Strategy to Capture Men

Yao Chen had originally intended to tell Han Yanyan over dinner. She was a girl with a tough front but a soft heart. She wouldn’t have been exploited by her parents otherwise. She would certainly have felt miserable over being sold like a commodity by her parents.

He had planned to comfort her at dinner, let her calm down on the road, and then make his move once he had gotten her to his residence.

It wasn’t a bad plan, but she had disrupted his entire rhythm.

After reading the signed contract, the IOU and the guarantee, she never said another word. Instead, she was horribly silent.

Yao Chen’s prepared encouraging speech had gone to waste. She sat across from him in the car, looking out the window at the night view without expression. He was a little afraid that she might repress her feelings negatively. There were some strong emotions which, if not released, would eventually explode.

He couldn’t help but say something. “Actually, you’ll find that once you disregard blood relations, things will be much easier. It isn’t as painful as you think…”

Han Yanyan turned her head. In the dim belly of the car, her dark eyes looked deep and unfathomable.

Yao Chen’s words cut off as she rose, made her way onto his lap, and stopped his mouth with hers.

Caught off guard, he froze for a moment. When his confused hands finally reacted and encircled her waist, she pulled back.

“Can you shut up?” she asked.

Though she looked cold, Yao Chen’s blood was hot.

“I can.” He was smiling.

He pressed her head back down to his lips.

When the car paused at the traffic lights, the driver and the little brother in the co-pilot’s seat felt the car shaking. The rear compartment of the limo was completely closed off, and there was an isolation barrier between, so one could neither see nor hear what was going on.

But the shaking was so obvious that the two men looked at each other.

“Fuck!” said the little brother. “Are they doing it back there?”

The driver chuckled.

When the red light turns green, the driver released the brake and stepped on the accelerator. “Drive slowly, drive slowly,” said the little brother.

So the car crawled along in the slow lane. Thankfully there were few cars at night, so it wasn’t an obstruction to other drivers.

The rear compartment was damp and dark, and the glass fogged up with the heat emitted by the human body.

Han Yanyan had many memories of cars. Ding Yao liked to use sex to relieve the rush of adrenaline after a fight.

It wasn’t always possible to find a suitable camping spot. Oftentimes, their caravan could only park out in the wild, and everyone slept in their own cars.

A narrow space, damp and humid. The pounding and shaking would make the car creak, attracting two or three wandering zombies who would press themselves against the glass windows. As Han Yanyan fell apart, she would silently beg Ding Yao to get rid of the zombie onlookers. He would just laugh and do nothing.

What terrible taste in hobbies.

Han Yanyan could only climax as the zombies watched.

How boring it was back then. With no TV, no radio, no phones or computers, night-time fun was all they had. Everyone partook of it. Who knew if the next day would be their last? They seized happiness wherever it could be found.

She actually contemplated it a lot later on. How on earth had she fallen in love with Ding Yao? Look at Yao Chen. The tricks he played were more than enough to make any ordinary woman fall in love with him, but she didn’t have even a smidgen of interest.

Sure enough, she thought, it was because of the environment.

The atmosphere of the apocalypse was so special because the specter of death hung overhead every day, and one was constantly high on adrenaline. The hearts of the people were numb and empty because they had no future. Any ounce of tenderness, any little feeling of stability, was infinitely magnified.

Actually, she didn’t really love Ding Yao as much as she had thought. What she was most uncomfortable about was that he was stuck in her throat, that it was hard to let him go.

As for Yao Chen, was he Ding Yao? Was he?

Yao Chen had always felt that the word “fierce”, when it came to the affairs between men and women, was something that only applied to him. He hadn’t expected that one day he would be proven wrong.

Her fairy-like skin was peeled off, revealing her true self to be a man-eating siren. She was fierce and ruthless, as if she were about to bleed him to the bone, the better that she might ascend to immortality1.

As expected, she found her own climax. At that moment, she suddenly let go of the hand gripping the hair on his head and instead pressed down hard on his shoulder. The other arm around his neck frantically searched for support, and finally held onto the ceiling.

Yao Chen looked up at her to see her neck stretched even more slender because she was looking up. She let out a suffocated groan, and he couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure or pain. Yao Chen’s breathing suddenly became heavier, and for the first time, he felt them both in sync with each other.

One could say that they were quite compatible.

But at that joyous moment, Han Yanyan fell limply back on his shoulder. In that quiet, confined space, Yao Chen clearly heard her whisper a name.

In his ear, she murmured and cried out, “Ding Yao.”

……

Yao Chen: “……”

Fuck! ! !

It was a man’s name. It was definitely a man’s name!