The numbers on the remote control kept going up.

The wheels rolled over the asphalt, the bustling city never empty. Cars flanked them, squeezing them into the flow, forcing them forward.

Xu Fengluan’s hand slid over the leather steering wheel, her knuckles white, her impatience sharpening her edges.

In the rearview mirror, her face was unchanged. Since that rainy day, a persistent gloom had settled over her, like a deep, bottomless pool where fallen leaves drifted to the edges.

Yet, something felt different.

Her emotions burned, her green eyes fixed ahead with a hint of manic obsession. Her peripheral vision darted to the side, the steering wheel’s leather damp with sweat.

As the red light flared, the traffic stalled again.

Xu stared forward, her hand gripping the remote, nudging the display from one to two, like opening Pandora’s box.

The woman beside her reacted noticeably, clutching the seatbelt. Her slender wrist, nearly translucent in the sunlight, seemed ethereal, ungraspable, yet her fingertips flushed red, matching the blush on her earlobes, dyed by the same emotion.

Her tightly pressed legs shifted restlessly under the skirt, the hem riding up.

In this moment, Xu’s mind wandered.

She recalled why she loved motorcycles.

Their first ride was with Kuang Ye. She couldn’t remember what sparked it, only that Chu Cheng and Ji Lunan, long envious, thought riding was cool, a magnet for attention. They pestered Kuang Ye to teach them, but delays always got in the way until that day.

Xu was just tagging along.

Seeing her downcast, the trio dragged her out to lift her spirits.

But it was Xu who clung to the bike, riding lap after lap.

She remembered that day’s feeling. The weather wasn’t great, overcast with dense clouds, the wind slicing her limbs like fine blades, pain prickling densely.

Xu ignored it. The relentless flood of memories was blocked, her focus shifting to the handlebars, engine, and fuel tank. Accelerating, teetering on danger’s edge, her mind went blank. In that liminal space between life and death, she felt a shameful flicker of freedom.

Now, she couldn’t even drive with focus, always wanting to glance aside.

She could pull over somewhere secluded for the same effect.

But Xu refused, as if it were self-inflicted torment, pushing herself and Liu Tingsong to the brink, indulgence laced with restraint.

Liu’s breathing grew erratic, her lips parting without forming words, only faint, muddled sounds escaping.

Those restrained, pleading tones slipped out in her loss of control.

It reminded Xu of earlier, when Liu pressed that maddening object into her palm, her tender, inviting eyes luring Xu to the edge of danger.

Today, Liu dressed softly—a cotton-linen white skirt, minimal accessories, even nude sheepskin flats—gentle enough to embrace anything, even crying under teasing, yet still holding you, whispering *good girl* with boundless warmth.

The string of Xu’s anger snapped. Liu’s slender hand tugged the skirt, both enduring and aiding Xu.

The packet of sticky liquid was discarded, the object now slick, nearly slipping from Xu’s fingers. It took effort to keep it in place…

The red light trapping them finally changed.

The engine roared, heading straight for the suburbs.

The speed climbed unconsciously, flirting with violation before being reined in, again and again.

At the next light, Xu turned on music, random tracks she didn’t recognize.

It was late afternoon, the warm sun slanting west, traffic growing denser. But Xu and Liu moved against the flow, unhindered.

Through the overpass, they descended into clusters of old buildings.

Somehow, the remote’s display hit four. Even with music, the faint hum of the device was audible, mixed with a trace of liquid.

That sticky sound, despite suppression, leaked from Liu’s lips. Her rubbing thighs reddened, the seat damp. The air conditioning, always on, failed as sweat beaded.

Her hand, clutching the seatbelt, loosened, reaching for Xu’s sleeve but hesitating, afraid to distract her, forcing it back.

Her breathing grew heavier, the sensation overwhelming.

The shifting rhythm pressed her most sensitive spot, pulling her into a chasm of desire. But opening her eyes, the world was bright, the driver beside her tight-lipped, faintly irritable, showing no sign of surrender, snapping Liu awake.

One side fell, the other clung to reason, torn between the two.

It was maddening.

Her waist, under the fabric, rose and fell, sensations stacking, nearing a breaking point. But the next second, everything stopped, the feeling stripped away, like reaching for a cup only to find it empty. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Liu glanced at Xu, who remained composed, as if she hadn’t just turned off the remote at its peak.

The white fabric showed every stain, water spreading, clinging to her porcelain skin.

At some point, the buildings gave way to low fields of wheat, swaying in the breeze.

As days passed, clouds parted, revealing an orange-red sun. Liu glanced at the display, realizing it was evening. They’d driven for an hour, teetering on the edge repeatedly.

Even though she started it, Liu couldn’t help glaring at Xu—not fiercely, her flushed fingertips and earlobes spreading a soft, rosy hue. Her once cool, proud demeanor turned pitiable, her glare more like a sulky pout.

But Xu showed no guilt. Her indulged mischief grew uncontrollable, as if itching to confess her flaws.

With a press, the display jumped from zero to one, the buzzing mixed with liquid sounds resuming.

Liu, just relaxed, was caught again, crumpling the seatbelt.

Xu remained unmoved, her thumb pressing buttons randomly, unpredictable as the car’s speed.

The music continued, Liu catching lyrics despite herself.

“Beg me,”

“Cry me.”

Drums dictated the rhythm, oppressive, like a woman in heels grinding on a captive’s spine, demanding submission.

“Baby,” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

“No one but me can leave you scars,”

“Beauty, yea lately,”

“Your body is sexier to touch, oh.”

The remote’s number climbed again, repeated suppression lowering her threshold, making release possible with a touch.

But Xu wouldn’t allow it, holding control, refusing Liu comfort or indifference, demanding her focus.

A sharp turn veered onto a small road. The suburb’s trees, not fully shed, formed a thick, unmanaged carpet. The wheels kicked up leaves.

Xu navigated expertly, speeding up, winding roads feeling effortless.

But Liu suffered, enduring one torment wasn’t enough; the speed pinned her to the seat.

“Take take take it slow, keep your eyes on me now,” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

“Take take take it off, on your position now,”

“Don’t don’t don’t you know, we’ve got a whole night long to.”

The song, like a psychological cue, deepened the torment through sound and touch.

The seatbelt finally came loose. Liu grabbed Xu’s arm, her dry lips parting, trying to speak but managing only a faint, cat-like whimper. Tears gathered at her eyes, sliding down her cheeks.

“See the dusk till dawn, hear your voice is getting sweet and hoarse,”

“Say say say my name, to hell and paradise when.”

The dashboard and remote’s numbers soared, speed spiraling out of control.

Rounding a sharp curve, the car tilted, both leaning. Liu’s arm brushed Xu’s, clinging greedily, refusing to let go.

The seat was soaked, water dripping along its grooves.

Tree branches hit the window, slipping through a small gap, scattering yellowed leaves.

The sensation stretched, leaping from one peak to another, endless.

“Slow, high, middle, breath,”

“Shape the tempo for us.”

The song grew bolder, lyrics echoing Liu’s unfulfilled longing.

Faster, faster still.

The distant sky burned red, the mountain breeze cooling, whistling past.

The remote hit its maximum, the buzzing and liquid sounds unmistakable.

The seatbelt couldn’t hold her. Her arched waist trembled, shaking uncontrollably.

Like ants burrowing into her bones, gnawing her flesh, her tremors quenched nothing, only fueling deeper dissatisfaction, even building resistance.

Until branches parted, leaves scattered behind, the sky, freed from tree cover, revealed blazing clouds.

Radiant light poured into their eyes. The car screeched to a halt, tires screaming.

Liu lurched forward, her soul yanked free, her body weightless, wrapped in clouds. Her mind emptied, incapable of thought or care.

*—Click.*

The seatbelt snapped free, the seat reclining sharply.

Xu tossed the remote, leaning over.

The long buildup ended, reason burned away like the sunset, plunging into desire’s abyss.

In a daze, Liu seemed to say something, but it dissolved into fragmented sobs.

A faint crescent moon rose on the horizon.