Chapter 4: Sensitivity

Ye Jiaying wanted to bite her lower lip, allowing that slight yet unmistakable pain to bring her back to calmness, but the words that Xiao Yong had just advised her floated up in her mind. She took a deep breath, trying her best to control herself to utter a single word: "No..."

Ye Jiaying felt that Xiao Yong's hand had once again grasped her ankle, and at that moment, her entire body jolted. She felt a sense of fear, but it was entirely different from the fear she had just experienced. However, Xiao Yong gently removed her legs from his shoulders and placed them back on the ground, resting them on her shoes.

Alright. Later, you can have Tan Weiyan find you a beautician to take care of the hair removal properly; I will only ensure that it does not affect the photoshoot. Xiao Yong's tone was not as harsh and indifferent as before, perhaps wanting to give this young girl, who had just shown great courage, a bit of encouragement. I will give you another ten minutes to prepare; we will start shooting right away... Oh, by the way

"Do not close your eyes so tightly! Hold back your tears! There is no makeup artist here to fix your eyes now," Xiao Yong said coldly. The young girl from m.hetushucom.com was indeed very alluring, but Xiao Yong was not so easily tempted. His indifferent, almost apathetic tone, however, allowed Ye Jiaying to regain a bit of confidence, beginning to feel somewhat safe.

She had not even finished uttering the word when the scorching blade had already fallen on the other side of the hill. She gasped, but the echo of her gasp merged with a moan. Xiao Yong's almost perfectly symmetrical strike felt so different to her. The blade was even hotter, its tremors more intense, and even Xiao Yong's hand felt warmer. Not just his fingers, but his palm, and even the arm that encircled her leg, which was deliberately kept at a distance yet inevitably brushed against her, was so warm.

Ye Jiaying lowered her head, her eyes opening just a slit, trying to see what was happening. What she saw was Xiao Yong kneeling in front of the beach chair, with her legs resting on his shoulders, her beautiful legs stretched out towards the sky. Xiao Yong's head was about the same height as her knees. In that moment, Ye Jiaying realized that her most secret self was completely exposed before Xiao Yong. At that moment, Xiao Yong's hands encircled her legs, bringing a rather expensive razor towards the patch of hair that only she, as a model and not an ordinary girl, would be scrutinized for. Xiao Yong's thumb pushed the clipper behind the razor, pressing the switch, and the razor emitted a "zzzz..." sound.

As the blade slid from the hills into the deep valley, Xiao Yong's hand helplessly moved forward, gently pressing between Ye Jiaying's legs, then immediately releasing. The body hair on one side had already been dealt with under this stroke. Without such a press, the blade at the richly folded edge of the shadowy valley would likely have drawn blood. In this place, drawing blood, even if he felt no guilt, remained a matter too sensitive and complex.

At the moment when Xiao Yong pressed and released, Ye Jiaying let out a soft moan, a delicate and melodious sound that was indescribably captivating. Ye Jiaying found it difficult to articulate what she was feeling; she was unsure whether it was comfort or discomfort, whether she should feel fear or anxiety, whether she ought to resist or embrace the situation. She even struggled to comment on herself due to this complex array of emotions. Was she still pure? Or had she already transformed into a wicked woman willing to resort to any means to achieve her goals? Was she truly the romantic girl she envisioned herself to be, or a potential seductress waiting to be engulfed by the tide of pleasure?

The rapidly operating clipper, carrying a slight burn from the mechanical activity, fell upon Ye Jiaying's lower abdomen, and then gradually moved downward. The clipper, with an indescribable tremor, slowly glided over the most mysterious hills, inching toward the depths of the black, enigmatic forest, towards the moonlit well that made every girl feel as vibrant as a fairy. At this moment, although her entire face was flushed with shyness and nervousness, Ye Jiaying found herself devoid of even the slightest strength to resist. The understated warmth and tremor of the metal had rendered her entire body soft and weak.

Ye Jiaying, whether experienced or at the very least, well-informed, could still realize that the scene at this moment, regardless of the two individuals involved or any onlookers—if there were any—was utterly lascivious. She immediately began to struggle with her legs, wanting to kick Xiao Yong away, wanting to stand up. However, she soon discovered that in her current position, with her legs spread in a V shape towards the sky and lying on the swaying canvas beach chair, there was no place to exert any force even to struggle. Her tension and her struggles seemed utterly futile. This realization plunged her into a state of sheer terror.

Xiao Yong covered Ye Jiaying with something that resembled a blanket, and then he turned and walked towards the factory's main door

Xiao Yongqing clearly heard Ye Jiaying's moan, yet he chose to ignore it. He asked lightly, "Did it hurt you?"

Ye Jiaying has lost count of how many times today she has directly pressed the conversion expression amidst tension and shyness. Various thoughts surged into her mind: the purpose of coming here today, the last opportunity to become a model before the college entrance examination, an opportunity finally sought under the strict watch of her mother, ... Tan Weiyan's profound admiration for the extraordinary skills and professionalism of the photographer named Xiao Yong today ... She truly quieted down. Tan Weiyan's profound admiration for the extraordinary skills and professionalism of the photographer named Xiao Yong today ... She truly quieted down

Ye Jiaying felt a warm hand grasp her ankle, gently lifting it and placing her calf on something. First the left leg, then the right leg. The place where her calf rested was slightly firm, yet still warm. Now, Ye Jiaying was so tense that her whole body felt cold, being extremely sensitive to this temperature

"Do you want to take a photo? What trouble are you trying to stir up again?" Xiao Yong's voice became stern again. "Is it fun to create wounds? Is it fun to make wounds in this place?"

Ye Jiaying was trembling all over, her mind a blank. Before Xiao Yong had even begun to act, she was already filled with regret. She had no idea how, just a moment ago, she had agreed to this.