I liked doing *that* during stormy weather.
I even wrote an article about it specifically. The article was complex – I cited many postmodern philosophical theories, deconstructing the nature of intimacy from the perspective of textual evolution, to demonstrate the “profound” connection between the four characters for “stormy weather” and intimacy.
Unfortunately, Deng Ying couldn’t understand it. Though his knowledge in that area was no less than mine. Strangely, he was obsessed with teaching me the health principles behind it.
For instance, he said rainy days weren’t suitable for such activities. When I asked why, he pulled out his little yellow book and earnestly told me: “During stormy weather, men’s yang contracts, women’s breasts contract, and limbs grow cold, making one prone to illness. While he would be fine, it wouldn’t be good for my health there.”
“Good for where?” I wondered.
Speaking of “where,” I have much to say about that.
As everyone knows, there was no foreplay between Deng Ying and me.
Why no foreplay? Because back then, he had his fears, and I had my doubts.
At that time, he was still beside me, obsessed with the pleasure brought by “self-shame,” while I wasn’t yet capable of protecting him properly.
It’s hard to say who was saving whom under heaven’s thunder and earth’s fire.
The complexity of intimacy mirrors human complexity – different life stages bring different perspectives and methods of experiencing intimacy. As Deng Ying’s partner, mutual pleasure sounds simple but proves difficult in practice. I was inexperienced, he was a virgin. I struggled to enlighten myself before enlightening him. Unfortunately, I initially approached this from sociological and psychological perspectives, making it too theoretical and impractical. This led to our interactions being quite limited, most notably rushing straight to the main event without any prelude.
Of course, these were issues I only gradually reflected upon during the Jinghe era.
Deng Ying’s mental transformation allowed me to address these problems.
How did I know Deng Ying had changed?
It was when Song Yunqing told me about the moment Deng Ying was tied to the execution frame. When they removed his clothes, he said to those below: “Please preserve my dignity.”
I never witnessed Deng Ying’s execution ground, but I dreamed of it.
In my dreams, the scene was like a censored torture scene from television. Deng Ying remained fully clothed, just looking somewhat haggard. This was perhaps my subconscious protecting him. Though I understood feudal punishments included many humiliating elements, I didn’t want to understand and accept them as Deng Ying did.
However, in Deng Ying’s Great Ming Dynasty, I couldn’t directly ask him to resist, as that would only make his death more painful. What I hadn’t expected was that Deng Ying would eventually speak those words “Please preserve my dignity” himself.
That was wonderful.
Academically speaking, Deng Ying had completed a transformation in self-awareness.
And in terms of intimacy…
Deng Ying and I could now have foreplay.
That was truly wonderful.
In the deep autumn of the first year of Jinghe.
I did something foolish.
I accidentally sprained my hand at home and couldn’t bathe alone. During that time, the An’he Pagoda was under construction in the suburbs of the capital, and Deng Ying was invited to inspect the main beam structure, sometimes staying in the work sheds. Fearing he would make daily trips back and forth if I told him, I endured it alone for a while. Who knew it would develop into a bigger problem – even bending slightly became unbearably painful.
When Song Yunqing found out, she went to the construction site and brought Deng Ying back, scolding him before they even entered the door.
“Sir, I thought you knew, but you didn’t?”
Deng Ying spoke softly: “I haven’t been home these past days.”
Song Yunqing said: “I was wondering why she suddenly asked me to help find those story books in Hangzhou when she wanted to go herself. Today I came by and saw her arm hanging limp like it had no bones. You may be busy with construction work outside the city, but you can’t neglect her.”
The term “construction work” was something I taught Song Yunqing – it was quite amusing hearing her use it on Deng Ying.
However, at that moment, I couldn’t spare any thought for such things, as I was about to face the most mortifying moment of my life.
Song Yunqing called out while pushing the door: “Yang Wan, where are you?”
Where was I?
I was in the bathtub behind the screen! And…
I had just managed to remove all my clothes.
Not seeing me in the room, Song Yunqing didn’t come behind the screen. She put her hands on her hips and said irritably: “Yang Wan, really – going out with a sprained hand. At this time, she’s probably at the Qingbo Pavilion again.”
She turned to say: “Sir, I’ll go look for her. You should pay more attention.”
Deng Ying quickly responded: “Yes, I understand.”
Song Yunqing nodded and left.
I sat in the bathtub, watching as Deng Ying removed his outer robe, draping it over his arm as he walked behind the screen.
I gripped the edge of the tub with one hand and made a soft “eh” sound.
Deng Ying was startled and then saw me in the tub.
“You…”
I quickly interrupted him, “Why did you come back?”
Deng Ying looked at my arm hanging in the tub, trying to speak.
But he only got out “You” before I interrupted again.
“I was preparing to bathe.”
Deng Ying looked at the empty tub and said: “Then the water…”
“I had just removed my clothes when you and Song Yunqing came in. What could I do? I had to hide in the tub – hadn’t even filled it with water yet. Hey, stop looking!”