In the Zhizheng era of the Yuan dynasty, there lived a ascetic monk in the Kuocang Mountains, with the dharma name Zhengyi and the daoist title Gufeng.This monk had originally been the top scholar in the prefectural academy. From childhood he possessed the root of wisdom. Day and night in his swaddling clothes he would babble “yi yi wu wu,” reciting phrases exactly like schoolchildren chanting their lessons. At first his parents thought it was merely a toddler learning to speak and paid it no mind.Later, a wandering monk came to beg alms. He saw the plump infant in the maid’s arms, looking as though it were half-crying, half-smiling, its mouth ceaselessly muttering. The itinerant drew closer, pricked up his ears, and was so astonished his jaw dropped. He cried out that the child was reciting the Lengyan Great Treasury Sutra and declared it the reincarnation of a great master, insisting on taking it as his disciple.The couple refused outright. They cursed the wild monk roundly, seized the broom behind the door, and drove him out.When Zhengyi began his studies, he indeed memorized everything at a glance—an unmistakable prodigy. His family hoped he would pass the examinations and bring honor to the ancestors, but the boy cared nothing for fame or fortune. He spent all his time delving into Buddhist teachings, for which he received countless beatings from his father. Unable to endure the pain any longer, he reluctantly sat for the exams and passed on his first attempt, entering the prefectural academy and receiving a government stipend.After his parents passed away, he dutifully observed the full three years of mourning. On the day the mourning period ended, he divided the entire family fortune among his clansmen, keeping not a single coin. He sewed a crude leather sack, filled it with a wooden fish, sutras, and old robes, shaved his head with a knife, and barefoot strode into the deep mountains to cultivate in seclusion.Thereafter, those who knew him respectfully called him “Elder Gufeng”; those who did not, seeing the leather sack, simply called him “Leather Bag Monk.”This monk was utterly unlike the gluttonous and lustful monks in temples. He touched neither meat nor wine and regarded women’s bodies as venomous snakes and scorpions. He imposed three iron precepts upon himself: never to solicit alms, never to preach from a platform, and never to enter famous mountains or ancient temples.When asked why he refused alms, he sneered: “To attain Buddhahood, there is no comfortable path. One must labor the body and starve the belly, letting hunger and cold scrape daily at the bones! When the body suffers cold and hunger, the root of evil between the legs grows naturally weak, and lustful fires cannot ignite. If the lower part does not act foolishly, the lustful thoughts in the mind can be eradicated, and the spirit platform will find peace. Over time, the fleshly body will naturally become Buddha. But if one merely eats without working, relying on foolish patrons for fine food and wine, then ‘when the belly is full, lust arises.’ While wandering outside, the eyes inevitably fall upon young women and wives; lying down to sleep, dreams fill with naked, warm, soft flesh. Not only will one fail to become Buddha, but every kind of lustful demon will queue up to seek one out!”When asked why he remained silent despite his profound knowledge, he scoffed again: “Buddhist sutras and verses all come from the mouths of Buddhas and bodhisattvas. Unless the Buddha himself descends, who can truly explain their meaning? When ordinary people mount the platform to preach, it is merely madmen chewing their tongues and fools speaking in dreams! In the past, Tao Yuanming read Central Plains literature and still advocated ‘not seeking deep understanding.’ We Central Plains people cannot even fully grasp our ancestors’ writings; how much less can we understand scriptures from foreign India, then glibly translate and fabricate with oily mouths? I dare not strive to be a meritorious servant of the Buddhas and bodhisattvas; I only wish to avoid twice becoming a sinner who distorts the Buddha’s meaning! Therefore I will never preach.”When pressed why he refused to enjoy comfort in famous mountains and great temples, preferring a thatched hut in the wilderness, he spat and said: “For the cultivator, the first necessity is to tightly close the eyes that invite wind and fire, lest desires disturb the meditative mind. The things that can ensnare the soul in this world are not limited to women’s flesh and yellow-white silver. The refreshing breeze, the bright moon that itches the heart, the melodious wild birds, the crisp tender wild vegetables—any of these can soften the bones and shake the daoist resolve. Once one moves into famous scenic mountains, the beautiful scenery will surely tempt one to write poetry and roam. Those who go to famous mountains to study never finish their books; those who cultivate there can never cleanse the root of fame and profit from their hearts! Moreover, in every famous mountain temple, are there not painted and powdered young women burning incense? Are there not idle gentlemen in fine robes strolling about? Was the scandal of Honglian breaking Yutong Chanshi’s precept of lust not warning enough?”Hearing this, everyone was filled with admiration, calling it a realm no great monk of antiquity had ever penetrated. Because he upheld these three iron precepts, the less he sought fame, the more miraculous his reputation became. People from ten li around flocked to become his disciples, breaking down his threshold. Yet the monk was sharp-eyed and hard-hearted; he accepted no one lightly. Only after repeated scrutiny confirming genuine Buddhist affinity and complete absence of worldly thoughts would he wield the razor. If he detected even a trace of vulgarity, he would drive the person out with a carrying pole. Thus, after half a lifetime, he had not a single disciple. Alone, he built three thatched huts beside the desolate mountains and evil waters, digging the earth at sunrise and swallowing bran at sunset, enduring the years in bitter cultivation.On this day, autumn winds swept the land, vegetation withered, and cold insects cried mournfully throughout the mountain. The monk rose at dawn, swept the fallen leaves before the door, replaced the pure water on the Buddha altar, lit a stick of incense, pulled over the worn rush cushion, and sat cross-legged in the main hall to enter meditation.Just as he reached a state of forgetting self and object, he suddenly heard footsteps outside the half-closed wooden door. A handsome young scholar, followed by two page boys, swaggered inside.The scholar’s features were as clear as autumn water, his figure as graceful as a half-rolled spring cloud. Yet he possessed a pair of peach-blossom thief’s eyes brimming with wicked energy, pupils shooting forth lascivious light. He disdained looking at people directly, preferring to glance at them sideways from the corner of his eye. These eyes were useless for anything proper, but when used to steal glances at women, they were truly divine!He needed no proximity to appraise a woman. Even from dozens of meters away, a single sidelong glance instantly told him whether her breasts were large, her buttocks pert, or her flesh tender and juicy. If he spotted a supreme beauty, his gaze shot forth like a hooked flying dagger.If the approaching woman was proper and modest, lowering her head and quickening her step as though treading on wild dog droppings, the glance would strike empty air. But should he encounter a wanton creature whose bones were already itching below, the spectacle was marvelous—his sidelong glance flew over, and her seductive aura instantly rippled back. Across the entire street, their eyes alone could strip each other naked on the spot and entwine them inseparably.Therefore, whether man or woman, anyone born with such soul-stealing, wicked eyes is surely no decent sort. Future ruin, name dragged through the mud, and fingers pointed at one’s back—all will stem from these thieving eyes.The handsome scholar entered the meditation hall and performed every courtesy. First he respectfully kowtowed three times before the clay Buddha on the altar, then turned and bowed three times to the old monk with proper decorum, before standing quietly beside the rush cushion, hands at his sides.The old monk had been deep in meditation at a critical juncture and could not immediately return the greeting. After slowly expelling the turbid qi from his dantian, he descended from the cushion, performed a deep bow, and returned three bows in kind.The two sat facing each other as host and guest. The monk joined his palms and asked, “May I know the honorable guest’s name?”The scholar straightened his collar, gently waved his folding fan, assumed a refined air, and smiled: “This humble one is a scholar who travels everywhere. Currently wandering the Suzhou and Hangzhou region, friends in the jianghu have bestowed upon me the sobriquet ‘Weiyang Sheng.’ Long have I admired the Chan master as a great monk and living Buddha reincarnate. I have fasted and bathed for several days to come up the mountain and pay my respects, hoping to seek a few true words of Buddhist teaching.”The old monk saw the string of lavish compliments and repeatedly waved his hands, chanting “Amitabha” in modest refusal. Just then the earthenware pot on the stove began to puff steam; the coarse rice was done. The monk ladled out two bowls and invited him to share a simple meal.Seated across the battered wooden table, the two ate coarse rice while discussing Zen.The old monk tossed out a few abstruse Zen riddles merely to test him, yet Weiyang Sheng responded with astonishing speed. Within two or three exchanges the dialogue meshed perfectly, not a drop of water leaking through!It turned out the youth truly possessed learning, and his mind was extraordinarily agile. He had long since devoured all manner of miscellaneous books from the Three Teachings and Nine Schools. Those Buddhist knots that left dull monks scratching their heads for half a lifetime, the old monk had barely uttered half a phrase before Weiyang Sheng’s eyes rolled and he immediately drew inferences, laying bare every detail.The old monk held his coarse earthen bowl, outwardly calm, yet inside a storm raged:What a heaven-born demon of spiritual root!That blind old heaven should randomly bestow such supreme wisdom capable of attaining Buddhahood upon a lascivious, troublemaking body!Every movement and glance of this youth showed not the slightest Buddhist inclination. He was plainly a libertine whose courage reached the heavens and whose mind crawled with lustful worms!If today I do not strip this skin of Buddhist precepts from him and forcibly shave him on the cushion, once this scourge descends the mountain he will spend his days digging tunnels and climbing walls, burrowing into the fragrant beds and brocade quilts of great households. Countless decent women will be ruined by the evil root in his trousers, their bones softening and sinews numbing, their families destroyed!The monk thought: “Since I have encountered this seed of calamity today, if I do not remove this scourge for all living beings under heaven, what kind of compassionate Zen am I cultivating?!”Having made up his mind, the old monk slammed his bowl and chopsticks onto the table.Two venomous-snake-like gazes instantly fixed upon Weiyang Sheng’s face. In a low voice he said:“In the decades since this old monk shaved his head and left the household, he has seen no fewer than eight or nine thousand worldly visitors. We need not speak of those foolish men and women who know only eating, drinking, and excreting; even high officials spouting benevolence and righteousness, or self-proclaimed lofty poets and scholars who come up the mountain to listen to sutras and ask about Zen, are in truth all ignorant blockheads!”At this point the old monk leaned forward slightly, his tone filled with patient guidance:“Yet I never imagined that at such a young age the layman’s mind could be so penetrating. If you would apply this spiritual nature to seated meditation, within three to five years you could surely attain the right fruit! In one lifetime it is easy to obtain a stinking fleshly body; what is rare is this supreme root of wisdom you brought from the womb. Decades of good years flow away like water in the blink of an eye, yet the romantic karmic debts incurred—how will you repay them in the next life?”“You were born with the makings of a Buddha or ancestor. Why forsake the bright Yangguan road and plunge headlong into the Avici hell swarming with evil ghosts and yakshas?”#ClassicNewTranslationOfRouPuTuan<img src="https://static2.fansone.co/images/8a458c9a-ad2c-4675-83ba-ee81e1a2794b.avif" />

Classic New Translation of Rou Pu Tuan, Chapter Two

The old monk’s eyes gleamed with inner light as he fixed his gaze on Weiyangsheng and spoke with patient guidance: “It would be better, benefactor, to take advantage of your present youthful body while it remains that of a virgin, your vital essence undispersed and your yang energy abundant. With one stroke, sever that foul, sinful desire completely, and immediately take me as your master to enter the empty gate! This old monk is willing to be a mere stepping stone, a grindstone for your blade. If you dare make this great vow today, then after a hundred years when your stinking flesh has rotted away, looking upward you shall sit upon a lotus platform as a golden-bodied arhat; looking downward, your name shall never appear on the King of Hell’s register of oil cauldrons and seas of fire!” The old monk twirled his prayer beads, his eyes boring into Weiyangsheng as he asked coldly: “Benefactor, what is your decision?” Weiyangsheng slapped his thigh and burst into loud laughter: “Master, your discernment is clear! To tell the truth, the thought of taking refuge in the Buddhist order occurred to me even as a child; this stinking flesh of mine was always destined for the Dharma. What ruined it is that two immense wishes still remain unfulfilled in my heart, and I truly cannot bear to sever them with one stroke right now.” He leaned back, idly tapping his folding fan against his palm, a meaningful smile playing on his lips: “Besides, I have only just turned twenty this year, when my blood and energy are at their strongest and my body most robust. Better to let me descend the mountain first, fulfill the two fine matters that weigh on my heart, and thoroughly enjoy a few years in this flourishing world. When I have had my fill of pleasure and enjoyment, I shall naturally return to the mountain and allow you, Master, to perform the ordination on my head. That will not delay my attainment of enlightenment!” Hearing this, the old monk’s eyelids lifted, and two venomous, serpentine gazes sliced across Weiyangsheng’s face as he asked sinisterly: “May I ask, layman, just how great are the ambitions you harbor? Could it be that you wish to pass the imperial examinations with honors, rise rapidly in rank, and put your literary talents to use? Or do you intend to wield a three-foot sword at the frontier, earn a marquisate, and serve the court with loyalty?” Weiyangsheng shook his head like a rattle-drum and scoffed: “With my aspirations, I disdain such vulgar pursuits!” The old monk snorted heavily through his nostrils and asked gravely: “If you want neither fame nor office, then what do you seek?” Weiyangsheng suddenly straightened his back and declared proudly: “This wish of mine can be achieved with nothing but my own mortal body; it is no foolish daydream! To be frank, Master, my memory for study, my insight in meditation, and my inspiration in writing are all of the highest order in this vast world. The so-called literary luminaries of today are nothing but fame-seeking mediocrities! They rely on rote memorization and patchwork, stealing old essays and altering a few lines of stale poetry to dare proclaim themselves masters of a generation. In my eyes, they are all common frauds deceiving the world!” His interest aroused, he stood up, flicked his sleeve, and struck a dashing, romantic pose: “A true scholar who stands above the heavens and earth must read every rare book and miscellaneous learning under the sky, befriend every extraordinary person within the four seas, and visit every majestic mountain and great river! Then, retiring to his study’s warm chamber, he writes works that will be read and revered for generations. With good fortune, he may rank among the top three on the imperial list and handle a couple of great affairs for His Majesty; even if he dies of old age beneath a broken wall, he will have lived as an immortal romantic of the ages!” Carried away, he raised one finger and struck the table heavily: “Therefore, I have long inscribed half a couplet in my heart—the first line being: ‘To become the foremost talent in the world!’” The monk’s face twitched as he pressed: “And the second line?” Weiyangsheng’s lips moved, a bright spring-like flush appearing on his face, but he hesitated and did not reply at once. Seeing his expression, the old monk’s mouth curved in mockery: “Since you cannot bring yourself to speak it, why not allow this old monk to match the second line for you?” Weiyangsheng was taken aback, then patted his chest and laughed: “This is a secret thought I have kept hidden in my heart, never spoken to anyone…” The old monk said coldly: “If I guess wrong, I accept punishment; if I hit the mark, do not try to deny it!” Weiyangsheng treated it as a bluff and laughed loudly: “If Master can truly divine it, then you are a living immortal reincarnated; I shall kowtow and worship you without a single false word!” The old monk gave a cold laugh, did not even lift his eyelids, and said offhandedly: “Then the second line must be: ‘To sleep with the foremost beauty in the world.’” Weiyangsheng’s mouth fell open, his eyeballs nearly popping out of their sockets! He stood frozen like a wooden chicken for a long moment, then suddenly slapped his thigh hard, gasping and crying out: “Divine monk! Truly a divine being! These two lines are exactly what I have been turning over in my belly day and night, muttering through clenched teeth even in dreams! How could Master guess them so precisely?” The old monk sneered mockingly: “Has the layman never heard the saying—‘In a dark room with a guilty conscience, the divine eye is like lightning; whispers in the human world are heard in heaven like thunder’?” Weiyangsheng simply tore off his scholar’s cap, casting aside all pretense of refinement, and shamelessly leaned forward to confess: “By rights, such lustful talk should never sully a master’s pure ears in a sacred Buddhist place. But since you have seen through me at a glance, I shall hide nothing—To be honest, my heart for cultivating Buddhism and saving the world is as thin as window paper, yet the evil fire of lust burns within me daily, fiercer than oil poured on flames! Since ancient times, the four words ‘talented man and beautiful woman’ must be welded tightly together, inseparable! A top-tier talent like myself is destined to be matched with a peerless beauty; otherwise, how could those nation-toppling, city-captivating looks be wasted on crude and vulgar fools?” His eyes grew brighter as he spoke, spittle flying in excitement: “Setting aside my heaven-shaking, ghost-weeping talent, just look at my appearance and bearing—facing the mirror daily, even if Pan An or Wei Jie were resurrected before me, I would not yield an inch! Since Heaven has produced such an outstanding figure as myself, how could it fail to produce a soul-stealing beauty to accompany me?” He clenched his fist tightly and declared fiercely: “It is precisely because this evil fire cannot be suppressed that I, past twenty, have refused to betroth or marry, fearing that wedding some ordinary woman would waste this romantic body of mine! After I descend the mountain this time to wander the rivers and lakes, find the world’s finest beauty and consummate the affair, enjoying the pleasures of fish and water to the fullest and continuing the family line, then—my lifelong desires fulfilled and my flesh thoroughly satisfied—I shall sever worldly ties. Not only will I return to shave my head and become a monk, but I shall also bring my lovely wife into the empty gate with me, ascending to the other shore together!” He caught his breath, chin slightly raised, and looked at the old monk with raised eyebrows: “Master, what do you think of this plan of mine?” The old monk’s eye twitched as he crushed the ebony prayer beads in his palm with a “crack,” and said expressionlessly: “From this, it seems the layman refuses to suffer the slightest loss and blames the blind, muddled Creator for giving birth to you! Had He granted you a crippled, ulcerous, pus-dripping monstrous body in the womb, your remaining spark of spirituality might more easily have attained enlightenment. Throughout history, those afflicted with leprosy, epilepsy, or paralysis—whose flesh endured Heaven’s great punishments—were instead able to forge indestructible immortal bodies. That is the principle.” The old monk leaned forward, his gaze like a bottomless dry well, his tone growing colder: “When you were conceived, Heaven must have indulged you to excess, like foolish parents spoiling a wastrel—never willing to touch a single hair or speak a harsh word. Once this unruly youth grew up, relying on his fair skin and strong bones, he thought even the Heavenly King could not control him, committing every kind of evil in the streets! Only when he committed a heinous crime, had his trousers stripped and his buttocks beaten to pulp by officials, and was dragged to the execution ground to have his head severed, did he weep bitterly and blame his parents for spoiling him too much—alas, too late for regret!” He pointed a bony finger at Weiyangsheng’s chest: “This fair, tender skin and this lawless, spoiled temperament of yours—is that a blessing? Clearly it is a soul-hook stretching from the fires of hell! You claim to be the foremost talent and thus seek the world’s foremost beauty—never mind whether you can find such a rarity; how will you prove the word ‘foremost’? If you later encounter an even more captivating woman, will you not tire of the old and crave the new?!” At this, the old monk’s voice suddenly rose like thunder cracking across a plain: “Even if we take ten thousand steps back, suppose this number-one beauty’s temperament matches yours exactly and refuses to marry just anyone, insisting on waiting for the world’s number-one talent—if you can marry her openly and honorably, well and good; but what if she is already married to another? What then, benefactor?” The old monk suddenly stood up, his kasaya billowing without wind, towering over Weiyangsheng: “Benefactor, do you wish to ascend to heaven or descend to hell?! If you are determined to leap into the boiling oil cauldron, then descend the mountain and seek your number-one beauty; if you wish to rise to heaven and become a Buddha, cast aside those wanton, filthy thoughts at once and follow this old monk into the empty gate!” Faced with the old monk’s aggressive questioning, Weiyangsheng was not intimidated; instead, he leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and sneered dismissively: “Master speaks of ‘heaven’ and ‘hell’ as if from some vulgar street tale—hardly the words of a transcendent monk! Zen cultivation lies in self-realization; as long as this disciple stands his flesh-and-blood body in this red-dust world, he himself becomes the living Buddha practicing amid the world!” He glanced sideways, flicked open his folding fan with a “swish,” and grew more smug: “Even if this disciple is licentious by nature and commits some watery sins upon women’s bellies, at worst he merely smashes the chastity arch of those fake Confucian sages—surely the netherworld does not truly have several boiling oil cauldrons waiting to cook me?! These are nothing but ghost stories to frighten three-year-old children!” The old monk was not angered by this frivolous speech; instead, a cold smile tugged at his lips: “‘The virtuous ascend to heaven, the wicked descend to hell’—it does sound like empty street-corner talk. Yet you self-proclaimed mad scholars think you can leap beyond the rules and laws of this world; only the iron law of cause and effect, of reaping what you sow, cannot be escaped even if you grew three heads and six arms! The distinction between heaven and hell is exact in the unseen realm. Even if there truly is no heaven, the gentleman must still use it as a ladder toward goodness; even if there truly is no hell, people must still use it as a cleaver to fear evil!” The old monk raised one hand before his chest, his tone shifting from measured to grave, each word striking like a heavy drumbeat: “Since you dismiss the underworld as illusory, this old monk will not speak of reincarnation or retribution, but only of the present-life consequences in the life you are living! The ancients said: ‘If I do not violate another’s wife, another will not violate my own.’ Has there ever been one throughout history who escaped the palm of this saying? Whoever, against his conscience, toys with another’s wife or daughter—his own wife or daughter will sooner or later lose her virtue to another man! To break this karmic retribution, you must restrain your lustful heart in this lifetime and stay far from all adulterous deeds; if you dare commit evil, this clichéd retribution will surely fall heavily upon you!” The old monk slammed both hands on the table, leaning forward and staring into Weiyangsheng’s eyes: “Layman, do you wish to escape this cause and effect? If you wish to fall into the trap and die, then go seek your world’s foremost beauty; if you wish to attain a pure life, immediately cast aside those filthy thoughts and follow this old monk to achieve enlightenment!” #ClassicNewTranslationOfTheCarnalPrayerMat <img src="https://static2.fansone.co/images/f2802c78-f436-497d-b089-ad1bb8162816.avif" />

Classic New Translation of The Carnal Prayer Mat, Chapter 3

I was just being fucked hard by a rich second-gen on the hood of his Lamborghini. My husband was sitting in the driver's seat, thinking he was clever by trying to start the car to add some excitement for us. Unexpectedly, the engine roared with a loud bang, the car shook violently, and the second-gen lying on top of me got scared and came right on the spot… I was just starting to feel something when it suddenly stopped. My damn husband must have done it on purpose! The second-gen lost face and got furious, but he wasn't willing to let me go just like that. He pulled up his pants, stuffed me into the passenger seat, and insisted on taking me shopping at the mall. The engine roared, the Lamborghini sped off, and on the golden bull emblem on the hood, you could vaguely see a blob of white fluid… In the rearview mirror, my husband was left standing alone in the original spot, with a ball of toilet paper I had just used to wipe myself lying at his feet. Looking at the young and handsome face beside me, I thought to myself how hot-tempered young people are these days. Compared to him, his dad is much stronger. If it weren't for the three-pointed star emblem on the Mercedes hood being too uncomfortable last time, it wouldn't have been the son's turn to experience this real "car sex" first. In the rearview mirror, my husband was bending over to pick something up. He really "has manners"—even when leaving, he didn't forget to pick up the ball of toilet paper stuck with the second-gen's semen from the ground. The second-gen's dad is an old scoundrel who refuses to age in spirit. He usually likes to call his bootlickers around to drink and have fun with girls. My husband is one of those bootlickers. I heard they often play some game like "guess the object by smell". Do you think when the old guy smells this ball of toilet paper today, he'll be able to guess what it is? #SlutWifeDictatedDiary

SlutWifeDictatedDiary001

I work as the deputy manager in the finance department of a company. Two years ago while dating Mei Yang'er, I embezzled money from the leader's private "small treasury" using my position. Half went into stock trading to turn my life around, and half was spent on her—buying luxury goods, taking her on trips, and eating extravagant meals in extreme opulence. Now she has become my wife, but the embezzlement was exposed. Fortunately the leader avoided reporting it to the police and only demanded compensation before firing me. With no choice I sold the house and car to cover the shortfall. Now jobless, we are crammed into a rundown rental apartment, so broke that even three meals a day are a problem.Although my wife knows my predicament, she still spends money lavishly without a job, leaving us worrying about credit card payments every month.My wife is a lustful woman. Before meeting me she had blind dates with all kinds of men. Relying on her seductive looks she nearly became a marriage scammer for a shady matchmaking service, but her short stature and lazy, gluttonous nature left her somewhat overweight, so she never landed a real rich husband.We met through an online game. After a bit of dirty talk we arranged to meet. Soon after we started dating she quit her job—her worldview is that a woman should rely on a man.We often chat about her ex-boyfriends and she is completely frank with me. She says at first she only accepted gifts, but later she started asking for money. After all, those men would spend money looking for women anyway. Youth only lasts a few years; since they slept with her, she wouldn't give them that for free even if feelings didn't develop.From then on I had a clear picture of what kind of woman she was, but I didn't break up with her. First, because I was "flush" at the time and generous with her; whenever we argued and I suggested splitting up she would pester me relentlessly, giving me endless headaches. Second, because I had already spent so much money on her—if we broke up it would all be wasted. Although she is naturally promiscuous, she is beautiful and great in bed, satisfying my every need, so I really couldn't let go.During that period I often comforted myself like this: I'm no saint anyway, and even after marriage I won't stay faithful. If she betrays me later I won't lose out! Besides, who knows how the future will turn out? I'll just enjoy the good times while I can—once this chance is gone it's gone forever. Being a man, experiencing a woman like this means I haven't lived in vain!#TheTakeoutIDeliveredIsMyWife <img src="https://static2.fansone.co/images/cc85f4a6-f06d-414f-9902-d6161bff7f6e.avif" />

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Classic New Translation of Rou Pu Tuan, Chapter Two

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