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Emotional anecdotes, the sexual encounters of students on the way to private school.....

author:Shunhua story anecdotes

During the Xianfeng period of the Qing Dynasty, in a remote small mountain village, a young scholar happened to have a sexual encounter on the way to private school...

During the Xianfeng period of the Qing Dynasty, in a small mountain village in the south, there were about 30 households living here, and their ancestors were all Zhuang households facing the loess and facing the sky. Among them, there is a Wu surname family, because of the meticulous calculation, diligent and thrifty family, over the years, but also purchased more than ten acres of thin land, slightly more surplus than the surrounding people's homes, in ancient times are popular "everything is inferior, only the reading is high", this Wu surname is no exception. The whole family pinned their hopes on their fourteen-year-old youngest son, Wu Shaolin, who was able to read and write. The whole family saved money to send him to a private school about twenty miles from the village to study.

The children in the mountains have been able to bear hardships and stand hard work since childhood, and every day they get up early and come late in the dark, walking back and forth for more than forty miles of mountain roads, and helping their families sow seedlings and autumn harvests during the busy seasons of farming. After several cold and summer exchanges, he has cultivated a strong and burly figure, and Wu Shaolin, who is eighteen years old, is tall and elegant, and bold with shyness. Although his appearance is not as good as Pan An,he is also a beautiful man with clear eyebrows and good looks.

The village where Wu Shaolin lived to the place where he went to the private school had to pass through several larger villages. One of them is called Xiangjiazhuang, which is many times larger than the village where Wu Shaolin lives, and the terrain is flat, and the good fields are even more invisible. Zhuang Shang lived in a section of the surname of the big member, the family has a thousand acres of good land, a deep mansion compound, carved beams and paintings, dozens of slaves, a pair of children under the knees. The little girl is seventeen years old, with clear eyebrows, graceful and colorful, white and red face can be broken, as if the eyes that can talk are swaying in autumn, and the right cherry mouth is more loved, like the lotus flowers out of the water, so beautiful and moving, so beautiful and delicious, so intimidating. And intelligent and capable, embroidery, paper cutting and other female workers are proficient. In ancient times, Miss Qianjin of a wealthy family was a person who could not leave the house, and the respect was that men and women could not be clearly taught and could not have contact with men, especially young men, who could only do embroidery work in the boudoir all day, so they often felt boring and boring.

On an early autumn morning, the breeze casually flicked the doors and windows of the second floor, and the warm first sun shone on Ling Luowei, waking Miss Xiang, who had been tired from embroidery last night, from her sleep, and she stretched out her waist sadly and summoned Yahuan to come and wait. Sitting in front of the dresser, the person in the mirror is like a peach blossom, gorgeous and moving. Every smile gave birth to ten thousand kinds of tenderness, and the mood was unconsciously cheerful for no reason, so he asked yakuza to push the window to open the door. Take the beard to the corridor outside the embroidery room, look at the scenery in the distance and the pedestrians downstairs, to pass the lonely time.

At this moment, I saw that on the main road leading downstairs to the distance, from far and near, a burly young scholar came, carrying a book box, and passed downstairs with a steady and brisk pace. Looking at it, suddenly the young girl gave birth to an inexplicable, indescribable sentiment, rippled in the depths of the soul, the heart suddenly accelerated the frequency of beating, the already gorgeous peach blossom face, more rosy, but also more charming, the clever and sharp close to the body has long seen all this in the eyes, but also knows the heart of Miss Chukai.

It was night, and it was difficult to sleep with the young lady, and his mind was full of the shadow of the burly teenager, sometimes smiling secretly, sometimes locking his eyebrows, and sometimes sighing softly! How can all this escape the snuggly man who sleeps in the next bed? If you get up and whisper to the young lady, so that the beautiful teenager obediently goes upstairs to have a private meeting with the young lady, both of them will smile heartily.

The next day the young lady and the lady had laid out all the tools used for the embroiderer in the corridor early, embroidered the dress, and waited for the student to pass downstairs. Not long after, the student had just walked downstairs to the embroidery building, and the young lady inadvertently lost a handful of flower paper folding fans that the young lady usually used (the actual one was deliberate), so she quickly exclaimed: "Hey! This scholar, I accidentally lost my lady's flower fan, please send it to me? The scholar looked up and saw the beautiful lady of heavenly immortality, full of peach blossoms, eyebrows, as if smiling, immediately feeling excited, blood boiling, but also felt that he was a person who read books, how could he have the idea of non-part? How can you steal from others? So politely and quickly replied, "Okay," he tied a small stone to a stacked fan with a rope, threw it upstairs with force, and continued to hurry without turning his head.

The next day, the young lady and the lady were embroidering in the corridor, and when the student had just arrived downstairs, the young lady threw down the small scissors again. The same pretended to be panicked and helpless, asking the student to send a small embroidered scissors up, the student still tied the scissors with stone and threw it to the second floor.

On the third day, when the scholar passed downstairs again, the scholar dropped the snow-white silk thread again, and asked the scholar to send it up, and the scholar was dumbfounded and wanted to tie the silk thread to the stone and throw it up, at this time, he saw the scholar hurriedly stop him, "You nerd, the silk thread is soft and snow-white, how can you tie it to the dirty stone?" You are not afraid of my lady scolding, I am still afraid of it" or please send it personally, when the student is in a dilemma, the student said, "Please wait a moment", after a while of kung fu, I saw the student open the side door of the backyard wall, led the student upstairs to go upstairs to have a private meeting with the lady, dry firewood met the fire, all in silence...

In the blink of an eye, it was the Mid-Autumn Festival, and the scholar took the young lady's head and said softly, "It is the season of harvesting rice, and if you want to help your family with the autumn harvest at home, it may take ten and a half days to meet and read with you, I really can't bear to leave you!" The young lady also scolded, "There are only ten days and a half months, you can go with confidence, remember to bring me some autumn fish when you come back" The student replied, "Definitely, definitely." Soon half a month has arrived, the student has long been tired to the bone is about to fall apart, completely forgot to take the autumn fish, he went to the private meeting with the miss as usual, after a discussion with the miss Wushan Yunyu, the miss asked "Wu Lang, what about the autumn fish you brought", the student replied, "Oh, because the family is too tired and too busy to forget" Miss sullen after listening, the next day when the scholar passed the embroidery building, the lady's close maid was no longer seen, and the small door in the natural backyard would never open again!

Wu Shaolin no longer had the heart to read, because of thoughts and guilt and tea and dinner did not think, slowly fell ill in bed, his parents looked for langzhong everywhere for him to no avail, weak, this day he braced himself to the desk and slowly wrote a desperate poem weakly:

One thrown fan and two thrown knives,

Three threads of silk to intersect.

Good grace within the red lotus,

Only for the autumn fish hatchback throw!

After writing it, I sadly, blamed myself, and regretted it forever.

Original story