Chapter 682: The Most Sexy Stallion

Standing this close in silent confrontation, the atmosphere didn’t ease—it grew even more delicate.

Li Heng’s lip twitched; he copied the man’s posture, crossing his legs, trying hard to hide his excitement.

After staring for a while, Wang Runwen asked: “Has Shu Heng resigned?”

Li Heng nodded.

Wang Runwen asked: “When did this happen?”

Li Heng replied: “Dragon Boat Festival.”

Wang Runwen frowned: “I remember that was your birthday, wasn’t it?”

Li Heng grunted.

Wang Runwen fell into thought; after a minute or two, he asked: “Is she going to your hometown this time?”

Li Heng said: “My parents invited her back in early spring.”

Wang Runwen asked: “How long will she stay?”

Li Heng said: “Maybe a week, but it’s not confirmed—it depends on Teacher Yu’s situation.”

Wang Runwen brushed his hair aside: “What if I come along?”

Li Heng: “...”

Seeing no reply, Wang Runwen teased: “What, scared?”

Li Heng sighed, speaking slowly: “Whether I dare or not—doesn’t Teacher already know? Why ask outright?”

Wang Runwen scoffed: "A few days ago, your mother stood outside my classroom for a long time, secretly watching me. Don't you owe me an explanation?"

Li Heng said: “My mom asked about you the night before last.”

Wang Runwen pressed: “What did she ask?”

Li Heng said: “She asked about our relationship.”

Wang Runwen bit his luscious red lip, full of desire: “What did you answer?”

Li Heng answered honestly: “I said you were my teacher.”

The word “teacher” instantly snuffed out the small flame of conversation; the two stared at each other, silent.

“Knock knock knock…”

“Runwen, open up.”

Seeing this, Wang Runwen smiled, squinted, and stood to open the door.

Doctor Shen brought four dishes and three bowls of rice, plus a few bottles of beer, and complained upon entering: “This damn weather, it’s scorching. So many people eating today—I waited forever.”

Wang Runwen helped carry the dishes, set them on the coffee table, then went to the kitchen to fetch bowls and chopsticks.

All four dishes were meat-heavy, substantial—clearly expensive.

Doctor Shen washed his face, walked over, and called to Li Heng: “Li Heng, since you’ve already eaten, how about some beer?”

As Doctor Shen spoke, the English teacher had already opened a bottle of beer and handed it to him.

Li Heng didn’t refuse; he took the beer and took a big gulp—it was cold, perfect for this sweltering day.

Doctor Shen asked Li Heng: “Teacher Wang Qi and Principal Sun have both left—did Runwen tell you?”

Li Heng nodded.

Doctor Shen said: “The new principal is a weirdo—rigid, full of rules, making half the teachers complain.”

Most importantly, he once had a bitter feud with Runwen’s father—enemies, not just rivals. He’s been giving Runwen trouble ever since, and next semester, this apartment will be reclaimed by the school.”

Li Heng’s brow furrowed; he turned to the English teacher: “Is this true?”

Wang Runwen recounted an old story: “It’s an old grudge. The new principal was my mother’s childhood sweetheart, but she chose my father instead—there were many twists.”

Li Heng asked: “If it’s an old generation feud, why blame you?”

Doctor Shen interjected: “The new principal can’t have children. Word is, it’s because of something your father did years ago. So he resents Runwen.”

Li Heng froze, sensing the English teacher didn’t want to elaborate further, so he wisely dropped the subject.

He thought a moment, then asked: “Does the new principal know I’m Teacher Wang’s student?”

Doctor Shen nodded, then shook his head: “He certainly knows your teacher-student relationship. But he’s alone—no parents, no wife, no children—completely unattached. He’s a hardened bastard; he doesn’t care about any of that.”

Before Li Heng could speak again, Wang Runwen interrupted: “Come on, eat and drink. Let’s talk about something pleasant today.”

Doctor Shen kindly said: “Li Heng has only just…”

Wang Runwen cut him off again: “Ultimately, it’s my parents’ youthful mistakes. He’s been infertile his whole life—anyone would harbor resentment. Enough. Don’t mention it again.”

Doctor Shen turned to look at his friend, silent for a long while before realizing: “Are you thinking of leaving Shaoshi No.1 High?”

Wang Runwen instinctively glanced at Li Heng, raised his beer bottle, and clinked it with Doctor Shen’s: “Not certain yet—just an idea. If you miss me, come with me.”

Just as suspected—this moment confirmed Li Heng’s suspicions.

The high school English teacher had summoned him and Teacher Yu for this very reason.

Of course, leaving Shaoshi No.1 High was only the surface meaning; the true intent would only unfold tomorrow, once Teacher Yu arrived.

Thinking of this, Li Heng’s mood grew quiet, almost dreamy. He drank his beer alone, not even hearing what the English teacher and Doctor Shen were talking about.

An hour or so later, Doctor Shen left.

Li Heng asked the high school English teacher: “Do you have class this afternoon, Teacher?”

Wang Runwen said: “Final exams are tomorrow. Afternoon classes are homeroom—I don’t have a class.”

After tidying up the leftovers, she asked: “Do you have any plans today?”

Li Heng shook his head: “No.”

Wang Runwen pulled a bag from the storage room, slung it over her shoulder: “Come on, let’s go somewhere.”

Li Heng stood, followed her out the door.

Down on the first floor, the high school English teacher borrowed a bicycle from Doctor Shen and gave it to Li Heng; then the two rode westward, cycling toward the city outskirts.

After more than an hour of cycling, they stopped at the foot of a mountain. Li Heng looked up at the towering peak—something about it felt familiar. Only now did he understand the English teacher’s purpose.

She had come to pay respects to her mother.

The grave lay in a valley halfway up the mountain, far from the road, secluded. They walked a long time to reach it.

“All grown over with weeds,” Wang Runwen murmured as she arrived, then pulled a grass-cutting knife from her bag and handed it to him.

More than weeds—some stood as tall as a person. Cow dung lay nearby, and a wild rabbit had dug a burrow beside the grave—luckily, it faced away, not toward the tomb.

Li Heng understood, took the knife, and silently began cutting grass.

Seeing how skillfully he trimmed the grave clean, like a barber giving a shave, Wang Runwen asked: “Did you do farm work as a child?”

“Come on, ask me that? I grew up in the countryside—of course I did farm work. I’d often finish hauling a full load of ox grass before heading to school.” Li Heng said.

Wang Runwen glanced at him, adjusted her red-rimmed glasses with her fingertip: “Honestly, your first impression on me was pale skin, delicate features, refined—had you not been so thin, I’d have thought you came from a wealthy family.”

Li Heng said: “That’s because my mom spoiled me, and I was good at slacking off.”

The English teacher asked: “Spoiled you? Then why send you out early to cut ox grass? Isn’t that contradictory?”

Li Heng said: “Spoiled is relative—I still had to work. Besides, my second sister was brutal. Every morning she went to gather pig grass. If I stayed in bed, she’d think it unfair. And when she thought it unfair, she’d beat me first…”

Recalling his chaotic childhood—beaten twice every three days—Li Heng sighed. Those days were too painful to revisit.

Wang Runwen chuckled: “I’ve seen your second sister from afar a few times—she looked beautiful. Didn’t expect her to beat you so often. How’s your relationship now?”

Li Heng replied: “As the saying goes: ‘Beating is love, scolding is care.’ We’re okay now.”

When he finished clearing the weeds, Wang Runwen pulled three incense sticks and a box of matches from her bag, along with a thick stack of spirit money. She picked up a handful of grass, placed it before the grave, and knelt atop it: “Mom, I’ve come to see you. You always say in my dreams you’re short on money—today I’ve brought you some…”

As she murmured, she took a small pile of spirit money, lit it with a match, and placed it on the grave. Then, in many small batches, she fed the thick stack into the flames.

She dared not add too much at once—afraid of the fire getting out of control, afraid of starting a wildfire. She waited until the flames died down before adding more.

Li Heng didn’t idle either. He lit the three incense sticks, stuck them into the soil, then sat beside them, watching for sparks.

The English teacher hadn’t visited in a long time—she clearly had many things to say to her mother. She spoke to herself for over ten minutes before finally falling silent. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out a set of divination sticks.

Li Heng asked: “Teacher, you know how to divine?”

The English teacher ignored him, muttered a rapid string of words he didn’t catch, then tossed the sticks into the air.

They landed—one face up, one face down—one yin, one yang: a holy divination.

Also called the auspicious hexagram.

Staring at the sticks, the English teacher—who had just been chattering nonstop—grew still, staring blankly at the holy hexagram.

After a long silence, she looked up and beckoned Li Heng: “Come here, Li Heng. Bow three times.”

Li Heng was stunned, inwardly grumbling: This is your parent’s grave—what’s it got to do with me?

Yet he remained calm, walked over, and bowed three times with deep respect toward the grave.

Wang Runwen watched him silently. When he finished, she picked up the sticks from the ground, checked her watch, and said: “Time’s still early. Let’s wait until the incense burns out.”

She feared a mountain wind—feared the incense might cause disaster—so she wanted to wait until it fully burned.

Li Heng understood.

After all, this was deep wilderness. Aside from an old man herding cattle and sheep nearby, not a soul in sight. The ground was thick with dry leaves and branches—easily flammable.

The herder was an old man, sitting on a massive rock, playing a flute. The melody was serene, adding life to the valley.

Wang Runwen found the flute beautiful and asked: “How do you compare to him?”

Li Heng rolled his eyes: “Didn’t you read the papers? They called me a legendary music master.”

Wang Runwen brushed her hair back, smiling: “I’ve never heard you play.”

Li Heng chuckled: “Fair point. Ignorance is fearless—I’ll forgive you. But this old man really has skill. Most people couldn’t match him.”

Wang Runwen said: “He used to be from a Peking opera family. Now retired, he lives a pastoral life in his hometown.”

Li Heng was surprised, looked toward the old man three hundred meters away, and asked: “Teacher, do you know him?”

Wang Runwen said: “Yes, of course. He’s related to my mother—within five generations. When I was a child, visiting my grandmother’s home, I often heard people mention him.”

Li Heng asked, “Then why don’t you go say hello?”

Wang Run said, “It’s inconvenient. Besides, they probably don’t even recognize me.”

Wang Run didn’t explain why it was inconvenient, but Li Heng understood, so he dropped the subject.

Li Heng asked, “How far is your teacher’s maternal home from here?”

Wang Run said, “Right at the foot of the mountain.”

Li Heng turned back. “Aren’t you going to take a look?”

Wang Run chuckled, pointing to the right rear. “My grandparents’ graves are over there. So are my two uncles’. None of them are left.”

Hearing this, Li Heng wanted to ask: Since you’re here, why not pay your respects?

But he held his tongue. He couldn’t claim to fully understand this woman, but he knew her well enough to know: if she didn’t go, there was a reason.

Though the three incense sticks were thin, they burned for a full twenty-four minutes before going out.

After carefully checking that the incense and paper money posed no risk, Wang Run stood up, bag in hand. “Let’s go.”

“Alright.”

Li Heng responded and followed behind, descending the winding mountain path.

Halfway down, they found a patch of fertile wild celery and pulled up some wild scallions. The English teacher exclaimed with delight: “Wild scallions stir-fried with cured pork—my favorite dish as a child. You’re good in the kitchen; when we get home, you cook, and I’ll help you.”

Li Heng sniffed the scallions. “Get more. This looks like a lot, but it shrinks to nothing in the pan—this won’t even fill the bottom of the bowl.”

Wang Run agreed. She imitated him, using a stick to pry up more wild scallions.

Gathering wild vegetables took forty to fifty minutes. By the time they descended, the sky was already late—the sun was nearly set.

They didn’t dare delay. They mounted their bicycles and sped toward the city like the wind.

They barely made it back to No. 1 High School. Li Heng glanced at his watch: 7:28.

In half an hour, it would be dark.

Inside the house, Wang Run peeled an apple and cut half for him. “I’m a bit hungry. Eat something to fill your stomach.”

Li Heng waved it off—he wasn’t fond of apples. He’d never liked anything too soft.

Well, not that he was born that way—he still loved sucking on pink meaty bits, la la la…

Dinner was simple: cured pork with wild scallions, wild celery, and spicy-sour chicken gizzards. Three bowls set on the table, and they began drinking again.

Li Heng sighed. “Teacher, your alcohol habit’s rubbed off on me—I’m drinking with every meal now.”

Wang Run smiled. “I’m not like you, surrounded by women. I drink just to pass the time.”

Li Heng picked up his beer bottle and clinked it against hers. “No more words. Cheers.”

Wang Run glanced sideways. “Chug it?”

Li Heng couldn’t stand her look of quiet disdain. “Fine, chug it. Who am I afraid of? Let’s race—see who finishes first.”

Her plan succeeded. Wang Run’s smile widened. Her long black hair fell as she tilted her head back and drained the bottle in one gulp.

Li Heng didn’t hesitate—he downed his too.

Wang Run said, “I beat you by six seconds.”

Li Heng set down the empty bottle, conceding defeat with genuine respect. “I’m outclassed.”

As she’d said herself, the English teacher loved wild scallions with cured pork. She ate more than half the bowl.

Seeing her eat over a dozen pieces of meat, Li Heng couldn’t help asking: “Eating so much meat, Teacher—aren’t you afraid of gaining weight?”

Wang Run scowled. “Which dog’s eye told you I’m fat?”

Li Heng hurried to say, “Just precaution. Precaution.”

Wang Run stared at him for a long moment, then suddenly kicked off her sandal and placed her smooth, pale left leg across his thighs. She returned her gaze to her food and resumed eating slowly.

Caught off guard by this sudden move, Li Heng froze, stunned, staring at her, utterly speechless.

After a long silence, he asked uneasily, “Can I at least eat in peace?”

Wang Run didn’t look at him. She just smiled. “It’s not my fault it’s uncooperative.”

Hearing this irresponsible remark, Li Heng had no reply. He gently moved her leg off his lap and began eating heartily himself.

Perhaps because of the earlier contact—even through pants—the two fell into quiet silence afterward, eating and drinking without speaking.

After three bottles of beer, Wang Run set her chopsticks down. “I haven’t eaten so comfortably in ages. If I were Shu Heng, I’d tie you to the kitchen every day to cook.”

Li Heng said, “Your mindset will never make you Yu Teacher.”

“Oh?”

Wang Run let out a sarcastic “Oh,” turning her head. “What do you mean I’ll never be Yu Teacher? What’s Shu Heng like in your eyes?”

Li Heng tapped his chopsticks. “Generous. Tolerant. Thoughtful.”

Wang Run clicked her tongue. “Hmph. So you mean she lets you keep women outside? Sounds better than it sings.”

Without thinking, Li Heng snapped back: “If it were you, would you let me keep women outside?”

The moment he said it, he froze.

Wang Run froze too.

They stared at each other for a long while. Then Wang Run suddenly stretched, exposing her perfect, world-class bust directly before his eyes.

He’d just been stirred by her leg—now this. A surge of heat rushed through his blood.

Damn it—this was blatant flaunting.

Seeing his eyes wide, his gaze locked, Wang Run felt a small thrill. Then, under his stare, she rose from the table.

From a corner, she pulled out a yoga mat and laid it in the center of the living room. Without a care, she began practicing.

Beneath her half-transparent white shirt, two moonlike curves pressed against her chest—purple grapes of jade, full and round, her figure lush, curves accentuated.

Her physique was perfectly sculpted, breathtakingly beautiful, blazing like fire.

Li Heng’s gaze lingered on her prominent chest, then drifted lower—over her taut abdomen, her round, lifted buttocks. At this moment, every inch of the English teacher’s skin radiated intense sexual allure. He was instantly aroused, his pulse pounding, silently gulping down several breaths.

Unintentionally, Wang Run glanced back at him. A hint of triumph lingered in her brow. Then, playfully, she asked: “I twisted my waist a while back. Can you massage?”

Li Heng took a sip of beer, suppressing his inner stirrings. His voice hoarse, he asked: “When did you start practicing yoga?”

Wang Run replied: “I practiced with Shu Heng during college. Stopped for a while, then picked it up again last year. What do you think of my form?”

Li Heng looked at the dishes on the table. “Good.”

Wang Run pressed: “How good is ‘good’? When did your drool start dripping?”