Beauty House

The Pure Embrace

Zhang Yu paused in astonishment and mused, “If she cares not, why should I fear?” Under Wang Tong’s audacious influence, his own daring had grown immensely.

Because Zhang Yu was a spectral presence, Wang Tong felt no compunction regarding his sentiments. In her eyes, a ghost was but like a wisp of air—whether merely an apparition or a tangible shadow, it mattered little, akin to a scene from a film. Yet, she had forgotten that Zhang Yu was indeed a man.

In her bold and unrestrained manner, she believed that sleeping with a ghost would entail nothing of consequence.

As Zhang Yu stepped out of the storage room, Wang Tong remarked, “Are you truly a man? Hesitating to join me in bed—if you were any other man, you would have pounced long ago.”

Zhang Yu shook his head solemnly, “I am not one to be driven solely by base desires; I have my own standards.”

Seeing his earnest demeanor, Wang Tong laughed softly and teased, “Do not all men allow carnal l**t to eclipse sentiment? Tell me, were you still a virgin before your untimely demise?” Her mischievous smile betrayed her audacity.

Owing to her studies in physical education, Wang Tong was accustomed to the company of gruff, unrefined men—individuals who knew nothing of subtlety. Coupled with her own forthright and generous nature, she had quickly assimilated into their ranks, forging bonds as intimate as those among sworn brothers. Within the sports department, she was the most admired of the women.

Initially, some were drawn to Wang Tong solely by her enchanting beauty, yet gradually, her charismatic and chivalrous spirit captivated them, and they became her staunch confidants.

Under the weight of Wang Tong’s saucy advances, Zhang Yu found himself at a loss, replying, “That remains my private matter; I cannot divulge it.” Forced to offer a feeble excuse, he could do little more.

Wang Tong scoffed, “Every man bears the shame of losing his virginity. Judging by your countenance, you remain shackled by disgrace. Alas, your life appears utterly futile.”

Flaring with indignation, Zhang Yu declared, “I shall find a true love. As long as I have not perished, I will reclaim my body and, in due course, secure a beautiful wife.”

Amused by his endearing earnestness, Wang Tong retorted, “Very well, then. When the time comes, invite me to your wedding feast. For now, you may join me in bed.”

Disregarding Zhang Yu’s expectant gaze, Wang Tong discarded her intimate vest and diminutive underpants, boldly stepping into the embrace of her covers, n***d.

“Why strip yourself completely?” Zhang Yu asked in astonishment.

“I have always slumbered in the nude—are you so surprised?” she replied with a laugh. “Linger in your undergarments, and you shall find no comfort; I have long forsaken them in favor of unadorned sleep.”

Although Wang Tong had drawn the covers over herself, a portion of her arm and the curve of her delicate shoulder remained exposed, a sight that Zhang Yu found nearly unbearable.

“My lady, if you persist in this manner, I fear I shall be undone,” he confessed, struggling against the inferno of desire within him. He sensed that, if the allure continued unabated, his own passions would become uncontrollable.

“You, on the contrary, are the true lady,” Wang Tong chided playfully. “Hasten to bed and keep me company with conversation. And henceforth, refrain from addressing any woman as ‘my lady’—it breeds misunderstanding. Do I appear to you as such?”

Swiftly, Zhang Yu dived beneath another quilt, hurriedly using it to conceal his less dignified attributes, finally finding a measure of composure.

“You move to bed with the speed of a 100-meter champion,” Wang Tong observed. “Truly, your condition suits you—no need to eat, nor attend lectures; it is quite comfortable indeed.”

In exasperation, Zhang Yu retorted, “Perhaps you should attempt becoming a ghost yourself, for I have no desire to remain thus! Should you wish to dwell as one, you might try.”

Wang Tong laughed, “I do not possess your fortuity. Were I to plummet from tens of thousands of meters, I would be reduced to mere remnants—no ghost would survive such a fate. You, however, are an exceptionally rare specter!”

Zhang Yu replied, “Fortune favors the virtuous! My survival must be the fruit of past benevolence, allowing my soul to endure even in adversity.”

Lost in his self-congratulation, Zhang Yu drew further praise from Wang Tong, “Spare your self-soothing. If fortune were truly kind, of all the passengers on a flight, only you should perish. Have you not heard the adage—good men have short lives, while evildoers endure for a thousand years?”

Faced with Wang Tong’s candid truth, Zhang Yu was left speechless, for her words unveiled a stark reality from which he could find no solace.

“I vow vengeance!” he seethed, his mind darkly recalling the treachery of Cruz, his manager, and his beloved—a betrayal that left him seething with anger.

Wang Tong regarded him with a teasing glint, “I commend your resolve. A man must embody true masculinity. In your current state, you exude it.”

Amused by her remark, Zhang Yu inquired, “And what, pray tell, does a man truly look like?”

“A man must dare to love and to hate, embrace accountability, be a stalwart hero in life and a valiant spirit in death. I most admire Chief Qiao Feng—a paragon of honor and valor, a man of unparalleled gallantry.”

“Are Duan Yu and Xu Zhu not dashing in their own right?” Zhang Yu countered. “Yet here, their fates were ultimately kind, whereas Qiao Feng met his demise, his beloved lost to death.”

Wang Tong responded, “Duan Yu is but a silver-tongued dandy, enamored with romance yet oblivious to true passion. Though blessed with striking looks, he is all veneer and no substance. As for Xu Zhu, a monk, he is honest and unsullied by infidelity—but can one find true joy with a man as inert as wood?”

With a gentle smile, Zhang Yu queried, “Do you desire a lover of epic stature—a hero whose towering resolve, peerless martial prowess, and unwavering loyalty are matched only by his romantic spirit?”

Wang Tong nodded, “I confess, my yearnings are indeed naïve. But I long for a partner who faces every adversity with a smile. Such a man is exceedingly rare—far preferable to one who is all talk and no substance.” As she spoke, her face shone with wistful longing, as if her ideal love were right there beside her.

Yet soon she sighed, “Alas, after twenty years of seeking, I have yet to encounter such a soul. I now understand that novels remain mere fiction. I possess neither Qiao Feng nor Ah Zhu; at most, I am but A Zi.” A trace of sorrow darkened her features before she again drew the covers over her head.

“You seem burdened by thought,” Zhang Yu observed softly to the tearful Wang Tong.

Emerging from beneath her covers, she dabbed at her tears and replied, “Nonsense—I am not troubled at all. I was merely overcome with transient melancholy. But you must keep this secret; if it escapes, you shall be consigned to the balcony. No, if that proves too lenient, the restroom shall be your refuge.”

Gazing upon the vulnerable, wistful Wang Tong, Zhang Yu’s heart swelled with tender compassion. At last, he perceived that beneath her boisterous exterior lay a sensitive and delicate soul—a femininity often masked by her bold bravado, hidden from all but the most perceptive. All assumed her to be blunt and unyielding, as if she were no less than a tomboy.

With earnest sincerity, Zhang Yu vowed, “Fear not—I shall keep your secret. I give you my solemn oath.”

Wang Tong dismissed his promise with a shake of her head, “It is but a trifling heartbreak—what is there to fret over? I have suffered heartache more times than I care to recall; in a few days, I shall be restored to my former strength.”

“You should be a beauty, not a hero!” Zhang Yu chuckled, gently correcting her.

Wang Tong retorted, “Compared to beauties, I favor heroes—those hearty men who revel in revelry, who feast and drink like the legendary heroes of Liangshan.” Her eyes gleamed with reverie at the thought.

Zhang Yu countered, “But are not these so-called Liangshan heroes merely brigands and cutthroats? Consider even the illustrious Wu Song, who nearly succumbed to the wiles of Sun Erniang—such rogues are far from virtuous. Though they claim to redress wrongs, in truth, they plunder and despoil.”

Wang Tong nodded in understanding, “I see now—at last I comprehend why I was so naïve to be enamored with a mob boss. I should have known that such a man is no hero and cannot bring me happiness. In truth, I once oversimplified the notion of heroism.”

With a sudden burst of clarity, she exclaimed, “I understand—at last, I understand!”

Observing Wang Tong lost in her own soliloquy, Zhang Yu deduced that her secret affection lay with a mob leader, though the specifics remained shrouded in mystery. Prudently, he chose not to press further.

All women harbor fantasies of heroic lovers, yearning for a partner of legendary stature. Yet in this modern age, true heroes are scarce; the prevailing lot are mere ruffians and scoundrels. In a society governed by law, those who brandish weapons in righteous fury are typically associated with criminality.

“Enough—if you have found clarity, then let us rest. We must be prepared for tomorrow’s examination,” Zhang Yu murmured soothingly to Wang Tong.

Her heart unburdened, Wang Tong’s countenance brightened as she declared, “You, my dear, have a knack for consolation. Now, allow your elder sister to bestow upon you a pure embrace.”

With that, she extended her arms and enfolded the reclining Zhang Yu. Her hands passed through his spectral form as if it were mere air, unimpeded by physical boundaries.

“Alas, you possess no body to truly hold me—only a pure embrace remains,” she laughed softly.

Gazing fondly upon the earnest yet tender woman before him, Zhang Yu vowed, “I shall strive with all my might to reclaim a body and become a true man.”