"Old, sure, but damn, that skin's so smooth," Long Gen muttered, pulling up his pants and sneaking out of the cornfield, his voice low.
Zhao Hongyu might be older, but she had flavor. Her skin, tanned to a wheat-bran hue from long days in the sun, wasn't as pale as some, but it was soft and silky to the touch. Years of fieldwork kept her fit—no flab on that waist, just a tight, round ass that split wider with every thrust of his cock.
As the books say, fucking a woman ain't about her face. Turn off the light, pull up the covers, and you're pounding away just fine. Besides, after feasting on gourmet dishes, a bit of wild greens adds variety. Too much rich food ain't good for the gut.
Emerging from the cornfield, Long Gen timed it perfectly for Chen Xianglian's lunch. Chen Ke had gone back to the city—not to hustle at the brothel, but to look after Chen Tianming. Say what you will, the man hadn't treated their family badly over the years. Skipping a visit would've been ungrateful.
"Little Long, Brother-in-law's coming back soon. You better hide," Chen Xianglian said between bites of rice, her eyes worried. "His temper's no joke—he'll come looking for trouble."
Brother-in-law was Chen Tianyun, Chen Tianming's younger sibling.
Long Gen smirked, popping a piece of meat into his mouth, unfazed. Trouble? Chen Tianyun didn't scare him. The guy had no real power, and Long Gen hadn't even settled the score for the nine grand he'd swiped from Aunt Shen Lijuan. If Chen Tianyun didn't come looking, Long Gen would hunt him down himself.
Besides, the man's own wife had been fucked by others—what energy did he have for picking fights?
Last time he banged Wang Limei, Long Gen thought about shaking her down for cash, but held off. Their fuck-buddy arrangement wasn't solid enough yet, and he didn't want to screw it up.
"Chen Tianyun? I don't give a shit about him," Long Gen said, shrugging. "By the way, your Chen family's done for. No one's voting for you lot in the election. You and Ke are struggling, so here's the deal—vote for my Aunt. When she's village secretary, she'll look out for you. Deal?"
"No problem, I'll vote for her. Consider it a favor," Chen Xianglian agreed easily, then her eyes narrowed, fixing on him. "Little Long, you fucked your Aunt too, didn't you?"
"Trying to trap me, huh?" Long Gen grinned. "Fine, I'll tell you, but keep your mouth shut. Even if you blab, I'm not scared—I'll just pin Ke down and ram her with my cock till she's screaming."
Chen Xianglian's face darkened, a hint of jealousy flickering.
"Yeah, I fucked her. Plenty of times," Long Gen continued, noticing her sour look. "Don't get greedy. I come here twice a week, and that's more than enough for you. With your body and Ke's tight pussy, one night of me fucking you both would leave you limping for days. Believe it?"
"Pfft, acting like your dick's some magic wand," Chen Xianglian scoffed, rolling her eyes. "How many women you fucked, huh?"
Long Gen didn't answer, burying his face in his food. She was fishing for dirt, and he wasn't falling for it. Better finish eating, maybe bang her quick, and move on to the next house.
Crack, crack, crack!
A sudden burst of firecrackers startled Long Gen, his head snapping up as smoke rose in the distance. "What the hell? Who's setting off firecrackers? Ghost Festival's two days away," Chen Xianglian said, stepping out of the kitchen, frowning.
Long Gen scratched his head, puzzled. Rural folks didn't waste firecrackers unless it was a big deal—weddings, funerals, or Ghost Festival, when they burned paper money for the dead. No weddings were planned, so what was this?
"You stay here. I'm checking it out. Don't forget about the vote," Long Gen said, bolting out like a gust of wind.
The air was thick and muggy. Long Gen splashed water on his face, too rushed to bathe in the river. A few villagers ran past, their urgency signaling something big. 'Gotta hit the store first—firecrackers come from there,' He thought, sprinting to Shen Lihong's store. Panting, he grabbed an ice pop from her and chomped it down, the cold soothing his throat.
"Aunt Lihong, where's Aunt? What's with the firecrackers?" He asked, wiping his mouth.
Shen Lihong counted money from the cashbox, her voice low. "Someone died in the village. Your Aunt and Township Chief He went to check."
"Died? Who croaked?"
"Who else? Wei Wenwu. They say he killed himself out of guilt, hanged himself," She said, her face pale with fear. "Tongue sticking out long, eyes bulging like cowbells. God, it's terrifying…"
"Your aunt insisted on going, saying it's her duty. Township Chief He too—what's there to see in a corpse? I'm stuck here alone, scared shitless… Little Long, stay and watch the store with me, please, I'm freaking out…"
Long Gen's voice echoed as he ran off. "I'm gonna take a look. Be back soon!"
Shen Lihong stomped her foot, shivering despite the heat, a ghostly chill creeping up her spine. "Damn you, Wei Wenwu, causing trouble even in death!" She cursed, trying to bolster her courage.
Crack, crack, crack!
Another round of firecrackers exploded as Long Gen reached Wei Wenwu's house. He darted inside, drool pooling in his mouth. Likely because Wei Wenwu had fucked half the village's wives, few showed up to help. No close kin were around—just a handful of middle-aged men moving the coffin. Shen Lijuan and He Jingwen stood to the side, their faces ashen, brows furrowed. The death must've been gruesome.
"Aunt, what's up?" Long Gen asked, his eyes sliding to He Jingwen.
His gaze lingered on her chest, where her blouse strained over her massive tits, a deep cleavage peeking out, forming a perfect mound. He Jingwen shouldn't have been out of bed after last night's pounding, but guilt over sacking Wei Wenwu—only for him to kill himself—drove her here to assess the situation.
"He hanged himself. They're about to put him in the coffin. Little Long, don't go in—it's horrifying," Shen Lijuan said, grabbing his arm, her voice trembling.
Her own husband had died under her years ago, and she hadn't flinched, but Wei Wenwu's corpse was something else. That long tongue, those bulging eyes rolling upward—pure deathly resentment.
"Why'd he die? Why hang himself?" Long Gen pressed.
He Jingwen's brows knitted, her tone formal. "His wife said he came home last night, didn't eat, just sat in his room all night. This morning, he smoked silently, then went to the fields. When he came back, lunch was ready, but before she could call him, he'd hanged himself."
"Guilt, that's all. Conscience got him," Long Gen said, shrugging. Dead was dead—good riddance. Scumbags like him just wasted air.
"Little Long!" Shen Lijuan shot him a glare. "Don't talk like that. Respect the dead!"
Long Gen rolled his eyes, biting his tongue. Women and their bleeding hearts—making a fuss over a dead creep. Was it worth getting mad at him?
"Little Long's not wrong, but since he's gone, and we've got the facts, we won't pursue his crimes further," He Jingwen said, stepping in as township chief. "Let's go to the village office, announce it to everyone, and get the able-bodied men to help with the funeral."
Shen Lijuan nodded, agreeing.
"You go ahead. I'm taking a look," Long Gen said, fearless. His cock gave him enough yang energy to shrug off any ghosts or demons. He'd brought down a village secretary with a few fucks—what was a dead guy to him?
"Little Long, get back here!" Shen Lijuan stomped her foot, lunging for him, but he slipped away.
"That corpse is terrifying—why's he rushing toward it?" She muttered.
"Let him go," He Jingwen said, pulling her along, frowning. "Why isn't Little Long stuttering today? And he's talking sense. Doesn't seem dumb…"
Rural custom held that the dead deserved respect, no matter their sins. Despite his resentment, Niu Da had to hustle, washing and dressing his father's body. When Long Gen entered, Yang Ying, Tian Cuifen, and Wei Wenwu's wife, Miao Hong, were burning paper money by the wall. Niu Da was wiping down the corpse with a cloth.
'Tch, tch, what a ugly corpse. Tongue sticking out like that—starving or what?' Long Gen observed, unbothered. A dead man was like a slaughtered pig—chop it, bleed it, it felt nothing. Just meat turning to shit in your gut.
'Fuck, with a dick that small, he thought he could fuck women?' Long Gen's eyes flicked to Wei Wenwu's pathetic crotch, sneering. 'Wang Limei's got shit taste, falling for this loser. Fucking blind…'
After a few more curses, Long Gen backed out. Nothing worth seeing. He caught a glimpse of the three women's six heaving breasts, but with people around, he couldn't make a move. He'd come back at night.
Wandering outside, he noticed his dog, Big Yellow, hadn't returned from humping Little Flower.
Beep, beep, beep!
A silver-gray van pulled into the yard, and Wei Wu stepped out. Long Gen didn't dare flash his usual dumb grin—Wei Wu's temper could earn him a slap.
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