Those two inconspicuous silver rings were carefully set aside by Chu Susu and placed into a velvet pouch to ensure they wouldn’t fall under the bed.
The two followed online diagrams and videos to wash their hands thoroughly, especially their fingers, scrubbing them several times with soap to ensure not a speck of dirt remained.
In fact, with finger cots on, they didn’t need to wash so meticulously, but both did so without a word, fidgeting and rubbing their fingertips together awkwardly, as if it were a way to relieve the tension.
Chu Susu usually had strong nerves, but at that moment, she nervously exhaled and asked, “Um… should I go first?”
From the videos, they took turns, but one always took the lead, so she subconsciously decided for them.
The reason was simple: the girl in front of her was quiet and reticent by nature. Chu Susu was used to making all the decisions in their daily life, and the girl would always nod obediently in acceptance.
Moreover, she had a preconceived stereotype based on their appearances—clearly, Chu Susu was the dominant one.
So for this matter, it was probably best if she took charge.
But unexpectedly, Chu Susu saw the girl shake her head and say softly, “Let me do it.”
“Why?” she asked, puzzled at why the usually soft-spoken girl would think that way.
The girl blinked and whispered, “Shh.”
She brushed the hair covering her face behind her ear, her clear features suddenly taking on a hint of alluring charm, making Chu Susu momentarily think this blank sheet of paper had been outlined in seductive hues—yet upon closer look, there was no color at all.
“Let me,” the girl said quickly, lowering her head to hide that faint trace of allure, pleading gently, “Okay?”
She had always been compliant and obedient, and this was the first time she’d asked for something in such a tone, leaving Chu Susu momentarily stunned. Before she knew it, they had tumbled into a tangle.
Autumn rain seeped through the gaps in the window frame—likely because the window wasn’t shut tight. Chu Susu lay on her back as fine rain strands drizzled onto her face, cool and ticklish.
But the place JJWXC doesn’t allow describing was hot.
Another place JJWXC doesn’t allow describing was also hot. Her cheeks, her hair tips, were like a roaring blaze, setting Chu Susu’s heart ablaze, unquenched by the autumn rain.
The two became tangled in ways JJWXC doesn’t allow describing, but that didn’t stop the girl from kissing her sensitive spots, from one forbidden area to another, to yet more forbidden areas.
Chu Susu let out a soft moan that JJWXC doesn’t allow.
Her most intimate spot was played like a musical instrument, and after confirming it was ready, the girl tirelessly did what JJWXC doesn’t allow. It hadn’t even fully happened yet, but she was already overwhelmed.
Another forbidden area was also lavished with kisses at some point; the finger cots she’d bought finally came in handy. After a bout of tender preparation, the girl’s fingers slowly did what JJWXC doesn’t allow, with kisses to help, smooth and unobstructed despite the newness.
The unfamiliar sensation made Chu Susu bite her lips helplessly, her cheeks flushing with a color JJWXC doesn’t allow, her eyes rippling with unspoken desire, wild abandon blooming.
“It’s so strange…” she pleaded breathlessly with the girl, “(dialogue JJWXC doesn’t allow).”
But how could she listen to that?
Chu Susu’s soul was nearly undone by the intensity. She couldn’t fathom how this gentle girl could be so… insatiable. In just minutes, she was on the brink.
Worse, the girl’s other hand was doing more forbidden things, teasing her relentlessly—it was too much for someone as inexperienced as her.
“Han! Xuan!” Chu Susu gritted out the girl’s full name, her voice laced with a sob.
Recalling this point, she froze.
Han Xuan? How could her ex from university be Han Xuan? They’d only known each other a few months.
But as she uttered the name, the dream scene sharpened, and the girl’s face overhead came into crystal focus.
It was Han Xuan’s face—pure and otherworldly, with ink-black hair and snow-white skin.
…No way. She’d actually substituted Han Xuan into this dream?
How could that be?
Yet calling her name changed nothing. No matter how many times Chu Susu said “Han Xuan” or in what tone, she soon reached peaks of pleasure JJWXC doesn’t allow.
As she neared those peaks, she couldn’t help babbling incoherently, clutching the girl’s arms tighter, as if terrified.
“Han… Xuan…”
The girl’s lips paused before delivering more kisses, along with a flood of warmth that soaked her entire hand.
She pecked Chu Susu’s cheek and said with a beaming smile, “Susu, you say my name so nicely.”
On the neighborhood lawn bench, Chu Susu shot to her feet.
Pipi had just caught the frisbee she threw and jolted at her owner’s bewildered expression, hurrying back on its stubby legs.
“Good girl.”
Chu Susu steadied her breathing and threw the frisbee again, not wanting to affect the dog with her mood.
How absurd! How could she have such a dream—and with Han Xuan as the other lead?
She’d even cast her as her university girlfriend, and she herself had…
Impossible. Chu Susu remembered clearly: she did date a girlfriend in college, but never let the other be the top—she was certain of that.
Was it because “Hunter” scared her yesterday, leading to this unrealistic dream?
She touched her cheek suspiciously, feeling it burn— the spot Han Xuan had kissed repeatedly in the dream.
Sexual attraction to Han Xuan was normal, but why so completely reversed?
Chu Susu sat back down, trying to recall the very end. She felt something happened afterward.
…
It was still that rainy autumn night. She was cradled in Han Xuan’s arms, drifting toward sleep from exhaustion.
“Aren’t you usually full of stamina?” Han Xuan teased with a laugh. “If you’re sleepy, just sleep.”
“No… can’t.” Chu Susu mumbled drowsily. “I haven’t even…”
“It’s fine. Next time.”
Chu Susu was too spent to speak, but she heard Han Xuan and placed her hand on hers in response.
Soon, the rain outside tapered off. In the utter silence, Han Xuan suddenly said, “Will you forget me someday?”
Her tone was casual, not serious.
Chu Susu was nearly asleep, mustering strength to shake her head.
“Really?” Han Xuan asked. “What if you do?”
“Won’t…”
She murmured to herself: “You will someday. You’ll look at me like a stranger, maybe even hit on me—after all, I seem to be your type.”
What type? Chu Susu instinctively wanted to retort.
It’s because I like you that I stopped liking other types.
And how could I forget you?
But she couldn’t voice it.
As consciousness faded into darkness, she vaguely heard a whisper at her ear: “If you remember later, can you not blame me?”
But Chu Susu heard nothing.
Han Xuan gazed at the sleeping face, then smiled bitterly after a moment.
“But you’ll probably blame me anyway.”
She gently smoothed Chu Susu’s messy hair to prevent it tangling while she slept.
“No matter how much I do, we’re destined to be different.”
“It’s precisely because I chose you that I have to make you forget me.”
After rambling these words aimlessly, a white glow gathered at Han Xuan’s fingertip, slowly seeping into Chu Susu’s furrowed brow.
In an instant, her expression relaxed, sleeping soundly.
Han Xuan stared at the serene face, murmuring like an incantation:
“May my girl never frown.”
This bizarre dream left Chu Susu lost in thought for a while, pondering how she’d conjured such an outlandish plot.
Then Chu Qingyang’s call snapped her out of it.
The man impersonating Fang Chen had finished his statement.
His name was Luo Yiyi, 27 years old, an ordinary, honest state-owned enterprise employee with no prior record. No one had expected him to do something like this.
Even the investigators were baffled.
The company had great benefits and pay; Luo Yiyi wasn’t short on cash to buy a phone, and he wasn’t lacking opportunities to meet girls through blind dates.
He had money, chances to date—why do this?
Must be some special fetish. Plenty of people like that.
With ironclad evidence—he stole Fang Chen’s phone and saw photos of Chu Susu in his WeChat Moments, getting wicked ideas—there was no escape.
However, strangely enough, Luo Yiyi refused to admit guilt. He insisted that he was innocent, his tone utterly sincere.
When she heard this, Chu Susu surprisingly felt that he was telling the truth.
She always had a nagging feeling that this man wasn’t the real Hunter.
The Hunter possessed abilities beyond ordinary people—how could he have been caught so easily? If that were the case, simply calling the police would have rounded them all up in one fell swoop.
With that in mind, Luo Yiyi seemed more like an unlucky scapegoat.
He was detained for a long time. Chu Susu made a note of it, planning to visit him in a few days for a chat—maybe she could learn some new information.
The reason she wasn’t going right now was obvious: Luo Yiyi had just been arrested, so his emotions were surely still running high. It was better to wait until he calmed down.
By her calculations, it was almost time for Chu Susu to return to work anyway.
The company had given her three months off, but she naturally couldn’t afford to rest the full three months, or she’d miss out on the new project.
During the Fucheng heiress’s birthday banquet last time, Chu Susu had seized the chance to pitch her proposal to the client’s top brass, and it was turning out to be just the right moment to put it to use.
On her first day back at work, she ran into Rebecca in the elevator.
