Yao Chen was accustomed to indulgence and dissolution.
He didn't care about sincerity and paid no mind to virginity or chastity.
It was only this time that was fucking unbearable! He almost wanted to strangle Han Yanyan!

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But…
he was loathe to do so.

At that moment, Yao Chen's anger and jealousy was burning far higher than any lust.
He sat in the backseat, holding in his embrace a pliant and softened woman, breathing hard and recovering.
When he had caught his breath, he propped himself up, hauled Han Yanyan up as well and pressed her onto the opposite seat.

The two had never separated.
He was still inside her and the second round came seamlessly as if they had never stopped.

Yao Chen's fury was spilling over.
Since he was reluctant to strike and scold the siren, all he could do was turn anger into lust and burn her to death!

When the tranquil car entered the villa area where Yao Chen lived, it once again began shaking violently.

The driver groaned.

The younger brother in the copilot's seat was relatively zen in comparison, and gestured, “Just do a couple laps around, around…”

The car wandered around the villa for who knew how many laps.
Finally, just as the two in the front were starting to get a little sleepy, the car gave one final, violent shake and stopped!

Thank the heavens!

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The driver parked at Yao Chen's door, yawning.
Since he didn't know what was going on inside, he didn't dare open the door for Yao Chen like usual.
It was a long time before the door opened.

Both Yao Chen and Han Yanyan emerged fully dressed and only a little mussed.
“Don't arrive too early tomorrow,” Yao Chen told them.
“Wait for me to call.” Then he pulled Han Yanyan into his embrace and walked in with her under his arm.

The courtyard was lit, and both the driver and younger brother could clearly see her legs trembling.

The two men re-entered the car, chuckled, and drove away.

Han Yanyan's clothes were wet and sticky, and her legs weak.
She felt terribly uncomfortable.
Compared with the bodies she had had in the prior two worlds, this body was far too weak.
It would have to be well exercised in the future.

“Where is the bedroom? I want to take a bath,” she said wearily once she was inside the door.

Yao Chen snorted.
Slamming the door shut, he shoved her against it.

“Is Ding Yao your ex-boyfriend?” he demanded.

Before, when mentioning Han Yanyan's boyfriend, he had always smilingly referred to him as “your boyfriend”.
Now he had changed the term to 'ex-boyfriend', with an emphasis on the 'ex'.

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Han Yanyan gave him a faint look.
Yao Chen had not responded in any way to the name “Ding Yao”.
Even if he really was Ding Yao, he had no memory of the last world.

She denied it coldly.
“I don't know what you're talking about.
I'm going to take a bath.” She pushed him aside and headed upstairs.

This woman didn't even recognize the man she was fucking.
Yao Chen bared his teeth in anger.

He pressed her back to the door, propped his arms on it to cage her in, and stared at her for a while, pressing the tip of his tongue into his cheek in thought.
Finally, he said, “Forget it this time, but if I ever hear that man's name again, I'll make him disappear.
I hope you realize how many ghosts lie drowned in Qinghe Bay that I put there.”

There was a fierce light in his eyes as he said this.
He was being serious.
A life was nothing to him.
He was full of anger, and since he couldn't bear to take it out on her, he would chop the man up instead and dump his body.

Qinghe Bay…

Han Yanyan memorized the name.
She lowered her eyes and said softly, “What's there for you to mind about someone I'll never see again? Do I care when you take Emily and the others out?”

Not really.

Yao Chen liked to use Sakura and the other escorts to tease her, and Han Yanyan had even seen him take them out for the night, and reacted only with a faint glance.
He had liked watching her look as though she had no emotion.
It was interesting.
But now that he thought about it, in that faint and brief look was not much in the way of caring.

All of a sudden, he no longer liked the feeling.

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Even Emily, May and Sakura were jealous of each other, and competed over how often he took them out.

Han Yanyan relaxed, leaned gently against the door, and said softly, “Don't lose your temper.
I can hardly stand, let's take a shower and go to bed.
You're killing me, you beast.”

Hearing such half-complaining words secretly stroking his male ego, Yao Chen felt better.
Her tired appearance made his heart soften, and he snorted, bent down, and picked her up as if picking up a child.

Han Yanyan let out a cry of surprise, then chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

 

Men who had pulled themselves up by their bootstraps often value material comforts more than those born into wealth.
The big bathtub in Yao Chen's bathroom was simply extravagant.

Han Yanyan soaked until her hands and feet felt boneless.

But Yao Chen wasn't ready to let her go.
Although he looked like he enjoyed how fiercely she crushed him, it wasn't his habit to let anyone else get the upper hand.
He was used to conquering women thoroughly.

Han Yanyan felt as if she was floating in the clouds.
An electric current coursed through her every cell, her every pore was open and breathing.
It seemed like her body had evaporated and solidified once again, and then finally fallen heavily, penetrating through all those layers of clouds and landing on a big, soft bed.

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Her toes were taut and trembling, and her consciousness was blank.
She was instinctively hugging her man, her palms sweaty.
Sweat slid down the valleys and mountains of his muscles, and where their skin was attached to each other, it was wet, sticky, and greasy.
Her bath had been taken in vain.

Yao Chen rolled her over and let her lie on his chest.
Her eyes were out of focus, and her complete absence of mind satisfied him.

He reached out to the bedside table, lit a cigarette, and breathed it in for a while before gently caressing her back and asking, “Feeling better?”

There was no steam that could not be let off through a lengthy tumble.
If one tumble wasn't enough, then have another.

“Un,” Han Yanyan replied.

A long time later, when Yao Chen had almost finished his cigarette, she suddenly said softly, “Sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming…”

“Huh?” Yao Chen asked, around his cigarette.

“I always have this feeling like my own past…
is like someone else's life,” she said low.
“It feels like…
the whole world is somehow not quite right.”

“Yao Chen…” she looked up at Yao Chen and asked, “Do you have ever have the feeling that you're…
trapped by this world?”

She stared at him without blinking, for fear of missing even the minutest change in his expression.

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