"Once in the rain, it was said to me"

"To cherish each other through this life and beyond"

"Once in the wind, it swore to me"

"To never leave my side—"

"How many tender dreams were woven, how many scenes of love and hate carved into memory. Why does everything still end up as empty..."

In a dimly lit KTV booth, an older couple passionately performed "Promise in the Wind". On the large screen, John Woo's tearful farewell to Anita Mui's wounded character unfolded—the iconic closing scene from The Killer.

After finishing the song, the man who was five parts handsome, three parts debonair and two parts weathered grabbed a bottle of beer off the table. After gulping down half, he fed the remaining liquid through his lips to the alluring woman in his arms.

A long pause passed before she could finally gasp for breath. Smiling with languid amusement, she remarked, "Zhengdao, your singing is still as good as it was back then. And you're just as playful."

"Xiaofang," he murmured against her lips, "your mouth remains as soft as it used to be. Two decades have passed yet your skin keeps that same silken texture."

Giggling wantonly, she reached down between his legs and teased, "So why the sudden restraint today? You've lost your bite compared to our youth?"

Wang Zhengdao smiled faintly, capturing her hand in his, "Why not test it for yourself later?"

"But I have my period tonight," she pouted with bedroom eyes. "Are you suggesting we break traffic signals?"

How inconvenient. Wang Zhengdao's face fell instantly. The woman only laughed harder, pressing close to whisper in his ear, "Getting downcast already? Remember how you used to love my tricks during university days? Tonight I'll let you take it slow... just this once."

His spirits revived at her words as he nodded eagerly.

"Too risky here," she murmured suggestively. "Let's go back to the car..."

"Aye-aye," Wang Zhengdao retracted his hand from his belt, thinking how his son had explicitly forbidden using the family car for car shakin'. But surely playing classical instruments in the vehicle would count as something entirely different...

Meanwhile Wang Zhuo was driving his father's Range Rover off the highway into Jiaxing. From Jiangzhou through Jiaxing, Haining and Hangzhou to Yunnan via Jinhua was a direct route through China proper. After becoming sick of endless school lectures, he had kicked his clinical theory textbook under the bed and headed west for gemstone trading.

Fatty Dragon had been completely consumed by a Dance dance revolution cheat code since discovering it weeks ago—now he spent days shouting insults in-game, sending virtual gowns to Xiaomei, and hooking up with various girls. His drawing tablet already bore dozens of tally marks representing each new conquest...

On one occasion he returned home having carved two notches at once.

Wang Zhuo had nearly considered throwing him out before leaving—until the rotund sidekick pleaded so earnestly for his key back that he eventually relented, since no one could match Fatty Dragon's round-the-clock availability when summoned.

The SUV pulled up to a budget hotel on Jiaxing's outskirts. The hotel booking had been made online two days earlier—the first time Wang Zhuo used the internet without assistance after years of digital illiteracy.

"Miss Qi, we've arrived at the hotel," he called gently twice but received no response from the passenger seat.

Finally giving up, he exited first and instructed security to watch over her. After checking in and retrieving their keys at reception, Wang Zhuo returned to wake Miss Qi Fei a second time.

This time she stirred slightly, dragging herself out of the car with unsteady steps. She leaned heavily on his shoulder as they staggered toward the hotel entrance together.

Elevator ride to the top floor, card key swipe. The suite arrangement pleased Wang Zhuo. He laid her down in the outer room where she lay pliant and defenseless, prompting him to mutter sarcastically about how he'd never trust anyone who called clear sake a regular drink again.

Earlier that afternoon Guan Yingying had insisted on giving the two adventurers a farewell banquet at their suburban workshop, bringing three bottles of Japanese clear sake along with boxed meals. None could read the label but she confidently declared it was non-alcoholic—she drank something similar to beer strength in Europe's Japanese restaurants and swore three glasses would never tip anyone over.

After refilling her cups, they all downed shots. Wang Zhuo sampled a sip and immediately recognized the sweet fermented aroma with subtle alcoholic notes. He politely declined further consumption citing his driving duties while Miss Qi Fei became enamored of the flavor. By last count Guan Yingying had finished one full bottle plus half another—Miss Qi Fei consuming the rest.

After dinner, Wang Zhuo checked his phone and discovered clear sake actually ranged between 12-16% ABV—a 400ml bottle being roughly equivalent to three tablespoons of low-strength liquor. Given how much Miss Qi had consumed, it was obvious she'd been dangerously overindulging.

With no choice but to carry both women into the car two hours ahead of schedule, Wang Zhuo first delivered Guan Yingying home before resuming their journey with a snoring Miss Qi Fei in tow.

He removed her stilettos and shrugged off his jacket before stepping into the bathroom. Wang Zhengdao's rules about shoes on sleeping feet or clothing during rest were echoing in his mind...

Wang Zhuo decided one step would suffice.

The hotel shower head delivered impressive pressure. After a refreshing cleanse, he adjusted the air conditioner with remote control.

Miss Qi Fei lay sideways across the bed, wrinkling her sheets from restless tossing. Her clothes had become disheveled, elastic jeans accentuating the curves of her slim lower body through the fabric.

Her newly pinned hair hung slightly askew around rounded, luminous ears adorned with tiny jade earrings. Full red lips glistened with natural moisture while long lashes fanned upward under soft lighting. The smooth forehead reflected ambient illumination from the room...

Wang Zhuo's gaze lingered on her lips before he felt his body warming up.

Tugging uncomfortably at his bath towel, he hesitated—was it right to leave her like this in the outer room? Maybe Wang Zhengdao would advise helping remove those restrictive clothes first?

Just then Miss Qi Fei shifted position. Her right hand reached behind herself and scratched absentmindedly through layers of fabric.

Wang Zhuo chuckled as she obviously couldn't reach whatever itch through the athletic jacket, blouse and possibly multiple bra clasps. She made several futile attempts before finally giving up with a frustrated shudder.

Without thinking he simply extended his hand to assist her—and only then realized just how impossible it was. The wide shoulder straps were reinforced with steel rings, completely blocking access beneath.

Meanwhile she had pulled the blouse hem out from her jeans and was now trying to scratch through that opening as well. A strip of pale skin appeared at her waistline which brought back memories of that summer day when sunlight had briefly illuminated his own room...

His hand hovered longer than intended over her back, fingers and palm absorbing warmth while he caught her distinctive scent. The atmosphere became charged with tension.

Miss Qi Fei attempted another scratch but failed again, desperately reaching out to grasp Wang Zhuo's hand for help—she didn't realize it was the wrong one due to numbness from keeping that arm tucked beneath herself too long.

Before he knew it his fingers had undone a clasp and brushed against soft skin. She moaned appreciatively, pulling away her hand with satisfaction.

He continued stroking those sensitive spots, each motion drawing more contented sighs as if operating on remote control. He traced patterns across the back, smoothing through the fabric like petting an obedient kitten.

Gradually his hand moved lower and slower, shifting from scratching to caressing. Her breathing grew heavier, legs shuddering with restless energy.

When his hand finally reached her underarm ascending upward, she suddenly contracted that arm—pinching his wandering hand between her armpits!

Wang Zhuo's mind snapped instantly—he had been caught red-handed as he realized she had actually woken up some time ago. His large palm remained pressed against something delightfully soft despite the predicament.

The room held its breath in silence except for the air conditioner humming. Both parties froze uncertainly, neither knowing how to proceed next.

After what felt like an eternity Miss Qi Fei's grip loosened and he carefully withdrew his hand back.

Embarrassed beyond words, Wang Zhuo sat there considering whether apologies were necessary for this clear case of taking advantage...

He didn't realize the best course would be to silently retreat into the inner room as if nothing had happened. Instead she was secretly relieved—she urgently needed to use the restroom right now.

The internet proverb "dreams always get cut short by nature's call" applied perfectly here. The final 24 hours were ticking away, please support Red Sausage until the end!