Overly Intense [Criminal Investigation] 62

Chapter 62: Seizing Every Opportunity

Shen Yiyi had dissected at least seventy or eighty bodies a year since she had come to Shanghai. Besides various funeral homes, she would also take her deputy on high-speed trains and planes to other provinces to dissect bodies. She had often seen naked people in a state of near decomposition, rotting to the point of losing their shape, but she had never thought that she would one day be dissected by someone else.

She looked completely defenseless. Just leaning back and cooperating had taken up all her thoughts. The oxygen was being chased and blocked by Qin Luo’s kisses, and the numbness in her ears and neck had made her lose her hearing.

She thought that this might be the source of the impulse for a crime of passion—a person uncontrollably falls into a vat of desire, and then their rational thinking automatically disintegrates.

It was the weekend. The streets had just woken up at nine in the morning. The sound of car horns and shouting came from downstairs.

Shen Yiyi could easily distinguish which unit and which room the old lady with the hoarse voice lived in. This kind of transparent vision, the hustle and bustle of the city transmitted through the light, was like lying on the street and enjoying the pleasure with the neighbors.

“Aren’t you sleepy?”

Shen Yiyi was still trying to struggle. She dodged the warmth on the side of her neck and said in a panic, “Aren’t we going to sleep?”

This kind of light had no cover, and they could see each other’s faces clearly when they were moved.

Shen Yiyi could feel the ring on her body, like a cold scalpel wandering along her ribs, and then finding the positioning point in front of her chest. Then the tip of the knife pierced her skin. Besides trembling, she could do nothing else.

Qin Luo’s other hand moved to the thin rope at her waist.

She pinched one end and gently pulled it. The two of them instantly became the wildest children on the street.

“I’ve missed you so much these past few years.”

In the midst of her passion, Qin Luo looked at her with a timid gaze and said some shy nonsense. Then she used her clumsy technique, not very skillfully, to perform this dissection surgery.

As a writer, Qin Luo was not keen on writing this kind of popular drama.

The review requirements for serious literature were more lenient than for online literature. The big shots in the literary world always liked to use sexual metaphors, such as describing breaking free, or reacting to the vitality of life, or at worst, linking it to social turmoil. Of course, this was the nature of carnivores. Everyone loved to see it, and everyone loved to study it.

Male writers loved to write about women being sexy, gentle, with a head of black hair flowing down their backs to the ground. Love and desire were transformed into a rough autumn wind, blowing into the frozen earth, and trampled underfoot. They brazenly called it absurdity, the most sincere absurdity between human beings.

Of course, they also loved to write about sexual dilemmas.

It was as if something had imprisoned their skin, making the women in their writing unable to stand up straight, always being the one who was being watched. They used the most obscure words to write the most “lonely” love, as if if they couldn’t get a woman like their mother as a wife, they would get a strange malaria and die in despair.

Sex is the loneliest experience in the human life journey.

It will make two hearts feel a fierce collision, and use the behavior of merging with each other to deceive the brain—love is a bomb with its fuse removed.

Bang bang bang bang.

Those who are shot in a passionate love are unable to draw their guns—who has ever seen someone cheat at the peak of their soul’s love?

But society has packaged sex with a bunch of contracts, binding sex and civilization, and turning it into the best way to measure a woman. This is a vortex that even an anti-fraud app can’t escape from, so Qin Luo also had to write. She had to write more exaggeratedly to break this chain.

When Liu Jia had read Qin Luo’s first draft, she had said:

“A writer in her twenties who has not experienced a love that causes a cranial fever is not worthy of writing about love. How can you feed people this kind of three-no product without it passing inspection?”

Now, at thirty-five, Qin Luo still found it difficult to refute.

Of course, she also wanted to be head over heels in love, to go crazy for love, to experience a love that was as deep as the sea and as high as the mountains. But she just felt that everyone was average. She was unwilling to bend over for someone whose price was not equal.

So in these past few years, to solve her physiological needs, she had basically relied on self-sufficiency.

There was nothing to be ashamed of.

On the matter of purchasing self-sufficiency products, Logos had even invited many reviewers to the podcast to talk about product performance and safety, and to popularize their frequency of use and techniques.

In the river view room where Shen Yiyi had lain, if you just opened the bedside table, you would find a neatly arranged collection of self-sufficiency products.

This was the pleasure of a single, thirty-something writer’s lonely nights.

Or maybe it wasn’t pleasure, but filling herself up.

Solving it yourself was much cleaner and safer than relying on others. And in the process of self-sufficiency, Qin Luo could freely fill the pages of her imagination and write many sexy stories.

The protagonist of the story that accompanied the sexy stories had a blurry back and no name. Qin Luo would not allow Shen Yiyi’s name to appear, and she would certainly not allow them to be as cold to her as Shen Yiyi had been.

But it was undeniable that these phantoms all used Shen Yiyi’s outline.

In her imagination, Qin Luo could touch her fluctuating outline, smell that light bubble scent, and through the autumn of their separation, imagine hearing the other’s uncontrollable passion, the suppressed surging sound.

And at this moment, sixteen years later, Qin Luo finally did not have to rely on self-sufficiency to pick up this sound.

Hearing is believing.

It was the sound of an effervescent tablet being thrown into a pool of water. The small and chaotic swarm of butterflies hidden in the folds emerged and flapped their wings. They flew with the chaotic clouds, swam in the sea of clouds with the dusk, and then disappeared.

Qin Luo couldn’t help but caress her throat again, her other clean hand on the side of her neck, her fingertips tightly restraining, leaving only a gap for a person to breathe.

The artery was pulsating, and the raised neck showed a tense network of veins. Besides that, there was also an uncontrollable wave.

This was a change of excitement.

Qin Luo didn’t dare to ask Shen Yiyi how she felt, or if she needed to adjust her position or technique. She was afraid that if she asked, it would interrupt this exciting event.

She could only judge by her breathing.

Qin Luo wanted to give everything to Shen Yiyi. As long as she liked it, she could share her property, give her stocks, or buy her a sports car, and prepare three meals a day for her. She wished she could pass on everything she owned.

As long as Shen Yiyi was willing to inherit her happiness, then she would not be lonely.

Qin Luo looked at her face, hoping for a positive answer.

But Shen Yiyi was too tired. This kind of thing that required a high degree of concentration, she had done it twice in one day.

The first time: she had driven on the highway for four hours.
The second time: she had developed a new skill for her body.

Shen Yiyi couldn’t quite remember where she was. The surroundings were spinning, and her nerves were wandering with Qin Luo’s ring. Everywhere she went, she was paralyzed. Even her voice was a little hoarse.

What was wrong?
What was she doing?
Why was she suddenly so interested in humans, in sex?

But the more she thought about these questions in a daze, the more Qin Luo wanted to pull her back, forcing her attention to surrender. To cover up her loss of control, Shen Yiyi had to hold Qin Luo’s face in return, to touch the side of her face, to confirm that it was real.

Qin Luo.

The dusk had completely fallen from the sea of clouds. Her night had arrived at noon.

She had never been so sleepy, like the princess in a fairy tale who had eaten a poison apple and had slept for a thousand years. Her breathing became weak, and on the way up, her body trembled unsteadily. “Qin Luo, I’m so tired.”

It was even more tiring than a big cry.

Shen Yiyi gently tugged at Qin Luo’s collar and pulled her closer. “I want to sleep.”

Sleepy…

Qin Luo thought to herself that she hadn’t even started to serve her properly, and the other had already lost all her fighting power, trembling and curled up in a ball, pitifully begging her to let go.

Forget it. Then let’s go to sleep.

Qin Luo touched her face, then withdrew her other hand, helped Shen Yiyi with her pajama pants, and tied the two thin strings at her waist.

People are always reluctant to part with a beautiful dream.

Qin Luo lay on her side next to Shen Yiyi, even pressing against the other’s body. Her fingertips gently stroked the marks on the side of her neck and said in the tone of the past, “Do you want me to hold you?”

Shen Yiyi, who had just finished watching a magnificent fireworks display, now had a choking smoke in her head. She was so tired she was speechless. She used all her strength to lift her head from the pillow.

Qin Luo’s arm slipped in through the gap, went under her neck, and then she held the Shen Yiyi who was resting on her arm in her arms, holding her tightly.