She sniffled and turned around to ask: “Is your residence outside the palace ready to live in?”
“Almost.”
“How long is it almost?”
Deng Ying hesitated, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just suddenly feel a bit homesick.”
“In a few days I’ll take you out of the palace, you can go home for a visit.”
“That’s not the home I mean!”
Yang Wan pressed her lips together, desperately holding back tears. She didn’t want to expose such emotions in front of Deng Ying, but she ultimately couldn’t contain them.
Deng Ying suddenly remembered that Yang Wan had once vaguely told her she no longer had a home.
“Wan-wan.”
“…”
Yang Wan was still trying her best to calm down and didn’t respond to Deng Ying.
But Deng Ying’s wrist appeared before Yang Wan, “Take me in with you.”
“Where?”
“To your room, but don’t tell anyone or His Highness will have me beaten to death.”
Yang Wan gripped Deng Ying’s wrist, “You haven’t done anything to me, you’re just lying beside me, what right does His Highness have to beat you to death?”
“I…”
“Why won’t you do it?”
She interrupted Deng Ying, raising her head to ask again.
“Deng Ying, you felt something. When I touched your wound below, you trembled and called out to me. When I touched you, you calmed down, but you still wouldn’t…”
“Wan-wan!”
He suddenly interrupted Yang Wan as well, but his subsequent voice carried a tremor, so low it almost pained Yang Wan’s heart.
“Wan-wan, I won’t…”
How could he? How could he possibly allow himself to be like those eunuchs who tormented women, to devastate Yang Wan?
“It’s not that difficult, Deng Ying.”
Yang Wan looked into Deng Ying’s eyes, “It’s not that difficult.”
Indeed, it wasn’t that difficult.
Yang Wan’s understanding of sexuality didn’t begin with practice.
In her serious reading, the first story about sexuality she encountered was the myth about Libidotna, the goddess of pleasure.
Initially, there was no sexual pleasure in the human world, so Libidotna’s temple had no worshipers on earth, which made her very dissatisfied. So she decided to bring sexual pleasure to the human world. When the goddess of wisdom learned of this news, she rushed to dissuade her, but unexpectedly, she cast a spell on the goddess of wisdom. Thus, the rational goddess Athena removed her clothes and made love with every man she met on Mount Olympus. At this moment, goddess Libidotna let a great wind blow, scattering the seeds of pleasure to the human world. The gods on Mount Olympus were very angry about this. As punishment, goddess Libidotna was chained like Prometheus at the roadside of the hill, enduring humiliation, unable to resist.
Yang Wan didn’t like this story, but she could view it from a deconstructionist historical perspective.
Originally, sexuality was something the gods kept chained. When people possessed it, they would lose their wisdom like Athena, so after experiencing desire, they too should be locked up, accepting punishment like the goddess Libidotna. This followed the same logic as the story of “tasting the forbidden fruit.”
Yet what amazed Yang Wan was that Deng Ying’s situation had the same predicament as goddess Libidotna – chained at the roadside of the hill, enduring humiliation, unable to resist.
So much so that when he said those three words to Yang Wan – “I won’t” – he unconsciously clasped his hands together.
It was a gesture of self-bondage.
Yang Wan forcefully pried apart his clasped hands and led Deng Ying toward her quarters.
Deng Ying seemed willing to accept Yang Wan’s guidance – though like chains, it gave him redemptive comfort.
“Let me teach you, all right?”
“Teach me what?”
“Teach you how to be with me.”
Yang Wan had never thought about what it would be like to burn with desire.
Before age thirty, her physical desires were satisfied mechanically through modern technology. Her climaxes were quick and safe. Alone, removing her bra, taking off her underwear, curling up under the covers, a small pink device could send her to the clouds. So Yang Wan didn’t even feel she needed another warm body.
In the twenty-first century, every woman could enjoy climax. The meaning of “intimacy” was no longer about women waiting for men to “bestow” pleasure, but about women bravely giving and exposing themselves, then having honest conversations while pressed against the other’s skin.
Not every man was like those in love stories who could bring women Libidotna’s pleasure. Often, they were like Deng Ying, lying naked beside a woman, hesitating to wait for forgiveness due to their awkward and inadequate lovemaking.
“Deng Ying, keep your undergarments on, don’t remove them.”
After speaking, Yang Wan bent down and extinguished the last lamp. The room darkened, but Deng Ying could still see her silhouette in the window light.
She raised her arms, shed her sleeves, then reached back to undo her undershirt, then bent down to remove her lower garments.
“Deng Ying, come here, lift me onto the table.”
The redwood table surface was truly cold. When Yang Wan’s bare skin touched it, she couldn’t help but shiver.
Deng Ying hurriedly asked, “What’s wrong?”