February 11, 2024, the second day of the Lunar New Year, Sunday, clear, -2°C to 14°C.
Seven in the morning. The sky had yet to fully brighten.
The heavy blackout curtains were drawn tight.
Every now and then, one or two distant car horns drifted in from outside, muffled and far away beneath the cold air.
The room was quiet.
Only slow, interwoven breathing remained.
A faint scent of champagne, perfume scent, and the warm, sweet fragrance unique to a woman mingled in the air, languidly wrapping around the entire room.
The carpet was a mess.
High heels lay toppled to one side, their thin heels pointing upward. A tear had been ripped into the silvery-white evening gown, which was tangled together with a light gray Knitted Sweater.
Half a scarf had slipped from the edge of the bed, hanging silently down.
Tang Song slowly opened his eyes.
His body still carried a softness that had not yet fully faded.
He turned his head slightly.
On his left, Wen Ruan was still sleeping deeply.
Big Sister's lush, mature body lay defenselessly stretched across the bedding, her breaths long and warm.
One smooth, shapely Honey Thigh rested halfway across him, heavy with its warm body heat.
On his right, Su Yu was curled up tightly.
Her face was buried deep against the pillow, her long lashes hanging quietly. Her thick hair spread across half the bed, and several strands brushed lightly over his collarbone with each breath, making him itch.
Those utterly absurd scenes from last night gradually resurfaced in his mind.
The cold floor-to-ceiling window glass, the wool carpet where roughness and softness intertwined, the bathroom counter shrouded in steam—
The big sister's cooperation and suppression, the female star's struggles and tears.
But after the female star had completely collapsed,