When the morning sunlight streamed through the mottled glass window into William's room, he groggily shook his head and was about to get up when he suddenly felt something soft entwined around him.
Suddenly more awake, William looked down and saw, as expected, the woman he had brought home drunk last night.
At this moment, her white, lotus-like arms were wrapped around his waist. Under the towel blanket, a pair of full, soft breasts were pressed against his thigh, the velvety smoothness unmistakable. Her smooth, white legs were draped over his lower body without any reservation, revealing a tantalizing hint of her hips, still bearing traces of last night's indulgence.
Accompanied by her serenely beautiful face in sleep, William couldn't help but marvel that among the women he had seen in his life, this one definitely ranked in the top three.
Just as William was admiring this divine masterpiece of a woman, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye—a dried stain of red blood on the bedsheet at the foot of the bed.
His heart skipped a beat as he frowned and looked at the still oblivious woman, somewhat surprised. The blood certainly wasn't his, and he hadn't realized that last night's wild beauty was still a virgin.
In hindsight, things made sense. William quickly deduced that the woman's boldness and abandon last night were likely due to being drugged by the bald man and his cronies. Had he not inadvertently chased them away, this black-haired beauty would have become their prey. It was only because he had gotten drunk and brought her home that he hadn't noticed anything unusual.
As William sat on the bed pondering how to handle the situation, the woman lying on top of him finally woke up.
She opened her eyes, slightly confused, and looked up to see William gazing at her calmly.
The man before her was unfamiliar yet felt somewhat familiar. The scent of his body and the lingering traces of last night's debauchery filled her nostrils. As fragmented memories of the previous night surfaced, she quickly grasped the situation.
William, curious to see her reaction now that he knew she wasn't a prostitute, braced for anything—screaming, hitting, calling the police, or blackmailing him. If that happened, he wouldn't feel guilty; she could do as she pleased. If it hadn't been for him, she would have suffered at the hands of a group of men. She only had her carelessness to blame for wandering into a den of wolves.
But the woman's reaction was unexpectedly calm.
She slowly sat up, the soft morning light revealing her naked body like a sculpture of white jade, making William's breath deepen with the visual impact.
Her body bore red marks from bites and slaps, even some sticky remnants left by a man.
Unfazed, she got out of bed, completely naked, her most intimate areas easily visible.
This cold indifference made William feel a bit oppressed. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm sorry."
The woman, turning to put on her clothes, paused for a moment at his words but didn't respond or turn around, continuing to dress.
William said nothing more, feeling a heavy weight on his chest, making it hard to breathe. It had been years since he felt guilty for sleeping with a woman. In the past, women were mostly just a means to an end, not seen as fellow beings with thoughts. Suddenly, the complex guilt he felt for this woman after a night together made him wonder if he had become too relaxed, his mind going soft.
In less than five minutes, the woman was dressed and had tidied herself up enough to hide any signs of the night's events. Without a word, she walked out the door.
Seeing her leave without a word, William couldn't help but ask, "Do you know your way? Should I walk you out?"
This time, she didn't even pause, walking out and closing the door behind her.
William stared at the closed door, a bitter smile on his face. She was undoubtedly one of the best women he'd ever encountered. Just as he was about to get up, his keen ears caught the sound of a sob from the hallway...
So, she was crying after all. She just didn't want him to see or hear it. Unfortunately, she didn't know his hearing was far above average, so she couldn't hide it from him.
Thinking about how she had been holding back her tears all this time, William's guilt intensified.
After a brief tidy-up, William remembered he had to open his lamb skewer stall. Though the stall didn't make much money, he enjoyed the bustling atmosphere, watching the flow of people and the many facets of life. Money was secondary.
As he pushed his one-wheeled cart to his stall, Peter, who was already grilling sausages, smiled at him, "William, you're late today. Had a date last night?"
William thought to himself, "Not a date, but there was a bed involved." Aloud, he replied, "No, nothing like that. I just overslept."
Peter chuckled, satisfied, "My daughter Doris came home after her internship yesterday. She mentioned we should thank you, William. Without your help, we couldn't have managed her medical bills and the cost of her internship."
Peter's daughter, Doris, was their late-in-life child, cherished dearly. She had just returned after two months of an internship in another city.
William had met her twice. She was a gentle and pure beauty, but as a friend's daughter, he never had any intentions towards her.
"Well, there's no need for thanks. Just let me bum a meal if I ever run out of money," William joked.
Peter suddenly nodded, "Actually, my wife and Doris said we should invite you over for dinner to thank you properly. How about tonight?"
"This... there's no need for that. You have your own struggles, why go to the trouble of inviting me?"
Peter feigned anger, "How much trouble could one meal be? If you don't come, you're looking down on us."
Unable to argue with the stubborn old man, William reluctantly agreed, making Peter beam with joy.
Just then, a group of ruffians appeared in the market. Spotting William and Peter, the leader grinned sinisterly.