Chapter 64: The First Night in the Rented Apartment

As Hao Meng thought about Jiang Fan and Wang Wenyu, Jiang Fan, overcome by desire, once again brought trouble upon himself.

Anticipating sharing a bed that night, he left the security team and clung shamelessly to Wang Wenyu, eager to hurry back to their rented room.

Seeing his impatience, Wang Wenyu, afraid she might lose control herself, not only refused to go back early but dragged him instead to the video hall.

In the dim atmosphere of the video hall, Jiang Fan’s wandering hands never ceased. Wang Wenyu had drawn a clear line to protect her final boundary, but aside from that, she indulged him in many things. Yet with people all around, Jiang Fan was hardly satisfied with caresses over clothing.

The video hall was just next to their rented building. When they stepped out, Jiang Fan hugged Wang Wenyu tightly, pleading, “Dear, it’s so late, let’s go home and rest.”

Wang Wenyu shot him a glance, her eyes sweeping over his eager body, and shyly reminded him, “We’re on the street, behave yourself.”

Jiang Fan clamped his legs together, waddling like a duck, feigning innocence and shamelessness. “If you don’t go home, my little brother will have complaints. There’s nothing I can do.”

Catching his deliberate antics, Wang Wenyu swatted him. “Pull your shirt down a bit to cover up. If someone sees you, where will you put your face?”

“This shirt cost thirty yuan and I just bought it. It’s worth more than my face. Besides, if I pull it down, it won’t look good. If we go back early, no one will see anyway.”

“You shameless dog. I really don’t know what to do with you—let’s go.” Thinking of what might happen once they returned, Wang Wenyu covered her face in embarrassment and raced ahead toward their room.

No sooner had they stepped inside than Jiang Fan pounced on Wang Wenyu, pinning her to the bed in his eagerness.

But before he could rejoice, there was a loud thud—he’d struck the corner of the wooden bed frame with his injured arm.

“Ow!” He rolled off, clutching his wounded arm, sweat beading on his forehead from the pain, his excitement instantly deflated.

Wang Wenyu hurried to his side and noticed fresh blood seeping through the bandage. She took his hand, scolding gently, “You’re already mine—can’t you slow down? Let me see if it’s serious.”

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Jiang Fan worried that Wang Wenyu might use his injury as an excuse to refuse intimacy, so he insisted, “It’s nothing serious, I just need a rest.”

But Wang Wenyu watched as the droplets of blood on the bandage grew larger and merged together. She grew anxious. “It’s bleeding again—you call this nothing? I suspect the stitches have torn, that’s why there’s so much blood. Come on, let’s get you checked at the hospital.”

Jiang Fan looked at her pitifully, complaining, “Do we really have to? What rotten luck—I just got back and we haven’t even had a moment together.”

Hearing her mention torn stitches, he realized from the pain that something was wrong. But having just coaxed Wang Wenyu back, he was reluctant to leave their home.

Seeing Jiang Fan’s helpless expression, Wang Wenyu soothed him as if coaxing a child, “Be good—once you’re healed, you can do as you please. Let’s go see; if it’s really torn, a few new stitches and you’ll be fine.”

Jiang Fan stood up, pouting in mock protest, “If I have to get stitched again, this arm of mine will look like a patchwork quilt.”

At the hospital, they were received by a woman doctor in her thirties—not especially pretty, but with a calm, gentle demeanor.

This was the third time stitches had to be put in Jiang Fan’s centipede-like wound. Aunt Li, who’d stitched him previously, had tried to minimize his pain by inserting the needle as close to the wound as possible. The needle itself didn’t cause tearing, but Jiang Fan, wracked by pain, clenched his fist and tensed his muscles, which caused the stitches to tear again.

After examining him, the doctor saw Jiang Fan winking at Wang Wenyu and teased, “In five years of practice, I’ve never seen a wound stitched three times in the same spot. Now it looks like a big centipede with three little ones. To still be smiling with a wound like this—you’re lucky I won’t use anesthesia this time.”

Jiang Fan quickly replied, “No need—I didn’t use it the last two times.”

Wang Wenyu, ever concerned for him, retorted gently, “I don’t know about the first time, but the second time you were unconscious—how do you know if they used anesthesia or not? Don’t think I don’t know you’re just trying to save a few yuan. Listen to me—you’re getting anesthesia.”

Because the stitches had torn, all the threads had come loose and needed to be tightened, and three new wounds required individual stitching.

Unable to watch the procedure, Wang Wenyu turned away and asked the doctor, “Doctor, isn’t Dr. Li Xiangqun on duty today?”

The doctor, deft with the needle, replied kindly, “The emergency room rotates among the departments—today isn’t her shift.”

Noting the doctor’s gentle manner, Jiang Fan commented, “Female doctors really are better. The first time I got stitched, the male doctor was rude and treated my wound like a lab experiment, poking around at random.”

The doctor, observing the scars from the previous stitches, sighed. “With reform and opening up, many have also lost their humanity in the process.”

Back at their rented room, Wang Wenyu saw Jiang Fan getting restless again and teased, “Honestly, even like this you can’t behave. You never give up.”

Jiang Fan shamelessly replied, “It just shows how much I care about you, my dear—don’t you get it?”

Since Jiang Fan had trouble using one arm, Wang Wenyu, ever attentive, helped him take off his T-shirt. “Where did you learn to talk such nonsense?” she chided, rolling her eyes.

Jiang Fan sat on the bed, crossing his legs with a meaningful smile. “It’s not nonsense—it’s the truth. Darling, you’re not going to make me sleep in my pants tonight, are you?”

Wang Wenyu reached for his belt and reminded him, “Don’t use your one hand as an excuse. Even with only one, you haven’t let a single opportunity pass. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re scheming. But tonight, you have to sleep in your shorts.”

Jiang Fan bargained playfully, “As you command. If I listen to you, won’t you reward me a little? A couple needs to compromise, after all.”

Wang Wenyu saw through his tricks but couldn’t help asking, “And what do you propose?”

Jiang Fan stared at her, grinning mischievously. “I’ll do as you say and wear my shorts properly tonight. But since I’m wearing them, you don’t need to wear yours—let me be the only thief let out at night!”

Wang Wenyu took off her jacket and hung it with his clothes on the rack, giving him a sidelong look. “I’ve already indulged you enough in other things. This is not up for discussion.”

Jiang Fan, swaying like a spoiled child, refused to give in. “No way! I can’t agree to everything—you should at least respect a man’s dignity.”

Wang Wenyu removed her inner garment, turning her back to him. “Home isn’t the place for arguments—this is one thing that must go my way. Help me unhook the clasp at the back.”

Her shy and gentle movements, each one, seemed enchanting in Jiang Fan’s eyes. He stared, still unsatisfied, and insisted, “No, I won’t let you wear anything tonight.”

“Are you sure? If you are, then I’ll leave this clasp on all night!” she countered.

For a woman, undoing her own back clasp was second nature, but she deliberately let Jiang Fan help—not just out of girlish coyness, but more to indulge in their shared intimacy.

Jiang Fan undid the clasp for her, pouting as he watched her, foolishly smitten.

Seeing his silly expression, Wang Wenyu’s heart softened. Remembering that he’d been to the hospital three times for the same wound—two times because of her—she felt even more tender toward him.

Wearing cartoon panties adorned with Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck, she nestled into Jiang Fan’s right arm and pointed at his boxers. “I’ll agree to your terms, but you can’t back out. You must keep your shorts on tonight!”

Jiang Fan, thrilled by her words, nodded eagerly and reached for the cartoon figures.

Wang Wenyu, blushing deeply, buried her face in his chest, letting him indulge his surging hormones.

Nearly baring themselves to each other, the two—still innocent and new to the ways of love—did not cross the final boundary. Yet on that secondhand market bed, they clung to each other, pouring out the full vigor of their youth.

It was another sleepless night. As dawn approached, the two lovers, in their youth, longing, affection, and excitement, finally drifted into dream-filled slumber.