in this way. 

With a sobbing voice, she pleaded: “Please…” 

He rose and thrust into her forcefully. “Please what?” 

Qin Tang was shattered by his relentless pounding, nearly undone by him. What could she beg for? Her mind was blank, leaving only the intense sensations of her body. 

Jiang Chuan gripped her waist, each thrust deeper than the last, his eyes bloodshot. “Tang Tang, be a little more coy.” 

Qin Tang let out a sound, gasping for breath, trembling in his arms. She whimpered and pleaded: “I can’t take it… Go easier…”

The more she begged, the more aroused he became. 

“Ugh...” 

The extreme torment nearly made her pass out. 

The horizon began to lighten. 

The moon disappeared. 

A fiery red sun slowly rose in the east. 

Qin Tang’s sweat-drenched forehead clung to a few strands of black hair. Her eyes were filled with mist, and her consciousness was hazy, as if her soul had been drained. 

Jiang Chuan brushed her hair aside, revealing her smooth forehead. He kissed her cheek and her eyes while gently pinching her soft, delicate earlobe. 

With a sigh, he said: “You already hold my life in your hands—what else is there for me to accept?” 

Qin Tang’s cheeks were flushed, and her moist eyes gazed at him. Her tongue lightly licked her dry lips. 

Jiang Chuan leaned down and kissed her lips, capturing her tongue. 

“It’s dawn,” she said hoarsely. 

“Mm.” Jiang Chuan smiled faintly. “Sleep now.” 

Qin Tang closed her eyes. “You’re terrifying.” 

Jiang Chuan kissed her again and chuckled. “I won’t touch you anymore. Look how scared you are.” 

Qin Tang opened her eyes again; they were still red. “And you?” 

Now that it’s dawn, where will you go? 

Jiang Chuan turned over and lay down, embracing her from behind. “Sleep. Don’t talk.” 

Qin Tang opened her mouth slightly. “I want some water.” 

Jiang Chuan got up to fetch her some water. 

After drinking, Qin Tang was embraced by Jiang Chuan once more. Within a minute, she fell asleep. 

Dawn had broken, but Jiang Chuan felt no urge to sleep. 

After holding her for a while, he got out of bed, threw the used condoms into the trash, put on his pants, and pulled out his cigarette pack. 

After a moment’s thought, he put it back. 

Fully dressed, he bent down, touched her face, and gazed at her for a while. 

Just this brief gaze lasted half an hour. 

Jiang Chuan quietly closed the door and went downstairs. Aunt Gui had already gone out to sell breakfast. 

Everyone else had slept late, except for Lü An, who was still awake. 

Lü An sat in the living room eating a steamed bun. Glancing at Jiang Chuan, he smirked: “Looking quite spirited today, aren’t you?” 

Jiang Chuan sat down beside him: “Not bad.” 

Lü An stared at him for a few seconds and teased: “Last night was quite loud—or should I say, early this morning. The sun hasn’t even risen yet, and you’re already up.” 

Jiang Chuan picked up a steamed bun, paused for a moment, and asked: “Did everyone hear it?” 

Lü An finished a bun in a few bites: “When I got up to use the restroom this morning, that girl was screaming pretty loudly…” 

Jiang Chuan took a bite of the bun and said nothing. Lü An continued: “I know you’ve been holding back for a long time, but still, be careful. I think if Qin Tang stays here a few more days, she’ll lose weight just from all your antics.” 

Jiang Chuan’s expression darkened, and he cursed under his breath: “Damn, you talk too much.” 

Lü An burst out laughing, picked up his food, and went outside to feed Heihu. 

Jiang Chuan had expended a lot of energy last night, so he ate two extra buns for breakfast and drank most of a bottle of water. Grabbing the car keys from the table, he walked out. Lü An glanced at him: “You’re not resting?” 

Jiang Chuan showed no emotion: “No need. I’m going out for a bit.” 

Lü An raised an eyebrow but said nothing, continuing to feed Heihu. 

One by one, everyone woke up and went about their usual routines—eating breakfast, unpacking boxes. 

Some worked, others joked around. 

Around ten o’clock, Xiaobai asked: “Why hasn’t Sister Qin Tang gotten up yet?” 

Aqi replied: “We barbecued late last night. She’s probably exhausted.”