Why it never ends

"Insert what?" Hesta asked.

Anna didn't answer, but just threw the wooden ball over, and Hesta caught it with one hand.

The moment the wooden ball hit the palm of her hand, Hesta understood. She looked at the ball in her hand, and then at Anna.

"Oh, you mean..."

"Like spear and shield, key and lock, insertion is not just a biological act, it is part of conquest." Anna shook her glass, "By piercing an imaginary barrier, men complete a ritual. From there From the moment he conquered a woman with his innate weapons and obtained the right to reproduce, this will be the real starting point of his journey in life."

Hesta frowned, "... In my impression, boycotting monks is very opposed to men forming families."

"No contradiction." Anna said softly, "In fact, you only need to grasp one thing. The core of boycotting monks is not to provide protection and support to women, so they don't marry or raise children. This is to avoid entering into a serious relationship-- But sex and conquest have always been a very important part of their internal culture. Before the theory of 'Youth Love' was put forward, there were various means of exploration among the boycott monks..."

"I'm afraid there is no one in the world who is more obsessed with 'insertion' than them." Speaking of this, Anna suddenly laughed, "...so stupid that it is touching."

"Young love," Hesta said again, "what is that?"

"Go back and read the book." Anna took the gin and tonic from Putina, "Let me tell you everything, how can my voice bear it?"

Putina looked at Anna.

Anna's expression was calm, "If you can even read "Jon", then "The Tempest" should be even better."

Putina's eyes followed Hesta's movements—she picked up the tequila not far away, which was used as a base wine, and poured tons and tons into her glass.

Anna didn't answer, she leaned comfortably on the back of the chair, as if she wasn't listening at all.

"Huh?" Anna looked up, "What kind of story?"

"Tell me in advance, I just started reading this book last night," Putinna smiled and clinked glasses with Anna, "I feel that this book also has a bit of that flavor—that is, how should I put it, it uses women's love and flesh The feeling of being a witness of a man's growth?"

Before the words were finished, Hesta suddenly stood up while leaning on the table.

"But after listening to your chat just now, I seem to understand the reason, but I still haven't figured it out," Putinna propped her chin, "If in a male story, a woman who is completely devoted—his mother, wife Or a lover—is the starting point for him to conquer everything, what is the starting point for a woman to conquer everything?"

Putina paused for a moment, "A man who is completely dedicated?"

"Small drinking is just as harmful," Anna said softly. "No matter how much you ingest, as long as you ingest it, you will increase the risk of various cancers and liver damage."

It was one o'clock in the morning, and Putina kept an eye on the time. At one o'clock, she left the bar for a short time, and when she came back, she walked up to Hesta, "If you want to go back to the room before Su Lei and the others, it will be almost a while later." time to go."

Anna laughed, "No, it doesn't do any good to your body, it's not even like tobacco—tobacco can at least temporarily refresh you, and every drop of alcohol will only make you more sluggish while damaging your liver. And, people who drink two glasses of wine a day age their brains a decade earlier than those who don't drink at all—a 50-year-old brain ages at 60, and that's the price of alcohol."

"Okay..." Putina sighed again, "Couldn't it just be because it's delicious—"

"Because it reduces prefrontal lobe control."

"It doesn't make sense," Putina shrugged. "If it's such a bad thing, why are there so many alcoholics in the world who love it?"

Anna laughed again.

"Cheers, Anna."

……

"Uh, you took the wrong glass," Putina looked at Hesta, "Tequila should be used—"

Anna's face was slightly smoky, she put down the cup, half-closed her eyes and smiled, "...you go back and read the book by yourself."

"Alcohol is like a cheating device," Anna shook the little drink left in the glass, "It can help people bypass rational supervision, transcend experience likes and dislikes, and make two strangers who have never met before suddenly have a friendship." Illusion—and all of this is impossible for a waking man."

Hesta drank from his glass.

"Maybe it's parting." She half-raised the glass under the lamp, and the turning glass cast a stream of light and shadow on her face, "continuously... parting."

Standing between the two, Putina began to mix drinks for herself, "Have you read "The Mountains Under the Storm"?"

Hesta raised his eyes slightly, "...read a bit."

Anna thought for a while, "The genre you're talking about should be "Jon Cleveland."

"...Oh, that's right, "Jon" is more appropriate," Putina nodded in agreement, "Even if everything is lost, a woman's admiration can still make a man believe in his own strength-because her existence itself is A proof."

"...There must be some benefits to the body," Putinna said in a somewhat uncertain tone, "softens the blood vessels?"

"At least the story of "Jon" can make me feel that it is written by a man, and some stories can only make me feel that it is written by a man." Putina looked at the foam that was disappearing in the wine glass, "I Have you ever told me that I've been trying to write some stories lately?"

Putina turned to Hestad. "What do you think, Ms. Hestad?"

Putina frowned slightly, "What?"

Anna happily raised her hand, and the two wine glasses touched each other. Hesta closed her eyes, frowned, and drank down the entire glass of spirits in a few gulps.

"It's a story like "Jon", but I changed the protagonist to a woman," Putina sighed, "every time I finished writing the beginning, I got stuck."

"Is it worth reading? What's the ending like?"

"Read it." Anna replied.

Just as Hesta was about to answer, Anna smiled and said, "Alcohol is indeed a type of carcinogen, did you know?"

Hesta thought about it.

"I haven't finished it," replied Hesta.

Anna looked over.

"Do you really not drink a glass of wine?"

Hesta had already picked up a full glass of wine, and walked slowly in front of Anna.

"Oh, that's alcoholism," Putinna retracted her chin, "if it's just a drink—"

"Okay." Hesta pushed the glass to the inside of the bar, "Thank you for the hospitality."

Putina looked at this scene dumbfounded, "You...you don't know how to drink, you know how much this wine is—"

Hesta ignored Putina who was on the side. She put the wine glass back on the bar, but the force was not well controlled, and the sound of smashing was louder.

"I have a question for you," Hesta bent down, "Can you answer me truthfully?"

"You said."

"How old are you," Hesta asked in a voice only Anna could hear, "and when were you born, Ana?"