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A Qiang's hand rested on her body, naturally taking the opportunity to indulge himself. He even slipped his fingers into her bra, teasing her soft, delicate breast for a moment.
The lingerie was finally in place. A Qiang picked up the panties, shook them open; they were only half the size of his palm. He carefully slid them onto her feet, cautious not to touch any sensitive areas, and slowly pulled them up. When he reached her hips and couldn't pull them any further, he had to use one hand to lift her waist while adjusting the panties with the other. The sheer fabric revealed a hint of her pubic hair, making it even more enticing than if she were wearing nothing at all.
A Qiang leaned down, inhaling the feminine scent that wafted from her, stirring his desires. His arousal had been building for quite some time, and just as he was about to free himself from his pants, he suddenly thought, “Taking advantage of an unconscious woman doesn’t make me a hero!”
With that realization, he forcefully suppressed his urges and covered her with a blanket. The woman, whether dreaming or in pain from her injury, instinctively grasped A Qiang's left hand. He bent down to check her expression; she remained asleep. Allowing her to hold onto him, he slid off the edge of the bed and sat on the floor. After all that effort, he felt exhausted.
It was early morning, and while he didn’t feel like sleeping, he needed a moment of rest. He closed his eyes for about twenty minutes to recharge. A Qiang realized that simply waiting around wasn’t productive. He thought about leaving a note but worried that if something happened to her—if she had suffered a head injury and suddenly worsened—he couldn’t just leave her alone. Torn between indecision and still held by her grip, he decided to stay a little longer. He picked up an old women’s magazine scattered on the floor and began flipping through it.
He was truly bored; after finishing one magazine, he switched to another. Nearly an hour passed before he felt he could no longer endure it. Just as he was about to stand up, he noticed something tucked inside one of the magazines—a driver's license. He took it out and saw the name Qin Xiangyu. Flipping it over revealed an address in Taitung and a student photo. Was this her? She looked somewhat familiar yet different. A Qiang scrutinized it for a long time but couldn’t quite tell; he wanted to compare it with her face again. Turning back, he found the woman awake, silently gazing at him.
He had never seen her eyes open before; now he realized they were large and bright with a deep clarity that left him momentarily stunned.
“Do I look like that?” she asked softly, clearly acknowledging that she was indeed the person on the ID.
A Qiang understood that he had acted impolitely and awkwardly tucked the ID back into the magazine before asking, “You’re awake? Is there anywhere you still feel uncomfortable?”
In truth, she had never completely lost consciousness; alcohol had merely affected her balance and slowed her reactions. From when A Qiang bumped into her to bringing her home, bathing and changing her clothes, right up until now while she rested—she was aware of everything; she just preferred not to wake up.
Every day had been about pleasing men; how long had it been since a man had taken care of her? She found it intriguing that after A Qiang had taken advantage of her once or twice, he hadn’t pursued anything further, which made her feel unexpectedly fond of him.
Still holding onto A Qiang's left hand without saying a word, when he finally stood up, he felt aches all over his body—especially in his arms and waist—painful enough to make him grit his teeth.
Seeing his strained expression made her laugh uncontrollably; she found it utterly amusing.
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