The Great Writer on the High Ridge Always Wants to Flirt with Me

The first time Bu Luo saw Lian Jingqi was at a homestay in Chawan. On the open-air balcony in the depths of winter, a woman lounged in a white cushioned chair—barefoot, shoulders exposed, a black butterfly tattooed beneath her left collarbone. She wore a deep blue strapless dress, velvet in texture, exuding elegance and grace. Her curvaceous figure was accentuated, her long legs crossed naturally, full yet taut—both alluring and sensual. The cold wind played with her hair, each strand tugging at Bu Luo’s heartstrings. "Put the flowers in the bedroom, and remember to lock the door when you leave," Lian Jingqi said, holding a slender cigarette between her fingers, her voice cool an...