After 1 p.m.
A little past one.
The battle in Fang Wenping's bedroom finally came to a stop. The bed frame no longer creaked, and the room was filled with a musky scent.
"Finished?" Fang Wenping panted.
Dong Xuebin grunted, his head covered in sweat as well. "Yeah."
Fang Wenping let out a breath, but she still sat atop Dong Xuebin without moving for quite a while, clearly exhausted to the point that her waist and legs were no longer listening to her. "Let go!"
"Cough, cough, okay." Only then did Dong Xuebin remember and release her hair.
Fang Wenping remained kneeling over him, slowly recovering her strength bit by bit.
Dong Xuebin lay flat beneath her. He had never tried this position with Old Fang before, so they had kept at it like this. Naturally, he had been holding her hair the whole time. In this position, though, he gripped it from the side, pulling her hair behind her while tormenting her. As a result, Fang Wenping had been forcibly held by Dong Xuebin with her head tilted back the entire time. Dong Xuebin's stamina went without saying—he was young—but someone Fang Wenping's age was clearly having a harder time. It really had not been easy on her.
Dong Xuebin recovered after catching his breath for a moment and asked worriedly, "Are you okay?"
Fang Wenping ignored him. After a while, she cautiously moved her thighs and lifted herself, barely managing to climb off Dong Xuebin. Then she collapsed onto the bed and could not be bothered to move another inch. Her wrinkled bathrobe had rolled up so badly that it no longer covered many important parts of her body, but Fang Wenping had no energy to care.
Dong Xuebin quickly went over and held her. Burying his face