Chapter 028: The Dominant Aura of Black Lace

At that moment, Pei Yao happened to come out carrying a plate of stir-fried pork. Hearing Xiaoyu’s words, she couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to pinch his cheek as she said, “Calling yourself a real man and still using ‘yours truly’ so much—say that again and I’ll hit you!”

Xiaoyu, far from being a “real man,” closed his mouth, his face so aggrieved that it tugged at the heartstrings. He was lucky to be male; otherwise, even Li Huan would be moved to pity by his demeanor!

The dishes were soon brought to the table. Although not particularly sumptuous, with the cooked food Li Gang had brought earlier, it was more than enough for everyone to enjoy a hearty meal. During dinner, Pei Yao and Su Dieyi chatted happily together, neither joining in Li Huan’s conversation with his friends, and even made plans to go shopping together that weekend!

After the meal, Su Dieyi had to go to class and Pei Yao wanted to shop. Xiaoyu, though reluctant, couldn’t resist Pei Yao’s gentle assertiveness and had no choice but to accompany her. As for Li Gang, he was even less inclined to stay with Li Huan, claiming he’d arranged to meet a WeChat hookup for an outdoor tryst in the park, and left with Xiaoyu and the others.

Li Huan was content to enjoy his own company. Returning to his room, he turned on the computer, searched for the latest pirated film, and lay on the bed to watch. Before he was halfway through, he was sound asleep, showing no respect at all for the hard work of the filmmakers!

By the first semester of his senior year, Li Huan’s life had become leisurely. He’d given up the chance for guaranteed admission to graduate school and no longer needed to frantically study every day. More often, his thoughts turned toward planning his future—whether to return home or stay and fight for a place in this city, a choice that had often left him conflicted. Now, he faced another crossroads, and this time, there would be no retreat.

Stay, or leave. There was no middle ground—only one or the other.

The afternoon passed quickly, and by the time Li Huan awoke, it was already six or seven o’clock. Stepping out of his room, he saw Su Dieyi cooking in the kitchen, with two plates of appetizing dishes already set out on the table.

He pinched a piece of meat and popped it into his mouth; not greasy or oily, the flavor was quite good. His appetite stirred, Li Huan didn’t bother with chopsticks, instead picking up pieces by hand. Soon, however, Su Dieyi spotted him from the kitchen.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Do you not care about hygiene?” Su Dieyi brought out two bowls of porridge, saw Li Huan sneakily eating, and frowned, tapping his wrist with her chopsticks.

“Heh heh!” Li Huan laughed sheepishly, not daring to retort. If not for Su Dieyi, he’d have trouble even eating.

“After dinner, you’re washing the dishes!” Su Dieyi shot him a glare, her tone sharp.

“Ouch, my hand hurts. If only someone would feed me!” Li Huan’s hand was wrapped in gauze; his wound still hadn’t fully healed, and he could only hold chopsticks between his thumb and forefinger, making things awkward. “Little Su Su, give me a hand?”

“Drop dead! Call me ‘Little Su Su’ again and I’ll chop you!” Su Dieyi flushed with embarrassment at the nickname. She moved suddenly, stretching a leg out from under the table and raising it high, her toes tapping Li Huan’s forehead, exuding an air of dominance that made even a perfect split look unimpressive by comparison.

Black, and lacy.

Li Huan stared, dumbfounded. Su Dieyi was wearing only shorts, and as she lifted her leg, a corner of her underwear was revealed—not obvious, but Li Huan, ever attentive to detail, noticed it nonetheless. Instantly, his composure was shattered.

Luckily, the table separated them, so Su Dieyi couldn’t see what was happening below. Li Huan pretended nothing had happened, picking up his chopsticks and eating his dinner slowly.

Truth be told, Li Huan was no expert at courting women; his encounters with Su Dieyi had been only occasional. If not for the farcical incident where Su Dieyi saw his bare backside, perhaps their lives would have continued with minimal intersection, both in work and daily routine.

Yet life rarely follows a predictable path. Coincidence reigns, as evident in their shared meal that evening—a scenario neither would have imagined even the day before.

Li Huan considered striking up conversation, but Su Dieyi ate with such concentration that he quietly abandoned the idea, unwilling to waste his meager flirting skills at the dinner table.

Dishwashing, naturally, fell to Su Dieyi. Li Huan’s hand couldn’t touch water, lest it become inflamed, so he idly sat on the sofa, watching TV and admiring Su Dieyi’s graceful figure as she moved about the kitchen.

Watching a beautiful woman bustle about was indeed a delight. When she bent over, her shapely hips rose invitingly; when she stretched, her full, round chest was accentuated. For any man, these moments were gifts from the heavens.

Once the kitchen was tidied, Su Dieyi returned to her room and emerged with a few garments, heading for the bathroom where a shared washing machine stood. Yet she preferred hand-washing, which was more thorough and hygienic—especially for a woman’s intimate wear. She certainly didn’t want her underwear cleaned in the same machine used by men who threw everything in, shoes included.

Li Huan, on the other hand, favored convenience. Socks and underwear aside, everything else went in the washing machine—even sneakers, which he’d spin for a quick clean. For someone too lazy to wash his own underwear, this invention was a godsend.

Seeing Su Dieyi enter the bathroom, Li Huan suddenly remembered something. He hurried to his bedroom, gathered his pile of clothes, and headed for the bathroom, pushing the door open.

“Ah! What are you doing in here?” Su Dieyi, mid-rinse with a pair of black panties, was startled by Li Huan’s sudden entrance. She hastily hid her underwear behind her back, scooped up a handful of suds from the washbasin, and hurled it at him, her voice flustered and angry: “You pervert! Get out, you creep!”

“Uh! Is that really necessary? You’re not showering, and besides, you didn’t even close the door!” Li Huan dodged, but the suds had a wide reach; some landed on his face.

He wiped off the foam, feeling a strange thrill. It was the soap from Su Dieyi’s underwear—she’d thrown it at him. Wasn’t that a bit too stimulating?

Su Dieyi, shaken but unharmed, calmed herself. Thankfully, she hadn’t been showering; otherwise, this scoundrel would have seen everything. Her thoughts turned to the panties in her hand, and when she glanced at Li Huan’s face, she blushed furiously.

Just below the corner of Li Huan’s mouth, a tiny blot of foam remained. Unaware, he hadn’t wiped it off.

Su Dieyi was so mortified she couldn’t raise her head, never having encountered such a situation. It felt as though her intimate garment, worn next to her skin, had been defiled by Li Huan.

“Would you mind washing my clothes? Next month, I’ll wash yours,” Li Huan asked shamelessly, placing his clothes on the nearby rack without waiting for her consent.

“Who said you could leave them? Dream on!” Su Dieyi’s ears were burning red as she rebuffed him without looking up.

“Mmm, the detergent smells really nice—just like you,” Li Huan said, then dashed out, even closing the bathroom door behind him.

“Mind your own business…” Su Dieyi pouted, suddenly sensing something off about Li Huan’s remark. Had he seen her washing her panties? Otherwise, why would he say that? If he’d seen and still said it, then it was clearly an act of flirtatious mischief! The scent of the detergent was the scent of her underwear, and the underwear carried her own bodily fragrance…

At this thought, Su Dieyi, already flustered, was incensed. She kicked Li Huan’s clothes off the rack and cursed, “Li Huan, you filthy scoundrel, go to hell!”

“This one needs washing too!” Just as her words fell, a hand reached in through the bathroom door and tossed a T-shirt onto the rack, before making a hasty retreat.

Back in his room, Li Huan pulled out the underwear from beneath his pillow. Seeing the stains, he shook his head, grateful he hadn’t brought those for Su Dieyi to wash. Otherwise, the long-legged beauty would have unleashed her fury and, perhaps, destroyed him utterly.

He’d barely lain down when his phone rang. Li Huan glanced at the caller ID—a chubby face, labeled “Fatso.” Smiling, he answered, “Hey, Fatso, out of money again?”

“Could you not start every call so crudely?” came a magnetic baritone from the other end. The voice was captivating, but if you saw the face behind it, you’d realize the world was fair after all.

“Did you read my email? The seminar’s the day after tomorrow—are you coming?” Fatso’s tone turned serious; he knew the seminar was a big deal, an important opportunity for soon-to-be graduates.

“Yeah, I’ll go. Can’t work at the bar forever.” Li Huan’s bond with Fatso was the strongest in school, largely because Fatso shamelessly tagged along for meals.

“I’ll save you a seat!” Fatso agreed cheerily, then lowered his voice conspiratorially: “By the way, bring a few bar girls for me, will you? I’ll owe you my first time, no red envelope required!”

“Get lost!” Li Huan hung up decisively. Aside from serious matters, Fatso was never serious—a truly incorrigible character, and the most shameless fat man Li Huan had ever known.