Late at night...
It was eleven.
At last, Fang Wenping's cries stopped coming from the car, and the eerie Small Woods fell quiet all at once, save for the chirping of insects.
Inside the car.
Fang Wenping lay there, gasping for breath.
Dong Xuebin was doing relatively well. After taking a few breaths, he recovered, rolled his aching shoulders, rubbed his waist, then grabbed his clothes and put them on. He found a bottle of mineral water, twisted it open, gulped down half of it, and held it out toward Fang Wenping.
Fang Wenping did not move. Her skin was flushed red all over, and she looked as though she had just taken a shower—soaked from head to toe with sweat.
"Have some water."
"...No."
"What now? Going back to your place?"
"Huff... yeah."
"Let me untie you."
Dong Xuebin set down the bottle of water and reached over to grasp the nylon stockings tied around Fang Wenping's legs. It took him quite a while to undo them. The pantyhose had already been torn during their earlier struggle and were clearly unwearable, so Dong Xuebin tossed them straight onto the back seat. Then he went to undo the belt binding Old Fang's hands. Once it was off, he put it back on his own pants. But when he turned back to look at Fang Wenping, he saw red marks around her wrists. One spot had even been rubbed raw, stained with a little blood, though it was not bleeding. Seeing that, Dong Xuebin felt that he had gone a little too far earlier. Looking again at Old Fang's body and backside, they were covered in red handprints. It was obvious how hard he had been. Even he felt pain on Fang Wenping's behalf, and an embarrassed expression appeared on his