TIL - 22

Wen Huo was dancing enthusiastically when an eighteen or nineteen-year-old boy put his hand on her waist and pulled her into his arms, as if declaring ownership: “This girl, I want her.”

Wen Huo turned her head to face him. He was quite handsome, and she had already had a couple of drinks, feeling a bit buzzed, so she didn’t refuse.

The boy liked the way she turned her head, the way her eyes flicked over to him. He suddenly felt a bit thirsty.

Alcohol, EDM, lights, men, women, hot bodies, unique souls, and the same old carnal desires, all mixed together, fermenting, evaporating, that’s how the night became captivating.

He asked Wen Huo, “What’s your name?”

“Does it matter?”

His hand slowly moved upwards, about to touch Wen Huo’s chest: “Are you alone?”

Wen Huo raised her hand and pointed in Cheng Cuo’s direction. He looked over, and Cheng Cuo and Tang Jun’en tacitly raised their glasses to him. He suddenly recoiled. In that environment, his expression couldn’t be seen, but it must have been priceless.

So, this girl had company. He disappeared into the crowd.

Wen Huo took a break, returned to the booth, poured some wine, and only then saw Tang Jun’en. Half a mouthful of wine got stuck in her mouth for a while.

Tang Jun’en smiled, “So surprised to see me?”

Wen Huo wasn’t surprised; she was wondering where Chen Cheng’s car was now.

Tang Jun’en was here, which meant Chen Cheng definitely knew she was out clubbing. Just a few days ago, she had told him she hadn’t gone clubbing anymore. This slap in the face would probably make him hang her on the U-shaped wall ropes for aerial yoga and pound her for three days...

He had done it before. Sex while suspended was the most taxing on the waist, and Wen Huo wasn’t keen on reliving it.

Cheng Cuo saw that Tang Jun’en and Wen Huo knew each other and was also dumbfounded. He anxiously said, “You... told my cousin?”

Tang Jun’en leisurely sipped his wine: “No. I just sent a video.”

Cheng Cuo scrambled, dragging Wen Huo out. His recent enthusiasm for “getting started” had completely cooled.

Tang Jun’en called out to him, “What about this booth?”

Cheng Cuo didn’t even reply.

Seeing that he couldn’t be bothered, Tang Jun’en told the bartender to bring over the entire cart of liquor from his reserved room. He and a few friends took over the booth.

________________________________________

After Chen Cheng finished his discussions with the organizer and the head of the Discipline Inspection Group, he had a massage and soaked in the hot springs. As soon as he started soaking, the news of Wen Huo clubbing arrived, and he couldn’t stay still. He bid farewell to the two and left in a hurry.

He thought he didn’t have a possessive desire over Wen Huo; it was just that as his mistress, she should understand the rules.

It wasn’t that he forbade her from clubbing, but she had explicitly said she wouldn’t go anymore. What was this? This was a lie. Although she lied all the time, if she dared to tell such an obvious lie, she had to bear the consequences.

This time, Chen Cheng didn’t want to punish her. He just wanted to reason with her, to make her understand that she was wrong.

Unexpectedly, he found nothing. That little “dog” had heard he was coming and had already vanished.

Tang Jun’en, seeing his unpleasant expression, chuckled: “Teacher Chen’s prized blade has been gathering dust for many years; it’s a bit dull now, being controlled by a young girl in her twenties.”

Chen Cheng unbuttoned a button on his suit jacket: “Who said I came looking for her?”

Tang Jun’en nodded: “Hmm, you came looking for me.”

Chen Cheng asked him: “Was she alone?”

“Didn’t you come looking for me? Why are you asking about her? She’s just a young girl, just wiggling her butt, swaying her shoulders, nothing else. No one hugged her waist, and no one whispered in her ear.”

Chen Cheng looked at him, his expression complex.

Tang Jun’en loved seeing his conflicted expression: “She’s young, and all young people are like that. Weren’t you wilder when you were young? Arms and legs covered in tattoos; do you really think washing them off makes you a pure young man again?”

“I’m a man.”

Tang Jun’en pointed at him: “Look, look. The double standards! What’s wrong with being a man or a woman? In my opinion, you’ve taken a liking to her, but you’re too stubborn to admit it. Be more generous, don’t be so petty.”

“It’s precisely because I’ve ‘played’ that I know what those people are thinking. She has nothing to do with me, so she can do whatever she wants. But you ask her, what’s her relationship with me? What right does she have?”

Chen Cheng’s words were spoken in a steady tone, yet one could clearly hear the surging tide beneath them.

Tang Jun’en suddenly realized that his direction of teasing might be wrong. Chen Cheng was just such a meticulous person, and it had nothing to do with whether the other party was Wen Huo. Just as he wouldn’t let Lu Xingchuan off for what he did with Han Bailu.

He took the word ‘possession’ very seriously. His things, if lost or thrown away, were fine if he wanted them to be. But if he didn’t want them to be, who dared to touch them?

Wen Huo was this thing that belonged to him.

Tang Jun’en stopped provoking him and handed him Wen Huo’s clothes that she had left behind: “She left twenty minutes ago.”

Chen Cheng took them and left.

Passing by the bar, a woman hooked his arm: “Want a drink?”

Chen Cheng pulled his arm back, not intending to pay her any mind.

The woman had had a bit to drink, feeling a bit light-headed, and enjoyed the thrill of conquest. She extended her leg to block Chen Cheng’s path: “I’ll buy you a drink, give me some face.”

Chen Cheng wasn’t wearing his glasses. He actually didn’t wear them often, but in this situation, it would have been better if he had. That way, the disgust radiating from his eyes wouldn’t be so stark, and they could both maintain a bit of decorum.

The woman was drunk, disoriented, and she really liked his eyes. She just wanted to drink with him and add him on WeChat: “Just one drink?”

Chen Cheng said, “I’m not interested in things that come too easily.”

The woman froze, her face gradually turning unsightly.

Chen Cheng added, “I suggest you put what’s in your nose in your head instead. You don’t seem very smart.”

He was so handsome, and so annoying. The woman instantly sobered up, her face flushing crimson.

Only those closest to them could hear their conversation, but the looks from those few people were enough to make the woman wish she could disappear.

________________________________________

Wen Huo didn’t return to school. Chen Cheng knew she went clubbing, and she ran away, which was asking for trouble. She wasn’t an obedient type, but she was smart. She knew what she was there for, so she went to Chen Cheng’s apartment.

She knew the password but didn’t go in. She just stood at the door and sent Chen Cheng her location, without a single explanation.

Chen Cheng arrived in the middle of the night. He opened the door, and she still didn’t move.

Chen Cheng didn’t let her in either; he just closed the door directly.

Wen Huo stood outside the door, looking down at her two arms. She was very thin, looking as if she never got enough to eat. Every time she was with Chen Cheng, when he lifted her with one hand, her frailty would be magnified a hundredfold.

She had square shoulders, which looked best in a camisole. She wasn’t conservative either; she was usually well-behaved when studying, but if she was going clubbing, she couldn’t exactly wear a down jacket. She saw Chen Cheng take her clothes inside but wouldn’t let her in, and suddenly felt deflated.

If Chen Cheng were her boyfriend, she would have turned on him long ago. It was precisely because he wasn’t that she couldn’t turn on him; she had to play along.

She stood outside the door for another ten minutes, then sent Chen Cheng a WeChat message: “Teacher Chen, I was wrong.”

Chen Cheng had finished his shower and replied: “Why are you playing innocent with me? Don’t you know the door password?”

Wen Huo saw that he was talking to her, which meant she could talk: “I’m scared.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Afraid you’d be angry.”

“I’m not angry. You’re not worth my anger.”

“Oh.”

Chen Cheng got angry at her “oh.” He threw his phone aside and went to open the door for her: “Are you standing here guarding the door for me?!”

Wen Huo looked up at him. This was the person who had just told her he wasn’t angry and that she wasn’t worth his anger.

“Get in!”

Wen Huo entered, fiddling with her fingers, standing in the entryway.

Chen Cheng walked to the living room, then turned to look at her: “Didn’t you say you’d never go again? Were you lying to me the whole time?”

Wen Huo explained: “When I told you last time, I really hadn’t gone again.”

Chen Cheng found her quite adept at sophistry: “So that was a heads-up for next time? Is that right?”

“I also didn’t say I was going back to school. I had dinner with friends, and after that, we decided to relax a bit, that’s all. I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t let me go, and you would definitely get angry if I told you.”

Chen Cheng understood: “You knew I wouldn’t let you go, but you went anyway. You’re quite bold.”

Wen Huo was originally going to humbly admit her mistake, but as she spoke, she felt it shouldn’t be this way, and her attitude hardened: “Why can’t I go? Does being a mistress restrict personal freedom?”

Chen Cheng stopped talking. He wanted to see what kind of words Wen Huo would utter.

“Have I ever asked you where you go? Oh, you go to all those high-class places? All upper-crust people, suits and ties, looking dignified, talking about business, politics—all very reliable. And where I go is all mixed-up, more shit than shoes, right?”

Wen Huo smiled faintly: “Teacher Chen, we both came from the same compound, but even in the compound, there are several tall buildings. Every door holds a world, and the gap between you and me is never just a few doors away.”

She picked up her jacket from the sofa and put it on: “It was foolish of me to seduce you. If you think I’m disobedient, then forget it.”

Chen Cheng heard her words, her tone. If he weren’t the person involved, he might have thought he was wrong.

Wen Huo remembered Chen Cheng’s earlier remark and felt it was very fitting here: “You’re right, I’m not worthy.”

She turned and walked out. For some inexplicable reason, she wasn’t there to tell him the truth. Their relationship wasn’t one for telling the truth, but she just couldn’t control herself. She suddenly didn’t want to act anymore. Her acting wasn’t good anyway, and she might have given herself away long ago.

Negative emotions washed over her. Wen Huo felt terrible, Chen Cheng felt terrible, and working with Han Bailu felt terrible.

Chen Cheng watched Wen Huo walk towards the door. He could have just watched her walk out. At thirty-two, he no longer afforded himself time for sentimentality. Wen Huo’s emotional tantrum seemed to him like a little girl refusing to walk by the roadside because she didn’t get candy. It was uninteresting, and he wasn’t moved. He could discard her indistinguishable genuine and feigned grievances from his mind like a bag of trash.

But he didn’t.

He went over and held her hand that was on the doorknob.

Chen Cheng’s fingers were long, slender, and white. He slightly curved them, and their bony structure stood out, intensely captivating Wen Huo’s attention.

Wen Huo suddenly became sober. She faced her own identity, and that brief anomaly was quickly integrated into her acting—a tear fell from her eye onto Chen Cheng’s hand.

Both true and false.

Chen Cheng didn’t believe it, but he lowered his voice: “I’m not forbidding you from going; I’m forbidding you from going alone. Like I said, you can drink when I’m there. You can relax if you want, but it has to be somewhere I can see you.”

Wen Huo feigned grievance: “Why?”

Chen Cheng pulled her to the sofa, sat down, while he stood in front of the table and said, “Because every door is a world, and not every face hides a human soul.”

He threw her own words back at her.

Wen Huo understood. He did despise the people in that place, but he had no intention of belittling her act of clubbing; it was her own narrow-mindedness.

Chen Cheng taught Wen Huo: “No one will ever be from the same world as anyone else. It has nothing to do with identity, but with thought. You emphasize the difference in identity because you care, but I don’t care, so it won’t affect me at all. Even if it’s venting, don’t vent without value. Like your previous grievances, they didn’t affect me at all, so they were worthless. Do too many worthless things, and your worth will drop.”

Wen Huo looked at him.

Chen Cheng told her: “The older you get, the more you’ll find it harder to speak freely. Your worth is the indicator and scope of your freedom to speak your mind. If your worth is high, you can speak more. If your worth isn’t enough, no one will listen to you.”

He was so realistic; he equated everything with value. Yet Wen Huo couldn’t refute him, because he was right.

Chen Cheng tested her learning progress: “Understood?”

Wen Huo thought for a moment and said, “It wasn’t worthless.”

Only five words, but Chen Cheng understood her meaning as soon as she finished speaking.

Wen Huo added, “You didn’t scold me, so my grievance wasn’t worthless.”

Chen Cheng found her very opportunistic, but it was precisely because she was intelligent that this intelligence gave her a sense of propriety. That sense of propriety made him comfortable, which is why he was willing to make time for her seduction, rather than for anyone else.

Wen Huo stood up, walked over, and took his hand: “Teacher Chen, then I’ll only go if you take me from now on, okay? Okay?”

How talented she was, to be able to act to this extent.

She took another step or two closer to Chen Cheng, reaching for his chest, touching the bruise that resembled a lash mark. She didn’t ask, but gently caressed it. Her hand was very soft, just like her breasts. Chen Cheng couldn’t refuse.

For someone like Chen Cheng, truly nothing mattered more than comfort. He was willing to compromise with anything and anyone that made him feel comfortable.

Wen Huo suddenly licked his chest, then looked up at him. There were hooks in her eyes, and they just hooked out Chen Cheng’s adrenaline.

He put his hand on her butt, stroking in circles: “Did anyone ask for your WeChat?” Wen Huo nodded: “I’m beautiful, of course they would.”

Chen Cheng’s eyes seemed to be smiling: “What’s beautiful about you?”

“Then why does Teacher Chen like me?”

“Did I say I liked you?”

Wen Huo buried herself in his arms, kicked off her shoes, and stepped on his feet: “You just like me.”

Chen Cheng said, “Too confident is just being arrogant.”

Wen Huo didn’t care: “Then if you don’t like me, don’t touch me today. I won’t do anything for you. Go take care of yourself.”

Chen Cheng wrapped his arm around her waist: “You’re in my hands now, and you’re negotiating with me?”

“But if you don’t even like me, why are you still messing with me? Do men only think with that thing?” She insisted that Chen Cheng say he liked her. As long as Chen Cheng liked her, she could make demands of him, Chen Cheng would fall into her trap, and she could complete her task.

Chen Cheng, however, just wouldn’t say it: “Don’t you like me messing with you?”

Wen Huo tilted her head, not looking at him, “I don’t like it at all.”

Chen Cheng pulled down the hair tie binding her hair, used it to bind her hands, then lifted her onto his shoulder, carried her upstairs, pressed her against the edge of the bathtub, held her neck, and pinched her jawbone: “Spread your legs.”

Wen Huo slowly spread her legs, her skirt sliding up to her thighs, revealing white underwear.

Chen Cheng touched her with his middle finger: “Do you want it?”

Wen Huo smiled and shook her head.

Chen Cheng inserted his finger: “You’re wet.”

Wen Huo extended her foot to his crotch: “You’re hard.”

Chen Cheng turned and took out a pair of handcuffs from the storage cabinet. He cuffed her feet, lifted both her legs, and hung them on a clothes hook, making her head point downwards. But he supported her head, placing two pillows beneath her.

The last time Chen Cheng cuffed her, he made her wrists red. To make herself seem more pitiful, she cut herself on that red mark. That day at dinner, she didn’t move, just looked at the meat on the plate, and in the end, Chen Cheng fed her that meal.

There was no other way; if he didn’t feed her, she wouldn’t eat. If she didn’t eat, she wouldn’t have strength. And if she didn’t have strength, how could she ride on him and let him penetrate deep inside her?

This time, Chen Cheng wrapped the handcuffs with a silk scarf.

He stepped back two paces, looking at Wen Huo hanging upside down in the bathtub. Her twin ponytails were held by only one tie, her hands were bound by the elastic, her feet were cuffed, and an Hermès silk scarf floated between her legs, its abstract colors and patterns contrasting with her slender, fair legs...

This scene was beautiful.

He took out a camera, snapped a photo of the scene. When the photo developed, he shook it out and stuck it onto the glass wall.

Wen Huo cooperated with him, shifting her waist to make her pose more alluring, more provocative, more irresistible.

She didn’t deeply understand Chen Cheng as a person, but she had a precise grasp of his preferences in sex. She knew that as soon as she arched her backside, his “horse eye” would begin to twitch, wanting to possess her.

Sure enough, Chen Cheng put down the camera, walked over to Wen Huo, knelt down, and kissed her vulva through her underwear. He showered her with tiny kisses, then bites, drawing out her juices and sucking them into his mouth.

Wen Huo cried out, her labia being licked by his soft, cool, wet tongue. Waves of pleasure controlled the rhythm of her vaginal contractions.

She was truly wrong.

She should have enjoyed it from the beginning. Chen Cheng was amazing. She had missed so much pleasure by treating him as a task.

Chen Cheng’s lips were stained with her fluids. He looked up at her.

He had thin lips, a superior lip shape. Many women, in a state of tipsiness, couldn’t resist such lips opening and closing before them; it would literally be the death of them.

Wen Huo wanted to kiss him, sticking out her tongue.

Chen Cheng asked knowingly: “Do you want it?”

Wen Huo wanted it!

Chen Cheng saw her eagerness, but he himself was in no hurry: “Beg me.”

Wen Huo was restrained, her hands and feet bound, unable to move. She could only use her mouth: “Teacher Chen, kiss me.”

Chen Cheng didn’t kiss her: “I don’t really feel like kissing.”

Wen Huo squirmed: “Teacher Chen, Huohuo wants it.”

Chen Cheng cupped his chin and looked at her: “Wants what?”

“Wants you.”

“Wants what part of me?”

“All of you.”

“Then will you still go clubbing in the future?”

“No more clubbing.”

“Will you be obedient?”

“Yes.”

“Are you a little puppy?”

“Yes, I’m a little puppy.”

...

She was so adorable. Chen Cheng unzipped his pants, and his cock, by its own inertia and memory, plunged into her tender pussy. Then he leaned down and kissed her, allowing her to finally taste his lips as she wished.

Wen Huo’s mouth was full of Chen Cheng’s lips and tongue, while beneath her, his fierce thrusts brought wave after wave of pleasure... It was so delightful to be Chen Cheng’s mistress.

Chen Cheng was amazing, so amazing. He was going to kill her, he made her feel so good, so good she wanted to bite him. He smelled so good, she loved him so much, she wanted to eat him bite by bite...

The old Wen Huo used neither her body nor her heart, but the current Wen Huo was starting to use her body.

This old man was quite intoxicating, damn it.