The story begins with an eight-foot-tall lady surrounded by ghost story ladies.

14. The most sensitive spot of an 8-foot lady

The night grew deeper.

The lights were off in the office.

It wasn't that Natsume Fanyu didn't want to open it; it was that he couldn't move it.

The eight-foot-tall lady remained in the position of burying her face in the crook of his neck, her arms tightly clenched.

The three-meter-tall body was curled up in a ball, like some huge and soft white creature, encircling him completely.

Natsume Fanyu lowered his head and spoke softly:

"Okusan".

"Um."

You're pressing down on me.

The eight-foot-tall lady did not move.

Instead of moving, she shifted her weight forward even further.

The white mourning clothes clung even more tightly to his chest, as if weighed down by two warm clumps of snow.

"It was intentional," she said.

The voice muffled in the crook of his neck, carrying a hint of willfulness and a touch of smug satisfaction at having achieved his revenge.

Natsume Fanyu sighed.

He gave up the struggle, both literally and metaphorically.

His fingers moved away from the eight-foot lady's waist, followed the indentation of her spine upwards, and finally stopped at the back of her neck.

The eight-foot-tall lady's body trembled slightly.

Because that spot is the most sensitive part of her body.

This was discovered by Natsume Fanyu a long time ago.

One evening, as he was sorting through the old books he had found at a secondhand bookstore, his wife, as usual, emerged from the shadows and sat quietly behind him, watching him turn the pages.

He unconsciously reached behind her and his fingers landed on the back of her neck.

Then he heard a voice he had never heard from Lady Eight Feet before.

At that moment, he almost couldn't resist executing the eight-foot-tall lady on the spot.

From then on, Natsume Fanyu knew where the most sensitive spot on the Eight-Foot Lady's body was.

"You..." Madam Bachi's voice was slightly unsteady at this moment.

"foul."

"You pressed down on me first," Natsume Fanyu said matter-of-factly.

"I didn't press it."

"You have."

"I don't."

"So what are you pressing against my chest right now?"

The eight-foot-tall lady remained silent.

Then, she lifted her head from the crook of his neck, her cool eyes looking down at him from above.

Her face still possessed that ethereal, otherworldly elegance, with a detached yet compassionate air reminiscent of the Guanyin statue in a temple.

But her body is not.

The plump body, wrapped in white mourning clothes, was pressed tightly against a man in a posture that a Guanyin statue would never assume.

Dignity and desire.

Abstinence and indulgence.

These two completely contradictory qualities coexist in the eight-foot-tall lady, and in a way that is chilling.

Natsume Fanyu looked at her face, then at the curve of her against his chest, and suddenly felt that the Creator was probably drunk when creating her.

"What are you looking at?" asked the eight-foot-tall lady.

"Watch my Okusan," said Natsume Fanyu.

"Is it pretty?"

"nice."

The eight-foot-tall lady's lips curved slightly.

Then she lowered her head again and pressed her face against his chest.

This time it wasn't the back of the neck, it was the chest.

I pressed my ear against his left chest, listening to his heartbeat.

The room remained quiet for a long time.

"Fan Yu," she said.

She no longer called him "Dog Xiu Jin Sama" in a cold tone like before.

It is "Fanyu".

This was the first time she had called him that.

Natsume Fanyu's fingers remained on the back of her neck, without moving.

"That woman in the kimono..." Mrs. Hachisak's voice was very soft, so soft that it sounded like she was talking to herself.

"She said she would give you the entire Jinguji family."

"Um."

She also said she wanted to give herself to you.

"Um."

"Her waist is very slim."

Natsume Fanyu remained silent.

His intuition told him that saying anything at this moment would be a mistake.

"When wearing a kimono, the obi (sash) is tightened very much."

The eight-foot-tall lady continued, her voice still very soft.

"But the tighter something is, the harder it is to untie..."

She paused for a moment.

"nice."

Natsume Fanyu's Adam's apple bobbed.

The eight-foot-tall lady had her ear pressed against his chest, and of course she heard the swallowing sound.

The corners of her mouth curved up again, this time more noticeably than before.

"I'm taller than her," she said.

"Um."

"My waist is thinner than hers."

This is a fact.

The eight-foot lady was three meters tall, but her waist was disproportionately slender, forming a teardrop-shaped curve that made one's throat dry, along with her broad shoulders and plump hips.

Jinguji Saya's waist is indeed thin, but it's within the range of a normal human being.

The waist of an eight-foot lady is something that only exists in fantasy, thin enough to drive any woman mad with envy.

"My... here..." She propped herself up slightly, glanced down, and then pressed herself back down.

"He's older than her too."

This is also true.

And it is an overwhelming fact.

Natsume Fanyu suddenly thought the ceiling of the office was very beautiful.

He stared at the crack in the ceiling, trying to distract himself with pure geometry.

The crack extends from left to right, is about forty centimeters long, and at its end forks into three thin branches, shaped like...

"Fanyu".

The eight-foot-tall lady interrupted his geometry practice.

"Will you go to see her?"

Natsume Fanyu withdrew his gaze from the ceiling.

He moved his hand away from the back of her neck and instead cupped her face, making her look up at him.

Under the moonlight, there was no coldness in the eyes of the eight-foot-tall lady.

There was only unease.

He had seen that kind of unease before.

That night in Tokyo Bay, before he and she made their contract...

When she looked at him with those cool eyes and asked, "You won't abandon me, will you?", there was that unease in her eyes.

Three years have passed since then.

Over the course of three years, she helped him tear apart countless evil spirits and protected him through countless nights when he was targeted by them.

She never complained, never made any demands.

The only thing I ever did was secretly wear his shirt after he fell asleep, then fold it up and put it back the next morning, pretending nothing had happened.

Her only fear was being abandoned.

Although Natsume Fanyu had just promised Lady Yachi that he would stay with her forever.

But at this moment, he solemnly made a promise again.

"Okusan..."

"I will keep every promise I made to you."

"I said I would give you a home, and I will."

"I said I wouldn't lose you, and I never will."

"No matter how many women wearing kimonos come."

The eight-foot-tall lady looked at him for a long time.

Then she did something that Natsume Bonyu had never expected.

She lowered her head and bit his collarbone.

It wasn't a gentle bite; it was a bite so hard it left a tooth mark.