This night.
Xu Wendong experienced the allure of a flight attendant.
The price was a ripped pair of Balenciaga underwear, though he never took off Liu Yi's clothes.
They moved from the living room to the balcony, and then to the bedroom. Despite changing several battlegrounds, they never parted.
After the passion.
Xu Wendong lay back on the pillow, smoking a post-coital cigarette, while Liu Yi, her face flushed, nestled in his arms: "From now on, you don't have to work anymore. Just live here and be my kept man!"
"There's a Mercedes G-Class in the parking lot downstairs. It's your ride from now on."
With those words, he transferred fifty million to Liu Yi via WeChat, marked as a free gift.
Nowadays.
Money to him was just a string of inconsequential numbers, and if he could use these meaningless numbers to keep a kept man, why wouldn't he?
