The woman's round, pert behind sat on the edge of the bed, her left leg lifted slightly at a thirty-five-degree angle.
With a careless air, she slowly peeled the black silk stocking from her shapely leg, revealing the expanse of fair, flawless skin that had been hidden beneath.
The entire process retained its elegance.
Tang Feng lay on his side in bed, not daring to let out a breath for fear that the woman would discover his voyeurism.
But his eyes uncontrollably fixed on those beautiful legs and the enticing stockings.
Growing up, this was the first time he had ever witnessed the process of a woman taking off her stockings.
Beauty, when adorned with a touch of allure, often exponentially magnifies one's desires.
And all the more so for a seventeen or eighteen-year-old who hadn't seen much of the world, a veritable spring chicken.
Tang Feng felt a raging fire burning in his lower abdomen, as if all the blood in his body was boiling.
The black stockings finally came off the beautiful legs and were carelessly tossed by the woman onto a table nearby.
Then she removed her short skirt and threw it aside as well.
"Phew, that's so comfortable," the woman murmured contentedly to herself.
She stood up.
In the lamplight.
Her graceful body curves were now fully exposed to Tang Feng's gaze.
The checkered shirt just barely covered half of her perky behind.
That full, luscious behind was tightly encased in a milky white thong.
Those long, moisturized, well-proportioned legs seemed as if they had been brushed with a layer of milk, pure white, without a single flaw.
Barefoot, she stepped onto the floor.
Each step she took was like that of an elegant cat, her rear end casting beautiful, fluid arcs with every movement.
She walked to the table where she casually picked up a yogurt that lay there.
She opened the yogurt and gracefully took a sip.
In that moment, she turned around, her gaze meeting Tang Feng's eyes as he lay on the bed.
Time briefly stood still.
In Tang Feng's eyes, a drop of milky white yogurt hung from the corner of the woman's mouth, quickly sliding down her chin and falling to the floor.
After a brief moment of surprise, the woman quickly regained her composure.
She didn't scream like an ordinary woman might, nor did she frantically search for anything to cover herself, but remained calm and collected in her demeanor.
The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, revealing a mischievous smile.
"Little brother, you're being naughty, spying on your sister like that."
Her coquettish voice almost turned Tang Feng's bones to jelly.
Tang Feng couldn't keep up the act and quickly rose from the bed.
He stood there with his head lowered, looking every bit the child caught red-handed by a teacher, tense and uneasy.
"Sister, I... I didn't do it on purpose."
Giggle.
The woman couldn't help but cover her mouth and snicker softly.
"You're still such a kid. I was just teasing you, brother."
Seeing that the woman wasn't angry, Tang Feng finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He cautiously raised his head, his eyes meeting hers again, then quickly looked down, not daring to meet her gaze any longer.
The woman before him seemed to exude a sort of magic from her entire being; just one glance was enough to incite a strong impulse within, making it difficult to stop the mind from wandering.
"You must be Sister Hui's little brother from the village. My name is Han Ling, I'm Sister Hui's close friend and roommate," she said softly with a smile on her lips.
"Han Ling Sister, my name is Tang Feng, you can just call me Tang Feng," Tang Feng said.
Han Ling couldn't help but giggle again, her laughter causing her to blossom like a flower.
She eyed the awkward young man before her, her eyes sparkling with light.
His sturdy build was filled with masculine vigor, his sharply defined features, though still bearing a hint of youthfulness, made him quite the handsome man, but alas, he was a bit of a dunce or perhaps just naive.
Her gaze drifted, pausing when it landed on a certain spot.
The loose shorts were tented sharply upward.
It was like a solitary, towering peak emerging in the middle of a flat plain, a sight to behold.
Upon seeing the makeshift tent, Han Ling felt a surge of excitement.
Moments later, she hastily shifted her gaze away.
"Sister Hui will be busy tonight, she asked me to take you out for a bite. You rest here for a bit, I'm going to take a shower first," Han Ling said, and headed to the bed. Her right hand grabbed the upper rail, she tiptoed, reaching for the skirt hanging on the wall.
As her body rose, the plaid shirt did too.
Her round, plump buttocks and slim waist were fully exposed.
In that instant, the straight, slender legs and the round buttocks, devoid of any excess fat around the waist, forged the perfect curve.
On that lean lower back was tattooed a complex black pattern.
It was the design of a weapon, yet it was entirely dissimilar to any weapon Tang Feng recognized.
Han Ling tried twice but couldn't reach the dress.
"Sister Han, let me help you," Tang Feng offered.
With that, he stepped forward, climbed onto the bunk, and easily retrieved the dress.
"Thanks a bunch, kiddo," Han Ling said with a smile as she took the clothes from him.
"No need to thank me, no need at all," Tang Feng said, his hand waving innocently.
Clutching her sleepwear with her left hand and padding across the floor barefoot, Han Ling swayed her hips as she entered the bathroom.
Soon, the sound of running water echoed from the bathroom.
Tang Feng, sitting on the bed, had already lost all desire to sleep.
His gaze drifted to the table beside him, where her enticing black stockings hung on the corner, seemingly on the verge of slipping off.
The room was saturated with Han Ling's signature scent.
It was different from the smell of medicine—less refreshing but irresistibly alluring, the kind of scent that made you long for another whiff the moment you'd had one.
At this moment, a humming sound wafted out of the bathroom.
The voice was soft, but the melody was enchanting.
Bored to death, Tang Feng stood up and opened his snake-skin bag, pulling out a shoulder bag.
The black bag had seen better days, with some areas of the leather cracked and worn.
He opened the shoulder bag and took out a thread-bound book.
Four ancient seal characters adorned the worn cover.
Carefully, Tang Feng turned the pages and began to read with focus.
Heavenly Book of Night Wandering.
This was the only thing his grandfather had left behind before he vanished.
In his memory, his grandfather had always been enigmatic.
As the village's sole Barefoot Doctor and Feng Shui Master, whether he spoke or acted, there was always an air of mystery surrounding him.
Sometimes, it was downright chilling.
His grandfather had disappeared suddenly, leaving behind only this tattered book. If he wanted to understand his grandfather, to know what had really happened to him, perhaps his only clue lay in this tattered book.
He flipped through the pages, full of ancient script.
Fortunately, since he was very young, his grandfather had forced him to learn this ancient script, so he could read the content of this ragged book without much trouble.
It seemed to be a medical book.
But upon further inspection, it appeared to be a book on Feng Shui and divination.
And yet again, it seemed to be a manual of martial arts secrets.
In the end, he realized it was nothing but a mishmash of a book, with bizarre and disparate content, completely deviating from science.
It's no wonder his grandfather had always been shrouded in mystery.
Probably, he had read too many such books and gone mad from them.
As he skimmed through the book, Tang Feng abruptly looked up toward the bathroom.
His acute hearing picked up some odd sounds.
When a person is wounded and enduring pain, such sounds emanate from their throat.
It was the moaning of agony.
It sounded like Sister Han was in great pain, struggling mightily with it, suppressing it, the sounds intermittent but rhythmic.
Could it be that Sister Han had been injured?
But why did the sound seem somewhat different from the pained moans of patients?