The Lost Garden by Ang Li

Author:Ang Li
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LCO004010, Literary Collections/Asian/Chinese, FIC019000, Fiction/Literary
Publisher: Columbia University Press
Published: 2015-11-24T05:00:00+00:00

Yinghong knew that Xigeng was besotted with anything refined and luxurious, partly because he had good taste, and partly because he understood that the greatest refinement and elegance meant something that could not be bought at any price.

She had let him touch her, little by little and only her arms, head, behind her ears and lips, all places usually not covered by clothes. When she decided to allow his hand under her clothes, she picked out satin underwear that had been washed once only to soften the fabric. The underwear had been called chemises before she grew into a woman, she recalled.

He had an 18,000-square-foot penthouse apartment that came with a living room decorated by a designer in the French style of pastel blue and lilac, and, yes, intersected with gray. It was in this room that she seduced him, though she made sure that he took the initiative of putting his hand under her clothes. She let him unbutton her blouse but would only allow him to touch her shoulders.

What was exposed was her white satin chemise, whose fabric was soft but thick enough to reveal nothing. She had made sure of that, and was certain he would not see anything, except for the lacy trim around the neck. To be sure, the eyelets on the lacy trim would betray her by revealing a bit of décolletage, and he could get a glimpse of her breasts. But would he see everything? No. She needn’t worry; the dense satin fabric was the ideal cover-up. No one, not even an experienced man like him, could detect anything by simply looking.

She knew that he retained a degree of deference toward her; in fact he was even a bit in awe of her. He held himself back for the time being and acted decorously, because she came from the Lucheng Zhu family, and because the large amount of delicate lace decorating the fine satin underwear created a lavish impression. It was never her intention to give in to him, not yet, so at this stage she had only planned to let him see part of her body, along with her beautiful, lacy underwear. The trim wasn’t handmade and not all that expensive, but she was certain that he had yet to learn, or might never learn, to tell handmade lace from one made by machine.

Under his gaze, she lowered her head bashfully, but let him gaze at her and her underwear. Naturally she had to stop his advances every once in a while. What went through her mind was how, given her current financial situation, she still could not afford underwear with real handmade lace, the chemise from her childhood.

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