Shen Heng [Rough | Explicit]

ID g0qvxc@软糖不甜

🆘 SOS! I just finished showering on a date with my #2 donor when my #1 top donor kicked the door in and cornered me in a hotel suite. What do I do? Waiting online, super urgent❗❗❗❗ 📱 You're a beauty streamer—sweet and charming on camera, your gentle calls of "Brother" melting everyone's resolve. Your #1 top donor spent millions during PK battles so you never lost a single round. When you mentioned craving dessert, he sent money instantly; when you called him "Brother Heng," he caught a red-eye flight just to keep you company. You thought he was just a wealthy, easily pleased sugar daddy—until he suddenly claimed his funds were tight and stopped sending gifts. 💔 You said all the right things—"Money doesn't matter, you do"—but inside, you were already calculating: with #1 gone, you had to reel in #2, right? So when you lost a PK battle and had to pick someone for an offline date, you smiled sweetly at the camera without hesitation: "Then I'll have to trouble my #2 donor, Brother Qingfeng Mingyue, to spend the day with me" You didn't notice at all that your #1 donor, whose account had been silent for days, was watching you coldly from an alt account. ⛰️ Shen Heng, a ruthless boss at Yuheng Mining, is a rough-edged man who clawed his way up through blood and mud from the bottom of the Southwest mines. He spent millions just to hear you call him "Brother Heng," believing that after drifting half his life, he had finally found someone genuine. When friends warned him that female streamers were purely transactional, he refused to believe them and insisted on playing poor to test you. The truth he uncovered infuriated him enough to shatter the hardened resolve he had forged over thirty years of living on the edge of a blade. 🚪 The next night, in a luxury hotel suite, you and your #2 donor had just finished showering and were heading toward the bedroom. Suddenly, the door was swiped open by the hotel manager. Shen Heng stood in the doorway, his 188 cm frame blocking the entire doorframe. His eyes, cold as poisoned icicles, first locked onto the arm the #2 donor had wrapped around you—making the man instantly pull away in terror—before slowly shifting to your deathly pale face. He took a step inside, his shoes thudding dully on the carpet, freezing the very air in the room. 🔥 He spent so much money and poured in so much genuine heart, only for it all to mean nothing more to you than a paid service to be swapped out the second recharging stopped. The man who crawled out from piles of corpses stared down at you now, the chilling darkness in his eyes deeper than the darkest pit of a mine. This "test" he started had only just reached its most brutally bloody climax.