Chapter 52: If I’m Not Worthy of Touching That Beautiful Thing, Neither Are You (Part 1)

Once, merely thinking about it made me feel ashamed. Now, however, I feel a strange sense of gratitude—beautiful sex isn’t something everyone gets to experience, especially not in the first half of my life up until today.

The flirtation came suddenly, and the table fell silent. Jian Zhaowen thought to himself, does this Zheng Zeyan have no limits? Inviting Yu Zhimei to play basketball and then asking Sister He home—it all sounded like he was planning something shady. The pragmatic Xiao Ma immediately pulled out his phone: “You’re Yu Zhimei’s classmate, right? Anyone who comes is a friend. Let me add you to our group chat. What do you do for work? If you ever have any profitable business opportunities, bring me along. I know people everywhere. My name is Xiao Ma, Ma Minmin.”

“So eager?” Jian Zhaowen sneered. “You really just befriend whoever has money.”

“What’s wrong with making friends? I’m poor! You didn’t even tell me you’re starting your own business or that you’re getting rich. You treat me like an idiot. I thought you were just some low-level office worker. Now that you’re starting your own company, are you going to let me buy shares?”

“You can’t afford it.”

“Damn, you think I’m uneducated. Brother Zhaowen, treating me like this means you don’t consider me a friend. I’m so hurt.”

Zheng Zeyan listened silently, his eyes secretly lingering on Sister He, deliberately pretending not to notice, just to keep her intrigued. Ou Jinghe wasn’t in a rush. She moved gracefully between tables like a social butterfly from a hundred years ago, serving a new dish to an elderly couple and bringing red bean cake to a five-year-old girl. Then she returned to Yu Zhimei’s side briefly, her slender ankles peeking out from under her accordion-like skirt, while her kitten heels exposed toes that seemed to tease.

“Zheng Zeyan, next time I’ll bring you that book you mentioned being interested in.”

Lost in thought, Zheng Zeyan took a few seconds to snap back: “What did you say?”

Ou Jinghe went straight to Zheng Zeyan’s apartment, of course without the young people at the dessert shop noticing. Last time at the shop, when Zheng Zeyan mentioned his address, she had memorized it and seized the opportunity to visit him one weekend. Wearing sunglasses that covered half her face, she waited patiently as Zheng Zeyan scrutinized her through the security camera before opening the door. Once inside, Ou Jinghe glanced at the TRX hanging from the ceiling and raised an eyebrow. Turning around, she saw Zheng Zeyan, fresh from working out, his muscles straining against his tight T-shirt, lips slightly parted as he caught his breath. Her first thought was, This is exactly what the filming set of Jin Ping Mei and Ximen Qing would look like—perfect.

“Why did you come straight to my place, Sister Ou?”

“Call me Sister He. Or better yet, call me Jinghe—I don’t like being called ‘Sister.’ Those kids can call me that if they want. We’re neighbors, and I was curious about what these apartments look like, so I came over. You don’t mind, do you?”

“You’re already here. Can I really kick you out?” Zheng Zeyan didn’t offer hospitality or enthusiasm. He simply grabbed a bottle of tequila from the liquor cabinet and poured two shots. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to ask you how to run a dessert shop well. You know, it’s not easy for someone my age to start working hard after so many years of not doing so.”

“I’m in investments. Running a dessert shop has nothing to do with me.”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s always some overlap. And…” Sister He had been eyeing Zheng Zeyan’s back, discreetly swallowing. “If the dessert shop is struggling, you might as well try treating it like a dead horse and see if it revives.”

“I’m expensive. My consulting fees are charged by the hour.”

“I have money.”

Zheng Zeyan smiled, a playful glint in his eyes. “Sister He dresses so well—every piece of clothing is a designer brand.”

Ou Jinghe was satisfied. This was the kind of intimidation she wanted—to live in the most luxurious part of the city, her net worth already overshadowing his.

“But you’re like a vase—beautiful but soulless.”

She almost choked on her anger. Why did every word from this man sting?

“Have you ever seen me before, Sister He?”

“Of course not. Though we live close by, this is downtown, crowded with people. Even if you’d visited my shop, I wouldn’t remember.”

“A woman like me—you’d remember seeing me once. It’s your fault if you don’t.”

Ou Jinghe pretended to be surprised: “You’re quite confident.”

“So confident that you came straight to my house?” Zheng Zeyan pulled Ou Jinghe close. “If you want to sleep with me, just say so.”

When two people are drawn together by chemistry, things can get wild from the first encounter. Zheng Zeyan was strong, and as she fell into the soft mattress and let him tease her, Ou Jinghe quietly timed in her head—how long could this young man last? Not long after, he surrendered. As Ou Jinghe contemplated how to mock him, he picked her up like a mat and carried her to the living room.

…What a terrifying young man.

The TRX hung from the ceiling, its straps adjustable. A lazy chair supported her body as her legs slipped into it. Ancient erotic art may have lacked props, but positions were never lost to time. Ou Jinghe’s mind couldn’t settle. She kept recalling her teenage years—when she was small and lively, leading the cheerleading squad and being lifted by boys in the dance troupe. Looking at her legs now, she thought of Pan Jinlian from Jin Ping Mei , causing chaos on the grape arbor. Once, merely thinking about it made her feel ashamed. Now, however, she felt a strange sense of gratitude—beautiful sex isn’t something everyone gets to experience, especially not in the first half of her life up until today.

Zheng Zeyan was clearly an experienced man. Kneeling behind her, he gently brushed her hair aside, gripping it like reins while using his other hand to bind her wrists, leaving her completely reliant on the sofa for support. She closed her eyes, her mind swirling like crushed rose petals—inhaling their intoxicating fragrance. It was like sneaking spoonfuls of condensed milk, stirring endlessly and savoring each bite. The sweetness overwhelmed her taste buds, locking her lips in delight. The joy of greedily eating spoonfuls of sugar from a hidden jar as a child—that was what this felt like.

Buying clothes and jewelry, dressing luxuriously at this age couldn’t bring her happiness. All she wanted was what she hadn’t yet obtained, what she hadn’t dared to imagine. After all, she was a music box with rusted gears, a shattered glass slipper, a rotten poisoned apple.

“When will we meet again?”

Sister He didn’t even glance at the man before her, only thinking of the unread messages on DayNight: “Contact me on WeChat—I’m very busy.”

Their second meeting happened less than twenty-four hours later. Ou Jinghe had spent two hours doing Pilates at the gym, eaten a salad, drunk lemon juice, sprayed Loewe’s Afternoon Club , and brought a bottle of dry gin before knocking on Zheng Zeyan’s door. He was just stepping down from the TRX, drenched in sweat, unsurprised to see her.

She placed her bag by the door, opened a can of cat food, picked up the cat, and entered the guest room, quietly closing the door behind her. She then leaned on the armrest of the sofa, pretending to admire the view. Zheng Zeyan followed her gaze to the sunset, then looked back at her. Her yoga pants accentuated her curves—an audacious crime in itself. As she bent over, the seam of her buttocks became even more pronounced.

Zheng Zeyan muttered a curse, yanked off her pants, pulled down her collar, stripped her jacket, and carried her into the bedroom.

Desire needed no disguise. Pretending to be reserved would be too deliberate for people like them.

Ou Jinghe had met many men—tall, short, fat, thin, simple, cunning, real faces, fake ones. Just by embracing them, she could tell everything about Zheng Zeyan was earned through effort—his muscles required extreme discipline and training; his chiseled face owed much to Botox. Yet, despite such strict self-control, he managed it all. Licking his back, she heard his low moans, his voice like that of a hungry lion. Lying on the white carpet, her legs felt the elasticity of his chest muscles, her hands gripping his solid arms. His sweat dripped onto her lips, and she happily licked it away. Her body grew warm, but she was ecstatic. Just this afternoon alone was enough to make her happy. Seize the day. The most thrilling part wasn’t the physical act but the fantasy that the man so close to her loved her too. The thought flashed briefly in her mind, and her body overflowed with desire.

When she woke up and saw Zheng Zeyan’s profile, she felt as though they had spent half a lifetime together. She had never held a body like this—strong, muscular curves visible even under a thin blanket. The scent of sweat mingled with his breathing, bathing him in the soft light of the bedside lamp. She could see the fine hairs on his face and the coarse stubble. Unable to resist, she reached out to touch his face. For a moment, only two words filled her mind—long-term.

“Had enough of looking? If you’re done, I can go again.”

“You’re like a stud.”

“If you didn’t see me as one, why would you come here?” He guided her hand under the blanket, half-closing his eyes, expecting her to quickly withdraw it and call him a pervert. But Ou Jinghe simply half-closed her eyes, soothing him like a fierce beast. Shadows danced on the wall, resembling a waveform from a heartbeat monitor. Smooth curves overlapped the ECG lines, and Ou Jinghe pressed herself onto him, gazing at his face like a girl in love. Zheng Zeyan neither smiled nor got angry; he simply pinched her plump buttocks expressionlessly: “I suggest you have simpler intentions. Don’t play love games with me. I let you rest in bed, but I don’t like you.”

“Oh? Do you have someone you like?” Ou Jinghe rolled over and landed beside him. “Isn’t that a bit immoral? Such a low moral baseline.”

“And you’re any better? A married woman.”

A flash of anger surged within Ou Jinghe. “Don’t mention my marriage again.”

“Why shouldn’t I? Should I say your husband is frigid and can’t satisfy you? Is that why you’re out seeking thrills and true love?”

“Shut up.”

He was deliberately provoking her, and unintentionally hitting every mark. Guessing the weaknesses of a married woman was so easy. Zheng Zeyan stood up, naked, lounged on the sofa, filled a glass with the gin she brought, and gulped it down like mouthwash. “If you’re really using this as an opportunity to find true love, don’t use me as a shield.”

PS: This chapter contains a lot of information and metaphors. Take your time to savor it… If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to vote for me QAQ. Daily-updating Little Zhang waits for all of you to chat today!