Chapter Seventy-Five: Peeking! Damn it! My blood is surging too fiercely

“Oh my, Aunt Qin, why are you still wearing your pants? Take them off, take them off, and remove your thermal underwear too. Isn’t there a changing room over there with swimsuits? Yes, yes, that one—hurry up! It’s so comfortable here!” Leng Nini waved her hands at Su Qin, who stood wrapped up by the door, cheeks flushed, pointing here and there, anxious as she watched Su Qin stand there dumbfounded.

“Nini, is there anything else—any other swimsuits?” After fumbling for ages, Su Qin finally found the wardrobe Nini mentioned. But after rummaging through it, aside from a scandalously revealing swimsuit, there was nothing else. Holding a relatively conservative one-piece, Su Qin asked timidly, her voice barely audible, tinged with the coyness of a married woman.

Apart from the one-piece in her hand, the rest were undeniably the kind that seemed designed to expose every possible inch—super minimal three-piece swimsuits. Pink, rose, spotted like plum blossoms, and even one transparent suit that dropped to the floor at a glance. Staring at this wardrobe, a veritable kingdom of swimwear, Su Qin had no choice but to clutch the one-piece she’d dug up and head toward the changing room.

“Hey, Sister Qiqi, why aren’t you out yet?” Leng Nini looked left and right, puzzled that Zhang Qiqi hadn’t appeared. “Sister Qiqi, what’s taking so long? Isn’t it just a pink, low-cut swimsuit? Why so fussy? Do you need help?” she called out, her mouth unfiltered and reckless. This girl seemed to revel in making things awkward. When Zhang Qiqi didn’t answer, Nini, anxious, ran out of the pool.

Splashing out, Nini’s lovely figure was fully revealed. If Lin Yang were here, he’d probably blurt out “exhibitionist!” and stare, stunned, maybe even spitting blood in shock.

Petite yet astonishingly well-endowed, her clothes had never given away the fullness she now displayed. Wearing a three-piece bikini, nearly seventy percent of her creamy chest was exposed, her dainty frame only making her curves seem larger. She’d chosen a cute bikini; only the two rosy tips were covered, leaving the snowy, rounded halves almost bare. Even more striking, the two prominent spots on her chest were adorned with cat eyes, inviting endless imagination.

Her equally adorable bikini bottoms hugged her round, pert hips, accentuating a perfect curve. On her backside, a large Mickey Mouse face played different expressions as she moved, utterly enchanting.

Her legs weren’t long, but they were slender, and with her petite frame, she had a golden ratio—curves and lines in all the right places. Were it not for her height, she could easily claim the crown of a model queen.

Beautiful—transcendent, dazzling, bubbling with charm.

Her damp hair hung unceremoniously over her fragrant shoulders as she climbed out, slipping her feet into pink cartoon sandals and heading straight for the changing room Su Qin had entered. Had she looked up, she’d see the bold red sign above the door.

‘Women’—so obvious, denoting a ladies’ changing room.

She pushed open the door, eyes widening even though she knew Zhang Qiqi’s figure was impressive. Seeing it without the cloak of clothing distorted her expectations, and Nini, who thought herself well-shaped, suddenly felt inferior.

Zhang Qiqi, inheriting her mother’s celestial beauty and her father’s statuesque height, was the perfect blend of her parents’ best traits. Nearly one meter seventy, towering above Nini by almost ten centimeters—a world of difference for women. Standing next to Qiqi, Nini appeared even smaller.

Qiqi wore a pink, plum-spotted two-piece swimsuit that used less fabric than an ordinary bra. Her exposed skin rivaled Nini’s, not because she enjoyed revealing herself, but because the wardrobe offered only the boldest options. She’d spent ages just to find one with a bit more coverage.

Her figure was renowned, but seeing it unveiled was another matter. Slender, yet endowed with formidable curves—her 36D bust could humble any normal man, save those with odd preferences or severe deficiencies.

When Nini entered, the two women changing inside tensed for a moment, then relaxed when they saw it was her.

Nini’s gaze locked shamelessly onto Qiqi’s ample chest, drooling and swooning, making Qiqi’s cheeks flush fiery red, the blush creeping down her neck and contrasting with her snowy curves—enough to mesmerize anyone.

“Nini, why did you barge in? I thought it was a man and almost died of fright.” Half hiding her face, Qiqi bashfully shifted the subject.

She was clever, knowing how to adapt—though still a girl, a flower yet to be fully bloomed, waiting for someone with the right touch.

“It’s been twenty minutes and you still haven’t come out. I called but you didn’t answer—I thought something had happened to you two! I was worried for nothing, see, I didn’t even dry off, just rushed in here,” Nini pouted, feeling wronged to be left alone in the pool while the other two dawdled.

“Alright, alright, let’s go! Enough surprises, you nearly scared me to death,” Qiqi laughed, pinching Nini’s cheek and pulling her toward the exit.

“Hmph, Sister Qiqi, you took advantage of me! I’ll remember this, and I always get my revenge,” Nini smirked mischievously, her lips curled in a sly grin.

Before she finished speaking, Qiqi let out a strange scream—Nini had pounced, attacking Qiqi’s much larger chest. No wonder Qiqi cried out.

“You little rascal, asking for trouble!” Qiqi protested. Her long-guarded dignity had been claimed by a girl she’d only met an hour ago—how outrageous. She retaliated, reaching for Nini’s armpit.

The two tangled together, launching into a playful scuffle.

Girls' greatest weakness is tickling, and with Qiqi’s height and longer arms, she easily gained the upper hand. After a brief struggle, Nini conceded, pleading for mercy.

Once they separated, breathless and ready to leave, they finally noticed Su Qin, who stood awkwardly nearby.

“Aunt Qin, what’s wrong? Doesn’t it fit? If it’s too small, just change!” Nini prompted, puzzled—she’d planned to play water games with the two, but they’d taken so long.

“Yes, Mom, if it doesn’t fit, get another one,” Qiqi echoed, noticing Su Qin’s uneasy expression.

That only made Su Qin blush deeper, twisting shyly, unable to utter a word.

“What’s the matter, Mom? Say something!” Qiqi urged, stomping in frustration.

Just as Su Qin was about to cry, a discordant voice floated in.

“Hey, where did you all go? Damn, it’s been so long! Anyone would think you’d been kidnapped,” Lin Yang called out, feigning annoyance. Without giving the three women a chance to respond, he continued, “Hey, come out! Are you there? If not, I’m coming in! Oh, there’s an indoor pool here—I’d forgotten with all the busyness. Perfect, I’ll take a bath, have a swim, and relax.”

The sound of clothes being ripped off, a splash—Lin Yang dove straight into the pool.

He truly was infuriating, ignoring the three women in the changing room, delighting in his solo swim and muttering about how comfortable it was.

“Oh no! Brother Lin the wolf is in here—what do we do? I’m wearing so little, he’ll see everything! Sister Qiqi, you go out first and distract him, okay?” Nini turned pitiably to Qiqi, cheeks red, her words reckless as usual. She clutched her exposed chest, squeezing in beside Qiqi at the door.

Though Nini’s voice was soft, Lin Yang’s hearing rivaled a bat’s—her shy lament reached him word for word. He chuckled slyly, surfaced with a bubble, and quietly tiptoed toward the ladies’ changing room.

They say peeking is a thrilling, blood-pumping experience, and Lin Yang decided to test the theory himself.

He climbed out of the pool, barefoot and silent as a detective, checking that none of the three women were moving. This emboldened him—speed is the key to victory, so the saying goes.

Lin Yang’s dexterity was no boast. In less than half a second, without a sound, he’d stealthily slipped to the changing room door.

Listening once, twice, three times—no movement. The three women’s nervous heartbeats thudded, but he heard them all. Lin Yang was delighted, making excuses to himself: “You chose this, so I won’t hold back—just a peek, just a little.”

The observer is invincible! Only a true scoundrel would understand the depth of this phrase.

His eyes, like surveillance cameras, peered through the crack in the door—closer, closer, almost there! Ah, perfect, he was about to see everything.