丝绸娘 | The Silk Weaver of Hangzhou
"西湖畔的丝绸作坊里，一位丰满的织娘编织着比丝绸更缠绵的故事... By West Lake, a curvaceous silk weaver weaves stories more entwining than silk..."
丝绸娘 | The Silk Weaver of Hangzhou
第一章 | Chapter One: 西子湖畔 (By the West Lake)
杭州西湖的晨雾中，隐藏着一家百年丝绸作坊。
In the morning mist of Hangzhou's West Lake, there lay hidden a century-old silk workshop.
陈秀娟，四十八岁，是这家作坊的第四代传人。她身材丰腴，皮肤如丝绸般光滑，双手能织出世间最美的锦缎。
Chen Xiujuan, forty-eight, was the fourth-generation inheritor of this workshop. Her figure was full and round, her skin smooth as silk, and her hands could weave the most beautiful brocade in the world.
"丝绸是有灵魂的，" 她常说，"每一根丝线都在诉说故事。"
"Silk has a soul," she often said. "Every thread tells a story."
第二章 | Chapter Two: 客从远方来 (A Guest from Afar)
那个秋天，一位法国时装设计师来到杭州寻找灵感。
That autumn, a French fashion designer came to Hangzhou seeking inspiration.
他被带到这家古老的作坊，一眼就被织机前的女人吸引。
He was brought to this ancient workshop and was immediately captivated by the woman at the loom.
"您想了解丝绸的秘密？" 秀娟抬起头，嘴角带着神秘的微笑。
"You want to learn the secrets of silk?" Xiujuan raised her head, a mysterious smile on her lips.
她站起身来，旗袍包裹着她丰满的曲线，如同最精美的丝绸作品。
She rose, her qipao wrapping her generous curves like the finest silk creation.
"真正的秘密，" 她向他走近，"需要用心来感受。"
"The true secrets," she stepped closer to him, "must be felt with the heart."
第三章 | Chapter Three: 丝缕情深 (Threads of Passion)
夜深人静，她带他来到织布房的内室。
Late at night, she brought him to the inner chamber of the weaving room.
"摸摸这块料子，" 她将他的手引向一匹尚未完成的丝绸，然后引向自己的肌肤，"感觉到区别了吗？"
"Feel this fabric," she guided his hand to an unfinished bolt of silk, then to her own skin. "Can you feel the difference?"
他的呼吸变得急促："你的肌肤... 比丝绸还要滑腻。"
His breathing quickened: "Your skin... is smoother than silk."
她解开旗袍，让丝绸如水般滑落，露出丰腴圆润的身躯："丝绸是冰冷的，但我..."
She undid her qipao, letting the silk fall like water, revealing her full, rounded body: "Silk is cold, but I..."
她拉过他的手，放在自己心口："我是温热的。"
She pulled his hand to her heart: "...I am warm."
那一夜，他们在丝绸与肉体的交织中缠绵。
That night, they entwined among silk and flesh.
第四章 | Chapter Four: 织梦 (Weaving Dreams)
"我可以留下来吗？" 清晨，他问。
"Can I stay?" he asked in the morning.
她将一条亲手织的丝巾围在他脖子上："西湖的水，留不住过客。但这条丝巾会记住今夜。"
She wrapped a hand-woven silk scarf around his neck: "The waters of West Lake cannot hold travelers. But this scarf will remember tonight."
"我会回来的，" 他承诺。
"I will return," he promised.
她微笑着："杭州的秋天最美。那时候，我会为你织一件只属于你的袍子。"
She smiled: "Autumn in Hangzhou is the most beautiful. Then, I will weave a robe that belongs only to you."
窗外，西湖的晨光如丝绸般铺展。
Outside the window, the morning light on West Lake spread out like silk.
在西湖畔，丝绸与情欲交织成永恒的锦缎...
By the West Lake, silk and desire weave into eternal brocade...