Boredom

The sensation was like ocean waves, crashing over her one after another. Each wave rose higher than the last, each one struck harder. Her body trembled, her fingers digging desperately into the cracks between the wall bricks. Even when her nails broke, she did not notice. At last, her lips loosened. Instead of covering her mouth, she bit down on the back of her own hand, using the pain to suppress the sound about to spill from her throat.

But the sound still escaped.

It was soft and faint, like a sigh squeezed from the depths of her throat, carrying a pleasure that even she herself had failed to notice.

She did not know how long it lasted.

She only knew that, in her hazy daze, after an unknown amount of time had passed, the sounds inside the room gradually subsided.

Leng Yulai's melodious cries turned into a long, mournful wail. That sound carried an indescribably complicated emotion—like satisfaction, yet also loss; like gaining something, yet also losing something.

At the same time, Leng Yaozhu reached the peak of that sensation as well.

She felt as though something had violently struck her brain. Her vision went blank, and her awareness completely separated from her body. The bliss was like an electric current, running from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet, making every nerve in her body tense in an instant before relaxing just as quickly.

Her body collapsed limply onto the ground.

She was drenched in fragrant sweat.

A fine layer of sweat beaded across her forehead, neck, and collarbones, glimmering faintly in the dim light. Her breathing became shallow and rapid, like a fish washed ashore. Her eyes were half-open, half-closed, her gaze blurred and unfocused. She could see nothing and hear nothing.

She